#(the only bypass is if it's meant to be bad and then it's okay)

[magnusbae]

.

[navybrat817]

Feel the Pulse Beat: Intro

Pairing: Old Money!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky didn't want to go to Tony's club, but he'll be glad he did by the end of the night.

Word Count: Almost 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, frenemy behavior, family issues, bit of world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Oh, look, lovelies! A new AU no one asked for. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Why am I even here?” Bucky asked, eying the neon sign for Extremis. The one and only Tony Stark owned the club. A mix of people in clothes that ranged from expensive suits to revealing dresses stood in line with the hopes of getting in. “Because I have a car I could be working on as we speak.”

He could fit in at clubs, but he’d take greasing up his hands over dressing up any day. With cars, he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than himself. There was no need to impress people who didn’t care about him beyond his name or fortune.

Steve, his best friend, sighed. “Because we promised Tony we’d show up. He’s our friend.”

“You promised, not me. He’s more your friend than mine and he acts like I wronged him in another life or something,” Bucky said. Tony didn't outright hate him, but didn’t seem to care for him and loved to give him a hard time. “I doubt he’ll notice if I skip this.”

“He will notice and he’s not that bad,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, between Tony and Sam, it’s like you go out of your way to not be friends with our friends.”

Bucky didn’t comment on Sam for the time being. “Not that bad? Tony has the biggest ego in the city. I’m surprised he didn’t call the place 'Anthony’s' or plaster his name all over the building,” he said, tilting his head. “Given the outside, it wouldn't surprise me if the inside was just as bad.”

Steve snorted, used to his humor after all these years. “You’re in a mood,” he said. Bucky didn’t deny it. “Let me guess: another argument with your dad?”

Bucky hesitated. “What else is new?” He wished he could clock the guy, but he was his old man.

George Barnes couldn’t wrap his mind around why his son preferred cars to the boardroom and networking. Or why he chose to “destroy” his body with tattoos. Or why he wasn't dating an elitist. It was like he couldn’t stand that Bucky wasn't just another version of him. Thank God for his mom who encouraged him to forge his own path and respected his choices.

And, yes, she occasionally allowed him access to the family funds if he wanted or needed them because she adored him.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder.

They had grown up together, which meant they either witnessed or heard the ups and downs of their families. Steve wasn’t just his best friend, he was like a brother to him. He knew how his dad could get. And his dad was a good man most days, but he could also be a real pain in the ass.

“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he replied, looking at the sign again. “Never is.”

“It may not be my fault, but it doesn't mean I don’t care,” he said. He was lucky to have a friend like him. “Come on.”

Bucky felt eyes on them as they bypassed the line and approached the man at the door. Even if their names weren't on the list, the confidence he and his best friend carried would've been enough to pique the security’s curiosity. They also had enough money in their pockets to not necessarily flaunt their wealth, but to show that they had it. The same applied to their suits.

“Steve Rogers,” his best friend stated with just the right touch of pride. It was a fine line to walk between confidence and arrogance and he did it well. “And Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re on the list, but those aren’t the names the boss gave me and he won't let you in without them,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” Bucky shrugged. It was the kind of shit Tony liked to pull and he wasn't in the mood to play. “Let’s go, punk.”

Steve held out an arm to stop him. “Just wait, jerk,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the bouncer. “Golden Boy and Tinman?”

The bouncer to his credit looked thoroughly unimpressed instead of amused when he stepped aside to let them in. Bucky grit his teeth anyway, anger coursing through his veins. “That fucking-”

“Hey. It’s just Tony being Tony.” Steve trying to placate him wasn't working. “It’s better than Cyborg, right?”

Tinman. Cyborg. Tony tried to say the nicknames were because his left sleeve looked like a metal arm, but the man said in passing once that he was cold. Heartless. Just because Bucky didn’t show his emotions to people he didn't care for didn’t mean he didn’t have them.

“Tony being Tony doesn’t give him a pass to be a dick, Golden Boy,” he said, holding up a finger. “One hour. You get one fucking hour.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” Steve begged. The man with a heart of gold to match his hair and a pair of fists ready to strike for anyone who needed defending. Everyone in their circle looked to him as a man who always tried to do the right thing. “And fine. One hour.”

As they walked further into the club, vibrant energy surrounded them. Red and yellow lights cast a warm glow to create a welcoming ambience, while plush seats and sleek decor added a touch of glamor and sultriness. The bar, illuminated and inviting, beckoned patrons to select their drinks. The music was perfectly balanced, not too loud or overwhelming, allowing for easy conversation amidst the lively atmosphere.

Bucky didn’t want to give Tony too much credit and make his head swell more, but it was a nice place.

“So, where are we sitting?” He asked.

As if on cue, a woman in a smart black dress approached. Not a single hair out of place. “Pepper, good to see you,” Steve smiled at her. Bucky recognized her now. Tony’s personal assistant, had been for years. She did her job well and the man’s schedule and life would fall apart if he didn’t have her around.

“Good to see you, too. And you two are the first to arrive,” she smiled. “Right this way, please.”

Bucky looked around again as Pepper led them to a quiet VIP area flanked by a couple of guards. The space was just as bright as the main room, but above the center table hung a large, modern crystal chandelier: a focal point that hinted at the Stark fortune. The small stage set up at the back of the room surprised him. Was it for performers or merely for show?

“About time you showed up,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Tony Stark, the man himself, sat in the middle of a sofa with a glass of whiskey in hand. With his three piece suit and perfectly trimmed dark goatee, he looked very much like the king of one of his many castles. Even had on a pair of his signature sunglasses because who didn't like wearing sunglasses indoors? “Or did it take you old men a while to figure out the names? Told Sy not to let you in without them.”

An apologetic look crossed Pepper’s face. “For the record, I told him not to do that,” she said, gesturing for them to sit. Bucky opted to sit in a chair that he didn't want to admit was extremely comfortable. “But he never listens to me.”

“You still love me,” Tony called after her as she left the area. “No hard feelings about the nicknames, right? It’s all in good fun.”

Bucky huffed as Steve took a seat beside Tony, effectively dividing them. “First the nicknames, and now you call us old men? You look older than we do,” Bucky said, pointing to Tony’s hair. “In fact, I think I see some gray you missed on your dye job.”

As Bucky got older, he had come to love the gray in his own beard and hair. It was a good look. Maybe the right girl would appreciate it.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Barnes. Always a pleasure.”

“Stark,” he said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Never a pleasure.”

“Cut it out,” Steve chastised, giving Bucky an exasperated look, which only earned him a shrug in response. Did he expect him to play nice when he didn't want to be there? “Tony, the place looks great.”

“Of course it does, Rogers. Did you expect anything less? Though it’s always nice to get a compliment from you.” Tony set his drink down and tapped the screen of his phone, causing the red and yellow lights to switch to blue and white. “That’s your cue, Barnes.”

“Nice lights,” he mumbled, leaning his chin on his hand. One hour…

Tony scoffed. “Would it kill you to give a real compliment, or are you holding back because I own it?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Does my opinion even matter? You already think it’s perfect. I’m sure everyone else has kissed your ass about it, and I don’t feel like chapping my lips.”

Tony sat up straighter. “If I really wanted my ass kissed, I’d call your little sister,” he sneered, nudging Steve’s arm. “She’s free, right?”

“Tony, stop.” Steve warned when Bucky's jaw clenched.

“What?” Tony smirked more. “I heard she just got out of a relationship and maybe I can help her get over that broken heart.”

Bucky almost got out of his seat. Becca was a sweetheart and Tony didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her. “You even think about touching her, I’ll break your fucking-”

“Hey! That’s enough.” Steve sounded pissed off enough that they shut up. “Tony, he’s not trying to be a dick. He just wanted to work on a car tonight. Doesn't mean you need to bring his sister into it,” Steve said to Tony in a calmer tone, giving Bucky another look. “And you know he wouldn't fool around with Becca. You’re letting your fight with your dad get to you.”

Bucky slowly exhaled. “I know.” He felt a pinch of guilt. He had let his dad sour his mood and dismissed Tony’s club when Tony was at least nice enough to extend an invitation. It also wasn't fair to make Steve play referee when he deserved a fun night. “And I think we’re all varying degrees of dicks here.”

Unexpected respect and understanding filled Tony’s eyes, replacing his usual disdain. “Rather tinker with something than hang out here? I get it. And asshole fathers, I get that, too,” he said, downing the remainder of his glass. Bucky had nearly forgotten that Tony had issues with his own dad. “But let’s be serious, we all know I’m the biggest dick here.”

That brought a chuckle out of all three of them. It was the closest thing to an apology. “I would drink to that if I had one,” Bucky joked.

Tony tapped the screen of his phone again in a short pattern and the middle of the table rose up to reveal a decanter and empty glasses. “Top shelf and on the house even though you can afford it.”

“We’re still going to tip. You can give it to the staff working tonight,” Steve offered, pouring each of them a glass and passing one over. “And now that we’ve gotten some of the unpleasantness out of the way, can we get on with the evening? Please?”

The men nodded, but Bucky still needed more than one stiff drink to get him through the hour. At least Tony brought out the good stuff for them to indulge. “I have to ask, where are the rest of your friends?” He expected the VIP section to be overflowing with his usual crowd instead of being nearly empty.

“On their way,” Tony said, waving a hand toward the stage. “I wanted you two to get a private show with my new star because I have a feeling you’ll appreciate her talent more than the others. And when I say this one is special, I mean it. Voice and body of an angel. Or a siren. Whatever you’re into.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. A new star? That was why he wanted them to stop by? “Have you slept with her?” Steve asked pointedly. Bucky almost asked the same question. Tony had a reputation for a reason and being a member of his staff wouldn’t stop him from trying.

“Nope. Not this one. Not for lack of trying,” Tony said, checking the time before the lights dimmed. “She told me to ‘kindly fuck off’ when I hit on her and I gave her a raise because why the hell not?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “She turned you down? I like her already,” He smirked, instantly intrigued by this mystery woman who didn't fall for Tony’s charms like so many others. “I may even have to buy her a drink.”

“Just wait ‘til you hear her sing, Tinman,” Tony said, resting back against the sofa. “Even you will love her.”

A spotlight illuminated the stage when soft music began to play. The curtain opened wide enough for a stunning figure in a long red dress to step through. Bucky leaned forward in his chair, captivated by your beauty. His heart raced, and his throat went dry as your gaze met his. He tightened his grip on the glass, nearly downing it in one gulp as you moved toward the microphone, but couldn't look away as you smiled.

Where the hell did Tony find someone so enchanting?

Bucky waited with bated breath before you began to sing. One note. That was all it took. He was lost. Gone.

Yours.

Oh, I just had to end the intro there. 😇 I wonder what our reader is like and what she'll think of Bucky. @targaryenvampireslayer @yenzys-lucky-charm @ghotifishreads @tavners @holacia3 a certain edit may come into play later... 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy

solstråle engen ft. @wileys-russo 's fresa! sol struggles with school, and facing the threat of having to repeat the year, ingrid and mapi try to get her some study help. it doesn't go... exceptionally well.

—

It was more frustrating than anything. For years, you hadn’t really given school much thought, or put in very much effort. And then, suddenly, you’d been shipped off to Spain and everything was different. Everything changed again six months later, and suddenly, school felt like something that held a lot more weight.

You didn’t have many opportunities to make Ingrid and Mapi proud of you. Sure, they’d say they were proud of you when you asked for help while having a panic attack, or for setting some sort of boundary. That just didn’t feel… right. It didn’t feel like it was enough. They were bending over backwards, every day, to make you feel known and seen and loved, and the least you could do was show that they were helping you, right?

So, very suddenly, school was important. Grades were important. It seemed, though, that the years of not caring and not paying attention had taken their toll. Because you studied, and you actually tried but it wasn’t enough. Your grades were still… mediocre. Nothing to brag about. 

You worked harder, to no avail. You tried different methods of studying, you devoted hours and hours to your schoolwork, and… no improvement. So much of your work felt like it went way over your head. 

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be upset when you handed Ingrid the test you’d gotten back. She had a busy week and she really didn’t need you breaking down over a stupid test, like you had earlier in the school bathroom. Your plan was to bypass your sister and her girlfriend, head straight to your room, and maybe slam the door. If you acted angry, they were more likely to give you space to calm down, which meant there was much less of a chance you’d get all pathetic and upset.  

Only, you’d forgotten that Ingrid had known you were getting the test back today, having seen you study and study and study for it. Your sister was sure that since you studied so much, it must be a good grade, and she had a magnet all ready to attach your exam to the fridge. 

The minute you walked into the house and saw her waiting in the kitchen, freshly showered from training, an expectant and excited look on her face, you shrunk in on yourself, very suddenly wanting a hug more than you wanted to cry silently into your pillow all alone.

“How’d you do?!” Ingrid asked excitedly, her smile only faltering when your lip began to wobble. “Solstråle?”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out tugging the collar of your shirt up over your eyes before she could see you begin to cry. Ingrid’s arms were wrapping around you only a moment later, holding you tight against her as she floundered, confused as to what had upset you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ingrid promised, making eye contact over your head with Mapi, who had wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of you trembling against your sister. 

Ingrid thought something must have happened at school, and Mapi quickly came to the same conclusion. The thought that you’d done poorly on your test, and this was the reason behind your distress, never even crossed her mind. Ingrid had never known you to care much about your grades, and while you were trying harder now, she didn’t think something like a bad result could get you this upset. 

“I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You whimpered, briefly wondering when you’d turned into this person who cried at the drop of a hat and allowed her sister to hug you whenever you were upset. It was so different. Everything was so different. 

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, heart melting a bit as Mapi walked closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before perching on the counter. “Tell me, Sol, tell me what’s wrong.” 

Wordlessly, you withdrew from the comforting embrace of your sister and swung your bag off your shoulder. You unzipped it, pulling out the exam from the red folder Ingrid had neatly labeled for you. You handed it to her, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of all the red marks all over the first page. 

Ingrid’s first instinct was to sigh, but you’d been with her long enough for her to know you’d just shut down. Not to mention that she knew how much work you’d been putting into this specific exam. Prepared to ask you what had gone wrong, she looked up to see that the tears had stopped. There wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face, like you were preparing yourself to be yelled at. Ingrid had no such plans.

“Oh, Sol. Kjære, come here.” She said instead, pulling you back into her. There was some hesitation on your part, but after a second you melted into the hug, knowing that if Ingrid was upset, she would have told you so by now. “You studied so hard, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, frowning when Ingrid pulled back and placed both her hands on your face, tilting your head up to look at her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best, that’s all I want from you.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to stare at your shoes. You hadn’t taken them off at the door, breaking one of Ingrid and Mapi’s rules. This additional mistake, regardless of how small it was, made you feel even worse. You couldn’t do anything right. 

A tattooed hand grabbed yours, and you looked up at Mapi. She had moved closer, holding the exam in one hand, her other gripping yours. 

“This is a passing grade, mi sol. Why are you so upset? It’s not like you to get so worked up over school.” Your face flushed, but before you could step away, Mapi’s grip tightened, as if she’d sensed you were about to run. “Come on, it’s us. You can tell us.” 

“I.. It’s not good enough.” You stammered, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with genuine despair written all across your face. “I wanted to do well. For both of you., I wanted you to be proud of me.” 

“Oh, Sol,” Ingrid sighed, exchanging a look with Mapi that only served to make you feel even more foolish. It had taken so much for you to admit why you were working so hard, and though you knew, logically, that Ingrid wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb, she had. 

You wrenched away from her, suddenly deciding that you didn't need her pity. Backing up until you hit the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, you began to ramble. Unable to look either Ingrid or Mapi in the eye, you missed the sadness on their faces. “No, forget it. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It’s not a big deal, It’s my own fault, I’m too stupid to learn stuff my classmates already know-”

“Hey!” Mapi cut in, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You are not stupid. Don’t ever say that again.” 

You froze, staring at her with your mouth agape. Ingrid took a cautious step closer, aware she was toeing a thin line between you breaking down again, and pushing you into anger. 

“You aren’t stupid.” Ingrid echoed. “You’re not stupid, and you know you aren’t. It’s just one exam, Sol, it doesn’t make or break anything.” 

At this, you averted your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck. This exam could be a determining factor in your educational career. Ingrid just didn’t really know that information yet. Like a bloodhound, though, Ingrid caught the scent of your secret, her eyebrows raising as she stared at you. 

“It doesn’t make or break anything, right?” 

It was a staring contest for a few moments, one you and Ingrid both knew she would win, yet you kept it going all the same. The silence became too intense, the gazes of your sister and her girlfriend breaking your resolve rather quickly. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your bag yet again and pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope. 

Ingrid held her hand out expectantly, apprehension clear on her face. You handed her the envelope, eyes still training on the floor. 

“Solstråle. This is addressed to me.” Ingrid huffed, removing the letter from inside and beginning to read it. Mapi moved forward, peeking over her girlfriend’s shoulder, eyes quickly scanning over the letter. You braced yourself, prepared for the worst. 

