#I was going to do a group piece with all 8 but ran out of time so instead you get this lol

[theroseyhues]

Shut up and take a princess Chay dancing with the hummingbirds from the sketch vault. OvO

(happy birthday og eggos miss you)

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 31) - final chapter

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the opportunity to help the females in the Night Court is now here, and the last chapter of the reader's plan concludes

warnings: none

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is the final chapter of IALTPWF (there will be an epilogue for SURE, maybe a bonus chapter or two in the future) and i'm so emotional. i've poured my heart and soul into this story for two years and it's finally over. thank you to everyone who has shown this story support, I hope that in this chapter and the epilogue to come, you are satisfied with the ending. long mushy post to come later

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

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Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey. 

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless. 

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted. 

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?” 

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

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

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight, 

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion. 

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks. 

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder. 

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.”

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades. 

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

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

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers. 

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily. 

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern. 

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could. 

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…” 

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out. 

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply. 

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power. 

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

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

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds. 

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion. 

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

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean.  When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris. 

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish. 

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground. 

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand. 

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance. 

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table. 

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion. 

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son. 

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it. 

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful  @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-99 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford  @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @red-bees @daughterofthemoons-stuff @bloodicka @blackgirlmagicforever @writeroutoftime @paleidiot @

[magicalbuttertarts]

AEW Masterlist

Check Yes or No

Hook x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: none. Just some major fluff

Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.

From my previous account plentyoffandoms.

WC: 482

©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

WC: 1055

I am so nervous.

Why am I nervous?

I mean, we have been together for such a long time, and I knew I loved her before we even got together.

I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, making me jump a little, but I could tell by the chuckle, it was my Dad.

"You seem nervous, Tyler." He teased.

"What if she decides she doesn't want to be with me. That this has all been a huge mistake, and." I started to spew out the thoughts I have been having since I woke up this morning.

"Tyler, that girl loves you, and you love her. You have ever since the third grade."

The first memory I ever had of her came rushing back to me.

It was the first day of school, and they just combined the two elementary. I was running around on the playground with my friends, and I heard this laugh.

I turned my head, and it was like staring at an angel. I actually ran into the goalpost. I was knocked out for a few moments, and I woke up to her staring down at me, with a worried look on her face.

I fell in love, and I didn't even know it at the time.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I pulled it out of the inside pocket of my jacket.

I saw that it was from her. "I love you, baby." Short and simple, and filled with so much emotion behind it.

This brought me back to when I first asked her out.

It was the first dance of grade 8, and for the first time, my friends and I were not going as a group, but asking people to do the dance.

Every single time I tried to ask her out, I would get tongue tied and turn around, walking so fast that she would be calling my name.

It was the day before the dance, and we were in history class.

I spent that class trying to come up with to ask her, but I knew I would just chicken out.

So I grabbed a spare piece of paper and wrote, 'Will you go to the dance with me? - Tyler.' With two boxes, one for yes, and one for no.

I folded it up and tossed it onto her desk. I held my breath as she opened it. She looked over her shoulder at me and then back at the note.

She grabbed her pen and did a checkmark, and folded it back up. She waited for our teacher to turn around, and she handed me the note.

I opened the note and couldn't stop the smile from my face as she checked yes.

That was the first of many dances for us.

We went through high school together. She was there for all my lacrosse and wrestling events, and I was there for her.

We voted the couple to most likely be married. We were voted Prom King and Queen.

We didn't go to the same college, but we talked every day and saw each other whenever we could.

Then, when I decided to become a wrestler, she was there, supporting me no matter what.

When I was having doubts about following my dream, and I was about to have my first wrestling match on TV, I was pacing back and forth in my hotel room.

I kept questioning all of this when she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me, and I instantly calmed.

"You, Tyler Senerchia, are going to be wonderful. Everyone loves Hook and has been waiting for this moment."

I started to doubt myself once more. I turned around to face her. "No buts, Tyler. Everyone will be cheering for you and only you." I kissed her, putting all my heart into it.

And, of course, she was right. She always has been. She was and is still my number fan, and I am hers.

To travel with me, she started to write. She has a very popular travel blog, but with our wrestling friends and their favourite spots to shop and eat.

During one of those times, she was out for her research with Skye in Chicago, I picked up the antique engagement ring from my grandmother.

I was waiting for the right moment, but just like the 8th grade dance all over again, so I did what I did then.

I wrote her a note.

'Will you marry me?' and two boxes labelled yes or no.

Nothing over the top, and I knew this would be perfect for us.

I left the engagement ring box on the bed, and the note on top of it. I heard her call my name, as she walked into our room, me hiding in the bathroom.

She called my name, but she trailed off as she grabbed the note. I heard her gasp as she read it.

By this point, I was behind her on my knee, holding a bouquet of her favourite flowers.

I cleared my throat, and she turned around with the box and the note in her hands.

"Tyler,"

"Babygirl, I just need to know."

"Yes, a thousand times, yes."

I grabbed the box from her hand and opened it as quickly as possible to put the ring on her finger.

She cupped my face as I started to stand and kissed me.

We broke apart as we hugged on another.

"You didn't check a box."

"Tyler!" She said as she slapped my chest playfully.

I shook my head to clear it from all the memories I am having, and I looked at my friends and family as the music started.

Everyone stood and turned to look at my beautiful bride, stunned at how gorgeous she looked. This is my first time seeing her in her dress, and it all became too much.

I could feel tears start fall.

She gave me a concerned look, but I just mouthed I am okay.

She smiled at me and blew me a kiss.

"Her mother and I do."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Tyler."

"Now that we have that out of the way, let's get you two married."

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Five: Super Duper Mart

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: At the Super Duper Mart, The Ghoul goes on a chem bender after the vault dweller gives him anti-feral meds. You begin to piece together his true identity which leads to a briefly romantic moment between the two of you. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.6k

As you approach the Super Duper Mart, you see the ghoul and vault dweller standing outside. His words are indiscernible, but the vault dweller eventually limps through the front doors. Shortly after, he collapses to the ground. He must’ve ran out of vials, you think.

Casually, you approach the collapsed ghoul, squatting down to meet his gaze with a friendly smile. "Hey there," you greet him. His eyes meet yours, and he emits a faint, incomprehensible noise. There are no signs of him turning feral but it's clear he's not in great shape either.

"Seems like you're having a rough time," you frown. "I'd lend a hand but a big ass gulper swallowed me whole - along with the vials I had. It would've been nice if you had helped me. There might have been a slim chance that sweet anti-feral juice would've been okay." You tilt your head and fix him with a stern gaze.

"You..." he strains to speak, "still blabberin’?"

"Of course. I’m not just gonna leave you here to rot," you declare, raising his chin to meet your gaze. The vulnerability reflected in his eyes, combined with the rough texture of his skin, sends a ripple of goosebumps across your body. Despite his harsh exterior, there's an unexpected allure in his eyes that kindles a warm feeling within you. As you gently trace your thumb across his lower lip, a blush begins to creep upon your cheeks. This growing feeling makes you withdraw your hand abruptly, causing his head to slump back onto the ground. "But I’m not gonna help you either. Consider it payback for leaving me to be someone’s dinner. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before running off without me."

With a final smirk, you rise to your feet and give the ghoul one last look before heading towards the nearby wall of the mart. You take a seat on the ground, curious about how the vault dweller will fare inside there. Rumor has it this particular mart is notorious for trading people for chems - organ harvesting business.

Hours ticked by in eerie silence, leaving you to wonder if the vault dweller’s organs have been collected yet. As you glance over at the motionless ghoul on the ground, you can’t help but approach and kneel down for a closer look. Surprisingly, he is still breathing, although utterly useless.

"Tell me your name and I’ll go in to check the status of your trade," you propose.

"Fuck you," he croaks.

"Fine then. I suppose we'll be known in the wasteland as… Smoothie and The Ghoul.” You outstretch your hands as if you were revealing a movie title. “Get it? Like a bizarre twist on that book Beauty and the Beast. But I ain’t the wasteland beauty and you, my friend, are more of a… dehydrated, hairless beast - being a ghoul and all."

“The hell do you know about Beau-“

Just then, a small group of ghouls emerge from the building, causing both of you to shift your focus towards them. Among the chaos, one of them proclaim that a woman rescued them, followed by the ominous sound of gunfire. Looks like that little vault dweller has some guts after all.

Stepping out of the mart, the weary vault dweller emerges, now adorned in armor she didn't have before, with a weapon gripped firmly in her hand. Her gaze falls upon you, a faint look of surprise on her blood covered face, considering the last time she saw you, you were being devoured by a gulper.

"Hey, little vault dweller," you wave. "Good job in there."

"The name's Lucy," she responds. “You made it out of that creature?”

“Eh, ain’t a normal day in the wasteland if you don’t get gulped up by some sort of monster.”

“Props to you, ma’am. I was certain he’d help you but he decided these drugs are more important.” Lucy breathlessly replies, turning her attention to the ghoul still lying on the ground. With a couple of vials in her hand, she places them in front of him. “You don’t get these, you turn into one of those? That how it works? I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you. Golden Rule, motherfucker.”

“Golden Rule, eh? What the hell did you do to her?” You inquire The Ghoul as Lucy sets off on her own into the wasteland. Presumably to find the head you knew those Brotherhood idiots have.

The Ghoul's gaze hardens as he reaches for the vials in front of him, a sinister glint in his eyes. “She’s too soft… and I taught her a lesson,” he responds with a low voice.

“Seems like she might have taught you a lesson,” you retort, a sharp edge to your words as you observe him downing one of the vials.

He groans in satisfaction as the chem hits his system, prompting him to stand up and walk into the mart. You follow closely behind, collecting any valuable provisions and hastily stuffing them into your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him having a field day with a massive pile of vials on a table, filling his cowboy hat full of them. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without his hat and you're struck by the sight of his bald head. Not everyone can carry off the hairless look with ease, but he manages to pull it off effortlessly and there’s a rugged charm to his appearance.

Without hesitation, he starts consuming every chem and liquor bottle in sight, a reckless abandon in his actions. The breaking of glass and the sharp smell of alcohol fill the air as you slowly make your way towards his self-destructive behavior. The Ghoul seems to stumble upon an old holotape in front of a working television set and begins playing it as he settles down on a dilapidated pair of seats nearby. You take a seat beside him, pop a couple of mentats found on the table in front of you, and grab the bottle of liquor from him, chugging it down in one go.

An old western film begins to play, featuring an actor named Cooper Howard. You can't help but notice that the severely worn shirt under The Ghoul’s duster closely resembles what the actor is wearing in the film. Subtly, you shift your gaze back and forth between the man on screen and the one next to you. Could it be him?

As you study The Ghoul’s features, you notice a remarkable similarity in his bone structure to that of the actor. The contours of his face, the shape of his jawline, and even the way his cheekbones are structured all seem to echo those of the Cooper Howard. Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there is a subtle glint that mirrors the spark found in the eyes of this actor in the old western films.

Realization dawns on you that this ghoul is none other than Cooper Howard. After over 200 years in the wasteland presumably as a ghoul, it's no surprise he's become the pessimistic asshole he is now. No wonder he refuses to tell you his name or anything about himself. "That man is quite handsome,” the words slip from your lips, revealing a hint of admiration and perhaps even a touch of flirtation.

The Ghoul chuckles, unaware that you have connected the dots and learned his true identity. His laughter fades as he turns his head towards you, the distance between you suddenly shrinking. His eyes lock onto yours, then flicker down to your lips. A sense of anticipation fills the air as you feel the warmth of his breath on your face, tainted with the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

A moment of tense silence hangs between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the flickering overhead lights. Unsure of what to do or say, you hesitate, opening your mouth to speak but closing it without a word. In the dimly lit surroundings of the rundown mart, he leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.

In an instant, the effects of all the chems and alcohol he consumed hit him like a ton of bricks. His movements slow to a crawl, his eyelids droop heavily, and before you can even process what's happening, he slumps over, unconscious. You sit there in disbelief, watching as The Ghoul soundly sleeps before you, wondering what could have happened if he hadn't passed out.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snores escaping his lips, all evoke a sense of warmth and familiarity. A wave of nostalgia washes over you, reminding you of the love you once shared with a ghoul in the past. You recall the tender moments, the deep connection, and the unspoken understanding that bounded you together. Despite the challenges and prejudices you faced, your love blossomed into something truly special. You can't help but feel a hint of longing for that lost love.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, you seek distraction by glancing down at his hand resting near your thigh and you notice that one of his fingers is missing. What the fuck happened while I was gone? Turning your attention to the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table, you take a final swig, the burning liquid warming your insides. Feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you, you lean in and rest your head on his shoulder. The scent of his unique musk mingles with the lingering aroma of whiskey. Eyes drifting shut, you welcome the embrace of sleep, letting the darkness envelop you alongside The Ghoul.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28

[serxinns]

Sweet tweats! Chap 1/ introduction

Yandere Bnha ships x undercover pro hero reader introduction

This is gonna be like a mini headcanon or fic series

The fic that inspired me is here please go support their other fics as well!

Summary: you're an undercover pro-hero who decided to disguise yourself in your grandma's famous bakery to help around the town you and your undercover agent friends assist into working in the cafe as well meanwhile your classmates have been worried about you ever since you had no contact with them when you graduated, after 4 years they finally found you and they'll never let you go~

• The alarm clock interrupted your sweet slumber you groaned your hair was in your face and drool soaked in your pillow you lifted your head enough to see what time it was "FUCK ITS 8:30" You ran all over the place your cat you named Xin watching you curiously with her head tilt to the side watching you running all over the place getting yourself dress brushing your teeth and everything once you get ready you grabbed xin put her in your basket and rode your bike to the bakery

• Once you finally got there you were greeted with your grandma hands on her hips glaring at you "hii.. gran-"

She hit you with the spoon before you could talk "You are late 3rd time this week! We already have 5 customers waiting here! And your little friend group are already here even latanya" Your grandma stared sternly at you getting ready to hit you again "Ow! Fuck sorry ma I'm just awfully tired from all the "baking" (code word for agent work something you and your grandma made between the two of you) your grandma rolled her eyes ND signed you and her knew she couldn't be mad at her favorite "grandchild you better not be late again understand?" She said as she glared again making your skin pale and sweat drop "y-yes grandma right on it!"

• You grabbed your uniform and apron and zoomed into the kitchen your grandma sighed holding xin and petting her while she purred "I don't know what to do with that child sometimes" xin Mewed at her response

• "Y/N WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?!" Ziki was yelling across playfully glaring at you while using his telekinesis to put multiple frostings on cakes and pack them in boxes "Jeez I just got here and no hello 🙄" you playfully rolled your eyes ziki was one of your bestie at the agency the two of you met when you went on your 1st mission you two formed a chaotic bond and he introduced you into his friend group

• Miharu is the strict dad of the group while ziki was the most unserious one And kitkari was the menace of the group

• The 4 of you somehow managed to keep the cafe in one piece without slipping up and causing problems Kari and Aleina work waitresses while Miharu, like, and you work as cooks and at times you work the night and as cashiers Your grandma is the boss who helps manage the cafe environment

•"FUCK YOUR HELLO WE NEED YOU AT THE CASHIER Kari got called in sick again" "Oh for fucks sake I told her that she needed to stop tryna take and eat the expired pastries i warned her that some of them had mold on it"

You groaned while ziki rolled his eyes "you know her she don't give a fuck if that was a year old she'll still try to find a reason to eat thats why we call her a big back betty " the two of you snickers and gigler childishly at the name "WILL YOU TWO STOP MAKING OUT IN THERE AND HELP ME ALREADY"

"AYO!?"

"REPEAT THAT BUCKEROO!?"

