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#eir gets an ask
mimssides · 1 year
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For the ship ask game!
Logince and/or Intrulogical? 💙
I get to participate too! Finally!
Logince:
Ship It
What made you ship it? So Roman and Logan are basically my favourites by now and seeing them together makes me turn mad. I love them so much. I look at them and see energy bouncing between them, they make each other go so fast, so quick. They challenge each other to grow and get better in ways they usually wouldn't and I. adore. it.
What are your favorite things about the ship? I love when they are written in a way that they draw a lot of parallels between each other. Like, when their stubbornness or their drive gets compared to each other. Their motivations or methods might differ but some things are the same and that's what makes them stronger. Especially in canon verses where they suddenly band together to get Thomas' shit together or stand up for each other, because they both feel the pressure of being in charge but never being allowed to do things their way because it's not good enough for everybody else.
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I don't think so? Mostly it's all the preferences I have that for all my ships, which might be unpopular; so like I don't appreciate it when one of the partners is a complete wet blanket and has to be saved by the other? Just, let them be equals. Let Roman and Logan fight casually. Heck even in a platonic setting I feel like that is actually a very important part for them to communicate. They both have an ego problem and getting called out on it by somebody who they respect and want to impress might do more good than them never addressing their conflicts at all.
Intrulogical:
Ship It
What made you ship it? Its the first ship in this fandom that I read stories for so it's special to me. I think sammy-is-obsessed Intrulogical stuff made me love it so much. Also @edupunkn00b. All of edus intrulogical stuff makes me go brrrrrrrrrrrr
What are your favorite things about the ship? I think I just love the idea of Logan getting to be unhinged because Remus just opens that section in his brain. He just gets to be the gremlin mad scientist he's meant to be. And Remus can get his energy out and has somebody to trust in and be happy with. It's just neat.
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Let Remus have the braincell. Make him just as smart if not even smarter than Logan. Or let Logan be the first to realize his feelings and make him do the "logical approach" where he just straight up goes to Remus after his epiphany, tells him that he has realized that he loves him, and then asks him out for a date. In front over everybody. Please. The potential of this dynamic is just soo good!
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nadiestar · 1 year
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Hey Eir! Just leaving a little message to thank you for making my year a little better. Man am I happy to have found a friend in you. You've really made my day whenever we chat, you're such a joy to brainstorm with, and I'm hoping we'll still get to be friends for many years to come. Wishing you strength, good vibes, and happiness for 2023. Thank you for being awesome this year 💙
🥺🥺🥺
Oh, Lost thank you so much! I've already told you that I got the ask, but I just wanted to keep it a little longer in my inbox and make me all happy.
I'm really happy that you've become my friend too and I do hope that we will manage to stay in contact as friends for a long time❤
I wish you the best of luck, much success, and much joy for the future and am looking forward to fight another year with you by my side💗
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Hpd culture is wanting every bit of attention from your s/o but knowing if you ask it from your partner you'd be too demanding and overwhelming
.
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worstloki · 2 years
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No really, thor aging five hundred years in a couple earth days sounds like a good fic idea
Loki’s going to make fun of him so much for it
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rebellum · 2 years
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....
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honestsycrets · 9 months
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Neglection [Ivar x Healer!Reader, Past!Hvitserk x Reader]
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❛ pairing | ivar x reader, past!hvitserk x reader
❛ type | oneshot
❛ summary | touched with eir's healing powers, it's your custom to care for the great heathen army. ivar doesn't appreciate the order you care for others in.
❛ tags | NSFW, non-graphic mention of ivar's wound, healer!reader, blind!reader, religious references, past!hvitserk x reader, heavily jealous!ivar, jealousy.
❛ sy’s notes | forgive the looseness of this piece, i'm attempting to complete random freewrites to get into producing more works.
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Stubborn, that was how you would define Ivar. Even if he was one of the commanders of the Great Heathen Army, he was also as stubborn as a mule. Pain, he claimed, was one of his deepest allies. He was surrounded by it from birth. 
“Ivar,” you trilled, coming into the great church where Ivar set up his base. “Ivar-- are you here?” 
You tiptoed past sleeping comrades holding the bottom of your skirts, prancing over a viking’s sleeping body, egged on by the nagging urge to chase your injured commander. His rich scent filled your nostrils: blood and breaks, smoke and honey. His slight huffs of pain, slight as they were, led you to this room.
“Commander?” 
“Hush,” came the snapping reply. “My brothers are sleeping.” 
Your foot bumped against cold stone steps. “Where are you?” 
“You’re close.” 
The night was always a trying time for finding the right man. Ivar’s thick candle, flickering in the moonlight, casted little light by which you could guide yourself through the large room. You climbed over the heavy steps by sliding your feet slowly over the stone floor. Then, bumped into another body. 
“Ivar?” 
There was no answer. You bend at the knees and casted your fingers over the crumpled body on the floor. It wasn’t right-- no, his sides were too narrow. His hair in long braids. And when he moaned, your ears were full with a gruff but inviting voice. “Prince Hvitserk,” you mumbled.
“Yes, Prince Hvitserk,” Ivar chided. “You always loved Hvitserk.” 
You left his side with the assumption that Ubbe would be sleeping close by. Wherever Hvitserk was, Ubbe was. You knew that. Bjorn wouldn’t be in this room-- he was keeping watch tonight. “I don’t choose who to heal first, Ivar. The goddesses do.” 
“You can lie better than that.” 
“Please don’t mock me, Ivar. I just want you to be safe--” 
“Safe?” He hummed. “I’m not interested in being ‘safe’, my sweet.” 
Sweet, you flushed. You hoped that the bright light wouldn’t illuminate your cheeks, flush with embarrassment. Then again, you would never know. “You’re blushing, hm, do you like that?” 
“That’s enough. Just come to me.” 
“Why should I? If memory is escaping you,” he bit out. His voice clear, filling your ears with dizzying certainty. He really was close. “I was shot in the thigh. Find me yourself.”
Seconds later, your knees collided with a great wooden chair. Then betrayed you. You fell forward and caught yourself by slamming your hand down on a firm, but fleshy surface “Gods!” he shouted. 
“By Eir!” you snapped back, hands flailing to find the proper wooden surface. “My Ivar, I’m--” 
“Sorry, yes, I know. Congratulations, you’ve found me. Now get on with it.” 
“On-- on with it?”
“Did you not come here to heal it?” he asked. In the hazy field of your vision, you knew he was scrutinizing you. You ran your hand over your long skirt, smoothing it down. Whatever he was staring at, be it your thick braid over your shoulder or the dry blood caked over your hands from a long day of work, you weren’t sure. “Or are those magical hands only for Hvitserk?” 
“Why do you insist on Hvitserk?” 
His head, angled toward his brother, snapped to you. “Given how much time you spend with him--” 
His body tensed. Your fingers ghosted the scratchy fabric of his pants, still splattered with blood, and you realized he too hadn’t washed down. You hovered over the wound, the place where his scent originated from. 
“I do not.” 
“You only serve him breakfast and dinner,” he spat to the side again, stiffening as you moved up to loosen his belt. His hand snapped to your wrist, grip crushing the bone. You lifted your head to him, coming close enough that you could make something out of the face you once knew.
“Don’t do that.” 
“I need a clear working area. It isn’t as if I can see your…” you snaked your hand away from his grip to try and loosen his pants again. He snapped his head one way, then another, watching as you kneeled between his legs. He remained silent as you slid his pants down his thin legs to his ankles. 
 “You’ve seen Hvitserk’s,” he huffed under his breath. 
“How many times do I need to tell you? I’ve not been with him. For years,” you searched through your bag for the right essentials. Yes, another healer had cleaned the area on your request-- but it wasn’t done to your liking. The cloth was loose, the area unpurified. “I don’t even remember what he felt like.” You mumbled.
Ivar’s lips parted with a slight smack. He was wordless for an instant, his head shifting to face his brother. “He was that… immemorable?” 
The air was thick. He, curious. You, exhausted. Ivar’s large arms turned one over another. He twitched his thick muscular thighs as if to urge a response from you. Your hand came over his firm muscles to keep him in place. 
“We were so young. Ubbe was training him,” you said, cleaning the area with a soaked cloth. When you bumped into him, the wound oozed. Your lips pursed and you would blow soft air over his thigh which caused his muscles to tighten. “Besides, I don’t remember much from before Eir took my sight, Ivar. Only the small memories we shared.” 
“But not the dick,” he laughed. Your fingertips swatted the side of his thigh. 
In your mortar, you mixed a mixture of herbs that he only recognized from his mother’s witchery cabinet to soothe his aches. Your lips moved in the strangest of prayers, sanctifying the blend to aid in his healing and pain. Then you slathered it on his thigh, tingles ripping through his thigh to his spine. He wasn’t sure if the mixture or your lips healed the soreness, sweeping over his thigh with a soft kiss. He trembled. 
“You have nothing to be anxious about.” 
“Hm?” 
You lifted his thigh, drawing the bandage in sturdy loops around his thigh. Then, securing it in place, removed his musty pants and boots. It took a moment to locate his other pants. Ivar took them and drew them on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his tongue to urge you on. “I don’t want to be his.”
“Then whose?” 
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you were aware of what he was about to say. Though you couldn’t see, you could feel. Feel the intensity of Ivar’s presence, his eyes following you around camp, his endless neediness. His hand shot out and snatched the cords of your dress. You knew you shouldn’t have worn his dress to deal with Ivar. There was no way to unpeel his strong grip from your cords by will alone. 
“Be mine.” 
There were certain things that you knew the gods wanted. Healing of their finest warriors, the mitigation of pain, and hard workers. Your eyes, glazed as they were, served only to be a liability. To a man like Ivar-- your hands connected with his naked shoulders. His muscles enticed you-- far-- far too well. It had been years since you last had a man. Perhaps, in part, due to Ivar’s consistent scowls and glares.
“I can’t, I-- I swore to Eir,” you murmured. Though the words came of your lips, they did not convince you. You traveled his sturdy shoulders to his neck, then his jaw-- peppered with stubble. God, he knew what the sensation did to you with waves of excitement dancing over your skin. You weren’t convincing anyone.
“What does she care? Does she demand some silly Christian oath?” 
“No, but I--” He grasped your backside, pulling up the skirts over your knees. Then, jerked you onto the throne with legs on either side of his own. His voice softened into a soft honey-like hum, rivaling the soft slick that gathered between your legs. “Let me convince you otherwise, hm?” 
“Hvitserk is here.”  
“Forget him.” Ivar coursed his hand underneath your skirts. It was frustrating how often he could not listen. You could tell Ivar that the sky was blue and he’d debate you! With his calloused fingers guiding there way to the junction of your legs and pelvis, you knew there was nothing that you could tell him. No, nothing that you wanted to tell him, that would change this. Even with your complaining, you longed for the attention. It had been years.
Ivar inhaled air as he brushed your vulva, dancing his thumb across your neglected lips. He slid between the slit, parting your lips with ginger care. It was nearly embarrassing how easy it was for Ivar, running the pad of his thumb up and down. “See? You want me.” 
You wracked your mind for the last time this had happened. The last time a man had his eye on you-- oh, but you remembered, the night you lost your vision. Hvitserk-- whose kind heart soothed your grief-- warmed your body to comfort you. As you traced the memory, the ache of his absence panged strangely in your heart. Oh, how easy a man’s heart was to sway.
“Focus on me,” Ivar sank his fingers into your warm cunt. Your hips shifted in response, flush against his chest, breasts in his face. Your body tensed around his fingers to keep him in place. Ivar wasn’t the sort of man to be held back. Not by a pathetic cry, no. He was guided by the things he was passionate about. “Good--” 
“Please, Ivar, I’ve not--” he curled his fingers, massaging your walls as you hadn’t in years. It was warm, wonderful. His other hand came to your front, massaging a soft spot that only one other had. He rolled in the softest of rhythms, circling purposefully slow. Then quick. The pleasure bloomed-- the ugliest of flowers that you told yourself you wouldn’t have again. That you would devote yourself to Eir, swear off all thoughts of lust and love. All at once, Ivar stopped. He drew his fingers back from massaging your soaked walls and flicked your clit with a soft laugh. 
“So?” 
“No,” you lowered your hips, yipping as you settled against the bulge between Ivar’s legs. “I should-- I should go.” 
“Then go.” 
You didn’t move. No, your hands were knit to Ivar’s shoulders like thread and cloth.
"That is what I thought." You felt frozen in place even as he pulled himself free of his pants and fondled his shaft. The tip of his cock eased along your lips: forward, backward, and forward again. 
“If you stay,” Ivar breathed, slapping his cock against your mound. His breath was warm against your chest, urging you to slide your chest against his. Oh, you knew you were doomed. The memory of sex was all too enticing. Your body clenched, aching at the memory of how it felt. “I won’t let you go.” 
And though he said that, you reached between your legs and lined the warm head of his cock with your aching hole. He snapped your hips down an instant later, his wide grin widening with every bit of his cock that filled your core. Your fingers cringed on his shoulders as he seated himself comfortably in your cunt. Your lips parted, shaking loose noises that you knew would wake up his brothers. 
“Hush,” he leaned in, rocking his hips despite the pain wracking up his thigh. Your hips shifted, rolling down along his cock alone. He didn’t even have to move, no, you were too happy to do this on your own. His thumb found your nub again, spazzing along the little button as you rode him. You missed how it felt: how his warm words filled your soul with bliss, and his dick filled the places you didn’t know needed to be filled. It was what Ivar did-- with his voice, as desirable and silky as honey. 