The last time you’d brought home something like this… you’d ended up living in Spain. Which was potentially the best thing that could have happened, but you had a feeling the consequences of this letter wouldn’t work out as well. 

Your sister placed the paper down on the counter, raking her fingers through her hair as she thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Part of her wanted to yell, but when was that ever the right choice? Before she could decide, María’s shoulder bumped into hers. Her girlfriend nodded in your direction, clearly trying to get Ingrid to see how terrified you were. 

And Ingrid couldn’t yell at you when you were like this, all sad and scared with your head bowed and your arms folded across your chest protectively. 

“Sol?” She said, her tone much quieter and kinder than you were expecting it to be. You looked up at her, shocked further to see that she didn’t look very angry. “Why didn’t you give this to me last week when they sent it?” 

Ingrid nodded towards the date on the letter, and you exhaled shakily. “I… I was hoping I could just try really hard for the rest of the year and do really well in all my classes and it would be fine.” 

Your sister nodded slowly, reading the letter over again. 

Mapi took the opportunity to chime in, her hand absentmindedly resting on your sister’s back, even as she fixed her warm gaze on you. “Nena, that is a lot for you to carry all by yourself. Having the threat of maybe needing to repeat the year hanging over your head… you should have told us.” 

You shrugged, blinking away the moisture pooling in your eyes at Mapi’s tone. “I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” You mumbled. 

“You haven’t disappointed anyone!” Mapi exclaimed, frowning when you just scoffed in response. “I’m serious, Sol. We saw you study and study for this exam. You did your best, you’re doing your best. That’s all we can ask from you.” 

“My best isn’t good enough! I’m going to fail and have to repeat the year.” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. The mere thought of another year of school was horrifying. 

Ingrid finally put the letter down, a blazingly determined expression on her face. “No. You’re not going to fail anything. We’ll help you, we’ll reach out to your teachers, we’ll get you extra help. We’ll figure it out, Sol, but you’re not going to fail. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

For anyone else, that may have sounded overbearing. For you, though, it just felt supportive. It felt like you weren’t dealing with this yourself anymore, and that was a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Okay.” You said quietly. “Thanks.” 

Luckily, your sister knew you well enough to understand that after such an intense conversation, you’d need some time to yourself to process. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said, catching your wrist and turning you around slightly before you could leave the room. “I’m already proud of you, and the person you are. You could fail every test for the rest of your life, and I’d still be proud of you. Okay?”

You blinked at her for a prolonged second, before you nodded jerkily. Turning to head up the stairs to your room, you changed your mind, spinning back around and falling into your sister. She hugged you tight, as she always did, and you wondered briefly how you got so lucky. 

—

It was the following day that Mapi and Ingrid proposed their plan. Before they’d even said anything, you knew a few things. 

One, that they were excited about whatever plan they’d cooked up that day at training. 

And two, that you weren’t really going to have a choice in the matter. 

As a general rule, Ingrid and Mapi didn’t make you do many things. If they thought something was important, they’d encourage you to try it a few times, and then they’d let you stop if you still didn’t like it. That was how it had been for the school’s climbing club, the school’s hiking club, and the school’s baking club. All those were activities you enjoyed, but… activities you enjoyed doing yourself.

Well, not always.You loved to climb and hike with Ingrid. Frido, too, sometimes. And you could bake for hours with Mapi helping, measuring out ingredients and getting baking flour everywhere. But doing any of the above with strangers who spoke in rapid, fluent Spanish or catalan, was not fun. It was anxiety inducing. 

You knew this was about to be another one of those ideas, the ones you had to give a fair shot. 

It was at dinner, and you were trying to hide the wince everytime you picked up your water glass with your right hand, your wrist intensely aching after the time you spent in the climbing gym after school. It always hurt when you climbed for too long, though it was getting worse with every passing day. Another problem for another day, you decided, seeing the barely contained glee on Mapi’s face as she cleared her throat. 

“What?” You said suspiciously, putting your fork down and narrowing your eyes at the Spaniard. 

Mapi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Mapi’s made you a playdate!” She said, smirking when her girlfriend wacked her in the arm. 

“Ingrid, that is not going to help me convince her.” Mapi huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still unamused, you continued to frown at Mapi. “I’d love it if you didn’t keep proposing ideas that you’d need to convince me of. Teaching you how to rock climb, trying to get that stain out of my favorite sweatshirt yourself, being the keeper while you practiced your free kicks, helping you build that bonfire–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mapi dismissed. 

“You got stuck on the rock wall, my sweatshirt has a hole in it, the ball hit me so hard in the stomach I threw up, and both of us lost part of our eyebrows!” 

Mapi glared at you, while Ingrid hid her face behind her hand as her body shook with silent laughter. 

“Well this plan,” Mapi sighed, “is Ingrid AND Alexia approved.” 

That wiped the smile off your face. 

“Alexia? What does she have to do with this?” 

There were a few things you knew for certain about Mapi. One, she didn’t give up easily. Another, that she wanted more than anything for you to be friends with Alexia’s little sister. And from the sly smile on her face, you were almost sure you knew where this was headed. 

“I asked her to ask Fresa to tutor you!”

“No.” You said immediately. 

Mapi continued like you hadn’t spoken. “Fresa is a bit younger than you, but already finished your year! She’s studying to be a nurse, she’s very smart. Fres speaks English and she can help you with your Spanish and any other school things you need help with.” 

“No.” You repeated, looking helplessly at your sister. Ingrid looked to finally be taking the situation seriously, a familiar look on her face; one you knew meant that no matter how much you argued, she was going to get her way. Meanwhile, Mapi was still droning on. 

“–get along great with her! I think you guys have a lot in common, and it could be fun and educational!” 

“And you know all the best things are fun and educational.” Ingrid chimed in cheerily, this time her face telling you to go along with Mapi’s idea because she was excited about it, or else. 

“Educational.” You said sarcastically. “Super!” 

Still, you agreed, Mapi grinned at you, and Ingrid patted your back reassuringly. Mapi had a lot of bad ideas. You were pretty sure this would turn out to be the worst. 

—

You always spent more time at the climbing gym when things were rough. Back in Norway, you’d spend multiple hours a day, everyday, there. It was one of your tells; Ingrid always knew something was bothering you if you went to climb right after school. It was your way of shoving your emotions down before you could feel them, before your sister could read the hurt on your face and give you one of those tight hugs that brought tears to your eyes. 

Only, sometimes climbing didn’t do it. Sometimes, it felt like the walls were closing in, like you were about to suffocate, if you didn’t have some time completely by yourself to think. On those days, you really preferred to hike. You hadn’t felt that urge in a while; the urge to just disappear for hours, walk until your legs felt like they were going to fall up, and sit at the top of the trail until the world felt like a place you wanted to be in again. The last time had been back in Norway, after a day you didn’t even want to think about. 

Yet you found yourself in that same familiar mindset after your first study session with Fresa. 

It hadn’t gone well. You tried to go into it confident, sure that if you acted chill enough, she’d maybe miss that you had no idea what you were doing with your schoolwork. 

Confident, even as you arrived 15 minutes late. Scout had gotten his favorite toy, a small tiger that squeaked, stuck under the sofa, and it had taken you time you didn’t have to get it out for him. You could have left it, but Ingrid and Mapi weren’t home and you knew Scout would just sit by the couch and cry the whole time you were gone if you didn’t get his tiger out for him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him to be so upset. And then you’d had a hard time finding a parking space at the library, and the directions inside were all in Spanish and Fresa had texted you to follow the signs to the study rooms but you misread the sign and went to the opposite end of the library before figuring out your mistake. And you would have texted you were going to be late, because you hated being late, but your phone was dead and the cord from your car had gone missing. 

When you entered the room, Fresa already looked annoyed. 

Annoyed, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, twirling a pen repeatedly in an almost unconscious manner. She looked very… put together. 

“Llegas tarde.” She commented, rolling her eyes when you didn’t reply. Your face flushed a bit as she must have picked up on your confusion, repeating herself in english. “You are late.” 

Any other time, you would have known what she said. Your issue wasn’t really understanding Spanish, it was more speaking and reading it. You felt weirdly flustered though today, like your brain was distracted and not quite able to follow what the other girl was saying. Anxious, too, at this social situation you’d been forced into. 

Briefly, you thought about explaining about Scout and the tiger and the parking space and the signs being in Spanish, but then you realized Fresa wouldn’t care about any of that. So instead, you just nodded and apologized, feeling your heart start to pound from the anxiety of the situation. 

You didn’t like talking to new people. Especially pretty new people who spoke a different language and were looking at you like you weren’t very smart. Even if you thought that yourself… you didn’t want anyone else to think so. Any intention of actually asking Fresa for help with the mountains of stuff you were confused with went out the window, then, and you almost subconsciously decided to just… try to get through without letting her know quite how lost you were. 

Fresa was alarmingly smart. She kept asking you questions about your work, about what you needed help with. Everything didn’t feel like an answer you wanted to give. Fresa seemed organized, though, and you assumed letting her take the lead and decide what to work on would placate her. Instead, she just looked more and more annoyed with every passing second.

 She kept asking questions about this paper and that paper and you didn’t know what papers she was talking about. You felt so stupid. More stupid than when you’d failed your test last week. 

“How do you even find the right paper in there?” Fresa asked, pulling a judgemental look as you rifled through your bag, searching for the article she was asking for.

Your bag was a mess, you knew it was a mess. You’d knocked your coffee over all your folders a few days ago, sitting at the counter when Scout barked and startled you. That was oddly upsetting in and of itself because Ingrid had gotten you the folders and labeled them for you and you felt like you’d destroyed something nice she’d done for you. You hadn’t told her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything, so now your school papers were living crinkled and disorganized in your bag.

And you were pretty sure the article Fresa was asking for had been a casualty of the coffee incident, because you’d scanned the paper and thought it wasn’t important before throwing it out. The Spanish had confused you, and you hadn’t realized you’d need the article for an assignment. Stupid. 

 You were feeling more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed. And, maybe, your reaction to feeling embarrassed was always anger. You pulled out a random piece of paper, slamming it down onto the table with more force than necessary in your haste to give the Spaniard something. 

Fresa instantly knew that what you’d given her wasn’t the right article, asking again if you had it as you shoved the other paper back into your bag. 

Logically, you knew you should just… admit you threw it away because you didn’t realize you needed it. For some reason, you just couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, feeling shockingly like crying. Nothing was going right and you were making yourself look like an idiot and all you could do was shrug as Fresa looked at you and took a deep breath. 

Then, she seemed to come to some kind of realization, her expression softening slightly. 

“Can you not read this? The spanish?” 

You flinched, feeling your face flush. Again, the reply of ‘no I can’t, would you please help me?’ seemed to evade you. Instead, you spewed some lie about being able to read the article, calling Fresa’s questions stupid and telling her she was wasting your time. 

Fresa seemed to have reached her breaking point, her voice rising as yours had. You didn’t really hear what she said, much too distracted by the way her eyebrows knitted together when she was frustrated, and the way her hand tightly gripped the pen she was holding. 

Then, she made an offensive impression of your shrugging. And if you hadn’t been angry before, you were absolutely fuming now. 

So what if you were quiet? It wasn’t like you really needed to talk much, considering how many questions she’d asked. You were furious at being called out for all your bullshit, feeling like a mess compared to the perfect girl next to you. A very angry mess who’d had a long day and was cursing one María León for making her do this and cursing the beautiful girl next to her for being so infuriating.  

“Alexia’s super little sister. Everyone says you are so smart. Can you not see I do not want your help? You want to be a doctor, no? So go find someone who does.” 

Fresa’s nostrils flared as she shoved her chair away from the table and got to her feet. She began angrily putting her stuff into her bag, and you remained completely still, unable to stop this whole meeting from going up in flames. 

“Eres un maldita idiota!” Fresa snapped, her face red with anger. 

There wasn’t really anything worse she could have said to you at that moment. 

“Snobbete kjerring.” You threw back, feeling a sharp spike of satisfaction when she zipped her bag angrily, completely incapable of understanding what you’d called her. 

“You know, I did this as a favor, tonta. I have worked all day, I came right here after my shift, on time. I have my own studies to do because yes, I want to be a nurse. I am smart, and I know what I want to do with my life. Maybe if you get your head out of your own ass, Engen, you might too! And you are right, this is a waste of time. My time!”

Fresa stomped out of the room, then, and you waited until she was out of sight before dropping your head into your hands with a deep sigh. 

That couldn’t have gone… any worse. And though it was probably all mostly your fault, you couldn’t help the resentment building for the intelligent, stuck up girl that had thrown insult after insult at you, hitting you in all the places it hurt. You packed your own stuff up once you were sure you wouldn’t run into Fresa again in the parking lot or something, shuffling dejectedly to your car.

The overthinking had begun. Was it really overthinking, you wondered, if you’d actually completely fucked up and the reasons for your anxiety were entirely reasonable? You weren’t sure, and you supposed it didn’t matter, your thoughts quickly spiraling as you rewinded the short meeting in your head. 

The shrugging had really gotten to her, but you weren’t sure what else to do. When in doubt, you had learned silence got you the best results. Often, no one really cared what you had to say anyway. Fresa was different, though, looking at you with her wide eyes, expecting an answer. It was intimidating. It scared you, honestly, how well the other girl seemed to see right through you. 

And maybe… maybe there were some other feelings brewing. Ones you didn’t want to consider. Feeling that didn’t even matter given the way Fresa had stormed out. It didn’t seem like there would be another study session.

This led you to your other problem. You’d fucked this up. Something your sister and Mapi had gone out of their way to set up for you, because they didn’t want you to have to repeat the year. 

You didn’t like to make mistakes. Every single one you made carried the risk that Ingrid would lose her patience with you, and give up. She hadn’t yet, and you’d messed up a fair amount in the past several months, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that no mistake could push her away. That just wasn’t a possibility. So, rather than face your failure, tell Ingrid and Mapi how awkward and weird you’d been, you ran. 

Or walked, you supposed. Your study session with Fresa had ended at 4:00, and it was almost 8 when you found yourself at the top of your favorite trail, legs scratched and aching, as the sun slipped below the horizon. Your phone was still dead and now Ingrid was absolutely going to kill you for going off the grid. 

You broke traffic laws on the way home, any peace you’d found at the top of the hiking trail entirely gone as anxiety began to build up inside of you again. 

Stepping into the house, you slipped off your muddy shoes, wincing at the blood trickling down the few cuts on your legs. Before you could even set your car keys down, though, footsteps were pounding down the hallway towards you. 

“Oh, thank god.” Ingrid gasped, sounding alarmingly emotional as she rushed forward and crushed you into a hug. “She’s here!” 

“Dios  mio.” Mapi muttered, appearing over your sister’s shoulder a moment later. Ingrid pulled away from you, her hands on your shoulders keeping you at arm's length. Her face quickly transformed from relieved to furious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” She hissed. 

“I–”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were supposed to be home hours ago, Sol. Your location wouldn’t show up on my phone, Fresa even said you ended your meeting early,” Ingrid ranted, though you began to tune her out at the sound of her name. 

“You talked to Fresa?” You interrupted, ignoring the incredulous look on Ingrid’s face, turning your attention towards Mapi who was staring stonily at you. 

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. Where were you? Are you drunk? High? Were you fighting?” Ingrid demanded.

Each accusation felt like a bullet to the heart as Ingrid grabbed your chin and yanked it towards her, looking intently at your eyes. You shoved her away angrily; Ingrid wasn’t supposed to see you as that person anymore. She had promised that she didn’t, that she knew you weren’t a bad kid, that you had just been having a hard time. Now, though. She was looking at you like she didn’t trust a word that was about to come out of your mouth. 

“No.” You spat at her, grabbing your phone from your pocket and slamming it on the front hall table. “I went on a hike after I met Fresa and my phone died. I lost track of time. I wasn’t getting drunk or high and I wasn’t fighting anybody, but thanks for having some faith in me.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and even though you expected Ingrid to soften with a bit of guilt, she only seemed emboldened with anger. 

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You were supposed to be back four hours ago Solstråle. Four! This was so irresponsible. Do you not care that we were worried? Do you not care that we were here waiting for you? That Mapi made dinner, and you were going to work on her bike? Or that we were supposed to make cookies? After everything we’ve done for you, Solstråle, I expect more.” She was shouting at this point, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

You looked to Mapi, hoping for her to step in and talk her girlfriend down, but she looked almost as mad as Ingrid was, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“You are…. you are grounded. This is unacceptable, and you better never let it happen again. That is not how family behaves Solstråle. Did you think about how worried we would be? I am so upset with you, so disappointed that you didn’t think about anyone but yourself, that you were so selfish–”

“Alright, Ingrid. Enough.” Mapi cut in finally, stepping forward to grab her girlfriend's hand and squeeze it. You were frozen in front of your sister, fighting the sob that was building in your throat. 

Ingrid stepped back, her face still red with anger. A hint of regret flickered across her face at the sight of your lip trembling and the tears in your eyes. Still, you looked confused, and Ingrid couldn’t shove her anger down at your lack of understanding. She turned, stomping off towards the kitchen, leaving you and Mapi behind. 