Third pov

• Tsuyu and Tokoyami decided to spend their small break strolling through the city to find a new place to eat "How about this one tsu it's your favorite" she thought for a second but she shook her head and sighed we went there yesterday i wanna go somewhere new somewhere we haven't gone before *kero*" The frog girl kept looking around Eagar to find something new,

• They walked a bit further downtown until they saw a small bakery tsuyu was in awe at how adorable and neat the cafe was "Yami this is it! This is the one!" She tugged softly at her boyfriend's jacket tokoyami's sweat dropped a bit "Are you sure we haven't gone to this type of cafe nor don't know how safe the area is .." tokoyami muttered looking around suspiciously while holding tutus hand protectively

•"It's ok it's just gonna be a quick in and out trust me plus i heard it was so good" Tsuyu held his hand tightly and looked "You don't have to go in there if you're not comfortable," Tokoyami thought for a minute staring at the cafe while staring at tsuyu which made him blush a bit he signed "I guess trying something new won't hurt.." tsuyu's eyes lit up a bit and started to do small ribbits "well cmon then let's go!" The couple walked into the cafe and it was hit with a warm sweet smell "hello welcome to the cafe!" "Oh yes h-" she paused for a moment when she recognized that voice

• "Y/N!?!" The green-haired girl looked shocked observing you to see if it was you, "wait...who are you again like I know you I just dont know where" You yelled out "We were best friends! *kero* see?" She pulled out her phone scrolled back a couple of photos and showed you a picture you and Tsuyu took together it was a selfie of you and Tsuyu posing at the mall riding on those animal cars "OMG IT IS YOU!" You open across the table and the two of you hug tightly "Wait..tokoyami!?" He was shocked that you remembered him "Wait you remember me too?" "OFC! we were always study buddies whenever we did class projects! And you always wanted to invite Tsuyu here~" Tokoyami blushed and looked away

•"Oh hush you know nothing" he muttered and you giggled "So what are doing these days it's been years! Jeez, I've seen you a couple of times on TV congrats!" Tsuyu's smile brightens "Well you know a bunch of heroes work and me and Tokoyami officially dating!" You squealed "Im so happy for you! The two of you are so cute together! Tsuyu and Tokoyami sitting in a tree-" "Don't you even start-" just when he was about to scold you dark shadow joined in "1ST COME LOVE THEN COMES BABY-" "dark shadow i swear to god-" he groaned while the two of you giggled like children even tsuyu managed a chuckle while looking at the two of you it was nice..

• "anyway what would you like! We got all types of cupcake flavors! Sweet potato, mocha, Mochi, dango, cheesecake, we even release sesame cookies!" "HMM I'll think I'll have the...mochi flavor cupcake how about you tokoyami!" Tokoyami kept staring at the menu carefully "can I have the Japanese cheesecake please?"

"Coming right up!" You use your Heelys and stroll to the back of the store you go back out to tell me that their order will be on their way

• After a few minutes, you got back with their order "Here you go one mochi cupcake and flavor cheesecake!" You handed them their treats in a small adorable box even tsuyu didn't want to eat the sweets or open the box "Thank you! Also, im wondering if can we catch up I really do miss you and I really really miss you alot we both do..heck I bet even most of our class misses you" you were a bit shocked at that statement "aw tsuyu ofc! Lemme write down my phone number and social media!"

You both gave each other your and their number "It was nice talking to you y/n! See you later!" Tokoyami quietly waved to you with a small smile, it was good to meet old friends maybe you could see them again as we-

"Y/N QUICK ZIKI CAUSED ANOTHER FIRE"

"I DID NOT"

Later that night tsuyu and Tokoyami were getting ready for bed "I can't believe we finally found them! *kero* after for so long" Tokoyami nodded "but we should've made our move quicker the others would get to them 1st and we'd lose them forever" "Patient Yami" Tsuyu said going over and kissing Tokoyami on the cheek "It's way too early to do anything we gotta play it slow to trust me" she climbed in the shared bed "once they fall in love with one of us they'll be ours~"

????? Pov

?????: hmm so they have a cafe I see~ I looked closely to my darling as they say goodbye to those PEST I can't wait to tell ?????? that we found them~ we're coming y/n~

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 8 - Stuck in a hole

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer / TW: This is a crackfic and I laughed like a hyena writing parts of it. You have been warned.

Lae’zel was not having a good day. Wound tight as a string that was about to snap, the last dregs of her patience slipping through her fingers, she yearned for the peace that could only be found in her blade’s slashing through the flesh of her foes.

Their k'chakhi ‘leader’ was off investigating or, more likely, robbing a bank with her two pet elves and the harper Jaheira - that woman, at least, could be trusted to keep the istik nonsense to a minimum.

In the meantime, Lae’zel had volunteered to lead the wizard, warlock and cleric on a reconnaissance mission within Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. Alas, through no fault of her own - it was the wizard’s ever-crackling knees that blew their cover - they were caught and placed in a holding cell.

At least their captors shared the usual istik lack of discipline and common sense - they were not even taken to separate cells. And now, with some help from the wizard’s spells, they were making their way back out of the keep.

The warlock guided the group through the halls and passageways of the fortress - he was familiar with the layout. They had reached a wall which contained a gap large enough to crawl through (careless, these city dwellers, allowing such breaches to remain within their structures). Lae’zel allowed the two men to go through ahead of her, with the cleric trailing behind, but just as she was halfway through, an earthquake shook the keep, dislodging yet more of the bricks and stones that lined the wall and ceiling above, and trapping her in place. The stones had collapsed in a way that made it impossible to simply lift them from her. Miraculously, she was unharmed, praise be to Vl- chk! - but she was, undeniably, stuck between the two chambers separated by the crumbling wall.

“Have you any spells that might be of use, in your arsenal?” Wyll directed at Gale, once it was determined that manual extraction methods would not suffice, and once it was confirmed that Shadowheart was also unharmed - no one could see her behind the wall that separated the chambers.

“I’m afraid I’ve exhausted all the cunning tricks I had stashed up my sleeve getting us this far… But perhaps we have a scroll for the occasion?” said Gale.

"There’s got to be a scroll of gaseous form here somewhere,” Wyll said, digging through a bag of supplies. “Animal friendship… Colour spray… Why do we even carry these useless things?”

As the two mages (inept, both of them!) continued to rifle through their inventory of scrolls and trinkets, Lae’zel felt soft touches on the backs of her thighs. Shadowheart ran her fingers over Lae’zel’s bare skin, lightly brushing it with the blunt of her nails.

Lae’zel squirmed at the touch. Tsk’va, why had she ever divulged to the cleric that she was ticklish? It was so unlike her, so unwise to disclose a weakness… And this was not the time for such frivolities!

Lae’zel attempted to kick Shadowheart away, but the cleric easily dodged her without pausing her increasingly ribald caresses.

“Lae’zel?” Wyll asked.

“What?” she said, curtly, as Shadowheart continued to trace her thighs with her fingertips, feather light, making her skin tingle.

“There is a scroll of grease…” he said, hesitantly. “Perhaps if we-”

“No.”

Shadowheart’s hands moved up along the insides of Lae’zel’s thighs, playfully caressing the sensitive skin there, and continued to creep up. Lae’zel had to admit that it felt pleasant, even if the occasion was completely inappropriate for it.

Just as she thought the cleric would finally cease her foolishness, instead, Lae’zel felt the cleric fiddling with the clasps of her under-harness.

No. She wouldn’t dare.

Her mind had barely finished formulating that thought when her harness came undone, exposing her core. Lae’zel’s eyes shot wide open.

She dared.

Shadowheart’s fingers continued on their path along Lae’zel’s sex - gliding along the edges but refusing to slip inside.

Lae’zel knew she should’ve fought or at the very least ignored and refused to succumb to the cleric’s touch, and yet, despite herself, she felt a needful pulsing between her legs, blood rushing to all her most sensitive parts. She knew she would be dripping with slick in no time, if she wasn’t already. There was no use trying to hide it.

She was bested. It was undeniable. At this point there would be more honour, more dignity, in submission. She would accept defeat, this time, and use it as an opportunity to learn from the victor.

Lae’zel spread her legs and lifted her hips higher, presenting herself to the cleric.

Just a few feet away from her, Gale continued digging through his supplies.

“Ah, I have a scroll of goodberry!” he said. “Perchance you would like a snack while we search for solutions?”

Lae’zel all but hissed at the wizard in reply.

The cleric had wasted no time in accepting Lae’zel’s gesture of submission, and slid two fingers inside Lae’zel’s throbbing hole - stroking, but also searching and prying. Tsk’va! She had taught her too well.

Lae’zel sobbed as Shadowheart’s fingers located and curled into her t’rac spot.

Curses, she thought. Another weakness she had thoughtlessly disclosed prior, in a moment of foolhardiness.

“Lae’zel, are you alright?” Wyll said, with worry. The cleric must have heard her outcry, for her fingers continued their relentless assault with renewed, excited vigour.

“It’s nothing!” Lae’zel panted. “I… I do not do well in enclosed spaces.”

The spot within her pulsated with each stroke of the cleric’s fingers - a delicious sting, a palpitating itch that demanded more and more pressure, driving her to the edge of madness.

“It is important that you do not panic,” said Wyll, crouching down by Lae’zel. “We will get you out.”

“I am not panicking,” Lae’zel managed, breathlessly.

“No, of course not,” Wyll said, kindly. “Now… Lae’zel? Can you look at me?”

Assuming that he would not let the matter lie, Lae’zel lifted her gaze to meet the warlock’s, all the while arching her back and spreading her legs wider for Shadowheart.

“I am with you, and I will not leave you,” he said.

Lae’zel swore under her breath.

“Nice, deep breaths now. You are a mighty githyanki warrior, this is nothing you can’t handle.”

Lae’zel breathed deep, trying to keep her breaths level instead of gasping and gulping for air like she wanted to. The cleric’s ministrations had brought her to the very cusp of release. Only a little bit more… Only a little bit- A desperate whine, completely unexpected even by Lae’zel herself, tore from her throat as the cleric landed a sharp slap on her rear, without ceasing the stroking motions.

“Take my hand, Lae’zel!” Wyll urged her.

She cursed again but took his hand, nearly crushing it with the force of her grasp.

The warlock winced, but continued his efforts in uplifting her spirits.

“You are doing so well!”

With a sob, Lae’zel hid her face in the crook of her elbow, lying face down on the ground.

The blasted cleric had reached around her hips with her free hand, and began to rub around her exposed clitoris.

“There is no shame in being claustrophobic.”

As the words left Wyll’s mouth, Lae’zel’s whole world seemed to shake, and she released an animalistic scream from deep within her chest, just as she knew a generous spray of release squirted from between her shaking legs, continuing to be urged on by Shadowheart’s strokes. Somewhere in the back of her mind, spitefully, Lae’zel hoped it landed on the cleric.

It took some moments, but Lae’zel soon realised that her earth-shattering orgasm had, indeed, been accompanied by yet more tremors which shook everything around them.

And then all was still.

Lae’zel still panted when she felt Shadowheart refastening the clasps of her harness. A light, playful smack landed on her rump, before the cleric adjusted the strips of pteruges on her armour back in place, and retreated.

“It seems more of the stones have been dislodged, perhaps we can pull her out now?” said Gale, after he and Wyll had ascertained that Lae’zel remained unharmed.

She thought she would be inclined to murder all three of her companions on regaining her freedom, and yet when they finally pulled her out by her arms, Lae’zel felt oddly at peace. She met Shadowheart’s eyes when she followed her out through the crevice, and only let out a soft ‘chk’ at the sight of the smirking cleric.

She would exact skilful, precise revenge on her, later. On her honour as a warrior, yes she would.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[sarahsmi13s]

Lieutenant Rogers - part 8

Safe Places

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, bob floyd, dagger squad, sam wilson, john walker (mentioned), lemar hoskins (mentioned), karli morgenthau (mentioned), nico (mentioned)

word count: ~8.7k

chapter warnings: language, murder, grief, isolation, fighting, talk of blood, crying, internalizing feelings, vomiting (no one pukes but there are mentions of it), slightly obsessive behaviors, omaha is a good boyfriend, star really needs a hug, please let me know if I missed any

a/n: hi... hello... i just want to thank you all for your immense patience with me. i'm so so sorry it's almost been a year sense the last update. i hope this chapter was worth the wait 💙

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

chapter summary: in the wake of the publicized murder of a flag smasher, star has to wrestle with herself as she comes to terms with everything that has happened and anticipate what will happen in the fall out -- all the while omaha tries not to let his feelings overshadow hers

lieutenant rogers universe previous part || next part

You stared at your phone, the video stopped on a frame of the shield covered in blood. Your father’s shield, covered in blood. Covered in the blood of someone who was pleading for their life. It didn’t matter to you that they were a Flag Smasher. They were a fucking person.

Ice ran through your veins, a deathly chill capable of putting out the bonfire in front of you.

The one symbol of hope, the one piece of your father that you thought would keep a flame of his comfort burning in the world, was now smothered to nothing but bloodied ashes. His memory, his legacy, was now tainted. 

Swallowing the bitter taste of alcohol rising back up in your throat, you quietly excused yourself from the group.

You knew Omaha was watching you the whole time you trekked up the beach, your phone fighting for its life in your hand. He was going to give you your space, give you a moment to let yourself be angry and let it out before trying to console you. You needed a minute to be angry alone, then you both could be angry together.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time though, even as your face was illuminated by your phone screen as you called Sam.

You tried to take deep, calming breaths as you waited for Sam to pick up. 

It was morning time in Latvia, so you knew he would be awake. And if he wasn’t, you’d happily be his wake-up call.

Your thumb tapped on your fingers, index finger to pinky and back again, while your exhales fell out of trembling lips. You couldn’t puke. You weren’t going to puke. This was not the time to throw up. 

Saliva built up in your mouth, and your lips began to feel sticky – a tell-tale sign that you were probably going to vomit. Your stomach churned as you felt the buzzing heat of your nerves roll over your skin. 

You hated puking; you didn’t do it often. It was hard for you to get sick, and the serum also helped you to keep from puking after being in your plane. So, you being over the toilet or a trash can expelling the contents of your stomach wasn’t an event you experienced regularly. When it did happen, you were absolutely miserable.

You spit the built-up saliva out into the sand, your hand resting over your stomach as you hummed to try and ward away the nausea. 

Pick up the damn phone, Wilson, you thought as you closed your eyes and exhaled, head tilting up toward the navy blue sky.

Finally, just as you were about to hang up and try again, he answered, his tone already pleading and desperate.

“I know-” 

“What. The. Fuck did he do?” 

Sam’s words went unheard by you as you cut him off, hissing harshly into the receiver.

Anger and frustration rose up in place of the bile and alcohol that had been in your throat moments ago. Your words pushed the nausea out of the way.

Was your anger misplaced? You didn’t think so.

He promised you that he would keep John in line. Keep your father's legacy intact despite the catastrophe tasked with carrying it on. Sam gave you his word that he wouldn’t let Walker ruin it. 

And now, for John to go and do this? With Sam doing nothing to stop him?

As far as you were concerned, your anger towards him was justified.

“Y/N-”

“No, Sam! Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! What the hell happened?”

You weren’t about to let Sam try to calm you down. That wasn’t his place. Not after he failed to do the one thing he said he would.

Sam sighed, and the weight of it dampened the ringing in your ears slightly, a realization hitting you.

Sam was there. He watched it and everything that led up to it. He was just as angry about this situation as you were, not to mention the guilt and regret that probably weighed on his shoulders now, too.

Had your emotions jumped the gun? Did you lash out at Sam too quickly?

Despite that revelation there were things you couldn’t let go, justifications you were too stubborn to let go of. Stuck on his broken promise.

“Lemar Hoskins is dead. Karli killed him during a fight…”

Your heart sank.

You met Lemar once. It was before you left for the mission and only for a few minutes, but he seemed like such a sweet guy. He was there to support John and have his back; he was being a good friend.