It ruptured a hole straight through you. Blossoming low in your belly, the pleasure ripped through your cunt. Your body clamped on his, working his orgasm free. He seized your chin, aiming it toward him. And though your unseeing eyes could only see the shadows of his face, your mind was scarred by the memory of his haughty eyes and the bob and weave of his head. You didn't need to see to know what he was about to say next. “You’re mine.” 
You were wrong for this. But it was too late to take it back.
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sun-marie · 5 days
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Eamoc Part 2, Electric Boogaloo ✨
At first, Eamoc didn't feel anything particularly strong towards Xoti one way or the other. However, once Xoti began feeding him his favorite snack, Palohe Nuts, they became fast friends and he was often seen at her side (when he wasn't at Sabina's). How Xoti knew Eamoc's favorite snack may or may not have something to do with Maia asking Sabina what it was as a "personal favor" ;)
Given how different Aloth and Iselmyr are and Eamoc's distaste for the former, you'd be forgiven for thinking Eamoc might get along better with the latter. You would be mistaken. While usually Eamoc is content to simply huff and side-eye Aloth, Iselmyr's more... confrontational nature has come very close to an all out brawl between the two, much to Aloth's terror.
Being from Eir Glanfath, Eamoc felt especially comfortable around Serafen, whose presence reminded him of home. For Serafen's part, he figured he could do worse than have a great horned beast as a friend, especially when that beast was willing to help him reach new heights, as it were.
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lunarubra · 27 days
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Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.
Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)
Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.
Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies
Words: 2700
Next | Masterlist
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Part 1: Eire's Depths
Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.
The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.
Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.
14h11: Ready for a call later?
16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.
18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.
Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.
19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.
19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.
Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.
Outside, it was raining. Again. 
And it was dark. Already.
Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.
The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little. 
Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.
After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio. 
When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.
After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.
It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.
"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"
"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."
"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."
"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."
"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"
"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."
"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.
"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.
"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."
"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."
Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.
"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.
"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.
Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.
"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.
She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."
"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."
"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."
Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."
"Every battle has its losses."
Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."
"Love you too, little star."
Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today. 
She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain. 
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Again.
Snap.
5 points.
Snap.
5 points.
Snap.
15 points.
Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.
She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play. 
On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.
Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.
"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"
Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.
"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.
"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."
"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.
"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."
Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."
"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.
Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.
She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.
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Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.
She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.
Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.
Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."
Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"
Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."
Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."
"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."
Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."
Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."
Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.
He was just tired.
At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.
Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.
Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."
Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."
"Best not risk it, then."
They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.
Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.
Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.
While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.
Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."
Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."
"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."
While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.
"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.
"What?" he asked Cillian.
Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."
"Goodnight, lads."
Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.
"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.
The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.
"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."
Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"
The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.
Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.
"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.
"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."
He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.
"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."
She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.
"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."
And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)
amazing dividers from cafekitsune
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obsessedelusional · 1 year
Text
Oblivious
paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader
summary ✦ Bella and you have been friends for a few years now. Didn’t take long for them to a form a crush on you. While visiting after not seeing you for a while, they decide it’s time to come clean about their feeling. Too afraid, they keep dropping hints. What happens when Bella finally finds the courage to tell you?
word count ✦ 2,000ish
authors note ✦ THANKS for all the love <33
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FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!
⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
“So who’s your celebrity crush then?” Bella asks her best friend of years, intentionally after talking openly about their celebrity crush. You share a striking resemblance too, hoping maybe this information would spark something in you. Your too oblivious to connect the dots.
“Hmm…. Right now?” You pause in a attempt to shuffle through all the random celebrities you’ve found attractive.
“Probably Kristen Stewart.” Bella is surprised by you answer.
“Kristen Stewart?” They ask, slack jawed.
“Yeah I rewatched all the twilight movies last week. I used to be team Edward but now I think I’m team Bella. It’s actually absurd that we let those men get away with everything they did.” You explain, going off on a tangent about Twilight. Bella half listens, trying to understand if you said Kristen because you might be gay or because you liked twilight.
“She has a whole ass fiancé, I’m shit out of luck.” You sigh dramatically before going back to your phone. Bella forces a laugh, more confused than when they started this conversation.
“But doesn’t matter, I got my own Bella.” You tease with a wink unknowingly adding to Bella’s distress.
“Edward was a creep, a whole ass stalker. Imagine if she woke up when Edward broke in to bedroom to watch her sleep. If my boyfriend did that shit, he’d get kicked to the curb so quick.” Bella groans out loud on accident causing you to look up from your phone.
“Okay I know you don’t like him but-“ You speak quickly interrupted.
“Yeah cause he’s a dick. Way worse than Edward Cullen ever was.”
“First of all, you’ve never seen twilight. Second of all, I don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone I’ve ever dated.” You respond, your tone sassy. Bella doesn’t respond only because she cannot pretend why she’s never liked your new boyfriends. Your “love” for them never lasted long, moving onto the next one with ease. They wished desperately you’d forget about the male population as a whole.
“It’s because I like you.” Bella says, not entirely registering the words as they come out.
“I like care about you, you deserve someone better.” Nice save, Bella thinks. Internally screaming to themself you deserve them.
“Aww I like care about you,” you respond sarcasm heavy on your voice, eyes on your phone. Bella rolls her eyes in response. That’s one thing Bella loved so badly about you, you were just as sarcastic and could always banter with you. More often than not they couldn’t keep up with your attitude.
Bella was in town for a few weeks, break between their filming. She had missed you so much the l last few months, promising her self she was gonna do something about it this time. When it’s time for the two of you to part, Bella steals on you hoodies.
“Where the fuck are you going with that?” You ask mostly joking, when you notice.
“I want it,” Bella argues. Not wanting to admit that she’s been stealing from you on the low. Just taking little things, now and then. Nothing you’d ever miss but it means everything to Bella. To have a piece of you while she’s off on her job related adventures. Sometimes even using your shirt as a pillow case when they really miss you.
Bella had a plan to tell you how they felt the next day. Before you spring going to a party’s with you. Bella was older than you, you just graduated high school. Still caught up in the high school bullshit. Thankfully they were visiting during your summer vacation before you headed off to university.
“These are for you.” Bella barley whispers, handing you the bouquet of flowers. Your favorite ones. After you sprung the party on them, they decided they’d just do it before. Maybe it would be enough to convince you to stay in with them instead.
“Thanks bestie,” you respond. Bestie? Bella groans internally, discouraged by your friendly pet name. Chickening out on their original plans, mentally throwing out the monologue they had planned for you.
“I saw them and thought of you.” Bella admits.
Once in Bella’s car, they purposefully play Jenny by Studio Killers. Signing along passionately, hoping maybe you’d hear the lyrics and they’d resonate with you. The songs about a girl having a crush on her best friend. You just nod along, never commenting on the subject of it. Bella doesn’t show it but they irritation is growing. Wanting nothing more than to spill their feelings for you, always coming up short when it’s time to do so.
“Do we really have to go?” Bella whines only to stop when you grab their hand and pull them closer to the door. Once at the door, you face Bella your back to the door.
“It’s just a little kickback, maybe 20 people tops. You’ll be okay! I’ll be by your side the whole time. I promise.” You reassure Bella and they let out a defeated sigh. A small laugh leaves your mouth bringing a smile to Bellas. The door swings open, some dude from your school attempting to leave. He pushes past the two of you, not saying a single word.
“Rude.” You mutter under you breath, leading Bella inside. Finding some of your friends, introducing them to Bella. Bella’s wondering what the fuck she’s doing here? Oh yeah because you asked and that’s all it took. They couldn’t say no especially when you start pouting, eyes staring directly into Bella’s.
“Sorry I really thought it’d be smaller.” You apologize to Bella some time later, the two of you sat in a group of friends and strangers. Bella doesn’t drink so you don’t either, watching everyone get drunk without the two of you.
“We should do something. Play a game.” Someone suggests, everyone agrees.
“We should play spin the bottle.” Some suggests, most people agree. You look over to Bella who’s shaking their head no.
“I think I’ll sit this one out.” Bella says, standing up going to sit out of the group. Still close enough to be part of the conversation but not in the immediate circle.
“You playing?” Some drunk dude asks you. You look over to Bella who just gives you a smile.
“I guess so.” You say, thinking it’ll be a funny story to tell someday.
“Fuck yeah,” he responds. You sit and wait as one of your friends finds a bottle lays in the center of the group all while explains the rules. A player spins the bottle, and must kiss the person to whom the bottle points when it stops spinning. You watch as people take turns, watching as people kiss. Most kisses only last a few seconds. It’s almost your turn, the girl before you spins the bottle. Landing on the boy next to you, she giggles before reaching over you to kiss him. Their kiss is more aggressive than the others, lasting much longer. People cheering them on as they continue.
“I don’t think I’m gonna live up to that performance.” You joke, as they pull away from each other. Nervously you spin the bottle, following it with your eyes as it spins in a circle. It lands on a girl, you barley know. Before you can say anything people are chanting for y’all to just do it.
“I mean if she’s down I’m down.” The girl shrugs her shoulders, looking at you for a response.
“Sure?” you say and for whatever reason it comes out as a question. She starts crawling towards you, when she’s only a few inches away from your face a voice interrupts the moment.
“What about your boyfriend?” It’s Bella speaking. She didn’t care about your boyfriend, using that as an excuse to make you not want to participate in this game anymore.
“What about him? Like you said he’s a dick.” You respond, looking back at the girl sat in front of you waiting for a kiss. Cheering resumes as you two get closer.
“Absolutely not.” Bella speaks over the loud noises, pulling you from the floor with a strength you didn’t know existed. Dragging you through the crowd, straight out the front door. Sounds of booing is all you can hear as you leave.
“What the fuck was that?” You ask, once Bella lets go of you hand. Bella paces back and forth, it’s obvious they want to say something but can’t get it out.
“You’re my best friend. I couldn’t let you do that.” Bella speaks, pacing coming to a stop to face you.
“Actually I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Bella says, breaking your heart.
“All because I was going to kiss that girl?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.
“Oh my fucking god. Do you listen like ever? How much more obvious do I have to be?” They ask, louder than before.
“What-“ Your cut off by Bella’s hands cupping your face in swift motion affectionately placing their lips on yours, you move your lips with theirs. Letting your arms fall to your sides. You’re the one to pull away, overwhelmed by all the feelings that came out in that moment.
“I understand if you’re mad at me. But I would of rather died than watch you have your first kiss with a woman not be me.” Bella says before you can fully process what just happened.
“I ruined our friendship.” They say, attempting to read your reaction but your speechless unable to comprehend.
“No you didn’t,” you respond.
“I want to ruin our friendship. I like you.” Bella speaks.
“I like you too.”
“No I like like like you.” Bella says, emphasizing on the last two likes.
“Do you listen like ever?” You ask, mocking their tone when they said that you moments ago.
“I like you.” You say again, emphasis on like. Bella’s eyes narrow on you, looking you in your eyes.
“So if I kissed you again? You wouldn’t stop?” They smirk.
“I don’t know, try me.” You tease, chewing on your lip. They do exactly that, pulling you into their embrace before kissing you for the second time.
After a heavy make out session, in the front lawn of that party you guys head back to Bella’s car. This time they open your door, something Bella has never done before. Stealing a kiss in the process then making their way to the drivers side. Once in there’s a silence between you two, sinking in what just happened. They make the drive home, no words are exchanged. Half way there, their hand rests on your thigh giving it a squeeze before going back to driving. You don’t even realize until it’s too late to turn back but Bella’s pulling into their apartment. This was not the original plan but plans change. Parking in their normal parking space.
“How long have you had feelings?” You ask as soon as the car shuts off.
“Oof,” they think out loud.
“Since forever basically.” They admit.
“Same.” You admit causing Bella’s jaw to drop.
“There’s absolutely no way that is possible.” Bella says, not believing you in the slightest.
“We met right before your career really started to take off. I didn’t think it was right to throw that on you while you were out there living your best life.” You explain.
“My best life would of been you by my side, I can’t believe we wasted so many years.” Bella sighs, frustrated.
“We’ll I guess we’re just gonna have to make up for lost time,” You smile, intertwining your fingers with theirs. Playing with the rings they always wore, something you loved about them.
“We better get started, only have two weeks and six days to make up for three years.” Bella grins before instructing you to get out of the car. You do so and Bella meets you outside of the passenger door. Pushing you softly into the side of the car, kissing you in the process. Hands waisting no time explore your body, taking you by surprise. You had never imagined Bella being so forward.
“Where’s this boldness coming from?” You ask when you pull away to breath.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said, we need to make up for all those lost years.” They grin, leading you towards their front door. Your excitement grows as they lead you toward their bedroom, ready to let Bella do whatever they want.
383 notes · View notes
satuguro · 1 year
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✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH
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[ ACT V: AN ANGEL'S FRAGILITY ]
xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader
#SYNOPSIS— you and xavier go for a walk, you and enid think that tyler's an uber driver, and xavier needs to figure out his feelings.