“Sol-”

“I’m going to shower. Sorry, Mapi. I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pushing past her and heading up the stairs before the Spaniard could get out another word.  

Mapi sighed tiredly, rubbing her hand over her face. Her Engens were going to make her go grey. 

—

You had only just pulled some pajamas on after your shower when Mapi knocked, her gentle voice calling to you from the hall. 

“Yeah?” You called back, voice gravelly from all the sobbing you had done in the shower. 

Mapi entered, the first aid kit in her hands and a much calmer expression on her face. She was in her pajamas, too, clearly having been waiting up for you to get out of the shower. It had been a long one. Another thing to be sorry for, keeping Mapi awake. 

“Can I help with your legs?” She wondered, gesturing to the many cuts that littered them.

Shrugging noncommittally, you sunk down onto the edge of the bed, Mapi soon taking a seat opposite you. She pulled your calf up to rest across her lap, getting out the antiseptic spray and a few bandages. You purposefully looked away, barely having been able to get the blood off in the shower without getting light headed. 

“Are you okay, mi sol?” Mapi murmured, fanning her hands over the cuts so the spray would dry faster. Mapi had a way of looking at you, eyes crinkled with concern and kindness, that made you want to burst into tears. You fought that instinct. 

“I am fine.” 

Mapi sighed, unwrapping a few of the bandages and beginning to carefully put them on you. 

“Then someone else was crying in the shower while you were in there?” 

No reply came, and Mapi sighed again, tapping your leg to tell you she was done with that one. 

“Look, I know Ingrid was harsh, but you have to understand how worried she was. How worried we both were. I know you still remember the things you wrote in that letter all those months ago. Things like that don’t just go away, Sol, and when you disappear for hours without a word, we worry.” 

This time, Mapi got a shrug in reply, and a small sniffle. She finished up with your other leg, gently pushing it off her lap and pulling you into a soft hug. “It’s okay, Solstråle. Everything is fine now.” 

You scoffed through your tears. “Nothing is fine, Mapi. I screwed up with Fresa, I screwed up with Ingrid. They both probably hate me. Please, just go. I’m tired.” 

Mapi shook her head. “You’re upset, I just want to–”

“No Mapi, just leave me be.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice was shaking almost as much as your hands were, and you were sure you just came off as pathetic. 

“Alright, nena. I love you, hmm? Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

You remained silent, flopping back onto your bed as Mapi walked out of the room. Scout hopped up on the bed in her absence, licking your cheek twice before curling into your side. 

It wasn’t being too hard on yourself; the self hatred you felt in that moment was completely justified. You were very sure of that. 

—

You were tucked into bed when the door creaked open again, Scout not even bothering to lift his head from where it was tucked into the comforter draped over your leg. You blinked your eyes open and they widened in surprise at the sight of Ingrid walking into the room, hair messy as though she’d been tossing and turning. She neared the edge of your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I don’t hate you, okay? I love you very much. Everything is going to be okay, so just try to get some rest.” 

You nodded weakly, impatiently pushing a tear off your cheek with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, yes? And that’s all that really matters.” Ingrid promised, and you nodded, sniffling pathetically. “We can talk more tomorrow, but just go to sleep, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Love you.” You mumbled, Ingrid smiling softly down at her. You didn’t often say that first, something Ingrid attributed to having said it to your Mamma and not heard it back so many times. 

“I love you.” Ingrid replied, patting your cheek twice before tucking the covers up tighter around you, and heading out of the room. 

—

You woke up to a few unexpected things the next morning. One, it was almost 11 and Scout hadn’t woken you up demanding a walk. In fact, Scout was nowhere to be found. Two, the sounds of Mapi’s Spanish soap and Ingrid’s clanging around the kitchen echoed through the house. You’d forgotten they had the day off today. Ingrid must have taken Scout out to let you sleep in. 

The first two unexpected things, then, were explainable. The third… was not. 

A text from Fresa. 

Tuesday at the library. If you want to give it another shot. I think I can help. 

You thought about the way you’d behaved, and the way Fresa had spoken to you. Before you could delete the thread with her and close your phone, though, you thought about the letter you’d hidden from your sister. The excited smile on Mapi’s face when you’d agreed to let Fresa tutor you. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, you pulled the message back up, your fingers typing away without you telling them to.

Yeah. I’d appreciate that. What time? 

There was something that drew you to Fresa, even as she infuriated you. Maybe it was how her voice had softened when she’d asked if you couldn’t read the Spanish on the paper, or maybe it was how she’d smiled unconsciously, watching Alexia score a goal the past weekend. It was a nice smile. And she had a nice voice. 

None of it really made any sense to you, but you’d already sent the text. 

—

For some reason, you felt a bit awkward. There was something very odd about knowing Mapi had been upset with you, because normally that was just Ingrid. But you knew Mapi had been just as worried last night as Ingrid, and just as upset. She’d been in the garage all morning, too, and you wondered if she was avoiding you or allowing you to decide to come to her if you wanted to talk.

After the 5th time you glanced at the door to the garage, though, Ingrid rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the other end of the couch, typing away on her computer. 

“Go talk to her. She’s not angry, I promise.” 

Ingrid wasn’t angry anymore, either. You’d spoken with her practically first thing when you’d woken up, apologizing again and again and emphasizing that you hadn’t really realized how your actions would have affected Ingrid until it was too late. 

You’d told her about a time back in Norway when you’d stayed out all night after a fight with your Mamma, and when you’d come home the next morning, she hadn’t even noticed that you’d been gone. Ingrid understood a bit more, then, and was quick to hug you tight and whisper that she forgave you.

And even though Mapi had come in last night and tried to make you feel better, you knew she might have been waiting to be upset until she knew for sure you were okay. That made you even more nervous. 

Ingrid snorted from behind you when you knocked on the door to the garage, as normally you just walked right in. You shot her a glare, stepping inside the garage at the sound of Mapi’s quiet come in. 

The defender didn’t glance up as you walked in, but you took a seat in the chair next to her. Your chair. 

It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Mapi’s metal tool gently clanging against the bike. 

“What did Fresa say to you last night?” You blurted out, face flushing red because why was that the first thing out of your mouth. 

Mapi fixed you with a half amused look, shaking her head. “That is what you’re asking?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Mapi echoed, going quiet for a moment as she thought. “Not mad. It’s just hard for me, Sol. Last night, you didn’t even think that we’d be worried about you and where you were. It just makes me a bit sad.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not your fault, nena. I just worry for you.” 

You nodded slowly. “I’m really sorry. I should have thought about how worried you guys would have been.”

Mapi gave you a half smile. “I know you are. And you won’t do it again sí?” 

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you agreed, more sure than you’d ever been that you’d not be doing something that stupid again. 

“Now. Why are you so concerned with what Fresa said to me, hmm? What did you do?"

—

[solselah]

WHAT YOU NEED

TO KNOW ??

🚨Very truthful & may be triggering for some who aren’t ready to hear it quite yet ! Do take your time & feel free to Come back if need be :)

PILE 1 :

It’s TIME to move on !! Whether this be in love, a career, or simply mental ! There is something here you are holding onto like white on rice ! Like you’re stuck on this one thing that can bring you pleasure for the moment but doesn’t quite fulfill you in the long run ! I can tell you know this, but there is something pulling you in the same direction constantly ! From what I see, it’s because there is a big lesson for self-respect & it’s meant to be learned & accomplished by you. You know right from wrong, so your ancestors are waiting for you to take that step to release what it is that burdens you. You may overlook what I’m speaking of, and it might just hit you a little later which is okay. As long as you’re able to digest the truth !!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 2: I’ll say this ….

“The truth will set you free”.

under all circumstances!! And even though what you may be going through doesn’t seem fit for that saying, you are in fact a direct reflection of “The truth setting you free”. You’re almost good at lying to yourself to make you feel good. You need a powerful wake-up call. And btw, it’s not to harm you “further” it is to enlighten you about the things you’re actually doing and the karma for that. I don’t see the worst karma, but there are some lessons involved with you bypassing the lessons & TRUTH once again. The mask you wear can only last, but so long. The right person can /will come across you and either read you down or politely mirror back to you your Triggers & Lies. You’re obviously not a bad person, but it’s a thing you do that can definitely be cleaned up or removed in totality. You will learn 📚❤️

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 3:

You need to know immediately that the people who have wronged you or crossed you will receive their KARMA & you will be on the receiving end of justice. Whether this be judicial /Spiritual / physical etc. it’s important you view yourself as a Queen /King and step into your power accordingly! The path is clear and set for you & it’s up to you to take that step forward! Your guides are making it known that you would benefit from bringing a light-hearted energy into this new phase of yours!! It may be shocking or very sudden, but ultimately it’s a jump start to your desires. You’ve uncovered & experienced what’s not for you & it’s now time to manifest and attract what IS !!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 4 :

You do NOT need to kiss ass !!!! Whatsoever. You tend to overanalyze your movements! It’s time to wake up that confidence within you so that you can begin to change the outlook you carry about yourself!! Heavy self-love energy. It’s so important for you to indulge in self-care & healthy patterns just to assure you everything from the inside out is balanced & free from tension. You are waking up a confident part of yourself, and it’s completely stopping all self-rejection and self-doubt !! So just know you are absolutely on the right path and have so much to uncover about yourself!!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

Hope you enjoy ✨

IG: @soleccentric

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | eight

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, injuries, description of injuries, self harm, bad familiar relationships, PTSD

Nimue and Azriel had bid farewell to everyone else before heading towards the Spring Court.

They had left early in the morning, winnowing themselves to the forest right in front of Tamlin's mansion. There, Nimue had magically bypassed any possible guards that the High Lord or his cousins had placed in the territory, and they waited among the trees, among the bushes.

Beside her, Azriel had shed the calm demeanor the princess had known the night before. Now, with all senses alert, he was the master spy of the Night Court. Nimue, hidden from view with a simple spell, couldn't help but watch as the Shadowsinger blended into the shadows of the trees, sometimes glimpsing only his eyes.

"What's the plan?" Azriel asked. They were waiting, not knowing for what.

"I'll go in, convince them you were torturing me, play dead, and when they least expect it, I'll kill my cousins and Jurian. But first, I'll find out their plans; I'm good at listening behind walls."

Azriel frowned.

He wanted to trust her, to put all his blind faith in her plan. In his right hand, he felt the promise tattoo they made last night pulsing.

"Okay. Keep me informed; every night I'll visit you to hear what you've discovered. Even if you don't see me, rest assured I'll always be there covering your back," Azriel raised a hand from among the shadows and touched Nimue, his hand on the female's muscular shoulder. He felt a shiver run down his spine and immense heat under the glove, the princess's body radiating a warmth so familiar that it made Azriel's bones melt.

Nimue looked at him and with a quick movement, pulled him towards her, a superhuman force making Azriel almost lose his balance. She held onto him, an embrace meant to crush bones that Azriel gladly reciprocated.

They stayed like that for a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes, they weren't sure, sheltered in each other's warmth, in the calmness of the bond between them.

"Thank you for trusting me, Azriel."

Get her out of here. She's in danger, she's scared. We can't let her go with those people.

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the warnings of his own shadows, and took a step back, letting go of the female. He stayed there, hidden among the foliage shadows, and under his watchful gaze, Nimue raised a hand on which appeared a knife made of light.

What was she going to...?

Nimue grasped the handle of the knife made of her own magic, and began with her arms: from her wrists to her elbows, she made small but deep cuts from which blood soon began to flow, dripping onto the forest floor.

When the smell of her blood reached his palate, Azriel felt like he was going to vomit. All his senses focused solely on that, on the dripping blood, on how the female was cutting her own flesh. Something inside him, deep within his being, stirred.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" before he was even aware, he had already taken a step forward, grabbing Nimue's hands and pulling them apart, his gloves staining with the red fluid.

"They have to believe that you've hurt me, that you've tortured me and I've escaped. I'll say you drugged me with faebane and that in one of your oversights I managed to flee."

Nimue freed herself from Azriel's grasp, and continued with the task, this time she stabbed herself in her own thigh, staining her clothes with her own blood.

She felt her body starting to heal on its own, so with her magic she kept the wounds open and minimized the pain as much as possible to remain conscious even after losing so much blood. When she removed the knife from her thigh, she only felt a slight tingling.

Azriel felt like he was about to faint. All that blood, flowing in streams over Nimue's precious white skin, over the neat dress she wore and the undergrowth beneath her feet.

Nimue finally tore her clothes and made some final cuts on her face, and looked at Azriel.

Then she realized he was trembling, still as a statue and staring at her, his eyes wide. Around him, those shadows danced frantically from side to side, some bold enough to approach her and hover over her cuts.

"I'll be fine. Wish me luck, pretty face."

Azriel swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had seen it all, dismembered soldiers and people torn apart. By the Mother, he had done worse things to many people.

But seeing her like this...

They exchanged one last look, and Nimue started walking away, leaving the shelter of the forest.

The sunlight blinded her and she had to squint. She had chosen the perfect moment, as she just saw her cousins cross the mansion door and start descending the stairs. Behind them, the hateful human and the High Lord.

She had to focus on the cuts, on keeping them open, on mitigating the pain. She limped, dragging her right leg, her shoes soaked with all the blood she was losing, and when she saw her cousins looking at her, she let herself fall to the ground.

She searched every small corner of her being, every bit of anger she had suppressed over the last month, and pulled and pulled. She pulled until she felt herself explode, and let herself go.

She began to cry loudly, pretending false relief, letting out sobs typical of someone truly escaping from torture. Although in reality, she was just going back to the torturers.

She feigned relief when her cousins ran towards her and crossed the distance separating them in record time. She feigned relief when she felt them kneel beside her, asking her questions, starting to heal her wounds with their magic. She feigned relief when, between sobs and fake complaints, she began to answer them.

"They tortured me," she said. She took a breath and let out another false sob, this time her gaze fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, who were approaching cautiously. "They drugged me with faebane and tortured me. They're monsters."

Her cousins comforted her and ran their hands over her body, covering the wounds with their hands and closing them with that black and rotten magic that gave Nimue chills.

They kept asking her things and she answered, with little detail and between sobs: they had skipped a dose of faebane and that's how she had managed to escape, they had asked her about the Cauldron and her father's army, they had hurt her so much...

Her cousins bought it the first time, trusting their little innocent cousin, the king's beloved jewel. What reasons would the little princess have to lie?

However, between tears, she could see that Jurian didn't quite believe her. It didn't matter; sooner or later, he would fall too. And if not, she would kill him before he opened his mouth.

When they had healed all her wounds and the tears subsided, her cousins lifted her from the grass and led her carefully into the mansion. The blind faith the twins had in her was impressive, for they had also learned to see her for what she was: the key that would lead them to win the war.

They crossed the gate of the house and reached the vestibule. Before the doors closed behind them, Nimue glanced back, towards the edges of the forest, and with some effort managed to spot him.

Azriel stood there, astonished, following every detail of the scene with his mouth open. It had been so, so easy. And Nimue was so, so good at pretending.

A small pang of suspicion made it hard for him to breathe, but he soon felt the warmth of the tattoo on his right hand, as a reminder that he should trust, that he should trust the princess.

He fixed his gaze on her, on the other side of that clearing and inside the mansion's vestibule, and even at all those meters away, Azriel glimpsed the small cruel and rotten smile that the princess directed at him.

Here Nimue's plan began. Like a slow-acting poison, she would ensure to indirectly harm her father so much that he would think twice about even looking in the direction of Prythian.

The doors finished closing, and she turned her gaze forward, to her cousins, to Tamlin and Jurian, who a few meters away from her were discussing something quietly. She looked around, at the beauty of the house that Feyre had described to her, which, although somewhat neglected, was still just as intoxicating, when she felt a presence behind him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tan skin, the reddish hair. She didn't bother to turn around, but Lucien spoke low enough for none of those present to hear but her:

"You're not going to fool me, little princess," he whispered in her ear. Nimue turned slightly to look the male in the eyes. Amazed, she met the mechanical golden orb, while the other eye looked at her with suspicion and scrutiny. "I know no one forced you to escape from Hybern, I know what they're like in the Night Court. The others might not have noticed it, but the disgusting smell of the Shadowsinger was suffocating at the edge of the forest."

Nimue looked at him, a silly smile on her face.

"I like you, Lucien," she whispered back. She turned her gaze forward again, still feeling the male's presence behind her. "But I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucien growled and took a step back.

Nimue couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was going to be fun.

She had spent the day testing the waters, tempting fate with innocent questions, silently observing how the relationship between the Spring Court and Hybern's people worked. She excused herself from dinner early, and under the watchful gaze of everyone present, she left the huge dining room.

As soon as she was out of sight, she ran through the hallways she had memorized all afternoon. She knew which corners to turn and which corridors to navigate, and she reached the door of what was her new room. When she entered, she closed the huge wooden door and covered all the walls with her magical guards: nothing and no one could see, hear, or feel what happened inside.

She smelled Azriel's scent in the room above the touches of roses and fruits, but still didn't feel his presence. She kept looking and inspecting the room from top to bottom, absorbing every detail, when she saw something on her bed: the same candies that Feyre had offered her in the Night Court.