And look where that got him…

You crossed your arm over your chest, your free hand gripping your bicep as your jaw clenched. “That’s-that’s unfortunate… but that doesn’t justify murder.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“He didn’t even kill Karli. Flag Smasher or not, that man was innocent.” You dug your foot into the sand, “He didn’t deserve to die.”

The ringing in your ears came back as the quiet slowly took over the call, Sam’s end unnervingly bare of words. Your jaw ticked in the silence, anger flaring up in your stomach. 

You finally broke it, letting yourself ask:

“Why didn’t you stop him? How could you allow this to happen?”

“Oh no, no, no, no. You’re not about to blame me for this,” Sam responded, his tone defensive and sharp.

Your free hand flew out to the side, your own defensiveness coming to light.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

In the midst of your shouting and arm flailing, you didn’t think about the possibility of there being people nearby. Nor did it occur to you that the scene you were making might make them uncomfortable – but, honestly, you didn’t really care.

“Don’t you think I would have stopped him if I could’ve? You really think that I just stood there and let him take an innocent life?”

The wild arm fell limp and slapped against your thigh, a huff escaping your lips. “Sam–”

“No, Y/N, it’s my turn to talk. While I understand your anger towards me, hell I’m angry towards me, but just give me a chance to explain. Please.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you looked at the sand, “Okay… tell me what happened.” Your voice was a little softer, not as brassy or harsh, but still firm.

Sam let out a breath, taking a moment to collect the right words.

“After the fight, we all just scattered. Bucky and I got separated from John, and… by the time we got there, we were too late.”

You stayed quiet, your tongue swiping over your teeth as you let Sam continue.

“He ran off after he realized what he had done… Bucky and I went after him, tracked him down to an abandoned train station. When we got there, we confronted him and tried to get the shield back civilly, but John’s pride got in the way… it got ugly, but we got the shield back. It’s with me right now.”

You nodded, your thumb popping your fingers at your side as you drew in a breath. 

“What about Walker?” You need to change the focus, your tongue redirecting itself to form the question rather than the comment it really wanted to say.

“What do you mean?” Sam was clearly confused by the shift, but he welcomed it internally.

“Where is John, Sam?”

“They- His handlers, I guess is what they are, took him back to the States. Probably will have a hearing in a few days…” He trailed off, now wondering why you wanted to know Walker’s whereabouts. “What are you planning, Star?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wilson,” you snapped.

“Y/N–”

“You can’t stop me, Sam. Don’t try–”

“Walker took the serum, Y/N.” Your brow furrowed for a second as you processed the words Sam had interrupted you with, and the second you did – it felt like your organs turned to lead.

John Walker was a Super Soldier now? That’s just… fucking great and definitely not a huge problem for you.

You groaned a little and rubbed your forehead after you recovered from the slight shock, “I’m still going to confront him. I can’t sit in fucking silence about this. Not now…”

“And I don't expect you to. But you needed to know what you were walking into.”

You swallow and nod, “Well, thank you for that. I’ll umm.. I’ll keep that in mind.” After another beat of silence, Sam sighed a little, “Look, Y/N, we–”

You shook your head, “Later, Sam, this… this is not a conversation I want to have over the phone with just you. Bucky needs to be in on this, too.”

“Right, right, of course.” 

You nodded and shook out your hand, “Bye, Sam.”

“Talk later, kid.”

After hanging up, you rubbed your face before shoving your phone in your pocket and walking toward the shore.

You needed a second to breathe. You just got back from a high-stress mission, and now Walker has desecrated the only thing left of your father in this world that people put meaning to. And you knew that by tomorrow morning, newspapers, magazines, and the news reporters would be on your ass trying to get a statement.

Were you going to respond? Hell no. Why? Because you didn’t need your words twisted and thrown out into the world for people to use for their own agenda.

But you would deal with that in the morning. Right now, you just need to think and take a breath.

A chilled, salty breeze cooled your heated skin and brought notice to the hot tears of frustration on your cheeks.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you wiped them from your face. “Get it together, Rogers..”

“Honey,” Neil said gently to announce his presence before he touched your shoulders. 

You sucked in a breath, “‘m fine, baby…” He shook his head and turned you to face him, “No, Star-light, you’re not.”

More tears sprung to your eyes, and you looked down in an attempt to fight them off. “No, Neil, I’m f-”

He tilted your chin up, “Stop lying to yourself. You’re not okay, you’re pissed. You have every right to be upset.” His thumb reached up to swipe a tear away, “Please don’t hold it in…”

Your lip quivered, and you inhaled sharply, shaking your head, “I have to be strong. I can’t fucking cry just because I’m angry.” You pulled back a little and harshly wiped your eyes, not missing the look on your boyfriend’s face. 

You knew he was just looking out for you and you knew he was right. But you had a mission and you needed to focus. You could break down later – breaking down would cause you to shut down, and you didn’t have time to shut down.

Omaha sighed and helped wipe away the tears that escaped, “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t hold this in – it’s okay to cry…” He held your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “Scream, yell, cry, punch something-”

“Neil, I appreciate this, all of it. I do. But you just don’t understand what’s going on in my brain and in my heart right now.”

“Then help me understand. I want to be there for you.”

You sighed sadly, “I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. And you are here for me, Neil. Because you’re who I’m gonna fall on when the weight of this crashes down on me, you are going to be my rock.” You cupped his face in your hands, “You are my rock. I just… I need to face this first.”

He nodded and kissed your palm before kissing your fingertips as he moved one of your hands to his chest. “I love you, Star-light.” You smiled softly at him, “I love you too, Oma.” 

Omaha kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, “You wanna head home?” You sniffled and nodded against his neck, “Please, if I stay, I’m afraid I’ll ruin the mood…” He nodded and rubbed your back, “C’mon Doll, let’s go home. I’ll send someone a text and let them know what’s goin’ on.”

You nodded and pulled back from the hug but stayed tucked under his arm as you both walked to Neil’s Jeep.

The ride home was nearly silent. The only sound in the Jeep was the radio, which had been turned down as low as it could go while still being audible.

Your left hand was threaded with his right one, your thumb pressing down on his knuckle like a button. The tip of his thumb moved up and down, letting itself be manipulated. Neil always made sure to keep his hand loose and moveable when you were tense or anxious. He knew how little control you felt you had in this situation, how you felt like the entire universe was crashing down on you, and you had nothing to get the pieces back in their rightful place.

So he could give you this. He could let you squeeze and press and twist and pull, trace whatever lines or patterns you needed to to ease your nerves. To let you feel in control of something.

Omaha knew better than to ask you questions. Your conversation with Sam was a private thing and something that you would talk to him about when you were ready. He didn’t need to push you for information or to talk about your feelings right now, and he trusted that if it was something you thought he needed to know, you would tell him.

That trust didn’t stop him from worrying, though.

He could handle your anxious silence. He understood it. But that doesn’t mean he liked it. 

He knew that your mind wasn’t putting together coherent thoughts, each one overlapping the next until it was just a cacophony of things that overwhelmed you to the core. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tears in your lash line, welling up and making your eyes glossy. They beaded up on your eyelashes like dew on blades of grass in the morning. They gorgeously reflected any light that they could catch – the moonlight, streetlights, headlights of the few cars that passed you. But you didn’t let them roll over, catching them on the back of your finger before they had the chance.

Your chest stuttered softly with your shaky inhales, something he would have never noticed if he hadn’t learned all of your habits over the course of your five-year relationship. You tried to keep your breathing soft and controlled, quiet enough so you didn’t worry Neil. 

He’d also catch you attempting to pick at your lips, squeezing your hand every once in a while to divert your attention and let you know that he saw you. Usually, you’d give him an absent-minded squeeze back, and your hand would move to your chest, your thumb rubbing against the words scribbled across your collarbone and your heart thumping against it in time with the pulse he could feel against his own wrist.

He almost didn’t want to go home. He could sit in silence in the car, drive around for hours in this silence. In this silence, you were right next to him, holding his hand. This silence wasn’t despair; it wasn’t as heartbreaking as the silence at home.

At home… at home, you had more room to be distant. You had space to be alone, away from him. He understood that you needed space, but he hated it when you would isolate yourself in your own home. You’d tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and just try to figure it out by yourself. You’d completely detach yourself and go into focus mode, locking on to figuring out how to fix this situation – one that couldn’t really be fixed.

When he finally decided to pull into the house, you didn't do what he expected. Omaha expected you to yank your hand from his and bolt into the house to find a corner to hide in.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you swallow, sniffling slightly as you turn from the window to face Neil. He squeezed your hand, letting you know he was still there and he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I’m going to DC…”

You didn’t look up at him as you spoke, afraid you’d break if you looked into his eyes. His kindness and understanding swam in them, conveying his feelings so his words never had to. And they were your safe place.

His eyes were kaleidoscopes of colors. The light manipulated them beautifully, capturing each shade in its individuality and in their unity. They were gorgeous. They were home.

They could be the soft dirt, warm, comforting, and inviting – ready for something to hold. Or they were the grass or the trees, fields and forests of serenity and calmness – a place you could find peace. Or they were the sky or the ocean, two of the greatest expanses on earth – a place you felt in control and a place that showed you just how delicate you could be, a place you could relax and let go.

They were all of those things…

They were Neil.

You squeezed his hand, grounding yourself with the chill of his skin against the heat of yours. You took a deep breath, tracing the veins on the back of his hands to focus.

“You-you don’t have to come with me. This is last minute, and we just got home, but–”

“Star-light, I’m going with you. Whether it’s to be your support, your back up, or your alibi – I’m going.”

He knew that you weren’t asking his permission to go to DC, nor were you really asking him to go with you. But he was going. He wasn’t letting you go all the way across the country alone. He’d stay at the hotel or in the Airbnb if you wanted, but he was going to be within reach of you – that was non-negotiable. 

“I… This isn’t going to be some fun trip. I think you know why I’m going… So I want you to think about this.”

Neil didn’t need to know and he wasn’t going to ask questions, either. You would tell him why, probably were about to, before he interrupted you. And he could only assume it had to do with that video and your phone call with Sam. 

“I don’t need to. When it comes to you, to this, I’m going to be by your side. You want to face John, let him know that you know what he’s done and that he fucked up. I’m just gonna be there so you don’t get yourself hurt or in trouble.”

He squeezed your hand again, “I’m your partner, your wingman. I am here for you, whenever you need me.”

He watched your face carefully as he spoke, catching the quirk of the corners of your mouth before you sobered up and nodded.

“I’ll um… I’ll get the tickets after we get inside. They’ll be shitty, but they’re last minute…”

“As long as they’re next to each other, I don’t care.” 

And that was true. He didn’t care where you sat in the plane – just that you sat together. He wanted – no, he needed to be next to you. Being there for you is his priority right now.

You swallowed and nodded once more, caging his hand between yours.

“I will do my best.” 

He hated how quiet your voice was. It wasn’t a normal quiet. It was meek and powerless. You sound defeated and scared. 

You were none of those things. And seeing you this way broke his heart.

His free hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you toward him gently as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes closing as he tried to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could muster into it.

And it seemed to transfer.

Your shoulders relaxed as he felt your shaky exhale brush the skin of his neck.

His eyes stayed closed as he spoke against your skin, “I love you, Star-light.” 

You nodded against his lips, feeling comfort in your chest at the vibration of his low voice against your forehead. His voice was smooth with a slight rasp, similar to warm dark chocolate with a shot of whiskey mixed in – it was just… peaceful.

It took over the other voices that were shouting in your head. All it took was the low whisper of those four words to dampen the screaming. Those voices were still there, but Neil’s made its presence known, and that was enough to get them to back off a little.

“I love you too, Oma. So so much…”

Your voice was still soft, but there was a strength that returned to it. It sounded fuller, not as hollow as it had before.

Omaha wasn’t sure how long that would last, but he would take the win.

He pulled back after pressing another kiss to your forehead, and his hand moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Let’s go in. We need some sleep so we can get up and pack.” 

You nodded, inhaling deeply to ground yourself before exiting the safety of the Jeep.

Neil smiled softly at you, hoping to get you to smile back. And you did… But he knew that you’d done it out of reflex rather than because you felt like smiling.

You turned your head and kissed the palm of his hand, squeezing the one you were holding before you pulled away completely and got out of the Jeep. 

He sighed as your door shut, and he unbuckled himself, getting out to meet you at the front door.

After getting inside, you silently moved around the house. 

Both of you had already rinsed your legs and feet of sand and emptied your shoes before leaving, so you didn’t have to worry about that at all. So, you just quietly went to the kitchen and got your laptop before you walked towards your bedroom.

“Hey,” Neil said, gently catching your arm as you walked past him. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go to bed. Do you want-”

“I’ll shower after you. I want to make sure I get these tickets ordered, and that I can snag a decent flight time. I’m hoping there’s still some left for this morning.” Your voice was breathless, almost as if you had been holding your breath as you moved through the house. The words sounded rushed and rehearsed like you had been waiting for him to ask. Your mind was already set on showering separately.

All Omaha could do was nod. He could try to convince you to join him, tell you he’d wait for you to order the tickets – but your mind was made up. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

“You don’t have to. Take as long as you need.”

Something in your voice and the way your eyes looked down at where his hand gripped your bicep made his stomach feel heavy. 

You were reverting again. Going back to that corner he thought he had pulled you away from. Isolating yourself again when he was right there. 

He was right there. 

All you had to do was just let him sit with you. Or take his hand and let him pull you up. 

You would talk to him when you were ready. He knew that. But he didn’t like that you were trying to face this all on your own because you felt like you were alone. You weren’t. 

He was right there.

But he nodded, knowing if he pushed, you would back away or lash out like a scared and wounded animal. The opposite of what he wanted. “Alright…”

You gave him another closed-mouth smile and kissed his shoulder before settling in the bedroom.

He rubbed his face, a frustrated sigh left his lips before he shook his head to himself and went to the laundry room to toss two towels into the dryer before grabbing a clean one for himself.

Walking into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on top of the covers with your laptop on your desk tray as you bit your nails. He sighed sadly and walked over, grabbing a piece of gum from your vanity on the way. 

He moved your hand away from your mouth, his grip gentle on your wrist as he held out the gum to you.

No words needed to be exchanged, just a silent moment between you both before he left you alone on the bed to take his shower.

Neil stood under the stream, the hot water drenching his hair and running down his face. 

He avoided his music, knowing that it would do nothing to change his mood. He needed the silence – bask in the steam and the rhythmic beating of water on the titles around him. 

His head fell back, letting the water pelt him in the face as he took deep breaths. In front of him, his hands balled into fists when he inhaled and relaxed as he exhaled. 

Neil needed this. He needed this moment, to be alone and vulnerable behind the closed door – out of your sight. 

There was irony in it; he knew that. The irony when he ran off to hide in the safety of the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him break. Didn’t have to watch him replay every moment over and over in his head. You were going through enough, and he wasn’t about to let you see his hurt or his worry just yet. This wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to make it about him.

So, that’s why he was here, standing under the showerhead with his eyes closed, the events on the beach replayed behind his eyelids like a movie.

******

His stomach churned as he watched the video from over your shoulder. The pleads of the young man not going unheard. Then, the sickening crack of the shield being driven into his chest. He heard it again and again… and again. 

John Walker murdered someone. And the whole world saw it.

Rage drove up in his throat, slamming on the brakes and leaving a disgusting burnt taste on his tongue. 

It was almost a metallic taste, a morbid mimicry of the paused frame that lit up your features. 

Your expression seemed blank, shocked at the horrendous act. But your eyes told a different story. 

As they scanned over your phone screen, Neil could see the pain creep in. He watched them crack, breaking as they reflected the blood-stained shield.

Your nose twitched subtly as your lip quivered. He glanced at your hands, noticing how they shook slightly. He doubted that you noticed the tremor, just staring with unblinking eyes at your phone.

