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dp-marvel94 · 5 months

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Seafoam Sky -Chapter 2

Summary: Danny has dreamed of glowing lights for as long as he can remember. When he almost dies pursuing them, an unknown powerful entity saves him. Now the entity is calling him too, though Danny can’t tell if it’s for good or for ill. He hopes the memories and dreams of being lovingly cradled under the stars are real. But with his parents’ stories about wind spirits that lure mer to the surface and steal their souls… how can he trust his mysterious savior?

Word Count: 6,603

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The next morning, Danny arrived early at Tucker’s house. The note and his… the feather sequestered safely in his bag, over his shoulder. Waking up, he’d half-thought all of it had been a dream. But that parchment still hung above his hammock.

He had dug through his chest, hoping, praying that the thing wouldn’t be there… and that it still was. His fingers meet alienly familiar softness. Relief and dread warred in his gut. That damned feather….

Now, both mer-boys sat in Tucker’s room in silence, anxiously waiting for Sam to arrive.

The purple-tail stormed in, frothy and violent as tempest-tossed waves. “You said we’d talk later.” Hands on her hips, her tail lashed. “Talk.”

Danny swallowed. “Alright. I guess…. So first… uh…” He talked, the words heavy and difficult. They fought, his mind struggling to put sound to what he’d seen, what he’d experienced….

“I…I think I died. Or I almost died. But… something saved me….” The lights, the sound, the… size. “It was huge. Bigger than….” His eyes wide, mouth dry. “Bigger than the sky. It blotted out the surface. All I could see was the feathers.”

“What are feathers?” Tucker asked, arms wrapped around his chest.

Carefully, Danny pulled the feather out of his bag. “This.”

Hesitantly, Sam took the object, turning it this way and that. Her eyes widened. “The white things around you when you re-appeared…. It was these. But…” She turned to him. “How do you have this?”

“I found it after you guys left…” Danny hesitated. “in my shirt.”

Both friends’ brows wrinkled, confused, skeptical. Sam opened her mouth, question visible on her lips.

But Danny hurried on. “The….” creature was the wrong word. Too lowly, too… demeaning. “The entity spoke to me. It…” Also wrong, his heart knew. “He said he could save me, wanted to save me. So I said yes and-”

“You said yes?!” Tucker practically yelled, then winced at the volume, quieting. “To the monster, wind spirit thing.”

Danny shrunk back. “Yes. I… I didn’t want to die. And…” The memory of great wings tenderly embracing him in warmth and safety. His traitorous heart throbbed. “He did save me. He brought me back to you guys and I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

But was it? Finding the feather in his shirt. The hauntingly beautiful, disturbingly real dream. Waking up with his tail aching, every flutter of his gills feeling wrong. The recurrent itch between his shoulder blades.

Just then, he jolted, shoulders rolling. The phantom weight of limbs on his back, water-logged feathers…. Danny braced his hands on his lap as joy leapt. His wings were alright. They were still there.

Then his mind revolted. Dread, a terrible sense of wrongness, screamed to be heard.

Sam’s steadying hand appeared on his arm. “What is it?”

Danny turned his head, meeting her eyes. They were wide with concern, almost… scared. He swallowed, throat thick like it was suddenly blocked by stones. How could he explain any of this? The ghostly wings. The feather that couldn’t be, that definitely was his. The note…

“The feather wasn’t the only thing.” Shakily, Danny pulled out the note. “I found this after I woke up.”

He passed it to Tucker. The red-capped mer took it, pinching it between his fingers as if it was diseased. But slowly, tensely he began to read aloud.

Slowly, the knot of tension inside the blue-tailed mer loosened. He uncurled, muscles relaxing with every soothing syllable.

Yet at the same time…. his friends’ faces grew more pale, more disturbed. As soon as he finished reading, Tucker dropped the piece of parchment, shoving it away as violently as a bloody bandage. “That’s so creepy! What the hell!”

Sam’s eyes blazed with fury. “What does that… that monster think it is?”

Danny’s burgeoning smile dissolved. “Not a monster.” He muttered into his tail, curling in on himself again.

“It’s some kind of creepy wind spirit thing, that ‘saved you’” Tucker quoted with his fingers, the sarcasm so strong it was palpable. “And got possessive.”

“You don’t know he’s a wind spirit.” Danny crossed his arms.

“You heard what your dad said.” Sam argued. “They lure you with their songs and blind you.”

“We saw!” His other friend waved his hands. “When you re-appeared. There was the light and the singing.” Frantically, he pointed at the crumpled note. “Now it’s trying to lure you to the surface and steal your soul!”

The blue-tail shook his head, gritting his teeth. “That’s ridiculous. The Spirit doesn’t want to steal my soul.”

“Then why did it save you?” Sam asked pointedly.

The question knocked the breath from Danny’s body. “I… I don’t…”

The purple-tail crossed her arms pointedly. “No one does things for free. Not out of the goodness of their heart. It wants something.”

The previous lightness, the confidence drained, as if it was blood dripping from a wound. “No, you’re wrong. It… he doesn’t…” Danny tried to argue, not even believing his own words.

But his stomach churned, sour bile rising in his throat. The Voice had mentioned a price, a sacrifice, something surrendered. And…terror clawed at his throat. He didn’t know what that price was. He hadn’t even bothered to ask. It could be anything. Even his soul….

His friends must have read the fear on his face, each’s expression softening.

“You’re going to be okay, Danny.” Sam took his hand, gripping it reassuringly. “We’ll figure something out.”

“We’ve got you, dude.” Tucker offered a smile, wrapping an arm around him. “And hey, the good thing is, it looks like the thing can’t just drag you to the surface itself. It somehow left that note in your room but it didn’t mess with you at all.”

“Yeah.” The mer-girl nodded eagerly. “It sounds like it wants to lure you into going by yourself. So if you stay away from the surface, you should be fine.”

“The surface is dangerous anyway!” The yellow-tail cut in. “You’ll turn into sea foam. Maybe that’s what it wants. You go up there, die and turn into seafoam, and it steals your soul after.”

“Tucker!” Sam reprimanded as Danny grimaced, the grizzly imagining flashing through his head.

“That would be… be horrible.” The blue-tail shivered.

Still, his friends on either side of him offered comfort. “That’s not going to happen. You’re going to stay down here, where it’s safe.” Sam said.

Danny nodded. But still…. A part of him doubted, a part of him dared to hope. The feeling of safety, the tender embrace, the words of affection… those couldn’t all be fake, right? They felt too real. They couldn’t be a trick. He desperately didn’t want them to be a trick….

“Let’s just be grateful you’re okay.” Tucker hugged him, Sam joining

The mer-boy shakily reciprocated. His insides warred.

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

The stars shone above, his Abba’s wings around him. Familiar red eyes, a scar over one met his and softened. And the other’s Voice…. Grand and sweeping, the wind over the sea. But at the same time… close and tender.

“Look here, child. Up.” A hand guiding his chin. “That is the North Star, Polaris.” A blue finger pointing. “And this one-”

Darkness surged in. Thunder, the crashing of waves drown out the words. Clawed vacuum ripped him away.

Danny’s back hit something hard. He couldn’t see. Blackness stole the light. The boy flailed, wings melting away. His scales pricked as they returned but… dry. No water. His skin itched.

His heart pounded. What happened? Where was his A-

A blinking flash. Light flooded the world and his soul flooded with hope.

His rescuer loomed above, sky-wide wings blocking the stars. But…

A twisting sense of wrong. Luminous feathers didn’t shine; they burned. The fire licked at Danny’s body.

The boy screamed, reaching up. “Help me!”

Pain! A thousand needles through his skin. His flank jerked violently, the crunch of bones breaking.

“Help!” A choked cry.

Sound swirled, great and terrible. Loud enough to crack the very stone under him.

Another crunch, a fizzling pop. His fingers…. He couldn’t feel them. Eyes jerked to the side. Horror. His… his hand was gone, tiny white bubbles in their place.

Sea foam. He was turning into sea foam.

“Please!” Danny panted, body trembling.

But the foam ate him away. He screamed, he cried. But a million eyes turned away from him, uncaring.

He was really dying. Popping, hissing, fizzing. Agony ripping through his muscles. His arms, his shoulders. His dorsal fin, his flank, his hips… All quickly dissolved. Gone in a flash.

One last plea. One cry. For water, for life, for rescue.

But the being… it ignored him. The Voice of the wind did not save. It condemned.

Danny’s body fizzled away and his soul burned.

The mer-boy jerked awake, falling out of his hammock. Heavily, he hit the smooth stone. A surge of panic. His eyes popped open.

“Oh.” Tension eased; it was just a dream.

His heart twisted. He was safe, in his room. Not on the surface, not burning up, not fizzing away. It was just a dream. But… the uncaring eyes, the cruel voice. Hurt and betrayal flickered.

Angrily, Danny pushed himself off the floor. “What do you want from me?” He harshly whispered at the ceiling. “You know what? I don’t care.” Eyes narrowed and scowling, he stormed across the room.

Tearing open his bag, he pulled out the glowing letter. “I don’t care. I’m not falling for it.” Violently, he ripped the paper. “Whatever cruel trick this is..” In half…. “Making me think I was safe…” In fourths. “That you… you cared…” His voice quivered, with anger, hurt.

Danny shook his head violently. “I’m not falling for it.” Agonizing tearing sounds cut through the water. “You can’t… You can’t trick me.”

It should have been satisfying, cathartic. But… Danny’s hands shook as he released the ravaged remains. He stared down, watching the pieces’ glow flicker and die. It felt like not the letter but his heart had been the thing shredded.

The boy crawled back into his hammock. His aching chest drawn to the bend in his tail, the darkness swallowed him.

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

Things would go on as normal, Danny told himself in the morning. He would go to school, hang out with his friends, annoy his older sister. His parents would rant about wind spirits, which didn’t exist, and he would roll his eyes. And he wouldn’t think about what happened.

He wouldn’t think about the stars above, the glowing feathers, or the Voice of a parent who actually loved-

No.

Danny violently shoved the thought away. No. He was not going to think about those things. He wouldn’t fall for a stupid trap. Everything would be normal. He’d go on as usual and everything would be fine.

With forced confidence, the mer-boy straightened. He swam out of his room and down the shaft, into the lower part of their dwelling.

This morning, his parents hovered over the table, fiddling with a collection of shiny and oddly shaped rocks. “Lure… conduit?.... spirit….” Nonsensical mutters occupied the two.

His heart sank. “Good morning.” Danny greeted, trying to force the confidence back on his face.

But no reply came. And this time…. The boy barely managed the resolve to be annoyed. His parents completely ignored him, of course. Like they always did.

With a roll of his eyes, Danny swam to the pantry. He opened it, brow furrowing. What to eat for breakfast…

For several moments, he shuffled around the cabinet, picking up and inspecting different objects. Half-crusted shells, twisted pieces of metal, random rocks and crystals – all objects of his parents’ study and experimentation – sat inside, among the jars and baskets holding their food. Danny poked a suspicious glob of slime. That definitely should not be near anything edible.

A tingle started in his fingers, swirling up through his hand. His nose wrinkled, shaking the slime away. Great, now it was doing something weird to his hand.

The feeling spread and intensified, an odd warmth mixed with the feeling of a limb falling asleep. Annoyance rising into fear, he reached for the jar of scrubbing sand on the counter. He had to get this slim off him. Now!

The water stirred suddenly and Danny looked to the side. It was his sister! Back from her trip last night; he’d completely forgotten. He reached out, wide eyes pleading for her help.

But Jazz’s gaze flitted over the room, unseeing of his distress. “Did Danny leave already? He wasn’t in his room.”

The mer-boy’s heart dropped. “Jazz! I’m right… here?” His voice lowered, the pins and needles in his body forgotten. His voice… something was wrong, an eerie echo he could almost place.

His sister didn’t acknowledge the sound. Instead, she crossed her arms, scowling at their parents. “Mom? Dad? Didn’t you hear me? Where’s Danny?”

Danny opened his mouth, struggling to try again. Distantly, the tingling gave way to nothingness. The jar of sand dropped through his fingers.

The other three mers startled at the noise, his parents dropping their instruments while Jazz flinched back.

Solidity rushed back, his limbs more present than ever. Numbly, he stared at the shattered container.

His sister’s eyes flitted to him. “Danny? How did you get there?” She shook her head. “Are you ready for school? We need to get going.”

Danny’s head jerked up, mouth opened dumbly. “I haven’t even eaten yet.” Of all the things to say…

“We’ll get food on the way.” Jazz practically dragged him out the door.

“Aren’t you going to clean that up?” Their mother called sternly after, only to be ignored.

Almost as soon as they were passed the threshold, the questions started. “Mom and Dad said they had to carry you back from the ravine unconscious on Saturday. What happened?”

