#“i still remember how it felt” /ref

[jadelemonadee]

H😭😢☹️😢😭☹️😭😭😢😢😭☹️😢😢☹️😭😢😭☹️😭😢😭☹️😭☹️😭☹️😭☹️😭☹️😭😢😢😭☹️😭☹️😭☹️😭😢😭😢😭😢😢😭

[redgearsmovin]

[ID start: Various digital sketches of Imagination Movers characters: Nina, Dave, Scott, Smitty and Rich. End ID.]

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (Part 1)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: After months of a toxic back and forth with Frido, things reach a breaking point.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I know it's been forever but that's what being a full time uni student will do! I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I do, its been a wip for a while now!

As usual this is all fiction and in good fun! Nothing is meant to represent reality. All italicized dialogue is in a language other than English, and I promise... things will get better in this fic eventually.

Warnings⚠️: unhealthy situationship lol, injury, light medical description

"Get out!" You screamed, repeating it over and over until you were alone in your bedroom.

You hated yelling. Absolutely hated it. You couldn't remember the last time before today that you had actually yelled in someone's face. Plenty of people in your sport lost their tempers and shouted on the pitch—whether at a ref or another player—but it wasn’t your style. You always managed to keep your cool. It was your sport, yes, but not your life.

You'd been yelled at too much as a child to think it had any productive effect on a situation, which may have been part of why you immediately felt horrible once Fridolina left the room. You pulled your comforter around your half-naked form, wishing you were less exposed.

This was the end. Whatever you and Fridolina had, it was over. Finally.

You'd been trying to build up the will to make this happen for weeks, and yet your heart felt like it was being strangled with every moment you sat here alone. The worst part was, you knew Fridolina didn't care. She was probably angry, sure, but she was not feeling the heartbreak you were.

You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the next few days. You had to fly to Germany tomorrow for national camp—and then on Friday you were playing Sweden in a friendly. It was hard to imagine that you had been excited to get the news about the friendly last month. It meant you got to be around Frido more, got to see a few of your old teammates from Chelsea like Magda and Zećira, and you genuinely enjoyed being around the German girls. It was still home to you, there, even if you hadn't played for a German league in nearly a decade.

Now you just wanted to stay in Barcelona while Frido left. You wanted to call Alexia, or Patri, and ask them to come over and comfort you. You wanted Patri’s jokes and Alexia’s solid presence, but you were afraid of the questions they might ask. Your eyes were red now, tears running down your face, and your room was a mess. Everything had a trace of Frido, and you hated it.

Ingrid and Mapí, who you would usually call if you wanted to get your mind off of things, weren’t an option either. Though you were fairly certain they wouldn’t ask any pressing questions, Ingrid was Frido’s best friend. And that made her off limits for now, for anything regarding this.

You just had to make it through the night, and the next morning. Then you could collapse into the familiar arms of your national teammates, your family, your language, and try to forget all about this.

—

Your mother knew something was off the second you appeared on her doorstep, Laura in tow.

She wrapped her arms firmly around you, holding you tight for a minute. It had been three months since you were home for Christmas, and you hadn’t seen each other since then. You melted into her, wanting nothing more than the comfort of her protective embrace after all that had been swimming around your head lately.

Your mother greeted Laura next, and you were instructed to bring your bags up to the guest room. You’d have to share, but it wasn’t all that big of an issue. You and Laura often shared rooms when you were at national camp anyway, so this wouldn’t be much different.

“Wie ist Barcelona? Gefällt es? ” Laura asked you quietly that night, rolling over in the bed to face you.

It was late, too late to still be up. Tomorrow you’d have to be at training bright and early.

“I love it there.”

Something about your voice must have been off, because Laura stayed silent. You knew she fretted over you. She was protective too, something you experienced first hand when people were rough with you on the field—Laura hated most of your exes too. You’d known each other since secondary school, when you were barely tall enough to reach the top of your lockers.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s difficult, fitting in with the Spanish girls…”

“And I’m shy, which doesn’t make it easier.”

Laura laughed lightly.

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything!”

You poked her side playfully, and smiled.

“They’re all very welcoming. It can be intimidating when you don’t speak Spanish at first, but I’m pretty good now so I don’t have many issues.”

Laura began playing with strands of your long hair, putting it in small braids.

“What is it, Lau?”

“I can tell something is bothering you. In your texts, the way you looked when I picked you up at the airport, something is off.”

You weren't sure what to say. Laura didn't know anything about you and Frido. Nobody did. You'd have to explain the whole thing, start to finish. You'd have to explain why you stayed even when she treated you like garbage. Why you made excuses for her, compromised things you told yourself you wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain…" you mumbled.

Laura continued to play with your hair, pushing a few wisps back from your forehead.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

You needed an ally in this, you realized. Desperately.

"Just be prepared, it's kind of a long story."

And so you launched into how you and Frido had been attracted to each other immediately when she was playing at Bayern and you were at Frankfurt. How you had danced around each other when you were signed in Barcelona. How she kissed you one day after a game, before she was even out of her relationship, and then ignored you for weeks—a pattern you didn't realize was going to dominate your life for the next year.

By the end you were crying. You hadn't cried in so long it felt foreign. Everything had been building up for months and nobody had been there to help you carry the weight of it until that moment.

Laura pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back in soothing circles as you sobbed into her neck.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered.

"I feel like a fucking idiot."

"She's the idiot for treating you like that, not you. Not you at all." Laura looked at you sternly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that all by yourself…"

You snuggled closer to her and kept quiet.

"If you need someone to accidentally slide tackle her on Monday let me know…" Laura teased.

You giggled into her hair, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

-

You were nervous. Typically friendlies didn't worry you much, but you didn't want to see Fridolina. You had been playing well in training sessions, but your teammates could tell something was on your mind.

"Hey—" Sara's voice broke you out of your thoughts. The two of you had played together at Frankfurt for a little while, and she was like an older sister to you. She placed both her hands on your cheeks and pressed her forehead to yours. "Whatever it is, put it out of your mind. Leave it here and just play. Just for a few hours."

You closed your eyes and listened to her, letting her voice ground you. You squeezed her hands and nodded. Just a few hours. Then you could avoid Frido for an entire week before you had to fly back to Barcelona.

You assumed your position on the pitch, the roar of the German fans filling your ears. That was the benefit of playing at home. You spotted a few of the Swedish girls you knew: Magda, Zećira, Stina, and Rebecca. All of whom gave you small smiles.

In the few seconds before the match began you closed your eyes, counting down from seven as you always did before a match. Then the whistle blew and you began.

It was a tough match between the two teams. Where the Germans were weak the Swedish girls pounced, and vice versa. You were constantly fighting for the ball, the defenders packed onto you. Stina was the first to score, slipping the ball into the box amidst a chaotic mess just the way she was good at.

From there on out you were determined to score. You were playing all out, more than necessary really. It was a throwaway game, but you just had to get a point on the board.

When your quick pass to Lena had the ball soaring into the back of the net you thought you might explode from joy. You jumped into her arms, letting her twirl you around, laughing. In your head you might as well have won the Olympics.

At halftime it was still 1-1. Your heart was pounding. Laura made you drink some of your water, massaging your shoulders in an effort to get you to calm down. Popp was side eyeing you, considering pulling you out. This behavior wasn't like you.

The second half was considerably more intense than the first. Both teams wanted to score, and the more physical players on both sides were pushing hard. It was a miracle nobody had been carded.

And then suddenly you had the ball at your feet. There was a golden opportunity in front of you. Eyes facing forward, you raced down the pitch, completely blindsided to the weight that slammed into from the side. Suddenly the world went sideways and you were slamming into the ground, not enough time to even think about trying to catch yourself. Your hip and shoulder took most of the initial impact, but something about how you'd been standing, or how you'd been hit, meant your head followed, hitting the ground with a resounding thud.

You came to a few seconds later. Someone was kneeling next to your head, and their hands were on your cheeks.

Fuck. Everything hurt. You kept your eyes closed, thinking maybe that would lessen the next wave of pain you knew was coming. At first you weren't sure what had happened.

"Are you okay?" You heard Zećira's voice in your ear.

"Zećira?" You mumbled. "What happened?"

"You went down and hit your head."

You had gone down near the goal, that was right. Things were a bit blurry. You figured it was a bad idea to move your neck, what with the severe headache you could feel blossoming, and opening your eyes seemed to run the 50/50 chance of you vomiting.

"Do you remember that now? Do you feel okay?"

So you gave her a weak thumbs up, hoping it was clear you needed the medics.

After a moment in which you gathered your resolve and swallowed your nausea, you opened your eyes. There was Zećira looking worriedly down at you. She glanced upwards, probably at the medical team that was surely coming.

"Fuck, fuck…" you heard another voice, those of your German teammates beginning to filter into your awareness. And further away, the sharp sound of yelling.

The medical team finally arrived, clearing the space around you. Your hand shot out, grabbing onto Zećira's you gave her a look that said it all. Fear and panic met in equal amounts as she squeezed your hand lightly.

"You're gonna be okay, älskling, everything is gonna be alright." If anything, her tone scared you even more. You knew Zećira, and she wasn't someone you would describe as warm and cuddly. For her to be using that tone with you meant something had gone wrong.

"Okay, we're gonna sit you up now." The medic warned you, and you felt two pairs of hands rest on your body, one on the back of your neck, slowly pull you upright.

Your nausea came back in full swing, and you fought to keep your breakfast in.

"Can you hear me?" You nodded.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" You nodded again, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Can you squeeze my hand?" You squeezed his hand tightly.

"Okay, I'm gonna shine this light in your eyes for a moment, can you try and follow it for me?" You did your best, but it wasn't easy.

"Okay," he put the light away and you thanked whatever God in the universe for that. "We think it's likely you have a pretty bad concussion. We'll have to run a few more tests to be sure, but she definitely has to come off."

He must've been talking to your coach at that point, because the next thing you knew Zećira and the medic were helping you up to your feet, the man supporting you heavily with your arms draped across his shoulders.

"I'll visit you after the match, okay?" You heard Zećira assure you, to which you gave another thumbs up.

You cringed slightly at the sound of the crowd cheering you off.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅?

⊱✿⊰ summary: the overblot aftermath except yuu has my personality lmao

⊱✿⊰ warnings: book 2 spoilers, lowkey bullying leona (but nice), yuu is reader, fully self indulgent, fluffy tho, like a few refs to reader being small cuz im smaller than even ruggie so yeah. Thats like the only physical depictor i think

⊱✿⊰ notes: i had this dream last night and boom bam i made this. I think its preppy and also its lit ny personality and also leona is like 😍

your eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright fluorescents adding to the dull ache in your head. as your vision adjusted you realized you had quite a few people surrounding you. ace and deuce and jack and grim? what happened...?

"what happened?" you muttered out, sitting up in the...cot? you were in the infirmary but why? the last thing you could remember was playing the special round of spelldrive and grim mentioned something about a special move.

"at the beginning of the second half grim threw the disc at your noggin and knocked you out." ace answered barely concealing his snort, "don't you remember?"

"no i don't remember." you grumbled, narrowing your eyes in a glare. ace gave you an apologetic smile that you weren't sure held any real sorry in it.

"i was trying to aim for victory!" grim exclaimed, pumping his fist up. he smiled widely at you and plopped into your lap. despite your annoyance you curled your arms around him, letting him snuggle into your chest.

"you amateurs need to work on your throwing skill." jack replied with an eyeroll.

deuce quickly interjected with a gentle smile, hoping to ease any tensions that might appear. "i for one am glad you're awake! i was scared the hit did some real damage."

"true, you were asleep so long you even missed the closing ceremonies. they're taking everything down now." ace said, still trying not to laugh. evem through your annoyance you couldn't really blame him. it did sound kind of funny that you got hit by a disc because of grim's terrible throw.

"which dorm won?" you asked suddenly, words falling from your lips hurriedly, "how did savanaclaw do?"

even with leona being so underhanded you still wanted him to get what he wanted. he just wanted to feel like he was good enough, something you could relate to heavily. you hoped none of them could tell the way your face warmed with your rambles. maybe you could blame it on pain meds..if this place even had them.

suddenly that growly rumble of a voice filled your ears, leona saying, "diasomia won, unsurprisingly."

your eyes jumped to where leona was, him and ruggie in cots side by side. leona looked goregous, with his long hair still braided and a few bandages scattered across his dark tanned skin. you really ought to focus instead of fangirling over his looks like a silly school girl.

"there was nothing we could do to stop it." ruggie added with a sigh, looking slightly more healed now, "it didn't help that we took a beating from every other dorm before we got to them."

you winced sympathetically, unsurprised the other dorms had gotten their revenge out during the game. even still you felt bad, but perhaps that was your annoyingly empathetic heart talking.

"housewarden! ruggie!" jack exclaimed, turning his body around to see the others in their cots. you slowly sat up, ignoring your dizziness in favor of getting the chance of getting closer to leona. you are surely going insane, why were you wanting to comfort leona after everything he did? why were you wishing to kiss his hurt away in front of your friends no less.

leona tsked, his arms crossed over his hardened chest as he said, "being stuck in the infirmary for anything other than a mid-day nap is about as lame as it gets."

his eyes wandered over to you and you felt your body warm, self conscious about the way you look. you could feel that your hair was a bit tangled and your clothes were slightly frumpled, making you wish leona would suddenly forget you existed. did he think you look bad? you looked at your hands, trying to cease your racing heart.

"and what's worse? none of the diasomia kids ended up here." ruggie pouted, his ears flattening aganist the top of his head. you felt your lips quirk in amusement, finding the small boy's annoyance kinda cute. he reminded you of your friends from your world (though that thought suddenly made your heart feel heavy.)

ace nodded and started talking about the head of the diasomia dorm, apparently being a major powerhouse. you didn't doubt it, seeing as half the guys at this school were insanely large or annoyingly good at magic. they still scared you, seeing as you were neither of those things.

"with that attitude you're never going to beat them." jack said with his fist clenched, all good old determination, "i didn't beat them but i will next year! i'll do anything it takes."

"does 'anything' include your capacity for evil?" leona asked with a slightly malicious grin. you felt mildly deranged for wanting to kiss it off of his face.

"have you learned nothing?" you asked, fighting the urge to get closer. once his grin widened, deliciously evil glint in those pretty brown eyes you felt your resolve wavering.

so you did get a bit closer, sitting on the chair beside his cot. he didn't seem displeased with your proximity as he said, "i didn't realize this was an after school special."

you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past your lips, eyes lighting up with amusement. he was insufferably wonderful. "i didn't realize you knew so much about those after-school specials."

ruggie interrupted with his infamous laugh, making you feel suddenly aware of the way you were sort of flirting with leona. you backed up and looked shyly away, grateful your friends didn't seem to notice the way you had been half tempted to settle your and leona's debate with kisses.

"there's the leona i know!" ruggie said, making jack roll his eyes. jack reminded you of captain america if he was part of the omegaverse, but the boy's brain might explode if you tried explaining that to him..

"i can already tell this won't end well." jack muttered with a slight shake of his head. you felt your lips curve into a grin at the same time as leona. even though you most definitely didn't want leona try to cheat his way to the top you also liked his...ambition. you were far gone.

deuce, ace, and grim chimed in talking about how they wanted to play in the tournament for real next year. a small part of yourself wondered if you'd still be around by next year or if crowley would have found a way home for you by then. then you quietly wondered whether you would return to your old life or stay in your new one.

suddenly a little boy with red hair bounced into the room, jumping onto leona without a care in the world. your eyes widened, surprised by the freaking kindergartener entering the infirmary. he was adorable and sort of reminded you of your younger cousins, who were all around his age.

"unca! there you are! i finally found you!" the child giggled, hugging up close to leona. leona looked shocked for a moment before his face relaxed to his usual pissed off look and he hugged the kid back.

"unca leona...?" jack mumbled, matching your confusion. all the boys seemed equally confused that this tiny person was calling leona uncle and cuddling up to him without getting beat into a pulp.

"this is cheka, my brother's son...my nephew." leona explained boredly, ruffing the boy's hair. your eyes widened, reeling at the sudden revelation.

"so this is the next in line for the throne." ruggie said in a low tone, amusement filling his expression. you were still shocked this adorable little baby was leona's nephew.

"unca! i saw you play, you were sooo cool!" cheka giggled, his hands tapping against leona's shoulder in a badly attempt at rhythm, "teach me how to play pleaseeeeee!"

"fine, fine just stop screaming in my ear." leona grumbled, plucking cheka off his body and putting him down. which made cheka notice everybody around, particularly you.

the tiny redhead ran to you, jumping onto your lap. he was very similar to your cuddly baby brother so it was easy to just wrap your arms around cheka and let him hug you. you giggled, amused by leona's nephew.

leona was about to protest, and you could have sworn you saw a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. it gave you the smallest glimmer of pride, close enough to the third year that you saw the tiniest details.

"so the source of all leona's anguish is..." jack began, struggling to understand what was happening. everybody was to be quite frank.

"this innocent angel." you finished for him, ruffling cheka's hair. cheka giggled and squirmed in your arms, eyes wide and happy as he looked at you.

"shuddap, all of you." leona grumbled, "stop gawking."

you grinned and couldn't help the way you decided to sit on his cot beside him. you were small enough that you could fit on the bed at his side. cheka seemed happy by this decision because he could now crawl freely between you both.

despite leona's annoyance, he wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from falling off the cot. ruggie raised his eyebrows in silent shock, probably surprised to see his big scary upperclassmen cuddle with the random girl who just appeared at the school.

cheka rambled incessantly, asking questions and talking to leona. cheka seemed to idolize leona, making you wonder if he realized that. does leona know how much cheka loves him?

ruggie was laughing like a maniac at the new side of leona they had all discovered, probably wanting to use this as blackmail. you did think it was funny, but it was also freaking adorable seeing leona so soft. leona nuzzled his face into your shoulder, glaring at the first and second years all laughing their heads off.

