#Sky Force Day 1 earnings

[jasminewilson143]

Sky Force Box Office Collection Day 1: Akshay Kumar’s Stellar Comeback With Double-Digit Opening

Sky Force Box Office Collection Day, After a series of lackluster box office performances. Bollywood actor Akshay Kumar is back in the spotlight with his most recent movie. Sky Force, Sky Force is proving to be the much-needed hit that Akshay and his fans were looking for. as seen by its amazing opening-day collection. Let’s examine this thrilling drama’s specifics and present performance. A…

[doromoni]

Off Track Pace | MV1 , ?

Ships Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader , ? x presenter! Reader , Platonic! Charles Leclerc x presenter! Reader

Genre : Fluff , Angst

Sub tags : mutual pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late,

Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?

Face claim: Sofia Wylie

A/N : I’m so sorry luvs! I’m working on updating Clash of Champions , i promise ~ it’s my uni’s finals exams so I gotta focus on that first… so here’s a peace offering.

Part 2.

Media day, usually on a Thursday — a day that most Formula 1 drivers dread. A day where cameras followed their every move, interviews with journalists that twisted their every word and silly PR stunts forced on them by their teams. It used to be just all racing and winning podiums, but modern Formula 1 is all about media politics and sponsorships.

If you were to ask any driver on the grid if they were given the chance not to do PR, they would say yes to skipping it. But not everything about media day is horrendous.

Not when a new motorsports journalist joins the paddock that was an absolute sweetheart and delight to have around. A natural on the job — she always made sure that every driver that she interviewed was comfortable and enjoying their time with her and the segment.

the.Y/N

liked by skysportsf1 , lissiemackintosh, f1 , and 689,270 others

the.Y/N first day on the job? . i’m not nervous, you are! (She said literally shaking)

skysportsf1 Welcome to the team Y/N! ❤️

the.Y/N thank you kind employers. 🤍

lissiemackintosh Babe!! It’s finally official. Congratulations!

the.Y/N Thanks to you Babe!! I swear I would’ve been lost without you 😭

User1 who is she?

the.Y/N literally no one

User2 Ohhhh a new commentator? 🤔

User3 maybe she’s a journalist?

scuderriaferrari the kids had fun. They want their clay statues on display!

User2 Clay statues?? Hello?? Wut?

User3 Same question, Clay statues??

the.Y/N wait and see 🤷‍♀️ , the interview would drop tomorrow? Maybe~

User4 Its her first day and she literally had an interview with Charles and Carlos in Ferrari???

the.Y/N well no , the first interview was with Lewis Hamilton … so. 🤭

User5 WHAT?? Ok , queen slay!

User4 damnn , imagine being new to your field and already interviewing the big guys.

mclaren Do us next please 🙋‍♂️

redbullracing get in line!

the.Y/N gotta stop by Aston first , sorry besties.

User6 OK WHAT IS HAPPENING, ms. Y/N who are your connections 😭 i want in.

User7 why are all the teams here??

Y/N L/N was the F1 presenter and journalist who put drivers willingly out of their comfort zones and made them try something new. You genuinely loved what you do and you were passionate about it. You never showed partiality among the drivers, you treated everyone with the same attitude — this earned the respect of all drivers on the grid.

You were quickly becoming a paddock favorite. The fans enjoyed the content you put out and the drivers looked forward to your interview when they saw your name on their schedule.

Interviewing with you usually meant cheat meals and unusual activities that you thought they would like.

the.Y/N

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 740,155 others

the.Y/N maybe bowling isn’t the best idea. @charles_leclerc you suck, ngl. New vid out on Monday at the sky sports channel🤍

charles_leclerc i hate you ❤️

the.Y/N no you don’t 😌

charles_leclerc no, i don’t

User1 I love their dynamic so much!! I need more of the Paddock siblings pleaseee

User2 I can’t wait for more of Y/N bullying Charles into weird things and Ferrari doing nothing about it🤣

landonorris but why is charles in a cowboy costume?

the.Y/N i dunno? He just showed up in that 🤷‍♀️

charles_leclerc You told me we were riding horses and you wanted me to wear smth cowboy!!

the.Y/N oh yeah! Lmao

landonorris should i feel bad?

the.Y/N Nope. He’s happy either way. Aren’t you @charles_leclerc?

User2 NOT THE LMAO . Y/N thank you being you

User3 Y/N giving us Cowboy Charles , yes ma’am

User3 JUST DATE ALREADY!

the.Y/N EW. No

charles_leclerc Ok , the ew was unnecessary. But same. No thanks :)) i’m not dating my sister .

User4 Charles call y/n his sister 🥺

However, No matter how much you tried to keep things professional by being just a driver: journalist, something your boss commented during a quick meeting because fans kept shipping you with every driver. What you found weird is that most drivers you see as older brothers and some even uncles (don’t tell Nando). Plus most of them had girlfriends!

Nevertheless, your relationship with them seems to always end up with them hanging around your office at Sky, whenever they are free. Even the older drivers like Nando, Lewis and even Nico and Kevin use your office as an escape from the chaos of their motorhomes.

You didn’t mind hosting the older drivers in your room, as they were usually tame and kept to themselves as they read the books on your shelves in peace. They usually plop themselves down your couch and place the oversized plush you always bring on their lap. They always brought you snacks, so you looked forward to the times when their heads popped in your door and asked if they could come in.

But when the younger drivers visit your office? And if they came in groups — which they usually do. Oh boy, it was either a clusterfuck of them stealing snacks from your secret stash or your office becoming a den for hot gossip in the paddock usually led by the one and only Charles Leclerc.

Case in point. You now have Charles, Carlos, Max and to your surprise Checo in your office. The older Spanish-speaking driver was a rare visitor, but a welcome one nonetheless.

But considering the topic in discussion, you understood the presence of the two Red Bull drivers.

You were in the middle of typing away on your laptop when suddenly they barged in with ice cream tubs and spoons at hand then found a spot to sit and made themselves comfortable.

“Is Newey leaving Red Bull?” Charles asked Max and Checo, as he scooped a bite from his ice cream.

“We have no clue! Christian is saying nothing to us. Nothing” Max exclaimed exasperated as Checo nodded in agreement.

“So Adrian Newey is moving to Ferrari?” You questioned as you pointed your spoon at Charles

“Y/N, I love you like a sister and I know that you’re incredibly smart, but sometimes you are stupid. We’re clueless in Ferrari, hence my question ”

You threw your wooden spoon at the Monaco-born Ferrari driver. Which he easily avoided thanks to his fast reflexes. Freaking f1 reflexes!

“ I wasn't the person who got named for being stupid— HEY! Max give that back!! You don't even like salted caramel” You were trying to rebut Charles’ insult but were distracted when Max took your ice cream for himself.

Max just shrugged and placed his half-consumed chocolate brownie fudge ice cream in your hands — his spoon still in it. You didn’t complain further as you took his spoon and took a bite yourself. Yum! Brownie fudge is your favorite.

“Dude, what is even going on inside Red Bull? What was Horner under investigation for?” Carlos pressed on, trying to find answers. You were curious yourself

“Everyone is being weird. They’re keeping things from us. “ Checo added. You knew that they were truly left in the dark because if they knew they would’ve spilled instantly. NDAs be damned.

“Every interview, people keep asking if we know something! one more journalist and I swear I’ll run them over with my car! I hate each one of them” Max grumbled to himself.

You coughed. You knew that you were an exception but you couldn’t help but mess around with your friends.

“Don’t even, Y/N. You know you don’t count. “ Max waved you off.

“Wow! Thank you for that babe. Way to make a girl feel special” you said jokingly to the Dutch driver, as you winked dramatically. To which he only rolled his eyes — making you and the rest of the drivers laugh.

Max was immune to your flirting, unfortunately. It sucked especially when you had a tiny …. Ok big … HUGE crush on the 3 time world champion.

Max to you was like an Older brother’s best friend — Where you were the little sister crushing on him and you didn’t have a chance. You knew that like the other drivers, he just saw you as a little sister. But still you couldn’t help but fall the star driver of Red Bull.

Everything started when you brought your niece to the paddock because your sister had an emergency. You were scheduled to interview Checo in the RB motorhome and your niece was starting to feel fussy and you were slightly panicking on what to do— when Max suddenly came to your rescue and took your niece out to ice cream.

You admit you found Max attractive even before— like so damn attractive, but that was it— nothing more. But when you found Max carrying your niece in his arms as they played inside his garage, you knew that you were a goner to the charms of Max Verstappen.

You have been pinning for Max for a year now. You wished that you had the confidence and courage to just confess. But the fear of rejection freighted you, so you settled to just keep your friendship with the devastatingly handsome Red Bull champion.

As time went on, and nothing but friendship between you and Max developed — You’ve come to terms with the process of letting go of your feelings. Even when you’ve already met his mom and sister, hung out in his yacht and spent nights over his place when movie nights with Charles and his girlfriend went too late. You knew not to think anything of it.

And you were right to think nothing of it. Because not a week later, rumors had spread all over the paddock that Kelly Piquet had set her eyes on Max. You didn’t believe it at first, but when you saw with your own two eyes them engaged talking happily in his garage. The sparkle in Max’s eyes had solidified your will to move on.

A few weeks had passed and Kelly’s presence was constant in the paddock. Everyone had speculated that she had become Max’s girlfriend. But no one was sure, not even you — Max had been silent about it.

You tried to be happy for them you did. But you can’t blame yourself for wishing that it was you instead. Even to this day, you are still trying to forget and bury your feelings for Max.

“Y/N? Y/N? Oi Y/N” You suddenly were startled out of your thoughts. You forgot that you were still with the drivers in your office.

“What? Sorry, I just remembered something. What did you say?” You asked Charles as he was the one who called you.

“I asked if you had an interview today” Upon hearing the words of the Monegasque, your eyes grew wide as you remembered that you did have a job to do and you were indeed almost late.

“SHIT! I DO I’m late! “ You suddenly sprang up from your seat and quickly gathered the things you needed — while the 4 drivers looked at you with amusement.

“Who’s scheduled for you today, Y/N?” Max had also sat up from his seat and gave you an opened bottle of water.

You received the bottle from Max. You didn’t have to thank the driver — just one look from you and he knew.

The other drivers looked amongst themselves as they saw your exchange with Max. Everyone had a knowing look on their faces.

“I'm going to Mclaren today! I have the whole day with Lando. “ You said as you closed your once abandoned laptop and placed it in your bag — the one Max gave you on your birthday.

“What have you planned for Lando, Y/N?” Checo asked curiously. He still remembered his interview where you both made bracelets and stuffed toys for his daughters — his daughters loved it and went to sleep with it every single day.

“Oh! I’m taking Lando to a rage room, then drive-thru for food.” You explained happily to the older Mexican driver.

“Which part of that is the interview?” Charles had interjected

“While we eat the food in the parking lot, duh,” You said as if they should’ve already known. Well, they should by now.

“You know Y/N, Lando likes you right? ” Carlos had suddenly dropped a bomb on you. You didn’t expect it at all.

“What?” Max had suddenly said — catching all of you off guard. You didn’t understand, why Max had reacted so suddenly. But you pushed that aside for now as you continued to stuff everything you need in the bag

“What do you mean, Lando likes me?” You asked Carlos, with your eyebrows scrunched together.

“He likes you. Like you know? Take you out on dates and all that” Carlos replied as he gauged your reaction.

“Ohhhh, that’s cute! how did you even know about it, Carlos” you asked not taking any of it seriously.

“Cute?” You heard Max muttered under his breath.

“He told me. I won’t spoil anything else. I’m not even supposed to say that he likes you, but oh well.” Carlos shrugged as he finished off his ice cream.

“What do you think about Lando?” Charles suddenly asked you. The Ferrari driver leaned forward

“Will you date him if he asks you ?” Checo then joined the conversation.

“ You should say yes, I mean you two are the same-“ Charles had suddenly grown excited.

“Ok whoa, calm down dads. He hasn’t asked anything yet! “ you exclaimed

“But will you say yes if he asked?” Max then asked you, his eyes piercing your soul. After all of the other questions, Max was the one to Catch you off guard.

“Uh yes, I guess? I mean, why not? Lando is fun And he is single right … ” You were panicking so you said yes, even when you knew that you weren’t ready for anything like that since you still held feelings for Max.

“ YES! I thought that you-“ Charles wasn't able to finish his sentence when you cut him off.

“OK, bye guys! See you later. I need to go!” And just like that you were gone, leaving the four drivers in your office — not letting them question you further.

“I swear, that kid is weird.” Charles shakes his head from side to side at your actions.

“Lando likes Y/N?” Max had asked again just to make sure that he had heard the Spaniard correctly.

“ Lando is a good kid. They’ll make a good couple, no?” Checo asked no one in particular, as Max was not moving from where you left him.

“Wait, wait… since when did Lando like Y/N?” Max asked confused, looking green with jealousy. Fingers tingling as they clenched on itself

“Well he was interested in Y/N since the beginning but he backed off since everyone thought that you two had a thing” Carlos explained as he stood up and went to raid your snack stash.

“Yeah, but now you’re with the daughter of Piquet. what’s her name again? KELLY! yes, kelly. So Lando is taking his shot” Charles added

“You knew? Charles, you knew about Lando?” Max was aghast at the knowledge that was just receiving now.

“Well yeah? I was the one to encourage him to ask Y/N out. ” Charles shrugged nonchalantly. He knew about your feelings for the Red Bull driver, but he also saw how hurt you were when Max started seeing Kelly out of nowhere. Charles wanted to help his friends — specially the ones that he grew to love like his own sibling in any way that he could. Plus it was time for Y/N to have fun, and Lando Norris is exactly that.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Max was conflicted. His emotions growing uncontrollably by the second.

“ Mate, we haven’t seen you for how many weeks! You were always out with your new girlfriend. Even Y/N had no contact with you “ Carlos explained to Max.

silence filled the room, when suddenly pings of notifications sounded all over the rooms.

And Charles couldn’t help but whistle.

“Well he sure does move past” he had added.

Your story

As Max looked at his phone. Your Ig story flashed. His heart had started to hurt and the feeling of a pit in his stomach grew. it was as if someone punched him right in the gut.

And another notification ping had popped . And it only made Max’s stomach churn even further.

landonorris

[aprocessionofthoughts]

In the Graveyard

ectoberweek24 day 1- graveyard shift fandom- dp x dc tw- none summary- Danny sees something unusual

masterlist ao3

Danny hums quietly to himself as he walks between the graves, picking up trash and wilted flowers. The moon is full tonight, and the sky isn’t too clouded which is nice, especially considering this is Gotham. He takes a bucket and rag and starts cleaning off the gravestones.

Of the two jobs he has, this was probably his favorite even though it hardly paid. But it’s peaceful, and they let him work at night. It’s also a way for Danny to spend his time since he doesn't need to sleep. He can. It was just… nightmares. He’d rather be here, earning a little bit of money then trying to sleep through memories of his time in the lab.

He’s almost done, ready to go back to his apartment and enjoy a cup of coffee and some late night t.v., but as he stands and starts heading towards the last row of gravestones he feels a shiver crawl up his spine. His breath clogs in his throat, and he feels his eyes flash.

There is something tugging at him, pulling him toward one of the graves he’s already passed. 

He follows the pull. It doesn't feel like a ghost, but there’s something there, something he can’t ignore. 

As he gets closer the pull gets stronger, and with rising fear he can see the dirt shifting on one of the graves. And like in a horror movie, a hand presses up out of the dirt.

Danny freezes for a moment, before jolting forward. He grasps the hand in his and pulls, using his intangibility to pull the person through the dirt. The boy, because the person can’t possibly be older than sixteen, collapses on the ground. Danny crouches by him, turning the boy over onto his back. The kid’s dressed in a fancy suit although it’s streaked with dirt, and Danny winces when he sees the kids fingers are bloody, fingernails torn.

He dug himself out.

Who would bury a child. Danny glances at the gravestone. According to the inscription the kid died six months ago. Danny feels the barest touches of ectoplasm, it shouldn’t be enough to turn someone liminal let alone raise someone from the dead. 

But none of that matters right now. He has to get the kid to his apartment. Danny doesn’t think he should take the kid to a hospital. They’ll ask too many questions that Danny won’t be able to answer. No. he’ll take the kid with him, treat his wounds and try to find out what happened. If the kid is liminal he might need Danny’s help with the side effects.

“Hey there, kid. I’m going to take you back to my apartment, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I promise. I’m going to help.” Danny glances at the gravestone again. He hopes that the kid can go back to his family, that they’ll accept him. But Danny won’t force it. He knows that sometimes families can’t accept when you’re different from what they want. 

But Danny can’t help but hope this kid’s, Jason according to the gravestone, family will be different. That they’ll be loving and accepting, all the things that Danny’s family wasn’t.

He picks the kid up, his eyes stare blankly up at Danny.

He’ll need some help coming back to himself. Danny will feed him some ectoplasm.

He’ll take care of him. 

Danny will make sure he’s safe, and that no one can hurt him.

[techhiz]

Hi👋 love your storys as first, and I have an small request, how would earthspark characters, even the decepticons, react to thare s/o, partner, gn reader having an dragon Alt mode that is bigger and more bulkier than Grimlock but smaller than tham in general and...

🥰DROP🥰

❤️‍🔥DEAD❤️‍🔥

🫶GORGEOUS🫶

I hope you understood my request and have an good day/night💜💗🌌

Thank you so much for your kind words! I love your request and am super excited to write it! Here’s how the EarthSpark characters (Autobots, Terrans, and Decepticons alike) would react to their S/O having a gorgeous dragon alt mode:

Autobots

Bumblebee

The moment you transform, Bumblebee freezes mid-step, his optics widening as he takes in the sheer size and majesty of your alt mode.

"Whoa... I mean, I knew you were cool, but this? This is next-level awesome!"

He immediately wants to race you—dragon wings versus his speed. Spoiler: he loses but doesn’t mind because he’s too busy staring at how graceful you look in the air.

Absolutely gushes to the Maltos about you later. "Did you see how incredible they looked? My partner’s got a DRAGON alt mode. I’m officially dating the coolest bot in existence!"

Optimus Prime

Ever the composed leader, Optimus silently admires your transformation. The sheer scale and intricate details of your dragon form earn a soft, approving nod.

"Your form is... remarkable. It inspires both strength and awe. I see why Bumblebee speaks so highly of you."

He’d absolutely call on you during high-stakes battles, confident that your form alone could turn the tide.

Elita-1

Elita whistles low as she circles you, taking in every scale and wing joint.