The boy winced, mind still spinning. “It was nothing, just swam a little too deep.”

“Swam a little too deep? Come on, you know better than…”

His sister poked and prodded. She hovered and worried…. And she complained.

“Our parents found some weird shiny rocks near where they found you. And now they’re convinced a wind spirit almost got you.” The tip of her teal flank flickered with annoyance. “They’re more worried about the imaginary monster than the actual real rapid shark that chased you down there. I can’t believe them…”

This was familiar, almost comfortable, Jazz complaining about their parents. Part of him wanted to join her, agreeing. It had barely been a day and they’d already forgotten about him almost dying, fixating on their obsession with spirits.

But at the same time… his heart pounded uneasily. Those glowing wings, the alluring voice. A wind spirit had saved him. No, not saved. It had bargained, tricked him. It wanted to trap him. But… doubt stabbed him. What if his friends were wrong-

“Danny, are you alright? You suddenly got quiet.”

The boy shook his head, dismissing the thought. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” His sister’s eyes shone with concern.

He could tell her. About all this confusion, whatever just happened in the kitchen, feeling torn in two. A wind spirit had saved him, or it was trying to kill him. She could help. But…

Annoyance at himself flared at the idea. Yeah sure, he could tell her that wind spirits, the things their crazy parents had been obsessing over since before they were born, were real. She wouldn’t believe him, not his overly practical sister. Or worse… she’d tell his parents about his ‘delusion’ and he'd never hear the end of it from them.

No. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Danny forced a smile, swimming on.

“Alright.” After some distance, Jazz seemed to believe him. She continued to talk, conversation moving onto other things. They stopped for sandwiches from Nasty Barnacle and Danny barely listened.

But his mind spun. This morning… the weird tingling after touching that slime. The distant, far away feeling of his limbs. The jar had fallen through his fingers as if... they were incapable of holding on. Somehow Jazz hadn’t seen him. He’d just been floating in front of the cabinet, nothing blocking the view of him. When he’d tried to talk, the words didn’t come out right. His voice had echoed oddly, almost… musical. Like-

Phantom wings twitched. Danny closed his eyes, forcing the feeling down.

No. It was nothing. Just his parents’ weird slime. It made his fingers numb, made him lose hold of the jar. And… Jazz was just distracted. She was tired after getting home last. This wasn’t… this had nothing to do with… that, with Him.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

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

Danny sprinted through the rocky cavern system where the mers held their school.

“Come back here, Fen-slug!” Dash yelled after him. “You can’t get out of your daily beating just ‘cause a ‘wind spirit’ tried to off you!”

Danny grit his teeth. Great. His parents had apparently told the whole town.

He darted around a corner. Shot! A dead end. Maybe he could squeeze between the rocks and hide while Dash ran past.

“Fenturd!” The bully roared.

A familiar tingling warmth swelling in his chest, the boy packed himself between the rocks. He held his breath, watching out of the corner of his eye. Please let Dash keep going.

Shit.

“You’re hiding like a sissy.” The bigger mer turned into the corridor. His eyes flitted over the rocks, landing on Danny’s hiding spot.

The blue-tail tensed, sure he’d been caught.

But his bully’s mouth opened dumbly. “I was sure I saw him coming this way.” He turned, storming off. “That turd!”

For a long moment, Danny remained frozen, listening to Dash’s retreat. Finally he let out a breath.

Or… he tried to. The impulse came, his mind telling him to exhale. But the sensation didn’t follow, no comforting flutter of water through his gills.

Panic rose, pounding his heart. Except it wasn’t pounding. His hands should be shaking. But…

The immaterial idea of raising a hand to his face. Nothing. There was nothing. His hand was gone, dissolved. Like his nightmare…

Wait. No. That wasn’t… He was still here, still aware so he couldn’t have dissolved.

The water swirling around him, through him. His limbs were distant, unfeeling. More of an idea than a thing. Like he would break apart without focus. Like a stray thought would distract and….

But he was here. He was still here. He ebbed and flowed gently, with the current flowing through the cavern. Every molecule of water touched every molecule of him.

The fear calmed slowly into something serene. He spread ever so slightly, feeling the rocks in this little section of the cave. Every imperfection and crack and the tiny spaces between them.

Then, with something like a breath, Danny coalesced. The impression of his hand swelled into being, his almost- imaginary fingers flexing.

The water wavered. It shimmered, distorted like the transparent top of a jellyfish. Sparkingly like sunlight through clear water.

Danny lifted the impression of his other hand. The same image wavered into focus. And slowly…

His head, his torso, his tail. Distant particles converged, the outline of his re-becoming form shimmering in the water.

A few more fluttering breaths, each other more solid, more real. Finally, his body reappeared.

For a long time, Danny stared down at his own body. He had started to come apart. The parts of his separating, drifting away. And yet… he hadn’t died. He’d become immaterial. Incorporeal. Transparent. See-through. Invisible. Like…

The wind, blowing above the ocean. The Spirit of the wind and stars. His Abba.

No. The boy sternly rejected the word. No. No. No. Nope. Not happening. He wasn’t going there.

Whatever that was…. It wasn’t that. He wasn’t a… wasn’t a spirit. He wasn’t like that thing. He wasn’t like Him.

Even as the thought of being like his rescuer made his heart sing-

No. This was just more weirdness. Weirdness would go away. It would. It had to.

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

“Ah, Mr. Fenton, you finally made it.” Danny’s literature teacher, Mr. Lancer, greeted frostily, voice tinged with annoyance.

With his head fixed down, the boy drifted to his seat.

Sam and Tucker on either side of him fixed him with odd, concerned looks. Danny ignored them, shoulders rising.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

The lecture his entrance had interrupted continued and the boy pulled out his slate and pencil. He bit his lip, focused on the writing material. He’d just focus on the lesson, not think about-

“Are you okay?” His yellow-tailed friend whispered to him.

Danny’s grip on his pencil tightened. Apparently, his friends were not to be ignored.

“Fine.” He muttered, offering a quick glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

Still, his fingers shook slightly, a suspicious tingling entering. Oh no.

“Are you sure?” Sam poked from the other side.

His fingers wavered, airy and indistinct. They wafted out of solidity…

“I’m fine.” The boy hissed.

And his pencil fell through his fingers, plopping to the floor.

Mr. Lancer paused, glaring daggers at Danny. “Is there a problem Mr Fenton? Ms. Manson? Mr. Foley?”

“No, sir.” The blue-tail shrunk back, shoving his incorporeal hand behind his back.

“Good. Then let’s reserve extra curricular conversation for after school.”

Obediently, Danny nodded. The teacher turned away, returning to the lesson.

The boy couldn’t help but release a breath as his hand returned to existence. After class though…

“Wait up, Danny! What happened before Lancer’s class?” Sam called after him.

“Yeah. Where were you?” Tucker added.

“Nothing. Just Dash.” The blue-tail stuffed his things in his bag. He chuckled sheepishly. “Gotta go. Grounded and all. Mom and Dad will freak if I’m late.”

He practically sprinted out of the room.

He was a coward. He couldn’t talk to Sam and Tucker. He couldn’t. Not when he was cursed, a freak slowly turning into… something.

He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t face it. He couldn’t. But…

No. This was too much to push on his friends. They wouldn't understand. He couldn’t explain it to them, make them deal with it.

He couldn’t do this.

“Hey!”

Danny ignored the cry. He couldn’t.

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

The wind streamed around Danny. Above and below. Within and without. It ruffled his hair, bolstering him higher.

“Wooh!” A shout of joy.

He twirled and spun. Light as the air around him. Free.

Higher! Muscles in his back twitched and flexed. He rose.

Up and up. Farther. Higher. The stars grew closer and closer, brighter.

A stray cloud drifted across, moonlight streaming through it. Danny turned, flipping on his back. He lifted his hands, laughing as they glided through the cool, misty wetness.

With another laugh, the boy righted himself. He hovered, full moon hung majestically in front of him. He bobbed in the air, its currents swirling around him. Long white feathers fluttered at the edge of his vision.

Danny just took it all in for a long moment. The silver light stroked his skin, the embrace of a loving parent. A warm contentment enveloped his heart. He’d never seen anything more incredible than this.

For the second night in a row, Danny awoke to darkness. He blinked once, twice, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Well, he hadn’t fallen out of his hammock this time….

The boy sighed, pressing his cheek in the fabric. Back to sleep…

Wait. His half-lidded eyes fluttered open. There was a dim light, a soft glow coming from somewhere near. Out the corner of his eye…. soft, glowing filaments brushed his cheek. Tentatively, he reached up and grasped the… feather. It was a black feather, at the edge of his hairline near his ear.

With a definitive yank, Danny plucked it and- “Ow.” He hissed, the feather coming away with a sharp stab of pain.

Bringing it in front of his face, he stared at the culprit, eyes narrowed. Slowly, the feather’s blue light sputtered. It faded and died with a flicker, leaving the black fluff invisible in the darkness.

Danny could still feel it though, the delicate softness under his fingers. But even that changed. It fizzled and popped, a wet electric tingle. A smell like ozone, a storm over the sea, and the feather was gone.

The boy flopped his head down, staring at the ceiling. Well, he was definitely growing feathers now. Great. And now that he was paying attention…

On his back, his shoulders, the nabe of his neck… tiny feathers prickled, brushing against the fabric. Those in his hair gently swayed with the water, casting soft light.

Danny held his breath, wishing, hoping, praying them away. Slowly, the electric fizzle returned, the feathers disappearing. The boy sighed with relief. But at the same time… a stab of disappointment, like he’d lost something precious.

With a groan, Danny buried his face in the fabric of his hammock.

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

In the morning, Danny ignored the weird feather episode. He ignored his parents’ loud hypothesizing at the breakfast table. He ignored his sister’s rebuking of the adults. He tried to ignore everything but…

His hand tingled, going transparent. His spoon fell through, clattering to the floor. He fought back a groan but… it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the other three so focused on their argument.

With a huff, Danny left for school. He swam the familiar path, the same as any other day. And yet… everything felt different, his mind distant, his body far away.

His bag dropped from his back and he nearly ran into a wall. Or rather… the boy pulled up short, his tail…. What should have been his tail… phasing into the rock. Startled, he jerked away and a second later the misty limb popped back into solidity.

Dread dropped in his stomach. He couldn’t keep doing this. He needed to get it together.

Danny swam back to retrieve his bag. He picked it up, gripping it with white knuckles.

At school, the boy swam through the halls as stiff as a board. His muscles tensed, as if he could will them to stay present. If only it was that easy…

Five minutes into his first class, his pencil dropped through his fingers again. And as the day continued…. His backpack between classes, his sandwich at lunch, all the balls during gym.

Danny could keep hold of nothing.

His body trembled slightly, every part shaking as if his very molecules longed to come apart, to unravel and fly away. As the day progressed, his eyes swam, struggling more and more to focus. Out the corner of his vision….

Something many limbed and white-blue bobbed.

Confused, alarmed, Danny’s head snapped to the side to find… nothing. Just the wall, the seat beside him and… the boy winced… Tucker looked at him with furrowed brow.

“Sorry.” He winced sheepishly, rubbing his forehead. “Getting a headache.”

That was true at least. His head hurt, a dull ache behind his temple. It was making his ears ring.

He tried to focus back on the lecture but the droning words failed to perforate his watery brain. They vibrated, deep and reverberating. He can’t understand a word.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, a growing sense of wrongness. No, this wasn’t right.

In front of him, Paulina raised her hand. The teacher pointed at her and nodded. The mer-girl spoke, her voice as musical as ever, but… it shook his bones. Not the mer speech he was used to, that he’d heard his entire life but…

The bell rang out, signaling the end of the school day. Voices rose, a flurry of activity as students packed up their things. The teacher shouted over the cacophony of noise.

Danny cried out, covering his ears. But the sound still rang in his head, loud and deep. Like… like the bellowing of far away whale songs.

Sam and Tucker appeared in front of him, eyes increasingly wide and mouths open. They were talking but… the watery crash of distant glaciers breaking stabbed at his ears. Danny wanted to scream, wanted to cry. He couldn’t understand and-

“-ny? You with us, man? Danny?” Like a film popping over his mind, the words shifted into clarity.

The mer-boy blinked. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m-” Rapidly, he pushed himself up. “I…I need to go.”

Again he swam away, the rest of the day spent hiding in his room. He really was a coward.

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

The clouds, fluffy and white, drifted through the bright blue sky. Slow and leisurely, Danny flew among them. He approached, parting the curtain of mist. The droplets dusted his skin.

A strong flap and he rose above. Another orb of light in front of him. Instead of silver like the moon… it was golden. Soft yellow rays kissed his smiling face.