"are these your friends?" cheka asked, turning around to look at them all. then he looked back at you, "is she your girlfriend?"

"oh for sure. we're besties with leona." ace grinned, even happier when cheka asked about your relationship with leona. you felt your cheeks warm, lips opening to deny the assumption.

but leona didn't give you a chance as he grumbled, "i won't forget about this."

though the boys were still amused they decided to leave, laughing and talking about "unca leona". the older boy glowered, tightening his hold on your body. hell even ruggie left, feelinf well enough to leave the infirmary for a moment.

"you gonna marry her?" cheka asked, bouncing on leona's stomach. leona groaned and pulled the kid off of him, so he wasn't treating the third year like a jungle gym. cheka glanced at you and added, "what's your name?"

"my name is [name] but everybody calls me yuu." you said, ignoring his first question and especially ignoring the way your heart throb at the idea. it was silly, you were a teen and thinking about marrying leona.

leona also ignored the first question just mumbling out a quiet, "furball always trying to start stuff..."

suddenly cheka jumped up, hearing the voices of his attendants. the little redhead ran away as quickly as he came, probably going to cause more chaos. he really was lucky he was so adorable...and the fact he was a prince.

being alone with leona made you acutely aware of the way he was cuddling you. his arms wrapped around your waist and his tail curling around your shin. he was warm, his firm body pressed aganist your back in such a comforting way.

"i didn't say this earlier," he began, his low timbre full of the beginnings of sleepiness, "but im sorry for hurting you when i overblotted. i didn't mean for you to get involved."

you blinked with surprise, your heart stalling as a lump in your throat. maybe he really did feel remorse for what he did, the thought sending a flutter of excitement through your tummy.

slowly you turned so your front was against his, faces inches away. you were both laying down on the small cot, his strong arms keeping you steady and grounded.

with that delightful dizziness in your head, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. he froze, soft gasp of surprise falling from him. his arms tightened around you, squeezing the skin on your waist.

"its okay, leona. i'm not mad." you replied softly, gifting him your forgiveness like you were sent straight from god. not that you knew if he even had a god in his world. perhaps even without a god, you wondered if he knew how to worship one. if he might worship you like you were one.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Through Thick and Thin 🟨

Katie Mccabe x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗; (reverse) comfort 🫂💕

summary :

Katie struggles with guilt after being suspended for defending her teammate.

The news hit you like a punch to the gut. Katie was suspended, and you could hardly believe it when the notification popped up on your phone. It wasn't like her to get into trouble — well, not this kind of trouble anyway. She was fiery, passionate, and never backed down from a challenge, but that was part of what you loved about her. Still, you knew she had crossed a line this time, and now she was paying for it.

You drove over to her apartment after training, knowing she'd be there, stewing over what had happened. Sure enough, when you stepped inside, Katie was on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. Her lips were set in a firm line, jaw clenched. She barely acknowledged your presence as you sat down beside her.

"Katie," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She finally turned to look at you, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling in her eyes — anger, frustration, and maybe even a bit of guilt. "There's nothing to talk about, is there? I messed up," she snapped, her voice harsher than usual. But you didn't flinch. You knew she wasn't angry at you.

"You didn’t mess up," you said quietly. "You were defending your team."

Katie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, and now I’m suspended for it. Some captain I am, huh?" She ran a hand through her hair, clearly agitated. "I just... I couldn’t let them get away with it. They were taking cheap shots, and the ref wasn’t doing anything about it."

You knew the incident she was talking about — it had been all over social media. Katie had gotten into a scuffle with an opponent after a rough tackle, and though she wasn’t the instigator, she had retaliated. A little too aggressively, perhaps. But knowing her, she was just standing up for her teammates, like always. That was Katie’s way. She was fiercely protective, even if it meant putting herself in harm’s way.

"You did what you thought was right," you said, inching closer to her. "I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same if someone was trying to hurt my team." You gently took her hand in yours, squeezing it. "But that doesn’t mean you have to carry all this on your shoulders alone."

Katie’s eyes softened a little at that, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I just hate this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I let everyone down."

"You didn’t," you insisted. "No one thinks that. If anything, they know you’ve got their back, no matter what. And right now, I’m here to remind you that I’ve got yours."

She was quiet for a moment, processing your words. Then she let her head fall back against the couch, closing her eyes. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," she murmured.

You smiled, relieved to see her slowly letting down her guard. "Luckily, you won’t have to find out," you teased, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her temple. "Now, how about I make us some dinner, and we watch something that doesn’t involve football? Just for tonight."

Katie opened her eyes and turned to you, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, alright," she said, a little more relaxed than before. "I could use a break from thinking about it."

"Good," you said, standing up and pulling her with you. "Because I’m not letting you sit here and wallow all night. We’re in this together, remember?"

As you made your way to the kitchen, Katie followed, finally looking a bit more like herself. "Thank you," she said quietly, and you knew she wasn’t just talking about dinner.

"Always," you replied, glancing back at her with a grin. "Now, come help me. I’m not letting you get off that easy."

She chuckled, and it felt like a small victory. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but you knew that together, you’d get through this. After all, that’s what love was about — standing by each other, even when the world seemed to be falling apart.

[val-cansalute]

𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟸

summary: two years later, ellie’s back in jackson. from what you’ve heard, she’s not exactly been doing great either.

warnings: angst with no comfort yet (ITS COMING I PROMISE), you’re in another relationship (ellie gets kind of jealous…), vague ref. to drug abuse and addiction

an: sorry this took like five years, as always, love you guys, stay safe, never stop talking about palestine. do your clicks. :-)

chapter 1

TWO YEARS LATER

There should probably, definitely be a lot of things on Ellie’s mind right now but, truthfully, the exhaustion flooded them all out.

She’s been sitting next to Tommy in his shitty, busted, old truck in the densest silence she’s ever been in, hurtling her way back to the place she was damn sure she was never going to see again just a few months back, and all she can think about is how badly she wants to close her eyes and finally fucking sleep, but he keeps throwing out questions randomly, and Ellie feels obligated to answer them all given the fact that he just picked her scrawny ass up from rehab following almost a year of no contact.

She takes in a sharp breath of air. It doesn’t rattle her lungs as much as it used to. Then, she swallows, forcing a gulp down the dry enclosure of her throat, and turns to look at Tommy.

“Hm?”

“Am I taking you to ours or yours?”

“What?”

“Jesus- Am I driving you down to Maria and I’s, or are you gonna go back to your old house?”

Ellie’s brain stutters.

The impending situation is suddenly becoming too real.

You were starring in the film in her mind ever since the one-way flight to LA, and every time you came up on screen, she felt her stomach wrench with longing, with guilt.

She was far from home, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people who’s faces were unfamiliar and, quite frankly, scary. She had no idea how the fuck she ended up where she did, but she knew that the thoughts she needed a distraction from required remedies more concentrated than whiskey.

The last few months were especially shit: stuck in that building with junkies who would be back in just as long as they stayed, with nothing to do but sit with every last one of those thoughts.

Joel’s death had beaten her to a pulp; she was only just beginning to be able to talk about him, to draw him, to remember him, without all the anger and all the all-consuming guilt. Only just beginning to do that after the absolute shit-show her life became for a long moment. Yes, Joel’s death beat the hell out of her, but she herself delivered the finishing blow.

There is a lot of guilt in Ellie’s life, towards Joel, towards Tommy, towards her friends, towards you – more than she can bear for this lifetime and maybe the next few too. So, like she promised herself, there’s no use in any of it. All she can do is just focus on each day and try to make things right where she can.

The question plagues her mind, the one she has absolutely no right to ask, of whether or not you’ll be there, whether or not you waited for her. She doesn’t know which would be worse.

“Mine.”

Tommy nods, glancing at her before shifting his line of view back to the road and Ellie lets out a small puff of air. She hopes things can go back to how they used to be between the two of them one day. Joel’s death also beat the hell out of Tommy. In fact, Ellie was slightly surprised to hear that Tommy’s place was “Maria and I’s” again, since they weren’t exactly on good terms when she left, divorced and all.

“Do… Do you know if… she’s still staying there?”

He goes quiet, dropping the coy exchange of practised words and turns to look at Ellie for longer than what’s considered road safe.

“… Honestly, I’m not sure. Haven’t seen her in a while. But, come to think of it, I must’ve heard someone mentionin’ some’ about her stayin’ with someone for a while... You, uh, you sure you’re gonna be okay goin’ back to yours?”

“Yeah… I mean… It’s gotta happen eventually.”

Tommy nods, breathing out,

“That it does,"

And Ellie reclines into the hardened cushion of the seat, pressing her cheek to it to rest, gazing out at the familiar sequence of buildings blurring by. She thinks she should probably drop by Dina’s tomorrow.

Ellie’s become mythical. 

“I just got a text from Jesse…”

You look up from your screen at Dina, who is sprawled out across from you on the couch. She sits up, all serious, and the look in her eyes tells you she knows you’re not going to like what you’re about to hear.

“He said Ellie’s coming back to Jackson.”

Sometimes you have these… dreams, if you can even call them that; nothing about them is hazy or dream-like, just… like your mind opens up a part of itself that you keep closed when you’re in control and forces you to look at it.

You’re lucid every time, of course, even your subconscious knows that it’s impossible for Ellie to be near you, to be smiling at you the way she used to.

No. She walked out and didn’t look back. And, in all honesty, you can't even blame her for that. Not when she was falling apart back here just the same. Not when she wasn't even herself anymore, when the thoughts got a hold of her.

When you open your eyes, you can’t bring yourself to look at your girlfriend laying next to you. She feels like a stranger who sleeps in your apartment sometimes.

Your mind strays, and you wonder if that’s how Ellie felt about you. Then, you close your eyes again and try to soothe the nausea that inevitably builds in your stomach - flex your fingers to remind yourself that you're a living, breathing person, who can’t just rot in sheets, clinging to morsels of sleep.

When Ellie left, there was a massive gaping hole in, not just your heart, but your entire life. You tried to stay put in the house but, God, it was painful. The dusty trinkets she left behind lining the desk alone were like totems of your one-man cult devoted to her.

You packed all your shit soon after, leaving Ellie’s exactly as it was.

At first, crashing at Dina’s place was a temporary fix, but it turned out you desperately needed the company and Dina loved having someone around to bother too. Things got better slowly, or at least they stopped hurting as much.

So, every day, you stumble out of bed and get ready for the shitty little job you got to make yourself feel human again, kissing the girl you’ve been fucking around with for way too long, and then waving goodbye to Dina as you go.

You’re rebuilt, no longer in pieces like you were when she left. In fact, your mind doesn’t look back on her much anymore, but there are traces of what she did to you in everything you do.

The way you put yourself back together, it’s a bit twisted up, not quite the same. 

Dina’s eyes never leave yours, gaze firm in its preemptive empathy, though there’s not much use. Your mind must have malfunctioned; there’s not a single emotion playing out in it right now but there absolutely, definitely should be. You’re just not sure which.

After a tense moment passes, you hum in feigned pensiveness.

She was playing bigger venues is what you heard – sold out shows, collaborating with artists she used to dream of meeting, getting into scandals and posting snapshots of her new, flashier life, or at least her manager was.

You knew Ellie, and you were well aware that she felt like a phony doing shit like that.

But, then again, you thought you knew she wouldn’t leave you for LA too.

A while back, it was radio silence. Her posts stopped, the new releases ceased abruptly, and it was as if she had vanished, dropped off the face of the planet.

Rehab is what the shitty gossip threads were saying. The things you began being told every now and then were hard to hear: she was foaming at the mouth, being seen in a random state thousands of miles away with little recollection of how she got there, drunk off her ass again at an awards show. Shards of glass, cutting through the fragile peace you'd built.

At the time, it still impacted you, of course. She was once your girl. But you were forced to look it in the eye: the fact that she was in the worst shape you’d seen her in when you came across images of her online, with sunken cheeks; yellowed, bloodshot eyes looking emptier than ever, and dry, chapped lips. Fuck, it made your stomach writhe with pain. She was still suffering, only scraps left of who she used to be.

Not that you expected anything other than deterioration.

Dina inhales sharply, nodding as she struggles through the wording of the question she’s about to pose,

“…How are you feeling?”

It doesn’t matter though. None of that matters, because you’ve moved forward. You live in a different neighborhood, with different hopes, a different job, and a different girlfriend.

“…I’m not exactly gonna welcome her with open arms, if that’s what you’re expecting. But, you know what? I’m okay.”

Different.

She nods again.

“I mean, it’s been a long time, D. I’ve moved on.”

Dina smiles at you reassuringly, and it pisses you off because why is she reassuring you? You said you’re fine, didn’t you?  What reason is there to be all empathetic?

“Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I mean, it’s completely normal to feel… upset, I guess, even if you’ve moved on. She was still super important to you for some time in your life, even if things didn’t exactly end well.”

“Yeah… Well, I don’t really wanna see her, but I hope she’s doing better.”

She doesn’t know what she expected, but she couldn’t stay in that house.

The first step in was cautious, casting hesitant glances into the darkness in the hope that she’d catch a glimpse of something that would tell her you’re home, before she took notice of the hollowness.

Everything was spotless and your things were gone.

The display case with your tea set was empty, the little trinkets on your bedside table were nowhere to be found, your side of the closet was barren, and every trace of the life you shared had disappeared. The house seemed to be cocooned in a layer of dust, preserving only the imprint of Ellie.

You’d left the duvet and a pillow tapped up for her on the bed you shared if she ever did come home, but that bed is too big for her alone now.

Ellie turned around and walked out, leaving it all behind again. She wasn’t sure where to go, though she was positive she needed to be alone, away from all the people she’d hurt. Away from all the damage she’d done.

So, she walks till her muscles ache out to a motel on the other side of town, praying the dark keeps her face hidden enough from anyone who might recognize her and makes a nest in the stained sheets and matted carpet floor, because she much prefers this discomfort to the one in that house. Alone with her thoughts and the mechanical whir of the AC, she doesn’t want to cry; she doesn’t have the right to, but when a tear escapes, the dam breaks. At least it helps her sleep better.

The night passes like a flash and daylight filters through the grimy motel windows, past Ellie’s tired eyelids. She stirs awake, rubbing a hand down her face groggily, and lays in the haze for a while.

She’s supposed to see Dina today. The only friend she really ever kept in contact with while on her long ass bender and throughout her stay at the facility was Jesse, because she couldn’t bring herself to face Dina, not when she was in that state.

She has absolutely no idea what will happen, and it’s terrifying. But she can’t deny that she feels a deep-seated anxiety that can only be satiated by asking Dina about you, though the questions themselves haven’t exactly been decided on yet. She thinks she’ll quickly tire of having no idea what will happen but she doesn’t have much of a choice, so she slinks out of bed and trudges over to the sink to freshen up before setting off.

After confusing the fuck out of a half-deaf old man at Dina’s old apartment and a text exchange with one of their mutual acquaintances, Ellie finally shows up at what she really hopes is the right door and delivers a series of three shy knocks.

When the door is opened, she is immediately overtaken by a wave of warmth and the scent of freshly made pancakes. She still has a hard time getting food down but, honestly, she’d start drifting through the air towards it if she were in a cartoon.

Then, she looks up and, for a moment, her face falls at the sight of another unfamiliar face, but her eyes catch a glimpse of someone else across the apartment and Ellie’s heart stills.

You stare down at the text Nathan just sent you with guilt-ridden relief. A family emergency means the café isn’t going to open today, so you don’t have to go to work.

Feeling happy that Nathan has a family emergency makes you feel a little ashamed too, because Nathan’s a standup guy, but you didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night, and getting up to go to work with the tiresome deadweight of your eyebags is the last thing you need right now.

In truth, all that has been on your mind since that godforsaken exchange with Dina on the couch yesterday is Ellie, and the night following was a restless one. You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling with a permanent furrow in your brow that was making your face ache, unable to quiet the torrent of memories and emotions in your mind, feeling like you were back in that house again, trying to sleep the night after she walked out.

You tossed and turned, grasping pathetically for comfort, but every position felt like suffocation. In your dark and still room, you felt like you were going to rupture with the pressure of the whirlwind inside you against the confines of your skull.

Each second dragged out longer than the last. Each second, you remembered what it felt like to be with her and then to watch her fade, and it was all so vivid, so inescapable. You’re not even sure if you can call it longing, because what settles in your stomach feels a lot more like anguish, distress, a desperate hope for her to be in a better place. You so badly want to believe you’ve moved on from her, but the truth is so glaringly obvious that you can’t even turn away from it, so you just close your eyes.

You don’t want to think about her today. You’ll do anything to not think about her today.

You guess it’s a good thing Dina set off early because even the sight of her would’ve reminded you of Ellie.

Instead, when you glance to your left at the rustle of bed sheets beside you and see Alexis rubbing the sleep from her puffy eyes, you smile softly and try to feel some semblance of warmth at the fact that you can just laze around with her for now.

Alexis smiles back, groggily stretching the arm tossed over your waist and running it gently along your side.

There is a sinking in the pit of your stomach, though, at the realization that things are getting very domestic for something that was supposed to be ‘casual.’ You know now more than ever that you cannot handle that.

When she leans in and works her lips on the crook of your neck, mumbling,

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” you take it as your queue to sit up, shifting away from her.

“Good morning, babe. I got the day off, so I think I’m gonna start on breakfast. You want anything?”

Normally, she’s the one who makes breakfast, but you try not to acknowledge that the guilt of your impending split pushes you to take the reins this time.

Alexis crosses her arms behind her head, watching intently as you tug on some pants and states,

“You know, I’m kinda in the mood for pancakes.”