"Well, aren’t you the shining star of the battlefield? Grimlock better watch out."

Loves sparring with you—testing your strength and dexterity. Always challenges you to see if you can carry her mid-flight.

Terrans

Twitch

Twitch is absolutely starstruck. The first time you transform, she stumbles backward, her optics wide with excitement.

"You’re... a dragon! A real dragon! Can you breathe fire? Can you fly super fast? How big are your wings?!"

Constantly bombards you with questions about your alt mode and begs for rides through the sky.

Thrash

Thrash is immediately hyped. He runs circles around your massive form, shouting praises.

"This is insane! You’re a DRAGON. This is the coolest thing ever!"

Would totally try to jump onto your back for a ride, and when you agree, he makes it a point to yell, “Yeehaw!” like he’s in a Western.

Nightshade

Nightshade’s fascination is purely intellectual at first. They analyze every aspect of your form, intrigued by the mechanics of how your wings fold and the way your tail moves.

"The engineering behind this transformation is exquisite. Did you design it yourself, or is it natural?"

Loves sitting on your back while you fly, though.

Would fly with you in her alt mode.

Jawbreaker

Jawbreaker is in absolute awe. He sees your dragon form as the epitome of strength and grace.

"You look... amazing. Like something out of an old Cybertronian legend."

Wants to spar with you occasionally, though he’s always careful not to overdo it. Loves just hanging out, staring at the stars while you rest your wings.

Hashtag

Hashtag immediately takes a thousand pictures.

"You’re going viral, babe! The internet is going to eat this up!"

Loves riding on your back and getting all the best angles for her "Dragon Date Chronicles." Absolutely brags about you to everyone.

Decepticons

Megatron

Megatron is momentarily taken aback when you reveal your alt mode, but he quickly masks it with a smirk.

"Impressive. Your form commands respect. Use it wisely, and you’ll become a force to be reckoned with."

Secretly thinks you’re the most awe-inspiring bot in the room and sometimes catches himself staring when he thinks you’re not looking.

Soundwave

Soundwave doesn’t speak, but the way he tilts his helm and the faint flicker of his visor shows his intrigue.

Immediately calculates your capabilities in battle and silently approves of your power.

You catch him replaying footage of your transformation later, but he’ll never admit to it.

Starscream

At first, he’s annoyed. "Oh, great, another show-off. As if I needed more competition for attention."

But then he sees how utterly magnificent your form is and gets a bit flustered. "Well... I suppose you are rather impressive."

Secretly jealous but also fascinated. He might ask (in his own roundabout way) if you’d ever team up with him.

Knockout(If he would be in the show)

Knockout is floored. "Darling, you’re an absolute vision! The wings, the scales—perfection!"

He’s obsessed with your aesthetics and is already planning ways to accessorize your dragon form. "Maybe some polished chrome here, a pop of color there..."

Definitely insists on taking you out for a joyride just so everyone can see you two together.

[darlingdreadwrites]

I hear you breathing, baby. Been chasing you all night.

pairing: Jeff the Killer x Final Girl!Reader

part: 1, 2, 3

summary: After arriving at a hospital and leaving the investigation to the police, you start to get sick of locking yourself away in your apartment. An impulsive walk for some air earns you another encounter with Jeff.

contains: fight scene

warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, violence, stabbing, pet names and name calling (baby, sweetheart, bitch)

word count: 6.1k

masterlist

a.n: FINALLY DONE WITH IT WOOOOOO!!! IT GOT TOO LONG SO I HAD TO SPLIT IT UP THE SMUT TO A SECOND POST!! i think jeff brings out the worst in me because hello???? my first smut?????

You’re suddenly hyperaware that you’re gripping the wheel too tight. Your knuckles are white, and your hands tremble in sync with the rest of you. Your eyes dart to the rearview mirror, expecting to still see the parking lot and him. You’re only met with empty roads. The sun hangs heavy in the sky – glaring down. The heat is suffocating in this stuffy old car, but the cold is still clinging to your bones. You still have that same chill from experiencing what just happened – what you had just run from.

You realize you’re not sure how you’ve gotten here. The motel, the blood, Tony, Steph, Don—wasn’t it just minutes ago? Hours? Days? Your vision blurs, a wave of dizziness pull you under.

The road sign hits you like a slap. The town’s miles behind – farther than you thought. You pull over without thinking, the tires crunching on the gravel as you slow to a stop. The car’s engine cuts, but the silence is deafening.

Your heart pounds violently in your chest, and it almost sounds like it’s echoing in the car you’ve just realized that you’ve stolen. Your clothes stick to your skin, drenched in something you knew wasn’t sweat. You don’t want to think about it – how the blood is caked into your hair or how you can still taste the blood of the motel owner in your mouth. You glance down at your shirt, eyes wide at the still darkening spots across your body. Everything still feels unreal. This whole thing – your body, this car, the road you’re on – feels like someone else’s experience.

You didn’t even realize you’d started the car again until you parked near a hospital. It seemed you were still dead to the world.

Hands shaking, you unlock the door and step out with shaky legs. Your stomach churns as you force yourself to stumble forward. You need to move, you tell yourself. You need to keep going.

The ER’s entrance is a blur. You push through the double doors, the automatic ones sliding open with a mechanical sigh. Nurses and doctors rush around, moving in and out of view. Their faces were filled with confusion, concern – maybe fear. Someone says something to you—questions? Orders? You’re not sure. You’re only aware of the blood staining your skin. The world is too bright – too loud – and you’re too tired to keep standing. You sway on your feet, feeling the air thicken.

“I’m fine,” you say. It sounds like a lie, and you know you’re not fooling anybody.

“Ma’am?” A nurse catches your arm – pulling you in – but you can barely register the motion. Someone else starts talking, maybe a doctor—

“She’s lost a lot of blood.”

No I didn’t, you want to say. This wasn’t your blood that you were covered in.

“I’m—” The words won’t come. You shake your head, trying to find the pieces yourself.

A gentle push. Someone was trying to guide you on a gurney. You sit down, limbs too heavy. Then they’re all around you – too close, poking, prodding, questioning.

 “Where are you hurt?”

“What happened to you?”

“I’m not hurt,” you rasp, but the answer sounds as wrong as it feels. How can you explain the truth when you can’t even put it together for yourself?

You must have fallen asleep. You’re in a room that smells too clean, a nurse is humming in a corner. She turns quickly when she hears the rustle of sheets as you try to sit up. She smiles at you, and you think you hear her asking how you’re feeling. It sounded too far away for you to think you can reach her with a reply – your throat felt too dry.

The door swings open, and two officers step in. You immediately want them to leave, but they won’t. They want to ask questions, then more questions. You don’t want to talk. You want to scream. The officer on the left steps forward, a middle-aged man with a face worn by years of routine. He’d be perfect in a cop show, you think.

“Miss.” His tone is carefully neutral – he’s trained well. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

“I…” Your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. The weight of his gaze makes your chest tighten as you look up at him.

The other officer – younger – with sharp eyes steps closer, his notepad ready. “Can we start with your name?”

It takes a moment before the sound of your own name feels real on your tongue. You give it to him reluctantly, like it’s the last piece of yourself you have to offer.

“Thank you.” The older officer glances at the folded bundle of clothes sitting on a nearby chair. You knew they would take the bloodied fabric for evidence soon. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The question hangs heavily in the air. Your lips part, but nothing comes out. The truth is stuck in your throat – tangled up in everything you’ve been running from.

“I’m not hurt,” you say quickly. You’re trembling, your pulse pounding in your ears. You shove your shaking hands under the hospital blanket – hiding them like it’ll make you seem less broken.

The older officer tries again, softer this time. “Where did you come from, ma’am? Were you travelling alone?”

That’s the spark that lights the fuse. A harmless question – probably routine – but it lodges in your mind and unravels everything you’ve been trying to hold together.

You weren’t alone.

The motel’s stairs flash in your mind’s eye – Don’s voice creeps back in.

“What’s wrong, babe? You finally find out?”

You blink hard, your breath hitching. The walls of the hospital room feel closer now – the air thinner.

“Miss?” The younger officer is watching you carefully. You realize too late that you’ve been silent too long.

“I-I can’t.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “I can’t—”

“You’re safe now,” the older one assures, but the words are meaningless. Safe? You’d laugh if it didn’t feel like choking.

“I don’t know…” Your hands twist in the blanket – wringing. “It’s all—”

Another flicker of the past. Don, leaning too close, his grin too wide. The rail under your hands – cold.

“I don’t remember,” you lie, your voice flat and distant.

The officers exchange a glance. It’s subtle, but you catch it.

The younger one presses, his tone firmer now. “You don’t remember where you came from? Or how you got here?”

Your breath quickens. The questions feel like they’re coming too fast – piling you, cornering you. You stare at the floor in an attempt to ground yourself, but the hospital tiles blur and shift.

The stairs had creaked beneath your weight as you climbed them, the knot in your stomach still tight after what you’d just seen. You didn’t want to think about it tonight, but you couldn’t stop – couldn’t erase the image of them together. Your boyfriend and your friend – the betrayal.

You’d barely made it to the second floor when Don stopped you. His smirk had twisted to a cruel sneer when you didn’t respond.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He asked again in that mocking tone you’d always hated.

When you continued with your silence, his grin stretched wider – knowing. He’d known. Had had to have known what you’d seen. He had to have known for months.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low and coaxing. “I know the perfect way to get back at him.”

You had turned to leave, but he wouldn’t have let an opportunity go. His hand landed on your arm tightly.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he teased. His hand slid lower, just above your waist to pull you closer. He pushed you toward the railing, and all you knew was that his body was too close. His breath was too hot against your skin.

You snapped.

The world stopped. You shoved him – hard. His eyes went wide for a split second before he tumbled backward, his body hitting the ground with a sickening—

CRACK

The sound of bones breaking – his bones. Your heart slams in your chest, and you hear nothing else except—

“Miss?”

A hand touches your shoulder – it’s the older officer. You flinch violently, jerking away before you can stop yourself.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

The sterile scent of disinfectant clings to the air while your mind races – replaying fragments of the questions they asked.

Who were you with? Did anyone see you? Where did the blood come from?

Their faces had been impartial – professional – but you’d caught the flicker of doubt in their eyes. There was a tight set of their jaws when your answers came slow – as if you were piecing together a story instead of recounting the truth.

You’ve been left to stew – to sink into the waiting silence. It’s not intentional cruelty, just procedure. Time for you to gather yourself, or maybe just to let the shock wear off enough for them to catch you in a lie – if one exists.

When the door swings open again, it’s not one of the officers who asked the earlier questions. Her movements were more cautious, and her badge reflects the harsh light of the room. She pulls up a chair and sits across from you, placing a recorder on the table between you both. She introduces herself, but you don’t bother to remember it.

“I know this is hard,” she begins, her voice softer than the others. “But we need you to walk through what happened again.”

You can’t look at her for a moment as you swallow hard. Instead, your eyes dart to the blank notepad she holds in her hands.

“I already told the other officers…” Your voice trails off weakly.

“I understand.” Her pen is poised, but unmoving. “But we need to be thorough. Sometimes, details don’t come out until the second or third time.”

You clasp your hands tightly in your lap as you finally manage to speak. “It wasn’t my blood.”

“Okay. That’s helpful.” She leans forward slightly. “Can you tell me whose it was?”

“It was the motel owner’s.” Your voice is shaky but certain. “He… he was right in front of me when—”

You break off, the memory of Jeff’s blade sinking into flesh and the spray of red flashing behind your eyes. A shiver racks your body, and you fold your arms tighter around yourself.

She nods slowly. “And before that?”

“Tony and Stephanie. My boyfriend and my friend. They—” Your throat tightens again. “He… he carved smiles into their faces.”

The pen finally moves across the page, each scratch of ink feeling like a needle pricking your skin. The officer hesitates, her gaze flicking up to you.

“You said he?” she prods, and you nod.

“A man. He came after me. Pale skin, long black hair, and… his face.” You struggle for the words, the image of that grotesque grin burned into your memory. “His mouth was cut. Like… a smile. It looked… old.”

She shifts in her seat, a flicker of recognition crossing her features. “And you didn’t know him? You’ve never seen him before?”

“No. Never.” You shake your head until a sharp sinking feeling snaps you still. “No-wait—he… I think I saw him at a gas station before we, we went to the motel—”

The officer’s lips press into a thin line, and she scribbles something down. Her silence feels heavier this time.

“What?” you press.

Her gaze hardens, though not unkindly. “Your description… it matches some of our open cases. It’s consistent.”

The words sink into you like stones – the gravity of her implication chilling.

“Consistent?” you echo.

“Yes,” she sighs. “With someone we’ve been trying to identify for a long time.”

“I don’t, I don’t know who he is,” you insist, panic rising. “I don’t know anything about him. I just—”

“It’s okay.” She cuts you off softly before the spiral can take hold. “You’ve done well. You’re safe now. We’ll handle the rest.”

After a few more questions, she rises from her seat, the recorder clicking off with a decisive snap.

“If we have more questions, we’ll be in touch.”

You don’t respond, and the door closes behind her as she leaves you alone with the fluorescent lights and the sterile smell. For the first time since the nightmare began, you cry. It’s not loud or frantic – just silent tears carving tracks down your cheeks. You can still feel his eyes on you – the smirk that didn’t need the scar to be chilling.

You wonder if they’ll catch him. You wonder if it even matters.

You were already broken.

Three Months Later

Although the bloodstains have been washed off of your skin, it still lingers in your mind, on the walls, and in your veins. Tony, being – having been – a jealous boyfriend, you had given up on making new friends. Your relationship with your family being… what it was, meant that you had no support other than the therapist recommended to you by a detective. The detective has made bi-monthly visits since then, and yet you still never felt safe or less alone. But the fear was quickly changing itself into indifference, making you more afraid of yourself. Miller’s voice comes at you like clockwork, filling the silence of your apartment with the same, monotonous warnings.

“Just make sure you lock up. Keep your blinds drawn. Don’t go out alone, not at night—”

You tune him out, having gotten tired of this routine that would lead to nowhere. He says it every time he checks in, which has been far too often for your liking. Even if he doesn’t visit your apartment, he’ll call every other day. You know his speech by heart. You stare blankly at him, arms crossing tightly in front of you – unwilling to give him any satisfaction.

“Yeah, yeah, Miller,” you mutter under your breath.

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he might call you out on your annoyed tone (a silent goal you’ve set for yourself). But, instead, he looks down at his notepad. You hate how this feels – why is he prying into your life like you’re the suspect. Wanting to know what makes you tick, where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing.

“Anything unusual lately?” Miller asks, and you suppress an eyeroll. If anything was unusual, surely you would have told him in the twenty minutes that he’s been in your apartment. Sometimes, you wish something would happen – that you’d see…

But his questions feel like tests – like traps he wants you to fall into, one way or another.

“No,” you reply stiffly, your gaze avoiding his.

His lips press into a thin line as if he’s silently judging you. He’s got that look in his eyes – the one that’s starting to really get under your skin. It’s one part concern, one part suspicion, and it always feels like you’re the one on trial.

“Right.” His voice is tight – he’s not convinced. Because why would you want a serial killer who’s most likely after you found and put in jail? “Well, if anything changes – anything at all – call us, alright?”

You stare at the door where he’s about to leave, your pulse rising with the need to snap. But instead, you just nod – the bitter taste of frustration pooling in your mouth. He sighs before stepping into the hallway, clearly too familiar with your disinterest.

“Remember what I said. Lock the doors, check the windows, and don’t go out at night. It’s dangerous right now, and you’re not—”

“I get it, Miller,” you cut him off, teeth clenched. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for him or the constant reminders – your suffocating apprehension and panic attacks did that for you. You didn’t ask for the nightmares that twist your stomach into knots, or the feeling that someone is always watching. But this is your reality now. His questions, his advice, his presence – it’s all become a constant, and you’re so sick of it.

The door clicks shut behind him, but the tension doesn’t leave. Instead, it presses down on your chest like a weight – suffocating you – filling the spaces between your ribs with the dread you can’t escape. You stand there for a while after he leaves, staring at nothing. You’re caught in the emptiness that lingers in the wake of his departure.

The walls are closing in.

You walk to the kitchen without thinking, your movements automatic, hands shaking as they pull out a bottle of water from the fridge. You drink it all in three gulps, the coolness of it barely enough to settle the burning in your throat.

Your reflection in the window stares back at you as you walk past it – eyes wide and bloodshot from too many sleepless nights. The silence of the apartment gives way to a distant ringing.

It’s driving you crazy. You are crazy.

I’m crazy.

You push the thought down before you become a shell of yourself yet again. But the urge is still there – it always is – gnawing at you. It’s too much – being stuck, being hunted, being studied, being watched. All the what ifs flood your mind, and the ache in your chest gets worse with each passing moment. You can’t keep doing this – living like this. You can’t stay here – wrapped in fear – buried under the wight of your own thoughts.

You slip your fingers along the counter, the cool touch of your hunting knife under your palm bringing you an unexpected sense of calm. A precaution. You know that, deep down, it’s not just for your protection. It’s a tether – something to keep you grounded when the panic starts to swallow you whole. I should’ve had something like this that night, that’s what you told yourself when you bought it.

The decision comes to you in a flash – you need to get out. You need to do something – anything – to break the loop you’ve been trapped in.

You grab the knife, sliding it into your pocket with practiced ease. Your hands are steady now, the panic momentarily quieted. You don’t think about it, you just do it.

You walk to the door, hesitating for just a second as your hand rests on the doorknob. The air in the apartment feels colder, as if it knows of your plan – as if it’s holding you here in a way that’s far more suffocating than any walls.

You open the door and step into the hallway, your steps echoing louder than they should. But you can’t turn back now – you need air. You need freedom – you need to prove to yourself that you’re still in control of something.

The streetlights flicker overhead as you step out into the night, the city now your only company.

The night air cuts through the fabric of your jacket and brushes against your skin like icy fingertips. The streetlights cast uneven shadows across the pavement, their orange glow flickering and mirroring the unease in your chest. You walk quickly with no end goal in mind, keeping your head down and your hands stuffed in your pockets. The knife’s weight was a cold comfort against your palm. The city felt more alive than you had in months – cars honking in the distance, muffled conversations spilling out from bars and restaurants. It feels both active and oblivious to your presence, the crowds indifferent as they pass by. You’ve always thought of cities as anonymous. They were places where you could disappear into the throng. Tonight, though, it feels as if every set of eyes lands on you.