Nimue felt her body vibrating with joy, feeling seen and loved. That someone, anyone, had thought of her and had managed to get those candies there.

She took the first one and brought it to her mouth, immersed in that intoxicating sensation that eating something so delicious produced in her, and didn't realize that Azriel was there, among the shadows cast by the moonlight in the room.

He simply remained silent, watching her in the midst of that raid she was carrying out on the candies he had left there, so she wouldn't forget. So she wouldn't forget that her place was in Velaris, with them.

With us.

"I'm glad you liked the surprise."

Nimue wasn't even surprised. She just kept enjoying the candies, glancing over her shoulder at Azriel.

"I knew deep down in your heart you'd end up caring for me."

She turned completely towards him, mouth full of sweets, hands sticky, and Azriel could swear he would die right there.

How could he not care for her, when there was something inside him that melted every time he looked in her direction, when their skins brushed against each other?

"How has your day been? Are you alright, have they done anything to you?" Azriel's voice tinged with concern did not go unnoticed by Nimue, who, smiling at him again, dropped onto the bed. She patted the space next to her on the adorned quilt, but the Shadowsinger stood in front of her, looking down at her.

"They haven't done anything to me, don't worry. They wouldn't dare because they know what I'm capable of, and they've played their part well."

Azriel frantically searched for any marks of the wounds and blood he had seen on the princess's skin, but found that the only scars there were the usual ones, those covering the fingers of her hands and caused by all the hours training with weapons. He felt something inside him click again, his most primitive instinct to protect her relaxing when he saw her whole and unharmed.

"Good. I'll pass on everything you tell me to Rhysand, and if you need anything just ask."

Nimue bit her tongue. She needed something, but she wasn't going to ask for it out loud. She wasn't going to ask Azriel to stay there that night, next to her. She wasn't going to tell him that being back with her psychopathic cousins had stirred something inside her, that putting on that mask of the evil princess had brought her back to her former life, where her stay in Velaris would have been nothing but a fever dream.

They looked at each other, in silence, and it seemed that Azriel understood what Nimue wanted to say, even without her uttering a word. He held her hands, which he hadn't let go of all that time, and knelt in front of the princess.

"I'll stay guard while you sleep," he whispered. Nimue swallowed the lump forming in her throat and prayed to the Cauldron not to start crying at that moment. "I'll make sure nothing happens and you won't be alone. You rest."

Nimue nodded and quickly got into bed under Azriel's watchful gaze, and as she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him:

"In a couple of days, we'll be back in Velaris, and I'll make sure you show me the best bakeries in the city."

Azriel smiled tenderly, watching as Nimue drifted off to sleep, and stood guard until the sun was high in the sky.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @superspideyparker @bookwormysblog

[cloudlessly-light]

hellooooo can u write a sex scene with praise kink but from emily???

Title: Love like mine (9/12) Chapter title: I’ll make you wanna stay up Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,4k Rating: Explicit   Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, praise kink (I tried okay?) angst, feelings

Her heart is hammering in her chest, anxiety that she’s pretended not to feel only getting worse, spreading through her like something poisonous as she watches the number in the elevator light up. The sixth floor had been her own personal hell for the last couple of days, the place only reminding her of how badly she had messed up.

For two days he had all but ignored her, only spoken to her when he had to and barely looking at her when he did. She didn’t blame him for that, didn’t blame him for not wanting her in his presence. She hurt him, she knew she had and this was the price they she had to pay for it. The irony is not lost on her, that she had gotten involved with him in the first place because he was something that would be uncomplicated, and now here they were, way deeper than complicated.

She had gotten involved with him because he was married, he wasn’t someone who would hurt her. But she hadn’t thought about being the one who did the hurting. And now there they were, stuck. It didn’t help that she couldn’t talk about it, even with Dave’s knowing looks and Derek and Spencer clearly picking up on her sour mood, she couldn’t tell them. She couldn’t tell them because they would hate her.

As she steps out of the elevator she almost crashes into him as he’s heading inside, clearly in a rush. It’s karma, it has to be she thinks when they lock eyes and his hand is out to steady her and own hand rests on his chest for a second.

“Sorry.” She mutters as he steps back from her like she’s something foul. Maybe she was in his mind.

“Excuse me.” He bypasses her into the elevator and doesn’t spare her another glance as he pushes the button to the ninth floor where she knew the budget meetings were held.

It’s their first interaction without anybody else around, and it’s just as bad as she thought it would be.

“Aaron I-” She starts but he’s quick to cut her off..

“No.”

It’s one word, one syllable, and yet it feels like he’s screaming at her. She watches as he disappears behind closing doors.

It wasn’t supposed to be complicated. And yet, here they were.

*

It’s just about a week later when she’s knocking on the door to his office. She’s holding the files she’s finished for the night but for some reason she can’t bring herself to just drop them off like she normally would. It’s not lost on her that if this was only a few weeks ago she’d probably lock the door behind her, maybe bend over his desk just to get a rise out of him.

Now she just stands there awkwardly until he motions for her to come in.

“Leave them in the pile.” He says, voice sounding close to foreign, stiff in a way he’s never sounded before.

She leaves the files on the pile she knows he’s going to spend the night taking care of silently. It’s not until she’s reached the door again that she stops and turns. Her mouth barely opens before he speaks, like he knows that she’s about to try and apologize again, in fact, of course he did. He knew her better than anybody ever had.

“Emily, not yet.”

With that she closes the door behind her and leaves for the night, ignoring the fact that tears are burning in her eyes. This was her doing, she reminded herself.

*

“I never meant to hurt you.”

He freezes where he stands in a small conference room in Alabama. They were cleaning up, about to fly back home and she managed to find him alone. It’s been almost a month now, technically twenty-seven days, since they were alone together and he doesn’t know what to say.

“I never meant to hurt you.” She says it again and this time she hears his sharp intake of breath, like he’s trying to control himself. When he turns to face her, she’s almost taken back by the angered look on his face.

“Is that it then?” He can see the confusion on her face for a second but he doesn’t give her the chance to answer. “You come in here to apologize and that’s it?”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.” She knew he was upset, but the icy tone he had now was a tone he’d never had with her before, not even when she first joined the team. “I never-”

“Meant to hurt me. Yeah I heard you the first two times.” He doesn’t move closer to her and she stays on the other side of small room, like the conference table was some kind of barrier between them. “I know you didn’t. But did it ever occur to you that you did anyways? I know we’re in this mess and I know that you regret it, believe me I know cause you’ve tried to apologize every chance you’ve had. But did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to hear it? That I’m not ready for your apology?” He sees the hurt on her face and hates that his first instinct is to take it back. He hates what they had become, that he can’t seem to be in the same room as her without his chest feeling heavy. He’s wondered if this is what Haley had felt like, realized that maybe this is what he got for hurting her, his own heartbreak.

“You’re right.” She says and when her voice shakes with emotion she sees his dark eyes soften momentarily. She leaves without another word, hides in the bathroom to gather herself for a few minutes. When she looks at her own reflection she wonders when she became the worst version of herself.

*

It’s another two weeks before he seeks her out, knocks on her hotel room door late at night. It’s been a rough day for all of them, but for her especially. Everyone had noticed how she had bitten her nails even as she shrugged Derek’s supportive touch off and ignored JJ’s gentle words. She wasn’t fine, they all knew it but no one wanted to push, because that’s not how their team worked.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?”

He’s Hotch to her now, and he hates how the name sounds coming from her lips.

“I thought we should talk.” He walks inside her hotel room even though she doesn’t invite him in, ignores the way he’s greeted by creamy skin as he looks at her dressed in nothing but a pink tank and matching shorts.

“Now?” She stays by the door, leans back against it as he stands in the middle of the room. He’s always imposing, even when he tries not to be, but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look so uncomfortable. His hands are fisted in the pocket of his sleeves, his hair slightly disheveled and she imagined that he’s run his hand through it as he pondered knocking on her door. “You shouldn’t be here just cause you feel bad.” She tells him then.

“I’m not.” He meets her eye and hopes that she sees that he’s being sincere. “I was going to talk to you when we got home, because I know that we need to. But then today…” His voice drops off and she pushes herself away from the door.

“Today an unsub who rapes and murders women almost took me and now you feel bad that you put me in that situation.” She finishes for him.

“Today you were in danger and I realized that if something did happen to you, things would still be unresolved between us. I don’t want us to be like this anymore, and I don’t think you do either.”

“I don’t.” She agrees. These last months had been agonizing, awkward and tense, clipped words and searching glances. She had gone to bed thinking about him, her first thought when waking up was still him, and everything she wanted to say to him, everything she wanted him to know. Everything she couldn’t tell him.

“I know we said no feelings.” He starts slowly, treading the waters to see how she’ll respond.

“You also said that you weren’t leaving Haley.” She knows it’s her defense immediately kicking into high gear but he doesn’t seem offended.

“I didn’t leave Haley for you, we would have ended anyways I just didn’t see it back then.” He watches as she sits on the bed and he sits on the one chair in the room. “We said no feelings and clearly, we’re past that.” He says again and this time the small glimmer of fight she still had in her seemed to disappear.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” She mumbles, her hair falling over her face slightly as she looks down at the comforter. “I didn’t mean for this.”

“Neither did I.” He says softly. “But now it has. And you’ve been clear that you don’t want more.” When she looks back up at him her eyes are wide, dark orbs shining with sadness.

For a moment everything between them is silent, Aaron giving her the time she needs and then she speaks.

“I just- I don’t know how to be with you in the way you deserve.”

“If that’s how you feel, we need to find a way to get past this. Because I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want us stuck in whatever this is, because we can’t work like this.”

“I am sorry, for everything, for all of it.” She stands from the bed just as he stands from the chair. When his hand cups her cheek she doesn’t expect it and she finds herself leaning into his touch. It’s been two months since he’s touched her and she immediately feels the effects of it.

“I’m not.” He tells her, because he isn’t. If this is how they were going to end, he didn’t regret it. She had brought back sides of himself that he had forgotten, had made him remember how it felt to be truly content, even if it only were for a few hours behind the walls of their homes. “I don’t regret a single thing. I just wish it would have ended differently.”

“Me too.” She’s not lying, but she wasn’t ready for what he wanted. She wasn’t ready for the commitment that in her mind would only end up in more heartache. That didn’t mean that she still felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek when he took a step back from her. “Aaron, we will get through this right?”

When he smiles softly she feels some of the anxiety in her chest lessen.

“Yes. We will, in time.” He assures her, because anything else wasn’t enough, not if they were going to stay in the same unit and he wasn’t going to leave, knew that she didn’t want that either. “It might take some time, and I wasn’t ready before, but I want to work through this and if you do too, we can do it.”

She nods, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

“I want to, too.”

*

It’s not easy, but every day gets a little easier. He talks to Dave about it, still the only one besides Haley who knew, and watches as she gets closer to Derek. It’s not jealousy, not really, but sometimes he found himself wishing that it was him she’d talk to and joke with. Like she did before.

It’s not easy, but every day they’re finding their new normal. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t the occasional look or the longing for more. The attraction was still there, that would probably never change.

It’s not easy and some days Emily wonders if they’re lying to themselves. But then it’s been weeks and they’ve somehow managed to get into a routine where they pretend the last several months hadn’t happened.

Until that night.

It’s pouring down outside, the rain heavy and cold against his skin as he stands outside her building, but he barely feels it. Sometimes the wight of their job really takes its toll and knowing that he’s not enough is a pill too bitter to swallow. Today he wasn’t enough, wasn’t a good enough father because he missed another milestone in Jack’s life, Haleys angry message still on his phone. He wasn’t good enough of a profiler, because a young teenager lost her life. He wasn’t good enough of a leader because Spencer got hurt. He wasn’t good enough and he needed to get away.

The water drips from him when he knocks on her door, soaking the carpet underneath his feet as he waits for the door to swing open. When it does and he sees her, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

“I know I shouldn’t be here. But I needed to see you.” He says immediately.

She takes one look at him before stepping aside. It didn’t take a profiler to see the devastation on him. But even then, she knew why he was here. They had always been each other’s escape, apparently that hadn’t changed.

“Come in.” Her voice is soft, almost gentle and he passes her into her apartment.

He hangs his coat up and hates the fact that he already feels better. It smells the same, smells like Emily.

“I don’t want to talk.” He tells her and when her arms warp around his waist from behind and her soft lips press against the back of her neck he relaxes into it.

“I know.”

He lets her get him undressed before they’re even in the bedroom, her own clothes following and when she kisses him it’s with everything she’s held back for weeks. He groans softly into it, his arms wrapping around her to pull her close as they find their way to the bed, like so many times before.

“One last time?” She whispers in between kisses as he sits down on the edge of the bed and she straddles him.

“One last time.” He agrees, hands moving over familiar curves and soft skin. He breathes in her scent as he kisses down her neck, and when she moans as his hands grab her behind to pull her further into his lap, he licks the vibration of it.

He’s already hard between them, and she grinds into it as he continues to pepper kisses along her body. His lips wrap around her nipple and she gasps, feeling the heat of his touch and mouth quickly spread to settle between her thighs and she feels her own slick coat his shaft.

“Don’t stop, that feels so good.” She lets her fingers twist in his short hair to keep him from stopping, keeping his mouth around her nipples and chuckles breathlessly when his tongue play with the nipple bar. His hips push up against her in response to her breathy sounds and when he pushes against her clit her head falls back and her back arches, so he does it again and again, until she’s dizzy with want and she’s lifting her hips enough to align him with her.

“Fuck, Em.” He hisses at the tight heat of her, his eyes closed tight as she settles above him.

“That’s it, god no one makes me feel like this.” The words are whispered through labored breaths, and they seem to spur him on. She can tell that he needs the reassurance, needs to hear something good after the day he’s had, and she has no problems showing exactly how good he’s making her feel, especially after months of being without him.

She rides him, pushes him down flat on the bed and keeps her hand on his chest to steady herself as her hips twists and grinds on his lap. One of his hands stay on her hip, the other moves between them to toy with her clit and as he circles it she grunts, the sound raspy and low.

“Just like that, fuck Aaron just like that, so good.”

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he watches her, takes in the vision of her as she helps him forget about his day. He didn’t know exactly why he had gone to her, but as she whispered filthy words against his ear and clenched around him, he realized that she knew exactly what he needed. It wasn’t often he would let go, but with her he could and felt safe enough to do so.

It's only a few minutes later that she’s starting to tense, her hips buckling and thighs quivering and he circles her clit faster, pushes his hips up against hers a little harder.

“Come for me.” He tells her and she does. She comes with his name on her lips and body spasming hard in his lap. He barely gives her time to come down before flipping them around until he’s hovering above her.

“You’re so pretty when you come.” He whispers as he starts thrusting, making her feel the entire length of him as he fucks her lazily.

“No one makes me come like you do.” She wraps her legs around him, keeps his face in the crook of his neck as he speeds up. “That’s it, good, you feel so good inside of me.”

He’s pretty sure his teeth will bruise her when he bites down on her shoulder to hold back a loud grunt but she doesn’t seem to mind, in fact she seems to revel in it. He feels her slick walls start to tighten around him again and when her nails start to dig into his back he knows she’s getting close again. She was always so receptive to him, always had been and it only makes him fuck her harder, and she moans louder, her name falling from her lips.

“Don’t stop, you’re going to make me come again.” She pulls him into a breathless kiss, messy and more teeth and tongue than lips but the taste of him is the last push she needs before she’s coming, euphoria spreading through her until she feels like she can barely breathe. He’s close too, his muscles tight and jaw tense as he swears through clenched teeth.

“Let me hear how good it feels, let me hear you baby.” She pleads and he immediately lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and her name. “You fuck me so good.” Her eyes meet his and she’s sure he’s never looked more sexy, dark eyes blown black, sweat dripping down his temple, hair ruffled and hanging over his forehead, evening stubble on his face.

“C-close.” He grunts and she nods, desperate to feel him give in to his own release.

“That’s it Aaron,” She gasps when his fingers interlock with hers. “let me feel it, look at me when you come.”

And he does, his eyes stay on hers as he moans and grunts against her face, his hips jerking against hers as he gives in to the pleasure of his orgasm. They only break eye-contact when he collapses on top of her, his forehead on her shoulder and she carefully strokes his back with the hand that’s not interlocked with his.

“Thank you.” He breathes and she hums softly.

“Anytime.”

They fall asleep intertwined with each other and when he wakes up a couple of hours later he knows that he needs to leave. He doesn’t want to but he knows he needs to. When he gets out of bed she wakes up, bleary eyed as she turns to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers and she shrugs.

“I haven’t been sleeping very well.” She doesn’t need to tell him why, he already knows. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

He smiles, because he doesn’t want to say goodbye. That felt too final, so instead he takes her hand and squeezes it.

“Tomorrow.”