While she clears up the scattering of wrappers discarded along the couch from the evening before, you set up at the stove, and for the first time in a long moment, the feeling is golden, laced with the gentle timbre of Sade’s voice spilling from your phone as you put on your playlist and keep an ear out for the hiss of the coffee machine.

Your love is king, crown you in my heart.

The wall buzzes from the beat of a knock at the front door, but Alexis is already up on her feet, clarifying that she’ll ‘get it.'

Your love is king, never need to part,

You lift your head to offer a greeting from behind the kitchen island to the visitor and the air is choked out of your windpipes instantly. Around you, the noise and color fades to grey so all you can hear is the echo of your own heartbeat and a shrill ringing pounding in your ears, the blood rush making it feel like your whole body is palpitating.

Your kisses ring round and round and round my head,

Across the room, the air between you becomes charged and strained with the weight of the years that part you, the memories that became dust, crumbling beneath the pressure of careful fingertips.

Touching the very part of me, it’s making my soul sing,

You’re suspended in the memorial waves like cicadas in amber, before Alexis breaks the spell, glancing between the two of you perplexedly,

“Uh... Hey?”

Tearing the very heart of me, I’m crying out for more.

You reach out and pause the song, your eyes meeting the text Dina sent just a few minutes prior.

𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢

𝚓𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝

𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗

You take in a sharp breath of air, inflating your figure before you look back up at the wide-eyed girl standing in the doorway, whispering a weary,

“Ellie…”

Ellie doesn’t quite catch it, pushing out a softer than intended explanation in the face of people looking at her like she is an alien.

"I... I came to see Dina."

You nod, slowly, unsurely, fingers curling around the edge of the countertop. When you’ve finally mustered up the strength to speak, you respond,

"She’s gonna be out for a while. You can wait inside."

You’re surprised by the harshness in your tone.

Ellie presumably is too, lingering in the doorway for a moment, and the tension in the room is palpable, so Alexis, makes up an out.

"I gotta go… grab… something,”

The auburn-haired girl’s gaze follows her as she leaves, before she quietly moves into the room, clicking the door shut behind her with a tightened jaw. She thinks that maybe if she stands still enough, it’ll be like she’s not even there, like she doesn’t even exist, but when you bring Alexis’ mug of coffee to the table by the couch for her to drink, you pull the chair out wordlessly, eyes held fast to anything but Ellie’s, before going back the stove to turn it off.

"Who's she?" Ellie wants to ask. She’s not an idiot, so she doesn’t.

Instead, she sits down quietly, watching you with weary eyes.

Ellie doesn’t look so gaunt anymore. At a certain point, she couldn’t even recognise herself when she looked in the mirror. She’s still too skinny, hair dishevelled, eyes red, and her face is littered with small scars and the remnants of a black eye, but you can look at her without wanting to break down now, or at least not for the same reasons.

You say a silent thank you to whoever’s out there looking out for her and then turn around to face her.

“I… I’m sorry, I should’ve… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t kno-”

“It’s fine, Ellie.”

A beat passes before she looks up at you, eyes wide,

“How… How have you been?”

You try to take in air without it catching as you respond, keeping your eyes on the counter.

“I’m okay.”

“Good… That’s good.” Ellie picks at a loose thread on the hem of her sleeve, chewing at her bottom lip, “I’m sorry.”

It comes out a whisper, breathless, and you close your eyes before saying,

“You know what, Ellie? It was hard at first. Really hard. I got really lonely, and I missed you a lot. I tried to make it work in that place and it just didn’t. But its been 2 whole years. I’m… I’m not the same...”

“I really am sorry. I fucked up- I should never have gone to LA. I never should’ve-”

She takes a moment to breathe, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to work through the explosion of thoughts, wishing she’d just kept her mouth shut, wishing she’d had more time to think of what to say, wishing she’d just stayed in that fucking motel room.

“I should’ve tried harder to get better…  I-I know that… it might not be possible, but I checked myself into rehab, and… and I want to try to make things right… I just- I don’t want to live like that anymore, I don’t wanna be alone anymore-”

You let her speak, the lump in your throat growing painfully as you watch her fumble sadly through her words.

“I know we can’t go back to how things used to be- I just… want to make things right and I don’t know how or what that means but-”

Alexis walks back into the room, making her way over to Ellie with a tight-lipped smile before she can finish what she wants to say.

“Sorry, had to go do that thing. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Alexis, she must’ve told you already but I’m her girlfriend.”

Ellie looks up at her with wide eyes,

“Oh.”

She holds her hand out to shake and Ellie takes it before reclining into her seat silently, staring at the wooden table in front of her.

Suddenly, it has become very apparent to Ellie that she lost her place in your life a long time ago, as a friend and as a partner, and she feels like an alien again.

She clenches her jaw.

“It’s… Uhhh, it’s nice to meet you too but I should get going. Dina won’t be back for a while so there’s… no point in sticking around.”

You think of stopping her, of telling her to sit back down, but you know this is for the best as you watch her scramble to her feet, looking like a kicked puppy, and walking back out the door.

Things will never be the same. You can’t go back to how things were, and your head knows you shouldn’t trust Ellie’s words.

But, when she sat in front of you at that table, telling you she didn’t want to be alone anymore, you thought you saw something you haven’t seen in a long time, a sliver of your Ellie. Of her old self, of her resilience, of her will, of her love and hopes.

And you so badly want to believe you’re over her, but the truth is looking you right in the eye, and some supermassive weight has lifted off your shoulders.

“Dude, was that literally Ellie fucking Williams?!”

[madhatterbri]

Challenges | D.P.

Summary: If I may request - Liv holds a celebration for herself in the ring & calls out Dom to join her but instead it’s Fem!Reader (ex member of TJD who still has a soft spot for Dom & feelings for Damian). She calls out the lack of open challenges since Liv’s been champion & Liv should focus on finding a challenger rather than a “daddy”. Liv thinks the reader is jealous & hits a nerve when she brings up Damian..then all hell breaks loose. Thank you.

Requested by: anon

Author's Note: I am digging Liv currently. 😂 Please do not see this as me hating on Liv. Also, did you send me this before Monday cause um... this happened with Zelina, didn't it? Anon, spill who gonna win MITB so I get some money? 👀

Damian Priest Masterlist

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @theworldofotps

"Come on out, Daddy! I have new gifts for you," Liv squealed in the microphone and giggled. She twirled the microphone in her hand. A silence hung in the air. An entrance theme played in the arena, but it wasn't Dirty Dom's.

Y/N walked down the ramp with an extra pep in her step. The funny business with Liv and Judgment Day had to stop. She may have been an ex-member, but she still cared about them. Well, mostly Dom and Damian.

"You must be confused little ho, ho, ho. This isn't Christmas time," Y/N told her. The crowd laughed as Liv rolled her eyes. She entered the ring and stood in front of her. "Although I can see why you are confused. You have been living on the high side of life, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry. I want to talk to someone who is a current member of The Judgment Day. Not the one that no one remembers was in the Judgment Day. Go back to your little lonely hole now," Liv smiled and waved her hand to shoo her along. Y/N slapped her hand away.

"I'm here looking for a fight. You. Me. Next week on RAW," she demanded. The crowd cheered. "I beat you, and you stay away from Judgment Day for good,"

"Why would I do that? Unlike you, they want me around," Liv shrugged and smiled.

Y/N sucked her teeth and looked at the ground. She looked up at her once more. "If you want to be Little Orphan Annie looking for a daddy, then give me the title. I'll be a fighting champion,"

"You care a lot about a group that kicked you out. Stalker much?" Liv asked. Her eyes widened, and she put a hand over her mouth. The horrible fake laugh emitted from her body. "You can't still be into him after everything that happened, right?"

Y/N felt herself blush. She was the only one who knew about her crush on Damian. Now, it sounded like she was going to announce it to the world. Liv saw her nervous reaction and knew she had to go for the kill.

"Leave them alone and fight me. Let me give the title the respect it deserves,"

"Why? Are you jealous of this?" Liv asked and looked at the championship belt on her shoulder. "Or are you jealous of something else? Do you think this will help you get Damian? He doesn't want you, Y/N,"

"It isn't him,"

"Seriously, it's been years. Move on. He doesn't want you. He made that painfully obvious when he didn't keep you around," she sneered.

The crowd quickly turned to her side. Y/N glared and paced in the ring. She suddenly lunged at Liv. The microphone in Y/N's hand connected to the current champion's head. Liv fell to the ground.

Y/N quickly jumped on top of her. She grabbed the blonde's hair and started to punch her. All the hurt she experienced over the past few months started to bubble over. She told her in secret about her crush on Damian back when she returned to Royal Rumble. She never expected her to admit it.

As expected, the refs and security guards ran out to separate them. Adam Pierce stood at the top of the ramp with a microphone. He was telling the women that this wasn't how RAW conducted business. The championship match for next week was granted. Meanwhile, the two women continued to fight to reach each other.

[ericshoney]

Sports Kid ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your apart of your schools lacrosse team and your brothers come to see you play.

Warnings: usual swearing, nicknames, minor injury.

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

Growing up you loved sports, especially seeing your older brothers play different ones and growing up with four older brothers did have an impact on you. When you turned thirteen, you joined the girls lacrosse team after seeing Chris and Matt play.

When your brothers found out you joined lacrosse, worry crossed their minds quickly, knowing how they would get injured a lot, especially Matt, but as they knew you were happy, they did everything to support you.

With them being in LA, they didn't always get to see all your matches, but always called to check in afterwards. However this time, the triplets were in Boston to see you play.

You had been at school earlier than your family for practise, but when you saw your parents and four brothers turn up, you couldn't help but smile and run over.

"You all made it!" You exclaimed, hugging all of your family.

"Of course kid, wouldn't miss it while we were here." Nick said with a smile.

"I better go before coach has a fit." You said, making them laugh.

They wished you luck before you rushed back and re-joined your team. Other people soon turned up to start watching as well as the opposite team, but when Chris realised what school showed up, he wasn't happy.

"Oh shit." He mumbled.

"What?" Matt called.

"Look who showed up." The youngest male replied.

Matt looked over and his eyes went wide seeing the coach. He remembered going against that school before and going home with very bloody knees.

"Well girls lacrosse is a non-contact sport." He said, trying to ease his and his brothers worries.

Chris nodded and chatted with Justin while they waited for the game to begin.

Soon it started. You put all your effort into the game after hearing what your coach had to say about the other team. You noticed one girl who had a determined look on her face, so you kept an eye on her.

About fifteen minutes into the game, your team was up by three points. You smiled with your team but knew you still had to keep your head in the game as it was far from over.

As you ran with the ball, you passed to one of your teammates, only to be slammed to the floor. You heard the crowd shout, especially your brothers.

"What the fuck!" Nick shouted.

You stood up, brushing the grass off your body, seeing a few grazes on your skin. You then felt someone shove your shoulder and saw it was the same girl as earlier.

"What is your fucking problem!" You shouted.

She ignored you as she was pulled to the side by the ref. Your teammates came to check on you, making sure you were okay. You watched as the ref went and gave a foul to the other team, the player who hurt you, being sent off.

You smiled and soon the game continued, nobody else was hurt and when the game was over, your team won by five points. You all cheered together before rushing to your family.

"Fuck kid, who knew you were this good at lacrosse." Matt said.

"I did, well done honey." Your mother replied.

"That's my girl." Your dad said.

You smiled as they hugged you, Nick checking the faint grazes on your arms and legs.

"They don't hurt." You said.

"They will when you clean them." Justin replied.

You laughed and went to get your stuff before heading home for a long hot shower and dinner to celebrate, happy your whole family could see you play.

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for alessia where the reader gets badly injured during a match and alessia completely over reacts during trying to protect and look after reader

Hovering

Alessia Russo x reader Drabble & Request

-> Reader gets injured, Alessia loses it, and turns into a nurse

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Derby’s were always different matches than the usual – feistier, more brutal. There was a real passion behind it. And this game was no different. Arsenal against Tottenham, the north London derby. The training sessions were even more intense than usual, and the speech Leah gave in the changing room was terrifying. While the blonde couldn’t play, still out with her ACL, she was still a Gunner through and through – so she sat at the sidelines, shouting words of encouragement.

Standing in the tunnel you could feel the tension, it made you nervous. While most loved derby days, you didn’t – they were scary. Your lovely girlfriend knew it, trying to get you to sleep until three in the morning, whispering calming words into your ears as she rubbed your back in a soothing motion. Now, standing behind you, she rested her bigger hands on your shoulders – weighing your nervous body down.

The crowd was electric while walking in and through the entire first half where Less had scored a gorgeous goal – the halftime speech mainly consisted of encouraging words to further the lead by a goal or two. Everything was going fine until Arsenal was given a corner kick.

Steph was the one to take it – and now the only thing you remember was hearing Katie shout out a ‘you bitch!’ as you went down. Your entire face hurt as a metallic taste filled your mouth. Dazed you sat on the ground as everything escalated around you.

The medics were talking at you, pressing a towel against your nose, and lighting a lamp in your eyes as your conciseness started to fade.

It felt like a dream when you woke up in the medical room, surrounded by your teammates, who were quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Amore! You’re awake!” Your girlfriend sat up next to you, taking your hands into hers. Your eyes were hazy, the brightness of the room needing you to hold a hand in front of them. It was Kim who turned the light off, sitting directly in front of the switch for it.

“What happened?” Alessia nearly cooed at your croaky voice, feeling sorry for you. After looking at her a bit closer, you noticed tear streaks on her cheeks. With shaky hands, you reached out to wipe the new tears away, as she gave you a tight smile. “You jumped for the header, but got pushed into the goalpost by a Tottenham player.”

And just like that, the pain in your nose returned – as you went to touch it, Less caught your hands, taking them into hers once again. “Still made the goal though. And Russo got a red.” Kyra laughed as she remembered how your goal went in, going to hug you, just to see you lying on the ground, with a bloody nose and absent eyes.

With shocked eyes, you looked at your girlfriend, who looked way sheepishly. “W- What? Alessia?” Other than expected, the girls started cheering  - quickly stopping when their striker's angry gaze met theirs. Katie patted her on the back like a proud older sister, who had gotten her sibling into trouble. “Russo here can get feisty. Some nice yelling at the Ref, pushing players – Slapping a bitch…”

You nearly thought that you had misheard the Irishwoman. “You slapped someone?” The blonde knew that she really was in trouble now – so did everybody else as they quietly laughed. “Amore – she pushed you! You were bleeding a-and I couldn’t help myself so I- I…” She gave up, seeing your raised brow.

The team girls stayed for a while as a doctor came and explained your bruised nose, chipped tooth, and very annoying concussion.

Seeing your pain and Alessia’s longing eyes Kim decided to gather the team and go home, leaving the blonde on your bed at your side before she took you to your joined home again. “I was so scared, Amore.” Now it was your turn to coo, kissing her puffy cheeks, tasting the saltiness of her tears on your lips. “I know baby. But you didn’t need to get a red. I appreciate your protecting me very much, but it wasn’t needed.”

Alessia spent the rest of the evening hovering. Helping you in the bath, helping wash your hair, helping you get out, making dinner, helping you change, and helping you get ready for bed. And as much as you tried not to say anything, it felt suffocating.

“Alessia?” You were lying in bed by now, while Alessia ran through the room, trying to think of things to make your night better. “Hmm?”

“If you wake me up in the night – I’ll kill you.” Your girlfriend gulped nervously, hoping that you were joking.

After two hours of restless sleep, Alessia was still awake, she woke you up again. “I’m sorry Amore, but I need to check, you know that.” You did know that. But you were still annoyed.

Throughout the night she was met with various harsh responses to being woken up – but she handled them like a champ, knowing that you loved her – you were just tired and in pain.

Alessia couldn’t help but hover for the next days, having taken off from training as well.

While it was annoying, you wouldn’t change it for the world, enjoying your time together even if you weren’t feeling so well. the striker would never regret that red card, content to have you by her side, nursing you back to full health.

[millyrocking]

a summary (with some colorful commentary) of great rivalries: bret hart and shawn michaels

-i have to mention that bret is wearing a black button down that’s open enough for you to see his chest and shawn’s button down has no sleeves.

-bret’s hair has lightened up to a nice honey brown here. it looks good.

- bret and jim liked working with rockers from the start because they were fast and had great athleticism

- shawn thanked bret for being nice abt his past as a rocker.

- the rockers bad behavior was often excused because they were great in ring performers.

-shawn comes off as very anxious to me. i don’t know if it’s because of bret or having to speak about his past behavior but he’s fidgeting a lot.

- shawn always looks to bret when he’s talking but bret looks at jim ross almost the entire time. he glances to shawn here and there.

- bret remembers EVERYTHING. im so sorry but i take his word over shawn’s any time.

- bret: “shawn and marty had that sexy boy kind of look”

- shawn said that the rockers and hart foundation were a good pair up because hart foundation didn’t down them for being small like the other guys did

- bret could do a verbal telling of the history of wwf from 84-95 seriously. his memory is impeccable.

- bret being so upset abt the rope breaking during the rockers vs hart foundation title match — telling the ref and everybody to stop the match so they could fix it

- the match went to hell and bret said it was the first time he was lost in a match — bret was so sick about the rope 😭

- bret and shawn had the first ladder match in wwe history plus fun fact it was bret who brought ladder matches to wwe bc they did them in stampede wrestling

- bret was camera shy when he was starting out in wwf

- the way shawn looks at bret when he’s talking aww he’s locked in

- from 80s to early 90s — bret said it transition from the dinosaurs to the mammals

- bret always gives shawn props on how good he was in this interview which is nice bc i guess shawn really needs to hear that specifically from bret

- before wwf — shawn was taught to destroy rivals and be cutthroat but wwf was more obsessed with how big you are — the bigger you are in size, the more status

- shawn and bret got along from day 1

- it was curt (hennig), bret and shawn as a little trio back in the early 90s

- bret said him, curt and shawn used to play baseball with an axe handle when they had down time 🥺

- bret considered shawn one of his besties, shawn visited his kids (early 90s) — i posted an interview excerpt about this from bret

- it’s scary that back then wrestlers were all drug addicts to varying degrees — bret and shawn have lost so many friendships over drug use and death wow

- bret often went to bat for shawn to upper management— always put in a good word for him to vince

- bret said shawn was one of the best athletes to come into wrestling

- bret always wanted to pass the torch to shawn. it was always in his plans.