You’re clumsier than you’ve ever thought you’ve been tonight; you’re almost colliding with every person that walks by you. They don’t care enough to look at you or notice how frazzled you are, yet you’re fighting with your body to keep yourself from falling on top of someone. Anything could happen to you at this moment, and they’d still keep walking. Was that a comfort or a fear? You’re dizzy with so many people around you – when was the last time you’ve gone out?

Your pulse quickens as someone brushes against your shoulder.

“Watch it,” the man mutters, but his voice is gravelly – too familiar. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you spin around, tumbling backward into a lamppost.

He’s here – the pale skin, the long dark hair, the way his shoulders hunch forward. Jeff – it’s him – you’re sure of it.

“Stay away from me!” you shout, your voice trembling as you get ready to pull out your knife. A few people nearby stop and stare, their faces painted with curiosity and alarm. The man – no, not Jeff – holds up his hands, confusion etched across his face.

“Hey, lady, relax! I didn’t do anything!” His features are softer – older – lacking the cruel, twisted grin you’ve come to associate with him.

Your chest heaves as the realization crashes over you and you take your hands out of your pockets. Of course it isn’t Jeff. You’ve made yourself look like a fucking psycho in front of strangers, drawing attention you can’t afford. The onlookers begin to move on, murmuring among themselves. The man shakes his head and walks away, muttering an expletive you can’t quite hear.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but it’s too late. He’s already gone, and the embarrassment settles in your stomach.

You press on, your steps more hurried now. The crowds feel smothering, each passerby a potential threat. You can’t shake the sensation of being watched, the weight of unseen eyes following you with every step. Your fingers twitch against the knife in your pocket, the urge to grip it tighter battling the rational part of your mind that tells you to stop.

The streets begin to thin out as you leave the bustling main drag, your feet carrying you without thought. The noise of the city fades, replaced by a softer, uncanny quiet. You glance up and realize you’ve wandered into a park. The trees loom tall and dark, their branches stretching out like skeletal arms. Your breath clouds in front of you as you move deeper into the shadows despite knowing you should turn around.

But when was the last time you were in control of your own body?

Even before the murders, someone was always telling you what to do with yourself – be it Tony telling you not to wear that dress because it made you look too odd, or a professor completely disregarding a presentation topic you were passionate about for something completely unrelated that they worked on. You’re tired of not pursuing what you want – what you need. And, right now, with the looming threat of a certain someone watching you, your body was needing something you weren’t familiar with. Because despite the fear that kept you awake at night – the nightmares of Jeff finding you to finish the job – a dark and inexplicable part of you burned with the thought of being desired so intensely.

In all that questioning that the countless police officers and detectives would ask you – one of the only living witnesses Jeff had – about his whereabouts, you felt sadder each time you said no. But not for the reason of fear for your life. You wanted to see him – desperately. You wanted to ask him why. Why did he choose to target your group at the gas station? Why did he kill your friends? Why did he kill the motel owner? Why didn’t he kill you? Why did you feel so numb despite everything? Why is the only thing you’ve felt in months a twisted yearning for him? Why did he leave you to be so broken and alone?

Why didn’t he take you?

You tell yourself to turn back, to head toward the safety of the lights and people – but your legs don’t listen. The stillness pulls you in, the quiet whispering promises of solace that you desperately crave. The quiet and solitude of your apartment never felt safe since you came back, and yet these woods feel like a sanctuary.

The events of the night replay as you continue to walk – the motel room, the blood, the crunching of Don’s bones. Jeff’s face – the jagged smile that seemed to turn you on even as it terrified you.

“Poor little thing,” you imagine his voice, low and mocking. “Still running, still scared. Don’t you remember my promise?”

You shake your head violently, trying to banish the voice. It’s not real – he’s not here. It’s not real – it can’t be real. He’s not real. He can’t be. You repeat the words to yourself, but they do little to calm the rising panic in your chest. But the shadows – they shift. Too fast. Too close. You’re imagining it, aren’t you? Aren’t you?

The path beneath your feet turns to dirt, and the streetlights give way to the darkness. The park stretches out around you, its boundaries blurring into the woods. You hesitate, the rational part of your mind finally catching up.

This is a bad idea. I shouldn’t be here.

The wind rustles the leaves above, a sound that seems to ricochet unnaturally loud in the quiet. Your breath quickens, and you glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Jeff standing there. But the path behind you is empty.

You jump when a twig snaps underfoot, your hand instinctively going to your pocket. That was your own doing, you realize. The knife feels heavy now.

You freeze – a distant sound – a branch breaking, perhaps. You strain your ears, trying to make sense of it, but the lack of any response is oppressive. The woods are dark and endless, similar to the labyrinth of your mind in these past few months.

You turn back toward the city – or in the direction you think it might be in – and you walk toward it. Your breath comes in shallow gasps – the trees seem closer than before, their shadows stretching toward you and trying to pull you back.

 The sense of being watched wraps around you like a second skin, sticky and suffocating. It gets worse the more time you spend trying to retrace your steps. You glance over your shoulder for what feels like the hundredth time, but the path remains empty.

Your pace quickens, your boots hitting the ground harder as though you could outrun the unease crawling up your spine. You insist that it’s nothing – just the wind, the woods, your overactive imagination. But you feel a predator circling just beyond your vision.

That distant crack could’ve been from an animal, you tell yourself. A deer. A raccoon. Anything but him. The thought doesn’t settle the nausea bubbling in your gut as you infuriatingly slow to a stop. Slowly, you turn your head and scan the trees. Nothing moves – nothing stirs. But the sensation lingers – someone is there.

You force yourself forward, one trembling step at a time. Your hand doesn’t leave your pocket now, the knife’s handle being a tether in the oppressive darkness. The trail feels narrower, the trees reaching closer to you as though trying to trap you. Each sound is magnified – the creak of a bending branch, the snap of another stick somewhere that’s too fucking close. Was the echo of your footsteps always so slow? Did it always sound like second footsteps?

Your pulse hammers as your peripheral vision catches something – a flicker of motion, quick and subtle. You spin to look, but there’s darkness. Just shadows – just the woods. Yet your skin prickles, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

You walk faster, not wanting your mind to keep playing tricks on you. The soft thuds of your boots against the dirt trail becomes a rhythmic beat in the silence.

A shape shifts just out of sight – closer now. Your chest tightens, and your legs move on their own, breaking into a near run. The trees blur around you as you push yourself forward, desperate to leave the unseen presence behind. It’s colder now – biting at your face – and you’ve realized you’re nowhere near the path.

But the woods open into a clearing – mist clings to the ground, curling around your ankles, and the distant hum of the city feels impossibly far away. You’re alone, truly and completely. But the feeling of being watched hasn’t left. It’s strong enough to feel tangible, and you curse your stupidity for even leaving your apartment.

You stumble forward to the clearing’s center, spinning in place as your eyes dart to every shadow. The cracking of branches sounds louder and more deliberate, seemingly coming from everywhere. You narrow your eyes to pinpoint any movement in every dark gap between the trees. The silence presses against your skull, your hands tremble as you grip the knife so tight that your knuckles turn white.

The space is deathly quiet, save for the pounding of your heart. The cold air wraps tighter around you, constricting your chest.

“Out for a midnight stroll, sweetheart?”

The voice is unmistakable – low, teasing, and crawling under your skin like worms. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as your head jerks in every direction.

You whip your head from side to side, scanning the darkness for movement. But the voice doesn’t come again – not yet. It doesn’t need to. It’s already lodged deep in your mind – clawing at your fear.

A sound to your left – a crunch of leaves – and you spin toward it. But he’s not there – he’s not anywhere.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me.”

The shadows shift, and there he is – stepping into the clearing like he owns the night – Jeff. The sight of him is paralyzing. The pale, scarred face; the dark hair falling in uneven strands across his brow and brushing his shoulders. His lanky frame moves with a ravening grace, and his lips curl into that infamous grin, split wide enough to show too much teeth. The knife in his hand gleams under the fractured moonlight. Your grip tightens on your own blade, but his presence freezes you in place.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, his voice dripping with mock approval. He steps closer, one slow, casual stride at a time. You step back instinctively, your foot catching on a root, but you steady yourself before you can fall.

“Stay back,” you manage. His smile widens, and he chuckles.

“’Stay back’? That’s all you’ve got? After everything we’ve been through, baby, I thought you’d at least have a better line ready.”

“Shut up.” The words slip out before you can stop them, your voice trembling despite your best effort to steady it. You curl your fingers around your knife tighter. Jeff cocks his head, eyebrows shooting up.

“Poor Don. Didn’t stand a chance, did he?”

“Just, just leave—"

“What? No hello? No, ‘How have you been, Jeff?’ That hurts.” He places a hand derisively over his chest, before his grin sharpens. “But seriously, you didn’t waste any time, huh? Snapping poor Don like a fucking twig ‘cause you caught your boy with his dick in your homegirl?”

“I didn’t—” You choke on the words. “You did that.”

Jeff’s expression shifts – the tilt of his lips softening, but it doesn’t lose its malice.

“You didn’t tell them the truth about Don, did you?” he asks, his tone veering toward conversational.

The question hits you like a punch, and you recoil. “What are you talking about?”

Jeff tuts, shaking his head. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I was too busy killing your other buddies.”

Anger flares in the pit of your stomach, and you know it’s misplaced. You knew the truth just as much as he did.

“You killed him,” you snap, stepping forward despite yourself. “You killed him, just like you killed everyone else!”

Jeff’s laughter is as sharp and biting as shattered glass.

“Oh, is that how you remember it now? That’s cute.” He takes another step toward you, his knife spinning lazily in his hand. “You’re just like me, sweetheart. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“I’m nothing like you,” you spit.

“You sure about that?” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, and making your cheeks heat up. “I’m not the one that shoved him, am I?”

Your breath catches, and the memory flashes in your mind – Don, screaming, the cracking, your hand reaching out—

“No,” you mutter, shaking your head fervently. “That’s not what happened. You’re lying.”

Jeff’s expression flickers with mock sympathy.

“Oh, lying’s your thing, isn’t it? To the cops, to your shrink—hell, you’ve lied enough to yourself that you actually believe it now.” His tone turns just as deadly as his smile. “But come one, baby, we were both there. We both know what really happened.”

“I didn’t—”

He cuts you off with a triumphant laugh. “You can tell yourself whatever you want, but how long do you think it’ll take before the cops realize one of their corpses isn’t smiling like the rest? If they haven’t already, that is.”

Your blood turns to ice, and your fingers jerk around the knife. Jeff’s words wrap around your throat, squeezing tight with every syllable that your mind deciphers.  

“Shut up.” You pull the hunting knife from your pocket in one swift motion, and he doesn’t even flinch. It feels pitifully small compared to the blade in Jeff’s hand, but it’s all you have.

Jeff’s grin only grows as he watches you, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. He steps back, just enough to keep you guessing, and flips his knife effortlessly in his hand.

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs. “Now we’re talking.”

Adrenaline floods your veins, and your body tenses – you’re ready for whatever happens next. But Jeff is eerily still – he doesn’t strike. He just stands there, watching you with that infuriating sneer. As if he’s already won.

The tension crackles in the air like static, both of you locked in a deadly standoff in the woods. Jeff lunges with quickening speed. His knife whips through the air, aimed directly at your shoulder.

Your heart flips in your chest, but your instincts are faster than your fear. You duck low, your breath catching as the blade narrowly misses you. With a shaky, frenzied swipe, you aim your knife at him, but he sidesteps effortlessly. He’s beaming at the near miss, and you feel the scorch of his gaze as he circles like a vulture.

“Fuck, I knew you’d try to fight,” Jeff taunts. The venomous words drip from his mouth as his eyes gleam with sadistic delight. “Let’s see how long you last, bitch.”

You straighten and back up, the soles of your boots scraping against the dirt. Your pulse thunders in your ears, but you only think of how pissed Miller’s gonna be if he finds you dead. A tree behind you halts your retreat. Panic hooks onto you as you glance over your shoulder, but there’s nowhere left to run.  

With a feral growl, he strikes again – this time his blade catching your arm, The sting of the cut shocks you, sending a rush of pain through your veins. You grit your teeth, and the rising tide of anger and distress pushes you forward.

You swing, reckless, wild. The knife arcs toward him, but it’s a clumsy swing. Once again, Jeff is too quick – too calculated. His taunting laugh echoes in your ears as you try to recover from the near-miss.

His movements blur from his fluid precision, the edge of his blade flashing. The ground beneath you suddenly feels lighter than it should. Jeff sweeps his leg under yours, knocking you off balance. You’re slammed to the ground with a harsh thud – pulling a gasp from you.

The knife slips from your hand, the dull sound of it hitting the dirt not too far from your head. Your heartbeat hammers in your throat as your eyes dart to where it landed, but Jeff is already on top of you.

Before you can react, his hands are on your wrist, pinning them to the dirt. The weight of him crushes you, but you manage to buck your hips, throwing him slightly off balance.

It’s enough – your body moves on pure instinct, your arms flailing in the brief chaos of his stunned pause. You scramble to your feet, gulping for air, and your heart racing in your chest.

Your flingers close around the familiar grip of your hunting knife, and you raise it again – trembling but determined.

Smutty part is -> (here)

[witchygagirlwrites]

Consider Me Gone-Part 1

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/ Gerstead x Reader

You know your guys love you but when a case brings up bad memories and they don't turn to you? That makes you begin to doubt yourself, your relationship, everything.

You could still remember the look on your sister’s face when you told her you were deploying. The fear, the apprehension. She was afraid of you not coming home, afraid that if you made it home you wouldn’t be the same woman that left. You knew the risks that came along with the path you chose, you also knew the risks of not taking it. You had to do something with your life and that was the only path you could’ve taken at that point in your life.

When you were tasked to the 75th regiment you’d nearly questioned your commanding officer. There were men and women in the 68W that had a lot more time under their belt than you but he’d been content with your record and next thing you knew your boots were hitting the dirt in Korengal Valley.

When you reported to duty you were introduced to your unit, the men and women who you would be responsible for keeping alive under fire. Two men stood out amongst them. One with sky blue eyes, the other seafoam blue. Both of them equally gorgeous with smiles that would’ve stopped you in your tracks had you met them under different circumstances. They watched you intently from the moment you said your name and the commanding officer told the unit to be welcoming to you because “She’s gonna keep your sorry asses alive” 

It took all of a half an hour before Jay Halstead and Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz were introducing themselves to you. “Mouse huh?” you asked and he’d given you a grin that showed off a set of dimples “It’s a stupid nickname but I’m the first to admit it” you cut your eyes at Jay “How’d he get it?” he winked at you “Oh sweetheart you gotta earn that story” From that day on the three of you always seemed to find each other. 

One day you had just stepped out of the med tent to catch your breath, the scent of blood heavy in your nose. You had lost someone, you knew it was hopeless from the moment he’d been brought in. You hadn’t told him that. The letter in the pocket of your pants felt so much heavier than a folded sheet of paper. He’d pressed it into your hand and begged you to make sure his boyfriend got it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to find air that didn’t burn your lungs on the way down. “Doc, you feeling ok?” you turned at the sound of Mouse’s voice and forced a smile onto your face “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a doctor Gerwitz?” he grinned “You seemed pretty doctorish to me” you shook your head “Where’s your shadow?” he nodded across the way and you spotted Jay talking to Anderson “We just got back in” “Nice to see I’m not having to put either of you back together” you teased and he shrugged “We try our best to stay outta your way”

“The rest of the unit in one piece?” you asked and he nodded “Yes ma’am” both him and Jay always did that. Why, you weren’t sure. “Good, less people in my tent, the better” he nodded “We’ll be back for a few days. If you don’t wanna be alone” “You asking me to spend time with you? Aww that’s adorable” you teased and saw him bite back a grin “You’re a pain in the ass at times, you know that?”

You grinned “You and Jay wouldn’t hang out with me if I wasn’t and I damn sure wouldn’t have lasted this long in the rangers” he laughed “Ain’t that the truth” Jay started your way and smirked when he saw you “If it isn’t my favorite medic. Feel like giving me a once over yet doc?” you shook your head “I’ll sew your lips shut Halstead” he grabbed over his heart “You’re killing me sweetheart, killing me”

Athena, the only other woman out of your unit walked up and shook her head “Easy boys. The only one spending nights with our medic is me” she slung her arm around your shoulders and winked at you “Isn’t that right sugar?” you grinned “Damn right” and busted out laughing at the look on Jay and Mouse’s faces.

You spent two tours in that place. With Jay and Mouse it wasn’t so bad. They were your best friends, never looked at you like you were less because you were a woman and you felt comfortable around them which said alot.

The day you knew you had to get out was hell on earth. That damn convoy still haunted your dreams. Having to pull your unit out the flames, being forced to move on from the ones you couldn’t save and simply stabilize who you could and pray a chopper got there before you lost them. Mouse and Jay were medically discharged and you took your discharge as well. You couldn’t face it anymore. 

You never would’ve thought that the years spent over there would result in you falling in love with those two rangers who were always such a pain in your ass yet here you were. 

You groaned when you tried to stretch but movement was inhibited by two sets of strong arms wrapped around your body. You slowly opened your eyes to see that Jay was curled up to your back, hands holding your hips and face pressed between your shoulders, while Mouse had his arms thrown over your stomach and his face resting on your breasts as pillows.

At least they were comfortable. You shifted, trying to figure out a way from under the mess of limbs when Jay’s hands tightened on your hips and you felt his erection pressing into your ass “Princess, it’s a little too early for you to be making sounds like that and squirming up against me like that”

You shot him a playful glare “If my boyfriends didn’t act like I was going to run away in the middle of the night maybe I could get up to go get coffee” Mouse’s lips teased across your bare chest “Well if it hadn’t taken us years to convince you to want us maybe we wouldn’t be worried”

You turned your head back towards him and he was grinning up at you from where his head was still laid on your breasts. “You two were flirts then when we got home we didn’t see each other for a while then well let’s not talk about then” he moved up to brush a gentle kiss against your lips “No let's not talk about then”  Jay slipped a hand around your neck to gently tilt your head back to him “Let’s talk about now” his lips were feather light but being in their arms were always like a fire being set inside of you. It had been that way since you finally let yourself give in that first time. 

“We’re all gonna be late for work” you reminded and Jay grinned “I set the clock back an hour so we’d have more time” you shook your head “You’re horrible” he shrugged “We love our girl, what’s horrible about that?”