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - one hundred and two | time off

The shooting for Songbird was on hiatus for the next two weeks, and so its actors were trying to fill the time with other things. Jongho and Satbyeol had both visited you the first day of their hiatus to talk about their albums, neither knowing the other was going to be there, and arguing about who would get to monopolize you first. Yunho arrived about 20 minutes into a stare-off between the two, in which the tension in the room was palpable and you could not, for the life of you, understand why. He talked both of them down and the two of you convinced them to email Hongjoong for individual meetings with Crom3r. That finally got them to leave.

Yunho offered his services in keeping his coworkers at bay, by hanging out in the studio while you worked. You felt you could deal with either of them if they showed up again, but it was nice to return to form: you working on music while Yunho went over a script. He would, eventually, have to record another song for his character because of rewrites, but the lyrics had to wait until the rewrites were done. In the meantime, you and the rest of Crom3r produced the instrumentals, and waited.

A few days later the rewrites were finished and the lyrics came to the studio via one of the writers. Yunho arrived soon after and you got to recording his part.

His recording was quick, and afterwards he stuck around and talked with Hongjoong and Maddox about the show and his character. 

Your phone vibrated. You looked at the number, surprised to even see it grace the screen: it was your brother. You excused yourself from the room and went out into the hall. You sighed and answered.

“Hello?”

“T/n, thank god you picked up.”

“Hey, Intak. Why’d you call?”

“Dad’s in the hospital.”

The words hung there for a moment as you tried to figure out what they even meant. Hospital? Dad? He’s there?

“What?”

“He had a heart attack last night.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I… you didn’t get a call from mom last night?”

“You know mom would never call me. You’re the kid who did what they wanted you to do, I’m the failure.”

“T/n you’re not--”

“I don’t think that, but I know mom does.”

He sighed. “He’s awake and doing well right now. He has to have a bypass soon; you should come visit him.”

You thought.

“T/n?”

“Are you sure my being there would really help anything?”

He sighed. “You are his child. I think you should be here.”

“You think so, but do he and mom think so?”

“Listen, he’s our dad and you should be here. I’ll talk to mom okay?”

You sighed. “So should I show up anyway?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to them about it before they get here.”

“But what if they say no by the time I get there? I’m not going all the way out there just to come back.”

“You can stay at my place.”

“You live right near them.”

“I got a new place, on the other side of town.”

That was weird, you thought he loved living next to them. You thought for a moment.

“And we can see each other and at least… catch up? Haven’t you put me off long enough?”

You sighed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay. Find a way out here and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Alright.”

“Can you come out tonight? I think dad would appreciate that more.”

“Shit. I need to talk to my boss and I’ll text you.”

“Okay, let me know.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You hung up the phone and sighed. You were concerned but also, maybe not? There was so much bad blood between you and your family that any other emotion could only be stained by the anger and resentment that colored your childhood and teen years. You weren’t really sure how you felt.

You walked back into the studio. Yunho said something and Hongjoong and Maddox laughed at it. It was all so normal. You held your phone in one hand and the other just hung by your side as you stood still for a few moments, deciding how to say what you needed to say.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned to look at you. “Yeah?” 

“How does ‘time off’ work?”

“Why? Are you planning a vacation?”

“My dad had a heart attack last night and my brother wants me to go see him.”

Hongjoong, Yunho, and Maddox all shared the same expression: mouths opening and their eyebrows ticking up in surprise.

Yunho stood. “Are you okay?” 

“Are you sure you want to go see them?” Maddox asked.

“Let me pull up the PDF about sick leave and time off,” Hongjoong said as he turned back to his computer screen.

You held your hands up to Maddox and Yunho. “Yes, I’m okay. Yes, I’m sure I want to see them. Thank you both for asking.”

You pulled a chair over and sat as Hongjoong looked up the regulations. Yunho pulled his chair over to your other side and sat next to you.

“Do you know how much time off you have?”

“Oh-- I used a bit because of Doyun but I hadn’t even checked since we’ve been so busy lately. I’ll sign in.”

As you pulled your phone back out of your pocket and went to the website for timesheets and payment, you could feel Yunho’s eyes on you. “Yunho,” you said, turning to him.

His eyes explored your face, perhaps looking for the tiniest bit of sadness or despair or anything, so he could spring into action and help you.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded slowly.

You put your hand on his for a moment and tried to reassure him with a smile before going back to what you were doing.

“Umm, I have… a few days of vacation time.”

Hongjoong nodded. “I have a ton that I never use, I think I can give you some days if you need them.”

“I don’t think it’ll take more than a week to visit them.”

“I can give you days too.” Maddox added.

You shook your head. “I don’t think I need all that.”

“But what if you get there and they want you to stick around longer?” Yunho asked.

You looked at him, unimpressed.

“What if your brother wants you to stay longer?”

You sighed as you thought. The fact that Intak was the only member of your family that actually tried to contact over the years you meant that he at least didn’t want you out of his life. He’d even nagged you about not calling more often... You looked at Yunho.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You don’t need to go with me.”

“How are you getting there?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“What if I drive you there?”

“What? Aren’t you shooting soon?”

He shook his head. “We don’t go back for a week.”

“Don’t you have promotions or something, then?”

“We start shooting again in a week and promotions start again when we’re done.”

You sighed. 

“Let me drive you back. We can see my parents, they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You nodded. Yunho’s mom was like the mom you always wanted, you really wouldn’t mind seeing her again. “Yeah, okay.”

He put his hand on yours reassuringly.

“I know that you said you don’t want them, t/n, but please let Maddox and I give you a week each. It’s the least we can do.” Hongjoong said.

“But I don’t need almost three weeks of vacation,” you laughed.

“Consider it a present.” Maddox smiled. “If seeing your family is that bad, you can take a vacation afterwards.”

You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, okay… Can I leave now? My brother wanted to know if I’d be able to make it there for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re done with what we were doing. If the two of you want to go, you can.”

Yunho nodded and looked at you. You stood and put everything in your backpack. Yunho got his coat and then took the backpack from you eliciting a small protest that you let die when he smiled at you.

You turned back to Hongjoong and Maddox. “I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then.” 

“I hope your dad is okay,” Hongjoong said.

Maddox pointed at him. “What he said. I hope he’s okay too.”

You nodded again. “Yeah.”

Yunho opened the door for you and the two of you left.

  previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: Well that was unexpected. I guess she’s going to see her family after about a decade. Fingers crossed 🤞

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🎵 Any comments, reblogs, or asks are appreciated! I love talking with you guys and seeing what you’re saying about the chapters, it keeps me going 🥰

@luvvvx • @iamthehotdemon • @hrts4hanniehae • @rachs-words • @stayatinykatsy • @anythingrelatingtojinyoung​ • @jaytheatiny​ •

[viridiave]

forced myself into a state where i can actually indulge in 8path for exactly a day and I'll probably fuck back right into the void after this. but hey. hey. if you have octopath 2.

play the update. play the update, it's like god - we were meant to love and fear it

my full notes (live reaction reenactment) on the update under the cut, SPOILERS AHEAD!

NOBLE TEAM

IT'S FUCKING REAL

I STILL CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT'S REAL

HHHUH

THEIR SPRITES ARE LOWER RES BUT IT'S NOT STOPPING THEM

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE COMBO MOVES

WHAT

WHAT IN THE MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD IS THIS

FUCK EVERY POLL YOU'VE EVER SEEN ABOUT THE ORSTERRA CREW VS SOLISTIA CREW AIN'T NOBODY IS FUCKING SAFE

THEY CAN BOOST??????? HELLO???? FUCKING EXCUSE ME?????

god fucking of course Olberic has motherfucking BOLSTER DEFENSE

OPHILIA??? COUNTERS???? ELEMENTAL AND FUCKING PHYSICAL??? SINCE WHEN

OPHILIA AND ALFYN TAG-TEAM FUAOSJAKSAKSKA THEY HAVE MOTHERFUCKIGN COMBO MOVES????

OH MY GOD TRESSA AND OLBERIC TOO

MY ASS IS DEAD IT'S SO DEAD

NO OF COURSE HOLY SHIT OF FUCKING COURSE TRESSA ALSO HAS MOTHERFUCKING HIRED HELP AKJKAS

ophilia's buff rotation is interesting. i can't tell if she's going right-side down or if she's actively prioritizing certain members

WAIT THEY HAVE NEW VOICE LINES

HOLY FUCK????

i NEED to see the battle AI. show me the specs Square Enix I fucking beg you.

ALFYN'S CONCOCTS ARE SO MEAN OH MY GOD

CASTTI CAN DO FIVE AT ONCE BUT IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER TO ALFYN

why did i try and face them with Noble Team members too

well okay i guess. i guess we'd just be straight-up dead if i didn't have castti teme and partitio here jesus Hikari's carrying damage

too bad i never use him as DPS

WH

TRESSA

TRESSA NO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU INCREASE DEFENSE WHEN YOU GET BROKEN

TRESSA WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL BUY MY FUCKING WEAPONS

WHA

WAIT YOU DIDN'T EVEN GIVE ME MONEY FOR IT I HAVE TO BUY IT BACK FROM YOU

Therion was a bad influence on her lmao

AND OLBERIC'S NOT WEAK TO STAVES RIP

WHY IS TRESSA WEAK TO STAVES

my ass is so fucking cooked

WH

THEY HAVE FUCKING JOB CHANGES?????

OH MY GOD SCHOLAR OPHILIA IS CANON

THEY HAVE NEW MOVES I'M DEAD I'M SO FUCKING DEADDDDD

WAIT

HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

HUNTER ALFYN

I FEEL UNREASONABLY FUCKINGVALIDATED AKSJAKSAKSKAS

oh god what are Tressa and Olberic

hOLD UP ALFYN AND HIS ARROWS WAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT THE HELLLLL

oh.

oh my god.

w. warmaster olberic

wARMASTER OLBERIC IS REAL

….NOOOOOOOO I'M SO FUCKING DEAD WARMASTER OLBERIC IS REAL IT'S OVER IT'S SO OVER I'M DEADDDDD TO HIMMMMM

sidenote: i'm writing all of this after the fact, trying VERY hard to recreate my real-time reactions. and uh. this. this made me get up from my fucking chair and scream into a pillow so loud people thought i was getting anal

I didn't

oh. wait. if. if he's real.

and Tressa's on the field.

there she is. the motherfucker herself.

RUNELORD FUCKING TRESSA

I WAS DEAD BEFORE NOW I'M IN MOTHERFUCKING SUPER HELL. THERE WAS NEVER A CHANCE

NO OH GOD HERE IT COMES TRANSFER FUCKING RUNE

WE'RE PAYING FOR OUR HUBIRS WITH BLOOD AND THE SCREAMS OF THE DAMNED

…WAIT HOLY SHIT ALFYN AND OPHILIA ARE IN THE RED

THERE'S A CHANCE

THERE'S A CHANCEEE

HIKARI'S POPPING THE FUCK OFF

oh my god of course Brand's Blade is a 1 hit KO move

i'm scared. i don't want him to wreak havoc on me i need to keep fucking breaking him -

ALFYN'S DOWN

HE WAS THE MOST DANGEROUS ONE THAT'S GOOD

OPHILIA DOWWWWWNNNNNN

ALRIGHT JUST. TIME FOR THE 2 GOD MODE TRAVELERS I GUESS

god it'd be so mean if i saved Olberic for last. but he put that on himself he has motherfucking Physical Prowess as a passive

oh no Temenos is the only thing that can kill him huh.

OF COURSE HE GOES FOR THE FUCKING MAGE EVERY TIME

WH

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE RUNES BYPASS SIDESTEP???? THEY'RE ELEMENTAL NOW????

H E L L

OH SHIT TRESSA'S IN THE RED THERE'S A FUCKING CHANCE

TRESSA'S DOWN

alright 4 travelers at full health with sidestep and defense buffs out the ass. we'll be good we'll be good we can weather olberic. thank you Prayer for Plenty

THIS FEELS MEAN I REGRET IT NOW LMAO

THAT DIDN'T KILL HIM

oh no his full buffs

WAIT NO HIRED HELP BEASTLINGS. JUST ONE MORE

FUCK YEEEEE

w

what

wha wha what the fuck wai

w-wait

hu

H H U H

OPHILIA YOU WERE DEAD HOW THE FUCK DID YOU REVIVE EVERYONE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?????

WAS THAT JUST PHASE 1???

NO

NOOOOO WE'RE SO DEAD

oh wait they're changing back

…oh no. they're more dangerous like this somehow

WAIT

WHAT'S HAPPENING HUH

WHY DID HE CHALLENGE HIKARI WHAT

WAIT WHY IS IT ONLY THEM

HOW LONG DOES THIS FUCKING LAST FOR?????

they're just in a cycle of countering and evading jesus

oh ok that answers tha -

TR

TRESSA

TRESSA WHAT THE F U C K

TRESSA GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY BACK WHAT THE FUCK??? WHAT THE FUCK

HIRED HELP BEASTLINGS WAS THE ONLY WAY I COULD BREAK THEM THAT'S SO MEAN

oh my god i'm dead

TRESSA WHAT THE FUCKA SKAJSAKS SHE CALLED OVER THE FUCKING??? ROGUE CREW??? HOW

WHAT

WHY

WAIT

WAIT SHIT I'M JUST DEAD

…i need to lie down

ROGUE TEAM

okay rogue crew what do you have for me

i'm so scared oh my god

GOD

WAIT

THERION YOU SON OF A BITCH GIVE ME BACK MY ITEMS

THEY HAVE INCIDENTAL ATTACK???? FUCK OFFFFF

LINDE'S HERE

…OH FUCK LINDE'S HERE

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN CYRUS CAN LOCK HIS FUCKING WEAKNESSES

god of course he's DPS in this fight. cyrus is just. too much man

of course Cyrus is weak to Swords. and Daggers apparently

WA

WAIT WHAT

PRIMROSE???

FUCKING HELL

WELL OK PRIMROSE SAID HAPPY PRIDE MONTH SHE JUST ALLURED THRONE

O WAIT POG PRIMROSE AND THERION COMBO

SO

OH THERE IT IS CYRUS AND H'AAN COMBO!!!

…WHY ARE THEY BOTH SO BUSTED

did

did Cyrus just. give me a weakness.

what

what the fuck

AY YO WHAT THE FUCK

yeah ok i'm dead.

i'll. i'll try again later i need to see how Noble Team plays out till the end

ALRIGHT WE'RE BACK IN THERE WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR ME ROGUE CREW

FUCK I FORGOT THIS WAS THE FIGHT WHERE CASTTI'S USELESS

oh my god they're cooking. i feel so unsafe. Therion is even more of a little bitch than usual

ALRIGHT GOD GUESS I'LL FUCK MYSELF WE'RE DEAD IKE 5 MINUTES IN LMAOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I FORGOT H'AANIT HAS FUCKING PATIENCE

you know what Temenos doesn't need. Salt the Wound. why the hell did I put that on him

HOW LONG DOES ALLURE LAST FOR JESUS

oh my god Ochette. Ochette's Beastly Claws are NASTY damage woah. I need to make her do that more often

WELL ALRIGHT CYRUS IF YOU'RE GONNA BE A BITCH LIKE THAT

i wonder if they had to get chris niosi back for this role or if they just. had all these extra voice lines lying around

still not over the sprite quality being so drastically different lmao

hired help Beastlings save me. save me Hired Help Beastlings

O-OH. OH NOOO…

DAMN WHY CAN'T I HAVE THIS MUCH LUCK WITH BEWILDERING GRACE???

sidestep is saving my ass right now

I love that Primrose keeps piling her buffs onto H'aanit Square Enix said happy pride

HUH

MERCHANT THERION IS REAL LMAO

…OH NO DIVINE WIND

HE JUST STOLE OUR FUCKING LICENSES AKSJAS FUCK YOU THERION

AH THERE HE IS AKSJASK SORCEROR CYRUS - WAIT WE WERE ACTUALLY INTIMIDATED BY THIS STEPHEN STRANGE LOOKING TWINK LMAO

UNFORTUNATE

STARSEER PRIMROSE OF COURSEEEEE

AND THERE'S WARRIOR H'AAN JUST TO ROUND IT OUT

GANG'S ALL HERE SQUARE ENIX HAS SPOKEN

i could say i'm surviving but. the reality is that all 11 of my plums are GONE

alright Grail of Life don't fail me now

GOD OF COURSE SHE'D TARGET PARTITIO WHO HAS THE FUCKING DIFFUSE

alright time to stall

AAAAA THERION'S DOWN THANK FUCK

AIGHT SEE YA PRIM

CYRUS DOWN. STAY DOWN.

H'AAN LEFT ALRIGHT COME AND FUCK ME UP PHASE 3

what

what the fuck

i get ophilia and the aelfric thing but what the fuck happened here

NO FUCKING WAY THERION JUST STOLE OUR EX MOVES

GODDAMNIT TEMENOS IS USELESS NOW

GODDAMNIT TEMENOS IS EVEN MORE USELESS NOW AKSJA PRIMROSE STOP TAKING HIM

oh my god what do you mean H'aanit can also Provoke all

LINDE PHYSICAL PURSUIT I'M IN HELL

and Cyrus has. delayed attacks.