His wings titled, up and then swinging down. He swept down to roll on his back. His feathers wrapped around him, as stable and comfy as his own hammock. Eyes closing, he bathed in the sunlight.

Danny’s heart beat, slow and serene. He was safe, at peace.

Wind gently picked up, ruffling his feathers, swirling around. It whistled, hummed, sang.

Safety and warm. The light on his face…

Danny awoke to light on his face. Morning already? His eyes squinted. No, not morning.

Something branching and feathery hung over him, filling his vision. His breath caught, joy and fear clashing. It was Him. The Voice. His Abba-

Wait. No, this wasn’t some eldritch spirit. It was a luminescent creature, one of the ones he saw in the ravine. Dozens of feathered limbs sprouted from its center. They undulated, waving gently in an unseen current.

Hesitant, Danny reached up. To bat it away? To draw it closer? He didn’t know which. But the creature reached back. Its white-blue appendages, surprisingly solid and textured, gently wrapped around his fingers. Its light flickered, changing color. And so did Danny.

His eyes widened, spots on his skin lighting up. They shifted, from white-blue to golden yellow and back. He stared, awed and anxious.

Airy, warm pins and needles sparked at the tip of his tail, in his fingers. No. Not again.

The creature squeezed his fingers gently, comfortingly.

No. Not again. He couldn’t-

A hum, like a lullaby, sounded, swirling deep in his chest.

Danny fell back to sleep.

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

“You’re still here. Great…” The mer-boy grumbled in the morning.

Danny dressed and packed his bag, the creature hovered behind him silently. Now in the light he could see it more clearly. It had no discernible face, just a mouth barely visible in its center. Almost like some kind of starfish, though it sported far too many arms.

“So I’m going to go to school and you’re not gonna be here when I get back.” The boy fixed harsh eyes on the thing, trying to reprimand but... “Hey! What are you-”

He expected it to be hard and rough. But… “Huh.” Though it was solid, the texture was smooth, almost like the skin of a sea cow. Somehow, it nuzzled into his neck. “Oh no you don’t.” The still lingering anxiety melted into annoyance; it was hard to be scared of something rumbling softly… and admittedly adorably right next to his ear.

The creature’s dim glow flickered. Danny’s own spots appeared, casting soft light. “And now I’m glowing again. Wonderful.” That familiar tingling sensation sparked, the white hair at the edge of his vision starting to blur.

Danny gritted his teeth, grabbing the animal’s center. “No, we’re not doing this.” He pulled, at first gently. “I’m not disappearing again.”

It didn’t budge. Danny pulled harder. “Come on.” His grip tightened. “Let go.” A hard yank. The rumbling cut off, replaced with a hurt whimper. The feathery limbs disentangled. “There!”

The mer-boy flung the creature and bolted, slamming the door behind him.

“Danny! What have I said about not slamming doors?!” His mom yelled from the lower level.

He breathed out, relieved. That should keep it-

“Ah!” He turned around. The stupid creature floated in front of the door, somehow having escaped.

“And why are we yelling?” Danny could practically feel the woman storming up the connecting corridor. She arrived to the top, fists balled on her waist.

His eyes, wide and anxious, flitted from the floating creature to the woman.

“Well?” His mother raised a brow.

She couldn’t see it…

The boy smiled sheepishly. “Uh. Sorry. I thought I saw a box jelly. But it’s gone now.”

Her expression smoothly slightly, sternness fading. “Jack! Jellies are getting in the house again!” She shouted.

“On it! I’ll get the Fenton Jellyfish Juicer. They won’t know what hit ‘em!” His dad boasted proudly.

The other adults turned back to him. “Don’t slam the door next time, sweetie. You could break the hinges.” She turned and swept back down the stairs, already joining the loud conversation of their violent plans to capture innocent jellies.

Danny winced. Then, he turned back to the glowing animal. “She couldn’t see you…” His brow furrowed, an idea tickling his brain. The invisibility, the glowing….

Was this a wind spirit? One of His minions? It didn’t look like a creature of the world above. But then again…

The boy looked at his own hands. The memory of tiny sprouting feathers. His dreams of the stars and the sky. He didn’t look like a creature of the world above and yet…

Danny shook his head. What was he even thinking about? This was all crazy.

He huffed, turning and ignoring the animal. He darted off, towards the kitchen. The water quivered behind him with movement. Long, leathery appendages wrapped around his arm.

Sigh. This was going to be a long day.

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

The creature followed Danny, clinging to him all day. He’d given up trying to shake it off at the swim to school, determined to not look any crazier than he already appeared.

The boy made it to his first class without incident. Avoiding his friends’ attention and Dash’s bullying, he was as invisible as ever, though luckily not literally. And as he suspected… no one could see the creature except him. Their eyes flitted right over it, over him like always. At least no one was staring, not like yesterday when he was dropping things every five minutes. That was… odd actually.

Yesterday, his body kept trying to disappear, mind and muscles straining to stay present. But now… the warm tingle swirled in his chest, just below the surface and stronger than ever. And yet, it didn’t spread.

He eyed the creature suspiciously. Was that its doing? Why? How? And-

“-ny? Danny? Daniel?” Someone was calling his name. “Mr. Fenton?”

The boy blinked. “What?”

The teacher held up and waved around a spiral shell, white with orange red stripes and about the size of her hand. “Danny, I was asking you a question. What type of creature is this from and what are some of their close relatives?”

“Oh. Umh.” Danny blushed, embarrassed. “I think that’s from a nautilus. And they’re related to….” He racked his brain. “I can’t remember. Sorry.”

His classmates snickered but the teacher made no comment. “Can someone help Danny out?”

A girl Danny didn’t remember the name of raised her hand. “They’re related to octopus, squid, and cuttlefish.”

“Very good. Can one tell me…”

The class continued and Danny subtly glared at his sticky companion. Why did it have to distract him? Still, it purred softly, oblivious to his ire. Again, the mer boy found himself fighting not to groan.

The day continued. Trying to pay attention to his teachers, trying to avoid bullies and concerned friends, trying to ignore the creature’s soft purring. How did it even purr anyway? He’d never heard a starfish make noise and the longer he looked, the more sure he was they were related. Still, it was almost cute, clinging on to him like this….

Maybe the creature was growing on him.

The animal rumbled pleasantly and Danny found the airy warmth in his chest answering. He barely registered the subtle buzzing sound. That is… until class ended.

He rose to leave, making it all the way to the courtyard before Sam and Tucker cornered him.

“You’ve been avoiding us.” The purple-tailed mer crossed her arms.

Guilt stabbed at the blue-tail’s heart at the words. He shouldn’t have been running from his friends but...

“Yeah, Danny. I’ve been acting different since you showed us that creepy note.” Tucker eyed him, obviously worried. “What’s been happening?”

What had been happening… He didn’t understand it. It was weird, freaky, mind boggling, scary. But at the same time…

Danny shook his head, averting his eyes.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us.” Sam’s voice softened. “I know what happened at the ravine was freaky. And whatever’s happening now, you can tell us.”

Could he though? How could he even hope to explain? What was happening to his body was impossible. It was terrifying. He should be scared out of his mind, begging them for help. But…

That flicker of joy that passed over him last night when he thought it was the Wind Spirit hanging over him. His mouth opened and closed, the words stuck. The dreams, memories of safety, warmth, love…. Each night they felt so close, so authentic, so real. And he was terrified that they were all those things. And more terrified that they weren’t.

“Come on. We can help you.” Tucker pleaded. “We’ll figure something out.”

Danny wanted to laugh. “Help me? You guys can't help me.” He actually did laugh, something dark and humorless.

He failed to register his friends both going pale.

“I’m being brainwashed. Probably. Maybe. I have no idea.” He lifted his arms. “Maybe I’m dying. Or maybe the Spirit’s changing me into something like him. I’ve been sprouting feathers and glowing. There’s this feathery starfish thing that only I can see.” He waved frantically, dislodging the creature. “Oh! And I’ve been slowly disappearing.” His fingers started tingling, volume rising. “I dissolved completely, like I was just an idea. Like I didn’t exist anymore. Except I did! I came back. But I’m terrified that it’ll happen again and I wouldn’t be able to pull myself back together. I’ll just freaking disappear forever! And- ” He cut himself off. “What?”

Sam and Tucker had both flinched at his shout, jumping back.

“What?” Danny repeated, lowering his arms.

The two stared, alarmed. “We can’t understand what you’re saying.” Tucker said quietly.

The blue-tail sighed. “I know it’s confusing but…” He heard it. His voice… something was wrong. “Is that…” A hand raised to his throat. “Is that me?”

His voice… it echoed eerily, almost musically. Sweeping and airy. Like the wind above the sea. Like… like His.

This happened before, with Jazz and his parents. “No. Not again. Not now.” The warmth in his chest flared, spreading down his limbs.

“Danny! Your hands!” Sam pointed.

His eyes jerked to his hands. They were fine-

No. His fingers blurred, substance pulling apart.

“No. No. No.” He strained, focused. “No. Go back! Solid.” His once hands ignored him, the dissolution spreading up his arm. The hair at the edge of his vision unfocused. “No!”

His voice whistled, the angry gale of a thunderstorm. But still, he unraveled. His elbows to his shoulders, the tip of his tail to his hips.

Sam and Tucker both leapt forward, hesitance replaced with desperation. They grabbed for him but their fingers passed through as if he was water.

His insides turned out, his backpack falling through. His hair, his ears, his cheeks….

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker cried.

It all unwound. Danny dissolved.

#Danny Phantom #my fic #seafoam sky #ectoimplosion2023 #body horror #body horrow cw #Cosmic Horror #parental clockwork #mer au

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felinemotif · 2 months

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ik i could just ask this on discord but it’s not urgent so i didn’t wanna like. @ you or anything

i just had a couple of steph questions!! first: i swear i remember reading that steph was a vegetarian or had attempted being vegetarian at some point? but i can’t find anything about it & am starting to think i imagined it shsjjdkdjd

& then my second question: is she mentioned to like. enjoy any particular shows/movies or genre of shows/TV??

(these are for fics but like… minor, single sentence details so. def not urgent <333)

also feel free to throw any other interesting steph facts at me!! esp things you feel ppl forget / leave out 💞

ahhh you know i am always happy to talk about my girl <333 it’s after midnight for me so i am sorry that this isn’t the most eloquent answer and i am sure i am forgetting some things (i’ll add to this later/dm you if anything hits me) but to the best of my knowledge:

yes, stephanie is/was(?) a vegetarian. not sure off the top of my head if it was stated anywhere else but i dug up this screenshot from batgirls #13.

(for clarification this was when steph and cass body-swapped)

so no, you didn’t imagine it! though i can’t recall if she is still a vegetarian now, sorry.

now, your other question was much harder lol. i actually went and skimmed through all of the comics i have marked down as my favorite reads for her (+ a few non faves that i thought might have smth relevant) and most of the time when stephanie is shown watching tv or in front of a computer, all that’s ‘on’ is the news.

but! for you, livvy, i didn’t give up.

in nightwing #106, stephanie, cass and dick are all sitting down for their movie night. it’s cass’ pick that week but since steph did stay to watch, i think we can go on a limb and say that she at the very least doesn’t mind horror/sci-fi.

i know that she’s also referenced harry potter throughout her comics— usually just a throwaway line like ‘accio’ so from there we can infer that she does like fantasy/adventure as well.

(took some digging but i found an example in batgirl #18)

she’s referenced star trek as well, and at least in one conversation has been shown to know enough about game of thrones and star wars to joke about it with cass in batman: urban legends #5

i know that’s toeing the line of pulling at straws but given her more delved into interests in the action and fantasy genre i feel like it’s okay to assume that she does like those shows :) and if not who is going to tell me i’m wrong :) stephanie brown would love arya stark

all of this to say that stephanie has been shown to enjoy and understand pop-culture. a good portion of her civilian friends are alt as well, and i’d go so far as to say that given that, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that she would enjoy independent films.

she’s a self-confessed music snob with an interest in art. i could easily see that playing into a joy for film festivals.

(didn’t include because this is already so long but after this panel — i already had it screenshot but i believe it comes from batgirls #1 — was her saying that they were looking for models and steph did consider it so i’d argue that she would enjoy fashion shows as well, though probably ones that are entirely student-run or by small designers)

(she hung that poster up on her bedroom wall next to her bed later on)

i know this isn’t covering everything, but i hope it’s enough to help!!! so excited to read your upcoming fics 🫶🏻 and as always if you have more steph questions or need a panel dug up, i am your gal

#tldr: she’s a nerd and a bit of a social butterfly with a rebellious streak a mile wide and her interests reflect as much #ladytauria #replies #stephanie brown #dc #edit; i am not personally crazy abt urban legends 5 but like… it was there so i felt it needed to be included

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drowninginthoughts27 · 8 months

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2/9 Piercing Word Count: 725

(mcd, somewhat canon compliant, very brief mentions of child abuse) @jegulus-microfic

A blood curtailing scream pierces through the silence of the night.