#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb to lovers, slowburn, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, familial issues (will be mentioned in this part), gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual content (in this part & some other parts)
#AUTHORSNOTE— this took me longer to write for some reason but it's okay. thank you for all the support lately ily all xx
ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI
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xavier didn’t like hospitals.
he didn't particularly spend a lot of his time in them, but when he did, he always hated it. the florescent lights, the strong smell of sickness and cleaner intermingled in the air, and the patients he passed by on the way to your room. all of them, either awake or asleep, had someone in the room with them; holding their hand, praying, talking with them. helping them.
he had to admit, it was awkward coming to visit you with weems. but weems offered to drive him so long as he kept a low profile about your condition, so he agreed to tag along. you were finally announced as stable after five days in the hospital; he guessed that having godly blood helped.
but while everyone had people in their rooms, all of them caring for their loved one so deeply, so tenderly, your room had only a black dahlia, a bouquet of baby's breath and lavender, and one of your mugs on a table.
the dahlia was from wednesday. the bouquet was from enid. xavier had brought you one of your own mugs the day prior.
but as he and weems entered the room, there was a woman standing at your right side. her hair was long and blonde, tied into a long dutch braid that reached all the way down to her hips. she wore a white turtleneck under a black trenchcoat and was the same height as weems. in her hands was your leather jacket from the night of your attack, now neatly sewn as though it hadn't been ripped to shreds.
none of your siblings looked like each other. you all had different mothers, but you all had odin's blood.
xavier placed his own gift next to their's; a random collection of your mugs from art class, and a pot you had made in pottery with a single white orchid in it. weems placed an envelope and a 'get well soon' balloon in the corner that xavier knew you'd poke fun at.
"you're one of y/n's sisters— eir, was it?" weems asked, approaching the valkyrie.
"yes. we met on y/n's first day." eir glanced at xavier, who only stood far behind weems. he looked perturbed, his jaw clenched as he sent daggers towards eir, but eir only sent him a kind smile before focusing on you again.
"i'm truly sorry for what has happened to your sister," weems continued, clasping her hands in front of her as she observed your sleeping face. "i'm sure that y/n has told you about her adventures—"
"it's all she ever truly talks about," eir laughed softly to herself, "she has always been drawn to trouble. even as a child— i'm sure you've seen it in her old forms."
"i have." an uncomfortable silence hovered in the air. the only thing that filled the quiet was the beeping of your monitor.
usually, when xavier came to visit you, he went alone or with enid. wednesday hadn't spoken a word to him since the attack.
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xavier held you for what felt like hours. he rocked you back and forth as your sobs died down into sniffles. he pressed a quivering kiss to the top of your head as he breathed heavily in the cold. your hands were still wrapped around him, gripping his shirt.
until they fell at his sides, limp and lifeless.
"y/n? fuck, y/n?" xavier pulled you away from his chest to look at you. he desperately moved your hair from your face, his hands shaking violently as he held you in his arms. your eyes were shut, your face peaceful but lacking any sign of life. panic settled into his body as he shook you gently, careful not to move your wings. "y/n, answer me, c'mon," he pleaded, feeling the burn of tears behind his eyes.
your blood was everywhere; all over his hands, all over his pants and on his shirt. but the worst thing about feeling your blood wasn't that it was warm; it was that it was turning cold.
the sound of running footsteps on fallen leaves made him look up, a small sense of relief overcoming him when he saw wednesday with thornhill close in tow.
"get away from her," wednesday seethed, and with that, every ounce of relief disappeared from his body. she ran up to the other side of your body, her eyes widening at the sight of your snapped wings. "what did you do?!"
"you can't be serious, wednesday, she's dying!" xavier yelled, his eyes pleading for help as he fixed you in his arms. "we," he sniffed harshly, "we have to get her and eugene out of here. now."
"her wings will only bring her more pain," thornhill murmured, making xavier look at her in horror. eyes were set on something glinting in the distance, and she made her way towards it quickly. she returned with your sword in her hands, the weight heavy but manageable.
"no, you can't do that to her," xavier shook his head at he held you closer to him. it was a pathetic attempt to get you away as thornhill neared. "you can't cut off her wings ms. thornhill—"
"we need to do this, xavier. it will make it easier for us to get her to the hospital quicker." thornhill huffed as she raised the sword up, the weight far too heavy in her hands. it glinted in the moonlight menacingly, shining down on its owner. "i'm sure she'll understand."
"ms. thornhill, don't—" wednesday protested, but it was already too late.
thornhill let the sword fall on the elbow of your wings with a sickening thump. the sound of your bones and skin being cut seemed to echo in the woods like a haunting whisper. when one came off, the other followed.
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"i'm going to visit eugene," weems said as she passed xavier, who could only nod as she left. yet again, there was that uncomfortable silence in the air as he stood in the room with eir. quietly, he moved to your other side as he peered at you.
you were so peaceful when you slept. your hair was a mess on the hospital white pillow, but it surrounded your head like a halo. your eyes were shut gently, and it looked as though you were only sleeping.
sometimes, xavier forgot you were quite literally an angel on earth.
your wings, now cut down to what xavier assumed was its elbow, was behind your back, completely bandaged. the hospital did everything they could to stop your wings from bleeding, but you lost so much blood; not only in the forest, but under their care. rumors circulated around school that you almost died.
"the nurses told me you and some girls visited her every day." eir spoke with a soft nordic accent, but she was easy to understand. she glanced at xavier with the same irises you had; calculating, strategic, and observant.
always on guard.
"the girls were enid and wednesday, her roommates." eir's eyebrows raised at his bitter tone, but said nothing as xavier continued. "i'm xavier. her.. friend."
eir placed the jacket in her hands on a nearby chair, smoothing it out as she left it. "it's our father's jacket," eir explained, her tone gentle, "he gave it to her years ago, when he saw her last." she turned to xavier, her eyes cold but her smile warm. "thank you for visiting her, xavier. i'm sure she'd be happy to know that you have come here every day—"
"where have you been?"
"excuse me?" eir blinked as she looked at xavier, who looked at her with a dirty look.
"you're her sister. one of nine, from what i heard from enid, and yet this is the first time i've seen anyone from her family visit," xavier scoffed, shaking his head to himself, "and only one of you showed up." his voice was pained; not for himself, but for you.
xavier knew what it was like to be lonely, to exist without the presence with others. he knew better than most how it felt to roam an empty home like a ghost, how it felt to be treated as though he wasn't even there. he knew how it felt to be in a room full of people and still be seen as nothing more than someone's shadow.
and to see you, someone who quite literally lost their wings over someone else, it pained him to see that it took your family nearly a week to appear.
"where's her dad— odin?"
"elsewhere."
"he couldn't even appear for her? not even for this— a near death experience?" xavier asked with a mirthless laugh, "does he even care for her?"
a smile appeared on eir's face, like a shadow from the sun. it brought nothing but anger to xavier to see her smile at his accusations, but she knew fully well that xavier was right. odin didn't want to appear, even when his daughter was within death's grasp. her sisters were off doing their jobs in other countries, all too deep in their jobs to manage time for their little sister. eir continued to say, "are you aware that y/n is the weakest of my sisters?"
"that isn't what we're talking about—"
"she is the youngest. the first born in the modern age; the rest of us were born millennia ago," eir looked at you fondly, one of her hands reaching out to touch your face. she stroked your skin under her calloused fingertips, a small sign of love. "valkyries age slowly— we aren't goddesses, you know. but many of us become stronger the more we age," eir shook her head, laughing softly to herself, "but not y/n."
"her body is weaker than ours. her back cripples when her strength runs thin and her skin bruises when you punch it— not like the others." eir shook her head, her hair flowing like water with her movements. "my sisters and i have seen vikings fall at our feet. men and women alike have begged us for mercy," eir swallowed as her face suddenly turned cold. it was as though she was reminiscing the memory of soldiers clawing at the ground as she pulled them away from their world, their pleads still fresh in her ears. "but y/n.. she fell at the feet of others."
"why are you telling me this?" xavier couldn't help but ask, his curiosity getting the better of him as he looked between you and eir.
"because all y/n knows is survival," eir stated with a sigh, "my sisters only know war. we grew up under the safety of our father, but y/n has never been as lucky," a bitter smile tugged at her lips, "it was as though trouble was constantly in her wake. war is temporary, but for it to happen every day in nearly every home you had," she spat her words out like poison, her words gritted and forced, "is cruel. it's cruel and merciless."
"where were you?" xavier asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. her entire explanation of your history did nothing to coerce his anger; if anything, it only made him angrier. eir's eyes looked into his, shining brightly with tears as she answered.
"valhalla. odin didn't deem y/n worthy enough to be with us," eir sniffed harshly, a hand coming up to wipe her nose. the valkyrie cleared her throat, fixing her trench coat over her body. "her wings will grow back when she truly needs them. it will be a painful process, but i am sure that you will be with her, xavier thorpe."
before xavier could protest, eir already left, leaving nothing that even showed that she had arrived in the first place.
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you woke up without that familiar weight on your back.
your hands shook as you reached behind you, a whimper leaving your lips when you were met with your clipped wings.
and with that, you screamed again. nurses and doctors alike rushed into your room. you fought them all off, your recuperating strength almost no match for all of them at once. like a wild animal, you shoved them all off, your cries of horror being carried out into the pale hallways of the hospital.
"who did this to me?" you demanded, "who did this to me?!" your eyes burned red with tears as you fought against their restraints. tears streamed down your face as you wailed for the wings that had been so cruelly taken from you. the one thing that provided you peace and tranquil was mercilessly torn away from your hold, like a child whose mother was ripped away from them.
you knew you were lucky enough to still have the roots of your wings intact. that meant it could grow, but you had seen how painful wing regrowth was. how the sickening crunch of a wing being forcefully regrown brought on unimaginable pain.
but wing regrowth only happened when it needed to happen.
your punches and kicks were rendered into nothing as a doctor put a syringe into your neck, and the world went black again.
you were dispatched the next day, as your wings had miraculously healed their cuts. they were small and useless now, nothing more than an ornament you held on your back. they couldn't fold into your back anymore, only folding close to your body as you walked down the hallway of the hospital.
deep eye bags hung under your eyes as you roamed the hospital like a ghost. nurses, doctors, visitors, and patients alike watched you in awe, for in their eyes, all they saw was an angel with clipped wings. but you paid them no mind, too numb and too exhausted to care as you arrived in the doorway of a patient. your hand held a singular sunflower.
eugene's room was bare, but had a small mason jar of honey that someone from nevermore had brought. it brought a smile to your face to see it, but your smile didn't last when you landed on eugene's form.
the glow was soft around him, almost barely visible in the sunlight that shone over his body through the window. but you saw the golden particles that surrounded him; the gods were still deciding whether he would stay or he would go.
"you're y/n."
you turned around, eyes widening when you saw his moms. "i.. i just wanted to visit him—" you swallowed thickly, looking back at eugene's body. the machine on his nose and mouth that helped him breathe and the scars that littered his face made those familiar tears start up again.
you did this to him. you didn't protect him.
"i'm sue, this is janet," sue said softly, placing a small beehive sculpture onto a nearby table. she looked at you with a soft smile, taking in your weakened form. "honey, are you okay?"
"i'm so," you swallowed, avoiding their gaze as you felt the tears start up again, "i'm so sorry."
wordlessly, one of his moms stepped forward and engulfed you in her arms. your arms were dead at your sides, the guilt rippling through your body like crashing waves as janet wrapped her arms around you too.
they held you so tight. so tight.
"he talks about you and wednesday all the time," sue laughed as she and janet finally pulled away from you, "he always talked about how cool he thought you were."
you smiled, shaking your head to yourself. "he reminds me a lot of the friends i made in my foster homes," you said softly, looking at eugene fondly.
he was like a little brother you never had.
"thank you."
you furrowed your brows in confusion at that, turning your head towards janet. "what for?"
"for protecting him." janet looked at your wings, nothing but empathy in her eyes.
you clenched your jaw, the words doing nothing to calm the turmoil of guilt in your mind. but after a second you forced a tight lipped smile. "i have to go— weems is waiting for me outside." you moved past them awkwardly, avoiding their gaze. "i'll visit him as often as i can."
you retrieved your things from the hospital on your way out. your leather jacket was all fixed, to your surprise, and you pulled it over yourself before you walked out to the hospital parking lot. with your items in a box— you silently wondered who had brought a variety of your mugs and the orchid, as the other gifts were obviously from your roommates— you walked out of the hospital. weems stood next to her car, her outfit, hair, and makeup as perfect as ever. but even in her usually unreadable eyes, you saw sympathy.
you didn't like sympathy.
"it's nice to see that you are strong once again, y/n," weems commented, and you only forced a tight lipped smile.
"yeah. i guess the gods didn't think it was my time yet," you said dryly, already making your way into the passenger seat of the car.
the ride to nevermore was silent, as you weren't really in the mood to socialize with anyone. you simply watched the forest pass you by from the window.
"when we return to nevermore, it will be the beginning of parent's weekend," weems interrupted your contented silence, "i suggest you keep eugene's condition under wraps as to not cause panic."
"to not cause panic?" you echoed in disbelief, turning to the principal with a skeptic look, "principal weems, he's in the icu—"
"keep it under wraps, y/n." even with such a bright smile on her face, weems was able to sound borderline threatening.
the car came to a stop outside of nevermore. the second it was parked, you were already making your way out of the car and into the quad.
the entire quad was full of students' parents and family. you swore that you had never seen the quad so full of people from all over the world. parents, grandparents, siblings, even uncles and aunts all surrounded their kids as they all talked and caught each other up.
your wings ruffled gently under the confines of your leather jacket, still fairly weak. you didn't make your entrance grand, instead opting to stay near the the side of the quad and away from others as you observed them all.
a pang of envy hit your body when you watched everyone with their families. as much as you wanted to play off that you thought parent's weekend was cheesy, you wished that some of your family would make time to show up.
a part of you wished that your father would appear, but that was just the inner child in you talking. you had only ever seen him twice in your life; once when he pulled you out of your orphanage, and the second when he left an entire empty apartment to you. he paid the expenses, but he never visited.