You felt Mouse’s hand slip down between your thighs and when you let them fall open without thought he chuckled “Looking like you don’t care too much about being late love”

By the time you parked at med Will was already texting you asking where the hell you were at. You didn’t dignify your dear brother in law with a response and simply pocketed your phone and headed inside.

When you passed the front desk Maggie smiled “Good morning” “Mornings Mags. Where’s Halstead? He’s blowing me up like I’m not still five minutes before my shift” She looked behind you and grinned. You turned around and glared up at Will “What’s the rush?” his eyes widened “They have baby nurses from the med school here. If I didn’t have you they’d stick me with one of them” you shook your head with a laugh “Oh honey” 

You knew as much if not more than most of the doctors here but you hadn’t had the desire to get the doctor title. Registered Nurse suited you just fine, besides they knew what you could do here. Most of the time you either worked side by side with Will or Ethan. Neither of them ever questioned your call. You waved a hand “Fear not big red. Your favorite nurse is here. Let’s start the day”

He slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug “I don’t know how my brother ever got lucky enough to get you” then pointed you towards his first patient’s room.

_______________

You were just sitting down in the breakroom when your phone chimed with a text from Erin Mollys tonight? Please?? You laughed lightly and texted back I’ll meet you there dear. Let the boys know their choices are either go out with me or I’m going alone

You opened your water and barely got a bite of your sandwich before two texts popped up in the group text thread between you, Jay and Mouse that read We’re coming and Baby, don’t play like that you shook your head and texted back was just giving you options geez

Ethan walked in and sat down across from you, leaning back in his seat. You cut your eyes up “You good Choi?” he nodded “Yeah, just beat” you nodded in agreement. This shift had been back to back. Your lunch break was supposed to be four hours before. You’d managed to eat a pack of the crackers Maggie kept in her desk between running tests but that had been about it. 

“You working tomorrow?” you asked and he shook his head “No, how about you?” you shook your head “No, I’m off for two days? I think.” he looked up “Our schedules sync up then” you grinned “Good, I like working with you and Will” he laughed “That’s just because we both know you’re a trauma specialist you just don’t have the title” you grinned “Exactly”

When you got home Jay and Mouse were already there. Jay was laid across the couch when you walked in and you could hear Mouse somewhere in the house. Jay grinned when you walked in “There’s the sexiest medic that ever walked” 

You shook your head “Easy ranger. Just a trauma nurse nowadays” he reached a hand out so you let him pull you to him, having to straddle his waist to keep from just falling across him. His eyes flickered across you and even in your scrubs, with your hair falling down he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on, then again he’d looked at you like then when you wore ACUs.

His hands gripped your thighs gently “I love you baby” you smiled “I love you too Jay” you leaned down to steal a kiss from him and the moment your lips met you heard Mouse “Oh I go to finish the laundry and get left out”

You looked up from where you were on Jay and grinned “He got me time I walked in, sorry” Mouse shook his head “Thought we agreed a long time ago, we both got her” Jay looked up at him “Can you blame me? Look at my view?”

You shook your head and kissed Jay before climbing off of him. You walked over to Mouse and pulled him into a kiss before checking the time “I gotta shower so I can meet Erin and Kim” That was all it took for Jay to jump up off the couch and Mouse to snap to attention “Want some company?” you shook your head, that was what had taken so long finding this place, a shower big enough for three.

“Come on then. No funny business or I’ll kick you out of the shower” you warned, leading the way to the bathroom and feeling their hands teasing you on the way. “You didn’t say no funny business before the shower” Mouse teased, lips close to your ear.

You walked into Mollys between Jay and Mouse. Jay had your hand in his, his fingers curled around yours and Mouse had his fingers hooked in your belt loops. You’d teased them that you looked like a flight risk. They’d replied that they were just keeping a hand on you. 

When the music hit you along with familiar voices you looked around and spotted the rest of intelligence at the end of the bar, well minus Voight and Al. “There she is!” Erin called and you dropped Jay’s hand and pulled away from Mouse to pull her into a hug. She grinned over your shoulder at the two of them “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep her”

____________________

“I’m just saying, I have seen a t-shirt and some duct tape save a leg” you laughed and Adam raised an eyebrow “Did you do it?” Jay leaned up over your shoulder considering you were currently sitting halfway in his lap “Yes she did”

You cut your eyes back at him “You weren’t even there sir” he shrugged “No but Anderson told me about it” you shook your head and looked back at Adam “Point is in the moment you’d be surprised what could be useful Ruz”

Mouse walked back up with Kevin and the drinks they’d gone after. He passed you your then handed Jay his beer before brushing a kiss against your lips. You grinned then he sat down next to you. “How did you ever get stuck with these two anyways?” “Watch it Lindsay” they both warned playfully. You laughed “They were already a bonded pair, if I took one I had to take the other”

Everyone started laughing at your response but you made sure to lean back against Jay and reach out for Mouse just in case they took your teasing to heart.  “Is that the trifecta?” you heard a voice say and your eyes widened. Only one person ever called you, Jay and Mouse that.

You jumped up from Jay’s lap, He was on his feet and Mouse was too as Athena walked up to your group. She looked how you remembered. Five foot nine, honey brown hair tied up and bright amber eyes. You never did understand why the boys went for you while she was there but you were glad they did. She’d been a heaven sent amongst the testosterone during those days. More than one night had been full of laughter in your shared tent.

“Athena!” you hollered, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly, nodding to Jay and Mouse “Hey boys” Once she let you go she hugged them both. “What are you doing in Chicago? Last time we talked you were in D.C?” you asked because she was stationed at the marshal office there. She nodded “I’m in town working a case. Heard this was a good place to get a drink. Didn’t expect to find my unit here”

“Are we gonna get introduced?” Kim asked and you laughed lightly “Oh Athena this is the unit Jay works in and that Mouse is a tech expert for” you introduced them one by one. She nodded “What about you fireball?” you grinned “You know me, I’m at the hospital” “Trauma specialist?” she asked and you shook your head “Trauma nurse” “Close enough. You know more than any of those M.D.s do”

___________

The four of you caught up a little but then she needed to join the people she’d come with so all of you traded your newest numbers before she left. You noticed Erin and Kim both cutting their eyes at her as she walked off but didn’t think anything of it until Erin whispered “Do we like her?”

You nodded “She’s good” “Are you sure. Cause if you don’t like her, we don’t” Kim whispered and you laughed, making Mouse shoot you a look. You shook your head “You don’t wanna know baby” before telling them both “She’s ok. She was in the same unit as us. The only other woman. She had my back a lot” “Ok” Erin said after a moment and Kim nodded too.

“That was insane seeing Athena again” you laughed, walking into your house. Mouse nodded “Yeah, been a while since we saw anyone out of the unit” “Yeah” Jay agreed.

You tried and failed to stifle a yawn which made them share a grin “I think we need to put her to bed” Jay laughed. “Only if you two come with me” you pouted and they both shook their heads “She’s so damn spoiled. What happened to that medic that used to threaten to sew my lips shut?” Jay asked and you grinned “I figured out I like you being able to use your lip and your tongue and other things”

He cut his eyes at Mouse “I say we make sure she gets a good night's rest. What do you think?” Mouse’s eyes were glued to you “I say that’s a damn good idea”

Two days passed and you didn’t really think too much more about Athena being in Chicago. You ended up pulling doubles at the hospital and Intelligence had just finished wrapping up a drug bust worth a quarter of a million.

You stood at the front desk, rubbing your hand across your eyes. “You good?” Will asked and you looked up at him “Aces” he grinned “I swear you act too much like you’re with my brother at times. You can admit if you’re tired or something” you shook your head “I’m fine Will, really. I need some coffee and maybe some water too then I’ll be good as new” 

He nodded “Do me a favor and add some food somewhere in that mix? I’m gonna get my ass kicked twice over if you pass out on my watch” you grinned at him “Don’t worry if they kick your ass while I’m out I’ll take care of it when I wake up. We have the same base training”

You rotated your neck in a tight circle and got ready to go back to work but your phone started ringing. You pulled it out and saw it was Erin. “Hello?” you answered and her voice was low “Can you talk?” “Yeah, why?” your stomach knotted at her tone. She took a deep breath before saying “They probably wouldn’t want me to tell you but we caught a case that I think may have triggered something for your fellas. I overheard Jay and Mouse talking about Henderson? It sounded like they were arguing and that this case had enough similarities to remind them”

Your hand flew out to the desk to steady yourself. Memories of the shape Mark had been in when he was found flew through your head, how hard you worked to stabilize him and the striking realization that all you had to offer his wife was that after all the hell he suffered he died with a friend at his side. 

You vaguely registered her calling your name twice before April touching your arm snapped you back to the present “Yeah? Um thanks Erin for letting me know. If they start arguing and cause interruptions to the case, call me?” “Of course” 

You hung up with her and looked at April who was staring at you with an unspoken question written plainly across her face “I’m ok April” she shook her head “You know I live with someone who served, right?” you offered her a smile “I promise, I’m ok” she smiled slightly “If you need someone to talk to I’m here and if you need someone who’s been there Ethan is always there for you too” “Thank you” you told her and she nodded “Of course”

She walked off so you slid your phone into your pocket. They would call if they needed you, if not you’d talk to them that night. Mark was a hard spot for all of you. His wife’s cries still haunted your dreams on some nights.

About an hour before you were getting off Jay sent a text in the thread We’re gonna grab a beer after work ok, normally they would have worded that do you want to grab a beer after work. Were they not including you? Just you two? You asked and felt your heart hit your feet when he texted back Thena is still in town so she’s gonna meet us. We won’t be long. We love you 

Was it the memories of Mark’s final moments, the ghost of his wife gripping to you begging you to say it wasn’t true or the slap in the face of knowing your guys were hurting and not seeking you out that forced the tears from your eyes? You weren’t sure but angry hot tears slipped down your face before you could stop them.

“Woah, what’s wrong and don’t you dare say nothing” Will asked and you hadn’t even realized he was standing over you. What were you supposed to tell him? Will loved you like a sister, yeah but Jay was actually his brother. How could you explain you were crying because your boyfriends wanted to get a beer with someone out of their unit? It’s not like they were being sneaky and hid it. They told you.

“Um, bad day Will” you whispered and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Want me to call Jay?” “NO!” you said a little harsher than you meant to. He pulled back and looked down at you “Are you sure you’re ok?” You nodded “Yeah, just had some stuff trudged up. I just need to make another hour, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry the guys”

“If you need me, I’m here” he reminded you with a smile before kissing the top of your head “I am your favorite brother in law after all” you shook your head “Mouse is an only child” he grinned “Even more reason for me to be your favorite” 

Once he walked away you let your face fall. Maybe you were reading too much into it? That was all? You just needed to focus. You couldn’t split attention at work. Lives were at risk.

You parked next to Jay’s truck and took a deep breath. You wouldn’t push. If they wanted to talk to you, they would. God please let them talk to you. 

You grabbed your belongings and headed inside. You needed to start a load of your scrubs. You went through two pairs this shift alone and they had to be washed separately.

_______________

You walked in the door and they were sitting on the couch, watching the Blackhawks game. “Hey baby” Mouse greeted with a smile. “Hey” you replied, moving past them towards the laundry room. “You ok sweetheart?” Jay called behind you and you rolled your eyes to not bite off a comment you may later regret “I need to start a load of my scrubs. I went through two pairs this shift” 

You heard them moving as you walked into the laundry room and turned to see they were at the door “I washed them love. They’re in your dresser” Mouse told you with a smile. “Oh, thank you” you replied, dropping the dirty bag to the floor and pulling the scrubs out to pretreat.

You saw them exchange a look before Jay asked “Did we do something we don’t know about?” you didn’t look at them and just shook your head “No” “How long have we known you sweetheart? We know what that no means” Mouse pushed so you dropped the scrubs in the washer then turned to face them “Nothing is wrong, ok? I had a long day, I’m tired. You two are apparently aces so I’m gonna go shower”

________________

You started the washer then pushed past them to get out of the room. Both of them reached out to grab you, Mouse around the waist and Jay your arm “Uh uh” “What is it baby?” 

You took a deep breath then said “Erin called me about the case. Said you two were talking about Henderson” “Oh” “Oh” 

You nodded slowly “Oh, so we don’t communicate anymore?” Jay shrugged “It’s not that big of a deal. This case, the victim..he was tortured for information” “It was really similar to Henderson” Mouse added. “Are you two ok?” you asked, looking from one to the other. You knew them. Mouse would need to talk it out when old memories were trudged up and Jay would try to bury it all unless you forced him to talk.

“Yeah, that’s why we grabbed the beer with Thena, talk with someone who was there” Jay explained and he could have punched you dead in the gut and it would have hurt less. “Someone who was there?” he realized his wording and looked to Mouse for help on backpedaling.

“Baby he didn’t mean it like that” you shook your head “Fuck it. I need to shower” you stormed past them, shrugging their hands off your body. “Alone”

________________

You could hear Jay and Mouse both outside the door, trying to talk to you but you ignored them, turning the water on as high as you could get it and sinking to the floor of the shower. “Someone who was there” nice to know everything you went through didn’t mean a damn thing. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the salty tears hit your lips. You didn’t try to stifle your sobs. What were they gonna do? Go talk to Athena about it?

______________

When you got out of the shower and dressed you opened the bathroom door to find Mouse sitting on the floor on one side of the door and Jay on the other “What are you two doing?” you asked and Mouse said “Waiting for you, we heard you crying” “I’m fine Greg” you sighed and walked past them to the bedroom.

You crawled into bed, curling up in the middle where you usually slept. They quickly disrobed and climbed into bed on either side of you. “Can we touch you?” Jay asked and you nodded. You felt them slip their arms around you and closed your eyes trying not to let his words play through your head yet again. “I love you sweetheart,” Mouse whispered. “I love you too Greg” 

“I love you princess” Jay whispered and you nodded “I love you Jay” you forced your eyes to close. You desperately needed sleep, maybe you’d feel more clear headed come tomorrow? Maybe you would be able to form calm enough thoughts to approach the whole “Someone who was there” comment without tears or screaming coming into the equation but for tonight you needed sleep.

@desimarie12

@alterna123

[craykaycee]

sneaks onto ur dash to talk ab one of my aus with these magma doodles------

This is a Street Artist AU I-- basically adopted from @starrspice (thank you, lovelyy!!) This is a post-fire AU where the DCA escapes the fire themselves and into the city. They're stripped of the proper prompts and triggers for their childcare and entertainment programming, but are able to find something their coding can latch onto: a group of children who need entertainment. They modified their performance and entertainment programming with their arts and crafts protocols to create art as a performance!

More details (so many details-- I went off xDD) and designs of the AU, of which I've titled "City Lights and Paint Water", under the cut :3c

They're pretty beat-up from the fire, and without proper access to maintenance, they've retained the burn marks, splattered paint, and other grime associated with being outdoors. Over the months as street artists, passersby donate their old paints and other supplies, hence the oversized trousers and worn apron! (P.S.: cloth placement is more accurate in the magma doodles)

Sun and Moon each have preferred mediums and styles!

Sun prefers acrylic paints and spray paint, his paintings a controlled chaos with loud, scattered colors, large brushstrokes, and splatters. His paintings always have a lot of movement due to his freeform painting style, splattering paint and getting a laugh from the kids.

Moon like to work with watercolors and colored pencil, the colors more muted with small pops of brighter colors (such as lights within windows). He likes to capture the lights of the streets, wondering what the true night sky looks like, his art giving a soft and ethereal mood.

Then we have our Main Character (MC), the viewer/reader! They're a graphic designer for a big corporate tech company, tasked with making pamphlets, brochures, posters, et cetera for the company. Though they do good work as a graphic designer, their true passion is fine arts, but their work isn't taken seriously due to its "childish" appearance despite the real-life deeper meanings. In the meantime, they create for themself, crafting and making trinkets for their apartment. They even make some of their own clothes, made up of several different garments to make something one-of-a-kind. Their outfits are fairly chaotic, typically accompanied by a hair accessory, but the patterns and colors compliment each other well.

MC grew up in a rural area, and still love the open and free areas it provides, but they had to move to an urban city for work and better opportunities. It's a big step up from their small town, overwhelmed by the activity. At the start of the story, they feel disconnected from their work, drained by the cookie-cutter bland work of their graphic designer job, but it's the only way they can reliably earn income.

The story starts with Sun spotting MC beyond the crowd, rushing somewhere. He continues to see them in the distance, unable to approach them due to their haste. He's mesmerized by their appearance, drawn to their creative expression just in their outfit. Moon catches a few glances of MC in the evenings, but doesn't have the same draw to them as Sun, figuring them as just another "everyman" in the crowd. One day, in MC's haste, they lose a paper from their portfolio. When Sun catches it, he sees a presentation sheet of several different designs meant for a business card or a t-shirt emblem. Sun is astounded by them, making MC more interesting than they already were.

It's not until about a week later that Sun takes an opportunity to return the paper and give his compliments. When he does this, however, MC's face falls before forcing a polite smile, thanking him. Before Sun could say anything more, they're gone.

There's so many small moments I'd like to explore, but that's the set-up :3cc I nearly have chapter one (1) completed, two (2) chapters after that already planned. The chapter length is pretty short right now, but I don't know if I wanna beef them up or keep them at this shorter length. We'll see! :D

Welp, these are my boios! I hold them gently in my hands and present them like a proud parent

[xoln04f1xo]

Racing Hearts (Part 2) - OP81

Fluff

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

WC: 856

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The paddock hadn’t quieted down after the session, if anything, it had become more alive. Mechanics bustled around, packing up equipment, while team personnel swapped notes and debriefed strategies. You were supposed to be doing the same, but Oscar’s antics had left your focus in shambles. Thankfully, your best friend wasn’t one to let you spiral.

“You’re staring into space again,” a voice teased, cutting through your thoughts. You turned to see one of the junior engineers grinning at you. “What’s got you so distracted? Let me guess... a certain driver?”

“No,” you replied quickly, too quickly. The heat rising to your cheeks gave you away, but you forced a nonchalant shrug. “Just tired.”

The engineer didn’t seem convinced, but before they could press further, Oscar appeared, freshly showered and dressed in team gear. His damp hair was tousled, and the casual joggers and hoodie combination made him look more approachable than the teasing menace you’d dealt with earlier.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re still here?”

You gestured to the camera strapped around your neck. “Still on the clock.”

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Come on, let’s take a walk. You’ve earned a break.”

Your instinct was to argue, there was always more to do, but the way he tilted his head, quietly imploring, made it impossible to refuse.