…good thing i never lasted long enough to figure out if that thing 1-hit KOs JESUS

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Anael Prompt Response

Summary: Anael calls you to pick her up after she leaves Cas back at the Emporium. Having just come off of a rough hunt, you're really not that inclined to be at the angel's beck and call.

Pairing: Anael x Female!Reader; Anael x Female!Huntress Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). For Anael's version of this prompt response, I had quite a few ideas that got written but just didn't seem to work out for one reason or another. Eventually, I settled on this and the more I wrote it, the more it felt right to me. So, I hope it's okay.

This is meant to take place right after 14x17.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: mentions of drug-like usage/using behavior; implied sex; mentions of child death

Word Count: 4186

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Anael Taglist: @nancymcl; @brightlilith

You can also read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version

Your phone started to buzz on the table and when you glanced at the screen, you let out a snort. You seriously contemplated letting the call go to voicemail but you figured that would be more trouble than it was worth in the end. You swiped up on the screen and held the phone to your ear. 

“Yeah,” You greeted.

“It’s me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know. What do you want?”

You heard her scoff on the other end. Good, maybe she was finally getting the message. “Wow, bypassing the small talk and getting right to it, huh? Why, I’m doing well, Y/N, and thanks for asking. I’m so glad I called.”

You wiped your hands on a rag. “Cut the crap, Ana. You and I both know you wouldn’t have called if you didn’t need something. So, what do you need?”

She was silent for a moment and you could just imagine the scowl on her face. “I need a ride,” she sniffed.

“A ride?” You nearly laughed. “Last I checked, you’re an angel. Can’t you, you know, fly wherever you need to?” You knew you were being a bit of an ass but you didn’t care; it was better this way.

“You know I can’t fly.” You could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone. “And even if I could, with everything that’s going on right now, it’s better to keep a low profile.”

“Michael’s gone, Ana. Well, that Michael anyway. You don’t need to worry anymore,” you assured her, a bit of compassion leaking from your tone. You couldn’t help it; you’d seen how unsettled she’d been after Michael, who was wearing Dean Winchester at the time, paid her a visit. She’d almost looked scared and as she told you all too often, angels didn’t get scared. It had taken some coaxing (not as much as you expected though) but you managed to finally get her to do the right thing and call Sam Winchester to give him a heads up about his brother’s location as well as Michael’s plan. That was the thing about the angel you were currently on the line with. She talked a big game and pretended she didn’t care, she appeared to only be interested in money, couture, and having the table tilted towards her. However, you knew differently.

For instance, when she counted money, yes she was committing the amount to mind, but she also did it as a nervous tic (which was weird for an angel to have). While as a super-strong celestial being she could brazenly count her money anywhere in front of anyone and never worry, she never did it in front of the people she was helping. “Bad for business.” That’s what she’d told you when you first asked but you noticed that she counted the same bills that she had counted an hour beforehand and the amount hadn’t changed. There was something comforting to her about having the cash in hand, whether because she had been smart and made it on her own, or it gave her a sense of freedom from the existence she had known previously as well as instilling a feeling of value within her. Before she’d been a button pusher and punished for asking questions; now she was a self-made businesswoman and her own boss, answering to no one.

She also appeared to be vain and completely full of herself, thanks to her vessel’s beautiful looks and how she presented herself through the actual Jo. Though through your association together, when she believed you and the others weren’t looking, you caught her healing a hurt child or a sick old woman without asking for any form of payment. You’d gotten to know her and you believed there was a good side to her, when she wasn’t being self-serving that is. But then again what did you know about celestial beings? 

Which is what had you straightening up and clearing your throat quietly, removing all softness from your voice. “So you can get someone else to pick you up, hell take an Uber for all I care, but I’m in the middle of something and I can’t just drop everything to come get you whenever the hell you decide to call.”

Silence.

You tossed the rag you had been using onto the workbench. You had been changing the oil on your car, having just arrived back from a particularly brutal case the night before. Maintaining the classic car you drove, keeping to routine, that was your own source of comfort. You waited for her to respond to you, most likely some snippy yet witty reply. Most other hunters might not be willing to risk pissing off an angel, but Ana was no ordinary angel and you weren’t any other hunter. You two might not have the bond Dean Winchester had with Castiel, but you and Ana seemed to share an understanding. Well, most of the time.

“How bad?”

“What?”

“How bad?” She repeated. “The case. How bad was it?”

You hung your head, pressing your lips into a thin line. She definitely knew you more than you gave her credit for. “Pretty bad,” you mumbled.

“Your crew?”

You let out a breath. “Still all accounted for. Though they’ll be taking a well-earned short vacation for the time being.” The truth was you all needed a breather after that.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Come pick me up,” she urged, not sounding so demanding this time. “I’m not that far from you.”

This wasn’t a good idea. “Ana, I don’t—”

“Come see me,” she coaxed softly. “You need me, I can tell.”

Your reflex was to automatically protest her words. “I don’t need—” But then you thought about how you hadn’t slept a wink since what happened and how you’d had to consistently bury yourself into something to occupy your mind, trying not to think of the sound of the kids’ screams or how they’d looked after. You also thought about how you were running on fumes, hanging by a thread, and you were struggling really hard to put this one behind you.

“You do,” she insisted, almost as if she heard your thoughts. 

You thought it over for a moment. You really could go for a drive, to try to clear your head if for nothing else. But at the same time, you wanted your space and company was the last thing you wanted, especially hers. She had a way of seeing right through you; you supposed it was her being an angel and all. But right now all you wanted to do was curl into yourself and retreat from the world until things in your head made sense again (because the world never would). 

“Y/N,” she tried again, her tone still gentle yet also letting you know she wasn’t going to let this go. The more you resisted, the more she was going to push. Even if she did indeed have to get a ride from someone else. You could almost guarantee, somehow, someway, she’d be on your doorstep before the night’s end. 

Fuck it. You sighed and moved over to the sink to wash your hands. “What’s the address?” 

You watched as Ana approached the old pick-up you’d chosen to drive instead of your car, opting to stay lowkey, and she got in. Her brown eyes were intent on you from the moment she settled into her seat. You knew she could see just how broken you were after last night, how you were barely hanging on, and you hated it.

“Find us a place,” she commanded.

You shot her a look. “Ana…”

“Find one.” Her tone brooked no argument.

You flashed a glare over at her but shifted the truck into gear regardless and did as she said. You knew she wouldn’t let up until you did.

You coasted to a stop and put the truck into park before turning it off. You had found an inconspicuous spot at what looked to be a park for bike riders, power walkers, and wanderers alike. There appeared to be a pond in the middle and ducks were floating along the glassy surface that was studded with flowers and lilypads. The wind rustled through the trees and the sun was just starting to sink down behind the mountains, painting the sky in hues of pink, purple, yellow, and orange — a marriage of shades of color that Man had not been able to replicate entirely, leaving Nature as the sole artist to achieve that palette. It was beautiful and all you could think about was how the family you’d tried to save would never get to see a sky like this ever again (or any sky for that matter). It poured salt into the wound when you spied two young children running around, laughing, as their mother playfully chased after them, smiling wide. You hoped they would stay as happy as they were in this moment and that they would never know the horrors that you knew all too well, that they would never know what existed in the shadows of this world around them, just waiting to gobble them up and snuff them out.

“You’re not injured,” Ana determined, her penetrative gaze still roaming over you. “Not physically at least.”

Your eyes flickered to hers and you gave her a look, but you didn’t say anything before you turned back to the sunset.    

You felt her hand begin to cover yours and you moved it quickly away, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Ana…”

“Y/N.” She sounded completely unfazed by your pulling away, so much so that you turned to look at her. She was focused on you, her eyes never moving from yours, as she reached out to you. “Let me help,” she urged.

“Ana, I don’t think—”

She huffed out an impatient breath. “That’s your problem. Stop thinking.” She slid closer to you in the bucket seat and her hands framed your face. “Let me help you,” she murmured before leaning in and placing her lips over yours.

As expected, a warm tingly feeling shot through you from where her lips and hands connected to your skin. It was almost like that warm feeling you get in your gut after taking your first shot of liquor that feels like fanning an ember back into a slow-building flame. Though this particular warmth was now throughout every single inch of your body, touching every single cell of your existence. And it grew and grew until a huge wave of warm and light washed over you. Once it did, your head slowly fell back against the headrest and a bright blue-white haze covered your vision. You could see Ana smiling down at you, from her perch on your lap that she had somehow moved into during the kiss. She looked even more beautiful in this light though you still couldn’t see past the face of Jo to Ana’s true form. That disappointed you a little though you expected it. She had told you some time ago that you would never be able to see it, that it was dangerous to humans if they tried and could even prove fatal. It still didn’t mean you didn’t want to see a glimpse of it though someday. You had no idea why you wanted to see it; you just did.

Ana moved some loose strands of hair out of your face. “There. Feel better?”

“Mmm.” You slowly closed your eyes, enjoying the feelings coursing through you. “Much.” It was true. You felt like you could jump out of the truck and go run a 5K or climb the highest mountain without having to take one single break. You even felt like you could swim the English Channel. It was amazing what a little angelic grace could do to the human body.

“Good.” She laid her hands against your cheeks and forced your gaze up to meet hers. You noticed that she was inches from your lips again. “Now, take me somewhere nice.”

The nicest place ended up being a motel on the edge of town (the best room they had of course, one that the clerk assured Ana was cleaned regularly while he looked clearly annoyed that she had the nerve to ask) where you holed up for the next day or so. It was a blur of moans, tender caresses, and grace injections as you’d come to refer to them. Each time you were about to crash, Ana would take your angel blade and cut a tiny slice on the skin of her neck that immediately glowed bluish-white. You loved it when she did that because you would latch your lips to that spot and consume the little bit of grace you could get before the wound closed, and she would arch her back before prettily moaning into your ear, gently holding the back of your head to that spot.

You weren’t a grace junkie as Ana liked to call you sometimes but you couldn’t deny that when she offered up trace amounts of grace like this, especially when you needed a boost, you absolutely took it. In your line of work, with what you’d see on the daily, how could you not take it when offered? The thin thread you’d been hanging on now felt as if it wouldn’t snap so easily, like it had been fortified in steel or something. But at the same time, you hated yourself for allowing the energy into your system, allowing her to be the one to feed it to you, though you would never take it from any other angel.

One of the rare moments in between injections, Ana was laying next to you, holding herself up by her elbow, her head in her hand as she studied you. You were on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Feel like talking about it now?”

You briefly glanced over at her, huffing a laugh, as you folded an arm behind your head. “Is that what this was all about? Getting me to talk about it?”

“You were in pain,” she defended.

Your eyes met hers and you could see the tender concern behind them. It always caught you off guard, the genuine care she seemed to have for you. That certainly hadn’t been the case when you two first met. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you’d held an angel blade to her throat, demanding to know where a certain rogue angel was located. And now, here you were…in this very weird space otherwise known as your working relationship.

You supposed she was right; you had been in pain, in a way. You turned your head to stare back up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at Ana for this part. “It was a Rugaru. It got to a family before we could stop it.” You briefly squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting those images to come back. “It was feeding on the two small kids when we got there. The parents were already gone. The screams, Ana…” You shook your head. “We killed it right there. But, um, it was too late for the kids.” You wiped a stray tear that had made its way down your cheek. “They hadn’t even made it to double digits yet.” You clenched your jaw. “We should have figured it out and gotten there sooner.”

Ana tenderly brushed hair away from your face. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it is,” you whispered. “Any other hunter would have picked up on what they were dealing with and saved that family.”

“Okay, first off, that’s not true. Second, you were not the only hunter there. And third, who’s to say if other hunters had been in your place that they would have been able to save the family?”

“They would’ve. Had it been the Winchesters, they definitely would’ve.”

Ana gripped your chin and turned you to look at her. “Don’t do this to yourself. The monster killed that family, not you. And you put an end to it so it will never hurt anyone again. You hunters do more for this flawed world in a week than most people do in their lifetimes. You do more than angels or Heaven or God himself even. You put your life on the line every single day to help people you’ve never met before, to keep them safe. You stand in between them and the monsters. You don’t get paid, you hardly get any thanks, you see some of the worst things that most humans will never see, and yet, you still continue to do it.”

“Isn’t that the job? Saving people, hunting things?” You teased.

She frowned down at you. “Don’t do that. Don’t make light of what I’m saying because you feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” you insisted. “I just…” You threw up a hand, shaking your head.

Her expression softened and she stroked your cheek. “You’re a good person, Y/N, and a good hunter. Don’t ever doubt yourself. You can’t save everyone though you try. By killing that monster, you saved many families. Don’t forget that.”

You pressed your lips together and dropped your gaze. You knew she meant well and she was right, you couldn’t save everyone, but it still was going to take you some time to get past this one. You weren’t the only one feeling that way, either. You weren’t entirely sure if all of the hunters in your group would be coming back, two individuals in particular. They’d been the ones to tend to the kids and hold them as they died while you and the others took down the Rugaru. You couldn’t blame them if they decided to hang it up after this.

Ana gripped your chin a little tighter, making your eyes dart up to her face, and you watched as she studied you, appearing to be contemplating something. Before you could ask what she was thinking, she slowly leaned down and pressed her lips to yours. This time, though, you didn’t feel any grace coursing through your skin. 

She pulled away after a few moments and you stared up at her in confusion. Giving you a tender smile, she trailed her finger along your jawline. “I like you, Y/N. You’re one of the better humans I’ve met since I’ve been down here.”

“You like me?” You asked in disbelief.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Um, yeah? I thought you couldn’t stand me most of the time.”

“Not most of the time, just sometimes. I certainly can stomach you more than any other human.”

“Wow. I feel special.” 

“You should.” She ran her finger down the bridge of your nose to the tip. “Do you think I go around giving my grace to just anyone?”

“Well, there was Lucifer.”

“That was different,” she snapped.

“You heal a lot of people, which I’m all for by the way.”

She leaned back in. “But they don’t get it directly from the source and they don’t get the perks I give you,” she finished right above your lips before kissing you again. This time, you could feel grace being infused into your skin and running rampant through your system. When she broke away from you, you opened your eyes to find that familiar bluish-white haze covering your vision. It was like seeing in 20/20 vision, only a hundred thousand times better.

Ana ran a finger along your lips and as always, you could feel the touch that much more, sending tingles through your body. Glancing up at her, you started thinking about other touches and how they would feel magnified like this. Then you remembered what some people usually did to feel alive again after seeing death and how fleeting life could be.

Within seconds, you were sitting up and you grabbed her and moved her to your lap, very aware that she had let you do it. You saw her smirking down at you as she framed your face with your hands.

“You know, you say you like me but I’m wondering just how much.”

“Oh really?”

“I think we should find out.” You yanked her closer against you and she shook her head, smirking even wider. You tugged the back of her hair, forcing her to arch her neck and she let out a tiny gasp. You knew it was more for theatrical effect than anything else. 

“Don’t forget, this is Mulberry silk,” she warned you. “You get blood on it, I’ll kill you, no matter if I like you.”

You used your free hand to place a finger to her lips. “You’re talking way too much. All I want to hear out of this mouth right now are the pretty sounds you make or you begging me for more.” Normally, unless you were in the bedroom you didn’t talk like this, but you could feel the grace fueling everything deep within you, even your ego.

“I won’t be begging.”

“You will,” you whispered into her ear before nibbling on the lobe. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

You grabbed the angel blade and created a tiny slice in her skin, seeing the grace peeking out at you from within. Ana placed her hands on your shoulders but she didn’t resist as you swiped your tongue over the wound. “I hate you,” she finished in a moan.

You huffed out a laugh when you felt her pull you closer, her fingers winding into your hair to hold you to her. “You have a weird way of showing that.” You dropped the angel blade on the floor and moved in for the kill. 

You had been right; not only did you get Ana to beg, you felt everything a hundred million times more than you normally would. And she had been right; not only did she like you, the shattered glass littering the room and the car horns blaring outside when you were finished proved just how much. 

You licked your lips nervously as you parked the pickup, your body having returned to its normal state less than an hour ago. “Listen,” you started. “That was a one time thing.”

Ana turned a smirk onto you, knowing full well how this little back and forth went between you afterwards. “No. It wasn’t.”

“Yeah, it was.”

She turned in her seat to fully face you, laying a hand on your shoulder. “It wasn’t the last few times it happened and it won’t be the next few times. Not to mention we have another motel we nearly destroyed.” She squeezed your shoulder. “I know you don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you like me, too.”

Your jaw tightened and you glared at her, but kept quiet. 

She leaned in and you didn’t stop her when she kissed you, no grace involved this time. “Now, you go enjoy your well-deserved break from hunting. Me? I’ve got some business to take care of.” She inclined her head towards the church you were dropping her off at, the sign welcoming Sister Jo, the faith healer. “I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

You watched as she got out of the truck and turned back to you, resting her hand on the open window ledge. Her smirk was cocky, knowing, but her eyes appeared a little softer when she trained them on you. “Until then, Y/N.” She shot you a wink and then walked away.