"y/n?" enid's voice made you jump in surprise before you were practically tackled into a hug, her werewolf strength making you hit the wall gently.
"hey, hey; i'm strong but not as strong as i usually am," you managed a laugh, gently pulling enid's arms away from where your wings were hidden.
you didn't know why you were suddenly so embarrassed to show your wings now. maybe it was because it was a huge sign that you lost a fight. maybe it showed just how weak you really were; you didn't know. but feeling enid's hand brush against your wings from over the jacket made you want to hide your wings even more.
you used to be proud of them.
"why didn't you tell us that you were back?" enid asked, almost tearful as she held your shoulders. she looked so worried your original idea of keeping to yourself was hindered for just a second.
"i didn't want to make a scene." you managed a smile as wednesday appeared behind enid. her facade fell ever so slightly, her cold eyes softening as she looked at you.
"i did not doubt that you would fully recuperate in time for this horrible weekend. you have shown yourself to be quite a sadist," wednesday stated, glancing briefly at the other parents in the quad. she swallowed thickly before nodding her head once. "thank you for being there for eugene."
your eyebrows raised at her sudden sincerity. this was the first time you had ever seen her like this, and you nudged her gently as you stood between her and enid. "don't go soft on me, addams. we still have a monster to find."
the sound of weems clearing her throat in the mic made the three of you look up at her. her warm was as bright as ever as she addressed all the family in the quad. you didn't care enough to listen to her words as enid began to talk to you.
"the monster hadn't attacked anyone for the past week," enid said, "maybe you finally scared it off, y/n."
"maybe," you mumbled, "or maybe it's just regaining its strength to finish off the job."
"i realize most of you have heard about the unfortunate incident involving two of our students," weems said into the microphone, making you look up in shock.
she better not.
"but i'm happy to report that eugene is on the mend and is expected to make a full recovery, while y/n has already arrived back from the hospital," her arm stretched out towards where you stood with enid and wednesday.
oh, how you wished you could fly away from everyone's stares. you shifted uncomfortably at the smiles you received from strangers and classmates alike, the sudden spotlight fresh from you arrival from the hospital making you nothing short of embarrassed and annoyed.
"so let's try to focus on the positive and make this weekend the best parent's weekend yet!" weems' smile grew, and claps rippled through the crowd in agreement.
"on the mend? try in a coma," wednesday grumbled under her breath, making you nod and shove your hands into your pockets.
"i'm the reason he's in the hospital," you murmured, primarily to yourself. guilt stained your tone bitterly as you forced yourself to stop pondering about your lack of action.
"that is not your fault, okay?" enid said softly, her usually bright eyes darkening with concern. she turned to wednesday, "you stop beating yourself up over it, too."
"maybe the reason why the monster hasn't been seen is because of this weekend," wednesday said dryly, her expression only darkening at the entrance of her family.
you wouldn't lie, they all fit each other's aesthetic very well.
"i knew i should have worn my plague mask," wednesday practically seethed, already dreading the upcoming socializing she would have to do.
enid tsked, nodding over to her own family. her nose scrunched in slight embarrassment. "would you look at my family?" her mom and dad stood a few feet away from their rowdy boys, who were jumping around the picnic table wildly. "talk about toxic pack mentality," enid sighed, "i give my mom 30 seconds before her judge-y claws come out."
you and wednesday looked at enid with concern, who only let out a slow exhale before forcing a smile. "let's get this over with." she looked at you with a small tilt of her head. "are your sisters coming to parents weekend, y/n?"
"no," you responded curtly, backing away from your roommates. "i'll leave you both to it, though. good luck."
you watched on from the walls of the quad, your arms crossed over each other as you watched on from your brooding corner. everyone seemed happy enough to have their family around.
your eyes drifted up to the second level of the quad, and your eyes met familiar green ones again.
his face was unreadable as he looked at you. you sent him an awkward wave that quickly fell when you noticed bianca standing next to him. but she seemed equally as down as you were, so you awkwardly waved to her as well.
you watched them both talk, bianca obviously bothered by what xavier was saying, until she turned around to a woman wearing gold reptile clothing. she looked shocked, to see her, to say the least, almost like a deer in headlights. your eyes followed xavier as he left bianca with her mom, a sigh leaving your lips as you focused your attention to the families in front of you again.
the amount of family togetherness made you want to cry and throw up all at the same time.
you began to walk away from the quad, wordlessly moving past people like a ghost. you didn't want to stop and chat no more than you already had. you didn't have the energy to force yourself to be civil when you felt nothing but self blame, guilt, and anger for what had happened over the last week.
but most of all, as you walked out to the archery range and felt the wind blow gently against you, you felt grief. because you wanted nothing more than to feel that wind under your wings.
your hands were clenching and unclenching, your chest heaving as you desperately tried to calm yourself. you found yourself too deep in your thoughts to think straight, too guilty to talk to others who obviously cared about you, too angry for feeling so weak that you wanted to do nothing but destroy. you wanted to destroy that monster for leaving a 13 year old kid in the hospital, fighting for his life. you wanted to destroy the monster the same way he destroyed your wings.
you walked towards the rack of bows, hands working on their own as you grabbed them and one of the quivers, carelessly hoisting it over your back as you stood in front of an array of targets.
you loaded a bow in and pulled it back, aiming for a mere second before you let it fly. it hit the middle of the target with a thump, but you were already loading another into the bow. you let each arrow fly carelessly, so desperate for some kind of escape from your mind. from the memories of the mauling not even a full week ago, of you being carelessly thrown around while eugene screamed for help.
how pathetic was it, that you wanted to help eugene but couldn't even help yourself?
you never wanted that to happen to anyone else again. you were so close to experiencing the pain your sisters had told you about— the pain of being too attached only to lose them moments after.
you had to stay away.
"y/n."
another arrow in the middle, cutting through the last.
"y/n, stop."
you reached for another arrow, mindlessly loading it into the bow.
"are you even listening to me?" a hand grabbed your shoulder, and you immediately walked back and turned towards the person, the arrow pointed right at their heart.
xavier raised both of his hands in surrender, worry ghosting over his face as he looked at you in concern. "it's me," he breathed, eyes trailing down to the unwavering arrow. ever so gently, he took a step towards you and pushed the arrow aside so that it pointed away from him. "it's me," he repeated, green eyes boring into yours as you swallowed thickly.
you let the bow fall at your side, the arrow easily dropping to the ground.
"don't do that," you muttered, turning your eyes away from him first, to his surprise.
" 'm sorry," xavier couldn't help but say, the apology slipping past his lips before he could exchange it with a snarky comment. he exhaled slowly, taking a step towards you as you looked at the damage you had done to the archery target. "you shouldn't be training."
"why not?" you huffed, walking away from him to place the quiver and bow back.
"you know fully well why not," xavier said in exasperation, walking quickly after you. he knew you wouldn't stupid; you were just avoiding the idea that you simply weren't strong enough. "you need to be resting."
"you need to let me be."
"i'm not going to."
"and why is that?" you snapped, that familiar glare meeting his eyes. "you think that after that night suddenly our entire relationship has changed—"
"i held you while you were bleeding," xavier seethed, and you stepped towards him, stabbing an accusatory finger at him.
"you stopped me from getting to eugene."
xavier chuckled in disbelief, your words making him shake his head. he was sure that it was just the attack speaking; you were obviously still on edge over the whole thing, but he had to admit, to hear you be so mean hurt him. "do you know how much blood you lost?"
you opened your mouth to fire back, but xavier stopped you.
"it was everywhere, y/n. and your wings.." his eyes drifted to the leather jacket that covered you, your wings hidden under them. "your wings looked horrible."
your pained gaze left his eyes as you looked up at the sky, feeling that familiar pressure behind your eyes.
"thornhill had to cut them to bring you to the hospital," xavier continued, making your sadness slip away for a moment for it to be replaced with anger. but xavier saw it. "don't blame her for it, y/n."
"i feel like blaming everything right now," you said with a joyless laugh, "i feel like.. burning everything."
xavier looked at you, observing the way your turmoil was finally shining through the cracks of the walls you had built. "do you wanna go on a walk with me? you don't need to say anything— i know that you're definitely not in the mood for a conversation but.. i don't want you committing arson."
you couldn't help the small smile that tugged on your lips at that, xavier's eyes softening when he saw the genuine smile. his heart tugged in his chest when he looked at you; not out of sympathy, but out of something else unexplainable.
the both of you began to walk around the school grounds, the ambiance of nature being the only noise between the both of you. every time you approached the woods, xavier found himself moving to the side of where the woods were, walking along the border so that you didn't have to.
"i met your sister two days ago."
"you what?" you couldn't help but say, eyebrows raising. "they actually visited?"
there it was again, that tug in xavier's chest. "why are you so surprised?" he couldn't help but ask, but he continued anyway, "it was only one of them— eir," he listened to you sigh and murmur a small, 'of course it was,' before he proceeded, "and it was the first time she visited in that entire week."
"how are you so sure?"
"because wednesday, enid, and i visited you every day." xavier could feel your eyes on him. his cheeks burned red at the small confession, but he played it off, saying, "i got mad at her."
you swatted his arm in response, making xavier wince as he rubbed your mark. "stop interfering with my family matters," you scolded coldly, and he groaned at your words.
"fine, it'll be the first and last time, but that was the first time she ever visited. your father didn't even come."
"eir has always been the one that visited. she's never visited a lot but," you sighed, "she was always there. odin would never go." your tone was bitter as you kicked at a bunch of dry leaves on the ground.
"i understand." you looked at xavier curiously, and he took it as a sign to continue. "my dad told me in a text that he wouldn't make it to this year's parent's weekend," a forced, tight lipped smile appeared on his face, "he hasn't gone to all the others, so.. i don't really know what i expected."
you stayed quiet at that. you knew how that felt, to want a parent's presence and always be turned down. it was as though you were nothing but a burden to them. but silently, you weighed your options of opening up to xavier. you didn't want to get attached.
you wouldn't get attached.
"did eir talk to you?" you asked, changing the subject quickly. you didn't want to get into the nitty-gritty about your father when you barely knew him. he existed, you knew that much, but it was as though he was a figment of your imagination. like an imaginary friend that appeared only when they wanted to.
"she did," xavier nodded, looking ahead of him. it was a particularly cloudy day today, and the sun barely shone through all the thick clouds that hung in the air.
"about?"
"you." he listened to your groan, a fond smile gracing his face at the sound. "i think i learned more about you from her than i have from you."
"eir and her big mouth," you muttered under your breath. "well? what'd she say?"
"that you were the youngest of the ten," xavier began, "that you were always attracted to trouble—" he watched as you opened your mouth to protest, only for him to interrupt you, "don't even try and argue when you know it's right."
you shut your mouth and let him continue.
"and," the words ran around in his head as he chose them carefully, knowing that it would be a sensitive subject to bring up. but he pushed himself over the edge to say it. "that every home was war for you."
your jaw clenched, the immediate subject of your various home lives making you immediately close in on yourself. it was as though you could feel all of your walls strengthen at the comment, all to fight against xavier.
"you don't need to tell me more if you don't want to," xavier stated, and with that, the walls fell again.
"good."
you both continued your walk in silence. whether it was uncomfortable or comfortable, you didn't know, but you were silently thankful for it. you didn't feel particularly conversational.
but you found yourself being more curious about xavier. if anything, he was as guarded as you were— what a hypocrite. but maybe you were a hypocrite too.
"do you still think i'm the monster?"
you couldn't look him in the eye. but you know those green eyes of his were staring at you in hope that someone believed he was innocent. you didn't look him in the eye as you responded with a, "i don't know who it is."
xavier sighed, his shoulders falling at that. he didn't know how to convince you or wednesday that he was innocent— you were both far too stubborn to even hear him out. oftentimes, he heard wednesday's accusatory voice yell at him much like she did the night of you and eugene's attack.
"i'm sure you aren't fairing too well after the attack, either," you commented, changing the subject yet again. "how do you feel?"
"honestly?" xavier sighed heavily, "i can't get the feeling of your blood on my hands."
a spark of guilt ran through your body. "i'm sorry," you mumbled, the apology barely audible. but the wind carried it to xavier's ears, to which he could only shake his head in response.
"it isn't your fault," xavier said firmly, turning his head to look at you. but your head was focused on your shoes as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. he nudged your shoulder gently. "i mean it, y/n. besides— i've been using art to cope with all of it."
your eyebrows raised in curiosity. you guessed that his primary muse was the monster; you were right, but xavier knew that he had pages full of you and only you.
if anything, you had been his muse almost as much as the monster.
"can i see some of it?" xavier's skeptical look made your eyes widen, "not for evidence! gods, i just want to see."
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you looked around xavier's dorm in interest as he shut the door behind you. he had kept rowan's side of the dorm just as he had left it; it seemed as though he was stopping himself from adding items to rowan's side.
there were two easels set up near his desk; one of them was covered by a sheet, while the other was the unfinished painting of the monster. your throat dried as you peered into its crimson eyes and its long claws; the same claws that hooked under your skin as though you were nothing but a piece of meat. your fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily— a small sign of your nervousness as you continued to stare at the painting.
but your trance was broken when xavier turned the canvas so that its back side was towards you. "this is how i cope, remember that," he told you, and you found yourself nodding. "that wasn't what i wanted you to see," xavier said, his cheeks burning red as he turned to the other easel. swiftly, he pulled the blanket off of the painting. "this was."
it was you.
the sketch he had done of you prior was now alive on the easel— literally. your wings were flapping behind you as you flied high in the sky. the armor you wore shone as the nearby moon hit it, and your helmet seemed to glint under the stars. your wingspan was huge, reaching from one side of the canvas to the other side. he paid so much attention to detail that you could see the familiar pattern of brown on your feathers you looked so powerful. so mighty.
but to see it in front of you after knowing what you've lost, you couldn't help but turn around immediately. "i have to go," you managed through the lump in your throat. you moved past xavier, his face falling as he reached out to hold your shoulder before you could leave, his hand brushing against the top of your wings over your jacket.