“Honey…” 

He wanted to get your attention but not startle you. Your fellow pilots began to stare, concern and pity etched on their faces. He needed to get you out of this, pull you away from the prying eyes and the inevitable questions they would bombard you with.

The squad would try to coddle you. Tip-toe around subjects to try not to make you cry. Or ask invasive questions that you weren’t ready to answer. They meant well, sure, but it wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make this situation better. Nothing would…

“Doll-”

You swallowed, your hands dropping to your sides as you excused yourself to trek up the sand wanting a moment alone. Your arm flexed as you had a death grip on your phone.

“Omaha, I didn’t-”

“I know, Garcia,” Neil mumbled as he turned to keep an eye on you, his back to the bonfire. “I know.”

He kept his eye on you as you talked on the phone, most likely with Sam or Bucky, as the others tried to continue on with the party. 

He watched your hands and your legs, noticing the near-perpetual bouncing of your left leg. 

Neil hated this. Hated just standing here, just being some witness to the damage John’s actions caused. His emotions were collateral damage, only worsening with each minute he watched you stand there in pain.

He couldn’t hear much, distant hissing and muffled sentences mostly. But then he heard you shout, your arm flying out to the side.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

His heart shattered. Even from this distance, he could hear how broken your voice was, how it was strained with unshed tears.

He felt his nose burn, sniffling on reflex as he rubbed it with his index finger. 

“Vikander? You alright?”

Omaha hummed absent-mindedly in response, not processing the question or the voice that asked it. 

“Neil, hey, are you okay?”

The hand on his shoulder pulled his attention from you, making him suck in a breath out of surprise. “What?”

Bob shot him a concerned look, “Are you okay? You looked like you zoned out for a second.” 

*****

His conversation with Bob is a blurry memory.

All he remembers is taking his eyes off you for what felt like a second to talk to Bob and take a sip of the water offered to him. By the time he turned back around to check on you, you had walked down to the shore.

He felt his stomach sink again as he remembered how your arms had been wrapped around your waist, how your shoulders moved up and down with your deep breaths. And how when he approached you, you scolded yourself for crying as you tried to subtly wipe at your tears.

You tried to lie and say you were fine, hiding your tears when he pushed you ever so slightly. You pushed back, dismissed your own feelings and held your hurt in. 

Neil’s tears mixed with the water running down his face.

But he didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care that he was crying over something he couldn’t fix. Something that was tearing you apart from the inside out, but you hid from him – hid from yourself. You were hurting, and it hurts him that you don’t think you can be vulnerable.

So, he didn’t care that he was crying because it was you – he loves you that much.

His shower was a little longer than normal, but he didn’t think you would really mind right now. 

He just went through his routine on autopilot as his mind wandered and raced, recapping the evening. He ended it with a cold shot, letting the freezing water cool his heated skin and hopefully soothe his aching heart.

Omaha got out and dried off, moving languidly as he kept zoning out.

He wasn’t sure what state he would find you in when he walked into the bedroom. That scared him. This whole situation scared him because he had no idea what to expect next. He didn’t know what you were going to do when you got to DC or when you saw John Walker. 

It all just made him uneasy. 

But he knew that he just had to trust you. Though he wasn’t going to abandon his concerns if he felt that something was dangerous. He’s your partner; your safety matters to him.

After he dried off and got dressed in his boxers and Navy shirt, he exited the bathroom as he ran the towel over his hair.

“You might want to give it a minute or two. Let the hot water replenish a little,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

He didn’t hear a response, so he looked up to catch the tail end of your nod. 

“I got the tickets order. Flight leaves at about ten in the morning,” you responded softly, picking at your lip as you looked at your computer screen. “Um, San Diego International is the airport. It’s the closest but we’ll need to get up earlier so we can pack.”

Neil tried not to sigh out loud at your subject change. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose; you were just trying to keep what you could in line and control whatever you could. He also knew the frustration in him wasn’t caused by you. 

He nodded and sat on your side of the bed, trying not to look at your computer screen knowing he would find articles about John on your screen.

“Baby,” he called softly, hoping you would look up at him. When you didn’t, he repeated the nickname: “Baby, please look at me.” 

When your eyes remained glued to your screen, he closed the laptop and grabbed your desk tray, moving it to your actual desk.

“Okay, no, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Neil-”

“No, Y/N,” he pushed, sitting in front of you. “You can’t do that because it is not going to help. You are just going to go further and further down a hole that I can’t pull you out of.”

He grabbed your hands, knowing that you would try to run away if he didn’t. “I get that you're frustrated. That you’re pissed off. I get it, baby. But reading articles that are full of more opinions than they are fact is not going to help you.”

You swallowed and looked at him, “People think he was justified…”

His heart shattered right then in his chest. Your defeated and tear-filled voice crashed into it, sending shards of his heart into his throat.

“How could they find murder justified? John had no right-” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him. 

He cupped your chin, turning your head back to look at him and moving his hand to your cheek when you did. “That man did not deserve to die. Flag Smasher or not, he did not deserve that. John had no right to kill him.”

“Nico…”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

Tears filled your eyes, your voice coming out in a soft whimper. “His name was Nico…”

“Sweetheart…”

“He was murdered… All because he wanted to help people. That’s all they want to do is help people, Neil.” Your voice cracked as he watched anger fill your eyes, “He left behind two sisters… Two girls who watched their brother get murdered. They got notified of his death through fucking social media. His murder is viral.” 

He stayed quiet, letting you go until you stopped yourself – willing to listen as long as you got your feelings out to him.

“Sure, the Flag Smashers methods aren’t ethical, and Karli hasn’t been a saint. But they’re the only ones actually willing to do anything to help those people. The GRC isn’t doing shit!”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was much he could say. 

You pulled your hand from his, rubbing your face harshly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That… I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

Neil shook his head immediately, resting his hand on your knee. “No, don’t apologize. You don’t have to bottle it up.” 

You gave him a weak smile, resting your hand on top of his. He smiled back at you reassuringly before he turned his palm up and kissed your hand.

You just sat like that for a moment. Your hand in his as the water rolled off his dark hair and onto the duvet, letting the silence settle between you for a moment.

“They think he’s justified because Lemar was killed during a fight… They see it as retribution for that,” you said softly after a few minutes while you played with his fingers. 

Omaha shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but you continued.

“It wasn’t even Nico that killed Lemar. Karli was…”

He squeezed your hand, “So then it’s not retribution. And one injustice does not fix another.” 

You shook your head, looking down at your joined hands. “It doesn’t…”

A tear hit Neil’s hand, making his heart break – again. But he didn’t make a huge scene. He didn’t point it out. All he did was reach out and gently wipe the tear from your cheek. “Why don’t you go shower, Star-light? The water pressure is nice, and it should all be warmed up now. I’ll heat up your towel and hair towel in the dryer. What do you want to wear to bed?”

You sniffled and leaned into his hand. “One of your oversized shirts and a pair of your boxers, please.” He nodded and kissed your forehead, “You got it, doll.”

“Thank you, Oma, really.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he squeezed your hand. “Just go take a shower, relax. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You nodded and gently pecked his lips, “I love you.” He kissed you back, “I love you too.”

Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to the bathroom, leaving Neil on the bed.

He sat on the bed and waited to hear you turn the shower on before he started moving around the room.

After grabbing the clothing items you asked for and his phone, he went to the laundry room.

He sighed heavily as he tossed the clothes in with the towels and started the dryer, hoping that they would be warm by the time you were done in the shower.

“Okay, now what to–”

Mid-sentence, Neil’s phone started ringing. He didn’t need to check the caller ID to know who it was.

“Hey Bob…” He answered, his voice flat to try and conceal the relief of someone to talk to.

“Hey, I was just calling to check-in. See how you both were holdin’ up.”

Neil sighed, his arm crossing over his chest as he leaned against the washing machine. “Honestly? Not great. I um… I caught her looking at articles.”

Bob inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone, “That’s not good…”

“No, no, it’s not… There are so many who agree with John’s actions and others that don’t. But they’re all just opinions. No one is going to know all the facts. They only know what they saw in that video. And what they saw was John murder someone with the shield in the middle of the town square.”

Omaha harshly ran his teeth over his bottom lip, “I don’t know what to do, Bob. She’s hurting, and she won’t talk to me. She’s said a few things, but the closest I got to her emotions was her voice… Then she fucking apologized for talking about it. What do I fucking do?”

“What you’re doing, Neil. Being there for her. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

“That’s not enough!”

“Neil, I know you’re angry…”

That was the understatement of the century. 

Neil was pissed. Someone hurt you. Someone’s careless and selfish actions have hurt you – again.

Someone has taken you from him. Their actions have caused you to internalize your feelings and put your guards up all over again. Making you hide from your safe places.

And that started a fire in him.

“I’m more than angry, Robert. She is hurting. She has to mourn the memory of her father after mourning him the first time!”

Neil tends to hold resentment towards the one that hurt you, Bob knew that. He still holds resentment towards your dad for what he did to you. No one will get away with trying to smother out his Star-light.

And now John was at the top of his list. 

“Walker had no right to murder that man – even if he were to be the one to kill Lemar. Retribution or not, it’s still fucking murder. And John won’t get away with this.”

Neil couldn’t give less of a fuck if he was Captain America or not. John wasn’t getting away with hurting you or disrespecting something that held so much meaning for you.

Bob sighed again, most likely putting his glasses on his head to rub his eyes. “Omaha, you know she won’t want you to get involved in this… She’s keeping things to herself for a reason. And while you don’t like it, she’s protecting you and herself by doing that.”

“I just want to be there for her. I want her to come to me so she doesn’t face this on her own,” Neil’s voice cracked as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I want to be her safe place again…”

“That is never going to change, Neil. Never. You will always be her safe place. And she knows that when she is ready, she can run to you, and you’ll be there with open arms. She just needs to process this on her own… give her time.”

Neil nodded, wiping his eyes harshly as he tried to regain his own composure. 

“Your feelings are justified, Neil. You are allowed to be upset, too. So don’t think that you being scared or upset about her closing herself is selfish or anything, because it’s not.”

Omaha couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader, Bob?”

“Well, Nick Fury’s not on my doorstep, so I’m gonna stick with no,” Bob laughed.

A beat of silence passed before Neil spoke up.

“Hey, we’re leaving for DC tomorrow morning. Do you think you could go grab my Jeep from the airport and bring it back to the house? Y/N can leave her spare key somewhere for you. And maybe just look after the house since you're only a few houses down?”

“Of course, I can do that for you.”

“Thanks, man.” Neil sighed and looked back toward the bedroom. “I better get going. Calm myself down before she gets out of the shower.”

“Alright, good luck. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

Both hung up, and Neil wiped his face before going back to the bedroom to wait for you to get out of the shower.

You sighed as you tossed and turned in your bed, your body becoming restless the moment you thought you were comfortable. You thought the shower would’ve calmed you down, but the stress was eating at your nerves and making your stomach churn constantly. 

The anxiety was making you feel hot, your already naturally high body temperature rising as your mind ran at a million miles a minute.

Huffing, you threw the cover off of you and got out of bed. 

Your feet drug as you took yourself to the kitchen. 

You got a glass of ice water before going to the living room and sitting in the corner of the couch. 

Sleep wasn’t coming to you anytime soon, not with all the thoughts running through your mind… So you sat on the couch and looked out of your sliding glass doors at the moonlit backyard.

Your eyes felt heavy with tears. They were tears of frustration and anger. Tears of heartbreak. It was all so much, and being left alone with your thoughts was probably the worst situation you could have put yourself in. But you couldn’t go anywhere or talk to anyone about this. They wouldn’t understand anyway. 

Tears weighed down your lash line, blurring your vision as you zoned out completely. They slowly overflowed, breaking the surface tension and tracking down your face.

But you weren’t crying. 

No. Crying involved you actually feeling something, and right now… numbness was overtaking it all. Pushing everything from the last few hours into one blurry mess of static.

You didn’t have time to cry… you had a mission to complete.

The next morning, Neil woke up to see you moving around the room and packing bags for both of you.

He glanced over and checked the time, seeing just how early it was, “What time did you get up?” You didn’t look up from what you were doing as you answered him, “Didn’t sleep.” 

“Star-light…” 

“Oma, I’m fine. If I need to sleep, I’ll sleep,” you said, still shoving things into your bags.

You didn’t need sleep. Sleep was the furthest down on your list of needs. What you really needed was to get on a plane and get to DC so you could confront the hurricane of emotions that were swirling through your being.

You needed to release the fermenting anger and frustration; it was poisoning you, and you knew it. But you were too damn stubborn, wanting to hold it in and take it out on the true cause of it.

Dumping it all on Omaha or your friends wasn’t fair, not in your eyes. It wasn’t justice in them either. John wasn’t going to miss your wrath. He’d been on your radar since he took up the mantle, and now you were trying to get a missile lock.

That was justice.

Neil sighed and got out of bed, ruffling his hair as he walked over to you. “I know you’re a super soldier, but you’re not invincible. Your body can only handle so much. You need to sleep.” He wrapped his arms around you, “I just-”

“Neil, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you huffed, leaning on the duffels in front of you. 

“I know, and I’m not trying to get you to talk about it. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready. But I’m not just gonna abandon my duties as your boyfriend. I’m still gonna make sure you take care of yourself because I love you.”

You sighed and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, “I know… I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple, “Don’t apologize. You’re going through a lot. But I’m gonna make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Sniffling a little, you rest your hands on top of his. “Thank you, honey… I just–”

You were cut off by your phone ringing. 

You huffed again and went over to pick it up. “Hello?... No comment.” You hung up and shoved your phone into your sweatpants pocket. 

“That was fast,” Neil pointed out as he started packing whatever was left.

Rubbing your forehead, you sat on the bed as you sighed, “Yeah, that is the… fifth? Maybe the sixth reporter to call me for a statement on all of this. I can’t turn my phone off, so I just answer and say, ‘no comment’. This has been going on since 4 this morning.” You felt your phone go off with a short ring in your pocket. 

Neil opened his mouth to say something but you held a hand up, “Don’t get me started on the emails.”

He just nodded with a playful smile and continued to pack.

You both sat in silence for a little bit, but Omaha broke it when he noticed you were fidgeting.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’re a little more fidgety than you usually are…” 

Last night, as you evaded sleep, it occurred to you that Neil had no idea that John was a super soldier. You hadn’t told him that very important detail last night. It didn’t change your mind, but keeping your boyfriend in the dark about that wasn't fair.

You swallowed, playing with the worn cuffs of your hoodie, “There’s um…” You scratched your brow, “I didn’t tell you everything last night…” 

He stopped packing and came over to stand in front of you, “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me–” 

“No, this,” you nodded as you kept your head down, looking at your lap. “This I need to tell you…” 

“Doll, you’re worrying me… what’s wrong?” 

You looked up at him, swallowing your nerves before speaking, “John took the serum… he’s a super soldier now.” 

Neil’s eyes widened as he took a few steps back, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“I’m sorry?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were up as he tilted his head, but he wasn’t really asking.

He let out a dry chuckle, “Did you just say that John Walker, the man you’re about to fly to DC to confront, was a um… was a super soldier? Or-or am I hearing things? I really, really hope that’s not what you just said.”

“You heard right… John took the serum,” you played with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

Neil put his hands on his hips and nodded, “Okay…” He wiped his mouth before pressing his lips into a thin line and rolling them between his teeth. 

He took in a deep breath through his nose, attempting to keep his voice steady as emotion began to rise in his throat. He knew his hands would start shaking at any minute, so his voice couldn’t break or waiver and ruin how serious he was.

“You knew… You knew, and you were still gonna confront him? At probably the most emotionally unstable point in his life! Are you insane?!”