Then the choked out sobs start.

“Regulus! Get out here!” Sirius cry’s, struggling to catch his breath.

Regulus springs upright in response. Bolting from his room into the center of the apartment. There Sirius sits at the dining room table, head in his hands. His body shaking with the force of his own sobs.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Regulus asks. He’s now crouched down next to Sirius at the table in an attempt to get Sirius to look at him.

“Sirius, look at me! What’s wrong?” Regulus says, a worried look setting across his face. “Do I need to leave? Is me hiding here putting you in any more danger?”

Since the start of the war their worlds have been falling down around them. But Sirius usually doesn’t have much of a visible reaction to it all. Neither does Regulus. Both of them are so used to shutting down their emotions starting at an early age. There was no other way to survive that prison of a house. But especially since Regulus had faked his own death and ran to Sirius they had been rather closed off around one another.

Finally Sirius looks up. Blinking through his tears. Eyeliner running down his face leaving black streaks, fear deep in his gray-blue eyes. The same fear that now most likely reflects back in Regulus’.

“They’re dead!” Sirius cry’s out between shaky breaths.

“Shh, shh, whose de-“ just then Regulus sees what Sirius is holding. A now crumpled piece of parchment. The ink bleeding over the page from Sirius’ tears.

2 simple 5 word sentences. Both with enough power to pierce through Regulus’ soul.

James and Lily are dead. Harry’s the boy who lived. It says in a rushed script. The reality of the situation pierced through him. No further explanations or instructions. But nothing else put on that page could have stopped the ringing Regulus now hears in his own ears. The world spinning around him, vision going in and out- blurring at the edges. Stars filling his field of view.

Memories flood through him of him and James’ short time together.

How he used to hate James under the false pretenses that has stolen Sirius’ attention and affection from him.

How in his 4th year hating James became harder and harder to do. He fought against his growing crush by throwing harsher and harsher comments James’ way. And how apparently that just made James want to be around him and annoy him more and more.

How, one day in Regulus’ 5th year James had followed Regulus up to the astronomy tower with the stupid ‘Marauders Map’ in hand. And James had professed his mutual affection to Regulus. And how there they had had their first kiss under the stars.

How, almost 1 month later Regulus had first said ‘I Love You’ and James had responded with an equally meaningful ‘I Love You’. Holding each other in their arms.

How sitting side by side in the room of requirements they had planned out their entire lives together. Picket fence and all for after the war was over.

And how Regulus had come back to school after winter holidays his 6th year covered in injuryies of varying severity. Which had prompted James to beg Regulus to escape. To come live with him and Sirius. To which Regulus responded by pulling up his left sleeve. Revealing a black slithering tattoo that altered both of their lives forever.

James had since turned his back on Regulus. Leaving him behind, never speaking to one another again. Causing James to find a joy filled life with his childhood crush Lily.

Somewhere in the chaos of his own mind he thinks he hears the door swing open. Feels his own legs give way beneath him. Yelling starts, hexes flying around the apartment, the loud noises of things falling and breaking. Maybe even more wrenching sobs of Sirius’ begging. But Regulus can’t be bothered to care. Because James is dead. His James is dead. And he died thinking Regulus was dead as well. Most likely he died still thinking Regulus was a cruel and evil death eater as well. And there was nothing Regulus could do about it. Nothing he could do to stop the piercing pain of his reality.

#im sorry #Ik this is kinda sad #but this is what I wrote with the prompt so…#any way hope you like it #marauders #jegulus #james x regulus #Em’s microfics

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p-artsypants · 4 months

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Blurb #42

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

“So…what happens with Transformation?” Asked Beast Boy. “We saw your cool eye trick. Any new upgrades we should look out for?”

“I am unsure. Perhaps I will be stronger. Transformation mostly affects the reproductive cycle. I can now have a child.”

“Quite literally alien puberty,” Raven deduced.

“Yeah, but even human puberty comes with a bunch of bonuses!” Said Beast Boy, counting them off on his fingers. “Deeper voice, more muscles, we get taller.”

“Acne, weird body hair,” muttered Robin.

“We get all sweaty and can’t stop thinking about girls,” said Cyborg.

“I hear women have a monthly problem,” Raven droned.

“Alright yes! Some drawbacks too!” Beast Boy lamented. “Anyway, any idea what happened to Robin? Besides the growth spurt?”

Starfire looked quite uneasy. “I could not say. A human going through Transformation would be…unheard of. I believe I shall make a visit to Tamaran and ask my K’norfka if he knows.”

“Dude, what’s a…gnorfka?”

“I believe an adequate translation is ‘guardian’. He raised me since I was very young.”

“So…a nanny?”

“I believe that is also correct. As I said, I was not around my Tamaranean peers as they went through Transformation. I only heard of it.”

“Where were you if you weren’t around other Tamaraneans?” Raven asked. “You’ve been on Earth for a little less than a year.”

“Correct. I was…hmm,” she paused, realizing she had never outright told them. It was a little hard to talk about. “You remember that I escaped the Gordianians when I arrived on Earth, correct?”

“Yeah, and you almost killed us while you were still handcuffed?” Beast Boy snickered.

Raven smacked him.

“Yes. I was held prisoner for several years. I had been sent off world by my parents to train for war. Then…well, a series of unfortunate events took place which inevitably landed me here on Earth, where every day has been better than the last!”

Robin squeezed her hand again. “Then…is it safe for you to go back to Tamaran?”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps you are correct. I shall send a message instead.” She thought it over for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I believe that would be most wise. I have not been in contact with Tamaran since I was captured. A message would come as less of a shock. Perhaps if Galfore comes, he will bring some of my favorite foods!” She started to smile more. “I do not believe my parents would be able to leave, but maybe I will hear from them as well.”

“Go ahead, Star. I’m not going anywhere.” Robin said, weakly.

Starfire floated in the air, filled with joy. She needed to hug, and so she did. Each one of her friends, she brought into a quick, warm embrace. Then when she got to Robin, she hesitated, since he was so weak. Instead, she kissed his forehead.

His face colored significantly.

“I shall return! Worry not Robin, for I shall find help for what ails you!” And she zoomed out of the room.

“Yeah,” Raven said. “She’s fine.”

“How about you, Rob? Now that Starfire’s out of the room, how do you actually feel?”

“I didn’t lie. Weak, sore, dizzy. The saline drip is helping with the headache, I think.” He remained completely still, his eyes closed. “I’ve never felt this weak before in my life. I’m totally zapped. It takes energy to speak.”

“Then conserve your energy,” Raven scolded. “Just rest. It’s been quiet all week, and we can certainly handle things for a little bit longer.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he offered a little smirk and then took a deep breath to try to fall asleep.

#fanfiction #teen titans #robstar #robin #starfire #dick grayson #koriand'r #70 for 70 celebration

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horatio-fig · 1 year

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I studied something called Toxic Beta Masculinity for my Dissertation. I covered toxic fan culture, gatekeeping and incels, inspired by my experiences in the Star Wars Community. I could talk for hours about so much stuff, but I want to talk about Syril Karn.

I basically studied men like him, so seeing it playing out on my screen every week has been truly wonderful. TV and film only ever show the extreme vilified side of things when actually, it’s much more subtle and nuanced and harder to spot in real life.

(I’m gonna use some very broad statements here but I can clarify anything if people want. I want to make it very clear I am not defending anyone’s behaviour, this is just purely my take from an academic point of view)

What we’re seeing is something called Toxic Beta or Toxic Geek Masculinity. Masculinity is not bad. When you break down the core values of what makes a ‘successful man’ a lot of them are positive.

They’re things like “be able to provide for your loved ones”, “be physically fit and healthy”, “Protect your loves ones”. This translates to simply, have a partner, have a good job so you have money, have money so you can buy a house, etc. People who can do these things are categorised as Alpha males, those who cannot are Beta.

(Again, using very broad terms here)

Due to modern life, ‘Beta males’ are becoming a lot more common. A lot of us can’t afford our own place so we have to move in with our parents. It’s a lot harder to find any sort of job, and finding a good paying one is almost impossible. We’re stuck in bad jobs, living with our parents, making barely enough money to survive.

Just because you are in that situation, does not mean you are toxic. But it's very easy to fall into that trap.

Toxic Beta masculinity happens when these men realise that they do not possess the traditional masculine tropes. But instead of accepting that, they choose to vilify and blame those who do have them, or decide it’s someone else's fault. However, they’re not going to try and attack alpha males, because they are higher up than them. So, they instead project hate towards people who they think are below them (women, POC, Queer people) This is why the Star Wars Community has such problems with bigotry and it’s where gatekeeping comes from. (I’ll probably do a more in-depth post about this one day) Sometimes it’s malicious, but a lot of the time it is subconscious and they won’t realise they’re even doing it.

But, we’re not talking about that, we’re talking about Syril.

Going back to the living with parents and no money thing. Millennials and younger generations will very likely never own property or make investments. After our living expenses, we are left with very little money and very little time to indulge in our hobbies. So, we have the choice to try and save up, or, what mostly happens is, we invest our money and time into something that brings us joy or we deem important.

However, when we do this, we’re essentially deciding that our passion for something outweighs everything else and naturally we get defensive and over protective over the things we love. This passion can manifest itself in different ways, from a need to become an expert in it, to a need to lash out and be aggressive.

Syril is this situation now. His life has started to crumble and worst of all he can pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. He can see all the people who are to blame, Cassian for killing his crew, His mother for pushing him too much, Meero for not letting him get any further in the investigation. The fact that all of these people are minorities is subtle, but very important.

(He has nothing but respect for the older white men of authority he runs into, whether it be his old boss, or his new one, and always does as he’s told. But when it comes to people who are ’lesser’ than him, he feels that entitlement to take what he wants. Yes, he respects Meero as an officer, but not enough to respect her boundaries.)

We see he has figurines in his room, much like a lot of us do. He has become obsessed with justice and fighting for what is right in his own warped way and he has started to become fixated and defensive about it. His beta masculinity is starting to become toxic.

He is not an Incel, he is not a racist bigot or a raging misogynist. Yet. He has the capacity to be all these things, but that doesn't mean it’s set in stone. There are all the pieces for a truly great redemption story, or a truly powerful descent into villainhood. We’ll just have to see how the writers choose to go.

I hope Star Wars Fans watch Andor and see themselves in Syril, and view his descent as a warning. I am not ‘defending incels’ or playing devil's advocate, but there are a lot of stages before someone gets to that point that I think people need to be more aware of so that you can spot it in yourself, or in someone else and act before it’s too late. You can stop radicalization, but it is very hard to undo it.

Anyway, it’s truly wonderful seeing the thing you studied and nearly went insane over being portrayed on TV and being portrayed in such a brilliant way. People are not binary, there is no black and white, no one is 100% good or bad. Anyone is open to radicalization. Andor has captured this better than any piece of media I have ever seen and I am so grateful for its existence.

#long post #i could have made it longer tbh I could talk about this all day #star wars andor #syril karn #It’s brilliantly done #Oh the temptation to do a PhD #Urgh that moment when you get to use your niche topic of study 🤤

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doriandistortion · 6 months

Text

My favorite quotes

Things might not get any better but they may get a little easier - I hate sports by I hate sex

When I talk they say I'm preaching cause I'm passionate when I speak - set to stun

Bad men make their own rules and only dead men can tell not tales - set to stun

That memory is just a tinkle in the toilet - it came to me in a dream

Some people make an art of watching life pass by.

My body is a witch, I am burning it

Everything is gonna burn. Well all get turns, I'Il get mine too.