You watched as she made her way into the church. You thought over what she said. Yeah, you liked her, but you weren’t about to admit that to her. It didn’t matter if she admitted it to you first. She was still an angel, a fallen angel who lied when it suited her and money was the name of the game for her. At least on the outside. But the Ana you’d gotten to know over the last year, ever since you’d crossed her path in your quest for revenge against one of her fallen brothers who had murdered your hunting partner…she was different and she was who you liked. You just wished…well, that things could be different. That she wasn’t an angel and that you could have met some other way. But no matter what you wished, this was your reality and there was no changing it. Ana was an angel and you were having whatever this was with one. If your old hunting partner could see you now…

You shook that thought out of your head and started the pickup, driving away from the church, headed back to your place. You told yourself for the millionth time that the next time Ana called you, you wouldn’t pick up. But a part of you knew that you would, and this scenario would play out again, as it had many times before. You knew she was right and you hated her for that. The disappointment you felt at yourself knew no bounds. 

You switched on the radio, picking a familiar song and choosing to get lost in the music instead of your thoughts. Until then.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 7

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (it finally starts getting spicy in a couple more chapters!), Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6

Chapter 7 summary: Dara joins them on a mission. She performs a little too coolly under pressure.

“I don’t want her staying on the ship alone,” Crosshair insisted. The Batch was huddled together in the cockpit as they began their approach to the red planet which loomed largely through the Marauder’s viewport. Dara had returned to her makeshift room in the cargo hold just as they were exiting hyperspace, and the sniper meant to take advantage of her temporary absence to continue to voice his protestations against her involvement.

“We need someone to remain behind to provide a pick-up when we make our exit,” Tech insisted impatiently. “And our infiltration strategy requires five.”

“That won’t matter if she takes off with our ship and leaves us stranded,” Crosshair replied angrily. The others considered the dilemma; he had a point.

“Why didn’t you bring that up before we made this plan?!” Hunter protested.

“Why did you insist on bringing a complete stranger with us to break someone out of jail?!” the sniper shot back.

“Hey!” Echo, as always, stepped up to mediate. “Think this through first, fight about it later. Tech and I are needed to access the back entrance. Crosshair is setting up decoy fire at the landing pad and front entrance. Hunter and Wrecker are setting the charges to first draw their attention and later cover our escape. How about Hunter stays with the ship and Dara helps with the charges.”

Dara returned before the issue could be debated further. “Change of plans, boys?” she asked.

Hunter nodded. “Just a small one. How do you feel about helping Wrecker instead? You shouldn’t have to engage with anyone directly. Just a bit of sneaking around and property destruction to keep them occupied while we go after the real target. Not that we doubt your piloting skills, but the Marauder’s a complicated ship, and if things go sideways it might be a bit chaotic getting us out of there.”

“Oh, sure,” Dara agreed affably. “That and you don’t want to have to worry about someone you just met stealing your transport and leaving you for dead.” She chuckled at the squad’s vaguely embarrassed expressions, ignoring Crosshair’s sneer. “It’s okay, I get it. Trust is built, right? I’ll just go with Wrecker.”

“Yeah!” the giant clapped her on the back enthusiastically, nearly knocking her over. “This’ll be way more fun anyway!”

Tech set the Marauder down some distance away from the prison to avoid detection, and Hunter handed Dara a comm before they began the trek toward their destination. The Sergeant looked sternly at Crosshair as the sniper made to exit. “Watch their back,” he instructed.

Crosshair’s expression was disguised behind his helmet, but his voice had lost some of the hostility of their earlier discussion, and now sounded more amused. “Don’t I always?”

“That includes her,” Hunter called insistently after his retreating form.

***

After a short hike, the sniper, dug into position, watched through his scope as the others approached the prison, flanking it from the west. The team moved stealthily amid the gathering dark, pausing only momentarily for Tech to easily bypass the perimeter sensors. Inside the prison, no one would even notice a glitch on their screens as they drew nearer to the building, and the next foot patrol wasn’t due to pass by for another 20 minutes. In the meantime, the group separated, Echo and Tech heading to the back of the building, Dara to the landing pad, and Wrecker to the main entrance. He had no concerns about Wrecker; while he wasn’t the stealthiest among them, Tech had already overwritten any camera feeds with a loop, and his brother would be able to easily stun anyone he came across while planting the first set of explosives, which would draw all attention to the front of the building as Echo and Tech entered and retrieved their target.

Dara, however, was another story. Crosshair watched her closely, his keen eyesight still able to easily detect her shadowy form through his scope even in the failing light. He was not much happier at the decision to bring her along than to leave her with the Marauder, but at least here he could keep an eye on her.

But, of course, there was already a problem. The landing pad was supposed to be empty.

“Dara, you have company. Maintenance tech and a couple of droids just exited the building and are headed to the landing pad. Abort,” he instructed. It wouldn’t be ideal—the landing pad explosion was meant to cover their exit—but they would have to make do.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” Her voice over the comm was perfectly calm. He felt annoyance bubble up in him; the landing pad was well-lit, and they couldn’t afford to alert anyone to their presence before Wrecker set off the first set of charges.

“That’s an order. Turn the kriff around.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

Infuriated, Crosshair could only watch as she turned her comm off. He briefly shifted his scope to Wrecker, who had just reached the main entrance. The nearby guard station was empty, apart from the crumpled forms of the two aliens who had been staffing it—at least, up until the moment that Wrecker snuck up behind them and knocked them out. His brother began setting the charges.

“Status update?” he requested over the open comm channel.

“Approximately 1.5 minutes to get the back door open,” Tech reported.

“Front’s gonna go boom in one.”

Crosshair moved his scope back to the landing pad, where Dara was crouching by a cabinet out of sight of the maintenance tech. She opened it, pulling out a vest and hat that matched the worker’s uniform, then stored her larger blaster in the cabinet and pulled the clothing on before straightening up. He grinded his teeth together as she headed straight for the maintenance tech, a look of confusion on her face. After a brief, animated discussion, the tech headed back inside, followed by the droids. She strolled leisurely about the landing pad, placing her own charges at regular intervals.

Wrecker’s explosion at the main entrance rocked the building, and Crosshair returned his attention there. Alarms began blaring throughout the prison, and only minutes later, a wave of guards cautiously filed out of the front doors, guns drawn. It was time for him to make them think they were under attack by nothing short of an invading army. Calmly, he let out shot after shot, letting each of them narrowly miss. From the position he had retreated to, Wrecker did the same, occasionally lobbing stun bombs. The guards scrambled, looking for cover. By now, Tech and Echo were well on their way to the target’s cell.

“Landing pad charges set,” Dara’s voice reported over the open comm channel.

A few minutes later, Echo indicated that they were on their way out, and a second explosion drew the attention of the guards. Even more of them exited the building in the direction of the landing pad as Crosshair alternated his shots between there and the entrance. Now thoroughly distracted on two fronts, the others would be able to make their exit from the prison nearly unchallenged.  

“Coming in for a pickup at the rendezvous,” Hunter piped up. First Dara, then Echo, Tech, and the prisoner, and finally Wrecker all converged on Crosshair’s position. He kept the guards pinned down until Hunter landed the Marauder behind them and everyone was on board, then made his way up the ramp himself. They were leaving the atmosphere before the guards even realized it was all over.

“So…who’s this guy?” Wrecker asked. The Rodian they had picked up at the prison stared at them with wide, glassy eyes as they entered hyperspace. He didn’t seem to speak Basic.

Hunter shrugged. “Cid didn’t say. Just said he was scheduled to be transferred from the local authorities to the Empire and her client wanted us to get him out before that happened.”

Dara raised her eyebrow. “You guys just broke someone out of jail without even knowing why he was in there?”

“Yeah, well…Cid isn’t always the most forthcoming about what her jobs entail,” Echo responded, his resentment toward the Trandoshan palpable.

“Mmmhmm…” Turning to the fugitive, she spoke to him in Rodian. They exchanged a few sentences before she reported back in Basic to the squad, pursing her lips critically. “He’s a bounty hunter. Works for the Hutts. They apparently weren’t interested in letting him undergo interrogation.” Crosshair thought she looked like she had more to say, but she bit her tongue.  

“You speak Rodian?” inquired Tech, with polite interest. He himself spoke several languages, and had developed his own translation program to help communicate in those he did not.

“Among a few others. I was a linguist, in another life.” A pang of sadness flashed across her eyes before she could tamp it down. “Didn’t work out.”

“Well, hey,” Wrecker announced cheerfully, “you could be in for a long career with us! You did great today!”

Crosshair’s anger, briefly forgotten amid his focus on completing their mission, flared back up. “Actually, what she did was disobey a direct order and put the whole team at risk.”

“I had everything under control. It was just a maintenance tech, not a guard. All I had to do was tell him there must have been some sort of scheduling mix-up because I was already assigned to repairs at the landing pad, and by the time he was inside trying to sort everything out Wrecker’s explosion would have made him forget all about me.”

The sniper pointed angrily at her with his toothpick. “That wasn’t your call to make.”

Her eyes flashed, but her tone remained calm. “Well, it wasn’t yours either.”

“Enough.” Hunter’s serious tone shut them both up. “Dara, that was good thinking on your feet, but next time, listen to Crosshair. We have more experience at this than you. If he says to play it safe, it’s for a reason. We said we’d take your help on a few jobs, but you’re not a soldier. We don’t want to put you in harm’s way if we can avoid it.”

Dara looked chastened. “Of course.” But when Hunter turned her back on them, she glared at Crosshair before retiring to the cargo hold, leaving him there to stew.

Next chapter

Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom

[guiltiest-gear]

me and a friend were discussing how to min-max socialization as i left a friend group that i had been in for countless years and the lack of spaces outside of it that i had online (offline socialization isnt an option) made it hard for me to leave it before and we ended up discussing art as a method of friendship rizzing

but then it ended as a discussion of how mood affects art output and quality and being in a bad mood and requiring making art to make new friends to fill an emotional void within a time limit before the mood gets worse is a self-defeating cycle and i ended up going "hold up what if gooning was a solution"

"isnt gooning just jacking off"

and then i had to explain in detail what gooning actually meant before repeating the initial thesis of my theory:

if mood is a factor then one must destroy the concept of mood and become singlehandedly one with art itself to bypass it entirely which is something you can only do by either entering the zone like athletes do by locking the fuck in or by practicing the theory of gooning for the drawing process and destroying the conscious

and my friend was like "damn that might actually work" but i wasnt serious when i said it so now there is a non zero chance i gave someone else the idea of art-gooning when i was trying to make a complicated joke and im afraid theyll try it to research this for real and im sending this as an ask because i have nothing to do

Okay I gotta fucking say

This ask was wild through and through, where do I even begin with this, holy shit

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 48 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[DIVINER] has added [Seyka] to the group

HIMBO: HELLO NEW PERSON!

FlameHairSavior: Erend, if you drive her off, I'm locking you out of the Base.

HIMBO: I JUST SAID HELLO!

MARSHAL Kotallo: Hello, Seyka. It is a pleasure to have a chance to speak with you.

Seyka: Likewise, I guess.

Seyka: Sorry, that sounded rude. I just meant that texts are a little bit of a weird way to first meet people.

ADMIN [Zo]: Maybe, for once, we should do holograms.

[Icarus] has invited [FlameHairSavior] , [DIVINER] , [ HIMBO] , [MARSHAL Kotallo] , ADMIN [Zo ] , [β] , [GAIA] , and [Seyka] to a holo-chat

FlameHairSavior: Dammit, Zo, you just had to give him an opening.

DIVINER: I'm actually a little busy right now!

FlameHairSavior: Is anyone NOT busy right now?

HIMBO: I CAN SPARE TWO MINUTES TO WAVE HELLO.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Agreed. A face to face meeting, for lack of a better word, is worth the slight inconvenience.

β: im still asleep

FlameHairSavior: Let's just get it over with.

----

[β] has left the holo-chat

[Icarus] has ended the holo-chat

Seyka: Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. You just surprised me.

β: its fine

FlameHairSavior: Okay, now that we're done with that... Alva, how are things looking on your end?

DIVINER: All's good! We should have the two camps reconnected before you know it!

FlameHairSavior: Great.

HIMBO: SO, WAIT, YOU FINISHED EVERYTHING WITH LONDRA, RIGHT? LAST WE HEARD, YOU WERE JUST ABOUT TO GO CHARGING OFF AFTER HIM!

Icarus: She returned just a few minutes before Seyka was added to the chat. I've only heard the very end of the adventure, and I'll admit I'm interested in learning the rest.

MARSHAL Kotallo: I assume you managed to kill Londra.

FlameHairSavior: Yeah. He went down hard, though.

MARSHAL Kotallo: How did you bypass his shields?

FlameHairSavior: He was piloting the Horus, so when I killed it, the feedback killed him too.

HIMBO: WHAT.

ADMIN [Zo]: Wait, the Horus? The Metal Devil? He managed to get it working?

FlameHairSavior: Only partly.

Seyka: It was ripping apart mountains and birthing dozens of machines. If that's partly working, I shudder to imagine one at full strength.

HIMBO: WE TOLD YOU TO TELL US IF A HORUS WENT ACTIVE! I REMEMBER THAT SPECIFICALLY!

ADMIN [Zo]: This alone could be a regional catastrophe. We needed to know.

DIVINER: Right, is everything okay?? Do we need to evacuate??

HIMBO: I CAN HAVE AVAD SEND DOWN THE ARMY, FOR ALL THE GOOD IT WILL DO.

MARSHAL Kotallo: The Tenakth will hold the line as long as we are able.

FlameHairSavior: No, I just said, it's dead. It didn't have a chance to make any more of itself or anything really bad.

HIMBO: YOU STILL SHOULD HAVE TOLD US.

FlameHairSavior: By the time I had a chance, it was already dead.

HIMBO: SO NOW YOU WON'T TEXT WHEN YOU'RE FIGHTING.

Seyka: Why would you text while you're fighting? That sounds dangerous.

FlameHairSavior: It's usually fine.

Seyka: Usually!?

β: what happened with the horus you have to tell us

β: i dont care how long it was buried you cant just blow up a full titan class with some junk arrows

FlameHairSavior: Well, Seyka and the admiral were getting all the survivors organized when Londra brought the Horus online. Dirt, trees falling off it, the whole thing.

Seyka: It destroyed that big sign, too.

FlameHairSavior: Oh, yeah.

DIVINER: Wait... you don't mean the Hollywood sign, do you??

DIVINER: That's a historical landmark!

FlameHairSavior: I think you might be putting too much importance on this.

FlameHairSavior: It was a sign.

β: how was it even still around i would have been surprised if it lasted a hundred years much less a thousand

FlameHairSavior: I found a datapoint about how they treated it with some anti-aging or anti-rust or something.

DIVINER: See!! The Ancestors thought it was important too!

FlameHairSavior: I guess.

FlameHairSavior: Anyway, Londra had to pilot the Horus personally. The AI was too degraded.

Icarus: Are you certain? My experience with the Corruptors and Deathbringers leads me to believe that the AI core was quite robust.

FlameHairSavior: Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention to how he was doing it, because a METAL DEVIL was BREAKING OUT OF A MOUNTAIN right next to me.

Icarus: ...fair.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Perhaps Londra chose to pilot it personally because he knew better than to let it rampage.

ADMIN [Zo]: At least when he was nearby.

FlameHairSavior: I don't know. But it was definitely degraded. It couldn't handle its heat generation. I blew up every heat sink I could, and he tried to take it out into the ocean to cool down.

Icarus: Hm. A crude solution, but it could be effective.

FlameHairSavior: He was printing out more Corruptors, shooting missiles at me, trying to stab me with tentacles the size of a Slitherfang. About what you'd expect.

Seyka: "About what you would expect." I was flying above the whole time, and let me tell you, watching her fight a machine the size of a MOUNTAIN was incredible and terrifying at the same time.

Seyka: Do you people do this sort of thing all the time?

HIMBO: IT'S PRETTY MUCH JUST ALOY.

ADMIN [Zo]: And even then, a Horus is certainly a new threat.

Seyka: Well, I tried to distract it while Aloy shot out the heat sinks. It let out big energy blasts every time she destroyed one.

Icarus: Fascinating. Do you think that was a deliberate attack, or some side effect of the heat sink breaking?

Seyka: No idea.

FlameHairSavior: I think it was deliberate.

Seyka: This was all while the Metal Devil was running into the ocean, remember. I guess Londra didn't see her as a threat at first.

Seyka: Once he got to the shallows, he turned around and faced her head-on. That was the fight on the beach.

Seyka: When I saw that first tentacle come down, I was sure she was dead.

FlameHairSavior: But I wasn't and I'm fine.

HIMBO: NORMAL PEOPLE GET WORRIED WHEN THEIR FRIENDS FIGHT MACHINE DEMIGODS.

DIVINER: Is that the terminology we're going with?

HIMBO: I DUNNO.

FlameHairSavior: Well, even with the Horus half in the ocean, it was still overheating. I blew up more heatsinks, eventually made a hole in the hull big enough to get through.

FlameHairSavior: Seyka picked me up, got me to the breach, I got inside.