You winced a little and rubbed your face as he started to pace back and forth. “Oma-” “Were you even gonna tell me?” Neil cursed himself for the breathy, almost dejected tone that began to work its way into his voice. 

You looked up, desperation for understanding in your eyes. “Yes but-”

“When? Before or after you got yourself killed?”

You stood up, frustrated that he wasn’t letting you explain yourself, “I can handle myself, Neil.” 

“It’s not about that Y/N! It’s about whether or not John is capable of murder! And as we learned last night, he absolutely is!” 

You scoffed and put your hands on your hips, pointing an accusatory finger at your boyfriend, “You just don’t think that I can do it! You don’t think I can handle this, do you?” 

He stayed silent, his brown eyes avoiding you as he tongued his cheek.

Your heart dropped to your feet, and your hands fell limp at your sides. “You actually don’t think I can do this…”

He hung his head, “This is dangerous, Y/N. John isn’t just some dickhead with a shield anymore… He’s angry, and I’m sure whatever the council has to say to him can’t be good.” 

In a flash, your anger resurfaced. “A shield? A shield?! It’s more than just ‘a shield’, Neil! It’s THE shield! The shield my father earned! The shield that was made for him! For HIM! Not John! My dad worked for that shield, he earned it! John was handed the shield! So don’t just call it ‘a shield’ because it is so much more than that! And you know that!”

Neil flinched a little at your volume, not expecting you to react that way, but not shocked by it either. “You’re right, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”

Finally, he met your eyes, and you could see the emotion swirling in them. “I’m scared…” 

You swallowed and stayed silent, your anger smothering out as your expression softened.

“An-and I get that confronting him is the best way for you to get your feelings and emotions out… But we know what John is capable of. We know that he can and will kill someone with the slightest bit of provoking. You are going to be his antagonist, and that scares the shit out of me.”

“I can handle John, Neil…” You protested quietly, still hurt by the fact he thought you couldn’t. 

He sighed and rubbed your arms before tilting your head up. “It’s not that I don’t think you can. You’re quite literally the strongest person I know. But I’m scared, Y/N, and I’m not apologizing for being worried for your safety. I just need you to be safe.” 

You sniffled, “I’m not changing my mind… I can’t let him slip by, thinking that I don’t know what he did. He has to know-” You looked away as emotion clogged your throat. “He has to know, Neil. He has to know that I know.”

He gently turned your head back to face him, “I know. And I’m not asking you to change your mind. The bastard deserves to see the pain he caused. All I’m asking is that you’re careful and you really think about your approach. I love you too much to keep in my concerns.” 

You nodded before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. I love you so much.” You pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll try my best to be careful. But I can’t make you a promise…” He nodded, “That’s all I ask.” 

Omaha pecked your lips, “C’mon, we got a flight to catch.”

how do you even describe this...

other than just pain and anger.

star is kicking herself more than she probably should be and omaha is just trying to keep her as safe as he can...

but how will confronting walker turn out?

hi guys! i just want to thank you again for your incredible patience. i can not and will not promise you when the next part will be up and ready to go. but i will be working on it to get it out to you guys 💙

lt rogers tags <33 (i apologize if i missed anyone if i did please remind me in the comments):

@milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @twsssmlmaa

@malindacath @startrekfangirl2233 @indigodaydream @that-one-random-writer @hangmansgbaby

@nikkipea @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yourlocalloser-core @mimi-8793 @scalesarenotbalanced

@carnationworld @bethabear12

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 14

Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who participated in WIP Wednesday yesterday! It was a blast. I got so much work done.

This mainly Steve centric. Did I write almost an entire chapter with Steve going to bat for Edie to beat out some childhood trauma of my dad never doing that despite doing it for my older siblings? Yes. Does it further plot? Not really. But it was cathartic anyway.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

***

Steve didn’t like talking to principals or teachers as a whole. They got harder to charm as time passed. He could charm hardened business men out of their hard earned cash, but for some reason teachers failed to be charmed him.

So instead of charming them, he decided that he would do it the Nancy Wheeler method and bowl them over with facts.

Principal Kim and Mr Pearson were waiting for him when he arrived. They both rose up to greet him and he shook both of their hands.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” he said seriously. “I understand that tracing a picture for the art show and for her assignment is a very severe offense. And I of course want to address those allegations as to not tarnish her reputation and make it harder for her to get into colleges and universities.”

Mr Pearson sneered. “You’d just buy her way into any school she wanted anyway.”

Steve locked eyes with Principal Kim and even she looked shocked.

“Excuse, Mr Pearson,” she began, “do I mean to understand that you feel that Edith Harrington bought her way into your art class?”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped, realizing he had said the quiet part out loud. “I didn’t mean to apply that she was without talent or merit. But the picture in question is too good for someone her level.”

Steve twisted his bottom jaw as he ran his tongue over his teeth slowly. “How do you feel about the pinprick method?”

Principal Kim frowned. “The what?”

Mr Pearson squirmed in his seat. “It’s method used by many artists when copying works to ensure the height and width of the subject are in the correct proportions.”

Principal Kim turned to Steve. “And you assert your daughter used this method on her most recent assignment?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, and I can prove it.” He turned to Mr Pearson. “You brought the picture with you like I asked, yes?”

Mr Pearson snarled and grabbed his messenger bag. He ripped it open and got out Edie’s picture she had done of Irises by Van Gogh. It was a beautiful piece that showed bright blue irises on the side of a road.

“Can you honestly tell me that she did that without tracing it first?” he asked gruffly. He threw on the principal’s desk.

“It’s very pretty,” she said.

“Did you see her trace it?” Steve asked, turning to the teacher.

“Excuse me?” Mr Pearson asked, straightening up in his chair. “Of course not! She wouldn’t dare trace it in class.”

“What did she do in class?” Steve asked, crossing legs and wiggling his shoulders as he got comfortable. “She had to do something, right?”

Mr Pearson scowled. “I have a class of twenty four students, I can’t be watching each one every second of every day,” he scoffed waving his hands.

Principal Kim nodded sympathetically. “That’s just the way it is, I’m afraid, Mr Harrington.”

Steve smiled. “Oh I don’t doubt it, herding teenagers is difficult in small groups, I can’t imagine tripling the amount of teenagers I used to chaperon around when I got out of high school. I completely understand.”

Mr Pearson eyed him warily. “And where are you going with this?”

“She had to check off certain stages of her work with you, did she not?” Steve said, bouncing his leg on his knee.

Mr Pearson frowned. “Of course she did.”

“And at any stage did her work so signs of it being traced?” Steve asked, a charming smile on his face.

“No.”

Principal Kim sighed. “Be that as that may, Mr Harrington, we’re going to need proof.”

“Why is burden of proof on Edie’s side?” Steve asked, giving her his big puppy-eyed, ‘I don’t understand’ face. “Shouldn’t it be on her accuser’s?”

Silence fell and Steve knew he had won. They couldn’t prove she traced. There was no evidence of something that didn’t happen.

Now it was time for the final blow. God he loved this part. He got out a large color art book of Vincent Van Gogh’s works. He flipped it over to the page that had the image of the painting Edie had used. He then pulled out a pocket knife and set on top of the page.

“One last thing,” Steve said. “Is the pinprick method allowed in the art show?”

Mr Pearson nodded.

He grinned and turned back to the principal. “This is the book Edie used to base her work on. If you’ll use the knife to cut out the page and hold it up to the light you will pinpricks and not trace marks.”

“That could be any book bought at any time!” Mr Pearson protested.

Steve nodded and got a couple more things out of his bag and handed them to the Principal Kim. “I have the original pictures on my phone, but they are too small to see the details.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.

She looked at the pictures showing the book that had a scuff on the cover and that the book in front of her had a large scuff right where Edie had dropped getting out the car the day he bought it for her.

There was no doubt it was the same book. She handed the pictures to Mr Pearson who was forced to concede that it must be the same book. She picked up the knife and then looked at Steve.

“And your daughter is okay with us defacing the book like this?” she asked, eyeing Steve skeptically.

Steve nodded. “She said to use whatever means necessary to clear her name. So go for it.”

Principal Kim sighed and deftly cut out the page. She handed the knife back to Steve and then lifted the page. Sure enough there were seven or eight pinpricks but not a single trace outline. If she had traced it there would be heavy indentations around each flower and there weren’t.

“Now,” Steve said leaning forward, “put Edie’s picture over the top to see if the prick holes match.”

Principal Kim did just that and sighed when they lined up perfectly. There was no doubt that Edie hadn’t cheated.

“Edith’s picture will be submitted to the art show and the mark expunged from her record. Mr Pearson will apologize to your daughter in front of the class.”

“What?” Mr Pearson cried, leaping to his feet. “I will do no such thing!”

“You will and I will be watching when you do,” Principal Kim said sternly, “or I will suspend you without pay until a full investigation is done to see if you have done this to other students.”

Mr Pearson’s jaw dropped and he sat back down quietly, hands on his lap.

Steve stood. “You may keep everything but my phone, if you need to convince the judges of the art show of the validity of her work.”

She nodded. They shook hands and then Steve gathered his things and walked out. Before he could even close the door, he could hear the principal tearing into Mr Pearson.

Steve was grinning and not paying attention to where he was going when he nearly bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

“Steve?” Eddie asked. “What are you doing here?”

Steve looked up into those warm brown eyes and smiled. “Just convincing Principal Kim and Mr Pearson to let Edie’s pastel drawing back into the art show.”

Harri peered around his dad. “What? Really? Did you win?”

Steve grinned. “Sure did. If they had done an investigation instead of blinding following the word of one vindictive little girl, Mr Pearson wouldn’t be under scrutiny for doing similar things to other students.”

He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his back foot. “I’m pretty sure if they looked deep enough, they’d find that he had been grading harsher for so called nepo babies. Children of rich parents that had generational wealth over those students that had nouveau-riche parents. Because he thought they had worked hard for their money.”

Eddie laughed. “And how would you know that?”

Steve grinned. “Because that’s what Nancy dug up for me when I asked.”

Eddie threw back his head and really laughed. “That would do it, yeah.”

Harri cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Who’s Nancy?”

Steve turned him with a soft smile. “She’s a world renowned journalist who your dad and me went to school with.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” he said with a shrug. “But that’s cool she helped you get Miss Thing’s art back in the show.”

“I called in a favor,” Steve said with a shrug.

“She owes you more than one favor,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve bit his lip and blushed. “She knows.”

Eddie grinned. “Good.”

“You guys want to come over and celebrate with us?” Steve asked. “The Lawrences are going to be there, as well as the Grants.” At their look of confusion he clarified. “Kenny’s family, the band’s keyboardist.”

Harri and Eddie looked at each other and then Harri nodded, while Eddie shrugged.

“Sure,” Eddie said. “I don’t see why not.”

*

Edie had gotten use to seeing Mr Munson at her house so often that sometimes it surprised her that Harri and him didn’t live there. That they actually lived elsewhere.

“Are you sure they aren’t dating?” Kenny asked one day at lunch. They were huddled together at their table away from the seething wrath of Lauren Duncan and her crowd of mean girls.

When it came out that Lauren was the tattletale the whole art class turned on her. And straight up ignored her when she would even so much as ask for the eraser to be handed to her.

But that ostracizing only made her vicious out of class. Bumping into Edie to get Edie to drop her stuff or even fall. Putting hate mail in her lockers. Whispering to her friends behind her hands.

Though she tried knocking Edie’s lunch tray out her hands only the once. Edie was quick enough to shove the tray right in Lauren’s face. And what made it even better is that she couldn’t claim that Edie had done in purpose because then she would have to explain why she was that close to Edie in the first place. And after her week suspension for falsely accusing Edie of wrongdoing, she couldn’t afford more trouble. So she stuck to the little things.

Harri sighed. “I honestly don’t know, man.”

Edie nodded. “They go out to lunch every Monday. And it’s gotten to the point where Vanessa, my dad’s secretary won’t even schedule anything for that time.”

Harri nodded. “I think we eat dinner more often at your house then we do my own. And I like my house!”

Mandy nodded. “I mean our dads still hang out, but now Mr Munson tags along too. My dad said that he’s seen more of Mr Munson in the last month then he has the last decade.”

They all nodded.

“Let’s not forget Mr Munson staying for practice instead of dropping Harri off and coming back later,” Brian said, poking at his food, pushing it around on his plate. “We always have to break them up when we’re done so Harri can go home.”

“When summer starts,” Mandy said, “We should test it, see how it takes for them to notice we’re done.”

They nodded again.

“But when I ask my dad,” Edie said, “all he’ll say is that he’s sworn off dating so it can’t be a date.”

Harri threw his arms in the air. “My dad is no better. He keeps telling me that Papa was it for him, and second chances only happen once in a life time and he’s already had his.”

“They are so stubborn, I swear,” Edie huffed. “But we all promised that we wouldn’t interfere in their relationship.”

Kenny straightened up. “You guys promised that. I didn’t.” He grinned. “And I think I know just how to do it.” He put on his backpack and grabbed his tray. “I’ll talk to you guys, later.”

***

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

Also, I had something similar happen to me with a different Van Gogh painting Giant Peacock Moth, only I was in middle school and it was just kids being grumpy the French teacher didn’t care. It was just away to teach us about the French artists movement of the 1800s. I still have it somewhere.

Also: Harri isn’t in trouble, he’s going to see the principal and his guidance counselor because some of his credits from his Cali school didn’t transfer.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall

[phantomhunting]

We're Here and We're Queer // Sanders sides modern teen AU

CHAPTER 1 - queer teens have immense crushes on each other and wont fucking CONFESS ALREADY.

<Next chapter coming soon>

CW: implied abuse, and intrulogical being intrulogical (mostly Remus)

Ships: Logan x Remus, Roman x Virgil, Remy x Janus, Emile x Patton

Patton was sitting in his room in front of the mirror, trying to make his light cyan hair look good, but it was too messy. He sighed, the reflection of his soft blue eyes staring at him from the mirror. "I hate this" he whispered. He sighed again and got up, going to his closet and taking out his favorite top, a baby blue vest with a white button-up. He put it on and grabbed his school bag and walked downstairs to get some breakfast.

There wasn't much to eat at home, even though the Mor family (which Patton was part of) had a lot of money. He decided to eat some overly-sugary cereal with lactose free milk (because he's lactose intolerant). When Patton finished eating, he could hear his father walk up the stairs. He quickly washed the dishes he used and placed them neatly on the dish rack. He checked the time, '8:10' was what the clock read. "You're late to school again." his father exclaimed as he entered the room. Patton started breathing heavily, scared of what his father might do. "I-i was just leaving!" He grabbed his bag and ran out the house before his father could do anything. He ran all the way to school, not wanting to be even more late.

- - -

Virgil was sitting in the back of the class with his small dagger shaped fidget, barely listening to the teacher. He was waiting for the break so he could hang out with his friends. He and his older brother, Logan, have recently moved into this city, and a group of students have accepted them in as one of their own. Virgil always doubted if they actually liked them or if it was just because they're new, but at least he'll make the most of it. After two long and boring math classes, it was finally break time. Virgil put all his stuff in his locker and grabbed his food from his bag. He ran to the back of the school, which was where the group always stayed while in there. Roman, Patton, and Remus were already sitting and chatting there. Virgil was hesitant to approach, not wanting to intrude. Then, he suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder. He jumped and let out a squeak, turning around to see... His older brother, Logan!

"Lo.. don't ever do that again" he tried to sound intimidating but he was so much smaller than him. "What did you get?" Logan asked, pointing at Virgil's lunchbox. "Oh- umm, it's just some bread with a piece of cheese on it" Virgil answered. "You know, you need to eat more than that, Virg" Logan's tone seemed harsh, but Virgil knew Logan cared a lot about him. They both walked over to the group, and sat down next to them.