If ignorance is bliss I wish I were blissfully ignorant - dear ms. Leading - the dear

I see the horns they follow me down god fell silent when I cried out - mistakes like fractures

My tombstone was made at birth my coffin is on my back - deadringer knocked loose

The once weak will one day rule the world - Charlie by million dead

I know when it's time to let the dog decide - a werewolf by attic abasement

I distrust a mattress that smells like it feels. We can unmake the bed and we can reinvent the wheel - a werewolf

Well, you can tell by the way I move my feet that I'm a genuine insurrectionary

It's a kind of nervous shuffle that contrasts so well with bolsavic bravado - I am the party by million dead

My knife wants to hide deep inside of you - counting by heavens

I drink myself to death to be the after life of the party - love me normally by will wood

When I die I want you to die too - we will commit wolf murder by of Montreal

I envy you because you can believe in things like I never could - we will commit wolf murder

I love you, Maurice but I used to be quite a happy person before I met you. - flowers

The sadness will last forever - Vincent VanGough

Happiness became a chore - Roy's our boy by charmer

Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder - for Beatrice by Lemony Snicket

The world is quiet here - a series of unfortunate events

I know that you wish you were sick but there are so many ways of being more disappointing - Kali Masi

You watch me like a ten car highway wreck with detached. vulgar curiosity

This looking down at the tops of the hats of us passers-by from your 7th floor balcony

And from such a height you missed creatures too small for sight carry on covert conversations

As the misguided insects crown me their grasshopper king with a dance of celebration - January 1979 by mewithoutyou

Honey, it's depressing what depression does to some. - jawbreaker

Numb, some call it. Now, me and Jesus, we like to feel pain - ecifircas by SewersIvt

Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. - 1899

Last of the pitchers, catfish done hunting, Harry Lundt Most of the killers never get famous and it's hard on everyone - Chinatown by jets to Brazil

I want a cut scene - beach life in death

If you cant find your friends, you can leave without them and if you run out of drugs, you can sleep without them And if you wanna go home, you can call a taxi. And if you don't wanna talk, you can sit in the backseat - car seat headrest live at rock the garden

Came a time when every star fall brought you to tears again - helena by MCR

Let's talk about all our friends who lost the war and all the novels that had yet to be written about them. - the good that won't come out by rilo kiley

I was a hater in the depths of an emotional hibernation - first time high by of Montreal

A dull mind can’t cut you. Sleeping dogs won't bite. - spinning wheel by worthikids

How senseless death, How precious life - king park

I've been asleep for half my life but l'm awake now I make mistakes and I make them well, I make 'em big so as to shake the ground by uhhhmm??? I’ll edit this later lmao

I've found that the road to happiness is paved with rows and rows of very tempting parking spaces - call me what you like by lovejoy

I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible - against the kitchen floor by will wood

I'm wide awake, it's morning! - road to joy by bright eyes

I wish I was like you, easily amused - all apologies by nirvana

People like you find it easy - atmosphere by joy division

I will speak for you, Father. I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint. - salieri in Amadeus

Focus on what is ahead and step forward. - zenophelion on tumblr (your demons have good advice actually)

Some make exhaustion a mode of expression and that's their way - Chinatown jets to Brazil

Your entire life can change in a year @bmekween on TikTok

Just to prove that I adore every inch of sanity - drowning lessons MCR

I need to recycle all the feelings I had in the past - Kylie by bear vs. shark

Thy firmness makes my circle just, and makes me end where I begin - everything was beautiful … by mewithoutyou

The time is coming where you won’t feel like you do now - woolworm by Indian summer except that part is sung by a woman who was sampled

I wanna be a horse full of fire that will never train - pig by Sparklehorse

It’s hard to remember to live before you die - lives - modest mouse

If you could be anything I bet you’d be disappointed am I right? - lives - modest mouse

Good luck with your fight

Promise me the sun will rise again - washer by slint

I am a beast among machines - set to stun

If I’ve got nothing to live for, then I’ve got nothing to die for - doomsday by set to stun

YOU CAN TALK THE TALK BUT CAN YOU WALK THE WALK MOTHERFUCKER!!! - staria II - set to stun

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twilightofthe · 2 years

Text

Hey y’all!

Just figured I should say hi to some of y’all since I realize I haven’t been the most talkative on here as of late

Here’s why.

I am fighting Star Wars fandom burnout so hard. So, so hard.

This media meant more to me than any media ever had for a long, long long time. It still holds this near and dear spot to me in my heart. But now it’s just like, losing the magic, losing the love, losing the passion, and I am 1000% blaming it on Disney and its need to fuck the skeleton of every dead horse they drag back out of the grave.

Basically it’s like, there’s too much content? And yeah some of it is content that I LIKE, like. I’ve been begging for more Rebels content since it ended over four years ago and now we’re finally getting the return of at least Sabine Hera and Ezra! We’re getting a Cassian show and I LOVED Cassian in Rogue One and never dreamed I’d get more content of him! We had an Obi Wan and Anakin show with baby Skytwins. WE HAD AN OBI WAN AND ANAKIN SHOW WITH BABY SKYTWINS. Like, if you had offered me any of this stuff back in like, 2017, I would have lost my goddamn mind, I would have been ecstatic, the Obi Wan show alone would have made me have a heart attack and die of excitement alone and haunt the shit out of the show as a ghost so I didn’t miss a single millisecond of it.

But now I’m just like. Recoiling from all of Disney’s new planned release announcements? Like I’m looking at all of these ideas and I’m just sighing wearily over the Mando S3 trailer and grunting cynically at the Tales of the Jedi like “hmm whose characterization are they going to fuck up this time” and Andor is so close and I’m scraping the bottom of my barrel to try and find the joy to watch it and rolling my eyes at Ezra casting rumors like “ok yeah sure but it’s in the fucking Ahsoka show they won’t do him justice anyway” and I hate it so much, because this is Star Wars, and I love Star Wars so, so much!

Like this is my universe with my favorite disaster blorbos and the creative worlddbuilding and the magic that I fell in love with, and not being able to find excitement in that is breaking my heart???

Like, I don’t know, it just feels like it’s getting too big for me? Like they’re adding on more and more to the story and I’m struggling to keep up and none of it is even mattering to me anymore because they’re just going to dump more on top of me before I can even breathe.

Quite literally drowning in content.

I love chocolate cake, it’s like Disney heard me say I love chocolate cake and now they just keep force-feeding me more and more and more chocolate cake even when I’m full, even when I need time to digest, even when while I still love chocolate cake, maybe I’d prefer some vanilla ice cream instead, no they just keep shoveling it in and my stomach is going to rupture.

And it doesn’t make sense and I feel like a bad fan or someone who doesn’t care enough, because I’m seeing OTHER people in the fandom who have been around for just as long as me or longer and they’re still going strong! They’re still having fun! They’re not letting the circumstances cramp their genuine, shining joy for the characters and stories they love, and I want that. I’m jealous of them that I can’t do that, and feeling guilty as shit that I’m being like, disloyal or something, or I never really loved it all that much if I could get so tired so easily?

I’m not going anywhere, y’all, I promise. I’ll be right here and I’ll be excited to watch and reblog for Andor and Tales of the Jedi and Visions volume 2.

But I might be a bit quieter because I’m fighting not to lose something I’ve loved so much for so long. I need to find that love again.

#morai musings #sorry this is a negative one i just had to get it out there

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shadowsong26fic · 11 months

Text

How Do I Love Thee

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG-13

‘Verse: Lux

Characters: Lux, Mariko

Warnings: War/violence/the fire and its fallout.

Notes: Written for the Year of the OTP event. May prompt: flower language. Just little bits and pieces about their feelings/relationship, based (mostly) on a symbolic meaning of each flower. For a couple of them, I used something slightly different (i.e., the physical effect when used as medicine) instead. Not in chronological order; some of these are from their first relationship on the CSP station, and some are from after their reunion.

(I am also going to do this for Star Wars, BSG, and two of my other original ‘verses, if you’re interested in checking those out! One ship per canon. The fanfic ones will be posted to AO3 probably a day or two after they’re on tumblr. Master list of all fills can be found here.)

1. daisy

Lux knows she is not an innocent, of course, and she has never claimed to be; as for her sense of loyalty, well, it depends on how one defines the term, but Mariko--she’s known for some time that, whatever happens, whatever else se might be, her loyalty to her beloved Human is set in stone.

2. narcissus

What Mariko has learned about hope is that it’s only a hairs breadth away from doom and--melodramatic as it sounds, it’s oddly appropriate in her case--damnation; but she would never say that hope--that love--isn’t worth that risk.

3. rose

Sometimes, Mariko isn’t sure what name to give her feelings for her angel--love, of course, but there are so many different kinds and while some obviously don’t fit, there are thousands and thousands of shades of meaning in that one little word that do.

4. violet

Lux is an angel, and angels aren’t men or women the way Humans often are; but Mariko loves women, and Lux is more than pleased to be enough of a woman for her.

5. apple blossom

There is an inherent fragility to Mariko--not just the scars; it was present before she broke and pulled herself together--but the temporary nature of a Human life shines through her, beautiful and brief, and there are times--many times--when Lux can’t stand the thought of how quickly all of this will end.

6. goldenrod

Mariko has always had at least a bit of a sense of adventure, enough to take her across galaxies into places most people barely dreamed of--and enough to let her meet, and love, and follow Lux.

7. mimosa

Kindness is such an odd thing to contemplate; it’s impossible to forget how things ended the first time, and Lux’s war drives her to do many things that even the most optimistic couldn’t call kind, but there are moments between them, little flashes of care like rays of sunlight, that shine through, for Mariko, even on their darkest days.

8. larkspur

They don’t say the words often--not because it’s not something they need or want to hear, but because, by the time they’re there again, by the time Mariko is ready, there are so many other ways they can make their feelings known.

9. lily

They never discussed the possibility of children.

10. baby's breath

Starting over is such a painful thing--they both know that, so when Mariko joins Lux on her ship and they leave Red Sky together, both of them know to move slowly, carefully, to avoid crushing whatever potential they might now have.

11. coneflower

Lux would have thought she’d hate the feeling of any other being’s hands on the scars Michaela left when her wings were broken--but Mariko’s touch, soft and light and gentle, brings her almost a sense of peace.

12. gardenia

Lux has always promised to protect her, but as they find their way back to each other, Mariko sometimes lies awake at night, next to her beloved angel, and wonders how the hell she’s going to protect her.

13. peony

Lux wants nothing but the good fortune and joy for her Mariko; if that means walking away, she will learn to live with the loss somehow.

14. phlox

Despite all the differences between them, something undefinable just fits between them; lining up the rough edges of their hearts into perhaps not something seamless, but certainly something whole.

15. lilac

Mariko has always been somewhere between agnostic and atheist, and now she walks with literal angels--but is it really spiritual, is it really faith if everything about Lux and Gabriel and Simon and all of it is so very tangibly real?

16. safflower

For all the pain and fear and grief and guilt, there also is so much joy, just in looking across the cockpit of their ship and seeing her smile.

17. sweet pea

The first night they spend together is a new experience for both of them, but--God, is it a good one.

18. tuberose

There’s always been a bit of danger in Mariko’s attraction to Lux--emotional danger, in that interspecies relationships so rarely end well, and the power and myth and power of myth, though that comes later.

19. tulip

It may not be enough to save them, or protect them, or guide them through the war to come, but Mariko and Lux truly, deeply love each other, and that matters.

20. chrysanthemum

There are turning points, and crossroads, because that’s life; only once, after the fire when the horror and the pain and the regret were overwhelming, have they chosen to turn away from one another.

21. bluebell

Lux knows that this second war may well end with her death, but the Holy One has said that some things last beyond death, and she likes to think that her love for her Mariko might be one of those things.

22. foxglove

For weeks before either of them actually says anything, Mariko’s heart races whenever Lux is close; angel’s hearts are built a little differently, but metaphorically, if nothing else, the same is true for Lux.

23. snapdragon

Lux has lied when necessary--it’s in her nature to do what is necessary; it takes a grace and strength she hardly knew she had to tell Mariko the entire truth.

24. orchid

Mariko might sometimes feel small and awkward next to the preternatural grace and elegance of her lover, but when Lux looks down at her, she only sees her light.

25. freesia

Trust is hard, after everything Lux has lived through over the eons, after everything Mariko suffered when it ended the first time; but the Holy One knows they never stop trying.

#shadowsong writes original fic

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waterberry-strawmelon · 3 years

Text

Seeing all these dozens upon dozens of upcoming Disney, Pixar, Marvel, and Star Wars sequels, prequels, and TV series (all solely available on Disney+) really is just them shamelessly displaying how successful they’ve been at monopolizing an entire field of art, huh?

#disney #marvel #Star Wars #pixar #disney+#ugh.#mine #I feel like at some point the majority of this stuff had some joy in it; but now it’s just soul-less #I literally can’t find it in me to enjoy any of these announcements #it’s more than we need #and it’s literally JUST to make money. it makes me so upset

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nemeseos-noctua · 3 years

Note

Hello! It's nice to see a new genshin impact writer! I saw requests are open, and there's two I have in mind (if it's ok with you): One is for Razor, Albedo, Xiao, and ganyu (possibly Aether if you can) wherein Reader is scared of love. Like, they're scared of opening up and love someone in fear of rejection or being tossed away. But yet they still daydream having someone who'd love them making it more obvious how much they want to love despite their fears anyway--

With this information, how will they confess to Reader about their feelings? Or comfort/console them?

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: albedo, xiao, ganyu, (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: reader has a pyro vision, albedo and xiao story spoilers in their parts

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: srry for cutting some characters off!! the character limit is 3! (but personally i would write for aether hehe hes so cute i love him)

you just so happened to have a quest in dragonspine

you did not expect to see fatui—especially not fight them

and... you did not expect to get ganged up on! what is this? a bully session? what the heck?