The two of you wandered away from the main paddock, the noise fading into a distant hum. It wasn’t uncommon for drivers and team members to sneak off for a moment of peace, and you appreciated the reprieve as much as he seemed to. The golden glow of the setting sun painted everything in warm hues, softening the sharp edges of the day.

“You’re quiet,” Oscar noted, glancing sideways at you. “That’s not like you.”

You laughed, though it sounded nervous even to your own ears. “Just trying to figure out how to survive another day without embarrassing myself.”

Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Embarrassing yourself? You’re the most put-together person I know here.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Have you seen me trip over my own feet trying to avoid stepping on cables?”

“That doesn’t count,” he said, grinning now. “It’s part of your charm. Besides, you’re the one keeping this whole social media thing running. No one else could make us look half as good as you do.”

His words were earnest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You’d grown used to blending into the background, letting your work speak for itself. Hearing him acknowledge it so directly was... nice.

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks warm again. “But you’re still trouble, you know.”

Oscar’s laugh was soft, genuine. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

The two of you walked a little further, the conversation flowing more easily now. He told you about the race, the good moments, the tricky ones, and the hilarious miscommunication with his engineer that had him laughing even in the heat of competition. You shared bits about your day, the behind-the-scenes chaos and funny fan interactions that made it all worthwhile.

“I saw that kid with the McLaren flag,” Oscar said, his eyes lighting up. “The one in the grandstands? You got a picture of them, right?”

You nodded. “Of course. It’s already in the edit queue. Thought it might make a good post.”

“You’re the best,” he said simply, the sincerity in his voice making your heart flutter in a way you tried to ignore.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in fiery oranges and soft purples, Oscar stopped and leaned against a low barrier, looking out over the now-quiet track. The moment felt serene, almost fragile, as if the world had paused just for the two of you.

“I don’t say it enough,” he began, his tone thoughtful. “But I’m glad you’re here. It’s easy to get caught up in all this, the pressure, the expectations. But having you around... it makes it feel a little less heavy.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his honesty. “I’m glad I’m here too,” you said softly. “Even if you do make my job unnecessarily difficult sometimes.”

Oscar laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“As if that’s even possible,” you retorted, grinning.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the quiet settle around you. It wasn’t awkward or heavy; it was the kind of silence that felt like a shared secret, a bond that didn’t need words.

“We should probably head back,” Oscar said eventually, though he didn’t seem eager to move. “People might start thinking we’ve run off to start our own team or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Imagine the chaos.”

“Pure brilliance, you mean,” he said, flashing you a grin that made your chest feel lighter.

As you walked back together, the paddock lights coming on one by one, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. For the job, for the laughter, and most of all, for the friend walking beside you who somehow made even the busiest, most chaotic days brighter.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Masterlist Series Masterlist

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire : Chapter 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Group

Notes: Finally it's here! Tumblr is messing up the way the text is posted so yeah… sorry about that. I write on Reedsy but copying it here always makes it look a little wonky. There will be some tags added on later chapters, this to avoid big spoilers.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  1/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun had only just risen in the sky when your half-brother, Cassian, slammed his fist against your bedchamber’s door.

His voice thundered through the wood, “Get up! Father wants to see us!”

You had jerked awake violently, hating that tone that he used far too often.

He hammered on your door again. “Did you hear me?! Get up!”

“Yes-,” You swallowed down your awakened fear to say it louder, “Yes! Coming!”

He walked away from your door, leaving you to get dressed in a haste. As always. Rest was not something that was really granted to you and Cassian enjoyed to take away what little joy’s you had in life. Needless to say, there weren’t any actually left. Your father had been married twice, his first marriage ended when Cassian’s mother died young. His second ended when your mother died after childbirth. Cassian was just two years old when you were born. Your father, Lord Aldith of Ravenwick, blamed you for the death of your mother ever since, so much so that he had refused to even tell you her name no matter how many times you had asked. And had he known that you were born with the same Feyblood as your mother after all, instead of Manblood like him, you doubted he would have bothered to keep you alive for as long as you had. He detested the Fey and you had no doubt that he made your mother hide what she was once he had her fully in his control. You had never told a soul of what you were, the only luck you had was that your markings were not visible to the eye. For a while you had believed to be normal, until you were five, then your whole world changed. It also took some time to fully understand what you were, had you not seen a description that matched you perfectly in a book once you would have never known. Secrets and lies, all of it needed to keep yourself alive, to keep yourself safe from your own family… And even then they still treated you ill.

You pulled your shirt on, wincing at the dull pain from the bruise on your arm. Closing up your bodice hurt your still healing wrist. It were common discomforts you had learned to live with. Once you had tried to run away, just once, and Aldith had send his mercenaries to find you. They had dragged you back to the village, into your home, and tossed you at your father’s feet. He didn’t need them to enact the punishment for your actions, he did that all by himself. The bruises had taken weeks to heal, and ever since that day loud noises and shouts tended to make you flinch.

You rushed to the great chamber of the large manor, the place where the Lord of the village always expected to see you when called upon. After taking a deep breath, you entered the room. Cassian was already waiting impatiently for your attendance, as was Aldith.

“What took you so long to arrive here?” Aldith asked annoyed.

Your head tilted down, eyes fixed on the floor, “I was getting dressed, father.”

There was a scoff, but thankfully he seemed to accept the excuse this time. He pointed to a place on the map that was splayed out on the table. “I am sending the both of you on another errand. The paladins have set up camp not far from here and if the rumors I’ve heard are true then there will be gold present in those tents. Go there, take what you can without being noticed. Ava and Bertram will join you on this task.”

It was true, your father had never earned his wealth in an honest way and expected his children to do as he did. No matter the risk.

“We are stealing from the Church?” It slipped from your thoughts.

Aldith glared your way. “Would you rather starve than earn your keep?”

It was a blatant threat, he was wealthy enough to feed the whole village if he wanted to. But this was your life with them, obey or suffer the consequences. Cassian grinned, clearly enjoying how you were being put in place.

“No, father.” you quietly said.

“No more questions from you then. You do what Cassian tells you to do, understood?”

“Yes, father.”

You knew better than to ask for a weapon to aid in this errand, they would never trust you with one. And you knew not to tell them how stupid you thought it was that they would risk the anger of the paladins, they didn’t care for your opinion. At least Bertram would come along, he was perhaps the closest thing to a friend you had, even if he was just being polite it was more than you were used to.

“Any questions, Cassian?” Aldith asked.

If no one had been present to see it, you would have rolled your eyes at the blatant favoritism. Of course your brother had questions about this task, and your father saw no problem in answering them.

After midday, you sat on the wagon next to Ava. Bertram was steering the wagon, following the directions Cassian was feeding him. The plan was to hide the wagon at quite a distance from the paladin camp, then continue the rest on foot and gather at the wagon again later. In case things went wrong, you were to scatter and meet at the wagon when it was safe again.

You were chewing the small piece of bread Bertram had given you before the group had left the village, was it so obvious to others that your body was growing weaker? Meals were something you had to earn according to Aldith, and it was far harder for you to earn them than it was for Cassian. You said not a word during the entire ride. Ava, a Sky Folk woman and Bertram’s sister, tried to flirt with Cassian quite often. But Cassian looked down on the Fey even if he never spoke it out loud outside the walls of your shared home. To him, Ava and Bertram were just pawns to use.

The wagon came to a halt in the forest on the spot that Cassian had chosen. The four of you got off the wagon and gathered together to walk the remaining distance. It wouldn’t take much longer than an hour and the paladin camp should be reached by the time it got dark. During the walk it became painfully obvious again how little Cassian cared to talk to you, but you didn’t mind, talking to him always ended in being affronted or threatened.

Just before the sun went down, the group reached the paladin camp. The four of you were hiding in the bushes, trying to detect weaknesses in their camp to use to your advantage. Cassian was quick to figure out which tent belonged to Father Carden. And of course, considering the risk of getting caught was the highest, he ordered you to go and steal what was there for the taking. The others picked tents that were closer to the edge of the camp. It always went like this, you were always the one having to take the most risks, because you were expendable. Often it had crossed your mind to just walk up to a paladin and tell them of what you were, to let them end your life and suffering. The only thing offering some consolation were the faint whispers in your ears whenever you thought of it, if you could even call it consolation. It was something you had never spoken a word about, these barely decipherable voices talking to you… people would learn that there was something wrong with you and treat you even worse than they already did.

“Did you hear me?” Cassian’s irritated tone pulled you from your darkening thoughts.

The flash of panic in your eyes betrayed you.

He gave your arm a rough pull. “Get over there and earn your keep!”

With a slight shove, he pushed you towards the camp. You hurried away from him, keeping yourself low and hidden behind the bushes whilst moving towards your target. You had enough experience to stay undetected on your way towards Father Carden’s tent. After waiting for a moment to see if there was anyone inside, you hurriedly made an opening in one of the tent’s walls to crawl under. Crawling over the ground wasn’t your favorite past time, it ruined your already worn down clothing further.

Father Carden’s tent wasn’t as modest as you had believed it to be, there was a large carpet inside that looked like it must have been worth quite some coin. But a carpet was too large to sneak out of the paladin camp undetected. What you were looking for was found inside a large wooden trunk. Hidden between a lot of red robes, you found a heavy ring made of gold and encrusted with red gemstones that you believed to be rubies, this would sure earn you your keep for a while. Just when you wanted to slip the ring into your pocket, the owner of it walked into the tent. Father Carden looked absolutely shocked to see you there and you used that moment to bolt out of the tent. The priest was shouting something that were undoubtedly commands to his paladins. You even ran into one of them and the paladin ended up falling as a result of the collision. It didn’t make you slow down at all, you needed to get out of there. You reached the trees by the time the whole camp seemed aware of intruders. From the corner of your eyes you saw Ava dart into the woods as well. It wasn’t the first time you were caught on one of these errands, but Father Carden and the paladins were not afraid to enact severe punishments. Fey or not, death was an acceptable measure for them. You kept running as the darkness fell over the lands, the advantage of working in a group was that it was far harder for them to catch you if there was more than one target to capture.

The noise from the shouting paladins did not reach your ears anymore after running for quite some time. You began to walk to let your legs rest but still in a fast pace, and not much later Ava found you. Together you walked in the direction of the wagon, whilst she asked you if you were able to find anything worth the trouble, you had shown her the ring in response. The wagon couldn’t be far off anymore, running would have brought you closer to it quicker than walking.

“Stop!” Ava suddenly grabbed your arm, she hushed you when you tried to ask why. She gestured to let you know she had heard something.

You held your breath. She drew her sword. You envied that she had a weapon to defend herself. Another sound came and she spun around, it had come out of the other direction.

“It’s an animal?” She whispered doubtful.

A branch snapped and made you turn to the sound. The voices in your head were growing louder the more you panicked, something in you told you to run but what direction was safe?

It was Ava who made the decision. “We need to run. NOW!”

She followed her own advice right away and you followed her without questioning it. You could tell that she was running in the direction where the wagon was waiting, was she hoping to find the others there to help? That hope was cut short when the sound of a galloping horse gave chase not far behind you. Like a shadow chasing the two of you, the horse closed in, it was terrifying.

“Ava! Look out!” you tried to warn her.

She barely had enough time to throw herself out of the way of the horse’s path. Both of you hit the ground hard. The horse’s rider swiftly dismounted, the sound of steel being drawn made Ava get to her feet immediately. She barely had enough time to ward off the sword lashing out at her. Fear engulfed you both when you realized who the enemy was that you were facing. Father Carden’s most loyal soldier, the Weeping Monk.

Ava did her best to stand her ground but she ended up falling. You prevented him from being able to deliver the killing blow to her by running up to him and grabbing his arm, halting his movements.

“Leave her alone!” It was a rare thing to hear your voice be so loud.

He had thrown you on the ground so fast you didn’t even understand how he’d done it. And still it didn’t stop you from trying to stop him long enough for Ava to get on her feet again. You grabbed hold on his leg, he pulled free just as Ava attacked him. And then she was bleeding, his sword had cut through her sleeve and wounded her. The voice of Bertram rang from close-by, he ran to come to his sister’s aid.

You crawled backwards, away from the fight that ensued. In the darkness it was hard to focus your eyes on the Monk, his dark attire worked to his advantage. It all happened so ridiculously fast. The Monk fought brutally elegant, as if he was the personification of death itself. Bertram hit the ground after being struck by the Monk’s elbow. Ava barely kept her footing against him. You tried to help Bertram back to his feet. And then from the corner of your eyes you saw Cassian, with a rock in his hand.

Cassian struck the Monk just once against the back of the head and neutralized the threat you had been fighting. The Monk was unconscious by the time he hit the ground hard. Everyone was shaking at the sight of him, even then they still feared him as if he was a vengeful spirit that would come to haunt them for this. Cassian cursed and dropped the rock. Bertram was still holding your shoulder for support. Ava held her wounded arm.

“How the hell did he find us?!” Ava questioned out loud, voice shaking.

“The bastard is know for tracking down Fey.” Cassian said irritated, glancing at both of the Sky Folks.

Questions were fired back and forward between them, but their voices faded out in your ears. You were transfixed on the Monk’s face, on the marks he bore beneath his eyes, and understood why they called him the ‘Weeping’ Monk. You couldn’t believe the terrible truth it revealed to you. He was Fey. Cassian was saying something about tying the Monk up, it brought your attention back to the group.

“He’s too dangerous.” Bertram protested.

Cassian would not hear any reasoning. “He’s worth a lot of coin to the many he has crossed. This is the chance of a lifetime, we are doing this. Ava, fetch the wagon. My father will reward us all royally for this.”

Ava was angry with the decision but did as he asked, she was far too eager to win his affection, it would be a while before she would reach the wagon and return with it.

“Get that rope from his horse’s saddle!” Cassian barked the command to you.

This plan was insane. The Monk was far too dangerous to be kept as a captive, but Cassian saw no risks, he only saw the mountain of coins he’d get for the Monk. You approached the horse and the stallion turned his head to you right away, you patted the beautiful creature’s neck and took the rope from the saddle. Bertram met you halfway, so you wouldn’t have to get too close to Cassian, and took the rope. He used it to help Cassian tie the Monk up and to a tree. Your hands were sweating from anxiousness. This was perhaps the worst idea Cassian had ever had and you could only pray that it wouldn’t backfire on everyone involved.

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[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Dragon Pt.2

Pairing(s): Daenerys Targaryen x Assassin!Reader, implied Daario x Daenerys Targaryen

Warnings: gore, blood, rampage, slight fluff, killing

Words:5535

Summary: Daenerys is good on her promise to make you more than a bloodthirsty assassin. She truly molds you into a dragon.

Part 1

Requested by many of you but in particular @alexkolax since they gave me the prompt 😊😊

In a short amount of time, your life had changed considerably. You were now considered one of Daenerys Targaryen’s most trusted member of her small court. Drogon may have been considered Daenerys’ ‘winged shadow’ but you were her actual shadow personified. She made sure to keep you close to her at all times not just for protection but also her genuine fondness of your company.

Growing to know the Silver Queen who was once your bounty, you’d admit you felt the same fondness.

No one would deny the utter beauty of Daenerys, but it was her authentic warmth that initially broke through your mountain high walls you built around yourself. They’d been a necessary growing up with four brothers. You built those walls so that nothing may break them down. Reinforced with your blood and nightmares.

As a child you had never known such kindness in a person. The people you saw on a daily basis were always less than kind and had ulterior motives up their sleeves.

Your own father murdered your mother after your birth. She was seen as defected since she gave birth to a girl. Up until then, she’d gifted your father with strong, healthy boys that were more than willing to carry on their father’s brutality.

He should have killed you right then and there. Despite all of your father’s flaws, he never killed children. Orphan them, yes, but he wouldn’t outright murder them like he had so many others. So he was stuck with you and subjected you to the same training all your other brothers had undergone prior to your existence.

Under their strict tutelage, you learned how to walk before crawling; such was the fury of their instructions that you aimed to do everything perfectly the first time to not receive their retribution. You couldn’t afford to mess up. Throughout your childhood, you aimed to prove to your family that you were just as good as them. And in all honesty, you were. You were the one to receive the best jobs; customers asked for you specifically.

Rage often fueled their actions, ultimately making them blind to reason. Such was the folly of men. You however were level headed. Anger was an inherited trait in you that you were always able to keep at bay until you needed it. You had full control of it and coexisted with it.

Happily you used the violence that festered in your soul to protect her, any means necessary.

You yourself had located the heart of the Sons of the Harpy swarm that was like a plague in Meereen. You’d earned the respect of the older men in her service that day when you slew the handful that had been surrounding you, Daenerys and Missandei. There had been doubt in you whether or not you could hold them off. They were coming from all sides and angles, relentless attempts to try and harm either of them resulted in a loss of a life or limbs.

Drogon was the true savior of the day. Dany took her rightful place atop of Drogon’s back, but not before she pulled you up with her.

Due to your occupation, you didn’t tend to feel the sensation of fear. It was trained out of you by your eldest brother Nakillos.

Being on top of an actual dragon?

You had never known a fear of heights until Drogon took off into the sky

Dany. . . Well you had Dany to thank for saving you. She revealed that she wasn’t just tenderness and warmth, but a force to be reckoned with. When the Dothraki horde accosted the two of you, you knew that you couldn’t slay all of them and get you and Dany to safety. She held your hand though and reassured you that everything would be alright.

She took things under control from then on. And what could you say? You admired the authority that shadowed her sweet features and she truly spoke like someone who had royal blood coarsing through them.

Not once did you regret leaving your old life behind to vow your fealty to Daenerys.

For the first time in your life you actually felt worthy of something. The deadly skills you had in your itinerary could be used for a proper cause instead of mindless hunger for more victims and gold. A monster that would never be satisfied. You cared not for your own happiness or that of anyone else.

Dare you even entertain the prospect that Dany brought so much light and meaning into your life. She had you feeling sorry for your past self that she didn’t know true joy until Daenerys Targaryen offered you her bloody hand.

When thee slave masters threatened to take Meereen from her control, you were right next to Grey Worm in a prompt execution.

First you happily forced them to watch their fleets be burned by her three children. Then you retrieve the specially made dagger Dany had gifted you and dragged it across Yezzan zo Qaggaz's throat. You may have been a little too happy about eliminating her enemies. The hot blood that splashed from their necks and onto your skin livened your own blood. Never had a kill been so delicious.

This was in tribute to your Silver Goddess.