"wait—"
you immediately pulled your shoulder away as though he had burned you. you looked almost scared as you stared at him, your eyes misting over in tears.
gods, you really needed to get yourself together.
"i.. i appreciate the painting. i really do— but when i look at it," you exhaled sharply, unable to finish your sentence. you glanced at it, taking in how powerful you looked. how your wings were a symbol for many that everything would be okay. how you looked so strong. "it reminds me that..i don't look like that anymore."
xavier's brows were furrowed as he looked at you. your words hung heavy in the air, and you were almost too ashamed to look at him.
" 'm sorry," you laughed, looking up at the ceiling as you blinked your tears away. xavier walked closer to you as you did. "you're a creep, actually, for making paintings like that. i honestly expected it to be of wednes.." your words died in your throat when you felt his hands hold your face gently, pulling your head down to look at him.
xavier didn't say anything as he used his thumbs to wipe away your tears. he touched you, someone who was so accustomed to war, as though you were delicate. his green eyes studied you as you looked at him, your eyes drifting down to his barely parted lips.
and as he held your face between his hands, he kissed you. not in the way he had before. he kissed you as though he was telling you something that only you would understand. as though every slide of his lips against yours was another promise.
but you ignored those promises, because to you, promises would only be broken. because you didn't want to promise yourself to another if it meant that you could lose them in the end.
xavier pulled away from you, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked at your features. he was looking at you like you were his favorite painting. it was as though you had been sculpted by such a tender hand that part of him couldn't believe that you were truly here in front of him.
"i want you to make me feel better." the request fell out of your lips before you could catch it. it was barely audible, like a whisper in the wind, but xavier heard all of it.
xavier only nodded, and you both met in the middle again. the kiss, once so composed and gentle, became more passionate as you felt him under your touch. his hands held your face as he kissed you over and over, as though your taste alone was addicting. and to xavier, it was.
your hands ran through under his shirt as you found yourself on his bed yet again. you pulled it over his head before the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, making him fall back. xavier quickly used his elbows to raise the upper half of his body to look at you. a frown tugged at his lips as he fully sat up, bringing you closer to him.
you sat on your knees on the space in front of him. your eyes were on his as his hands gently want to the zipper of your leather jacket. you gripped his wrist before he could pull it down, nervousness evident in your eyes. you took in a breath before you used your hand to guide his hand down to fully unzip your jacket.
his hands paused before he could fully pull it off of you. "may i?" xavier asked softly, waiting patiently for your response. when you nodded, he shook his head, murmuring, "i need you to say it. i want you to be sure."
"take off my jacket, xavier," you said, never pulling your eyes from his. your stare only fell when you felt your wings flutter out of the confines of the jacket; they were weak enough to not be as responsive as they usually were. xavier let out a slow exhale when his eyes trailed from your clipped wings to the three neatly-stitched scratches on your back, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"you're so beautiful," xavier breathed, his fingers feather light as he traced your tattoo.
if your fear for love didn't burn so strongly, then maybe you would've found yourself seeing him in a different light.
but you found yourself yearning for something else entirely.
xavier's lips met yours again as you pushed him so that his upper body was propped up against the headboard. you straddled him, his eyes looking up at you innocently. you throw your shirt over your head before leaning down to kiss him again. you rocked your hips against his, reveling in the low moan that he let out into your mouth. you felt him through his jeans, distracting him from kissing you properly as another groan left his mouth.
you lips left his, leaving a single line of saliva between you. your mouth met his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along his skin that made him whine for more. your hand found its home at the base of his neck, squeezing ever so lightly.
"i thought i was supposed to be taking care of you," xavier said with a breathless laugh that quickly turned into a groan when he felt you press down against him again.
"you are," you mumbled, pulling at his pants.
xavier helped you take his pants off along with yours, both of you in your underwear as you kissed him again. he could feel how wet you were with every rock of your hips against his cock.
"i want you," you whispered against his mouth. you felt his hands trail down your body, mapping every inch of you under his fingertips. his fingers hooked under your underwear, stretching the elastic before letting it slap against your skin. he pulled it to the side, allowing his fingers to rub your wetness around, your small moan being swallowed by his mouth.
xavier hummed against your lips, pulling away for a second to whisper, "you have me."
another empty promise.
your eyes darkened at that. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, teasing his tip along your pussy to gather up its wetness. xavier's eyes were half lidded as he looked up at you, cheeks flushed as he bucked his hips up desperately. "patient," you scolded, before you sank fully onto his cock. the both of you gasped at the feeling, your hands on his chest as you allowed yourself to get used to his size. you shifted slowly, a low moan leaving his lips as his head fell back.
steadily, you moved up and down his dick, reveling in the feeling of being so fucking full. but you couldn't look away from him as you worked up and down; how his hands held your waist to guide you, how your body moved so fluidly against his, how his long hair framed his face so perfectly. his rosy lips were parted, letting out a whine when you slid down slowly, the pace almost unbearable but so so good.
"pretty boy," you said, your hips moving back and forth. you watched a sinful smile appear on his face at that. the glow from the sex only made him so much more beautiful under your gaze, as though he was the angel and not you. and how lewd was he to smile so sinfully as you fucked him. "so fucking pretty."
"y/n, move faster," xavier said, eyes pleading as he looked up at you. he was taking in every part of you; your heaving chest, the sweat that was misted along your skin, the way you looked at him. he was so addicted to you that it almost felt as though he felt something.
your hips followed his request, his eyes rolling back again when you began to ride him faster. your moans only spurred him to buck his hips up in time with you, the added pressure nothing short of delicious as you felt him hit that spot in you that made you see stars. "xavier," you moaned, and he fucked you harder.
"say my name again," xavier murmured, leaning forward to kiss your neck feverishly. you moaned his name again, feeling him leave marks in his wake. like water color, he painted you purple as you moved like water under his fingertips. so fluidly, your hips moved together, the friction borderline delicious as you chased your high.
the knot in your stomach was almost too much to bear, your moans raising in volume as you felt xavier bite down on your shoulder, hiding a particularly loud groan that threatened to leave him. "so beautiful," you heard him mumble, too high off of sex to make a comprehensible sentence. "gon' cum jus' for you," he continued, hands rubbing your hips and holding you close.
your head flew back as you finally came, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure surged through you. your hips continued to move as xavier's hands moved you back and forth, letting you ride him through your orgasm. xavier's lewd noises were muffled in your neck as he came right after you, spilling his cum into you and feeling it leak down.
ever so slowly, he raised you off of him, and moved you to lay down next to him. he peppered light kisses over the hickeys what decorated your skin, his fingers moving some of your hair out of the way as he allowed you to bury your head into his pillow. you looked at him, eyes unreadable as you left a lingering kiss at the corner of his lips.
and with that, you turned away from him to sleep.
by the time you woke, you felt his skin against yours. your hand had found itself holding onto his wrist gently as his arm stayed draped over your body. like a drum, his pulse thumped against the pads of your fingertips, strong and steady. you felt his soft breathing brush against the nape of your neck as he slept soundly.
you gently pushed his arm off of you, letting it fall behind you as you sat up at the edge of his bed. you looked up at the moon that shone through his window, your heart aching at the sight of it.
how you wished to fly close to the moon again.
your eyes floated over to the little details in xavier's room. the photos of him, rowan, and ajax, all smiling at the camera. an photo of a younger and enid, with enid on his back. doodles that ranges from cartoonish to realistic, all pinned up messily above his desk.
a page from his sketchbook of wednesday, playing her cello. now of all the pieces of art he had on the wall, he seemed to have paid attention to her's the most.
"why aren't you resting?" his soft voice brought you away form your thoughts, grounding you to the earth. he shifted behind you, the bed moving in his wake as he propped his head up on his arm. you were looking away from him, oblivious to the pained way he was looking at your clipped wings. the cut had already fully healed thanks to your godly blood, but the scars from the monster remained on your back.
"i have to go," you managed to say, turning back at him. xavier looked so drowsy, his eyes slowly blinking as he struggled to stay awake, but his green irises were alert as ever. your eyes followed each mark you had left on his skin like a constellation that only you knew of, the blooming purple nothing short of sinful.
"this means nothing, right?" his question was asked before he could stop it. it had been on his mind even before he had closed his eyes. he had gotten an intense feeling of deja vu as he asked you the question, knowing fully well that you had said something similar when you first slept together.
"right," you murmured in response. it was as though you were both signing a strict agreement that day. no strings. no feelings. only empty promises.
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"i don't understand why i'm being invited."
"because it's a girl's night, silly!" enid smiled brightly, fixiing the snood she made for you over your head. it was an off white color; one that matched your color palette (enid's words, not yours). "and no one's seen you out of the dorm for a week unless it's for class. everyone's been worried."
for most of the week, you had kept to yourself. you didn't have the full energy to converse with others, and you hadn't been speaking to anyone for no longer than a few minutes; even xavier. but you needed time to recuperate before devoting your time to killing some monster and solving a murder.
your wings were strong enough to fully disappear into your back now. but it had been far too long since anyone had seen any sight of them. you guessed that you were forcing yourself to get used to the feeling of them being in your back forever; if you didn't have all your wings, then you might as well not have them at all.
wednesday had caught you up on what had happened during your week of rest and relaxation, telling you all about garrett gates and crackstone. in the same way she caught you up, you caught her up on what happened the night of the attack.
"i didn't get to see much before the explosion. i covered eugene with my wings because i was scared debris would fly at us."
wednesday looked down at the taxidermy kit her parents had given her. her surprise party was the night prior, and you had to say that you did a pretty good job at acting unsuspicious (though, you and enid kept sending each other excited looks all night).
enid, because she believed every birthday should be celebrated. you, because you couldn't wait to see how miserable wednesday would look when given a party.
but it was interrupted by a vision; one that wednesday had told you about moments prior.
"but someone definitely knew that we had gone in there with eugene earlier. whoever it was, they knew about the monster and was either covering for them or was covering their own tracks because they were the monster," you twirled a knife in your hands absentmindedly. fidgeting helped you think. "i think that we shouldn't rule out the possibility of there being an accomplice, but i'm gonna be honest— with weems covering for rowan's murder," your words turned bitter as you spoke about weems. the anger you had towards her for covering up a murder and not allowing rowan's friends to properly grieve still ran heavily through you. "i wouldn't be surprised if she knew something about the monster."
"besides, aren't you excited that it was wednesday's idea? i mean, she rarely does this— i guess it's because it's her birthday today." the werewolf was practically jumping on the ceiling from excitement, her hands moving passionately with her words as she walked away from you to talk to wednesday.
"wednesday's idea?" you echoed, your brows furrowing at the thought of wednesday addams planning a girl's night. you walked to your closet and grabbed your holster for your dagger.
just in case.
you knew you were smart enough to bring it, because you found yourself stopping as you opened the car to what you believed was your uber driver, only to see tyler staring at you in disbelief. "since when were you an uber driver?" you asked with furrowed brows, climbing into the car and shutting the door behind you.
"since never?" tyler responded, equally as confused as you as his eyes darted between you and enid in the backseat and wednesday sitting coldly in the passenger's seat.
"wait— you're our uber driver?" enid asked confusedly, turning to wednesday for answers.
"why do you keep asking that— i thought we were going on a date." tyler too looked at wednesday for answers.
"we thought it was a girls' night out!" enid explained, her look of disbelief slowly turning into one of realization. there was no girls' night out.
"there's been a change of plans," wednesday said curtly, not even looking at them.
"what's with the weird matching hoodie scarf things?" tyler asked, making you send him a warning glare.
"don't ask," you stated, your tone enough to make him shut up.
the gates tyler drove up to were overgrown and much too rusty; it practically screamed tetanus. fog obstructed your view of what was beyond the gate, as did the overgrown plants. you found yourself standing right at the front of the gate, looking up at the top of it.
if you had your wings, you could've just flown over.
"this isn't what i signed up for," tyler protested as wednesday began to pick the lock, his eyes nothing short of concerned as he only watched her pick the lock easily.
"ditto!" enid cried out, obviously terrified, "and i bet y/n didn't sign up for this either she's literally healing from getting attacked!"
"i'm healed," you corrected, your lips tugging into a frown as you turned to wednesday. "you should've just asked us to come along instead of getting their hopes up," you muttered to her, your tone only mildly annoyed.
"you knew that if i was planning something for my birthday, i wouldn't celebrate it with a dinner or a surprise party," wednesday said pointedly, not even fazed by tyler and enid's complaints, " if you didn't, then you wouldn't have packed your dagger. i want to do this."
"y/n's right—" tyler said with a nod, "you should've just asked us, not tricked us."
"if you want to go, you can." wednesday gave them a look before pullling out a flashlight. "i'm going to check out the garage."
the entire mansion was overgrown with ivy and vines, doing little to calm the hard beating of your heart. it looked as though there hadn't been anyone in and out of the area in years; which made sense, since supposedly all the gates family members either left or died.