- i think maybe shawn was so pissed with bret because he wanted to be bret’s equal in the business and not the guy who’s running behind him to get the baton?

- shawn and bret drew close to each other because they shared a common value: no matter the crowd and circumstance, work as hard as you can

- shawn: “people would be surprised at how many events there were where it was shawn and bret celebrating together”

- while bret was winning belts, shawn was struggling with drug issues — then the kliq formed

- iron man match — bret and shawn were still friends but drifting slowly

- bret liked kevin nash and thought he supported him during his tenure at wwf

- shawn turned babyface and came in bret’s babyface lane — a spark of friction here

- bret felt that him being champion meant nothing to wwf, felt he was a placeholder for someone else to get the belt and felt disrespected because he’s turning out classic matches and getting nothing for it - yet shawn put out less work and gets handed the belt — animosity kinda started there — bret felt upper management wasn’t treating him right even though bret thought he was more over than he ever was

- so bret sorta left

- bret didn’t feel like shawn was interested in sharing the wealth, wanted to keep it for the kliq — told bret he had plans to basically only work w the kliq — shawn doesn’t remember this convo allegedly but doesn’t doubt he said this

- shawn: the futurist — the business needed to get edgier — he’s kinda tony stark coded to me

- bret: the traditionalist — VERY steve rogers coded like i can’t make this shit up 😭

- bret felt he was the leader of the locker room — most wrestlers voiced their concerns to him — bret the den mother

- what kinda pisses me off is i feel like bret never got to be the super megastar that he should’ve been like the rock, stone cold, hulk hogan, john cena were — he should’ve been THE quintessential 90s superstar wrestler (he probably was and since i wasn’t born yet i just dont know)

- hitman fans are an oppressed group. they were always screwing over his character 😭

- bret and shawn choreographed the iron man match together— bret’s so happy abt this match because it went perfectly. went exactly the way they planned.

- shawn called bret the next day or so to thank him

- the 2 min overtime was a work — we should all know that

- shawn’s attitude after the iron man match — pushing earl away when he’s clipping the belt, no handshake was a work

- shawn told earl to get bret the hell out of the ring — bret didn’t have a problem with this, just felt it was a speed thing — just something that came out to get things moving and keep time

- after the match — owen called bret and said the locker room really thinks you and shawn hate each other bc you didn’t shake hands — bret loved this heat because it would create good money for the both of them

- shawn and bret had a convo abt their heat being a work

- bret was proud of shawn’s champion run in 96 — thought he did a good job

- bret planned to throw jabs at shawn when he returned in oct 96 as a work so he could play the bitter and disgraced ex champ who’s coming back to get what’s his

- clip of a fan calling bret a pretty boy (i agree)

- i swear shawn never finishes a sentence. real.

- shawn’s wild asf for saying “stu hart is dead and walked around calgary as if he’s still alive” in 97. im sorry if i were bret id wanna beat his ass any chance i got too 😭

- i think their worked heat turned into a shoot (using all the terminology) in summer 97 bc of their promos — they were talking too much shit about each other it started to get kinda real

- bret negotiated the biggest contract in wcw at the time

- shawn and his “knee injury” — no one believed it and im sorry i dont either 😭 — bret was upset bc he thought shawn was being selfish and putting more work onto the guys to carry the company while he does backflips in his shorts and loafers

- my theory is shawn faked this knee injury to get out of dropping the belt to bret at wrestlemania xiii — probably felt pissed about him having the biggest contract, hailed for saving wwf ratings, being able to take a long ass break (even though technically bret’s previous contract ended) and come back to be top of the card

- but its okay because bret vs stone cold at wrestlemania xiii is a classic — my second favorite bret match — i think him and shawn’s iron man match is my all time fave

- bret said something about shawn’s parents being embarrassed about the playgirl shoot — this set shawn off

- shawn said for some reason he really wanted bret’s pat on the back, his validation and affirmation

- bret thought him and shawn were always on the same page about their fake heat

- bret felt shafted by shawn for the wrestlemania switch, felt shawn let the company down

- all the things bret ever said about shawn was strictly about his character

- bret and shawn would work out what they were gonna say about each other (in 97) and shawn would be like “great 😄👍🏼” but then bret would come back into the locker room and shawn would be like “😢” while everyone was like “great work bret! 😁” — shawn smiles and laughs as bret says this

- bret thought the “pat on the back” that shawn was looking for was incoming, all he wanted to do was build up shawn and make him even bigger than he was. bret knew his time was coming to an end and always had plans for shawn to be his successor but bret admits that he was way too realistic with the heat and it ruined his and shawn’s relationship

- shawn felt that him and his character were one, attacking shawn michaels the wrestler, the kayfabe was attacking shawn the person

- bret didn’t like shawn’s stripping in the ring as a babyface then him bringing kids in the ring to dance with him — bret felt it was wrong — they had a light disagreement here

- shawn didn’t have the capacity at the time to put his feelings aside for business because he felt insecure about his public perception

- bret just wanted to get money with shawn, he feels horrible for damaging the trust between them — didn’t understand how much heat he had with shawn until the sunny days promo

- bret probably wouldn’t care too much about the sunny days comment if his kids and family weren’t asking him if he’s cheating w sunny

- i think the actual start of the real beef was “bret’s announcement” promo where shawn sweet chin musics bret into his wheelchair —- bret went on too long because he couldn’t hear his cue in his headset due to the noise of the crowd so he made them go off air and shawn didn’t get to do the kick before the cameras cut. shawn was LIVID about this bc he felt bret did it on purpose to humiliate him and be able to berate him live with shawn not being able to retaliate.

- shawn says him and bret would have convos where bret would say “just trust me” but felt bret had it out for him and this promo was proof so now shawn was talking the gloves off and refusing to respect bret —- then he did the sunny days promo

- “the cat fight in hartford” as bret calls it came after the sunny days promo

- apparently after all this, they were still on decent terms. (also random fun fact that was not told in this interview: the costume ladies stopped making bret’s ring attire because he beat up shawn in hartford). bret was told him and shawn had a wrestlemania spot (xiv im guessing shawn says he didn’t know that) so he told shawn he had no problem putting him over. shawn said “thank you and i appreciate that but i would never do the same for you”— neidhart and ken shamrock were there

- bret says the next day, he goes to tulsa, ok tv tapings (its crazy that he remembers such details) and vince says bret you have to drop the belt in montreal to shawn but bret tells vince what shawn said about not putting him over

- vince said im gonna get shawn and you’ll repeat what you just said, vince finds him and just says “im gonna put the belt on you shawn” and shawn starts acting fake and praises bret

- so bret did not want to put shawn over because he disrespected him

- one thing that people always get wrong about the lead up to the screwjob that pisses me off is that they think bret had a huge vendetta against shawn and didn’t want to drop to him or anyone, wanted to carry the belt to wcw and he didn’t wanna lose in canada EVER and that bret was being a difficult bitch in the midst of this when bret has said time and time again this was not true:

1. bret had no problem dropping the belt to shawn initially. he was happy to do it but shawn telling bret he wouldn’t put him over is what ruined it.

2. bret had no intention of bringing the belt to wcw ever. he and vince went over many ways that he could drop the belt — on raw, the next in your house, ss. it was never an issue. and he said he would’ve dropped it to ANYONE. so no the screwjob was not a “business decision” like triple h, stone cold and undertaker claim. i could get that it was supposed to be business as in they needed to start the attitude era and shawn was supposed to be the face of the company for that and needed the belt but stone cold could’ve gotten it and have a stone cold vs shawn match and spend more time beefing up dx. drop to undertaker — shawn vs undertaker again in a rematch after that in your house hell in a cell. there were ways. plus the way they went about it kinda breached bret’s contract but thats another post (i could really do a montreal screwjob post if anyone is interested because i know basically EVERY public detail about it now).

3. “ooh bret just didn’t wanna lose in canada!!” okay is that so bad? that’s his biggest audience and home country. plus they don’t run that many shows there anyway so why can’t we let bret have that? also bret said he would’ve dropped the belt in ottawa and where is that? okay then.

-triple h having a say in this decision is very weird to me. hunter said “fuck bret not wanting to drop the belt to shawn. if he doesn’t wanna do business, we’ll do it for him” he egged on the double cross. im also confused as to why shawn and triple h are in the management room like they’re execs and why are we going over finishes without the second party of the match? thats not how its supposed to be done.

-for bret, it was all about respect. for shawn, it was about validation. i just don’t get why it was so important to get it from bret. maybe because bret’s a vet? he knows the business in and out, has played almost every role central to pro wrestling, from a wrestling royalty family — possibly bret not validating shawn felt like a burial of his talent? like the expert who has seen almost all the greats can’t recognize that same greatness in him which makes him feel like he’s not as good as he thinks he is?

-if im hearing this correctly, shawn didn’t know how the double cross was going to go. he knew it was going to happen but not exactly how.

-bret and shawn had a final heart to heart the day of or hours before the screwjob, talking about their problems, how they were fucked up in their connection and trying to reestablish some trust going into the SS match — shawn starts crying a bit here because he feels so guilty about his involvement in the screwjob

-shawn felt he had a huge weight on lap with the decision to carry out the screwjob or change the finish— he said he did what he was told because he felt like a little soldier for the company (for vince)

-shawn said this was easily one of the lowest points in his career

-vince wanted to take full responsibility for the screwjob but shawn is ?? abt that bc shawn is gonna be the one in the locker room and the matches so who’s really gonna feel the heat?

-bret didn’t punch or rough up shawn after the screwjob because he didn’t know if shawn was really involved or not and would feel bad if he physically hurt him while he was innocent. bret said he would feel bad about it for the rest of his life.

-bret had 275 days in his contract for 97 but did 310 days

-bret was devastated about this double cross — bret holds back tears after he says this

-bret felt more betrayed by shawn than vince. he said if it were the other way around and they wanted bret to screw shawn, “there would be nothing they do or say to get me to do that”

- bret categorizes himself as “one of the boys” not a “company guy”

-even after everything, bret still had respect for shawn

-i understand why bret was so absolutely pissed about the double cross because 300 days for 14 years — sick, hurt, missing family, leaving on christmas just for them to say fuck you and get the fuck out

-side note: bret tells shawn canada doesn’t hate you because of the screwjob but because you dry humped the flag

-not to be extra but there’s an interlude here where wwe sums up their lives post screwjob and bret’s section is just absolutely devastating (becsuse his life after really was) — owen’s death, his concussion, his mom died, davey boy died, his stroke, his dad dies after (thats a LOT of trauma over the span of 6 years) while shawn’s section is just like yeah he broke his back but had an amazing, spectacular, spiritually fulfilling journey where like fine wine he got better with time like alright…

-bret says he was so angry about everything related to wwe that he felt like “parachuting in[to raw] with a machine gun”. he wondered how he could arrange it 😭

-tyson kidd told bret that shawn still feels bad about what happened (i think this was 2009?) and wanted to call bret to talk. bret told tyson to give shawn his number. bret waited for shawn to call for a year and asked tyson why he hadn’t.

-the big motivator for bret to reach out to shawn was the wrestlemania xxv match with shawn and undertaker— bret was so proud of him and undertaker and wanted to call shawn to congratulate him.

-shawn didn’t call bret because he was scared (shawn says this so bluntly). he wanted to make up with bret so badly that he couldn’t handle bret being closed off to reconciliation.

-the make up in the ring was very genuine.

-shawn is very torn up about the fact that he didn’t have the ability back then to…not be an asshole. he wished he was a better person and he got a little worked up and choked up about the fact that he was not. it devastates him that his poor decisions and emotional stability ruined his connection with bret.

-shawn also says with the utmost conviction: “for whatever reason, i just wanted bret hart to like me”

- there’s a very cute clip here from the interview day (theyre in some other room) where bret makes some joke, shawn laughs and grabs bret’s arm while bret smiles 😊

-clip of bret and shawn strolling the dock, just chatting

-bret on forgiving shawn: “it pulled this weight off of shawn. it set him free which in turn set me free”

-clip of bret showing shawn something on his phone

-shawn is just so happy to have made up with bret. you could tell he missed him.

-the final line of the interview from jim ross is “hope lives. thank you.” the drama of it all.

[talekinesis]

Reasons I will not Accept Umbrella Academy Season 4 as Canon (major spoilers)

I wanna preface this with: This is just my personal opinion, I am not telling anyone how they should or shouldn't feel. If you liked season 4, that is wonderful for you, I wish I could say the same

These two. I do not like their little romantic side plot at all for a multitude of reasons

I know Five's consciousness is like 68, I know he's technically an old man, but his body is around 19 years old, and Lila knew him while his body was still 13 so it just feels weird

I cannot imagine being in my 30s, married with children and being in love with someone who looks like they're 19, and yes, I know 7 years alone will do numbers on someone's mind, but still

throughout their whole little love montage, I was just begging, "Please let this just be a wholesome friend thing, please let this just be a cute, close sibling like dynamic- FUCK ME, THEYRE KISSING!?"

Also Five wasn't even good to her, he lied about the book at first and just made the decision for her that she'd stay with him in that timeline forever. And yes I know he eventually told her, but even after that he kept trying to convince her to just abandon her husband, children, and family because "You're happy here." Diego and Lila have their own issues, sure, but he's still the much better option and wouldn't have tried to trap her like that.

Season 4 Five just feels.. off, he feels wrong. Bring back his little shorts and old man vests when he was in 'retirement.' Bring back the Five that went on a road trip with Klaus because he wanted to see things like the world's biggest ball of yarn or whatever it was, I don't like this Five who tries to trap a married mother in an alternate dimension with him

THE CLEANSE

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

YOU'RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME NONE OF THEM MAKE IT??

"Oh Talon, there can't always be happy endings, some endings are sad too," and I GET THAT!! But that doesn't mean I can't still pout about it >:(

I will sit here with a pouty lip and arms crossed for all eternity /ref

It just felt like a kick to the gut for the show to be like, "Oh and they ceased to exist, they were never born, none of this technically ever happened, and no one remembered or missed them. They saved the world, the timeline, and no one will ever remember them for it because it technically didn't actually happen to begin with," fuck you

These characters we got so attached to, these plots that we got so invested in, you can't just tell me, "Also they technically never happened because they were never born," what the hell??

So you know what?? No. I don't accept s4 as real. Just like the cleanse, it never happened. As far as I'm concerned, the story ended at s3, everyone is alive and well, they don't have their powers, and they all went their separate ways.

Viktor is still running a bar in Canada with his friends

Allison is still a happy mother to Claire

Luther is living in the mansion married to Sloane

Diego is still learning to be a parent with Lila

Five is in much needed therapy and in college reclaiming a young adulthood life he never had

Klaus is still sober and going strong, probably working at a café, he's someone's favorite barista and they have conversations

Ben is living in South Korea (where google said he was at the end of s3) and he still keeps in contact with Klaus and Viktor

[vandnana]

In Love With The Enemy [I]

Chapter 1: Why So Blue?

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part 

highlights: [lo’ak already having a crush on the reader after LITERALLY almost trying to kill her, jake and reader have their tearful reunion!, quaritch still in his toxic dad era, and lo’ak admiring reader in the bioluminescence of the forest]

word count: 9,332

note: hello! thank you all again for waiting for this part! a couple things...when i was writing, i got soo carried away, but i couldn’t help writing in moments of reader with lo’ak in their first encounters cause shes totally intrigued and he has an effect on her, but both of them are in that awkward staring phase??? with that being said, i hope you enjoy!!

[Prologue] [chapter 2]

Light infiltrated your senses, invading your shut eyes as you heard voices around you, the sounds distant at first, but slowly heightening as you came to. Opening them, the fluorescent lights stunned you, your hand instinctively finding its way to the front of your face. You pulled it away, the sight so shocking that you figured you were in hell, punished to be what you had failed to protect.

You were blue, a Na’vi, adorned in hospital gowns with wires attached all over your body. 

You felt sharp pains in your head and pangs in your heart, endless memories flooding your mind in swarms, the happiness, the pain, the loss...you remembered it all as you took in your surroundings. 

You got up instantly, pulling off the wires as you searched around, your vision becoming less blurry as you continued to blink. 

You looked for Grace first before you realized she was gone, murdered by your father, the agony once cauterized now festering into an open wound as the memory sunk stones in your heart. You were looking around for Jake, Norm and, Trudy, but they were nowhere to be found. You were alone, heartbroken, and confused. 

“Whoo! Looks like the baby’s awake!” You heard from behind the door, other blue figures walking in wearing full camo, all of them strutting over to you. 

In your newly awakened shock, you had a delayed reaction to your body just waking up, your muscles suddenly feeling like jelly as you kept yourself steady on the bed with your hands. As everyone filed in, you hoped that at least one of them would be Jake, but you sunk your shoulders as you realized who they were.

Wainfleet, Warren, Zdinarsk, and Fike. They were the soldiers you grew up training with, all cut from the same obnoxious and arrogant rock. 

Wainfleet shook your shoulders, laughing loudly as he looked at your expression, your teeth gritted as you did your best to hide how much you despised all of them, ���Hey y/n, why so blue?”

The rest of them laughed aloud with him, and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you aggressively, which only made him erupt with more laughter, “Still as feisty as ever.” Wainfleet sighed. 