Icarus: There is no possible way that a HORUS is designed to be human-traversible. Even Londra's pilot override must have required major rewiring.

FlameHairSavior: It was a trial.

FlameHairSavior: But I got through, found Londra. There was a shield, but I blew up the power cables, the overload killed him.

FlameHairSavior: The end.

Seyka: You are terrible at telling stories.

FlameHairSavior: What? Am I supposed to go through a blow by blow of how I cut one power cable, then there was a wave of energy, then I destroyed the processors, repeat?

Seyka: I suppose.

FlameHairSavior: Although Londra did give a bad guy speech. I think every Zenith I spoke to had a speech like this. Did they have classes in the old world?

DIVINER: Every show I've ever watched had a bad guy speech! Okay, not EVERY show. But the point is, they had plenty of examples!

FlameHairSavior: Well, MY point is that it all sort of happened pretty fast. Not a lot to talk about.

β: im watching the video right now you skipped over all the times you were like two seconds from dying

Seyka: Wait, you can see what she saw?

β: the focuses record everything

Seyka: Should I be worried?

β: the old world was a horrifying panopticon of privacy violations

β: and it used to be worse before the claw back

GAIA: We can discuss privacy settings, if you like.

Seyka: Uh, maybe later.

FlameHairSavior: I did scan Londra's brain implant, which might be useful.

Icarus: Yes, when he first left Sirius, he began making a plan to defeat NEMESIS. He soon dismissed this as naive and unfeasible, but he did make a list of various weapons companies that might have useful technology to fight.

MARSHAL Kotallo: A goal for the future, then.

Icarus: Precisely.

FlameHairSavior: I looked over the map, and some of these are pretty far. I think we'll need more than just sunwings to get to them in time.

HIMBO: WAIT.

HIMBO: YOU GAVE SEYKA CONTROL OF A SUNWING.

FlameHairSavior: Waterwing.

HIMBO: WHATEVER.

HIMBO: WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE GIVEN US SUNWINGS?

FlameHairSavior: There's no way any of you could have gotten to the Burning Shores fast enough to help me with the Horus.

HIMBO: NOT THAT! I MEAN WHEN WE LEFT THE BASE TO MEET UP WITH OUR ALLIES!

FlameHairSavior: ...oh.

β: oops

Seyka: So. This is the group that's going to save the world?

ADMIN [Zo]: I realize we seem... idiosyncratic, but there is a method to the madness.

MARSHAL Kotallo: We already did save the world once, after all.

HIMBO: ALOY IS ON NUMBER FOUR!

Seyka: FOUR!?

FlameHairSavior: Wait, four? I only count two.

HIMBO: HADES AT MERIDIAN, HEPHAESTUS AT THE CUT, THE ZENITH, AND THEN LONDRA.

FlameHairSavior: HEPHAESTUS didn't count, that was hardly a world-ending disaster. Same with Londra. The world wouldn't have ended if he had won.

HIMBO: IF YOU SAY SO.

Seyka: I am so confused.

β: welcome to the club we have tshirts

Seyka: Okay?

MARSHAL Kotallo: More to the point, there is an orientation packet. I suspect you will find it quite illuminating.

MARSHAL Kotallo: [HZDorientation_packet.pdf]

MARSHAL Kotallo: This is the version without videos, to keep it light enough to transfer.

Seyka: Thank you.

[β] has changed [Seyka] 's name to [Aloy's_BAE]

DIVINER: !!

Aloy's_BAE: Uh... thanks?

FlameHairSavior: What's a BAE and how insulted should she be?

β: old world term for a significant other

DIVINER: [Squee.gif]

FlameHairSavior: Significant other... what?

β: ladylove

β: sweetheart

β: honeybun

β: your girlfriend

Icarus: More childish teasing?

Aloy's_BAE: How did you know that? Did Aloy tell you?

MARSHAL Kotallo: Wait, what?

ADMIN [Zo]: It's real?

FlameHairSavior: BETA. How did you find out.

β: i watched your adventure to the end

FlameHairSavior: ...shit.

HIMBO: HA!

ADMIN [Zo]: From personal experience, I should tell you to take your focus off during intimate moments.

FlameHairSavior: [WorldsLongestGroan.gif]

Aloy's_BAE: Well, I don't think that will be an issue, because I'm going to go drown myself in the ocean now.

FlameHairSavior: Please don't. I prefer you un-drowned.

HIMBO: AW, SHE'S TURNING YOU INTO A SAPPY ROMANTIC!

Aloy's_BAE: You people are so strange.

β: too late you should have run when you had the chance

β: also everyone i know youre too far away to pay me now but dont think ill forget

FlameHairSavior: Pay you?

ADMIN [Zo]: She won the bet.

FlameHairSavior: What bet?

β: on when youd finally get someone

FlameHairSavior: ...

FlameHairSavior: Sylens, is it too late for us to leave the planet?

Icarus: Yes.

Icarus: That ship is too small for all your drama.

FlameHairSavior: I don't know, it's apparently big enough to carry your ego.

Aloy's_BAE: I really don't know what to make of this.

ADMIN [Zo]: You get used to it.

MARSHAL Kotallo: We promise.

Chapter 48 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[windywriter]

I mean, MC being Lilith's descendent was to set up their ability to bypass certain wards and such as well as allow them to communicate with her, as far as I'm aware it's the reason they're immune to Asmo's charm as well. MC wouldn't have the ring either if they weren't born with the power of angels.

The game never solved anything by "we have our sister back technically", the entire first season is MC helping the brothers with their problems, including the fact that letting go of the constant grief isn't letting go of Lilith and getting that understanding that moving on isn't bad, you still have her in your heart.

If you're talking about the fandom idea that the brothers only think of MC as Lilith then I'll let you know that was an angst au type thing. If one of the canon brothers treated MC as Lilith or her replacement then I'm almost certain that the others would beat some sense into him and make him apologize.

The brothers love *MC*, not Lilith's descendent. Belphie could be argued but the reveal was more about Lilith getting the life she always wanted in the end (living proof standing in front of him) and that hating *all* humans would be hating her too. And the reason he knows this now, the reason he's back with his brothers, the reason everything's going to be okay is MC. Maybe Lilith's descendent played some part in him wanting to get closer to them at first but I really don't think that'd last, his brothers and even MC would catch on quick and shut that down (saw a fic about that a while ago). After all, he also knew MC before any reveal, they were only "friends" but that meant he did know MC before "Lilith's Descendent".

MC being Lilith's (reincarnation's) descendant just solved certain plot holes with things like their abilities and why Lilith could talk to them but not her brothers.

Sorry if this is messy I'm not great at communicating my points or ideas. I've also got a really bad headache which isn't making it easier--

I actually used to think the same as you in some ways but I've been obsessed with this game for over a year and between rereading the story and reading fandom analysis, I've come to firmly believe that it wouldn't matter if MC wasn't Lilith's descendent, it was just an easy explanation for the plot holes and a typical otome wrap up for what was (iirc) supposed to be a 20 Lesson game.

(Not part of my take but I think the idea of Lilith being so done with the boys' shit and unable to knock some sense into them that she uses "power of fate" to knock around the papers so the boys get to deal with her most chaotic fucking rizzmaster descendent is absolutely hilarious and the entire plot point is worth it just for that)

Hi Anon, Yeah, the whole thing of Lilith being the reason MC can bypass certain stuff could easily be changed with the fact that the divine fruit Lilith gave her lover allowing them immunity against shit, plus my newest post about Lilith as a concept of love protecting MC (check it out here!) I think i mentioned it? idk, but if i didnt here it is.

As for the "technically we have out sister back" because its so ambiguous with the relationships lilith had with the other brothers, its hard to tell, except lucifer who i think mentions holding MC's hand reminds me of when he would hold lilith's hand which is a weird thing to say on a date. As for Belphie's situation, yes it does make sense that if Belphie were to hate MC who is a descendant of lilith he'd be hating her as well, but I think it would be much more interesting if we got him to forgive humanity or at least make steps towards it by confronting the one who he blames for it. And by seeing that they still have lilith's blessing it would mean that Lilith still loves them, and by hurting MC belphie is basically spitting in the face of his beloved sister's wishes.

Also overall, I made this version purely because Lilith being the brother's Sister, and MC being her descendant has some really messed up implications (going back to the lucifer part i pointed out) and technically they arent related by blood but if you have to put "technically" in front of something like that its still pretty strange. But im glad to hear your input! I hope you feel better!

[ijustreallylikecaptainamericaok]

How about 4, 5 (Scott), 9, and 16 for the fandom ask game?

Hey! :-)

4. Is there a popular pairing you don't necessarily dislike but aren't too invested in?

Out of the most popular Steve pairings, I'd say ShieldShock. It's not a bad ship by any means. I totally get why people are into it. It just doesn't grab me like that, y'know? Though, oddly enough, I am really into the idea of Steve/Darcy/Wanda. Don't know what that's about, lol.

With MCU in general? Clintasha. Granted, part of this probably comes from being exposed to the MCU first, because nothing about their interactions in The Avengers screamed romance to me and everything after that just solidified that notion. I never understood why folks were so adamant about it being portrayed in the MCU over Bruce/Nat and Clint/Laura until I found out it's a comic thing. Again, not a bad ship, but neither canon version I've seen (MCU and EMH) have done much for me. Though, again, Clint/Laura/Natasha? Totally into.

5. Out of all your fanworks that include [Scott], which is your favourite?

Oh, man, this question has taken me the longest, because I had to go through and reread some stuff. Also, I make so many different things that narrowing it down is a bit tough. Plus, I overthink way too much. Okay. For moodboards, I'd say this Steve/Scott/Hope/Maria one, because it's so pretty to me that I forget I made it, lol. I figure anything that's able to bypass my knee-jerk reaction to be overly critical of my work must have something good going for it. For other graphics, this Scott/Jessica set, which is quite simple, but I really like it.

As for fic, I think overall some of my favorite individual lines and jokes have been written for Scott, such as: "At least I don’t want to fuck a fox, Clint." Though I think my favorite exchange I've written has to be between Scott and Steve in Make Up For Lost Time:

“You’re twice my age!” the brunet sputtered. “More than!”

“Only chronologically,” Steve said, unable to control his shit-eating grin.

“I’ll remember that next time you ask for the senior discount at the movies.” With that, he moved as if to get off of Steve’s lap, but the blond only clutched his hips and plopped him back down with a smile.

“You wouldn’t rat me out, would ya?”

“Course not,” he scoffed. “That shit’s expensive, even with your discount.”

For a full story, I'd say it's a toss-up between The Season of Poultry and Everything Will Turn Out Alright. It's tough to pick a full fic for Scott, since I so often write him from someone else's (usually Steve's) point of view. That, coupled with how my work tends to be pretty short, I think makes it a little hard to maybe get a full picture of Scott. But with those stories, I think (or I'd like to think) they pack a lot in a small space in terms of his characterization and dynamics with others. Plus, I just have a lot of affection for those particular stories.

9. Write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed!

Do Vibranium Androids Dream of Electric Wandas? by DeconstructedFallenStars on AO3. The summary reads, "He had meant for her to be his Eve." It's a short one-sided Wanda/Ultron fic that takes place toward the end of AOU and is something of a character study of Ultron. I'm probably underselling it, but the execution is very good.

16. Do people irl know you participate in fandom?

Friends do, yes, but not relatives. I don't think they'd really "get" it or approve, if you take my meaning.

Thanks for sending these in! Sorry it took a couple days for me to finish. For whatever reason, my brain really needed the answer to that second question to be thorough. lol.

From Fandom Ask Game

[uraharashouten]

No offense meant but I really think youre wrong about AI

AI in the context of art and writing HAS to take sources from other people. Online AI generators cant operate without stealing from other creators, and is being used to minimize the work actual artists and writers do. All tech is AN AI but a computer or website isnt going to steal your work, assimilate it and spit it back out for someone else without your knowledge, consent or input. AI in general has ethical issues when implemented into society. And honestly not all progress is good progress. The current AI tech is bad regardless of hows its used and is very different than just being a computer program, its only purpose is to mix up artistic input and spit it out for others benefit

The fact is, even if artists get a say, its tech that fundamentally tries to bypass the hard work and ACTUAL technical aspects of art to mimic it. Maybe it can move forward in the future but its not a good idea to say that the way its being used is the only problem. New tech isn’t automatically bad or good, how people use it does matter. Comparing the real world use of this tech to steal from artists to fictional characters who happen to be artificial creations isn’t ok. You can choose not to have negative consequences in a fictional world, but not in reality. And just because something works out okay in a story doesn't mean its a good idea. Artificial life is itself an entire ethical debate thats gone on for decades and cant be boiled down to good or bad.

It's always nice to know people are reading this blog. Thanks for your thoughtful input.

I was being a bit tongue-in-cheek with the reference to fictional characters, but how AI is applied to real-world creative enterprises is indeed a significant issue. One major problem has been around the data sets used to train various AI models, and those being used to generate 'art' are only one facet of the problem. Take, just for one example, AI used to sift resumes—if the training data favors a particular demographic bias, guess which ones get filtered out a priori? Ethical questions around use and application of AI abound. Use of artificial intelligence is a complex and nuanced issue.

The damage has been done with the most popular tools, such as ChatGPT and DALL-E, but it would be possible for artists and writers to consent to using their works to train AI tools, in which case, there'd be no stealing. (I personally would be intrigued to see what would happen if this blog were used to train an AI, so I'd consent to that.) But if we begin to rely broadly on the AI to generate art, where does that leave artists? Where does that leave innovation and originality? If everything is a mélange and regurgitated hodgepodge that looks good enough, where does that leave our expectations? Our aspirations? That doesn't sound like human flourishing to me.

Now, before we get all high and mighty about how original we are, let me point out that humans have always loved to copy one another. In a sense, all art is derivative; that's why we have archetypes and tropes. We influence one another, but we'll only ever be similar, not identical, and that's part of the beauty of creativity. I can write someone else's characters (thank you Kubo Tite) but I will never exactly replicate perfectly the way the creator did it. And that's a beautiful thing. Likewise, an artifical intelligence won't duplicate an original; it'll just take inspiration from it, in the same way a human would. But it might do that faster and cheaper, if not better. And that's part of the problem. But... we will need to grapple with all this as a society, because it's not going away.

Finally: the real reason for that post? If you've read this far, you deserve to know. I understand that the PSA that's been going around is an attempt to establish a new cultural norm for how artificially-generated content is regarded... by using fear of being replaced by AI to justify ostracizing anyone who uses any form of it, as determined subjectively. And frankly, anything that uses fear, uncertainty and doubt to create in-groups and out-groups in the RPC—or frankly, anywhere else— just rubs me the wrong way.

[fightwing]

@inhxuman / cont.

dick's NEVER denied the 'drama' accusations. okay, maybe in his youth he'd push back a bit on anything that wasn't synonymous with 'showmanship', but the titans and general life experiences were quick to put him back in his place. maybe he could be a bit dramatic, and hey maybe it wasn't always warranted. ---- but in this, he'd really and truly thought he'd taken his last bow. even before, even with how many times he's dropped the fated 'never coming back' only to enter the foyer again within the month, even with all the fights with bruce that he swore he'd never forgive him for and then hugged about months later, even with the knowledge he'd never truly leave, not really, he'd thought this was the one. spyral wasn't something you left. if there's anything he learned aside from tiger doesn't like puns it's that spyral was blood in, blood out, and even dick's flimsy plans wouldn't change that. he knew joining spyral meant he'd either die a spy, twice-dead to those who knew him, or he'd never be free. doomed to see the world through warped tech. it was a miracle in and of itself that they'd somehow won. that dick grayson's name was scrubbed from the nightwing legacy AND he was free from the undercover chains. a miracle, maybe, but no bad deed though . . . now, though, it had been some time. enough most people forgot about it. donna and he were calling every friday like they used to, wally was dropping by like he paid even a cent on rent. he'd been back in bludhaven for some months, patrolling and living as normal and most importantly giving space to the people who needed it. like tim, jason, babs . . . he gets their reactions. he gets it more than most, maybe, and if the roles had been reversed he's not sure what position he would've played. but he'd stayed away from gotham until he was sure his presence wouldn't ruin what was already crumbling. now, though, it was time to put that theory to the test. that the foundations were strong enough to not be buried under. it made him nervous in a way he hadn't been since he was robin. the urge to thrum his fingers against his thighs or find some physical exertion outlet stopped only by the presence of his sister there with him. CASS. thank god she was here too. her calm, comforting presence was a tether he was desperately clutching. it's her words, now, that jolt him from the reverie he'd lulled into. and he barely stopped the laugh before it started, WANT was a bit of a hefty request but --- " hey! " he laughs, knocking his shoulder into hers with a smile. " i'll have you know my knees are the youngest thing about me." probably more fuel to the 'you're old' fire, and not entirely true but it's there and he's sticking to it. he ends with his arms crossed against his chest. yeah, it was weird to be back. but maybe it didn't have to be bad. one, two, three seconds to consider his next words. maybe if he used the gargoyle to get him airborne he could use the planter to entirely bypass the long way. oh yeah, game ON. " race you to the door? "