Among the brawn and burly figures of the Fatui members, you didn’t fail to notice a streak of blonde and dazzling blue from a distance—your eyes widening as you prayed to whatever archon would dare to listen...

Please, please don’t be another stupid enemy. You thought with a grimace, your heart pounding in your chest as you could hear a voice—it was calm yet strong, like a endless waterfall or a river creek.

“Burst forth!”

In a matter of seconds, a geo flower emerged from the earth, your form being lifted up on the tiny platform as shards of crystallized rock formed under you, nearly stabbing you in the gut.

Who? What? How? Who was this stranger? This vision-wielder?

Wasting no time, you plummeted down on a nearby Fatui—deeming this geo-user as ‘safe’, you summoned your own flames, charring the crystal snow black as you wrapped your arm around the blonde, barely taking any time to observe his features.

from then on, you never expected to grow close to this mystery man

turns out he was the chief alchemist of the knights! you weren’t personally associated with the knights... but being chief alchemist certainly was a grand title, right?

with the use of your pyro vision, you helped accompany—albedo—you learned his name was

at first, the two of you were just exploration buddies. but as time went on, butterflies began to form in your stomach, nervousness seemed to peak when he was around

love was like a poison—you knew it’d hurt, you knew it’d kill you to have a drop—

but you wanted it. you wanted love, you wanted to be held by albedo and to twirl his silky hair around your fingers...

but—would he want you?

You wanted to love Albedo so badly.

Yet you knew, you couldn’t. The alchemist just wasn’t the type for love, he was not the type to give kisses or reassurances, nor was he the type to confess with a rose in his hands.

It wouldn’t hurt to dream, though.

The thoughts you had before you slept were of him, of how pretty his eyes were—you couldn’t even pinpoint a color for it. Sometimes, they were blue, sometimes, they were teal.

With every shooting star that’d zip past the sky, every eyelash that’d fall and every fire that’d be lit with the palm of your hands... you hoped for a love. A love so grand it’d outshine the sun, a love so grand it could make you forget the past and undo the pain of before.

But, in the depths of your mind, in the wings of the butterflies that’d flutter in your stomach... you knew—

Albedo did not love you.

albedo initially thought of you as a torch lighter.

LOOK, HE IS A LOGICAL AND RESOURCEFUL MAN. he does not see the world with a rosie-colored-lens like how many others do—he sees it as the facts

and with your pyro vision? combined with dragonspine, ooh, please... ain’t that a match lighter?

but as time went on, he started to see you in a new light

you were knowledgeable, you respected his views and even contributed sometimes! you were no prodigy of alchemy, of course, but you were well-versed in combat and oftentimes knew how to navigate dragonspine

(he asked you how you knew dragonspine so well. all you told him was “Pain”)

but... albedo is observant. he’s definitely aware of your feelings and nervousness, how you get overly sweaty near him and fumble on your words

it’s then he realizes—he likes you too

love is a foreign concept to him, uncharted territory and an unexplored region. of course, as an alchemist, it is up to him to discover the unknown

and love—love is unknown

how could one possibly dedicate their entire life to another? albedo always questioned this notion, for humans were free beings that wanted nothing more than to break free of their shackles

and yet—the moment the alchemist met you? all of those questions flew out of the window

he wished... he wished to love you. but to him, it looks as if you do not want to love him

It’s frustrating, really.

How Albedo would brush over your hand mindlessly, how he’d hand you an object and let your fingertips meet for two seconds too many, how his cold yet soft lips would curve into a smile upon seeing you return from your endeavors.

Why? Why? Why? Why did he do this? Was he aware of the way he made you go crazy?

You wanted to love him, so so bad—but—

“[Y/N],” Albedo’s voice seemed to pierce through your thoughts as if he had heard them.

“Y-Yes?” You turned immediately, the rush of your heart not calming a bit, the nervousness of your leg that bounced up and down as a remedy that you wish didn’t have to be so obvious.

Averting his eyes from yours, you missed the pixie blush that dusted the tip of his ears. He was not aware of your insecurities—but he was aware of one thing.

That—that he liked you... a lot, in fact.

“Recently...” Albedo started, clearing his throat anxiously before continuing, “I have started to develop some... feelings, for you. It is okay if you do not reciprocate, but it feels wrong to think about you in such a light when you are not awa—“

“Yes!”

You winced.

And then, everything seemed to crumble. Was he talking about someone else? Was there someone behind you? Was this a mindless prank? As it had been all those years ag—

A hand rested on your cheek, bringing you back to reality with the mere touch of his fingers.

albedo... in all of his intelligent prowess... was not expecting for you to say yes

in the public, he is a genius— a prince, a prodigy, even. but to him, he is but a failed student who is trying his best in completing his master’s final orders:

find the meaning of life

what is life? life is broad, life is different, life is... well, life.

at first, albedo had assumed that his master was talking about living life, as in plants or animals.

but now—with you, with klee, with mondstadt, with everyone.

the chief alchemist seemed to realize:

life, life was in you.

life brought joy, laughter, pain, excitement, happiness—

and sometimes, even love

“But Albedo I—“

“It’s okay, [Y/N]. Though I am not personally aware of what seems to be troubling you, I will do everything in my power to assure that you feel comfortable with me.”

Life was short, Albedo noted.

So—he wants to enjoy it.

—With you.

xiao does not fear rejection, but he does fear love

how pitiful... for a guardian yaksha such as him to fear such a trivial matter

love—love was scary. love could take control of him like how he was manipulated in the archon war, love could tug his arms and move him around like a puppet

he, adeptus xiao, did not want to love

but then, you came in. and it frustrated him tremendously. you were but a mere mortal, a fleeting life that came into his eternal one. you were someone who he did not deserve

and yet, he loved you

so much, so so so much, he can’t bear it. he can take on all those karmic binds, all those whispers and hatred—yet he cannot bear the love he feels for you. he cannot bear the way his heart races or leaps whenever he sees you, he cannot bear you

but—his heart does not like the fact that you feel the same

you had told him before, one night, a few months ago... you told him how you were afraid of love

you were afraid of getting tossed away, of being forgotten like the fallen archons in war, like a side character in a play of fontaine

and all xiao could do was scoff. whoever dared to throw you away would meet his spear, his rage. he could not fathom a world where you were hated, where anyone would dare to reject you—because, because—

you were his world, regrettably

Pacing up the stairs of Wangshu Inn, you ignored the gross feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin.

“[Y/N].”

Jolting up, your eyes met with that of the Guardian Yaksha—his piercing gaze and unwavering strength eyeing you down as if you were a pest.

“You’re going to get sick. Your mortal body cannot withstand such weather,” Xiao scolded, and on cue, a flash of light zipped through the air, the deep rumble of thunder following soon after.

Observing the way you flinched at the noise, Xiao merely wrapped an arm around your waist, teleporting you to the top of the inn and into your room.

“Dry up. I will return with soup,” The adeptus waved off your nervous gaze. He was not stupid, he has seen mortals succumb to sickness, and he hopes that you will not be one of them.

but as he heads to the kitchen, he cannot help but notice—notice the fact that you seemed to be... uneasy around him

was it something he said? was he perhaps too harsh with you? you of all people should know his words mean well, though...

and ugh, here it is again. the feeling of love that made even him overthink the smallest of things

yet after he brought you some soup and got you into bed, the question still ran around his mind like a halo. did you hate him? was this sickness bringing out your true thoughts?

well, yes and no

“Xiao...” You quietly murmured, wincing as the winds picked up inside your room, materializing a certain Yaksha out of thin air.

“What?”

“I’m sorry...”

“...?”

Rushing up to you, Xiao immediately placed a hand on your forehead, worried that you were on the brink of death.

“I’m sorry for liking you.”

“... What?” His eyes widened in disbelief, in shock. Sorry? Why were you sorry? Did you regret liking him? Was that why—

“I know...” You trailed off, in a drunken state of sickness, “That you don’t love me. But that’s okay. I just... wanted to let you know... because I’m afraid you’ll say no... but if you say no, I can at least move on...”

Staring at you fiercely, his breath hitched in his throat. No? No? He would never say no to you, ever, ever.

“Don’t move on,” Was all he could muster.

Don’t. He wasn’t ready for love, no, he never was—but—

He did not want you to leave.

This action of sickness was finally a catalyst, a catalyst for Xiao to confess to you properly when you were in the right state of mind.

And hopefully—when he does, you will say yes.

xiao only confesses because he does not want to lose you

his karmic binds, the whispers, the screams. he does not want you to get tainted by them—so he is selfish, he is selfish for loving you and confessing to you... but he, he cannot bear to see you go

a double-edged sword, love is. it stabs his heart, skewering it as if it were nothing. it plunges his mind, clouding his thoughts as they fill with you and only you

can’t he just indulge in this fluffy feeling, once?

no—he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve you.

Under the rising stars and floating lanterns, the two of you sit. It is an unspoken love, you both share, it is an unwritten rule that paints the back of your minds like a canvas of colors.

But love—is love. Love is the rainbow that forms in the sky when the rain is over, love is the sun that shines, washing away all of the coldness of the world.

Love is you.

ganyu feels... alone

so when you come into her life like a prospering glaze lily, she wants nothing more than to love you!

but you, confuse her. she is 100% sure you return her feelings, so why do you not seem to be... excited, about it?

To an immortal like Ganyu—love changes. At first, love was for the world, but then it shifted for mankind, and then it moved to... you.

She was no strange to love, in fact, she welcomed it! Ganyu wants to feel as mortal as possible, so when you stumble in and make her fumble for words—she knows she has fallen.

Like a meteor or a person—she falls for you. Everything reminds her of you, every flower and every bird makes her want to talk to you and spend her time with you.

But lately—you have been quite... reserved.

at first, ganyu thinks she is the problem. that she has done something wrong and she is a terrible crush

but then, she hears rumors. rumors about your past loves and how they rejected you mercilessly, how they played you like a marinette doll and caused you pain

to ganyu—that is the lowest any mortal could ever go. but for now, that is not her problem. she wants to help you, to make you realize that you are deserving of love and that you—you make her feel love

she—of course, does not confront you about this directly. ganyu is far too experienced to bring up past conflicts

but, she will subtly make you realize her feelings. with morning and night walks around liyue harbor, with hangouts and ‘dates’ at liuli pavilion...

love... it’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?

“Ah, the food here is certainly marvelous,” Ganyu gushed, enjoying a nice plate of jade parcels as you spared a smile.

“Yes, thank you for this, Ganyu. I know you work a lot and—“

“Of course, [Y/N]. Everyone needs breaks,” The woman returned your kind gesture, eyes crinkling in amusement as your heart pounded so loudly in your chest.

“In all honesty, [Y/N]. I feel quite a connection to you, and though I am aware you are hesitant— I just wanted to let you know that you are loved... by many people, not only me,” Ganyu rested her chopsticks down, making complete eye contact with you as her blue hair framed her face. The black and red horns that adorned her head glimmered—the kindness and delicate features of her nose and lips, her eyes and smile—

Your breath hitched.

ganyu—of course— does not expect an answer right away!

in fact, she thinks it’s quite unorthodox to confess to someone who is afraid of love—but her instincts told her it was right

it was abrupt, she knows. you don’t have to say yes, she knows.

but still, love was a game of chance—just as gambling, betting, anything. love was a game for two

so she took it. she took the chance, hoping that maybe you, you’d say yes.

“I...” You trailed off. You didn’t know Ganyu returned your feelings, neither did you ever imagine she could... Ganyu was half-adeptus, a caliber above you and your mortal-ness! Why would she ever think of you as anything more tha—

“Do not be afraid, [Y/N],” Ganyu’s voice was gentle as she soothed you. She had been here before, she had seen you cry out of a yearning for something you couldn’t have, she had seen your heart shatter and your mindset retract.

“I... like you too,” You responded, you felt light-headed, like you were soaring in the clouds that not even Celestia could bring you down.

Love, love was a gamble. And sometimes, you’d get your heart broken, your soul broken...

But love—it wasn’t so bad after all.

― constellations!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #ganyu x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin xiao #genshin albedo #genshin ganyu #genshin #genshin impact #constellarations

1K notes · View notes

batmans-cheerleader · 2 years

Note

i really love your fic and can’t wait more more!! in the meantime, you you have any recs? not necessarily jason and bruce but batfam

thank you!! and it was so hard to not make this list miles long but here it is!

Stargazer | rated M, 47k | LemonadeGarden

warnings: injuries, violence, ptsd, nightmares

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore.

This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

Asimov's Integral | rated T, 18k | sElkieNight60

warnings: emotional whump, angst, character death/revival, mentioned/alluded abuse & neglect, abandonment issues

Tim is an unwanted android, a Robo-Child. After being sent back by his parents, his last and only hope rests in the hands of a man still grieving the loss of his own son.