Lagging behind, one last person walked through the door, and unlike the rest of the regiment, he was wearing hospital gowns like you were. When he turned toward you, you recognized him right away.

It was Quaritch, your father, the man you owed your life to when you were human. 

But it wasn’t really him. 

He had become his worst nightmare and in seeing him, you were convinced that you really had been damned to hell. He was Na’vi too and a real sight for sore eyes, his movements awkward and almost repulsed as he approached, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The only comfort that he seemed to take refuge in was seeing you, his daughter, his prodigy.

He hugged you and for the first time, he smiled. “My little girl, real nice to see you.”

You hardly shared the same sentiment, the comfort you should have felt replaced by torment and pain. Your memories with your father were consumed by both, and in that moment, that was all you could feel. It was rare for him to ever hug you like this. You never felt any warmth from his embraces, just a temporary sense of relief that you had done something right, that you didn’t disappoint him. You had endured it all your life, desperately clinging to the good things he did, your gratefulness to him for saving you from a worthless life overwhelming any rational thought.

Your father seemed to be the one savoring the feeling of holding you, the roles unexpectedly reversed as he, for the first time in his life, clung to you, like you were the only tether to who he once was. 

Before, you would have considered yourself lucky, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and savoring that feeling. But as you sat on the bed, you kept your arms at your sides and your eyes glued to the ceiling, biting your cheek as you fought every urge to give into your anger, to push him off you and make him pay for what he did to Grace. 

You took a deep breath in, relaxing as you faced forward again, “I’d be stupid to believe that we were brought back for a simple reunion. Why are we here? And how are we avatars?” You had a firm tone, almost emotionless besides your lifted syllable at the end to indicate your question.

Quaritch let go of you, a proud, satisfied grin on his face as he pulled back, “Perceptive as always.” 

He crossed his arms, “All of us got our ticket punched the last time we were on Pandora, and for the sins of our past we have been brought back to life in the form of our enemy to complete one simple task.”

“What’s the mission?” You remained stoic, mirroring your father as you crossed your arms. 

He chuckled lightly, his tone suddenly confident as his eyes reflected his renewed sense of purpose, “We’ve been ordered to eliminate the leader of the Na’vi insurgency known as Toruk Makto.”

The emotion you held in burst out in the surprise you showed in your widened eyes. Unfolding your arms, you felt a flit of relief settle in your heart, “Jake’s alive?” 

He turned his head, the rest of your regiment whooping with excitement, their smirks irradiating a sinister aura as they gathered around your father. 

“That’s right, y/n. Sully’s alive.” Your father gloated, his eyes ferocious with vengeance, “And we’re gonna kill him.”

He gave you no chance to protest, walking out with the rest of the regiment as he pointed to the clothes beside you, “Now, go on and get dressed. We got an hour before Pandora insertion.” 

You grabbed the clothes from the table, your hands tightening around them and your breathing ragged as you could feel your frustrations finally spill out. 

You had been born again, but at what cost? 

The same people that sent you to Pandora were the same people that made an unholy decision, reaching into the past and plucking you out of the comfort of death just to reclaim the glory they still believed was theirs.

When you had awoken, you had figured you had damned yourself for all eternity, and in learning about your new mission, you were right. You were thrust back into your own nightmare, a horrible repeat of the life you had once known, your orders betraying what you had in your heart, just like it did before.

You wanted no part in reclaiming glory and rewriting your father’s failure, but it was the only reason why your heart was even beating. Your mind was only just catching up on your grief, the loss so fresh and so vivid that you felt guilty to have that heartbeat. 

You were the Colonel’s daughter. 

Why did you deserve to live when Grace was dead? Why did you get a second chance at life when your only reason for breathing was to destroy Jake?

Everything about your life now was born from selfishness, the selfishness of Sky People that had no respect for philosophies regarding life and wholly disregarded the notions that dead things should stay dead.

You didn’t know what happened to Trudy or Norm, but you naturally thought the worst, and that made your mere existence even more unbearable. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you died, but for you, you never felt that time pass, never felt the pain of being gone from those you love. It felt cruel to be alive, the torment of it aching you as you thought of how Jake must have felt when you died and how much it must have hurt. 

You looked up, your eyes catching a glimpse of your reflection in the metal lining of the walls. You touched your face lightly as you stared, so bewildered by how you looked. You weren’t the old you anymore, only the shell of your humanity in the semblance of your features. 

And for the first time since you woke, you smiled, “If only Grace could see me now.” You mumbled to yourself, the sadness of losing her still lingering behind the calm that settled over you at having thought about her. 

You got up, finally deciding to change out of your gowns, and you could have sworn you heard Grace’s voice in the back of your mind, telling you what she always loved to tell you, how you were smarter than you let yourself believe and how you had a heart bigger than the soldiers you were surrounded by.

You took a look at yourself again, those words that felt as if they were just spoken yesterday shrouded over you. It felt unfair to be alive, and that guilt was deep inside of you, but you pushed that feeling aside as your own sense of purpose triumphed over it.

Whatever it took, whatever you needed to do, you were going to save what was left of your family.

You were going to save Jake. 

~

It was two minutes until Pandora insertion, your breather on as you waited for your descent onto the planet. You were quiet, keeping to yourself as you rode along with everyone else, absorbing every detail of the plans until you could figure out the best way to help Jake. 

When you had finally reached the ground, the hatch opened and getting up, you walked out, expecting to find yourself surrounded by the forest you loved so much. 

Pulling your breather off though, your smile dropped, your eyes unwilling to process the inconceivable truth. In front of you was the reckoning of humanity in full form, its destructive touch creating an unhallowed grave of the once-rich earth below it. Flashbacks filled your mind as you remembered your early life on earth, the desecration of the forest mirroring the desolation that you had escaped when you left for Pandora. Sky People had killed their Mother, holding onto the little that she could provide before finally destroying Her integrity.

Back then, Selfridge was all about the money, and while greed was still very much a part of the new frontier you had found yourself in, humanity’s motives had suddenly become desperate for something else--a new home.

The air no longer held a healthy vigor, a gray density taking its place and expelling a putrid, metallic smell that filled your nose. You were in horrid disbelief, the sight in front of you giving reason to the smell as you rubbed your eyes, still not wanting to believe that the damnation in front of you was real. You were witnessing an entire infestation, complete with insect-shaped machina, their hardware programmed to build the towers and towers of future buildings that would make up what would be known as Bridgehead City. 

Behind you, you felt slight relief to see that forest still remained in the distance, but with how quickly the machina bugs were building, it was only inevitable that their work would continue southward and beyond. The General in charge, General Ardmore, although satisfied with the progress that they had made in a year, was still taking losses thanks to Jake’s raids, his forces the only reason that the land had not been fully conquered.

You were looking at the footage from his recent raid, Ardmore’s hands on her hips as she explained the situation, “Jake’s raids are becoming bolder and more frequent.”

Putting a hand on your chin, you let out a weak chuckle, “Looks like Sully’s giving you a run for your money.”

Wainfleet nudged you in the ribs with a disapproving look, but you shoved him away, crossing your arms, “I’m only speaking the truth. He was a Marine, guys. I’m not surprised. He knows exactly how you all think.” Your tone was condescending as you glared at General Ardmore, who seemed to only tolerate your consistent interruptions.

She glared back at you, “Are you questioning my methods, Lieutenant?”

Quaritch was taken aback, putting a hand up to your chest, to stop you from continuing. You looked at your father and defiantly you spoke again. “I am questioning your methods, General. You may have been able to tame this frontier in a year with your bionic bugs, but these...savages with their bows and arrows still have you all by the balls.”

She scoffed, “I’d watch that tone, Lieutenant,” She paused as you kept your glare on her, and she turned, another holographic projection of the Hallelujah Mountains emerged, “Although, what you said does hold some truth. We’ve come to believe that he’s holed up somewhere in these mountains within one of its cave systems, but every time we go up there, we take losses. Can’t be more than ten minutes in enemy airspace without stirring up the hornets’ nest.”

You watched as helicopters were swarmed with hoards of ikran, and you were instantly fascinated, your mind querying the possibility of such a hive mind response by animals, “How odd. They never used to do that before.”

“Our only hope of finding Jake’s base is you guys. We think that you will be perceived as indigenous and won’t trigger the immune response, but that’s only our theory.” General Ardmore 

“And how might we test that theory?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Tight-lipped, she sucked a breath in, “The hard way.” 

Quaritch snickered, a cocky smirk on his face, “Outstanding.” 

“Good. No time to waste. Let’s fly.” She replied with a pleased grin.

Ardmore ordered for a helicopter to be prepped and escorted you toward the hangar. When you entered it, the pilot was just getting into the helicopter and you instantly thought of Trudy, your best friend who loved to raid the caf late at night with you and begged you to fly with her all those years ago.

Quaritch interrupted your thoughts as he pulled you back, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t talk to your superiors like that again, you understand me?”

Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes sir. I understand.” 

“You better. Now get in.” He let go of your arm, motioning for you to enter the helicopter. 

Wainfleet had a dumb smile on his face, asking curiously, “Where we headed first, Colonel?”

“Where it all started.” He replied, his eyes lighting up with his inspired rage, “W

Touching down on one of the mountains, a stream of nostalgia flowed through you as your mind replayed the first day you had ever landed there with Trudy. Site 26 was only a couple meters away, but each step was like a remnant of the past, scenes flashing in front of you as if you were only there yesterday. 

You suddenly felt like you were home once again. 

The forest had grown so much, the plant life around you like a warm blanket as the trees enveloped your figure everywhere you went. The soft earth squished down as you took a step while the intertwining branches and brambles gave you a hearty challenge as you maneuvered. Your ears twitched at the range of sounds, some delicate and others obvious, those ones keeping the rest of your crew on edge, their guns readied pointedly in every direction.

You were merely keeping protocol, not planning on shooting anything as you trudged carefully through the forest. Even with all that you had learned about Jake, you still had no plan. Any hope you had of going out to find him alone was futile, knowing that Quaritch would notice your absence instantly.

Approaching Site 26, Wainfleet took his place beside your father, joining him as they both stepped into the clearing. You hesitated, yet to brush past the infiltrating brush as the gaps in the leaves gave you a skewed view of the shack, which had clearly been abandoned, any sign of life nonexistent. 

You could hear slight rustling in the trees, the movement calculated and quick. Craning your neck, you looked upward, catching an unmistakable shimmer of blue as you watched the figure of a young man maneuver behind a thicket of green foliage above.

There was no use in hiding, you had already seen him and in his boldness, he brushed the leaves away, staring down at you with his bow already drawn back in his hand, and behind him was a younger girl, the side of her face only visible to you. 

As he continued to look at you, you put your gun down, your figure still as you squinted up at him, his face holding so much familiarity to you that you fell silent.

He was unusually hesitant to kill you, convincing himself that he was only being strategic, but truthfully, he just thought you were pretty, unable to contain a  flush in his face. The younger girl he was with, looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched his odd behavior. He looked hardly older than you, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you knew that the longer they were there, the more danger they were in.

You put your hands up, whispering as you spoke to them in Na’vi, “You both shouldn’t be here. Go back. They’ll kill you if they see you.”

He kept his bowstring taut, conflicted as he faced you, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Why not let them kill my ass then?”

“I’m not your enemy.” You replied simply.

Quaritch looked over, seeing your figure behind the brush, calling you through his telecom device, “You got eyes on something, y/n?”

Placing your fingers on your own device, the young man drew his bow back again upon instinct, “No sir.” You shook your head, “There’s nothing but trees here.”

Giving them both one last glance, you made your way into the clearing, the young man’s eyes following you as you left, glued to you as you made your way to your father.

“Why are you just staring, Lo’ak? You heard her. We should go.” She pulled at him, trying to get him to budge.

“Not yet Tuk. I have to see what they’re up to.” He warned, glancing at her from the side and shushing her.

Carefully, he advanced forward, climbing to a higher branch with Tuk following behind him quietly. From a higher spot, Lo’ak watched as you, Quaritch, and Wainfleet gathered near your father’s AMP suit.

You were towering over it, your father frowning as his eyes were glued to his own battered skeleton staring back at him like an undead taunt. He put his hand on the arrows sticking out of his body, the two of them embedded into his chest mocking him scornfully too.

You looked down at the AMP suit, a relic of your father’s failure and you noticed his dogtags, pulling them off his skeleton. Your father always wore his, but he always had a copy of yours too. Handing them to him, he took them, his fingers gently brushing the metal and reading the engravings before he put them around his neck.

He looked up at you, “Check the old shack. Wainfleet and I are gonna look around some more.” 

You nodded, obeying the order. Pushing away the vines, you hopped in through the broken window. You were too big to stand tall, crouching as your eyes settled on everything, no longer seeing the reality of the wreckage in front of you, but rather the scenes of your memories. 

You felt as if you had traveled in time, back to the best days of your old life as you trailed your hands along the pods and going further toward the west-end you stopped, seeing your old bunk. You had decorated the frame with a few pictures and removing them, you wiped the dust away.

You held them up to the peeking light in the shack as you traced your hands over the pictures. One of them was just of you and Jake flipping off the camera, making you laugh to yourself. The other was your whole family, you squished between Jake and Grace, Norm and Trudy standing behind you, all of you grinning widely, your happiness caught in the stillness of one shot. 

That was the thing about happiness, it could vanish in an instant, the once pristine shack you had always remembered disappearing as you were faced with the reality of what it actually was. You were in a wreckage, your despair sinking into the broken glass that littered the floor. You hugged the pictures to your chest, savoring the memories before putting them in your pocket.

“Roll out, roll out! We got movement!” An urgent shout rang from outside.

Hopping back out, you followed after Wainfleet and the Colonel, both of them charging toward the forest.

Multiple shots were fired as you navigated through the forest floor and above, you saw the two Na’vi that you had seen earlier, frantically running through the branches and dodging bullets. 

Climbing up the tree, you chased after them, hoping to put enough distance between them and the rest of the regiment, “Ardmore was clear about what she wanted. If they know where Sully is, these two are no good to us dead.”

You were pleading on the side of reason and logic, lying through your teeth as you pretended to be on board with a mission that you only saw as immoral insanity. 

Quaritch rattled off commands, “Secure the girl! We only need one of them to draw Sully out. Kill the other one if you have to.”

You were catching up to the both of them, impossibly fast as you navigated through the branches, keeping your balance as you hopped from one to another. The younger one looked behind her, her foot suddenly catching on one of the branches and and sending her plummeting to the ground below with a hard thump.

Watching her fall felt like everything was happening in slow motion, your mind teetering on what to do as you continued to run after the young man, watching as Zdinarsk and Warren took her by the arms, dragging her off toward the shack per your father’s orders.

“In pursuit of the Na’vi male. No need for back up.” You quickly let out in your telecom, sprinting toward the young man as he was about to jump off the branch.

You tackled him, his back landing harshly on the bark as he yelled for his sister, “Tuk!” 

His eyes immediately went to you, enraged as he hissed at you first, maneuvering himself from under you and pushing you into the bark, his hands pinning your arms down.

“I’m trying to save you both.” You retorted, kicking from underneath him, inflicting a sharp pain in his legs that loosened his grip.

“Like hell you are. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He wrestled you down again, but you punched him hard, catching him off guard as he placed his finger to his lips, now bloodied.

“Then you’d be dead and so would she.” You spat, grabbing his arm and securing him onto his back once more, your grip on him strong as he fought you off with all his might. 

You brought your knife to his neck, forceful as you pushed it against his skin, “I’m not your enemy.” His eyes were fearless, challenging you as you stared into his eyes. 

You huffed, lifting your knife from him and striking the bark so close to his ears that you nicked him slightly, blood drawing from where you had caught him.

You put a firm hand on his chest, catching your breath as you calmly talked to him, “I don’t want to fight you, okay?”

He placed his hands on your waist, swiping his leg from underneath yours to press you back into the bark, his eyes narrowed at you, his face smug, “Then what do you want to do? Dance?” 

You scoffed at his arrogance, “I want to help you.” You put a finger on his forehead, your teeth gritted, “You need to get it through your thick skull that if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“I need to save my sister.” He was panting, still stubbornly persistent, but in his desperation, reluctantly loosened his aggressive grip on you.

You lifted yourself up too, your face so dangerously close to his as you glared at him. “You have no fear. I see it in your eyes. But that won’t save you or your sister. Even with all that courage, you have no chance against my regiment. Not alone at least.”

Your voice sent goosebumps down his whole body, his cheeks reddening as he tightened his jaw. He scoffed listening to you, his pride too great to acknowledge that truth. You stood up, putting a hand out. He hesitated to take it, and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to pull him up. He blinked at you, the feeling of your hands in his warm and kind, a sudden stark difference to how they felt when you were fighting.

You had a determined expression on your face, your speech hurried as you cautiously looked around you, “I’ll keep your sister safe. You have my word, but I can only think of one person who’ll know how to deal with my regiment.”

He sighed, your hands still intertwined, “Who?”

“Your Olo’eyktan, Jake Sully. My father, Colonel Quaritch, has orders to kill him, and your sister is his best bet at drawing him out.”

The young man’s face paling in shock, his mouth parted in utter disbelief, “Why does your father want to kill mine?”

You withdrew your hand, blinking as your brain could hardly process what he had just said, his reason for feeling so familiar slowly being committed to truth. In your shock, your mouth spewed your thoughts in an almost inaudible whisper, your face paling as you stared at him, “Had I really been dead that long?”

You couldn’t help but stare at him and looking down, you scolded yourself for not noticing his hands before, too encapsulated by that initial familiarity you felt about him. 

He tilted his head, squinting at you, “How do you know him?” 

“Look I-” You began, but your father’s voice in your ear interrupted you, startling you out of your deep thought, “Y/n, what’s your traffic?”