"it's, uh, nice to see you're all better."
you turned to tyler, who was walking behind you. his flashlight was in his hands, illuminating the small smile on his face. but that smile quickly faltered when he saw the skepticism on your features. "wednesday told me about the wings," he added in explanation, watching as your skeptic look turned to a stone cold one. it was as though the mention of your wings left you numb once again. but tyler's eyes were still on you, observing you quietly.
"right. thanks."
the door rattled as wednesday struggled against it. she frustratedly tried to pull one last time, only to huff angrily when it refused to budge.
"let me try," enid said, walking closer and putting her flashlight in her pocket. with one strong pull, the door flew open, making enid's lips tilt upwards into a smile. but the look of shock wednesday gave her made her chuckle embarrassedly. "werewolf thing."
you reached for a nearby light switch as you entered. eerily, the light began to flicker as it illuminated the garage, focusing on a car that was parked right under it. it was covered by a sheet.
the the most confusing thing that you could see about it was that it looked spotless. even the cover looked as though it was recently used— not like the rest of the house.
wednesday pulled the cover swiftly, revealing a blue cadillac. "this is the car that ran the cadillac over," she breathed, and enid whimpered out of fear.
"this just took a horribly dark turn," the blonde said worriedly, her hand pointing towards tyler as she continued, "we need to call tyler's dad right freaking now."
"why?' wednesday asked, turning to enid, "so he an take me back to nevermore and get me expelled? it's not gonna happen." the pig tailed girl walked to the door that led into the house without another look.
"stay close," you told enid as you walked after wednesday, enid nodding as she followed behind you.
"how can she be so stubborn? i mean, all we wanted was a girls' night out!" enid's voice raised an octave due to her fear, her arm coming up to hook under your's.
the door creaked open as you entered it with enid close in tow. her flashlight moved around the abandoned hallway, the dust creating a layer of gray everywhere you looked. it was as though the house was left to rot and decay on its own. there were still photos of the gates hung up on the walls, all smiling at the camera. you let your hand run along the walls that peeled like a snake.
you found yourself in an office of sorts, decorated with an old t.v, a desk, a sofa, and a chair. the chandelier that one illuminated the room had fallen onto the desk. but what truly caught your eye was the painting of the gates. they were all positioned professionally and painted with a delicate hand; so delicate, that it seemed as though their eyes were following your every step. your eyes narrowed as enid and wednesday's flashlight focused on garret gates, who stood proudly next to his mother in front of a background of flowers.
"the tacky painting is fitting for a bunch of outcast haters," you murmured to enid, but primarily to yourself as you observed them all.
you followed wednesday as she walked into the library. cobwebs upon cobwebs covered the table like a sheet, creating multiple layers with the dust. antique items of all sorts were toppled over and rendered lifeless in what you would have considered a beautiful room. you looked at the titles of all the books, your eyes trailing up to follow wednesday's flashlight. it was shining directly on an area that had no dust and no cobwebs; the top of a mahogany wall design right between the books.
wednesday reached up and pressed on it, and the mechanisms from within the door began to click and move. one of the library shelves pressed in and moved to the side, revealing a shrine for no one other than joseph crackstone. at the sides, someone had written 'blood will rain when i rise,' in red marker; you knew that it wasn't real blood. you looked closer, frowning at the sight of multiple candles that littered the small shelf below the pilgrim's painting.
"you'd think that of all the things they'd worship, they'd worship someone that isn't a colonizer," you said with a judgmental look. but to say that you were surprised that a family who hated anyone remotely different would idolize a colonizer would be a lie.
"who doesn't have a spooky built-in alter in their family library?" enid managed out with a hesitant smile.
"our is in the living room. more seating for year-long dia de los muertos," wednesday mumbled, watching as you reached forward to press a candle wick between your fingers. you pressed another wick between your fingers. your face dropped at the heat you felt from both.
"they're still warm," you told the others, hearing enid's uncomfortable whimper.
"tyler, you search the ground floor. enid, y/n, and i will search upstairs," wednesday ordered, glaring at tyler when he looked at her skeptically. "what?"
"why can't y/n stay on the ground floor?"
"scared?" you couldn't help but ask, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest.
"she is the second person who knows the most about what is going on," wednesday said curtly, looking at tyler with narrowed eyes, "or do you need her protection?"
tyler raised his hands in surrender. "fine! jus' seems unfair, that's all."
wednesday only huffed before turning around, already making her way to the stairs.
"sad, isn't it?" you said sarcastically, moving to follow wednesday and enid as they began to walk back down the hall. you were careful not too make too much noise as you walked up the stairs, as you could hear some of the steps groan under your feet.
you walked behind wednesday and enid, looking up the walls and further up ahead to assure your temporary safety. wednesdsay came to a stop at the top of the steps, turning to the both of you. "you go left, enid and i go right."
"do you seriously want to split up? here?" enid asked frantically, her voice falling to a harsh whisper as she said, "that is literally how every best friend dies in a horror movie."
"i'll be fine. don't worry about me." you briskly turned around to search the left side of the upper floor, your hand floating over the holster of your dagger as you peeked into every room. but it seemed as though every room was rotten and decaying; bed frames were slanted off of the walls, rooms were left to the rats and spiders, and the strong smell of asbestos wafted all throughout the house.
but the longer you walkers, the more you felt as though something was wrong. something was horribly off in the house, and it wasn't the evident racism against outcasts or the fact that they had a shrine.
you peeked into the last room down the hall, your face falling at the sudden neatness of it all. it was as if every room was hit by a tornado except for this one, leaving it spotless. the pink sheets of the bed seemed washed, as did the rug that sat on the ground. not a speck of dust remained on any of the furniture, showing off how well it had been taken care of. on the side table of the bed sat a vase full of pastel pink roses.
"guys!" you called behind your shoulder, reaching out a hand to touch the roses gently. they were still fresh; not a single sign of death.
wednesday and enid ran in, their faces equally as shocked as yours as they began to poke around. enid went up next to you, gazing at the roses in thought. "these are really new," she commented, making you nod as you turned to everything else in the room.
"most of the things in here have been taken care of. even the sheets and the rug have been washed." you ran your hand down the sheets of the bed, the fabric soft under your touch.
"this is laurel gates' room," wednesday said, her eyes set on a music box. you and enid approached her, peering over her shoulders as she shone her flashlight on the embossed 'l.g.' on the outside of the box. a ballerina stood proudly inside of the open music box for all to see.
"looked like somebody moved back into their old room," enid said, her face now in what seemed like a permanent frown.
"not possible— she died 25 years ago. drowned overseas."
you placed your hand on the table where the music box sat, silently catching the attention of your roommates. you raised a finger to your lips, your hairs standing up straight as the sound of objects clattering reached all of your ears. "we have to go," you said firmly, unsheathing your dagger as you walked quickly to the doorway, peeking in both sides before motioning for them to follow.
wednesday nodded, grabbing the ballerina box as she took enid's hand and dragged her along to follow you. enid's complaint of, "this is officially the worst girls' night ever!" didn't distract you from finding a way out of the house.
"guys! get out! it's here!" tyler's panicked yell was muffled by the floors of the house. the three of you made a beeline for the stairs, fully ready to go down, until the familiar sound of claws slashing skin made you stop the other two.
the sight of the monster's shadow made your blood run cold. its claws were as sharp as you remembered it, and you found yourself gripping your dagger as hard as ever as you felt the feeling of being pierced through your back like a meat in a freezer. those long nails, sharped than daggers, were in your back only a week and a half prior.
they were the same claws that brought eugene into a coma.
and you almost found yourself giving into the impulse of revenge. the impulse that wanted you to dig your dagger into the monster just as it did to you, to give it a slow death that would allow you to watch the life die in its eyes. you wanted to tear it apart limb from limb just like it had torn apart its victims. you wanted it to experience the same pain they all felt.
but you didn't.
you pushed the dagger back into its holster. "go!" you told the others, pushing them back up the steps as you allowed yourself to turn your back to the monster, feeling the steps rattle with its every step.
"the dumbwaiter!" wednesday said, already running towards it and pushing enid inside.
it was right behind you. you could feel it walking closer and closer as you pushed wednesday into the tight space before following quickly behind her. you looked at the monster dead in its red eyes before you shut the dumbwaiter door, pushing the others back as you allowed yourself to shield them.
"oh my god, oh my god," enid whispered frantically, her hands shaky as she turned her flashlight off. you raised a finger to your lips again, your eyes wide as you looked at enid and wednesday.
they weren'y hurt. that was good.
wednesday swallowed thickly, her eyes set on the door before the dumbwaiter rattled. outside, the monster roared in anger as it tried to get to the three of you, its arms seemingly shaking the entire dumbwaiter as it only became more furious by the second. wednesday reached forward, her snood in hand as she began wrapping her snood around the two handles of the dumbwaiter to keep it shut.
"no, not your snood!" enid said desperately, her eyes pleading as she tried to stop wednesday from using the scarf she had worked so hard on.
"stop," wednesday said, her eyes stirring with something unreadable as she continued to use it to keep the handles shut. you looked at enid, who seemed close to tears, and murmured a small, 'don't worry,' that honestly didn't do as much as you hoped it would.
the sound of screeching metal reached your ears, and you turned around, your throat running dry when your eyes met bulging red ones. the monster had scratched the dumbwaiter with its three claws, allowing it to look right at the three of you. like a predator stalking its prey, it readied itself to reach inside to grab you until—
the rope snapped, sending the three of you plummeting down. enid's screams and the sound of rushing wind were all you heard before the dumbwaiter reached the basement with a loud crash, sending the three of you flying out of it.
you groaned as you landed on your back, the stinging pain pain from the healing scratches still making you wince. you prayed to the gods that the wounds didn't open up again.
you stood up, turning to enid and helping her up easily. the sound of wednesday pulling the light open made you look towards it, your heart falling at what you saw on the shelves. jars of human remains, from a foot to half a face, were neatly preserved and on display for you to see. you could feel the pain radiating off of them as you took a step closer, your face only showing your disbelief. "these body parts were taken from the monster's victims."
how could their family and friends grieve if they didn't have every part of their family member to bury as they wished?
dust fell on you with every step the monster took, the old wood practically bending under its weight as it walked slowly to where the basement door was. you rushed the two girls towards a nearby window, helping push enid up and through before pushing wednesday up.
"y/n, come on!" wednesday yelled, the monster right behind you as you forced yourself to jump up to the window, their hands grabbing you and pulling you through.
you let out a groan when you felt those familiar claws only swipe at your leg right before you were fully out of the basement. you laid on your back on the ground, your eyes set on the starless sky as you felt the pain radiate from your calf and your back. but quickly you forced yourself up, hiding your new wound with your pant leg.
"you okay?" you heard wednesday ask enid, only for her to scoff and walk away, saying 'since when do you care?' over her back.
you and enid ran down the woods, her run slowing to a jog when she saw that wednesday wasn't following her. "what the hell are you doing?!" she yelled; you had never seen her more stressed. but she had every right to be.
"we have to go back for tyler!" wednesday yelled behind her back, running quickly to the side of the house.
"we have to go with her," you told enid, who only stubbornly shook her head as she pointed in wednesday's direction.
"no! she put all of us in trouble, y/n—"
"you and i both know that you care too much about her to leave her with someone who's wounded," you hissed, making the werewolf shut her mouth immediately. "there's no place for grudges during a time like this." your words hung in the air for a few seconds, your eyes studying the discontented look on enid's face before she reluctantly nodded in agreement.
"fine."
"great." you led her back to where wednesday ran, your hand holding your dagger warily as you followed wednesday's general direction. you found wednesday knelt down next to tyler, who had three deep scratched on his chest.
she turned to enid, handing her her flashlight. "enid, hold this," she said, her voice panicked as she knelt back down to tyler. enid reluctantly held it up for her, her foot tapping impatiently on the ground.
"that thing is still inside!" enid cried, head whipping between tyler's wounded form and the area around them.
you stood by as a guard, your focus entirely on the woods and the possible areas the monster could attack. your hand held your dagger so tight that your knuckles paled, the handle's groove leaving indents on your skin. you could feel blood seep down your calf from your wound, but you refused to acknowledge it, too focused on protecting the others to even care about your own health. their panicked voices faded out into the background when you heard the crunch of nearby leaves.
your head turned quickly to the side, your dagger ready to be thrown before your muscles relaxed at the sight of xavier.
"xavier?" you asked in confusion, his face falling when he saw you.
he turned his head to the side, seeing tyler bleeding profusely from the scratched. xavier ignored wednesday's look of shock and suspicion as he tugged his scarf off of his neck, handing it to tyler. "here. take this."
tyler grunted as wednesday applied pressure to his wound, her face showing subtle signs of worry and panic as she cared for him. but she looked back at xavier in shock, her head already putting the pieces together and coming up with a conclusion for his sudden appearance.
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you sat at the table next to enid and xavier, your eyes set on your fidgeting fingers as wednesday patched tyler up.
you hadn't said a word since the attack at the house, your body far too tired and your mind too spent to actually come up with meaningful words to say. you felt nothing but pain as you massaged your hands over and over; pain from the body parts you had found in the house, pain from your back hitting the ground after a week of being out of the hospital, and pain from the wound you were hiding from everyone. you were sure that your socks were now stained crimson with how the blood had seeped down, but no one had noticed that you were wounded, as your pants were black.