"Virgil! Logan!" Patton called, happy to see his friends. "Hello!" Remus called as well, only happy to see Logan. "Hi..!" Roman whispered quietly to Virgil, blushing slightly. "Hey, Roman.." Virgil responded, hoping his makeup hides his red face. "Ree, is that new?" Virgil asked, pointing at the collar on Remus' neck. "Why won't you ask your brother~?" Remus responded, making a flirty face to Logan. "Ew- you could've just said yes" Virgil wanted to throw up thinking about his brother and Roman's brother having... Adult times. Remus scoffed. "Has anyone seen Barry? We were supposed to study now but he's not responding to my texts." Logan quickly changed the topic. "Probably still asleep, he oversleeps constantly" Remus responded, taking out his bottle (that's full of some blue liquid that seems full of sugar) and taking a sip. Logan is disgusted by the drink, but moves on, "he's usually here by now..." he checks his phone's notifications again. "Ugh, why does it matter? We're having a conversation here now" Remus rolled his eyes.

There was silence for a few seconds, only the sounds of Patton's chocolate chip cookies in his mouth were heard. "Wassup nerds" Janus sat next to his younger brother, Patton, and placed his bag of oatmeal cookies besides him. "Good morning, Jan" Remus smiled. Virgil and Roman rolled their eyes, they both disliked Janus a bit too much. Janus flashed a sarcastic smile back at them both, raising the tension.

"hey, Remus, may i speak to you in private?" Logan asked, cutting the tension. "Ooo~" Remus smirked. "About a serious topic. Now." Logan hurried. "Alright alright" Remus got up, and Logan followed. They both walked inside the building, they were out of sight in a moment. "Well.... Uh, Roman, did you see the vid i sent you?" Virgil asked, attempting to start a conversation without Patton or Janus. "I did! Wait- we're talking about the dnd one, right?" Roman hurried to clarify, and Virgil nodded, "yeah so i did watch it, it seemed really interesting! I'd love to do a game with you some day" Roman blushed. Virgil smiled awkwardly, wanting to show Roman his years of campaign planning just for him, but he knew it'd seem weird. "Hey, lovebirds, there are more people sitting with you" Janus exclaimed, signaling at himself and his brother. Roman and Virgil both burst into denying chatter, while Patton giggled to himself. They all spent the rest of the break talking about some math teacher that got pregnant from a different teacher. Remus and Logan didn't come back.

- - -

At the end of the school day, as Patton walked out, he saw two cute boys talking right outside the school's gate. He took a deep breath and approached them. "H-hey! My name is Patton, and I think you look really cool, wanna be friends?" He asked, seeming as innocent as a baby. The taller one chuckled, "sure. Im Remy, this is my twin brother, Emile" he smiled, and took a sip out of his coffee. Emile smiled a bit, already knowing he's got feelings for Patton, he always saw him around, hanging with hus classmate, Virgil, and he always seemed so sweet and caring. It was obvious he liked puns, just perfect for him. "He's awkward" Remy whispered to Patton, and preceded to be slapped by Emile. Patt giggled, but in a friendly way rather than a bullying way. Thats when Janus whispered into Patton's ear, "we need to get home, bitch" and laughed.

"LANGUAGE!!" Patton shouted. Janus just kept laughing. "Sorry, uh, this is my brother, Janus" he explained to his new friends. "Is Janus your actual name?" Emile asked, his sweet honey colored eyes glowing with curiosity. "Nope, its Julia. But i really hate that name, so i changed it. Too feminine" Janus explained, grabbing Patton's hand, "now, me and my beloved brother need to head home. See ya!" he dragged him off to the bus stop.

- - -

"he was amazing!!" Emile called, flapping his hands. "His brother was hotter." Remy replied, sipping his coffee like the bad bitch that he is. "Sometimes i really dont get how you're my twin brother and not some distant uncle of an uncle" Em joked. "What can i say, I'm the Picani with the most personality" Remy flipped imaginary hair (his hair is too short). "Pfft, yeah, right. You dont even know what you're gonna do next week, i already know what im learning in college." Emile joked as they both started walking home.

[chaikachi]

ok ok - so you've mentioned Oscar's absence is just starkly obvious in Ever After. How so? Or more specific, how much different do you think things would have been if he was there? Especially in light of....... that recent event.

Thank you so much for your patience @skynapple! I knew this would be a long answer so it took me a bit to gather everything.

I think I've mentioned it in different ways across a few posts by now, but I'll try and summarize it all here!!

How Oscar's Absence Has Been Emphasized Throughout V9 (Specifically Through Ruby's Attachment to Him)

The first thing that clues us into this is actually how v8 is set up. When the teams are split, they're split by pairings. Or at the very least, foils (I will be referring to ship names just for conveniences sake).

Yang vs. Blake Ren vs. Nora Jaune vs. Weiss Oscar vs. Ruby

And we have multiple examples of who is supposed to foil who by the orders they're standing in the opening specifically. Which, as we all know, is full of symbolism and foreshadowing for the volume as a whole.

Example 1: We have the Bees at the center followed by Renora, Whiteknight, and Rosegarden left to right on either side of them.

Example 2: We have Ruby and Yang set as foils here with where they're positioned in proximity to the camera as the 'leaders' of each group. But if you look at them in a lineup order again from the outside in, it starts with Renora followed by RG, then WK and BB are flipped.

Example 3: Technically these are the first shots focused on division in the entire opening... and it's literally who mirrors who. Bees at the far left and right. Renora the next ones in. Then Whiteknight. And Rosegarden again.

Beyond the symbolism in the opening, this is reinforced by what happens over the course of the volume.

The divide that starts in the first episode is brought on by a disagreement between Ruby and Yang... but where Ruby worries about Yang, Yang worries more about Blake than her sister.

Yang: Do you... think she thinks less of me? For not helping out with Amity? (she asks while looking at a piece of purple machinery) Jaune: Ruby is your sister, she's always going to love you. Even if you disagree with each other. Yang: Yeah... Ruby...

And Blake, by extension, is worrying about Yang.

Ruby: I hope everyone is doing alright...* Blake: If you're worried about Yang, you could always try calling her? *flashback to when Ruby said "I'm just glad you're alright." when she found Oscar in the crater only to be separated from him again.

Ren and Nora's arcs and clash of ideals are clearly in focus as well, especially after their 'confession' in Risk.

Nora: I don't actually know who I am... without Ren... - Nora: When my mom ran from the grimm and left me behind... you found me. We became "Ren and Nora". But I realized on this mission apart... I don't know who just "Nora" is.

Jaune and Weiss is more subtle because they don't have as much character focus that volume, but they are the last two people left standing after Cinder's attack and were the only two present when Penny died. We instead see how that relationship is focused on throughout v9 in light of that shared experience.

That focus is exactly what happens with Ruby and Oscar's relationship as well, not just in spite of Oscar's absence, but because of it.

All the pairings I just mentioned? They all finished Volume 8 'reunited'. Or I guess a better description would be 'in the same place'.

Yang and Blake in the Ever After. Jaune and Weiss too. Ren and Nora back in Vacuo.

But Ruby and Oscar? They were the only two established foils that were split up in v8 that didn't get an actual reunion. And that's shown plain and clear in Ultimatum where we see everyone come back together only for RG's hug to be focused on and then interrupted. Foreshadowing to say they weren't quite there yet and to build up to a bigger reunion later on.

Part of the reason why I say his absence is so strongly felt is because RG is a ship built on absences. I am once again going to talk about other volumes first, I PROMISE i will get to v9 in a second, please bare with me ahaha.

In the v5 finale, we have focus on Oscar's reaction over everyone else when Ruby is knocked out of commission.

In v6, we have focus on Ruby when Oscar disappears and a focus on the two of them again when he returns in the following episode. (Not pictured in this gif is Ruby's eyes shaking in fear when she's told Oscar is missing, Ruby gasping when he opens the door, Ruby laughing when they tackle him to the floor, and Ruby helping him up afterwards).

In v7, it's established from episode 2 that they're having conflict which is elaborated on further in the following episode and further still by them being apart and in disagreement for the following few episodes. Until they both come to trust each other again during The Fumble in episode 9.

And I already spoke about the divide in v8.

But then v9? Where literally the first thing Ruby sees at the beginning of the volume is an illusion of Oscar? Not Yang first. Not Penny first. But Oscar?? And that illusion is one of him beaten and covered in bruises to really hurt Ruby more?

The scene where Neo flips between those people establishes three things that all get explored throughout the rest of the season.

Ruby's grief over Penny

Ruby's conflict and connection with her sister

Ruby's attachment to Oscar

The focus on her grief with Penny ties back into the Dojo Scene in volume 5. Where Oscar was the first and only person she actually talked to about that grief.

Ruby: When Beacon fell, I lost two of my friends. Penny Polendina and Pyrrha Nikos.

The focus on her connection to Yang in this volume, one where her sister finally enters a relationship with Blake, leaves Ruby feeling left behind by one of the few people she thought she had left. Even if it is irrational and not an actual loss, that distance feels stronger to Ruby here because she's already grieving so many other losses she hasn't processed yet.

I've gone over the above scene before, but part of what clues us into her thinking of Oscar, or at least the emphasis on his absence, is the symbolism used. Throughout the volumes, Oscar has been associated very strongly with sunlight, fire, and warmth that drives away the cold of Ruby's grief. This is most specifically and consistently shown with him being framed by lamps and lanterns.

So when she is placed in a room with her team, furthest from the fire (warmth), next to a lantern, across from an empty chair with a green/teal cloth on it? It's pretty easy to assume who she's thinking about. Weiss could have sat there. Or Jaune. But neither did. Because they wanted us to see how alone Ruby felt.

And then the focus on her attachment to Oscar with his death being the last illusion Neo uses against her. The illusion that breaks her to the point of reaching for the tea the first time and would have been the final straw had the Curious Cat not interrupted them.

Not only does this volume highlight what Oscar's absence in the Ever After does to Ruby... It also focuses on what the meaning of losing him in general would do to her. Because Oscar, above all else, is a symbol of exactly what motivates her to keep fighting.

In her letter in v4, she starts to tell Yang that they have to keep fighting for the people they've already lost... but then she hesitates. Crosses it out. Corrects that who they actually need to fight for is the people they haven't lost yet.

And Neo's personally tailored torture chamber starts by haunting Ruby with the memory of all those she has lost, or those whose deaths she feels responsible for...

...only to deal the finishing blow by telling her that if she keeps down the path she's headed, she will lose those she still has left. And she drives that point home with Oscar. Once again, not her sister Yang, not her friend Penny, not her team partner Weiss, not her Uncle Qrow, or any of their other friends.

Neo. Uses. Oscar.

Because he is who Ruby is closest to. And his loss is the one that would hit her the hardest.

As for the second portion of your question (I promise this section will be shorter) of how the volume might have been different had Oscar been around it's... really hard to say.

I truly believe his absence made this volume possible given how they structured it, and I really don't think it would have worked in the ways they needed it to had he been there.

That being said, I am down to speculate.

Oscar's always been very tuned into how Ruby is feeling or noticing when she's struggling and jumping to help when he can. There's a possibility he would have tried to do so had he been there. He may have had an approach like "No, enough of the moving forward nonsense, you are not okay and we are going to address that before we keep going". If he had and it had worked, then much of the conflict of that volume just wouldn't have happened, would have been postponed, or would have been resolved without Ruby ascending, which she needed to do in order to move the plot forward.

At the very least, Oscar would have snapped at both Weiss and Jaune for talking to Ruby the ways they had been before that boiled over. But I don't know that he would have actually been able to help with what little time they had... as well as some other factors.

Ruby was at a very low point, Yang was trying to get her to open up and Ruby wouldn't. Weiss and Blake also tried to offer support or reassurances but fell short.

One of the interactions with WBY that happens after Ruby snaps and storms off clues us into this:

Yang: Dammit! How could she just run off like that? Blake: She was clearly upset. Yang: That wasn't upset, that was... UGH! She could have just talked to us. Weiss: Maybe she didn't feel like she could.

I feel like this is a double edged sword. On one hand, with Oscar's absence being focused on, it implies that maybe Ruby didn't feel like she could talk to her team... but she might have been able to talk to Oscar because we know she felt safe enough to do that before. Both the dojo scene, and the fumble are great examples of this.

But there reaches a certain point for everyone struggling with mental health where community support doesn't cut it. Ruby may have been at too low of a point to even talk to him of all people. And Oscar trying to force her to open up when she didn't have it in her could have very well done more harm than good.

One other thing that's said in the volume after Ruby has begun ascending is this:

Weiss: We've done everything we can. Now it's up to Ruby.

I think Weiss of all people did more harm to Ruby's mental state than any good, but I digress.

The point of this line is that friends and family can offer support as best they can, but sometimes you have to fight your own battles. This was a journey Ruby had to do alone. Which as a side note, is a very nice parallel to Nora's current arc.

I think with enough time and support, that maybe Ruby would have been able to avoid locking it all away until she burst... But stories are driven by conflict and their subsequent resolution. Ruby's breakdown needed to happen one way or another and was a long time coming.

And I think they way they used Oscar - and specifically, his absence - to contribute to that breaking point was executed brilliantly.

Even if it hurt like hell 😭

[acourtofbooksandshadows]

Alliance Maker - Chapter 8

Summary: You expel some of your power and Lucien starts to grow suspicious.

Pairing: Slow burn!Azriel x Afab!Reader

Warnings:Blood, anxiety, Hybern, fire, passing out, swearing and yea.

Word count:1645

Masterlist Series Masterlist

The next morning was easy. Nesta came to wake you up for training and you explained to her you needed to sleep as much as possible before releasing so much energy later. She was going to argue with you but Cassian had shook his head at her from his spot next to her in the hall. Then they slipped away to the rooftop for training. The house gave you breakfast and lunch when you woke up to use the bathroom. You only awoke two more times due to nightmares, which was a miracle. Each time you did the cooling touch of the shadows soothed you back to sleep. 

Before you knew it you were standing in a large field, the grass was soft, flowers of all colors sporadically sprouted across the ground. The trees stood tall in various shades of green seemingly caging in the field. The sky above you was a perfect shade of blue, clouds sparsely present. Then there was the Fae you were with. Nesta and Cassian stood together, not too far from you. Feyre and Rhysand stood farther away, deep in a silent discussion. Lucien stood awkwardly beside you and Azriel was leaning against a tree on the edge of the field. 

“So how exactly are you going to disperse this energy?” Cassian piped up as you pulled a piece of carefully wrapped cake from your house provided pack. 

“You’re just going to have to wait and see, lord of impatience.” You shrugged as though it was the simplest thing, taking a large bite of the cake. A groan rumbling in your chest as the flavor of it coated your tongue. 

“Where’d you even get that?” Cassian asked and you could sense a bit of jealousy in his words. Nesta rolled her eyes at him and Lucien held back a snort. 

“The House gave it to me before we left.” You broke the piece in half and handed the rest to Lucien who curled up one eyebrow before shrugging and grabbing the cake and taking a bite. 

“You’ll need the bit of sugar rush for your help that I’m going to need.” He nodded his head in reply, then you both took another bite of the cake. You burned the wrapper in your hand after finishing the cake, the ashes falling to the ground as you turned your palm over and shook your hand off. 

“Let’s get started.” Rhysand said as he and Feyre walked towards you. That’s when all of the nerves set in. You had dispersed your energy countless times but had never done it in front of such a big crowd. The process was normally so robotic but you didn’t have your normal accomplice with you this time. You nodded your head before dancing your fingers in the air, then much to everyone's surprise two hounds made of flame tore through the grass. They yipped and played with one another before bounding towards you and licking your hands. The shadows wrapped around your skin danced excitedly as they watched the hounds. 

“I’ve missed you both as well. I won’t wait this long again, I promise.” You knelt down in front of them, petting them both gingerly. You missed the look of pure shock on Lucien's face as you gave both the hounds a kiss before they went back to playing. Not a burn mark was in sight in their wake, but the fire coming from them waved in the air as they ran. Some of Azriel’s shadows had slipped away from the shadowsinger and chased them through the grass. 