Out of habit you presented the heads of the Slave Masters to her. Her face beamed with approval and delight at your morbid gifts. Even Grey Worm had turned his face away when you started severing head from necks. It was dirty work and not a pretty sight, but something inside of you made you do it. After presenting her with the head of the man who had hired you to kill her, you unconsciously made it a habit of giving her the heads of her enemies.

You promise her to do the same of her enemies in Westeros which had her cupping your cheek in the greatest show of adoration that had you weak kneed. You could tell she wanted to do more than just hold your face, but this was all she allowed herself. Other times when she was proud of you, Daenerys would toy with the Targaryen sigil that was chained around your neck. You never took it off.

The time for Westeros was coming. All she needed was a proper fleet of ships to carry her and the rest of her loyalists. It would be the first time her Dothraki horde had ever been on the water. They remained outside of the city for now along with Daario Naharis and his band of Second Sons.

The relationship between Dany and Daario was an unspoken one but you understood the truth of Daario's longing looks as you had taken his place by Dany's side. While he may have pleasure to offer her, she still preferred you as her personal sworn sword. Maybe it helped that you were also a woman. Either way it made you feel smug that you were superior to both Daario and Jorah in that manner. She didn't even trust Tyrion Lannister as much as she trusted your opinions.

Her council was in the middle of discussing how to build up their fleet and the options that lay in front of her.

You stand by her cushioned seat. Her council room was one of comfortable familiarity with plush chairs and couches. Wine was offered by those who willingly serve her.

Next to her sat Missandei who may as well have been the Westerosi version of a lady in waiting. You liked the former slave girl. She was kind like her queen and incredibly intuitive. Possessing great knowledge of diplomacy and the workings of Essos, Missandei was a great asset to Daenerys.

Across from the three of you were the men: Daario, Grey Worm, Tyrion, and Westeros' own master of whispers: Varys.

When first encountering the dwarf and eunuch, you had nearly killed both on the spot once you learned of their origins. To you, their presence was a threat to your queen and one you would quickly eliminate. They proved themselves to Daenerys and that was enough for you.

Talk of politics always bored you to tears as you stood there, form rigid and still as you took your job very seriously.

The way Tyrion and Varys droned on though about funds and potential allies made your mind drift and your eyes fell on the large window that looked out to the city. Such boredom brought you back to when you and your brothers were called upon your father to report your monthly body count and profit.

Garros, your father and the head of your clan of assassins, hated to give you praise and would spend the rest of the conference scolding your brothers. Why was a woman doing better than them?

Outside you watch the flight of her dragons as they lazily drift through the sky above the great city of Meereen. Since being released from their prison, Rhaegal and Viserion had grown in size but didn't make the mistake like their brother Drogon of eating the flock that belonged to the city. They took their hunting party far away from the city, following their large brother as he showed them better hunting grounds.

Drogon, while still unpredictable, became more docile toward Daenerys. A new bond had been established since she had officially ridden him .

A touch to your arm jolts you back into attention.

Dany only laughs at your abrupt alertness. They men were standing to leave, giving pleasantries to one another and a nod toward you. You stiffly nod back to them and watch them leave.

"Seems like I wasn't the only one bored from their talk." Missandei chuckles and pours a glass of wine for you, your signal that it was okay to relax with them now.

Gratefully you take it from her tan hands and take a sip while sitting between them. That's where they liked you. Since saving Missandei, you had gained her absolute trust. She would even call you 'my friend' when addressing you now. You'd never had a friend before. It was nice.

"I've never been able to follow political discussions." you sigh and let both of them lean against your shoulders. When the men were gone, all three of you were able to be yourselves. You knew it was hard being a woman with immense power. You couldn't let your guard down as any sign of weakness would be taken as an opportunity for those of the opposite gender. Daenerys constantly had to put up a strong front in order to maintain her power.

Dany nods in agreement, the side of her temple presses against your shoulder as she really gets comfortable next to you. Your stomach always flutters when she does such things like that. "Yes, it's not making me look forward to ruling the Seven Kingdoms."

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." You say, a phrase you'd once heard your father say to Nakillos.

Her hand finds your's and gives it a squeeze. She looks up at you from under her long, dark eyelashes. "The crown is not so much a burden, not with the two of you with me."

You and Missandei smile for the both of you were all to happy to serve her.

Missandei gets up and puts her glass on the table. "Well, I must get going."

"Yes, can't keep Grey Worm waiting." Dany teases her causing the poor girl to duck her head in a blush. You giggle, actually giggle, at the obviousness of her affection for the Unsullied commander.

Flustered, she leaves without confirming Daenerys' words to be true.

Still gazing from where Missandei had fled, you smile and shake your head. "I'm happy for her."

Dany's hand hadn't left your's. Instead, her small fingers weave between your own and you feel your own blush creeping up your neck. Every touch from her was scalding. In a good way. "Me too."

Defenses lowering, you close your eyes and concentrate on the gentle rhythm of Dany’s breathing. Everything she did was mesmerizing to you and damnit if you were intoxicated on the way she makes you feel.

These moments were rare where it was just the two of you. Only once when everyone left could you allow yourself to be vulnerable. You allowed yourself these small, insignificant little moments.

At least you tried telling yourself they were insignificant. Always coming up with realistic excuses to avoid the truth that you struggled to face head on.

You like how her hands fit perfectly into your own.

You like the soft, content sighs she lets out every now and then.

You even like how drowsy you got as comfort warms you.

How had you lived for so long without this feeling? It was downright nourishing to every cell in your body.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

Her question has your eyes popping open immediately and a quiet sort of panic seizes you. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked you to stay in her room for the night. Whether it was for comfort or. . . Something else. . . You always ran. You were a coward in that respect. Unable to face what you really desired and fighting the truth of your situation.

Again she looks up at you with those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes of hers. How could anyone be as gorgeous as she was? You didn’t even envy her beauty. Your own beauty had never mattered. You didn’t care what you looked like.

“Your Grace-“

She lifts her head from your shoulder with a scowl that knits her brows together. You hate when that expression is aimed toward you.. The last thing you wished was to displease her. “I told you, you don’t have to do that when it’s just the two of us.” Her hand leaves your’s and it goes up to the three-headed dragon pendant that had its home on your collarbone.

Since she released you, you’re on your feet and taking a step away from the couch. Pressing your lips in a straight line, you take her in. A storm of emotions plays out on her round face. “Dany,” you say softly and watch her become a puddle from you using her nickname “I don’t think that would be proper. I can go get Daari-“

You don’t finish as she stands. “Never mind. You’re dismissed.” She hastily says while turning her back to you. Her meticulous braids having held up all through her tenuous day. You’d spotted the red tips of her ears when she’d turned away from you. You hate yourself for doing that to her.

But her affections were misplaced, you were unworthy of her love.

For that’s how you both felt. You knew. You knew you were hopelessly in love with her. And Daenerys, for some odd reason, returned it tenfold. She showed you in every way possible. Daario was an infrequent guest in her bed now, had been for weeks now. Only on the nights when you turned down her offer did you spy Daario the following morning leaving her room.

Being the ever obedient servant, bow and practically leap at the opportunity to run to the door.

What a coward you were.

You stay on the other side for a while, back pressed against the council room.

You hated yourself as your cheeks burn along with your eyes. You wanted to cry, how pathetic was that? You hadn’t cried since you were a baby.

Highly sensitive ears pickup the approaching echo of footsteps. Hastily, you rub your eyes with your arm and look up to find Daario offering you a sympathetic gaze.

He inclines his head toward where he came from. “Let’s grab a drink, you and I. Yeah?”

Arrogant prick he may be, but you had to admit that you actually liked the Tyroshi. He had a charm to him, you’d give him that.

You nod. “Okay.”

“Oh just give into it already!” Daario slaps you on thee back enthusiastically once you were three drinks down. “You’re a pretty girl, she’s gorgeous, the two of you would have plenty of fun! And of course you can add me into the mix every so often.”

You snort out a laugh and shake your head. “You make it sound so easy. I’m a creature that is not used to things like love and sex. I’m not even used to physical contact but with her, she can do whatever she wants to me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Except fuck you apparently.”

Your face burns again and you know it’s not just from the drinks he poured down your throat. “I’m. . . I’m not pretty.”

“Yes you are. In a scary way. It’s sexy!”

The anxious feeling that was growing in your burst when he said that. You laugh exuberantly and Daario follows suit.

Then came back his more compassionate side that humbled him. “I only know a fraction of your past and what you’ve suffered.” When you shoot him a dubious look, Daario explains “Oh come now, even I know of you and your family. I’ve even met one of your brothers. Real twat he was.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. They’re all twats.” You comment making him chuckle in agreement.

“Comparing you from how you were when you first came here. . . I know you’re capable of love. I would have called you a monster back then. Before I got to see a peek of the real you.” You wouldn’t have considered Daario as astute as he was.

Maybe you could even consider him a friend like Missandei.

You ignore the smile that wanted freedom to be expressed on your lips. Instead you bring another drink to your lips.

“You sell yourself short. Enjoy in the pleasure our queen can give you. If it’s me you’re really worried about, don’t worry; what you and Dany have is more than lust.”

Now you were the one to roll your eyes at his ridiculousness. It was an endearing ridiculousness though. But if he could see the devotion you and Dany showed for one another, then everyone else could too. Tyrion, Varys, Missandei and maybe even Grey Worm.

“Love is the death of duty.” You murmur, eyes going dark from your turmoil. “She is my weakness. I can’t have weaknesses. You understand, right?”

Daario sighs not out of exasperation but out of melancholy. “Oh (y/n). They really did a number on you, didn’t they? No, love is what makes you stronger. It’s the fuel you reach for when you have nothing else left in the world. It’s a powerful weapon if you know how to wield it.”

You thought about what he told you long into the night until you went to bed. Your sleep was always dreamless. Preferred over having to endure more grief during unconsciousness.

Due to drinking so much the previous night, you slept far longer than you normally did. You woke up to Missandei shaking you.

Her eyes are wild, desperate even with tears unshed in her brown eyes. “She’s missing. Dany is missing.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. Her words float around in your brain before fully understanding what was going on.

Then you merely saw red. “Show me.” You knew there had to be a last known location. Security for Daenerys was of utmost importance to all of her council. It was impossible for her to go missing out of the blue.

You didn’t bother to change out of the clothes you wore the previous day. Missandei led you to her private chambers where the rest of her small council was congregated.

On her pillows was the bloody head of a lamb. Poor thing’s tongue was sticking out from the corner of its mouth. Dark eyes still open and staring blindly.

Your blood ran cold.

This was not a random abduction. It was deliberate. You knew exactly who did this.

The head of a lamb was your eldest brother’s signature. What a narcissistic dick.

You couldn’t breathe, merely staring wide eyed at it. No one had ever seen your face in such a state. It confirmed Tyrion’s worry. Powerful enemies had their queen.

Only Daario caught your gaze and really understood. He nods as you slip out the door. Missandei moves to go after you but Daario holds her back and whispers in her ear.

Furrowing her brows, Missandei watches helplessly as you make the long way ought of the pyramid and into the city. To get the answers you want, you had to go to the harbor. That’s where all rumors blossomed. Where you would get the most information.

A demon had overcome you and was now in control of your body. The only thing on your mind was finding the culprits that took your queen from under your nose. You blame yourself for not taking up her offer. Your brother would have never been able to take her if you were present.

It had to be Nakillos. If he wasn’t still in the city then he was close. You had to be quick and follow his scent.

The harbor master, while initially denying anyone with the description you gave, gave in once you showed him the savagery of your interrogation process. He only had two fingers left on his right hand before he finally caved in and told you all of what he knew. Nakillos and two other men had indeed been through the harbor.

You followed all hints. Anyone who refused to give you the information you craved was tortured until they submit to your will. You didn’t know what the members of Dany’s small council was doing, but you didn’t waste anytime in your rampage. You knew how the unsavory underworld of Essos worked. Knew all the ins and outs of even Meereen. How else could you possibly have found the nest that belonged to Sons of the Harpy.

A blood lust like this hadn’t risen in you since slaying the slave masters.

You went on a rampage as you scoured Meereen for Dany. Driven by pure rage.

By the end of the day, you’d found where your brother was staying as well several of his lackeys. You’d learned that your father had died a few months ago leaving Nakillos as sole heir to his empire which he took great advantage of.

He’d always resented you as he had been the one to bear the brunt of your father’s resentment since he was the eldest. Your father was not easy on him when you brought back better reports than him. And when you step into his makeshift lair, you see that he hasn’t changed one bit.

His face was the spitting image of your father, if not a bit younger than you last remember.

Gagged and in chains was Daenerys he glared daggers at him, unaware of the affiliation you had with this scum of the earth. They had taken over an entire building for this confrontation.

When she spots you, her lavender eyes glimmer with hope.

Nakillos leans forward with a terrible smirk. “Happy for you to finally join us.” His eyes scanned your body, drinking in the red stains on not just your clothes but also the skin of your arms. You hadn’t bothered to clean yourself up.

“I believe you have something of mine, brother.” Your words are clipped revealing the level of your patience which was none.

Dany’s eyes widen, shooting toward Nakillos whose grin only broadens.

He stands up, towering at almost seven feet. Anyone else would be scared, intimidated even. Never you though. Each step he takes toward you is a heavy thud.

“You’ve grown soft, (y/n).” He comments with a tilt of his chin. “It was quite easy to find news about you and your whereabouts. Not to mention that you’re now in league with the Targaryen cunt.”

You internally bristle at that snide remark but keep your features a void canvas. It pissed your brothers off the most when you didn’t react to their taunts.

That hadn’t changed either. His lip pulls up in a snarl.

His weapons are strung to not just his back but his hips as well. All assassins had a great arsenal of weapons no matter what the occasion.

His men seemed to close in on you so you were now stuck in a circle with your brother. Daenerys muffles words that were covered by the strip of fabric that wrapped around her head and blocked her mouth.

“You’re a fool to come here all by yourself.” Nakillos spits out while reaching behind his back to retrieve a blade from the sheath across his shoulder blades. “I’ll do what our father could never do: end you.”

In a monotone voice, you reply “You can try. Like you have so many times before.” Your own blade easily slipped from your sleeve to your hand. You too had quite the instruments hung off of your belt; some already stained with a crimson substance.

He’d been a bastard to you all your life. You would not mourn killing him.

On light feet, you sped forward; catching him off guard. Nakillos raises his arm, sword coming up to his defense. But your other hand though also wield a blade that he hadn’t seen until the last second.

You were able to slice a large chunk of his thigh and side before he slides away and begins his own onslaught.

Nakillos always favored in throwing his weight around. He did it with your three other brothers and yourself.

All of them lacked the speed and dexterity you had.

You lean way too back in an attempt to avoid the tip of his blade. Forced to complete a flip to guarantee your survival, you’re quick to block another blow from his sword. While you were confident in your own skills, Nakillos wasn’t your father’s heir for no reason.

Each of his offensive moves screamed of Garros. Like you were fighting your father instead of your brother.

He sliced at your shins then tried to slice your belly open in an upward strike with his right hand. Garros had trained all his children to use both hands with equal efficiency. It was one of the best ways to fight.

Even though it meant getting your ankle cut, you swiftly kick him in the face. Ignoring the searing pain that shot through your system. You clench your back molars to the point that they may crack under the pressure.

Nakillos is sent spiraling to the ground but he doesn’t so much as flinch. Blood trickles from his nose that he ignores to dodge you.

It was clear the both of you were equal in hand to hand combat.

You knew you had the upper hand though. Because you were fighting for her. For your Silver Goddess.

You let that quiet anger in you out of it’s cage. It stretched it’s legs before making your vision and thoughts go black.

You fed it with the blood of your brother.

Remembering every single time he was cruel to you. How he smashed your head into the ground and broke your arm when you were ten and one. Nakillos reveled in smacking you around. He even went so far as to have you train an entire day with glass in your boots.

Not realizing you were screaming until the fog in your brain cleared, you saw the damage you did already. His arms were cut up and there was a deep gash to his side that he held onto. The hand around his wound was already dripping with red.

Your own knuckles were covered in cuts varying from deep to superficial. That was the only area on your body he’d been able to scratch.

It made him furious. He let out a roar and charged. You wait until the last minute to fall off to the side and trip him with your foot.

When he fell face first into the floor, you leapt atop of his back and tried to stab deep into his spine. Nakillos however had enough strength and speed to flip himself over from underneath you.

He headbutts you right in the face.

Stars fill your vision as you tumble back. Your head was warm as you force yourself to regain your composure. In that time, Nakillos takes a swing at you that makes a large gash from shoulder to shoulder.

You feel the back of your head bounce off of the ground. At least your vision cleared for you to watch Nakillos sinks one knee on either side of your body.

He’s laughing a bit hysterically at your dazed eyes. “Did you really think it would end with me?” Nakillos smacks you across the face with the back of his hand as you struggle under him. “Even if you kill me, the others will come after you and your silver haired bitch.”

“Then I will do to them what I will do to you: I’ll kill them and present their heads to my queen on a gold platter.” You spit blood right into his eye and stab your blade into his cheek.

He howls, a horrible noise as he flings himself from you. His hands trembling to his face. The handle of your knife stuck straight out.

You didn’t waste time. Ripping a metal wire garrote from your belt, you swiftly loop it around his neck as you dance behind him. He gags before a horrible wet noise rakes from his throat. You tighten your grip and pull.

Nakillos kicks and fights against the sharp wire that was cutting into his neck. His fingers desperately dug at his muscular neck.

The others didn’t move, only watched in horror. They weren’t allowed to move due to Garros’ stupid code. One did not interrupt a fight. No matter who was winning or losing.

You grit your teeth as you viciously jerk back. It cut into arteries and veins alike producing a spray of blood to spring forth. His body is still jerking until you give the garrote one last twist.

Then all movement stopped.

Letting his body fall to the ground, you take a moment to finally get a proper breath. When you open your eyes back up they find Dany’s. Her face surprised you.

Instead of being in horror like everyone else, her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were flushed. Daenerys was breathing laboriously. Her pupils were blown out from the scene.

You take up your blade once more and get to the messy task of cutting into Nakillos’ neck; severing skin, muscle, bone and tendon. They left you to your macabre work although you didn’t miss the low murmurs.

Forced to switch out blades three times, you finally were able to lodge his head free. His skin was slippery from the red loss of his life.

You go to Dany who is smiling at you.

“Sorry I don’t have a gold plate for this one, but I hope you’ll accept it.” you get down on your knees and offer it up to her.