"thanks doc," tyler said with a weak yet lighthearted smile as wednesday placed another bandage between his scratches.
you peeked up to look at xavier after the comment. you were met with the face of jealousy and envy. clenched jaw, a subtle eye roll, a frown tugging at his lips.
he cared about her so much. it brought a small pained spark in your heart.
you nudged him from under the table with your wounded leg, ignoring the pain that shot up your calf at the action. xavier looked at you with furrowed brows, and you only mouthed, "stop being jealous."
xavier huffed at that, only turning back to look at wednesday. to say that he wasn't sure what you meant would be an understatement; he knew fully well what you meant. he liked wednesday. he wanted to tell her how he felt, but she cared so much for tyler.
of course, to you, xavier's answer seemed simple; just tell her about his feelings. but xavier was never good at words, and he was even worse at figuring out his emotions. maybe that was why he found himself sleeping with you again and again; he didn't have to deal with them if it was with you.
feeling a romantic connection with you was different from worry, in his eyes. because he found himself looking at you, fidgeting so strongly with your fingers, heavy eye bags under your eyes, the usual healthy glow of your skin now gone and replaced with something duller, and he felt nothing but worry.
now, it was his turn to nudge you. "you're quieter than usual."
"am i usually loud?"
"loud and annoying, yeah," xavier said, making you roll your eyes. you leaned back in your chair, placing your clasped hands on your chest.
"what is it?" you asked him, your voice dry as you looked at him expectedly. even your eyes didn't have the same spark in them.
"are you okay?" xavier asked, the question no bigger thna a whisper. he was looking at you with furrowed brows, his eyes tracing over your form as though he was checking for any sign of a wound.
"'m fine," you only managed out, letting out a heavy exhale through your nose. you turned your head away from him, moving your legs slightly.
but as xavier looked you over for injuries, his landed on the sock under your loose black pants. they rode up slightly as you moved— that was why you were able to get away with hiding the scratch, as the bottom of your pants had ridden up slightly while you were getting away —but your socks were white. from where xavier sat, he could see that the white cloth had been stained crimson with your blood.
he stood up abruptly. "tyler," he forced out through gritted teeth, his eyes lingering on how wednesday's hands pressed the bandages down for a second before focusing on the guy, "where's your bathroom?"
"that hallway, to the left," tyler responded, offering a small yet kind smile that xavier didn't return.
"c'mon, y/n." xavier stood next to you, offering a hand to your seated form. you looked at it with a skeptical look before looking up at xavier.
"excuse you?"
"we need to talk, y/n." xavier lied, his lie believable enough to make you groan and take his hand to stand up. he saw you wince ever so slightly when you put your weight on your wounded leg, but you played it off.
you pulled your hand away from him as you followed him into the bathroom. "what is it?" you asked confusedly as he pulled you in, shutting the door and locking it behind you.
xavier didn't respond as he set the toilet seat down to close it. "sit there," he told you, moving past you to rummage through the galpin's bathroom drawers.
you scoffed at his order, crossing your arms over your chest. "not until you tell me what was so important that you had to drag us away from them."
xavier didn't respond, pulling out a gauze pad, petroleum jelly, and a wrap around bandage. he bent down to look under their sink for clean cloths.
"gods, hello? are you even listening to me?" you asked irritatedly, your tone making xavier stand up straight and look at you.
"why didn't you tell them that you were hurt?" your look of irritation fell, confirming xavier's hunch as he sighed, shaking his head to himself. he didn't say anything as he organized the items on the floor of the bathroom, his throat moving as he swallowed. "i saw your sock when you moved. you're bleeding."
you didn't speak as you reluctantly sat on the toilet seat, relief spreading through your body at the lack of weight on your leg. you watched as he knelt down to sit on the floor in front of you, a clean cloth in his hand. he applied pressure to your wound, hearing you hiss at the feeling. "well?" he asked, looking up at you. "why didn't you?"
you clenched your jaw, wanting so deeply to avoid his gaze, but his green eyes were searching your face for some kind of answer. "it wasn't important. just a scratch."
"tyler got a scratch too."
"why are you bringing him up? you literally hate the guy."
"and how do you know that?" xavier challenged, making you scoff.
"i see the way you look at wednesday. how you want her to look at you with the same look she gives tyler," you said, sighing as you continued, "how you want her to care for you the same way she was caring for tyler. it's nice— slightly sad —but nice because all of your problems could be fixed if you just told her how you feel."
xavier looked up at you at that. his eyes were clouded with something you couldn't read, his small murmur of, "i don't think that'll work," making you groan in frustration.
"seriously, xavier. just tell her—"
"stop changing the subject, y/n." xavier's voice wasn't firm at all. he didn't even seem irritated with you as he continued to apply pressure to your calf. his voice was soft as he addressed you, only full of worry as he continued to treat you. "why didn't you tell anyone?"
you swallowed thickly. "i didn't want anyone to help me."
xavier didn't say anything. he stood up, exchanging the bloodied cloth with a clean one. he ran it under the water of the sink before sitting back down in front of you and your leg. he gently cleaned it with the wet cloth, choosing his words carefully before he asked, "why?"
your hands clenched and unclenched, showing your obvious nervousness before you replied. "because it makes me feel weak. weaker than i already am."
you expected him to laugh. to tease you for being so sensitive about meaningless acts of service. to poke at you for complaining about being weak when there were other pressing matters to worry about.
but xavier only hummed in response. he grabbed the petroleum jelly as he set the wet cloth down. he waited for a minute for your leg to air dry, taking the moment of silence to speak.
"i'll patch you up quietly, then. whenever you want me to."
he wasn't sure if there was something hidden behind that small promise of his. xavier's eyes pulled away from you as he put petroleum jelly on your wound, his touch so gentle as he spread the ointment. he feared that too much pressure you make you wince again; he didn't want you to worry about that.
but as he said that comment, that small reassuring quote that would have meant nothing if xavier wasn't an overthinker, he wasn't sure what he was promising. the thing is, xavier did overthink. he folded his thoughts over and over a lot in his head, to the point where art was his way of dealing with it all.
that was why a part of him knew that there was a hidden meaning behind that statement that even he couldn't figure out. as he sat on the floor of the bathroom, patching up your leg so tenderly, the words simply felt like more than what it was. more than those two sentences.
and while you never wanted to hold onto a promise, you could only nod in response.
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ACT VI
#AUTHORSNOTE— i feel like this is the longest part i've ever done but oh well! i hope you all enjoyed it and thank you sm for all the support lately it makes me wanna write even more xx
#TAGLIST (usernames that aren't underlined are unable to be tagged) — @gamorxa @rayliz793 @cali-888 @targaryensswp @hopefulfuturenovelauthor @just-amess @maystecc @cmac-writes @ahnneyong @importantpuppyshark @mannstarkey @alienm0vie @carinacassiopeiae @simonsbluee @g3org1al33 @killmewithafanfic @nattheartless13 @astrynyx @idontknowwhattodo35 @addisonnie @wxnderingthoughts @r1dd1kulus @smol-book-nerd @555stargirl555 @wonderlandco @siriuslysmoking @skye231 @boomitsallie1 @southernraven @buckleylips @yunoguns @theprettytragic @levylovegood @slut4fictionalcharacters28 @archernotfound @trixiemills @sucker4angstt @charliedaltonsteponme @wittle-bunnyboo @rowanlaslowsgf @importantpuppyshark @blehhhhdhdhbs @parkersmyth @holachicos @nanamin-pointo @chicken-taco-burrito @manofworm @sincerest-one @lp223344 @alexayoonlee @queer-coded @whore-for-eddie
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wellgoslowly · 10 months
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Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!
Bookstore Girl
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a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.
pairing: lockwood × fem!reader
word count: 3.3k
warnings: none
notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)
tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]
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It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.
“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.
“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.
“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.
“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.
When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.
“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.
“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.
“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.
He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”
“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.
“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.
Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”
“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.
“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.
You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.
“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.
“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.
Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.
“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”
He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.
“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”
Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.
Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.
---
It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.
It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.
You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.
“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.
“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”
Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”
All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.
---
It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.
You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.
Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.
Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.
---
“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.
“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.
“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.
“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.
“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.
“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.
Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.
After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.
“I'd love to.”
eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)
I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah
xoxo linnie <3
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mimssides · 2 years
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Hey Eir! How about Logince for the ship ask game? <3
Who said “I love you” first Roman. Look, passion bubbles in his chest and his nerd is falling in love with him. He has to profess his love to him!
Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background They are both saps and have the picture of the other as background. Or maybe even matching ones with Logan reasoning that it is "only logical" and Roman totally supporting his boyfriend's logical thinking.
Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror Roman. Logan thinks it's cute but sometimes gets annoyed at the smudges. but when Ro has a rough time, Logan might just draw a little heart on the mirror and it always manages to cheer Roman up.
Who buys the other cheesy gifts Logan. He's bad at love languages but also has the instincts of a magpie and knows "cheesy glitter things make Roman go brrr". Man has never bought roses but there are about twenty cat heart figurines in Roman's shelf designated for sappy gifts from his boyfriend.
Who initiated the first kiss Mutual effort. Just a look and both started to lean in. It was one of the few moments they just agreed on what to do next. Really they still often kiss like that.
Who kisses the other awake in the morning Roman kisses Logan awake. Both of them don't sleep a lot but Logan has the tendency to stay a little longer in bed when he has nothing scheduled. So when that occurs, Roman might get up first, make some coffee, prepare some breakfast, and goes back to bed to kiss his beloved awake. Logan does enjoy the pampering.
Who starts tickle fights Roman. Though Logan always wins and he still believes that one day he will end up the winner. He won't😌
Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower Roman. When he has a high need for affection he will ask for them to shower together. Usually, Logan complies since he understands that Roman needs some extra care. Also, sometimes it's nice to have cuddly (or a little horny) prince in the shower with you.
Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch Roman started it but they regularly show up at the other's workspace just as a surprise. At Logan's workplace though nobody knows that Roman is Logan's boyfriend because Roman keeps it down a lot whereas everyone at Roman's workplace is very aware of their relationship because the first thing Logan did when he visits Roman is kiss him straight on the lips.
Who was nervous and shy on the first date Neither. Their first official date was on a dare and they bickered and tried to outdo the other the whole time only to realise at the end that they had a great time together. They were both a little timid on the second date though.
Who kills/takes out the spiders Roman. Let him be the brave hero he wants to be. Logan is very deadpan about being saved from the foul beasts but he lets him do it.
Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk Logan. Roman is just whiny and clingy when drunk but Logan goes out of his way to loudly present Roman to everybody around them and says how beautiful and attractive he is, and how he is the best kisser, and that he loves him so very much.
Aah. I love them so much. Such good boys.
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nadiestar · 2 years
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💙
❤️
You know what? I forgot that I had an ask game open. Hello anon, thank you for being my acquaintance
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jordanstrophe · 10 months
Note
What about mentally wrecked Whumpee and determined Caretaker? Maybe in the hospital setting?😳
CW: Collapse and comfort, confusion, fever, hurt/comfort
The white walls were too familiar. There was even a crack on the wall that looked just like the one in the room whumper held whumpee in.
They hated it. They couldn't stop staring at it.
Finally, they decided they weren't going to.
They swung their legs over the bed, the floor was freezing but they didn't care. They were drowning in their thoughts and needed to do something to get them out.
They struggled to the hallway using the walls for support. It felt like they were treading water, being barely able to pick their feet off the ground.
Their vision warped and they staggered to the other wall trying to keep upright with it. They didn't feel the hall turn the corner and they slipped off, slamming to the floor.
"HEY!" A voice cried, followed by footsteps getting louder by the step. "Why are you out of bed!?" Caretaker skidded to the ground and picked them off the floor into their lap. Whumpee felt like they had been shocked as they curled up against their chest. They gripped their collar like a tether to reality and squeezed their eyes shut.
"I c-can't see anything ri-ight and the crack is still th-th-eir and I can't br-breath a-and-" Whumpee sobbed as caretaker shushed them, holding out their hand to nurses who were about to rush to their side. Caretaker mouthed "it's okay" and "I've got them" before scooping them off the floor and carrying them to their room.
They laid them to bed as whumpee sobbed into their pillow. Caretaker scooted the table over a yard and moved a vase of flowers over the crack. "Is that better?" Caretaker asked, returning to their side and smoothing their hair as whumpee sniffed and nodded.
That was too much of a scare for caretaker to even think about leaving their bedside again. Until it was time to return home, caretaker slept on the couch near the window and kept them distracted by reading cards and letters people had sent them.
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loregoddess · 22 days
Text
okay one of my all-time favorite fanarts for the first Octopath game were these doodles of the travelers sleeping, and it made me want to make art of the Octo2 travelers sleeping but I don't have a lot of energy for art lately so I don't think that'll happen, however I was still inspired to come up with a whole bunch of headcanons about the sleeping habits of the Octo2 travelers, sooo...I wrote them instead. Cheers. (some story spoilers)
Ochette Ochette has official art showing her sleeping, so we know she sleeps curled in a tight little ball (although she probably repositions herself in her sleep), but I also think she nests. Like, all the time. Staying at an inn? Ochette turns those blankets into a nest and curls up in them. Camping? no need for a sleeping bag (unless it's cold) she'll just tamp down some grass and make a nest. Will also nest in trees by rearranging the branches and leaves. Nests in Osvald's hair on occasion.