Putting your hands to your telecom you answered, “Returning to the rally point.”

You grabbed your knife that was stuck in the branch frantically, giving the young man one last look, soft and reassuring even amidst your seriousness, “Don’t worry about your sister. You have to go now! Hurry!”

Without another word, you jumped off the branch, your pocket snagging on it and sending the photos you had put in them flying into the air. The young man caught them in his hands, and seeing you, he was taken aback. He had seen your face before, but as he searched his mind, he found nothing to satisfy your mystery. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his head, pocketing the photos as he ran in the opposite direction of the shack, calling his ikran and darting away back to base.

When you had arrived at the shack, Tuk was bound to a nearby tree branch while Fike held her by her hair, ignoring her squirms as she tried to keep her cries silent. 

Quaritch walked over to you with a satisfied grin, patting you on the shoulder, “We got a prisoner thanks to you, but you were gone a while. That savage didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“No, sir. I let him go.” You responded simply.

“You what?” Quaritch yelled at you, furious.

“What good would he be dead? Eclipse is almost nearing and we’re in enemy airspace. We don’t have time for a full night-op. If I had let killed him, then who would be the one to tell Jake?” You argued back, your voice poised as you spoke.

“And how can you be so sure they won’t just leave this brat to die?” Wainfleet interjected, the question marking curiosity in everyone.

You glared at Wainfleet, biting your cheek as you hesitated for a moment. You didn’t want to reveal their identities, but with how bloodthirsty they looked, you knew that they were practically begging for any excuse to kill her. 

You sighed, “They’re his children.”

Quaritch’s expression turned sinister, his eyes lowering toward Tuk, whose face was scrunched up in fear, “Is that right? This is Sully’s kid?”

You nodded, your father awed by his own dumb luck as he looked up at the sky, laughing, “It must be my lucky day.”

Looking back at you, he put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m calling for extraction. We take her on board if Sully’s late.”

Calling the general through the telecom, he confirmed the helicopter’s arrival and turning toward the clearing, he called out, “Lyle!” 

Wainfleet, rushed over to him, your father pointing to the suit, “See if you can pull some data off that suit, and y/n, keep an eye on our prisoner.” 

You nodded, walking over to her as your father and Wainfleet disappeared into the clearing once more. 

Fike who was snickering as he watched Tuk squirm stopped once you cleared your throat, “Piss off. I’m sure you’re tired of daycare duty.”

Fike let go willingly, “My arm was getting kind of tired. Thanks.” He replied jokingly. 

He walked over to the others, talking amongst themselves loudly. You crouched beside the girl, who hissed at you, her pain manifesting itself in her eyes.

You remembered her name as you tried to comfort her, “Tuk, your brother is safe. You don’t need to be scared.”

Hearing her hiss, Zdinarsk was about to stomp over, but you stopped her, covering Tuk’s mouth with your hand. She turned around again, slinging her arm around Fike’s shoulders as she continued the conversation.

When she finally looked away, you took your knife out, tampering with the binds on her hands and loosening the seal, “I sent your brother to find your dad. He was once of the Sky People, but now he is Na’vi. Only he can stop them. Do you understand?”

She couldn’t believe what you were doing, her gaze darting from you to her wrists, you continued to talk soothingly, “When the time is right, you’ll be able to get out of those no problem.”

“Is my dad really coming?” She sniffled, her expression begging for you to be telling the truth.

You met her eyes kindly, “Yes. He is. I made sure that he would. And as long as you’re here with me, you’re safe.”

She relaxed, her expression relieved, a smile adorning her face finally, “Thank you for helping me and Lo’ak.” 

You smiled at her warmly, “Ah, so that’s your brother’s name.” She nodded and you couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering your fight on the branches, “I’m y/n.”

“Y/n. That’s pretty. How did you know my name?” Tuk asked innocently.

“I heard Lo’ak call you. Your name is pretty too.” 

She blushed, “Thank you.” 

She looked at her wrists, “How will I know when the time is right?”

Returning your knife to where it was, you put a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll know, Tuk.” You smiled, “Your dad knows how to make an entrance.” 

As you looked at her, you saw more of her parents in her. You had been so focused on the thought of being brought back to life, that you didn’t even bother to notice how long you really had been dead. You felt it first looking at Lo’ak, but it had finally sunk into you. 

It felt surreal, and as you sat on the soft, rich soil, you realized that you had probably died somewhere in the forest, your body a relic of the past just like your father’s was.

Quaritch walked out of the brush with a disgruntled expression, his eyes irradiating with an unkempt rage. When you saw him, you stood up, placing yourself between him and Tuk.

"What happened? Why are you-” You stopped as your father pushed past you, kneeling as he put a knife to Tuk’s throat.

He pulled her head back, seething, “Listen here little girl, the only reason why you’re breathing now is because I wanna see your father’s face when I kill you.”

Tuk froze, petrified as fear overtook her body, so stunned that she couldn’t even utter a whimper. 

“What the hell are you doing? She’s just a child!” You yelled at your father, something you had never done before, the height of your voice making him lift his grip on her. 

Slowly he ascended, his eyes squinted at you in disbelief, “I don’t care if she’s a child. She’s his. Sully’s gonna pay for what he did to us. To our family. Nothing’s over. Not while we’re breathing.”

The hatefulness in his words trapped you as you felt his manic desperation suck the fresh air around you, the world feeling as if it was sinking into abysmal darkness as you couldn’t shield the horror in your eyes.

He took the dogtags you had given him earlier and put them around your neck, “This Na’vi blood’s making you soft. You wear this as a reminder, y/n, a reminder of who you are and where you came from.”

Quaritch stomped off, barking orders to Fike as he left the perimeter, leaving you with those dogtags on your neck, mocking you. You clasped your hands around the dogtags wanting to rip them off your neck and cast them far from you, but you stopped yourself, your shoulders sinking as you sat beside Tuk again.

Your expression matched the darkening sky, the light that cascaded through the trees slowly succumbing to eclipse, and unsure of how to comfort you, Tuk put her hands over yours, your hearts anxious for what was ahead.

~

“Where’s your sister, Lo’ak? Where’s Tuk?” Jake yelled, his tone abrasive as he aggressively took his son by the shoulders, Neytiri behind him, her eyes filled with worry. 

His brother Neteyam went to his side while his other sister Kiri took the other, both of them teeming with worry. 

 Lo’ak brushed them both off as he made eye-contact with his father, the urgency in his voice showing in his hurriedness, “Colonel Quaritch. He took her, but this girl, she’s keeping her safe and she told me to find you.”

Jake squinted at his son, enraged by such nonsense. He raised his voice in anger, “What the hell are you talking about? Quaritch? A-a girl? That’s impossible. Answer the goddamn question, Lo’ak! Where is your sister?”

"Where is Tuk?” Neytiri repeated, the slowness in her voice giving intense warning as she glared at him.

“Tuk is at the shack, but you have to listen to me, dad. They’re all avatars. They were wearing camo and they had guns.”

Jake and Neytiri looked at one another, unwilling to believe such a nightmarish thing. Still, they were sure of one thing. Tuk was gone, and whether they believed what Lo’ak had said, it didn’t matter. They’re daughter’s life was on the line.

“Let’s go get our daughter.” Jake said to his mate, who nodded, calling her ikran, Jake doing the same.

Lo’ak reached the edge of the camp, mounting his ikran and almost darting off before Kiri and Neteyam showed up at his side.

Kiri groaned in annoyance, “What are you doing? You’re gonna get in trouble!”

Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak’s arm, glaring, “Don’t, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak shoved him off, mounting his ikran, “Just come with me and stop being such a wuss.”

Lo’ak flew off, Neteyam grunting as he followed his brother, cursing at him under his breath.

Eclipse had finally taken over the sky and with it came a steady rainfall, giving Jake and Neytiri an advantage. Neteyam and Lo’ak followed not long after, and in his fury, commanded them to both stay by the ikrans, Neteyam reluctantly obeying, while Lo’ak agreed halfheartedly.

Jake and Neytiri moved in silence, calculating every move with precision. Neytiri took to the trees and Jake covered the ground, his tomahawk firmly ready in his hand. Carefully and silently, Jake disarmed the soldiers guarding the perimeter while Neytiri waited for the opportune moment to strike. 

Everyone else took their positions when dusk fell, the usual calm of the forest becoming eerie, the slight movements of the nature surrounding you making the crew jumpy, their guns at the ready, expectant of any attack. Earlier, when no one was looking, you loosened the binds around her wrists, telling her that when the time was right, she would be able to escape easily.

Tuk kept that in mind, her eyes glued to her wrists as she waited that perfect time. The noises around you had been constant, the rain, the occasional rustling of the leaves, certain animal calls. But, a new sound broke in the wind, making your ears twitch. Tuk heard it loud and clear, looking up at you, and you understood what the sound was. It was a call, a signal that Jake had finally come. 

After the wake of that new sound, the unmistakeable twang of an arrow burst through the thick air, sending Fike backwards and killing him instantly. Bullets rang through the air from another direction, sending the other soldiers flying to the ground. Tuk, who had figured this was the perfect time to set herself free, squeezed her hands through the binds and ran in the opposite direction of the fire, screaming when she ran into someone, but sinking with relief when she realized it was Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Neteyam took Tuk into his arms, holding her as Lo’ak grabbed her by the shoulder, “Where’s the girl, the girl that helped us?” He asked her.

Tuk pointed opposite his direction, “Y/n! She’s over there!”

Lo’ak, without any hesitation ran toward where Tuk had pointed, carefully maneuvering as he approached. 

You and the rest of the soldiers took cover as bullets continued to sweep the forest floor, bullets that you knew could only be coming from Jake. 

Quaritch, who had taken cover behind a log, saw the arrow, his voice sinister as he attempted to draw her out. “Is that you Mrs. Sully?”

She instantly recognized the voice, but she kept a poised anger, despite the ghostly chill she felt down her spine, “I will kill you as many times as I have to, demon.”

Quaritch huffed out cockily, reloading his weapon, “Looks like you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone, but don’t worry Mrs. Sully. Pretty soon, you won’t have a family to protect.”

Looking at Warren and Wainfleet, Quaritch gave his signal, the two of them putting their eyes in their scopes to search for Neytiri as he continued to talk, taunting her with unbearable arrogance.

She was stuck where she was, any movement marking her for death as guns in all directions were targeting her. You used your scope to watch your crew intently from the opposite side. Warren’s eyes were fixed on the trees, and you knew he caught sight of her when he stopped, aiming as he pointed his gun at her. You aimed at Warren ready to pull the trigger, but an arrow came flying through the sky behind you, shooting through Warren’s chest and sending his body instantly to the ground. 

Wainfleet immediately turned toward the arrow’s origin and you followed his line of sight to find Lo’ak behind you. You stepped in front of the line of fire, attempting to stop Wainfleet, but he had already pulled the trigger. The bullet had landed above your clavicle, a seemingly fatal wound as your body dropped, Lo’ak catching you as you fell. 

Wainfleet’s eyes widened, turning his head to the Colonel, who hadn’t seen what had happened, and in his flustered state, Wainfleet backed away slowly,  running to your father’s side.

At that same instant, Quaritch took his shot, gauging where Neytiri was and releasing a detonation of bullets that bursted with deadly fire, the area engulfing in a massive explosion that ruptured the area, pieces of bark flying all throughout the forest like shrapnel. Taking her chance, Neytiri ran, and seeing her movement, Quaritch ordered the crew to follow. Jake followed too, disarming soldiers from where he had taken cover and using the last of his bullets to secure Neytiri’s safety. 

You were lying on the ground, Lo’ak breaking your fall as you both tumbled to the grassy floor, “Shit!” He yelled out once he noticed the blood dripping from the wound. 

Shifting to your side, he put pressure on it, talking to you gently, “Hey! Stay with me, okay?” 

When your mind finally caught up with your body, you let a deep breath in, sitting up abruptly, the boy retracting his hands as your own touched where your wound was, the blood smeared on your fingertips as more poured down your chest. 

Quickly, you ripped pieces of your shirt as he watched, eyes blinking in confusion as his face flushed, “What are you doing?”

You almost laughed, a smirk on your face, “Relax, I’m not getting naked.” 

Looking around, you took your knife out, slicing off a piece of the bark from a nearby tree, pressing the blade into its flesh as it seeped out sap. You wiped the sap on your wound, feeling the slight sting as Lo’ak watching in confused awe.

Lo’ak let out another question, “Where did you learn how to-”

“I had a great teacher.” You replied, “Yanna bark sap has great healing properties.” 

You gave him the pieces of cloth that you tore, “Just wrap the pieces around.”

He took the cloth from you, covering the wound, “Wrap it tightly.” You ordered.

“Ow!” You yelped as he pulled the cloth taut.

“You said to do it tightly.” He mumbled, continuing to wrap your wound. 

You took his face in your other hand, brushing his lip with your finger, the bottom of it cracked and the blood crusted from when you punched him, “Sorry about that.” 

He could feel his heart beat faster, your fingers still on his lips as he placed his gaze on you. The way he bore his eyes into you made you feel shy, and having never been looked at like that before, you pulled your hand away, but he grabbed it, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Blues, greens, and purples illuminating your shimmering skin as the plants around regained their bioluminescence. Anyone from the outside looking in would have thought you two were sharing affections, the plants livening around you, sanctifying the air you shared, that small, fleeting moment between the two of you peaceful amidst what had just happened. You cast your eyes away from him quickly though, unable to let yourself slip too deep into that peace, the horrible truth of reality striking at it like vipers.

Your ears twitched, voices coming through your telecom, immediately you turned around, craning your neck as you saw the bright, white lights of the extraction helicopter in the distance, snuffing out the glow of the plants. You could hear the general’s urgency as everyone was ordered to return to the helicopter.

“Get down. They might shoot if they see you.” You pulled him into the nearby brush, the tall, hanging leaves giving cover for you and Lo’ak.

As the helicopter neared and neared, its rotors whirred loudly, silencing the rest of the noises and filling your ears. Through the leaves, you saw the helicopter descend just above the tree line, multiple ropes dropping to the ground for extraction. Immediately, Quaritch stopped his crusade, falling back to the rally point, everyone else following after him. Grabbing onto the rope, he counted who he was with, but let go when he realized you weren’t there. 

“Y/n? Do you read me? Get back to the rally point.” He commanded in his telecom, his voice desperate.

You were about to put your hands on your telecom but you stopped, your fingers hovering over the buttons. You didn’t expect to hesitate. From the moment you woke up, you felt scorned by the presence of your father. But as you heard his voice calling to you so desperately, what was left of that old you, who loved him so much, found its hold on your heart somehow. 

“Y/n? Do you hear me? Get back to the rally point, now!” He yelled out. You could see him in front of you, frantically looking around.

General Ardmore was barking orders too, emotionless, “If she doesn’t come up Colonel. We’ll have to leave and come back tomorrow.”

Despite the whirring of the helicopter, your father’s voice was all you could hear in your head as he continued to scream out your name, the voice that taught you your every move and molded your every thought.

Still, you did nothing, eyes glued to your father in the distance, uncharacteristically panicky as he turned to the rest of his regiment, throwing his hands up, “Where’s my little girl?”

Lo’ak put a hand on your arm, his voice low, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go back. That guy over there shot you, then left you.”

You looked at him, feeling the guilt within you rise, “Am I not so different from him? From all of them? I don’t belong here on Pandora and I don’t deserve to. If I stay here, I’d still be endangering you all.”

He kept his eyes planted on you, the sadness in your voice reinforcing him to be strong, “And if you go back, then what will happen to you? Will you just obey orders and watch your dad kill mine?” You looked at Lo’ak, your expression still conflicted and too aghast by his boldness to offer any protest. Yet, Lo’ak knew he got through to you, your expression softening as you let him lower your hands gently to the grass. 

“Look, you chose to save me and my sister when you could have killed us.” He lifted his hand up, his palm grazing it as he took the earpiece out of your ear, his fingers traveling to your neck as he unclipped your telecom.

You froze, your senses wholly attuned to him as your mind could only focus on his voice, calm and slow as he spoke to you, “You told me yourself. You’re not the enemy.” He smirked at you, pressing a finger into your forehead, “Get that through your thick skull, won’t you?” 

You couldn’t help a light laugh as your lips upturned, “I got through yours, so it’s only fair right?”

About to lift your gaze back on the helicopter, you stopped, rolling onto your back instead, relinquishing the ties of who you no longer wanted to be, unwilling even to grant them your eyes as they left you. You felt as if the tether to your father was being severed as the helicopter flew away, its whirring becoming distant and distant until finally, the tranquility of the forest returned as the bioluminescence reawakened around you. The feel of the grass and the air immersed you into that bliss, and no longer focused on the anger and hurt, you only wondered how you endured it for so long, how that tether was able to mark trauma into your skin and bones.

Lo’ak, although confused by your actions held no qualms about joining you, lying down, his eyes only on you the whole time. You turned your head slightly to look at him, and you felt that peace from before, no longer skewed but welcomed by you as you smiled at him, your gratefulness emanating from it. 

Under your gaze, Lo’ak felt himself get shy, getting up quickly to hide the blush that would surely make itself known among the illumination of the flora around you. 

“W-we should uh...look for my dad.” In his awkwardness, he was seemingly unsure, his tone expelling his words like a question.

Lo’ak put a hand out and you took it, “Yeah, Jake and I have a lot to catch up on.”

Once you stood up, you heard bellowing rustles in the distance, and immediately you took your defensive position, taking your knife out. Lo’ak also had his knife out, his back against yours as you both searched your perimeter. The rustling became footsteps, the sound approaching closer and closer until you saw a flash of blue rushing toward you, the lifting of a tomahawk making you dodge immediately.