“I decided to start small, meet Brok and Zas.” You told the group as you stood up from the ground watching the two playing with a look of adoration and love in your eyes. 

“Do you need us to do anything?” Feyre’s calm voice spoke up from her position beside Rhysand. Everyone stood a little straighter ready to help if needed.

“Do any of you have the gift of water or ice?” You asked them hopefully, eyes scanning them quickly, Feyre perked up at the question.

“I have both.” You gave her a beaming smile and opened up the pack and took out a blanket. The material was dense, a spell that had been weaved into the object made it fireproof. 

“I will need Lucien to form a barrier of fire around me. Once I drop I will need you to immediately douse me in the coldest water you can make.” Your eyes didn’t leave hers as you spoke. Anxiety caused the next instruction to leave your mouth awkwardly. 

“I will end up passing out and my skin will still be too hot to touch. I will need someone to take me back to the house of wind. Since Lucien is staying there it’ll be more convenient for him to take me.” Your eyes then flicked over to his waiting form. The anxiety of having a male touch you started to eat away at your chest but you took a deep breath centering yourself. It had been a while since you had trusted a male enough to touch you but you knew you could trust Lucien. 

“You will be the only one from the house of wind that will be able to lay a hand on me. I am putting my full trust in you to get me back safely.” He could see the hesitation in your eyes but he did not back down. He gave you a look that looked so familiar, a feeling of home settled within your chest and you gave him a small smile. 

“I will be asleep for the rest of the night and all day tomorrow. Could you and Feyre wrap this around me carefully before he carries me?” Your eyes moved to Nesta as you spoke, wanting to reassure her you’d be okay. Not wanting her to worry when you knew she would. She held her hand out for the blanket. Her eyes that had pinned Lucien to his spot in a silent threat met your own. They were cold, but you knew she was worried with the way she took in your form once and then twice. 

“Can everyone please back up?” They did as you asked. You looked at your hounds rolling around in the grass, before looking over where Azriel was still propped against his tree, he was just a little straighter than he was before. You felt a cool reassuring touch on the back of your neck. Then you scanned the group quickly, the anxiety finally bubbling over. You had to beg the shadows that had been attached to you to return to their master. 

“Lucien?” That’s all you had to say and a barrier of fire was wrapped around you. A large dome like structure that you were praying to the mother wouldn’t waver. Your wings disappeared as your fingers flexed. You rolled your head back and then forwards, shaking out your arms once. Your skin became rapidly hot. With one shaky breath you exploded.

Fire hit the barrier in aggressive waves. You could feel that thing inside you once again trying to claw its way out. Every fiber of your body felt like it was being torn apart and put back together. But you wouldn’t let it. Wouldn’t let yourself lose control in front of these Fae that you barely knew. 

Minutes that felt like days passed and you dropped to your knees. Your head thrown back between your shoulders, eyes looking up at the sky through the combined fire of yours and Luciens. Had someone been inside the ball of fire with you they would have noticed that your eyes were changing. They were the perfect match to the fire coming from your body.

A scream erupted from your chest as you flung your arms out to your sides. You weren’t able to see the reactions of those around you. The way that Nesta held onto Cassian's arm tightly. The way that Cassian's siphons started to flare a protective shield coming up around him and his mate. The way that Rhysand looked at you with pure and utter surprise. Yet he was ready to take you down if things got out of hand. Feyre stood ready for the task you had given her. 

Then there was Azriel, whose shadows yanked him towards the group. They were whipping across the grass frantically. Desperately trying to reach you through the shield Lucien was maintaining steadily. The Illyrian however sat there frightened yet intrigued. Your hounds whined as they looked upon you, but they sat at the edges of Cassian's shield patiently. They knew that once your power drained they would disappear for a while. Going back to the in between until being brought back out. 

Memories of your life flashed through your head rapidly. The childhood you were lucky enough to escape. The love of your father that helped to heal you. Then there were the memories of your time within the walls of Hybern. The fear soared through you causing another scream to rip from your throat, your hands growing taught as fire continued to rapidly escape you. Getting dumped into the cauldron was the next memory. The gentle caress it gave you forever seared into your brain. 

You let that slowly ease you. You could feel the last bit of energy starting to leave the chest of power inside of you. Your body shaking as your limbs grew heavier. Lungs rapidly trying to take in air. Blood poured from your eyes, nose and fingertips. A pounding sensation smacked through your head. Black dots started to pop up in your vision. Your throat burned as you let out a roar, fire scratching up your throat and releasing from your mouth and then you collapsed. The lid to the chest that was normally sealed tightly slammed shut.

Brok and Zas:

A/N:Not much Az but there will be in the next chapter! As always likes, comments, follows and reblogs are much appreciated.

Tags(open): @wolfsbane44 @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @kmc1989 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @luvmoo

[tonys-fav-bitch]

Plot Twist || Reader x Moonboys

Moon Knight AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

Word Count: Around 1k

Summary: in which your boss sends you to keep an eye on a possible avengers recruit. You’re tasked with following him, figuring out who he is, and if he’s good enough for the team. That’s it. But it’s never that simple.

Warnings: None (I don’t think?) it’s really just a story full of fluff. One swear!

YOU WALKED through the huge doors of the Avengers headquarters, a few of your teammates all lounging around on the beautiful day. You rolled your eyes at the group before clapping your hands together - startling one or two of them.

"Chop chop team, we have a briefing!" You exclaimed as you passed by Peter Parker who was sprawled out on a couch, launching pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

You reached down and stopped a piece as it flew through the air, snatching the food and popping it into your mouth. The kid gave a look of bewilderment as he sat up to face you.

"Hey! That was mine!" He frowned.

"Too bad kid, we got stuff to discuss." You laughed and pulled him up and gently pushed him towards the meeting doors.

The rest of the group slowly trailed after you, grumbling about the interruption. They all entered the large room made of glass walls, giving them a beautiful view of the woods that ran along the building. Each one took a seat, Peter doing it dramatically.

"I thought we had the day off?" Sam scowled as he draped himself on the table, a frown on his face.

"So did I, but then I got a call from Fury. . and here we are." You stated with a shrug and took a seat next to Peter who leaned over and flicked your ear.

You scowled at the boy and flicked him back, steeling another piece of popcorn that was in his hands. He let out a silent cry as he watched his snack disappear into your mouth. He began pelting you with the food out of desperation to get back at you. You grinned and caught a few in your mouth as the rest bounced off your body and fell to the floor.

"Are you two done?" Fury's voice brought the two out of their fight, you still grinning and Peter wide eyed.

"Uh - yea, sorry sir. She just -" Nick cut him off.

"Im sure she started it."

"Whoa, hey! Thats rude." You huffed to your boss, who gave you a look.

The man grabbed a large folder and flipped it open, tossing a small packet to each of the members sat at the table. You frowned, as you were the only person to not receive one. You leaned over Peter's shoulder and tried to read the file, only for him to hide it from your view, a grin on his face.

"I can't stand you." You muttered before falling back in your chair.

"I love you too." He replied as he skimmed the front of the packet.

"What about me? I didn't get one, so can I leave?" You raised an eyebrow at your boss, who was digging through his bag.

"You're not that lucky." He muttered.

"Ha!" Sam pointed at you as you gave him a scowl.

"Real mature." You huffed.

Sam grinned at you and flipped through the pages. You glanced to the others who were lost in the information Nick had given them. Bucky, Thor, and Clint didn't even react to their antics anymore, simply tuned it out.

"Here you go. This is your mission. They just needed filled in." Fury told you as he tossed a different file to you, it sliding across the smooth marble table.

You opened the folder while giving the man a suspicious look. You quickly read the words on the front 'Marc Spector - Steven Grant.' Below the name was a date of birth, location, and other valuable details about a person.

"Who's this?" You raised an eyebrow.

You gently picked up a picture of a man, who you assumed was the named person above - or one of them at least. You immediately noticed how handsome he was, his sharp features and his dark wavy hair. You bit at your lip as you studied him before Fury responded.

"This is Marc Spector. Some know him as Moon Knight."

"Moon Knight?" Bucky asked with confusion.

"I told you, man. Everybody's got a gimmick now." Sam shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. You chuckled at his words.

"Okay. . and what about this Moon dude?" You asked as you set the picture down, meeting Fury's gaze.

"He could be. . valuable. But we don't know the whole situation. He has an alias Steven Grant and possibly another. I want you to find out what he's about and what's going on." He told you bluntly.

"You want to see if he's Avenger's material, don't you?" You realized.

He simply shrugged and waved his hand, dismissing the group. As Peter stood to leave, he attempted to peak at your file - only for a hand to push his face away. He stumbled back and gave a half smile and frown to you.

"Beat it Spiderling." You scolded him, earning a glare from the name.

"Not cool." He huffed as he walked out of the room, about to shut the door behind him. Fury cleared his throat, making the kid stop.

"Pick up the damn popcorn later."

"Yes, sir." Peter replied in defeat before leaving.

You chuckled to yourself and got to your feet, grabbing the file from the table. You approached your boss, who was still at the head of the table, flipping through pages of information.

"So. . when do I leave?"

"As soon as possible."

☽ ♞ ☾

You sighed as you wandered around your room, trying to decide on what to pack. You were much too indecisive for this. Without hesitation, you tossed the piece of clothing you had in your hand to the floor and collapsed back onto the bed. You stared up at the ceiling and let out a sigh as you thought to the mission you were being sent on.

Recruiting an Avenger.

That was what Natasha use to do, but now it was up to you. You were pulled from your thoughts as another body laid next to yours. You turned your head to see Peter, now also staring up at the ceiling. A frown was plastered on his face.

"Why the sad look, kid?" You broke the silence.

"How long will you be gone?" He replied with a question of his own.

You sensed a hint of sadness in his voice and you turned your body to look at him. He glanced at you, his jaw tightened. You held your hand out for the kid, who gently wrapped his fingers around yours - still not speaking.

"Are you upset I'm leaving, Peter Parker?" You questioned him.

"Of course I am! You're my best friend. It's gonna be lonely here without you." He frowned.

"Wow, somewhere out there Ned's heart is breaking." You teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Shut up. You both are my best friends." He scrunched his nose at you, a shadow of a smile on his lips.

"I'll miss you too, Spiderboy. But you can always text and call me." You assured the boy as he sat up.

He followed your actions and sat up, playing with the zipper on his jacket. He thought for a moment before responding.

"Where are you gonna be going, again?"

"London."

[inkofamethyst]

September 8, 2024

It's been a minute.

In brief: first week was good; finished my hair in three days and it's alright; worked deep into nights to finish the costume; ren faire was amazing!

First Week: I'm getting the feeling that I will have a decent amount of downtime to dedicate to my research and improving my lab skills this semester compared to last year. I was stressed about several things, but they turned out alright in the end. One thing was the primate class I'm taking. I don't have much primate behavioral background, but this class seems like it will mostly just be reading and discussion, so a super super chill seminar (no papers or exams, either!!). I was also worried about the new responsibilities that are lumped onto second years, but they seem manageable, especially with such a "large" cohort.

Hair: they're essentially mini twists with extensions, so I generally like the look of them, but I think the extension quality is lacking. It did take me two additional evenings to finish, but they should be good for at least another two or three weeks. Next time, I may try marley hair.

Costume: I was in the library makerspace for five hours last week to do the main machine-sewing bits. It would've been six but a friend had a last-minute birthday gathering which I forfeited my makerspace reservation to attend (I don't regret that choice, though!). While I couldn't finish everything exactly as I'd hoped to (the bottom hems on the chemise are raw (but I cut/tore them straight across so I wasn't too worried), not enough time to add the ruffle to the chemise (and I wasted like an hour at the machine prepping it before realizing that I still needed to work on the bodice), no "boning" in the bodice (which ultimately was probably for the best, as the canvas interlining was HEFTY (potentially too hefty considering the event lol)), ran out of lining fabric for the bodice so the back pieces are unlined (I was using scrap to begin with, and I'll likely go in and use scraps from the chemise just to cover those back seams)), it still managed to look REALLY COOL. I am SO PROUD of what I managed to accomplish in just a week. GAH I felt so pretty. Even despite all the incomplete bits and things I would change. Every time I looked into a mirror yesterday I would just beam at myself because I felt so good!!! I managed to complete all of my goals (chemise, bodice/corset, skirt hike) to a passable degree, and it brings me so much joy to think about. I did that!!!

Ren Faire: The faire was so good. Plenty of activities, plenty of shops, plenty to see, plenty to eat. My dnd group plus my turquoise-friend were all there for a birthday celebration, and it was a grand time. I got to try archery, I failed to eat a turkey leg by myself, I yelled my throat raw cheering for my assigned (and particularly bloodthirsty) old man knight during the jousts, I tried (and loved) raspberry mead. While my turquoise-friend and I hunted for elf ears that'd match out skin tone, we couldn't find any and instead each bought some gorgeous filigree elven ear cuffs. I adore mine and want to wear them everywhere omg. It was all-around just so great, and I totally want to go back next year.

As I was roaming the faire, it became clear that my outfit wasn't really anything special at a glance. Bodice, chemise, skirt, belt. While, yes, that was my goal, I did take some time to reflect on whether hours of designing, drafting, basting, machine sewing, and hand sewing were worth it to look almost exactly like every other bar maiden/tavern wench who bought a costume from amazon or spirit halloween. I think the answer is that it was worth it, even if the costume wouldn't pass a true seamstress' close inspection. There are absolutely elements to mine that are unlikely to be found in mass-produced versions, even ones that "look cooler". Certain seam finishes, the amount of fabric used (esp in the skirt omg), specific time-intensive design elements, even if they look simple (the sleeves are based on Jester's and are my favorite part of the whole outfit). Plus, I have something I made! That I'm proud of! That I enjoy wearing! The design process was fun, far more fun than scrolling through etsy or something. So, yeah, it's not about the complements. It's way more about the feeling I get while wearing it and how that impacts my faire experience.

For next year, I'm going to try to add elements to the outfit that give it more character, sort of like environmental storytelling, but with accessories on the body.. Will I be a tavern wench who moonlights as a royal assassin? Will I be an herbalist's apprentice who works at an apothecary and is hoping to finally brew a love potion, or perhaps a budding necromancer longing to bring their loved one back? A floral fairy who's been transformed to human size, or a bloodthirsty berserker queen? (The Renaissance Faire maybe isn't the best place to try out these ideas, as it's heavier on the historical side of historical fantasy, but maybe what I need is a larp that's heavier on the fantasy side.)

Today I'm thankful that last week was a good week! I'm thankful that my classes seem okay and that I managed to finish my costume (mostly) and that I had a lot of fun at the faire! I'm also thankful my turquoise-friend was with me at the faire. This will absolutely be a fantastic grad school memory.

Also special shoutout to the nyx eye pencil in icy blue (or something like that). I went low makeup yesterday but randomly picked that up the day before to help my eyes match the blue elements in the costume, and it stayed on all day. Impressive for a budget item.

[rhymey-workshop]

Feel free to skip. TW: I'm joining the military.

Growing up is really hard, and I don't think we realize that until we're on the verge of a big change, standing on the border between two parts of your life, balancing on a precipice before you take the swan dive known to many as change.

I'm packing my things. My dad finally brought home boxes and storage tubs and I'm finally packing my things, and that makes the passage of time so much more real.

I'm packing my things. My mom opened the door to tell me to watch my sleeping brother, and said nothing about the fact my room is a mess, or that I was just staring blankly at the cardboard box I just taped the bottom of. That box is ready for my craft books and paint stuff, my origami paper, my reading stand, my books on how to make stuff like children's books and animation. She made no mention of it all, just made that same pinched expression she has for weeks and then schooled her expression into something more neutral as she nodded towards the bedroom where my brother is and after a moment I got up and stumbled in, sitting at the foot of the bed to type out some kind of vent on Tumblr.