“I didn’t ask for a replacement,” Bruce barked. “I don’t want a replacement! You can go back and tell the RCO I don’t need a replacement.”

Bruce Wayne didn’t want him. If Bruce Wayne didn’t want him, he’d be sent back and dismantled.

sometimes you make mistakes | rated T, 10k, WIP | MrMich

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, misunderstandings

The thing was, Duke was almost positive that his neighbors were criminals.

He wasn’t sure they even counted as neighbors. There were way too many of them to actually be staying in the tiny apartment next door and he could hear them coming and going at all times of night, so he was pretty sure about the fact that none of them actually lived there. Except maybe Jason Todd, but he was definitely a criminal, so that was a point in favor of Duke’s criminal conspiracy theory.

Or, In which Duke fights crime, wages a petty war with his criminal neighbors, and entirely fails to put two and two together.

Inbox | rated T, 9k | audreycritter

warnings: grief, loss, angst, canonical character death/revival

When Jason Todd died, Bruce Wayne had a hard time letting go or dealing with any reminders of his son.

When Jason Todd came back, what he needed to know was how much he had mattered. Fortunately, these things overlapped.

Or, the story in which Jason listens to some voicemails for a dead boy— the boy who was him.

Executive Assistant to the Batman | rated T, 76k, WIP | heartslogos

warnings: none

“So what’s someone like you doing working for someone like Wayne?”

“We’re star-crossed,” Tim answers, because clearly this job has only improved his ability to mouth off with a complete and total lack of self-regard.

(Rewrite of my old Assistant!verse)

ballare | rated T, 1.5k | Periazhad

warnings: canonical character death/revival

Jason thinks he's good at being scary by doing the unexpected.

A Meditation on Railroading | rated T, 24k | eggmacguffin

warnings: child abuse, gaslighting, homophobia, hurt/comfort

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own.

Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

cards | rated G, 1.8k | almondrose

warnings: none

steph has to make father's day cards in school & she doesn't care to make one for her own garbage dad, so she decides to do the next best thing:

make cards for batman.

sweet child o' mine | rated G, 4k | Nokomis

warnings: none

Steph said cheerfully, “Bruce, from now on, consider yourself in possession of one Steph-mom.”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said.

Steph took a bite of her cake, undeterred.

Bundle of Joy | rated G, 7k | DawnsEternalLight

warnings: deaging

When Damian is accidentally turned into a baby each of his family members gets a chance to take care of him. Cue adorable baby faces, Dick being delighted, and Bruce surprised at finding out just how much all his kids have grown.

the scientific method | rated G, 20k | orphan_account

warnings: none

5 stupid ways Duke's siblings discovered how his powers worked, and 1 time he figured it out for himself.

"You have no idea," Dick said. "I had to live through all of their teenage years. They were each independently obsessed with Mythbusters at separate points in their life. I'm pretty sure Cass and Tim have wanted a meta to experiment on since they were 14, but Bruce always said no."

#my recs #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #damian al ghul #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batman #dcu #dc comics #batfam #fic recs

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elriell · 3 years

Text

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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mimi-ya · 3 years

Text

set up ~ trafalgar law x monkey d. luffy

2,000 words | lawlu & zosan

a/n: my first character x character for one piece! @ithinkabout-onepiece-alot i hope i did your request justice!!

masterlist

He should be elated. He should be relieved. He should be a lot of things, but Trafalgar Law is only one; confused.

Kadio was defeated. Big Mama was out of the picture. Yes, they had lost many good men, but the Land of Wano was free and he could finally return to his voyage across the Grand Line.

So why was he not as happy as everyone else?

“I’m hungryyyyyy!”

Oh right. That’s why.

Law never expected to join an alliance, let alone with the idiot he watched punch the shit out of a Celestial Dragon. But here he was months later, celebrating the liberation of a country and simultaneous defeat of two Yonkos.

Law will be honest, he only planned to use Straw Hat for his own gain.

Mugiwara-ya was foolish enough to start a war with the World Government, which made him an easy target to rope into Law’s personal conflict with Doflamingo. A fight Law hadn’t expected himself to even come out of alive. But Luffy had helped him defy all odds and bring justice for the man who saved him all those years ago.

And it was as if he was saved again.

Law was ready to die, throw away everything even for the smallest chance to avenge Rosinante. He truly had no self-preservation, not a care that his crew would be captain-less, that he wouldn’t find a cure for Amber Lead Syndrome, that he would never see the One Piece.

But Luffy gave him that back, the chance to do and see any of those things through the end. The strangest part was that Law didn’t feel any excitement because of it. Yeah, they were dreams of his, but they were always so intangible, always fell below something else. Like he knew they wouldn’t actually be achieved, but now that he has the chance?

He still couldn’t say they were his top priority. It was like something else had taken that spot.

Or someone.

“You know, I could put in a good word for you.”

Law is pulled from his thought, searching for the voice he was unsure that was even directed to him. But sure enough, there was Zoro smirking in Law’s direction.

Law feels himself flush slightly, having been caught so openly starring at the fellow captain. Pulling the brim of his hat down slightly and turns away, “What are you talking about, Zoro-ya?”

“I’m just saying.” Zoro shrugs, “I’m his first mate, he trusts my word.”

Law doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Because he wouldn’t even know what to ask for. Instead he scoffs and goes to see if Tony-ya needs any assistance.

“You’re too blunt.”

“Excuse me?” Zoro snaps, glaring at the cook who is leaning against the deck’s railing.

“That’ll work for Luffy, but Trafalgar needs a more complex approach.”

Zoro crosses his arms, “Worked for you, didn’t it?” And he enjoys the way Sanji flushes under his gaze, stammering about needing to start dinner and that marimo doesn’t even know what he’s talking about.

“Yamato, you’re going to love being on the crew!”

Law watches the man fawn over Luffy’s offer, clear joy on his face to be invited to join such a family.

It makes Law angry. No.

Jealous?

Sanji falls into the seat beside him, glass of wine in hand, “Not often someone willing chooses to join up.” Law looks at him in interest but says nothing and Sanji shrugs, “It’s more of an unacceptable fate. Once he decides you’re in, that’s it.”

Law glances back at Luffy who’s now trying to get Yamato to imitate his expression with Nose-ya and Tony-ya, all of who have chopsticks shoved up their noses.

“I’d doubt that he’ll even let you and Eustass go.”

Law doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Blackleg-ya wanders off. Interestingly enough, to be followed by Zoro-ya.

Law frowns.

“A feast?” Luffy’s eyes widen and mouth water at the thought of Sanji’s cooking.

“Of course.” Sanji lights the cigarette between his lips, quickly meeting the stare of the swordsman across the deck, “With everyone, tonight.”

“I can’t wait!” Luffy bounds on his feet, “Will you make the fish thing from that one time? Not the one with the bread though! Tora-o doesn’t like bread.”

Sanji smiles knowingly, “Whatever you want, captain.”

Luffy runs off, excited and looking forward to a feast with all of his favorite people.

“Think you can still handle the rest?” Sanji asks, so in tune with Zoro’s presence that he doesn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know he’s there.

He hears a scoff, “Think you can handle cooking dinner?”

Sanji turns with a fond smile on his face, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because your comebacks are shit.” And he revels in the blush that dusts across Zoro’s cheeks. Neither of them is good at accepting the other’s flirting.

Sanji presses a kiss to Zoro’s cheek who grumbles but accepts it, lacing their fingers together, “Let me cook you something since you won’t be eating dinner, yeah?”

Law is annoyed.

He couldn’t find his crew anywhere. Not on the beach. Not in the Polar Tang. Even his powers couldn’t sense them in the immediate area. So now he’s searching the Sunny, but it doesn’t seem to be with any luck.

“Tora-o! Up here! Tora-ooo!” Luffy is waving at him from the upper deck, a chunk of meat in his hand.

“Mugiwara-ya, have you seen-”

“Hurry up Tora-o! Before it gets cold!” Luffy yells, head disappearing back behind the railing.

Law rolls his eyes, but still makes his way to the upper deck. The smell of fine cooking wafts through the air, which could only mean Blackleg-ya had prepared dinner.

“Tora-o! You’re the first one here!” Luffy is sitting at a small table, piled high with enough food to feed the alliance three times over. There’s only one open chair across from where Luffy is already devouring an entire platter, “Sanji already set out all the food!”

One by one the gears click in Law’s head.

The missing crew.

The table for two.

The cook and swordsman.

He’s been set up.

But it’s obvious Mugiwara-ya can’t see that.

Law can feel his fist clench into fists and he’s sure a vein is prominent on his forehead, but he’s more focused on finding his sword and hunting down-

“I asked Sanji to make fish without the breading!” Luffy says between bites, “I know how much you don’t like bread.”

He’s a doctor, so he knows it’s impossible, but Law really thinks for a moment his heart might burst from the wide smile that’s on Mugiwara-ya’s face.

“Well? Are you gonna eat with me?”

Law awkwardly takes a seat, unsure what to do with himself. It’s for the first time he realizes he hasn’t actually spent that much time alone with Luffy.

Luckily Luffy is good at filling the silence. And all Law needs to do is nod along at the right place, pass the food when asked, and hope he doesn’t make too much of a fool of himself.

“Ahh!” Luffy sighs, falling back against his chair with a full stomach, “It’s too bad no one else showed up.”

“But then you would have had to share the food.” Law says, eyeing the empty plates.

“Shi shi shi! You’re funny Tora-o. But still,” Luffy leans against his hand with a pout on his lips, “I thought this was gonna be our goodbye feast.”

A chill runs down Law’s spine, “Goodbye feast?”

“Well yeah! Sanji always makes a big feast before we leave an island. But I guess this means he’ll just have to make another for everyone else! Shi shi shi!”

“Right.” Law trails off, staring at the ocean so he doesn’t have to see how casual Luffy is thinking about them parting ways.

“What’s wrong, Tora-o? Do you not like Sanji’s cooking?”

“What if I don’t want to say goodbye?” Law rushes out in a single breath, eyes flicking nervously to Luffy.

Luffy cocks his head, “Well you can’t come with me. We can’t have two captains.”

Law refrains from pinching his nose but can’t help the irritated sigh that leaves his lips, “I just- I like you, Luffy.”

“Shi shi shi! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my name! I like you too, Law.”

Law feels his breath catch in his throat. Luffy is looking at him with that grin so wide he has to squint his eyes and it’s making Law feel all warm inside. God, if Corazon could see him now.

“Why else would I join your alliance?”

And just as suddenly it’s ripped out from under him. He’s just able to hide the crestfallen look that settles on his face by jumping to his feet, turning away, and is ready to shambles straight to the Polar Tang and never come out again.

“Tora-o!” Arms wrap around his shoulders and almost falls face first when Luffy collides into his back, “Where you off to?”

“Let go of me Mugiwara-ya.” He grits out between clenched teeth.

“Aww, I liked when you called me Luffy.” He smushes his face against Law’s cheek, “Say it again, Tora-o.”

Law feels his stomach swoop again, and he’s too confused with his thoughts and Luffy’s body pressed against him to think straight.

“Shambles.” Law replaces himself with a chair that Luffy is now clutching too.

“Hey!”

“Do you even know what I mean when I say I like you?”

Luffy shrugs, “Well sure, that you like me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Mugiwara-ya.” Law hisses, rubbing a hand down his face, “You drive me crazy with everything you do, but I can’t stop thinking about you.” He stomps up to Luffy, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him to face level, “And I don’t want this alliance to end if it means I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

And with that he harshly presses his lips to Luffy’s, eyes screwed shut. Luffy’s lips are dry, and he can taste the food from dinner. But it’s perfect, everything Law imagined and more.

Law pulls back, panting harshly from having spilled his guts and the dramatic kiss. And then it hits him what the hell he just did, horror dawning on his face. Law’s fingers loosen and he drops Luffy back to his feet, “I- I didn’t, I’m-”

“Shi shi shi!” Luffy clutches his stomach with laughter, “Tora-o, if you wanted a kiss, all you had to do is ask.” Luffy wraps his arms several times around Law, slamming his body to against Law’s chest.

“Oh.”

Luffy looks up at him with a smile, “What did you think I meant when I said I like you?”

“Was the rope necessary?”

Zoro looks over his shoulder, “I told you I would handle it, it’s handled.”

Sanji sighs, feeling sorry for the Heart Pirates and Straw Hats that were all knocked out and tied up on the floor of the crow’s nest. He had given Zoro the simple task of distracting everyone for a few hours to allow their captains time to enjoy dinner.

But this is definitely not what he had in mind.

“And look, it worked.” Zoro says smugly, looking down at the two figures leaning against each other near the ship’s railing.