“Jake I-!” He swung again, your knife barely blocking the weight of his tomahawk as you staggered backward.

“Dad! Stop!” Lo’ak yelled out, and hearing the rest of his family come, Neytiri already drawing her bow, he ran to her, pleading for her to put it down. 

You ducked again as Jake continued to swing, backing away as you put your hands up, “Jake! It’s me! Y/n!” You yelled.

The adrenaline pumping in his veins was too prominent, not allowing him to recognize you as he continued to swing at you, each one more forceful than the last. Neteyam had also drawn his bow, but Tuk clung to his arms, disrupting his attempt at shooting you.

You fought back vigorously and when you had finally knocked the tomahawk out of his hands, you let go of your grip on him, kneeling on the dirt with your hands up as you spoke again, out of breath, “Jake. It’s me, y/n. You have to believe me.”

Blinking, he could finally hear you, your unmistakeable voice warping Jake’s mind, unwilling to accept the possibility, your appearance betraying the very memory of you, splicing who he remembered you to be from the mystery of who was kneeling in front of him.

He put a knife to your neck, his eyes pained as he tried to ignore the memories coming back to him in response to your voice, “You’re not! Y/n’s dead. She’s dead, okay? So, who are you?”

What proof did you have? Even if you showed him those photos, they wouldn’t be enough. All you had were your memories, and as you looked at Jake, so happy to see him again, you reached into your past in hopes that he would remember too.

“You know me, Jake Sully, and you know my father. He’ll stop at nothing to kill you and your family.” Jake gritted his teeth, his knife dipping into your neck more. You became teary-eyed as you continued to speak, but you were fierce in your tone, “Do you remember what I told you before the bulldozers came?” You asked.

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.” You looked over at his family, their stares burning into you, “You have a family now, Jake. Let me help you protect them from my father.”

Jake dropped his knife, his mouth parting, the words he had lived by in all the time you were gone breathing life back into you, his eyes no longer looking, but Seeing. Every doubt he had in his mind disappeared into the night air as he said your name, the breath he expelled so soft in the wake of what he felt was another reality. You were alive, and when he had finally accepted that fact, he lifted you up from the ground, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before.” He said softly, “Blue never really was your color.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as you hugged him back, “Yeah well, it was always yours.” 

You felt tears brim in your eyes as you lifted your head up and you could feel your whole body relax for the first time since you woke up. In the midst of your comfortable silence you suddenly heard him sniffle. You became moon-eyed, pulling back to see that he had tears falling from his eyes too.

You smiled at him, your old joking self returning as you laughed, “I see fatherhood’s turned you into a sap.” You put your hands up to his forehead, “And look at all the wrinkles on your forehead. You’re ancient.”

Scoffing, Jake pushed your hand away, tousling your hair, “You come back from the dead, and you’re still a little shit.”

“Whatever old man. I know you missed me.” You snarkily replied, weakly punching him in the arm.

He scoffed at you, winding his arm to punch you back when his face dropped, noticing your bound wound, “What happened? Did I shoot you?”

Lo’ak piped in, “It was one of the other soldiers. He was trying to kill me, but she took the bullet instead.”

He looked between you and Lo’ak. If there was still any doubt in his mind about who you were, it was easily erased. What you had done for his son directly mirrored what you had done for him all those years ago, every detail so ingrained in him that goosebumps adorned his body as he thought of it. Neytiri, who took her place beside Jake softened her eyes, having felt grateful to you for saving Jake’s life before, and once again for saving her son.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I’ve already put yanna bark on it. It’ll be better in no time.” You put your hands up, attempting to ease Jake.

He glared at you, “We’re going.” Jake turned to his eldest son, “Neteyam, take y/n back to camp.”

“No! I’ll take her back.” Lo’ak instantly protested, earning a knowing look from Neteyam, “It’s the least I can do after she took the bullet for me.”

“Fine Lo’ak,” His eyes were ensnared with warning, “You fly straight and slow, alright? Don’t be reckless in the air.”

“Yes sir.” Lo’ak answered, although he hardly meant it. 

Everyone called their ikrans, all of them coming in like a swarm and gracefully descending to the forest floor. Jake flew off first, Neytiri, who was holding Tuk, followed after, then Neteyam ascended as well.

Making sure you were secure before taking off, Lo’ak looked over his shoulder at you, “Have you ever been on an ikran before?”

“Never.” You said, suddenly excited, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly, your chest hugging his back, “I don’t care what Jake says, I don’t want to go slow.”

Lo’ak couldn’t control himself as a satisfied grin took over his lips, “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to.”

The minute he kicked off, you felt the exhilaration of being in the air hit you as you flew through the mist of the night, Lo’ak taking extra detours around the mountain, commanding the wind as you felt it underneath you. You had merely felt free before, but as you embraced the touch of the swirling air, infinite and timeless in its beauty, you knew you really were. 

The day had felt excruciatingly long, and you felt so burdened by just being alive, the guilt, the hurt, and the pain encompassing you. But, being in the air with Lo’ak made those burdens feel like mere trivialities, and while you knew in the back of your mind that you would have to face them again, you let yourself feel that freedom you always longed to have and in its simplest form, you understood what it was you were really feeling.

You were happy.

But the thing about happiness is that it can vanish in an instant.

~

Your father was still out there, and having already been motivated to complete this mission by his own disposition, a new rage had sunk into his soul, catalyzing the torment he so desperately had to inflict.

Wainfleet finally admitted to your father what had happened to you, but in his deceitful cowardice, he left out one large truth.

“What did you say Lyle?” Quaritch asked impatiently.

“Sully. He shot her. She’s dead, Colonel.”

—

Author’s Note:

My lovers, 

LYLE WAINFLEET IS A BITCHHH ISN’T HE??? 

let me know how you felt about chapter 1!! i’d love to hear your thoughts :)

endless thanks for all of you who have waited and continue to wait for the next parts! 

for all those that wanted to be tagged for this next part, i’ve listed you all below! thank you so much!!

love, 

nana <3

~

taglist [tumblr wouldn’t let me tag some of the blogs, but i didn’t want to leave anyone out!] :

@fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30  @itsemy01 @23victoria @soobinsrose  @starjane312 @valentineoxox @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts@paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police  @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa  @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me  @strawberryclouds22@tsunchani @sully-stick-together @scarletrosesposts @local-mr-frog @pirana10 @usernumder67 @im-kai-scotty  @mae-is-crazy @ghoulbli @devil-on-acid  @neteyamoa @iamparou @nightfalldia  @a-queen-blr  @aeclark041-blog1@justpassinbxx @mochi-yu @persondoingstuff @melatonindaydreamz @ducks118 @macncheese69420666  @rotten-toenails  @rikidaily  @extreamlycutecuban @iizx7y @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @lovekeeho  @spicycloudsalad @perfectprofessorloverapricot   @kind45  @skyri-revia22@blueblushedflwr  @neteyamslovr  @coldlamaspersonspy @jayinthecloset @lunamochii @littlethingsinlife @ok-boke @donaldsmac @slut4sluttybooks @zatarias-pandora  @bol0-de-morang0  @dakotali  @bajadotcom  @bitchyzombienacho @siriusblackwh0re @wadiyatalkinabeetmate @eggyongies @galaxyfruits @kiricomics @fireflystoughts  @reallysparklychaos @bwormie​ @glitter-in-my-heroin @kirikuki @katkat1918 @0-0h-0 @imthefunniestpersonalive @my-name-duh @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @sometimesminsan @pearlrosegardener @aestheticcraze @animetrash12 @sbfandom @hrlzy @vhobuu @urforevermore @larkkyoris @usersjs-world @vampsclassiffied @razor-blayde @doromoni @lizzyloo22 @jimfiqs @hunylew @dreamergirljen

[sturniololoco]

can you write a little sis fanfic about them going skating together or one where they all go on a bike ride and y/n gets hurt

Skating Accident

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

“SLS/N, Hurry up!” Nick yells from downstairs.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m coming!” I yelled back, frantically searching my room for my beanie. It was the special one where my ponytail could come out of the top.

After climbing on the floor under my bed, I finally found it. I then sprinted downstairs, grabbing my skates from the closet by the front door. I then rushed out the front door and locked it.

Hoping into the back seat next to Nick, I chucked my skates in the trunk, slightly out of breath from my frantic search.

“It’s about damn time slow poke!” Matt says, reversing before I even put my seat belt on.

I roll my eyes at him then turn my head to Chris.

“Remember what you promised. You said you were gonna teach me to skate backwards.” I told my brother, reminding him of the deal we made on the couch last night.

“I will I promise!” He said, holding up his pinky finger.

I interlocked my finger with his, pinky swearing.

-

The rink was empty when we walked inside. Nick paid while Matt, Chris, and I began to walk to the edge of the rink to put our skates on.

Matt threw their sticks down and quickly laced up his skates, hoping in the ice and skating around, stick in hand, puck on the floor.

I was having a bit of trouble however.

My skate laces were all jacked up and I was struggling to get them untied.

Chris must have noticed because he walked over and kneeled in front of me.

“C’mere kiddo.” He said, beginning to to work on my skate.

I nervously bit my nails while he worked. I’ve never been as good as a skater as my brothers, and for some odd reason, I was scared of embarrassing myself.

“There you go kid.” He said, Patting my leg, then standing up. He threw his own skates on, then grabbed my hand and helped me out onto the ice.

“Hey SLS/N!? You need a little kid walker?!” Matt yelled, he and Nick giggling at my unbalanced approach onto the ice.

I flicked up off, nearly falling in the process, which only made them laugh even harder.

Chris grabbed my hands and steadied me. I leaned into him as he started to skate backwards, pulling me with him.

- I was fine skating forwards, but backwards was a whole different story.

We went around the rink a couple of times, just skating and talking. Matt and Nick would join us in the occasional loop.

But then Chris turned me around and started pulling me backwards.

“CHRIS-“ I began to say, but he quickly cut me off with reassurance.

“You’re fine sis, I’m right here if you fall.” He said, still guiding me backwards.

I tried to take deep breaths as he began teaching me. He showed me how my skates were supposed to go in and out, kinda like noodles.

Once I got the hang of it, Matt, Nick, and Chris hooped and hollered, hyping me up. I felt my face light up with glee as I began to feel more and more confident.

But then Chris let go of my waist.

Panic immediately flooded me, as I couldn’t stop myself. Completely forgot everything Chris had taught me and made my legs go stiff.

Just as I feel my self start to slip and the ground got closer, strong arms caught me around the waist.

“I told you I’m right here.” Chris said, smiling down at me.

I let out a sigh of relief, no longer scared of hitting the ground.

Matt skated over to me and grabbed my hand, helping me get back in my feet. The both held my hands as we went back to skating around the rink.

-

“Who wants to race?!” Matt yelled excitedly. Chris and I lined up next to him, as Nick insisted that he should be the ref.

Again, I was fine with skating forward, it’s the backwards part that gets me.

As Nick blew the imaginary whistle, we took off, Matt easily blowing past Chris and I.

It was a tie for second as Chris and I touched the wall, already yelling about who one.

“Just rematch for second time place!” Nick yelled, interrupting our banter.

Chris and I lined up again, then bolted at the sound of Nicks fake whistle.

I easily got ahead this time, glancing back as I left Chris in the dust.

But when I turned around, I found myself heading face first into the ice. I flung my hands out to catch me, lading in my wrist and feeling a sharp pop and then a stabbing sensation in my wrist.

“Oh FUCK!” I cried out, rolling in to my side, clutching my arm in agony. The tears were falling from my eyes as my brother skated over to me.

“Holy shit- that’s a broken wrist. We need to go.” Matt said, as he was the first one to my side.

He scooped up my shaking, sobbing body and skated as fast as he could off the ice, Nick and Chris close behind.

-

Chris carried me into the ER due to my lack of shoes, seeing that it would be faster if he just scooped me up and ran rather then take the time to put my shoes on.

My wrist hurt so fucking had, I could barely think strait. Tears were still racking my body as Nick checked me in at the front desk.

We got lucky, the wait was only 10 minutes. But for every second of the time, I was sobbing into Chris’s chest.

“He rubbed up and down my arm, whispering soft reassurances into my ears.

-

After an overly long ER visit and a hard cast later, we were finally heading home.

I was laying down in the back, my head resting on Nick’s lap as he gently played with my hair.

I sighed in content as the pain slowly drifted away as I fell asleep.

I was thinking ab doing a pt 2 for this, yeah? Like they take care of her. What do yall think?

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

[quitealotofsodapop]

Was Red Son going up to heaven and being granted unlimited access to their library the first time he met his grandmother or ANY of his grandparents?

Idk about DBK'S extended family situation, but if that's Red Son's first introduction to her (biological) extended family OMG that's probably a lot to handle with everything else going on in their life.

Ref.

In terms of paternal family; there isn't much left. DBK's parents kicked him out after he made it clear he was marrying Iron Fan, and her alone. His younger brother Ruyi inherited everything as the sole heir after their parents passed from age. DBK always thought that his parents had strayed from their demonic roots, many demon clans had - preferring to mimic the mortal or celestial politics beyond the Underworld.

DBK kinda wishes Red had time to know his paternal grandparents, but he knows they wouldn't have approved of the boy either. They might have seen him as a worthy bargaining chip for marriage contracts, but doubts much else.

The less said about Ruyi the better.

As for PIF's side of the family? Well...

My hc is that Red Son accidentally met his maternal grandmother before - during New Years when he and Mei broke into the Peach Orchard.

Xiwangmu can recognise her daughter's features from a mile away. And farther still, the flickers of her own True Fire. But she simply patted both of them on the heads and sent them on their way. Her heart grew fond seeing "little ones" running around the gardens again, like how her daughters used to as cubs/hatchlings. If she knew her kin, she knew that the little fire opal would stumble back into their lives again eventually.

After the events of Season 3 and with LBD nearly destroying the world - Heaven had to get involved with the clean up (LBD broke a lot of laws).

Nezha, who knew Red Son when he was an infant, was ultimately the first one to ask openly;

Nezha: "Haven't you ever actually met your mother's parents?" Red Son, busy fixing the van: "No. She never discussed them. The only time I asked, she said that they were not welcome in our lives. I felt it was rude to pry." Nezha: "...you know we're cousins right?" Red Son: "EHH!?!"

In Red Son's defence; he just thought Nezha babysat him as a favour to an old fighting buddy. Turns out the real reason was because Nezha was the only member of the Celestial Royal Family brave enough to sneakily keep contact with Iron Fan after the war.

So now Red Son is dealing with the knowledge that he's a Celestial Royal Prince!?

Red Son begins accompanying Nezha to the Celestial Realm - not feeling comfortable without a chaperone to defend him. At first just to tag along with boring post-battle stuff; notably returning Lao Tzu's furnace. The alchemist was annoyed by the loss of three pills, but impressed that Red Son managed to concoct a cure to whatever LBD added to Spider Queen's venom on the fly.

And Lao Tzu is terrible for keeping secrets...

Within the next few visits; Nezha and Red Son are stopped by Celestial Guards. Seems that the Jade Emperor himself wants an audience with the fire demon.

Red Son swallows a lump in his throat. Nezha gives him a sympathetic, but supportive smile.

The Jade Emperor is... a lot taller than Red Son expected. But the woman at his side is familiar somehow...

Xiwangmu, delighted: "I told you he'd return, my jade!" Jade Emperor, stony face: "So he has." Red Son, remembering: "Hey, wait a minute! You're the woman from the orchard! You let me take a peach!" Xiwangmu, tittering: "Of course! I cannot deny my own grandchildren the fruits of my garden!" Red Son, stuttering: "Y-you knew...?" Xiwangmu, dismounting her throne: "Of course. It's not hard to recognise the tiny face I saw the day I nearly lost my youngest daughter. I still have my duty as Goddess to protect new mothers from misfortune after all... Tieshan is a proud woman. She rejected my help up until she lost consciousness. Then your father begged for me to intervene. Despite our animosity, he still kowtowed to me to save her and you. I respect him for it." Red Son, realising: "You... you knew about me since I was born. Then... why didn't you try contacting me?" Xiwangmu, shares sad glance with her husband: "If I had... It would have placed a terrible spotlight on our youngest grandchild. If the Realms had even suspected, imagine how many demons and celestials alike would have gladly torn you asunder?" Jade Emperor, finally speaking: "Once your True Fire emerged, it would not be long until people began questioning your heritage. Only my wife and your cousin Li Nezha have wielded it before you." Xiwangmu: "We were so delighted when Guanyin took you on as her disciple! It eased our worries so much that your aunt was keeping an eye on you!" Red Son, first time hearing this lore: "Wait what?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN AUNT!?!"

Red Son was starting to get used to visiting the Celestial Realm and getting to know his maternal family.

IF PIF and DBK saw him leave the palace and return with books from the imperial library, they didn't make any comment on it.

Then Season 4 happened...

Red Son's warning may have been too late to truly save his grandfather, but it was enough to evacuate the Queen Mother and the Princesses. The celestial army didn't believe him at first, but Nezha was quick to support his judgement. It only took a quick fact check with the Ten Kings to confirm that the Scroll of Memory was indeed missing, and that the three former-celestial agents were now loose upon the mortal realm.

The last time Red Son saw his grandfather alive was when he tried dragging him off his throne, not even big enough to fully grasp a finger.

The Jade Emperor refused to budge.