Her eyes were starting to fill with tears as she smiles happily down at you. Dany’s fingers brush against your stick ones when she moves to take the head from you. She tosses it aside and with both of her bloody hands on either side of your face, she kisses you.

You don’t fight back. Not this time. Daario was right. Why were you fighting? Because of fear? That was stupid.

Her lips were deliciously soft despite their hungry claim on your mouth.

Someone off in the distance clears their throat and you turn around in annoyance.

“You’ve killed your brother.”

“Clearly.” You scoff.

“Do you know what that means?” Another intervenes.

The first man takes back the conversation. “By right you are now leader of Garros’ clan. You defeated the eldest fair and square. All his money and land belong to you as well as his men.”

You wave them all off. “Split it amongst yourselves and my other brothers. I don’t care.” Quick hands already had Dany’s gag off and her bounds cut. “Just as long as none of you step foot in Meereen again.” Flicking up deadly eyes, they nod and don’t fight you as you leave to go back home.

There was arguing in the council room when you and Daenerys returned. Both of you had been quite the sight walking through the streets.

Daario was off to the side, watching them all with a bored expression before he noticed you and Dany. His eyes widen at the both of you drenched in blood but he smiled.

“We’re wasting time-“

“Where is (y/)?!”

“Are the Harpies resurfacing again?!”

Daenerys clears her throat loudly and everyone turns around. “Hello, sorry for the trouble but as you can see I am fine.”

Tyrion gawks. “The. . . The blood. . .”

“Not mine.” She’s all smiles as she brings you to her side. “But (y/n) and I will be requiring a bath. Together.” Daenerys looks at you with hopeful eyes.

This time you don’t say no.

[lil-oreo-cookie]

Happy TEN YEAR Anniversary to Star vs the Forces of Evil!!⭐️🦋❤️

Because it’s been ten years I wanted to do something really special for the anniversary. I’m currently working on the first 20 chapters of Mending a Broken World, a prefic (establishing fic) for the Septarsis-Dragonfly AU that dives into the direct aftermath of Cleaved and properly introduces and establishes the secondary protagonist of my AU, Ovelia Dorothy Dragonfly. It essentially covers important events of the three years before Toffee is accidentally revived!

Because of it being the Anniversary of the SVTFOE, here are first ~1500 words of Chapter 1, “When Worlds Combine”

(Subject to change when the final is released)

~~

July 3rd, 2017

If cities in California had a list based on a reputation of dull, monotonous days and a drab population, Echo Creek would be near the bottom. Echo Creek earned a strange reputation among its neighbors because of tales ranging from the 1846 Bonner Party's war against opossums, to the bizarre 1951 community requesting residency, to the peculiar behavior of its residents. The weird, wild, and wacky were commonplace within its borders; citizens didn’t bat an eye at happenings and incidents that would concern the rest of the world.

But today was different. Today was entirely out of the ordinary for Echo Creek, and its citizens had taken notice.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

The sun glowed in the afternoon sky, its rays beaming joyously onto all who visited Echo Creek’s famous pier. Patrons skipped along the boardwalk, spending the day engaging in various carnival games, thrilling rides, and the expanse of delicious food stands and restaurants. Their laughter and conversations traveled all the way to the secluded edge of the pier, where only a small bench sat, with space for barely two people. It was the perfect place to sit and stare at the expanse of the ocean and soak in the peaceful tranquility of the waves. The quiet space brought so much relaxation that it was surprising to not be more of a highly coveted spot among the pier’s patrons. The place was almost always empty, as the distant thrill of the pier’s many attractions was much more interesting to the general public.

A lone figure sat on the bench, one that savored the temporary solitude the edge of the pier brought her. Seventeen-year-old Ovelia Dragonfly had made a habit of visiting here multiple times a week for the last few months, disappearing into her thoughts for hours at a time. She hunched forward, her fingers clutching the bench as she closed her eyes. The summer breeze swept through palm trees and grass, gently blowing her brown curls and moonladen skirt. She steadied her breaths, inhaling the salty air as waves crashed against the support beams below the platform. The mix of rippling waves overlapping one another as they raced to shore and the occasional call of a California gull sounded together in a predictable, relaxing rhythm.

But that calming rhythm couldn’t reach her today. Ovelia closed her eyes tighter, grimacing in frustration. As much as she yearned for her mind to quiet, the chatter of the people behind her rang louder and louder. The more prominent it became, the faster her leg would bounce. The ocean of voices was far more noisy than the sea before her. Her hands slid from the bench to her lap as she pulled down her skirt, inhaling deeply and patting her thighs for comfort. She opened her eyes as she released the air in her lungs, staring at the endless ocean curving over the horizon. At this time of day, the sun hit the water just right, and the foam shone as glittering diamonds reflecting off the water's surface.

Coming to the pier at this time of day was a mistake. She knew it would’ve been quieter back home, but that would entail being surrounded by memories that made her heart ache deeper than it already was. Both places she bounced between caused her misery. It didn’t help that the shore was already a sensory nightmare for her–with terrible aversions to the grittiness of sand and the cold spray of sea mist–made worse by the time of day. Why did she continually think coming here was a good idea? If it was nighttime, she could at least stargaze.

She straightened her back suddenly, a lightbulb going off in her head, and fumbled beside her for her telescope.

“Oh, of course! Why didn’t I think of it before?” she exclaimed to herself. It didn’t matter what time of the day; her wand could provide a gorgeous view of the celestial sphere.

She quickly stood to her feet and scampered to the edge. Tightening her loose, low ponytail, she extended her telescope and brought it to her eye. She clicked a button on the side, and the day immediately turned to night within the telescope. Brilliant stars enveloped her vision in a vast expanse of the night sky. She quickly and easily identified Venus before her attention turned to the constellations she could see. Orion and Ursa Major were the easiest to spot, but she soon tracked down Ursa Minor, Canis Major, Andromeda, and even Pisces barely peeking out from the horizon. Ovelia became lost in identifying all the constellations and stars she could spot. She identified the star cluster of Pleiades and even the almost indistinguishable Uranus. She played with the settings on her telescope, searching for anything new she hadn’t yet uncovered and gaining clearer views of what she already had.

A small remembrance of her grief twinkled between the stars, and Ovelia gulped in a breath. She was here to take her mind off of everything that happened in March, not think about it. Astronomy was her favorite thing! She couldn’t bear to allow painful memories to ruin it for herself. She glanced back to one of the constellations she’d spotted before, watching the stars that comprised it glimmer. The brilliance of the celestial sphere pulled her right back in.

She internally calculated the positions the stars would be in by nightfall. While she already knew the positions by heart, she still enjoyed the thrill of the mental approximation of their positions mathematically. She’d rather fill her thoughts with numbers and equations related to her favorite pastime than any noise or memories bogging her down.

She became lost in the only thing that brought her joy. Her mind was distracted, and nothing could spoil this moment.

Just as she became immersed, her telescope's breathtaking cosmic panorama vanished—an abrupt cut to nothingness that stopped her thoughts dead in their tracks. She recoiled, lowering the telescope to inspect it nervously.

“Wait, what?” she clicked it back into place, smacked it against her hand a few times, and peered again into the lens. There was just an empty, dark abyss. She turned the telescope over and peered inside the crystal, only to widen her eyes in horror as the crystal combusted and shattered into pieces. She reflexively dropped it and nearly tripped over her own feet backing away. The ghostly spirit of the wand’s millhorse rose from the shattered crystal and cried out in agony. She covered her mouth and trembled as it circled her head before running into the distance. Unable to comprehend the scene before her, she stared after it, her eyes wide, a chill running down her spine.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Ovelia hadn’t thought about the Whispering Spell in ages, much less performed it at that moment.

She glanced back and forth between the broken telescope wand and the horizon, where the millhorse’s spirit had vanished. After gulping a breath, she scooped up the wand and fled toward the pier’s parking lot. She fumbled for her keys as she maneuvered her way through the crowds. When she reached her car, she jumped inside and sped off down the highway toward home. She drove with reckless abandon. There was no telling what had just happened, and without her mother or grandmother, who were far wiser in magic, to guide her, she had no one to turn to. The only other magic user in their family was her sister, and being the youngest meant she’d never used the wand.

She reached the house far quicker than expected. She lept from her seat and sprinted to the porch, swinging the door open. The door slammed against the wall with a thud, shaking the entire house.

“Elodie!” Ovelia cried out desperately.

“Oh my god! What the hell is the problem that made you barge in here?” Elodie replied agitatedly, thundering down the stairs. Ovelia gripped harder on the door handle, kneeling over and fighting to catch her breath.

“The wand! It- It’s-” her eyes were misty, and her sentences were barely coherent. Elodie emerged into view, perturbed and confused, her arms folded across her chest. Upon seeing Ovelia flustered and terrified in the doorway, pulling on loose curls, her posture softened and replaced with concern.

“Lia, are you okay?”

“What’s happening out here?” Their grandfather, Ray, hobbled out of his bedroom, supporting himself with his cane. He rubbed his swollen eyes and put on his glasses before focusing on his granddaughter. He straightened his back, concern clouding his face. “Sweetheart, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost! Aren’t you supposed to be at the pier?”

“The–the wand! I don’t know what happened, but I was at the pier stargazing and-!” Ovelia shoved the wand toward them desperately. “It just shattered in my hands! The millhorse became a ghost and flew off!”

[cliowo]

In this essay, i will explain the reasons why sky children of the light has become an increasingly unwelcoming game to new players and veterans alike-

Yeah yeah i usually only share my words here but tumblr feels like a really comfy place for me to share unfiltered thoughts and i needed somewhere to vent ig (skip if you have no idea what I'm talking about)

When I first started playing in prophecy, sky was a really fun game. We didn't have the request for a guide function then and I'm actually really grateful for it because the joy was in exploring each of the different realms and season areas on my own and randomly stumbling across spirits whose stories were waiting for me to discover. Maybe it was because I was a dumb moth - i didn't even know how to access seasonal spirits trees - but the pressure to cr just wasn't as intense as it is for moths today. The back to back seasons and "days of" events seem to have sucked the fun of exploring the world of sky for moths because they're so focused on grinding for candles/hearts/event currency that they just dont slow to smell the in-game roses anymore. And the thing is I get it because there's just so many new cosmetics as well as older ones from past seasons and events to farm for.

I mean sure you don't have to collect every cosmetic but 1 cape costs like 70 candles on average, same for a pair of pants iirc, a prop/acessory at 40-70 candles (70 if its an instrument??) , and hair at around 40-50 candles; and the best part is you can only earn 20-21 candles max in 1 reset 🤡 Add all of that plus the need to look for event currency in fear of facing such prices in the event rerun and you get stressed out moths facing existential crises every 2 weeks when ts arrives😀 Sorry moths, the economy is bad irl and just as bad in sky.

And what of the veterans? Yeah, well, we get no friends as everyone starts to quit the game and those that stay live off copium revisiting the places we once visited with friends- Or maybe that's just me

New friends, you say? *cue flashback to moths begging for help with cr* we exchanged like maybe 5 sentences max at chat benches🥲 i have nothing against helping out but it does make it difficult to form a bond when they disappear right after and you fade into their constellation of ubers

And then we have the seasons.

... Honestly the only season that made an impression with me after aurora was the recently concluded season of the 9 coloured deer, which was also another collab season💀

I actually had to check the sky wiki for this:

Remembrance - ironically very forgettable. What was the story again? Was it the one with the group of spirits living in one specific hole in vault like why- vault is bigger than that sad hole- OH THE PLUSHIES okay maybe this one was passable... im trying okay

Passage - ??? Havent finished this season's quests so uh- so far it seems like... a cult..? In isle...?

Moments - if they wanted a camera in-game, they could have just added it to like the days of sunlight event (the camping one) or smtg. They did not have to force a season for a camera💀 imho the camera was the only thing worth mentioning abt this season and i don't even take pictures

Revival - i suppose aviary is pretty and it's nice that the spirits have somewhere to stay now. Not particularly impressed. Don't really remember the story in this one.

...i heard rumours of a furniture season after the 9 coloured deer. Looking forward to hearing what they'll name this one lmao

The quality of "days of" events is still acceptable to me. Just maybe ignore the numerous iaps and the fact that we have multiple umbrellas but only 1 is f2p (don't understand whats up w that btw)

And also the recurring bugs💀 I've been playing for at least 3 years and I've faced these bugs/problems multiple times:

1. Unable to light frends constellations because the screen just yeets itself into oblivion or some random environment feature where i cant press the button

2. Game crashes (after every update istg-)

3. Splitting servers

4. Sky discrimination and gate keeping, aka refusing to let me open the game

5. Being unable to collect currency/dailies (it's not my internet i checked)

The lack of compensation is another matter entirely

I don't know man I'm tired. The only reason why I still have it installed is because it's my only link to the people I used to have fun and relax with. Not everyone has discord or insta or some other social media.

If you made it this far thank you for coming to my ted talk. Feel free to leave your thoughts- just remember to be respectful

Tldr:

The sky economy is bad. For everyone. Moths (and maybe even vets) are stressed out and vets are losing friends. The seasons are increasingly dull and the long-lived bugs are frustrating.

[wingsofhistory]

Introduction: Lewis "Fundy" Callum

Flight Lieutenant Lewis Callum is the main character of Wings of History. From the forested heights of New Brunswick, Canada, Callum is a very successful pilot of the Royal Canadian Air Force.

Born in 1915, Callum belonged to a family of foresters who lived just south of Riverview Heights, in the emerging Greater Moncton area. Eager to learn about beyond the skies, Callum started his aviation career at the young age of 16, after becoming a member at the Moncton Flying Club (today, the Moncton Flight College). One of his earliest memories in the sky includes him getting lost on a flight over the Bay of Fundy, to which he earned his callsign. Boring.

Hoping to become a land surveyor, Callum's world took a turn as he took an opportunity to join the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1933. Upon finishing the training program in 1937, he was posted with No. 1 Squadron out of Trenton, ON. He simultaneously gained a degree in mathematics during these years.

In 1939, Canada declared war on Germany after the Invasion of Poland. In the steps of the United Kingdom, it became clear that Callum was soon to be involved in this conflict. No. 1 Squadron was moved to the United Kingdom in order to support the RAF in their air war. His talents in aviation would soon come to light as the Battle of Britain came to play, successfully gaining his first 11 kills. In one incident, he marked himself in history as an ace in a day after claiming 3 Heinkel HE-111s and 2 109s in one go, successfully landing him a nomination for a Distinguished Flying Cross. He was promoted in 1942 to his current position.

Callum was almost put on the chopping block in 1943, as his eyesight started to deteriorate. His DFC gave just enough reasoning for them to keep him on the board. Whew! In his free time, Callum writes poetry, and keeps a journal (which seems to keep getting stolen).

Leading up to 1944, Callum would participate in a few hundred sorties, racking up some 300-400 hours of combat flight time. HIs total came up to 19 shot down, just before March of 1944. To this day, he continues to soar above the surly bonds of earth, and dance on laughter silvered wings.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober Day 30: Free Use- Sif

Summary: Loki gifts you to Sif for her birthday

Word count: 1, 858

Earth crushed beneath Sifs feet as she walked across the training ground, the moon high in the sky as she spotted Loki on the other side of the grounds. She gave him a confused look as she saw a gorgeous woman standing beside him.

“Loki, what are you doing here and who is this?” She narrowed her eyes questioning him.

Her questioning was met with a sly smirk from both Loki and the woman.

“This lovely woman is y/n, and I am here because she, is your birthday present for all of tomorrow.” He smirked down at the woman, the hand around her hip tightening.

“What are you talking about, Loki?” She continued to question, now getting a little annoyed.

“Well y/n here is a good friend of mine, and a very talented whore. I have spoken with her and she is your gift to use as you like for all of your birthday tomorrow.” He confidently explained, both of you with a matching smirk.

“How do I know this is not just one of your tricks, Loki?” Sif asks, eyebrow quirked and crossing her arms over her chest.

Her skepticism caused both you and Loki to chuckle.

“Come to the library tomorrow morning and see for yourself. No tricks, I promise.” He told the warrior, winking as he walked away with you wrapped in his arm.

******

Sif was on guard as she walked to the library, expecting this to be another one of Lokis games, but as she sees you sitting on the couch in just your undergarments and a pretty bow around you, she started to think differently. She eyed you suspiciously as she walked over to you.

“What has Loki done to you?” She asks, interrogating you slightly.

Her continued suspicions cause you to let out a sweet giggle.

“Prince Loki has done many things to me in our time, but nothing I haven’t fully consented to or desired. It was actually I who suggested being your birthday gift. You have me for the whole day and we can do whatever you desire, my lady.” You sooth her rushing mind, but speed up her heart.

You are now standing very close before her, your chests almost touching. Still not fully grasping her gift, you take one of her hands and place it on your hip, then taking her other hand and place it on your cheek. Staring into her eyes seductively you turn your head and kiss her palm.

“I’m yours to do with whatever you desire.” You whisper to her seductively.

As if the pieces had finally come together in her mind, Sif leans forward and crashes your lips together in a hungry kiss. With both hands now on your hips, she digs her fingers into your soft flesh, while your hands card through her hair. Her kiss is hungry and powerful as she brings one hand to your ass cheek and the other to your back, forcing you further onto her body.

****

After quite a heated makeout session in the library, Sif told you to dress and pick a book of your choosing. While she definitely wanted to enjoy how skilled you were at your profession, she also just wanted a quiet day away from everything.

Once you arrived down at the river on the outskirts of Asgard, Sif instructed you to strip down to your underwear and read, just wanting to look at you for a bit. You watched Sif swim naked as she watched you read (or pretend to read) with you chest on full show for the female warrior.

Exiting the cool water, Sif walked over to you. The water droplets shined on her skin like diamonds, making her appear as some beautiful vision. She smirked at you as she gently placed you to sit between her legs, your book now placed off to the side.

Her hands came down across your bare stomach, lightly tracing patterns along your skin. Slowly her fingers began to tease the waistband of your panties, sweet kisses coming down on your neck as she pushed her fingers further into your underwear.

Once her fingers reach your eager wet pussy, you let out a light gasp, earning you a chuckle from the warrior behind you.

“Though you and Loki gifted you to me for my own pleasure, it would be a great gift indeed to hear what sweet sounds I can make come out of you. Now spread your gorgeous legs for me.” She seductively whispered in your ear.