Also I think Ochette's a huge cuddler. She's usually cuddled with Akala or Mahina, but once she gets to know the other travelers better and figures out their personal boundaries, she'll cuddle anyone who's okay with it (probably usually Agnea and Castti. Throne wants to cuddle Ochette so badly but refuses to ask...Ochette eventually figures it out though. Osvald swears he doesn't know anything about Ochette making nests of his hair or snuggling into his coat during cold nights, but everyone knows he has the soul of a loving father. One time Ochette fell asleep leaning against Hikari and he was afraid to move at all for the rest of the night).
Follows something of a crepuscular sleeping schedule, so Ochette's most active at dawn and dusk, naps in the middle of the day, and sleeps through most of the night (although she's skilled at night hunting and can stay up most of the night if need be). Ochette can technically stay awake for a couple of days at a time if she's taking breaks and short rests, since it's useful for tracking and stalking prey over longer distances, but doesn't prefer this type of a hunt. Can also technically follow a "typical diurnal human" sleeping schedule, but Ochette thinks it's stupid. Would love siestas if they existed in Solistia.
Overall quick to fall asleep, quick to wake up. Only feels groggy if it's cold or the weather's bad, as she'd prefer to continue sleeping snuggled up in her warm nest.
Castti Castti can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any position, but mostly because she does not have any sort of healthy sleeping habits or regular sleeping schedule. Terrible, terrible habit of just staying awake to help patients and then passing out as soon as she gets a brief break in her work (her sleeping at a table in her ending card artwork attests to this). She was better about getting proper sleep when she was with Eir's Apothecaries and could share the work, and the other travelers are good at nagging her to get to sleep, but Castti doesn't really hold her own sleep health to the same standards she'll expect of her patients (she is, canonically, a bit reckless about her own health, re: Osvald telling to her to take better care of herself in that one travel banter). Snores if she's gone too long without sleeping, and won't stop until she's gotten at least two hours of sleep.
Not a really deep sleeper, but not a light sleeper either. Castti has the ability to sort of sense when someone around her needs medical help, and wakes up accordingly to help them. If no one's in trouble though she could sleep through a hailstorm on a tin roof. Because she doesn't follow any fixed sleeping schedule, her body's innate sleeping cycles are a bit wonky, but if Castti allowed herself to return to a "normal" sleeping schedule she'd be the sort of person who was up before the sun rose, and be in bed as soon as the sun set.
Throne Throne is the lightest sleeper in the group. A mouse scampering across the inn floor could wake her. Always sleeps on her side with a dagger in hand. If she's at an inn, she chooses whichever bed is against a wall or in a corner with no windows, so that nothing can sneak up behind her as she sleeps, and sleeps facing out towards the rest of the room. If she's camping then she either chooses a location where she can't easily be ambushed (under an overhanging boulder/cliff, against a large tree), or begrudgingly sleeps on her back so she can survey the area around her. Once she's more comfortable with the other travelers, she's willing to treat them as "walls" that she can safely have her back to, but overall being raised by a syndicate of assassins made her an extremely cautious sleeper.
Given the nature of her work, Throne's mostly nocturnal, opting to sleep through the day, and be awake all night long. However, some jobs required more flexibility, so Throne also learned to just sort of be up whenever she needed to be up, and sleep whenever she could. If left to her own devices though she prefers to sleep through the day. Very quick to wake up, but also doesn't have too much trouble getting to sleep either.
Osvald Before prison Osvald was probably the sort of person to stay up late into the night as he pursued his research, and sleep in late during the morning. A very deep sleeper as well, although he did acquire the parental "oh shit, my kid needs me time to be fully awake" instinct when Elena was a baby that never really went away as she got older (Castti recruited Osvald to help her nurse the others when they get sick because he started having the parental "oh shit" reaction to the other travelers as well). If he needed to be up early for some sort of scholarly conference or to teach classes or something, then Rita was the one to get him up in a timely manner (she was more of a morning person), which was good because Osvald would take 1-2 hours just to fully wake up (very serious coffee person).
Osvald's time in prison changed him however, and between the cold and needing to survey everyone and everything in the prison, he stopped sleeping through the night and would sleep in short bursts instead. Like Throne, he became a very cautious sleeper, making sure his back was to a wall while he remained hyper-vigilant of his surroundings. Whatever his sleep schedule might have been didn't matter since he had to abide by the prison's work schedules. Being passed out as he washed up on the shores of Cape Cold was the first long "sleep" Osvald had in five years.
After escaping, he's sort of in a weird in-between state where part of his mind still thinks he's in constant danger and wants to continue being stressed and vigilant, and another part that realizes he's safe now and wants to finally get some rest. As a result Osvald's sleeping habits are...haphazard during his travels. Sometimes he manages to sleep just fine, sometimes he's restless, sometimes he'll be up for two days straight claiming he can't sleep. One time Castti offered him some sleeping medicine and he slept for almost an entire day. He doesn't stop being vigilant, although he's not quite as cautious as Throne (no weapons on hand), but this mostly just results in him knowing everyone else's sleeping habits and troubles. Partway through the travels, Osvald does ease up a bit as he's able to accept he's not in constant danger, and as he comes to trust the others more he begins to relax enough to start recovering his old sleeping habits.
Eventually, he is able to recover most of his sleeping habits, staying up late researching, and sleeping in late (unfortunately Clarissa and Elena have the same sleep schedule, so if they all need to be somewhere early chances are they're going to be collectively late). Osvald never does quite shake some of the habits picked up from prison though, and doesn't sleep as deeply as he once did.
Partitio Partitio doesn't sleep in any really odd positions, although he does rotisserie chicken through the night, turning from one side to his back to his other side to his stomach and back to his side, all without really waking up. Snores like a motor if he's on his back, but if one of the other travelers kicks him or tosses something at him, he'll turn over and stop snoring (won't remember this in the morning). Sleeps extremely deeply as well, and can sleep through almost anything. Coughing wakes Partitio up immediately though, because of the time he spent nursing his father's poor health--this in turn makes him a great nurse if any of the other travelers fall sick, and Castti was pretty quick to recruit him to being her aide as well.
Growing up working in mines meant Partitio was pretty tired come night, and would just pass out. He's a natural morning person, and typically follows a very regular "wake up with the rising sun, go to sleep with the starlight" schedule. Only oversleeps if he partied too hard late into the night, or else had to stay up all night for some reason.
Agnea Tosses and turns the most through the night. Not out of discomfort, Agnea just, doesn't really stay still when she sleeps, and sleeps in the strangest positions as well when she isn't moving around. At an inn the bed's covers will be an absolute mess when she gets up, and her sleeping bag ends up cocooned around her in ways the other travelers didn't think possible. Worst bedhead as well, it takes her a good half hour to get her hair brushed out sometimes. Which is fine because it usually takes her a bit to fully wake up in the morning (although if she's excited about something, Agnea can get up and be ready to go in ten minutes flat).
Also a bit of a sleep-talker, but the sort of "nonsense" sleep talk that almost seems to make sense but doesn't. The other travelers have held entire nonsense conversations with Agnea as she sleeps. She of course, does not have any memory of these conversations when she wakes up, nor do any of her dreams match the content of the conversations recounted to her. Agnea was a bit embarrassed by this at first, until she realized the others weren't teasing her to be mean, but because her nightly chatter was truly amusing in an endearing sort of way.
Prefers to sleep late into the morning/early afternoon and stay up into the night, since it fits her schedule as a dancer better. However, Angea also has one of those internal alarm clocks, so if she needs to get up early in the morning, she just tells herself at what time to wake up and then she does. Absolute envy of Pala, who does not have an internal alarm clock. Very useful when she's travelling though, since she can make sure all the other travelers are up on time if she needs too. Also, given the size of Solistia I'm assuming there's like, major time zone differences, but I feel like Agnea would be one of those people who almost never suffers from jetlag (partly bc the means to travel across the time zones quickly enough doesn't yet exist, but also because she just has a naturally good internal sense of time and adjusts to the times the sun rises and sets pretty quickly).
Temenos Temenos looks like he sleeps peacefully. On his back, hands folded over his chest, perfectly still, no matter if he's in a bed at an inn, or a sleeping bag while camping. The truth is it takes him 1-3 hours to actually fall asleep, and he's just pretending to sleep while he tries to get thoughts about whatever case (or general stress thoughts) out of his mind. Ochette, Throne, and Osvald have figured this out, since Temenos's breathing isn't actually steady until he's fallen asleep (Ochette has good ears, Throne's used to keeping a close eye on those around here, and Osvald also got good at monitoring his cellmates and the prison guards, which carried over to his traveling companions). Once he is asleep though, Temenos sleeps fairly deeply.
He's also had these issues getting to sleep since forever. When Temenos was really young, Jorg would read him stories from the scriptures, and once Temenos learned to read he'd stay up late reading and rereading these stories in hopes that the tedious language would bore him to sleep. This is at least part of the reason why he's memorized almost all the stories in the scriptures, even if he can't remember the details exactly. Sometimes if he knows he's not going to get to sleep easily, he'll still read, although he's expanded his reading list to just about every genre, and usually always has some sort of book on hand as a result.
Because he remains in the same position all night, Temenos wakes up stiff and needs to stretch to loosen his muscles. However, when he has nightmares he tends to toss and turn a bit, and then just wakes up achy from having slept in an odd position. Night owl by nature, feels most awake in the evening and early night, and would sleep half the day except his duties as inquisitor and cleric require Temenos to get up early (which he uses an alarm clock for, maybe? I mean, mechanical clocks do exist in Solistia, so...). Wakes up fairly quickly, but is always a little tired throughout the day.
Hikari Hikari tends to sleep mostly on his side, and also keeps a weapon nearby (he did grow up participating in a concerning number of wars and battles). He prefers to get up early and go to bed early, but given the need for flexibility on a battlefield, can and has stayed up through the night and slept part of the day with little consequence. Hikari's also an incredibly quiet and still sleeper, rarely repositioning except to sometimes roll onto his back.
He is also a deceptively peaceful-looking sleeper. Hikari's issue is less that he can't get to sleep easily, and more that he's afraid of the Shadow overtaking him somehow while he sleeps, a fear that was especially prevalent when he was in active warzones. Without anyone he could really discuss this with, Hikari had to figure out how to get to sleep on his own, and eventually settled for meditating before he planned to sleep. During his meditation he focuses on suppressing the Shadow the same way he's able to suppress it when he's awake, and specifically visualizes locking the Shadow away for the duration of his sleep. This meditation tactic, once Hikari refined it, did help him sleep with lessened fear of the Shadow overtaking him. It didn't stop him from occasionally having nightmares about the Shadow though, which eventually led to Hikari figuring out how to lucid dream so he could get the Shadow out of his dreams as well.
All this means that, so long as Hikari has adequate time to set up, he's able to meditate and then simply lay down and go to sleep. Unfortunately, it also means that he will refuse to sleep if he does not have adequate time to properly mediate, and has on occasion just...stayed awake for a concerning amount of time. Hikari's so earnest and polite about insisting he simply can't sleep though that the other travelers have a hard time arguing with him in these rare instances where he refuses to sleep. When, on occasion, he ends up knocked out from a battle (or getting zapped off a bridge), and doesn't have control over passing out, Hikari actually does fine, since his subconscious kicks in to keep him safe from the Shadow, but this doesn't stop him from practicing his disciplined sleep ritual.
Hikari doesn't ever truly stop his meditation before sleeping after the events of his story, but he stops forcing himself to stay awake out of fear if he can't meditate, much to the relief of his friends and retainers. It's less that Hikari no longer fears the Shadow, and more that he believes in his own strength to keep it out of his mind entirely. At that point, Hikari actually sleeps just as peacefully as he looks while sleeping.
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hermitcraft-8 · 2 months
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Joel didn’t know.
They all realized that roughly at the same time at the preseason cookout. Grift was fronting, and Joel called him ‘Zed,’ and immediately everyone slowed to a halt until no one was talking. Joel looked up, confused, and Grift immediately laughed it off and told some joke and everyone went back to what they were doing.
Later, Skizz, Impulse and Tango cornered Grift to ask him how he wanted to go about this.
“I don’t care, man,” Grift said, waving his hands vigorously as he always did. “Just don’t make it weird.”
“Us, make it weird? Come on, budday!” Skizz chortled, trying to lean against a tree and missing. “We would never!”
Grift winced. “On second thought, I’ll handle it.”
Grift did not handle it. They watched from afar as he marched up to Joel, opened his mouth, and immediately switched. Joel frowned as he watched their face go loose, and then watched them blink, frown, turn on their heel and march back to Skizz, Impulses and Tango.
“What’s up?” Sadie asked them, curiously. “I’m out of the loop.”
“Joel’s a new member who’s never met you guys,” Impulse said, wearily. “You have to explain to him that you’re a system. Grift wanted us to stay out of it.”
“Oh. Aye, I can do that.”
“Go do it then.”
Sadie paused, turning to look at Joel, who was still staring at them, before turning back to the gang. “I’m going to get Worm on this.”
Worm was thrilled to be contacted, and immediately started to giggle and hop from foot to foot. “So does he know that Ren is plural?”
“I think so, he was there for 3rd life,” Tango said, thoughtfully. “So he’s at least accepting of it.”
“Good, good, good.” Worm stroked eir imaginary beard. “I can work with this.”
“Go get ‘em chief.” Skizz gave em two thumbs up, which ey returned, before spinning and confidently marching up to Joel.
“Hello,” Ey said, sticking out a hand. “Joel, right? What do you know about plural systems?”
“What?” Joel blinked. “What are you on about?”
“My name is Worm. May I sit down?”
The other three exchanged tired, knowing glances. This was going to be rough.
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