Jade Emperor: "Why are you here alone?" Red Son, crying from panic: "The Brotherhood-! They wanted to recruit Father back into their ranks, but he refused! Mother leapt to take the blow meant for him and he-! His last act was to try and save her!" Jade Emperor, noticeably stiffens: "The Brotherhood struck them down?" Red Son: "N-no. But they captured them in the Scroll of Memory. But! If Azure wanted to, he could snap the bamboo containing their souls! Please! I beg of you! Evacuate with the Queen Mother, so you won't suffer the same fate!" Jade Emperor: (*sighs with relief upon hearing Iron Fan is alive. settles back into his throne*) Jade Emperor: "...Child. If you are so insistent on protecting this world, go confront the Brotherhood at your cousin's side. I am not a helpless old fool." Red Son: "But-!" Jade Emperor: "But nothing! I am not ordering you as an Emperor. But as your grandfather. Leave me here to greet my foes, as a demon king facing a warrior's end." Red Son, stops trying to drag him: "I... I will ensure that they never make it past those doors! You can count on me! Nezha and I will crush them!" Jade Emperor: "I know you can. You are my daughter's son." Red Son: (*says nothing else, but tearfully nods to his grandfather for what he correctly feels is the last time. fire teleports away.*)

In canon it was only after the Scroll was collected and the captives free did anyone in the Celestial Realm confirm that the Jade Emperor was no longer with them.

But in the case of the extended royal family; they knew the moment Xiwangmu roared to the Heavens. A connection in her heart severing like a line of red string cut. The last time her grief shook the realms, she tore open the Heavenly River itself and flooded the earth. Now the skies are beginning to crack... doesn't take a genius to know why the Queen Mother is weeping.

In the aftermath, Red Son and his parents are released from the Scroll. Only to see Xiwangmu and the Maidens. The elderly tigress crying waterfalls into her hands as her elder daughters cling to her robes and sob.

Iron Fan's normally stoic expression breaks. She calls to her mother, dropping to her knees and burying her face in her arms like she's a child all over again. Even without words, the princess knows.

The Bull King does not join the women, but he gives clear permission to his child to. Red Son didn't even need to ask.

Xiwangmu: "You were the last one to see him, fire opal. What were his last words to you?" Red Son, clinging to PIF: "He said... that I was his daughter's son." PIF: (*breathes a shocked gasp through her tears!*) Xiwangmu, smile breaking through: "Typical Yudi. Deciding things without telling me." Red Son: "What do you mean?" Nezha: "The Jade Emperor has not recognised Princess Iron Fan has his daughter since the war." DBK, voice a mix of shock/delight: "He recognises your mother as his daughter again. Which means he-" PIF, determinedly wiping her tears: "He recognises you as his legitimate grandson, and as an heir to the Celestial Throne." Red Son: (*too shocked to speak. makes tea kettle sound as flame hair dies to embers. faints Yamcha-style*)

[akingdomscrypt]

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part One

Paring; Graves x m!reader

Word Count; ~3.3k

Warnings; slight mention of s/h in beginning. For like 2 sentences. A side character is in a coma.

A/n; Another installment already? So soon? It's more likely than you'd think. (also the title was orig. something else, but it was too long so I changed it. So enjoy this ref to that one depressing Christmas song lol.)

--- "code orange" ---

You were the acting Commander of Shadow Company. After the retreat from Las Almas, you and the other Shadows had been left without a leader. So, seeing as you had been second in command since the company had begun, you were indirectly assigned the position. It wasn't exactly something the others gave much thought to; you just happened to be there, barking orders of retreat when the fire caught.

Eleven months later, and here you were. Sitting at a cold, metal desk in a chair that squealed with every movement.

Almost forty-seven weeks after that nightmare had landed you back at home base. A little duller than you remembered, but it was still standing and it wasn't born from the seeds of betrayal. It was yours, it had always belonged to you and the others. That's all that mattered, you told yourself. They were still standing, just like this old, dusty facility, and that is all that counted.

Three-hundred-thirty-four and a half days since you had dug a virgin blade into the back of someone almost considered a friend, and had withdrawn sin instead. You fiddled with that blade now. Between burnt fingertips, singed with the flames of betrayal. Your usual gloves were discarded for this.. ritual of sorts; balancing the knife from finger to finger, slipping it between webbing. Watching it, feeling that cool metal against your mutilated skin, seeing your hidden reflection thrown back at you. You should have left it buried in his flesh, left it back in a whole other country. You hadn't.

Over eight thousand hours have passed, and you hadn't gotten far. Lounging in your familiar yet foreign office, the sharp edge of a blade pressing much too close to scarred, unfeeling palms. The only evidence that it was even there was found in the crimson droplets landing in muted thud's on your desk.

Four hundred and eighty-one thousand, eight hundred and one minutes after the fact and you had an untouched stack of recruitment papers piling up somewhere to your left. Forms you had yet to even make a conscious effort to flip through, even though the choice to reopen enlistments had been your own. Just the mere sight of that new, friendly face smiling on top of the mountain of documents had you grimacing. The bright image plastered there, far too optimistic for your taste, only brought back memories. Memories of other faces. Other names. Names that are lost, but never forgotten. Not to you. One shiny-new recruit could never fill the void of dozens of expertly trained, heartbreakingly familiar war-hardened soldiers.

An ungodly amount of seconds later and here you sat, in all your unholy, defaced glory. With burn scars traveling from the tips of your fingers and along your forearms. Over time you had found that a particularly nasty scar covering parts of your throat and consuming the edges of your jaw often brought back memories you weren't too fond of. It wasn't unusual to wear a mask when on a mission, all the Shadows did, but these days you would never be caught alive without that secure piece of cloth. Concealed and buried deep under, just like your disfigured hands.

So much time had passed, but it never felt like enough.

The first call of a mourning dove is what kick-starts your morning. Sleep wasn't a thing you did often these days, so you would wait in your office after tossing and turning in your bed for who knows how long. Doing the same little ritual every day before daybreak, before that first sorrowful trill.

Then, now that it was socially acceptable for you to, you would exit your office. Chin held high and every inch of skin–apart from the, thankfully, untouched flesh of your upper face–covered, shrouded in black.

Now that your Shadows were beginning to stir, the first part of your morning routine started with you making rounds. Giving a light knock to each metallic door, rousing them from the lingering remnants of sleep.

Once you were finished with that, you'd swing by each place where an exhausted Shadow was stationed. And–with the knowledge that they'd be replaced pretty soon–you would quietly relieve them from their duties. Allowing them to get a few more hours of sleep before the liveliness of the facility was in full swing.

With a murmured; "thanks, Lt." They'd be on their way.

After that, you'd swing by the mess hall and grab a protein bar. Making your way down to medical you would try your damnedest to keep the paranoia-ridden thoughts at bay. Thoughts like he was probably dead. Had died while you were away and you weren't there to see him pass. You ignored them because, just like every other day, when you made it back to his bedside; he was still breathing.

Shadow 0-9. Or, to his friends, Viper. One of the few from your original squad who had made it out of that godforsaken city alive. Well, barely. He was hooked up to various beeping machines, numerous tubes running in and out of his body. You weren't well versed in the knowledge of medical terminology, but you knew the main tube stuck down his throat was hooked up to a ventilator. The main thing keeping him breathing. Assisting his weak lungs in the seemingly daunting task.

Other than the medical tools keeping him breathing and his body stable, there was the–in your humble opinion–excessive amount of medical tape and bandages wrapped around practically his entire body. A near-fatal concussion. Several broken bones. Including, but not limited to, ribs, a wrist, mandible, femur, and humerus. In other words; the entire left side of his body was a mangled mess. A light dusting of his own fair share of burn wounds littered his body, but they weren't extreme and most likely wouldn't scar too badly. The same couldn't be said for you.

Some of the medics had joked that it was a miracle he was still alive. You hadn't laughed.

So there you sat. Watching his comatose sleeping form, nibbling at the protein bar you'd taken from mess. You'd sit there watching waiting for a few hours, guarding him from nothing in particular. There was nothing here that could hurt him. You trusted your medical staff, and they knew how important he was. How important all of your Shadows were. So, really, there was no reason for you to worry. No reason for you to sit here, watching over a man who barely even thought of you as a friend anymore.

But there was a tiny portion of your brain that told you as long as you were here, protecting him, he was untouchable. As if your mere presence was enough to keep the hands of death from reaching out and claiming his already half-dead body.

You could only sit there for so long before the intrusive thoughts became too much and your backside grew numb from sitting in that, frankly hard as hell, metal chair. With one last glance at him, you'd stand, turn around, throw your half-eaten protein bar away, and leave. Not even uttering a goodbye to the fresh morning staff before you were halfway through the door.

Next on your daily schedule was supervising afternoon drills. There had been a prolonged period of time after you all's return that these fields had been empty, the shooting range void of any life, and even the well-frequented gym was dead silent. With over half of the crew injured and the other half too shell-shocked to pick up a weapon or throw a punch, training had come to a standstill. But now, several grueling months later, the grounds were filled with bodies once more.

You didn't join in on the activities much these days. Preferring to train alone, usually when everyone else was asleep and under the blanket of night. But you found a bit of reprieve in watching. A small part of you settled at the sight of your Shadows performing their old drills, laughing and joking around with each other during breaks. It felt almost like old times. It reminded you that–while you'd lost more soldiers than you could sanely count–there was still good here. That they were alive and well, and not attached to an ungodly amount of life-stabilizing medical equipment.

You preferred them laughing without restraint–even if that meant you were a little lax on the rules he had put in place–over the sight of them bed bound to a thin, uncomfortable cot.

When afternoon training lulled to an end, you would silently take your leave. Not even glancing at the now-crowded mess hall–you should probably hire more staff, especially if there would soon be fresh recruits joining in soon–you would head straight for your office once more. Head up in the clouds–rainy, dark grey clouds.

You hated how familiar these walls were. How you could still hear the laughter of long-since dead soldiers lingering behind every corner. Their voices haunted you. It's what kept you up at night. Well, that and the unrelenting burn of your otherwise dead flesh.

The med team had said it should stop soon. They had even sent you on your way with a tube of burn cream. Something about nerve endings needing to scar over. That, besides an itching now and again, your marred skin should heal over pretty well over the course of a few months.

That had been a week after your return to base, and the tube had long since been used months ago. It still burned, still felt like you were surrounded by that scalding metal. Like you could still feel those flames melting your skin, even through your uniform, that acrid smoke scorching your heaving lungs.

You didn't think to mention this to the med staff. They had enough on their hands as it was, they didn't need you taking up their valuable time on top of it.

They had had to peel the cloth off your body. The mixture of nylon and cotton had melted, welding itself to your burning flesh. You'd been bed-bound for weeks. After that, though it was strongly encouraged you stayed still, you had had enough and we're walking around the base with the top half of your body wrapped in an excessive amount of gauze. It's not like they could stop you, after all.

Since you and the others had returned, missing a large chunk of the team that had gone with–including a certain someone no one had dared to mention–, not a single person had said a word against you. None of them questioned your authority. Not even the most hard-headed, he-who-shall-not-be-named loyal soldiers had opened their mouths. You had that going for you at least.

Now, pushing open your office door, it was time for the most dreadful time of your day. You had spent months getting your team back together and making sure everyone was at an acceptable level of okay before you made the company's presence known again. You had begun reasserting your credibility with other organizations, strengthening ties with old allies. No one else was going to do it, so it may as well have been you.

It was several, several more months after that when you had taken the step to reopen communications with the very team you had backstabbed. More time after that for their leader, the Captain himself, to even acknowledge your attempts at lending an olive branch.

After all of that, he had finally agreed to speak to you. And only you. His only prerequisites were that you were only to communicate with him directly and that you had no connections with the supposed dead man and the General. The Captain had required proof that the old commander was no longer in your ranks–you couldn't offer confirmed death, but several invasive questions later were enough for him. Failure to comply with these demands–and on the impossible chance he was alive–was followed by an unspoken threat of your untimely death.

Insurance. He'd called it.

So, here you were. Sitting in front of your laptop and waiting for that god-awful video call, hoping you would be able to salvage the shredded remains that were your allyship with task force 141. A bond that had been clawed apart and mutilated by your own sinful hands.

The ringtone pierced through the deafening silence of the room, ice-cold dread clutches at your chest and your body seizes. It takes you far too long to uncurl your clenched fist–a blank icon along with the phrase Capt. Price blinking on the screen–and urge a gloved finger to press that button and accept the call.

The fuzzy, pixelated screen eventually smoothes out and suddenly you have lost the ability to talk. You had never spoken to this man before, outside of encrypted emails.

"Evening, Lieutenant." His graveled, British voice echoes through the speaker. You had never even directly traded words with him in person, a silent shadow–hah–behind that arrogant man. An observer. Not much of a talker.

"You alright there?" He's obviously sitting in his own office. That wooden desk and warm-toned background is a high contrast to your own metal desk and dull, grey theme. "Lieutenant?"

"Jus'-" your accent had a habit of sneaking out of that latched box of professionalism when anxiety flooded your veins. You cleared your throat with a small cough to correct it. "Just peachy, Captain."

An awkward silence lulls on. This is why you didn't do this. You had always been a trusted soldier, well-versed in various strategies of combat. You could clear a room of unfriendlies with only your favorite blade without breaking a sweat. But this? You didn't do this. Communication. The very idea of it sent your mind reeling, all coherent thoughts scrambling.

"Good." Ohthankgod. "Now, are you ready to begin?"

"Affirmative, sir." Ew. Why did you sound like that? All… strained and unnatural. As if you were a robot imitating a human, or an alien occupying a body for the first time.

"Very well." The sound of some papers shuffling and a chair adjusting emit from his side of the call. "So we have already established that Gra-"

"The old commander." You quickly, and unthinkingly, interject. You internally cringe at your reflex reaction and you're about to apologize when the Captain says;

"Right. The old commander. The hopefully deceased commander."

"I cannot say for sure that he is, Captain." You really can't. There was a lot of fire. A lot of blood. "But I can confirm he does not reside with us any longer."

"And where would that be?"

"I'd rather not discuss this topic, sir." Ah, yes. Tell him the location of you and your Shadows. That sounded like a perfectly safe and wise decision.

"Of course." A beat of silence. "On to other matters then. Would you say your team has-"

A frantic knock at your door halts his question. You don't mute the call, but you do give a slight raise of your hand. For professionalism's sake, you wouldn't typically answer the door. But this sounded urgent. Hardly anyone ever knocked.

Looking up from your laptop, you call out a clipped; "Come in."

Venn opens the door quickly, barely catching it from slamming against the wall behind it. Her eyes are wide with panic, breathing slightly labored. Fear grips your heart and your already tense body goes eerily rigid.

She's about to open her mouth when you give a pointed look back down at your laptop and the in-progress video call. Venn nods slightly in acknowledgment and takes a moment to calm herself.

"Lieutenant." She says, voice level and stiff.

"Is there something wrong, 2-1?" You do your best to keep your own tone even but damnit it's taking everything in you not to launch to your feet and into action. You don't even know the problem yet.

"There's…" Venn takes a second to think, breathing deeply through her nose. "We've got a.. we've got ourselves a code orange, sir."

You inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

"A code orange. Are you certain, 2-1?"

"Yes." Her quick reply. You nod and look back down to the waiting man on the screen.

"Sorry, Captain." You grit out. "But I'm 'fraid we'll have to reschedule."

"Tomorrow then?" He looks suspicious of your behavior, even more, concerned with the words you and your Shadow had shared. You couldn't worry about that right now. Not with a fucking code orange.

"Sure." You slam the end call button with a little more pressure than necessary. Poor keyboard. It was a surprise the damned thing was still running.

When the Captain's image closes and disappears from your screen, you jump to your feet.

"Are you sure?" You ask again as you stalk around your desk. Venn moves out of the way to allow you to exit your office, hurrying to catch up to you as you don't stop. You don't even know where you're heading.

"Where?"

Those implemented codes had never actually been used before. This was a first. No one knew what to do with themselves.

"The front gate, sir." Her voice trembles–hell, her whole body is shaking–and there's obviously something she's not telling you. You don't press for more. You will find out soon enough.

"The front gate?"

A fucking code orange.

"Yes."

An intruder.

You both more or less start jogging after that. She doesn't expand further. Simply half walk-half running by your side.

It takes a few minutes to make your way down to the first level of the facility–and that's far too much in your opinion. Every second that went by was a second you didn't know what was happening. A second out of your control. What if someone was hurt? Dead? Was the intruder attacking? Was it someone you knew? An outsider? Maybe just a lost tourist. This far away from the city made that last one very unlikely.

You push through the final door that leads to the front lawn and slow your pace to an assertive walk. It wouldn't do you well to let the unknown subject know their presence was a major concern for you. You didn't want to give them that pleasure.

Venn leaves your side to join–when the hell did they all get outside??–the alarmingly large grouping of your Shadows at the gate.

When she gets there and announces your arrival to the first Shadow she sees, they all turn to look at you. It takes you being a couple of feet from the group for the man she had whispered to to speak.

"Lieutenant." Kip sighs, raising both hands out in a placating manner. There's a certain wariness in his tone you aren't too fond of. "Don't panic. Lemme just preface this by saying-"

"Show me." You had no time for pleasantries.

Another sigh. "As you wish."

The sea of soldiers parts, giving you a front-row seat to the person standing in the middle of the opened gate.

A person you had never thought you'd see again. Never wanted to see again. Especially not smiling.

"Hey, there, Pha-"

"Detain him." It's a simple command. And your Shadows follow without a second thought. As you had mentioned; no one questioned your authority.

He lets himself be grabbed. Excessive ties around his wrists, strained a little more roughly behind his back than necessary. They herd him away quickly and silently, not uttering a word.

"What are you gonna do, sir?" Venn, very hesitantly–shifting her weight from side to side–asks.

"Whatever is necessary."

So much time had passed,

Midnight laughs, shared glances, desperate touches, breathy gasps, skin on skin-

But it was never enough.

___

Masterpost | Next

___

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

I figured I'd tag y'all just in case. I know it's probably not the fic you were expecting, but it's a part of the same AU and their paths with eventually cross. If you don't wanna be tagged for this fic in particular let me know! ^-^