As you spread your legs, her fingers ran along the length of your pussy, gently rubbing at your clit every time her fingers reached the top. Soon enough her focus was solely on your clit, pressing down and rubbing it in rhythmic circles. Sif kissed and bit at your neck and ear as she continued playing with you, she wanted your sweet noises and that’s exactly what she got. With every moan she brought out of you, she gave you an approving hum.

Sif was not just a skilled warrior but it seems also a skilled lover, her skilful fingers bringing you to your peak quickly.

“Cum for me.” She whispered in your ear, her fingers speeding up as your body twitched and a loud moan left your lips, head thrown back onto her shoulder.

“I can see why you are Lokis favourite, I can’t wait to see your other skills. For now though, take off the rest of your clothes and join me.”

The strong warrior holds out her hand for you to stand on shaky legs. Removing your underwear she grasps your hand tighter as she leads you into the water.

As soon as you were both up to your chests in the water of the river, Sif made quick work of dragging you into her arms, holding you under your thighs as she devoured your lips once again.

Your hands made their way through her hair, tugging on it as you began to grind into her. Sif made a deep moan as she parted from your now swollen lips and began nipping and sucking at your neck, her hands beginning to knead your ass.

“I think it’s time you show me those skills Loki was talking about.” Sif breathlessly whispered in your ear as she let you back down into the water.

Leaving the water again, Sif winked over her shoulder at you, as she lay down onto the grass, legs spread and waiting. Understanding what she was asking for, you quickly make your way out of the water.

Kneeling between her spread legs, you begin to gently caress up and down the length of her pussy, collecting her wetness as you go.

“Would you prefer I use my tongue or my fingers, Lady Sif?” You ask her seductively as you stare directly into her eyes.

“Show me all the skills you possess, sweet one.” She answers, biting her lip in anticipation.

Not needing to be told twice, you smirk down at her as you begin to kiss down the length of her body. Starting at her breasts, you pepper sweet kisses and nibble over the delicate skin, sweet moans leaving her parted lips as you lick at each nipple. Your kisses and bites continue down her abdomen, over her hip bones and down towards her inner thighs, making sure to avoid her pussy for now.

As you look up to the beautiful warrior, you can see the way she looks down at you in slight frustration, playing with her own nipples and moving her hips to try to gain any friction.

“I believe I told you to show me your skills, not avoid touching me.” She half heartedly scolds.

“Patience, Lady Sif,” you tease her as you lick a long strip up the length of her wetness, “all good things to those who wait.”

Before she could retort, she was cut off by her own loud moan. You had worked her up so intensely that the sudden pleasure filled pressure on her clit felt electrifying.

Your eyes don’t look away from her pleasure filled face, as two fingers make their way to her opening. Changing from sucking on her clit to gentle licks, your two fingers slowly enter her. This new added pleasure makes her head fly back and a gasping moan leave her.

Curling up your fingers, you manage to find her sweet spot that turns her into a quaking mess. Knowing she was close to her release, you begin to suck at her clit again.

“Oh fuck! Don’t stop!” Her screams out in a moan, her fingers tugging your hair to force you closer to her clit.

Switching to a faster pace with your fingers and sucking harder on her clit, Sif begins to hump into your face as she screams out her release. With her hands falling to her side, you rise to your knees again and stare down at the panting warrior.

“Do my skills please you, my lady?” You ask cheekily, smirking down at her.

Meeting your eyes, she raises to a seated position as she raises her hands to the sides of your face, bringing you into another heated kiss. This kiss though still filled with passion, was a lot more gentle and sweet.

“Your skills please me very greatly. Perhaps we should head back, start to get ready for the feast.” She suggests peacefully, your foreheads resting against each other.

“As you wish, my lady.”

******

Stepping into her bedroom, Sif finds a dress and a note laid out on her bed.

‘Dear Sif,

I hope you have enjoyed your present thus far. I have done the honours of picking out a dress I believe to suit your very obliging present.

See you tonight.

- Loki’

Lightly smirking at the note, Sif throws its to the side as she picks up the dress Loki had picked out for her gift to wear. Sif stares between the dress and your form obediently waiting for instruction, as a flirty smile grows on her face.

The dress, though elegant, was far from modest. It was tight, black and sleeveless with a large gap in the side to show off your stunning form. Sif could not wait to see you in it tonight.

“It seems our dear friend has picked out something perfect for you tonight.” Sif fully turns to you to show you the dress.

Your eyes light up at seeing the scandalous item of clothing.

“Well he certainly has taste.” You smirk back, taking the dress from her hands as you kiss her.

*****

Once at the feast, Sif could not keep her hands off of you, and the rest of the guests could not keep their eyes off the pair of you. Loki was never far away the whole evening, getting his own joy out of watching you two.

Most of the feast was spent in Sifs lap, acting as a pretty accessory she could show off and touch for the evening. You couldn’t help but grind in her lap from the way she touched you and the way her and Loki watched you.

[bluemidnightmelody]

lover/fighter - Chapter index

Since this work will be very long, I've decided that it's too complicated to post everything directly on tumblr. Instead, I will link all currently available chapters to the ao3 version (warnings are in the tags on ao3).

Summary: Rhea Lafey has big plans. After a difficult childhood as part of the Capitol's poorer population, she plans to make a difference on her own. After earning her position in the higher circles of society as a practicing doctor with her own practice, it's time for her to spring into action. But what she has planned for a long time threatens to go wrong the very next day. Without knowing it, she has fallen in with far more powerful people than she first realized, and when she is forced into a unforeseen work arrangement, she fears the worst. What awaits her is an insufferable playboy named Finnick Odair. What he's actually up to she doesn't know yet, but she's about to find out. Or how Finnick Odair meets someone in the hated Capitol who could change his life forever. word count by now: 401k

Chapter 1 - Him

Chapter 2 - Her

Chapter 3 - Lost at sea

Chapter 4 - Swimming against the current

Chapter 5 - Dark waters

Chapter 6 - How waves meet the shore

Chapter 7 - After the storm

Chapter 8 - Sad like the ocean

Chapter 9 - The color of the unknown

Chapter 10- A spoonful of sugar against the pain

Chapter 11 - Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Chapter 12 - The young, the bright, the fair

Chapter 13 - Matters of the heart

Chapter 14 - Swimming in the frozen sky

Chapter 15 - Beneath the surface

Chapter 16 - Cold snow, warm memories

Chapter 17 - Just a game

Chapter 18 - Sea-weary soul

Chapter 19 - Message in a bottle

Chapter 20 - Green and Blue and White

Chapter 21 - Two gentle souls

Chapter 22 - Of pirates and wallflowers

Chapter 23 - He who strides on the waves

Chapter 24 - At the bottom

Chapter 25 - Victory and Defeat

Chapter 26 - Lighthouse

Chapter 27 - Spring and new beginnings

Chapter 28 - Present for you

Chapter 29 - Girls' Talk

Chapter 30 - Painting secrets in the sand

Chapter 31 - The Fischer's Boy

Chapter 32 - The art of healing

Chapter 33 - Fun in the sun and one shocking realization

Chapter 34 - Salty but sweet

Chapter 35 - I love him, I love him not

Chapter 36 - Pride, honor and sacrifice

Chapter 37 - The world of a victor

Chapter 38 - What's in a name?

Chapter 39 - And so it begins

Chapter 40 - A dangerous darkness

Chapter 41 - The face behind the mirror

Chapter 42 - Cloudburst

Chapter 43 - My crying hero

Chapter 44 - Neptune in 4th house

Chapter 45 - Over at last

Chapter 46 - A wild night out

Chapter 47 - Awakening

Chapter 48 - To the sea, to the night, to happiness, to death.

Chapter 49 - Walking over glass

Chapter 50 - Love is a tough business

Chapter 51 - Rules, and those who break them

Chapter 52 - 'Someday'

Chapter 53 - Invisible treasures

I will add to the list whenever I finish new chapters.

~~~

Image source for my dividers: freepik

[soulofamy]

Evil in Zaterra's Shadows

With the knowledge of the secret genocide that wiped out the Zaterran Shapeshifters weighing down on him, Syzoth embarks on an investigation, with Ashrah and Khameleon at his side, to find out who is responsible for this madness chapter 1 || read it on ao3 || chapter 3

Chapter 2

The Earthrealm sun was warm on Syzoth's skin as he laid in the grass of a secluded meadow. With Ashrah laying beside him, their hands joined between them, and with no one around to disturb them, this was his favorite way to be. As he watched the clouds float across the sky overhead, he found himself wishing he could stay like this forever. Alas, there were pressing matters at hand.

"There has finally been movement on the investigation into the shapeshifter genocide," he murmured.

Ashrah smiled at him. "That is wonderful news," she said before giving him a confused look. "But you don't seem happy."

"I am," he tried to reassure. "Mileena has authorized a direct investigation where I will be stationed in Zaterra, under the guise of leading a peace initiative. But..." he paused and sighed. "this also means it will be quite some time before I get to see you again."

"Oh." He felt Ashrah release his hand as she rolled over onto her stomach to look at him directly. "I'm sure it will be over before you know it. And I will be right here waiting when you return," she said with a smile. She was trying to be supportive but Syzoth could see the disappointment in her features.

"I would rather just stay here with you," he admitted before looking back at the sky and closing his eyes.

Ashrah was silent for a long moment. "I could come with you," she offered, her voice small.

Syzoth looked back at her before sitting up. "Zaterrans don't welcome warmbloods, Ashrah," he said. "I couldn't possibly subject you to their prejudice."

"But you would be subjected to it as well," she countered as she sat up to meet him. "And you would be forced to deal with it all by yourself."

For a long beat, Syzoth said nothing. His gaze trailed down from her face to the grass as he knit his eyebrows. He already felt lonely, hearing her rebuttal. He wanted nothing more than to keep her by his side throughout this whole trip but he still couldn't bare the thought of the grief he might cause her.

"Syzoth," Ashrah's gentle voice spoke as guided his face back up to look at her. She looked at him with confidence. "I have faced far worse than a few ignorant stares and occasional snide comments. If it means getting to stay by your side, those thing will not deter me."

Their gazes met and Syzoth's heart thrummed in his chest. What he had done to earn such affection from Ashrah, he had no idea. "...are you sure?"

Ashrah shifted and leaned forward to press a gentle, reassuring kiss to his lips. "As sure as I am that I love you."

Syzoth grew dizzy with her touch and lost in the night sky of her eyes. "I love you, too." His hand brushed her cheek and he kissed her once again, a silent show of appreciation. "Alright, then. I will see to it that Mileena allows for you to come as well."

Syzoth paced the palace halls, on his way to discuss details of the investigation with Mileena. The closer the day came when he would need to leave, the more restless he grew. So much could go wrong during this trip. One wrong move and he could find himself or Ashrah dead. There was no telling who in Zikandur he could trust. It was hard for him to know how to prepare for such a task.

Syzoth had to imagine there were proper authorities for these sorts of investigations. He felt ill-qualified, yet he still doubted anyone would be more qualified than him. Certainly, no one else would treat this corruption with the care he would. He couldn't imagine it being as personal to others as it was to him either. It had to be him, but he wasn't sure if he had what it took to carry this mission out properly. At least, not by himself.

The clicking of boot heels on marble floors caused Syzoth head to turn. A group of Umgadi were escorting Princess Kitana down the hall as she conversed with General Kotal. Syzoth stood to the side and bowed as the Princess passed him by and an idea soon came to him.

After his meeting with Mileena, he headed in the direction of the Umgadi's senobium, hoping that Khameleon would be close by. When he found her, she was sitting against the wall, cloth in hand as she maintained her vast array of weapons.

"Syzoth," she greeted as he approached. She stood up and gave him a polite smile before looking at him with confusion. "I do hope you weren't planning on entering the senobium. It is forbidden to all who are not Umgadi."

"Not at all," he assured. "I came hoping to find you though."

Khameleon's eyebrows raised. "Me? Whatever for?"

"I have already asked for Her Majesty's permission," he prefaced. "I was hoping you would accompany me on business I have in Zikandur."

Khameleon frowned and her eyes shifted to her left in thought. "What is the nature of this business? And...why me?"

"Zaterra is unwelcoming to warmbloods," he began to explain. "I am already bringing one along as it is, but I don't want to risk anything. The people of Zikandur would be much more welcoming of you."

"I wouldn't be too sure," she sighed. "I know nothing of Zaterra or its customs. And if they are as unfriendly to shapeshifters as you say..."

"But that is precisely why I need you," he tried to reason. Syzoth glanced around before speaking in a whisper. "What I am to be doing in Zaterra could impact shapeshifters like you and I for generations to come."

Khameleon did not speak. She watched him with a contemplative expression.

"To make a long story short," he continued. "There have always been shapeshifters in Zaterra. But the Zaterran government has been eradicating them. But with your help, we could expose the corruption and put an end to it all. Think of all the lives we could save!" he urged.

He watched as Khameleon went from contemplative to serious. "...very well, then," she said, her tone still somewhat unsure. "If you believe my aid will be of assistance to you, you shall have it."

Syzoth let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. With any luck, you won't regret it."

"Argus willing," she agreed with a smile.

Syzoth, Ashrah, and Khameleon sat together in a carriage en route to Zikandur. Ashrah sat beside Syzoth, looking out the window. Khameleon was across from them, her head resting against the wall of the carriage as she slept. In front of them was another carriage, one that carried Archduke Mahazzem. Naturally, Syzoth made sure he was nonethewiser about their true intentions in Zaterra. To him, they were simply carrying out a peace initiative to create solidarity between the reptiloids and warmbloods. Ashrah was to be the first warmblood welcomed in Zaterra. Mahazzem was to be hosting them in the capital building.

It will be fine, he told himself. They had a convincing cover story.

It will be fine, he told himself. But what if the truth got out?

It will be fine, he told himself. But what would they do to the three of them once the truth got out?

A soft warmth enveloped his hand and he looked over to see Ashrah holding it, a look of concern on her face as she observed him. "Is something troubling you?"

Hearing her voice reminded him to breathe. He was quick to accept her hand, their fingers laced together. "Perhaps we made a mistake, taking on this investigation."

Ashrah frowned. "Why would you think that?"

Syzoth chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. "There are so many variables outside our control," he explained in a hushed voice. "We will have no idea who is safe to turn to. One wrong move and we will be exposed. What if they hurt you or Khameleon? What if the shapeshifters are worse off for it and they are punished for our faults? What if-"

"What if everything goes according to plan and you save the shapeshifters from their heinous reality?" Ashrah interjected. She shifted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. "This is a noble cause, Syzoth. Frightening to pursue...but noble nonetheless. Just imagine what sort of good it will do when you succeed." She kissed his cheek. "Don't back down, my love. The shapeshifters need you."

Syzoth already knew everything she said to be true. Hearing it in her voice served to calm the storm of anxious thinking in his mind. He affectionately squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to relax. "I'm so glad I brought you with me," he murmured, his tone lighthearted as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

Ashrah gave a content hum. "There is nowhere I would rather be."

The two sat up when the driver announced that they would be arriving at the Zaterran border very soon. With another calming sigh, the light around Syzoth shifted as he transformed into his reptilian form. A sense of embarassment rushed through him and he was unable to meet Ashrah's gaze, his shoulders tense. "I will need to assume my reptiloid form for much of our stay here," he said, his voice now a low growl. "That will not...upset you at all, will it?"

"Why should it?" Ashrah responded without hesitation. She reached across him to hold his face before pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Reptiloid or humanoid, you will always be my Syzoth."

Syzoth let out a content growl and relaxed.

Once the three of them, along side Mahazzem, entered the capital of Zikandur, they were escorted straight to the capital building.

"Please make yourselves at home," Mahazzem said as he led them down the halls, tailed by servants carrying their belongings and his security detail. Ashrah and Khameleon, now walking in her white-scaled Saurian form, took in the halls colored in browns, greens, and grays. "Think of this as your...home away from home."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace," Syzoth responded, his tone formal and polite. Though he would keep his thoughts to himself, Syzoth suspected that this all stemmed from Archduke Mahazzem's opportunism. He would do anything to get on Mileena's good side to win her favor. He only wished Mileena herself could see it as Syzoth did. A job was a job, though, and it wasn't as though Syzoth knew of anywhere better to stay while on official royal business. He would simply have to be vigilant while in the Archduke's company.

They stopped at the end of the hall where the doors to two guest rooms. "These will be the rooms you stay in," Mahazzem said, gesturing with his outstretched hand. "Take all the time you need to settle in. In six hours, their will be a welcome celebration down in the main hall in your honor." He turned to Ashrah and clasped his hands together. "We even have arranged to have food fit for warmbloods as an option, just for you, my dear."

Ashrah smiled. "Thank you, Your Grace. That is much appreciated."

Once their belongings were put down, the three of them convened in Syzoth's and Ashrah's room, Syzoth and Khameleon both in their human forms. Syzoth sat at the desk and sorted through his documents, some for the peace initiative and others, copies of the documentation of the shapeshifter genocide he had stumbled upon.

"Be wary of who you speak to at the celebration," Syzoth warned the two. "Do not betray what our true intentions here are."

"Archduke Mahazzem seems like a nice man," Ashrah pointed out.

"He and Her Majesty, Empress Sindel, have always been friends," Khameleon contributed. "Perhaps he will have resources at his disposal that could aid our efforts."

"Especially not to him," Syzoth said with a frown. "Mahazzem is not to be trusted."

The two gave him confused looks. "Why not?" Ashrah asked.

"There's just...something about him..." Syzoth began. "I work with him constantly and not once have I ever heard him speak his mind or give a novel opinion. He seems to always say what he think Empress Mileena wants to hear."

"That's what politicians do though," Khameleon tried to reason.

"I've worked with others as well. There is something about him in particular..." Syzoth trailed off and shook his head. "...I wouldn't be surprised if he was tied to this conspiracy somehow."

Ashrah sighed. "Let's wait until we find evidence before jumping to conclusions," she suggested. "For now, let's form a plan."

Syzoth nodded. "We can begin tonight at the celebration. Take note of any and all behavior you see and conversation you hear. Commit names to memory. And tonight, we will reconvene here to discuss anything we have learned. In the very least, it will be good to have a list of names to start with." He turned to Ashrah. "I will be presenting you at the celebration when I introduce our peace initiative. We can take note of anyone who seems averse to the idea. Keep an eye on the elders, they tend to be the ones who perpetuate these sorts of hateful sentiments."

"Understood," Ashrah said.

He then turned to Khameleon. "You will mingle with the guests. See what sorts of information you could get out of them. Report back your findings later tonight."

"Sounds doable."

Syzoth stood up and tucked away the conspiracy documents. "Good. Let's go, then."