I'm packing my things, and I'm stuck between wanting to cry and finding myself unable to cry. I'm leaving home. I've been dreaming of getting out of here off and on since I was 13. At times I had a countdown of years, months, weeks, days that I had to stay, that I had to wait for the day I could finally leave. It made being angry or sad or any other complicated emotion easier. It made hardship easier to cope with. It made it easier to get through the hard times because I knew I could leave and nothing could stop me.

I'm packing my things, slowly, piece by piece, and I'm starting to understand the weight of what my dad said, when he said I was the first person on either side of my family in generations to not run away from home before turning 18. My mom left home at 17, my dad spent more days out of the house than in it as a teenager and left the god damn country. My bio paternal family has these issues too. My maternal family is full of people that ran off, that stayed away from home and didn't look back. My mom only speaks to one sister, and can't speak to her brother as long as their mother is alive. I didn't leave. I finished high school, I got my diploma, I took my time and I didn't leave before I was a legal adult.

I'm packing my things to leave home, and it's hard. It's scary. I've never been away from home for very long, and here I am, getting ready to do something more than just "Move out".

I'm packing my things, putting my life into boxes, sorting what's going to stay, waiting for me to return, what's getting tossed, what's going to get donated or given away. I keep finding things and remembering shit related to them. I keep finding things and remembering who gave them to me. I keep finding things and remembering which parent smiled when I got it.

I'm packing my things, and in a way I'm also processing a kind of grief I didn't know existed.

I'm leaving home for something I thought through for 8 months, and I'm coming up on the one year anniversary since I made my decision. It's been just under two since I signed the dotted line, swore in, and came home to congratulations and a sureness that I'm doing the right thing for me.

In 5 days, I'm going to my last meeting. Getting a send off from a group of people doing the same thing. A couple of them doing the EXACT same thing.

In 9 days, I'll spend the last full 24 hours I've got with my family, eating a fruit tart and playing putt putt. I'll say good night and that'll be the last time I see them for months at the very least.

In 10 days, I'm hiding my key on the porch and walking out the front door while everyone is asleep. They'll wake up and I'll be hundreds of miles away from them. In 10 days, I'm hopping in a big unmarked government van (and this will never not be funny to me) with like 5 other people and we're all doing the same thing. We're going somewhere and we have no idea what is really waiting for us.

In 11 days, I'm not in civilian limbo anymore. As it stands I am subject to the UCMJ but I'm not a sailor yet. In 11 days, I'm a recruit, and that's fucking dizzying to think about.

I'm getting ready to start a new part of my life and it's going to be exciting and new and I'll make friends and I'll go a couple places and I'll have stories to tell my brother and family. I think I'll be better, when all is said and done.

But right now, I'm packing my things into boxes and tubs, and right now, I want to cry.

[cafecourage]

Pinky Isn't Suffering - 8

All they wanted was to take a walk. Twilight realized that they weren’t in the same Era anymore pretty quickly. If anything, it now looked like his era, which got him excited for a second but also on high alert. Last time they split up in his era they were attacked. He didn’t realize he was sticking closer to Pinky until he heard a twig snapped and he brought her to his side instantly.

An old wolf steps out of the bushes.

“Wolf…ie?” Pinky looked between the wolf and Twilight. The wolf was a carbon copy, just older. Twilight had a shocked look on his face. He couldn’t understand why there was an older looking him.

Well… him as a wolf?

Wolfie sat down and looked at the two of them before almost sighing and de-transformation. Shadows danced and grew into a person standing tall. He was a bit taller than Twilight. Then the shadows dropped and an older man stood there. An older Twi stood there. “Hello there,” he smiles. Both of them were too confused and shocked to actually speak. Older Twilight notices but ignores to explain anything “I was looking for you two.”

“You’re..” Pinky’s brain started to finally work as she was putting the pieces together. “Twilight?”

Older Twi smiles, “yes Darlin’ I’m not sure why this happened but welcome to the future! Come let's go home for a bit.” It’s not like they had a choice not to follow him. Both of them were in an era they know little about. 

Even if it was Twilight’s home, things looked different but the same at the same time. Twilight couldn’t help but study the world around him. Pinky, however, was tense, not knowing what to think of everything. Twilight takes her hands in an attempt to comfort her. She squeezes back. “Where is your home?” He asks.

“Close by,” Older Twilight hums continuing forward. “Where are you two in this adventure? My wife was the one that remembered you guys are coming today.”

Pinky perks up, “your wife?” She sounded almost dejected. Older Twi laughed at hearing that small case of dejection.

He turns to walk backwards a bit, “my dear, you have no reason to fret about what you're about to see.”

“I wasn’t!” Pinky covered her face with her freehand but you could still see her blush.

Older Twilight let out one bark of laughter before turning around. “Right, Right.” He waves Pinky off. “Actually,” Older Twilight passes through the trees. 

“We are here.” In front of the trio was a fairly large horse and goat ranch. It looks very similar to Lon Lon Ranch and there is a part of Pinky that just assumed that's what it was called. As they got closer, they both saw a son and daughter running around on the other side of the fence.

They saw the group and gasped, “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!” The son screamed out as they ran into the house and out the door, down the road and straight into Older Twilight's arms. Following them was a pregnant woman that the two time travelers instantly realized was Pinky.

“Oh wow.” Twilight’s breath hitches as he stares at your older self. Somehow the years were super kind to you. You looked older, yes, but damn did you not look just as gorgeous.

Older Twilight couldn’t help but laugh at his younger reaction. “Pretty, ain’t she?” He smirked at his younger self's reaction. Walking up to Older Pinky, he leans in to give her a kiss.

“Welcome home.” She then gives her two kids both kisses of their own before their father lets them down. Older Pinky turned to the time travelers. “Welcome to the ranch you two!” She moves back inside letting them in. “Please come in.”

The house itself looks newish, probably not younger than 20 years old, but it was well lived in. Photos, books and maps lined the hallways and walls. Items and interesting nick nacks were on display as well.

They were mostly things from Twilight’s adventure but there were some from other Era’s too. “Do you want some tea? We just got Blueberry tea in.”

“Blueberry?” Pinky perked up, “please! It’s been awhile.”

Older Twilight came up besides Twilight leaning to whisper “a favorite.”

This snaps him out of his daze of this whole thing, “uh. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll remember that.”

This got a chuckle out of the other Rancher. “This is the dream, a bit of paradise.” He gestures around the house. “It’s like a piece of heaven huh?”

“You're telling me.” Twilight was almost breathless, “we didn’t even have our first kiss yet and now I’m finding out we are married to each other?” 

Older Pinky froze along with younger Pinky. Older Twilight being the now turned himbo that he is, couldn’t read the room. “Oh you did, it was when you had that mask on-“

“LINK!” Older pinky hissed out. “Why did you-“

This was the breaking point for pinky as she stood up suddenly “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

“Pinky, wait-“ Twilight stopped as the older him put out an arm. “It’s my fault. I got this.” He walks off leaving the two alone.

Honestly he could have prevented this. He knew from his wife that she was stressed out from everything that had happened in the adventure. It was easy to find her behind the furthest shed. Older Twilight shifts to wolf form. A form that he has been frequenting for the children’s joy and amusement. 

But now he is here to make sure Pinky is ok.

Pinky… was not ok. She was crying as things finally were too much for her to handle. It broke his heart, but it didn’t stop him from shoving his head into her lap and getting comfy on top of her. “Wha- Wolfi- wait no- Link. Please.” She was quick to try to dry her eyes.

“Go back, I'm fine…” Older Twilight huffs as he flops his head down. He isn’t leaving. Not now. Not ever. Not when his wife was upset. He wants to comfort the woman that means the world to him. Was that so bad? “I want to go home.” Tears started to fall once more. “I want to see my mom and brother again. I don’t want to leave them without a goodbye.”

A hand reached up and wiped away tears. “You will Darlin.” Pinky looked down to see older Twilight smiling up at her. “We see them every Friday.”

“How?” Pinky asked, still crying. “We live in two different worlds.” She puts a hand on his, “we can’t-“ She couldn’t argue that they couldn’t be together, because it was clear that they could be.

“Pumpkin, listen.” He gets up a bit and kisses her hand. “Everything will be ok. Trust me. All of this?” Older Twilight gestures to the well to do ranch. Briefly, she caught sight of a red and blue mark. “This is all in your- our future. I couldn’t be happier. I hope my wife feels the same.” He laughs awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and there clear as day was the same mark that Pinky had on her wrist. She bites her tongue as the deity’s words appear back in her mind.

They were soulmates.

Pinky looks down at her hands. Thinking about everything that has happened up until this point. If this was the future was that so bad?

She feels confident in the future. “Ok. I will trust you and... I will trust in this future.”

Older Twilight gives her a wolfish smirk, “good now.” He gets up and offers her a hand. “I think my beautiful, amazing, ever so loving wife was preparing some tea?”

Pinky instantly was blushing “I- yes let's go.” She grabs her hand and gets up. There was still some hesitation.

But looking around the ranch makes her feel so much love.

[sweetflanfiction]

The Arena - Part 7

Universe: Alice in Borderland Pairing: Chishiya x reader Disclaimers and Warnings: This is going to have some descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks as well as the general 'alice in borderland' violence. Be warned.

Anything between these // // is a flashback/not real.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // End

• ··········· • ············ •

Ari was sitting on her bed, hair pulled up in a tank top and shorts, the knot of a bathing suit peeking from under her garments. She looked at you.

"Oh did I wake you?"

"What?" You looked around the sunlit room.

"You were sound asleep, I didn't want to wake you." She explained.

"What time is it?" You asked, dragging your body out of bed.

"Humm…10:30 or so. Kaori and Chishiya are already downstairs. Apparently Chishiya has been up since 7."

You reached the duffle bag with your weekend clothes and grabbed them, nodding at whatever Ari was saying. Your mind was still trying to remember bits and pieces of the dream as you softly closed the door to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, your eyes shifted to your neck. Unsurprisingly there was a faded, thin scar on the skin. It ran from the middle of your throat to your jaw. You had some of those scattered around your body, as well as some substantial ones.

Looking at your eyes in the mirror a flash of your own bloody face and neck took you by surprise. You took a step back and blinked, the vision disappearing.

"Hey, smart ass, how good are you at counting cards?" Kaori asked, walking towards the group.

The rest of the group was tucked under a sun umbrella. Ari and you were lying on beach towels watching something on her phone and drinking something sweet and fruity. In the meantime, Chishiya was lying in the shade, with only his legs in the sun, trying to nap, his drink forgotten. 

“Which smart-ass are you trying to call?” You asked without looking up.

“All of you, but mostly Chishiya.” They sat in another sun lounge.

“Chishiya isn’t here at the moment.” The man announced, without moving. “Please try your call again at a later time.”

“Oh come on. Can you or can you not count cards?” They asked again.

All of you heard, more than saw the doctor inhale and exhale, moving to sit on the lounger, pulling the hood of his jacket down. 

“Why?” He asked, his eyes blinking slowly and Kaori shoved something into his hand.

You saw his jaw clench and unclench as he looked at the piece of paper your friend had given him.

“I can, but I’m not.” He said and gave the paper back to Kaori.

“Why not?”

“It’s cheating.” He replied lying back down.

“Oh come on, we all know you’re not above cheating at game night.” Ari added after looking at the pamphlet, passing it over to you.

The small red and black sheet announced ‘Game Night at Seaside Paradise! - Come play and win some great prizes!’. There were four face cards printed under the title and your breath was caught in your throat. Without realizing it, your eyes shifted to Chishiya. He was doing his usual slow blinking, but his shoulders were tensing.

Once again the feeling of being stuck without an escape entered your mind, but looking around there was nothing strange happening. The pool was filled with coworkers and families spending the weekend. The doors inside were widely open and the pathway that led to the coast was open as well. And yet, you felt trapped and that awful burning smell came back. 

“It’ll be fun! You could prove how superior you are to all those old ladies at the bingo table.” Ari laughed. 

“We are giving you free rein on your high horse!” Kaori exclaimed. Suddenly a series of loud popping sounds were heard, and the music stopped. Both you and Chishiya got up from your places faster than the speed of light. Both of you looked around, both alert. You could feel your heart in your throat and your breathing was labored. You saw Chishiya’s breath deepen as well. 

You looked at him and he looked at you. The resounding sound of a gun firing and people screaming echoed in your heads. He frowned for a second and then shook his head at you. 

"Sorry guys!!" A loud cheerful voice over the loud was heard." Seems like the DJ was having too much fun!!"

Some laughs and cheers could be heard around the pool as the music resumed. But neither of you seemed to relax.

"Huh…guys?" Kaori questioned, their teasing tone turning serious. "It's cool. The guy in the DJ booth knocked over the mic."

Taking a deep breath, you turned your gaze from the man to your other friends. They were looking up at both of you, their faces laced with concern. "Sorry." You apologized as you moved to sit down again, paying attention as you noticed Chishiya's lounge chair had knocked over the drinks. "Oh! I'm gonna run and get us more of these."

Before any of them could say anything you grabbed the three spilled glasses and briskly walked towards the bar, trying to shake the fear that zipped through your spine. After the dream, something had changed in you. You didn’t remember much of it, but this feeling of fearlessness had started to fight the anxiety and apprehension that were gripping you tight. And although you had managed not to cower as the loud sound was heard, you were still a tad shaken.

You sat at the bar and waved at the man behind it, asking him to refill the glasses. He nodded and took them away. Across from you a pair of twins were whispering and looking around. You tried not to stare but you'd seen them before. You shrugged. There were a lot of people around, yet your eyes kept looking at them, until you blinked and they were not there. 

“Great. I’m seeing ghosts now.” You mumbled placing a hand on your forehead.

"Then I hope you asked for the virgin drinks." You heard a raspy voice drawl behind you.

"Pshh…and miss the chance to see you drunk?” you swiveled your chair to look at the man. 

Chishiya was standing there, hands in the pockets of his swim trunks, and white the hood up on this blueish jacket. No shirt underneath. 

"Does all your clothing have pockets?" You asked and he nodded.

"Yes and all my jackets have hoodies" he grinned at you, sitting in the chair next to you and pushing the said hood down.

"There were no hoodies in the suits." You laughed as the expression on his face changed into a mocking one.

"They are sewn into the lining." He said with a serious face.

"Shut up." You slapped his shoulder and he mocked the injury. “You didn’t need to come to me. The buddy system only works if we’re out of sight.” 

"As much as I enjoy being your unspoken buddy, that’s not why I’m here.” He confessed and you raised your eyebrows. “It’s all about the math: Four glasses, two hands and a DJ that likes sudden pops." 

“Ah…” You acknowledged, grinning. “Of course. My knight in a shiny hoodie, I suppose.”

Chishiya gave you a look of surprise, but the corners of his lips slowly turned upwards. You looked away, mimicking his smile, silently blaming the alcohol in the drinks for the boldness. A comfortable silence fell between you as you waited for the barman to finish the drinks.

"We have to go to the Game thingy." You told him suddenly and he raised an eyebrow.

"We do?"

You nodded profusely, looking at your other friends over your shoulder. Their heads were leaning together, trying and failing to hide the fact they were staring at the two of you. You heard Chishiya humming as he looked back as well.

“We do.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because those two lovely humans have been through it with us and they deserve a little fun. So, you’re gonna brush up on your card counting and we’re gonna win these people some prizes…” You replied, and saw one of his eyebrows raise. “Or we are babysitting them at the nightclub.”

Chishiya was still looking at you with a surprised look, his grin turning to a full smile and laughter. This is something he didn’t do often, but you were always glad to see his toothy smile.

“Card counting it is.”

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