Sanji joins Zoro at the window, “Huh, I suppose it did.”

“What, you didn’t think we could do it?”

Sanji pulls a cigarette out from his pocket, “Didn’t think it would be this quick.”

“Well not everyone is as dense as you were.” Zoro plucks the cigarette from his lips before it can be lit, “You know I don’t like when you do that.”

Sanji scoffs, “As if you were any better.” Trying to reach for the cigarette Zoro holds above his head, who uses the opportunity to pull Sanji flush against his body with a smirk on his lips.

Sanji rolls his eyes, leaning his head in the crook of Zoro’s neck, knowing defeat when he sees it.

However, their moment is broken when the sound of groaning fills the room.

“You gonna deal with that?” Sanji mumbles against Zoro’s skin. But Zoro just shushes Sanji, engulfing him in a hug and basking in the moonlight that shines down on both couples.

#law x luffy #trafalgr law x monkey d. luffy #lawlu #zoro x sanji #zosan

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

out or in

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, both implications of sex and brief explicit sexual content, mostly fluff

summary: a collection of moments about always choosing the ones we love

It’s a romantic little outing – a walk to the park, flowers tucked behind ears, a gazebo by the pond. Santiago looks good with flowers in his curls, and they stick well. He’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he thinks of the two of you hung the stars, and his broad shoulders look void of weight in the evening sun.

Will can’t keep his hands off of you, which is strange, but not unwelcome. He keeps running his hand through your hair or pulling you into sudden hugs, and it makes Santi smile.

The three of you are waiting for Frankie and Ben to come, settling into the white benches and enjoying the dappled lighting that sways with the vines overhead. Your Ironhead practically pulls you into his lap as your other lover goes in search of ducklings. Watching him, Will kisses your temple, your cheek, the side of your neck.

You close your eyes, just for a moment. It’s mandatory, really, because these moments are few and far between. Soft noises from the nature around you, smells of flowers and the musk of your lover, and most of all, his open affection. When was the last time his confidence overrode his calculating brain?

When you open them again, a woman is walking by, chattering on her phone, and her heels slow when she catches sight of Santi.

The pillars of the gazebo shroud you from her, and Will holds you tight as you watch her hang up, a twitch in her hips. You miss her greeting, but not the way Santi turns towards her, his face polite and neutral.

“I’m just here with them,” he waves and points, and you see an incorrect realization on her face as she glances shrewdly. The two of you are wrapped up in each other, his hands wandering even still – she thinks she knows.

“So you’re the third wheel?” the woman all but purrs, eyes fluttering in a way that makes you roll your own. So fixed is she on the warm tone of his skin and the stubble across his jaw, that she misses both the darkness of his eyes, and approaching footsteps.

“Not at all,” his words are simple and you grin.

“Like hell you aren’t,” Benny says, slipping an arm around his Pope. They came up less than quietly, watching without your patient interest. Will huff’s a laugh, almost proud at the kiss and raised eyebrow his brother gives the woman, who’s stepping back, suddenly uncertain.

She turns to Frankie, mistakes his soft edges for vulnerability, and changes targets. Hes handsome as a warm fall walk, and she drinks him in. All shy backtracking and twirls of hair, she reaches for his arm, playing all the right cards for sympathy.

But his eyes, deep and brown are unwavering as he shifts away. You see his mouth move – a quiet nope, with a p that pops, and the both you and Ironhead shake with silent laughter.

No one explains as she sputters and spins, trying helplessly to say have a good day, and as she near runs away and you feel a little guilty.

Mostly, though, you feel lucky as you see your eager boys making their way over and loved as they’re already reaching for you.

“That was fun,” Will pulls Frankie close to replace your warmth. Arms around Santi's neck you laugh again, feeling matching rumbles at your front and back.

“We should go out more often,” Benny says, resting his chin atop your head. You can hear the mirth in his voice, but of all of them, he thrives in awkwardness the best.

“Great idea, Ben.” Frankie doesn’t even have to roll his eyes.

“It’s fun confusing people,” the blonde defends, pulling back to flap a hand. Of course he thinks so, and of course Catfish disagrees.

“As long as the people who aren’t confused are us,” Will catches Santi's eye, and you feel him rumble again, squeezing you.

“I agree.”

Will walks in to see you completely on top of Frankie, sleeping against his chest. It’s a welcome sight, after a long, long week, and his layers shed as Frankie beams at him. The smile is void of gloating or even teasing, filled only with a hard earned joy. He loves the moments you crash into him, drawing out the weight on his mind and replacing it with you.

“That seems a little selfish,” his watcher teases, his deep, dry voice making you stir a little.

Frankie pulls an understanding face and shifts, letting you slide between him and the back of the couch, opening up for the other man. Your eye peaks open long enough to see Will’s smile, before you feel him, warm and close.

He’s taller, but it’s a practiced fit, and the couch was bought specifically for all of their width and height.

The man beneath you let’s out a groaning breath, like the weight of one of his loves hadn’t been quite enough. Silence fills the air, thick and warm as cocoa on a chilly evening, the three of you taking slow, indulgent sips. Hands rub shoulders and slide over unwinding muscles before they still, thankful for the heartbeats just beneath the surface.

And then the moment slides away, as Frankie remembers a story from work – his excitement is contagious. His deep eyes are bright, the lilt of his voice exaggerated by the animation that fills him head to toe, and you climb over them to find a glass of water. You'd already heard the story, and you need to wake up for the evening.

Santi’s in the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket, and hes pulling you by the hip into his arms. His skin is cool from their air outside, and he seeks your warmth with playful pleading, rubbing his nose along your cheek, your neck, and blowing puffs into your hair. The squeaks you make only spur him, happy kisses following the pre-made path, and he laughs, really laughs, for no real reason.

“Come,” he says, after finding your lips once more, “it’s almost time.” And you wake fully, checking the clock. He’s right, and both of you rush back to the others.

Ben’s fight is on the screen, and your boys are sitting, telling you for the thousandth time how rude it is that they cut off spectators.

“I know, I know,” you shush Will with your mouth, a chaste, chiding kiss, and he softens, pulling you back down. The sleepy satisfaction is long gone, dissipated by his talk with Frankie, and their inevitable excitement as they traded bits of wisdom. Now, it’s time to watch his brother, and to feel the bones in your hand creak as Frankie winces at every punch.

The fight is a short one, and you’re almost glad you didn’t drive an hour for it – your sweet Benny hardly gives the other guy a chance. He blows a kiss at the camera, and Santi says, “Mine,” before sticking his tongue out.

“How do you know?” Frankie protests, reaching over to smack him.

“Hush, he’ll call in just a minute,” you scold, snipping a budding argument, and rolling your eyes. “You can ask him then, if you want.”

You were right – and he called you, probably well aware of the bickering he caused. Speakerphone is mandatory, as deep voices shout their approval.

“The kiss was for all of you,” he says. “Minus Will.” He rolls his eyes, as Frankie makes a triumphant noise.

Over the responsive banter you change the topic.

“How soon will you be home?”

“Why baby, the whole crew there, and you still miss me?” Tonight’s win had gone straight to his head.

Will appears behind you, rumbling, his hand sliding up you shirt in a single, fluid motion.

“Watch yourself,” he said, loud enough for the phone to catch it. “I’d say we’re doing just-"

“- Fine,” the others catch his drift, lowered eyelids and knowing smirks making their way around. Just as fluid, Frankie pulls at you, settling your core over his thigh, his dark eyes asking for permission. Denying him is unfathomable – their touches already perfectly placed and hot.

The gasp leaves your lips before you even think to stop it.

“Fuck,” Benny’s voice is lower, even through the phone. “Don’t you dare!” The command falls flat, his damage done. Bra shoved away, Will rolls a nipple between his fingers as Santi’s hand palms you through the fabric as best he can, always eager to join the torture.

“Hurry up then,” he adds, watching you grind and melt beneath them, knowing the other man is already regretting his words.

“No fair!” you hear the slam of his locker and grin, already too far gone to stop their antics.

Frankie coaxes you off his thigh, hands busy as he began to rid your of your clothes. You’re slick with want, holding whatever you can brace yourself against, as they lovingly remind him what he’s missing.

“Would you rather we let you listen, hot shot?” it’s both a taunt and an offer, and you see wide eyes and feel eager twitches.

There was a moment of silence, before Benny’s curse cracks into the air, needy and nearly breathless.

And you’re suddenly glad you got a nap in earlier. If the last five minutes are any indication, it’s going to be a long night.

“No, but thanks for checking again,” you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. Benny is using his best puppy eyes, even pulling down the thick scarf his mama gave him to pout at you.

“But I made us the coolest fort, you said so yourself!”

“My love, it’s cold.” You respond, kissing his surprisingly warm cheek. “The others have already tried.”

You wave at Will over his shoulder as he packs yet another snowball for their war. A hit to the back of the head is a fitting distraction, and Ben kisses you quickly before he runs off to his corner of the yard.

And as much fun as it could be to watch, you close the door to the freezing air, knowing if you don’t, the next one will be coming for you.

You end up by the window, catching glimpses through the thick white frost, as you Google new winter recipes. And you’re thoroughly wrapped up in a distraction when a hand slips into yours

“Oh, hello,” you grab at it, trying to warm the fingers between your palms. “Too cold for Catfish?”

He nods, sighing as you try to thaw him.

“Come,” you say, leading him to the kitchen. He’s like a bear, lumbering after you, thickened with winter layers, but with meek obedience and eyes filled with adoration.

“Cocoa, love?” it’s hardly a question.

“Please, Frankie?” He kisses you in confirmation, seemingly growing even lager as he glows with pride. No recipe you’ve ever found gets the spices as perfect as he can, and it’s his joy to brew if for you all.

Before, though he turns the kettle on, heating water for the bottles, knowing any moment what will happen. And he’s never wrong. The door opens with a gust of chill wind, making snowflakes cling to their winter beards.

Just as the hot water bags are filled, and the rest finds its way into a footpan, Santi trudges through the door, huffing with laughter but with spikes of pain shooting from his knees. You help him settle into cushions, resting his joints, as Will and Benny tumble in, shedding soaking layers and telling you the final battle.

Passing out steaming mugs you kiss their cheeks and they know the truth – adventures should be taken and fun should be had, but nowhere was better than right here with you.

It happens rarely: waking up perfectly encompassed by your loves. Someone’s elbow was always poking or beard would tickle, and the first to wake would inevitably wiggle and jostle limbs.

But when it does, it’s bliss.

Your tucked into Will’s side – his beard is soft and smells like books and clean linens and the way it feels when rain pours down after weeks of drought.

Frankie is behind him, pressing close, and Santi is near a second skin, he’s sandwiched you so tightly. You can the shape of Benny beyond Frankie's fluff of hair, and for once, you don’t feel the need to move. Deep breathes a contented mid-dream murmurs push away the reminder that one of you must leave – a least for long moments.

But then you notice the pace of the heart beneath your hand, and prepare yourself for the rub of his jaw along his temple. Your Will would never risk the movement of kissing you before he knew you were awake.

“Good morning,” your voice is barely audible, just for him.

“I love you,” his response is just as quiet, but equally filled with love.

Neither of you says anything else, just shifting ever-so-slightly to kiss each other, unable to resist. Then you settle again, cherishing the squeezes and pacified rumbles, and dreaming of drifting off again.

You know he won’t - can’t, with a stupid Saturday meeting on it’s way, but you wish he would. All of you hate when he’s robbed like this, hate that he has to count down the minutes and then untangle himself and climb away. Feeling his heart race pick up again, you know he’s anxious. It goes against his nature to disturb, to break a perfect moment.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Benny groans, quiet, but not quite so in-control. “Here.”

He flops, pawing the end table before finding Will’s phone and tossing it to him, before settling forward against Frankie again. The whole time his eyes barely opened more than a hair, awake exclusively for the greater good.

A small, conflicted noise grumbles in Will’s throat, but then, to your amazement, he frees a hand and begins to draft an excuse.

“Tell them it could be an email,” Santi’s voice is thick with sleep.

“Because it could be,” Frankie adds, reaching for the phone. His eyes are puffy, wincing at the brightness, but if Will doesn’t call off the meeting, someone has to. Huffing, the man beneath you snatches it back, making incomprehensible comments about how he’s the only one who knows what to say.

You shift to kiss him again, shocked in spite of yourself. All this time, he’s never called in sick, no matter how deeply he’s been tempted. But more proud than anything.

It’s a perfect morning – too good to spoil. He sends it and tosses his phone, satisfied sighs and sleepy high fives making him chuckle. And you pull the blankets back in place, tucking in the joy for a few hours more.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina

#triple frontier poly fic #poly frontier #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales x reader #benny miller x reader #smut #barely

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