#That's typically the kind of direction this kind of news leads to

[bluewolfangel01]

Obey Me content creators, be prepared to carry the entirety of the fandom ✊️

Edit: as if yall weren't already

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part four

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the dinner brought on a conversation with someone you didn't expect.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, and a little bit of fluff (kind of)

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The past few days felt like you were watching in from the outside. Not leaving your apartment on your days off like you normally would. Usually, you liked to be down in the bar while your friends worked, just to spend time with them.

But after that night, you can’t talk to them. Won’t talk to them. Benny set the whole thing up and didn’t give you any warning, or even ask you in the first place.

Now, back at work, you stay silent, not a single word being uttered to your coworkers.

��Y/n,” Benny’s voice comes out softly, cautious almost. As if talking to a wounded animal that’s about to bolt. Acting as if you didn’t hear her, you continue to shine the glass in your hands. Silently wishing a customer would appear in front of you and order something, so you don’t have to deal with whatever Benny wants.

A huff leaves her when she realises you’re ignoring her. “I need to talk to you.” Voice still soft, placing a hand on your shoulder. You harshly shrug off her touch, placing the glass on the bar top and pushing past her into the kitchen.

Footsteps follow closely behind you. “What, Benny?” You snap.

”I’m sorry, I just wanted to help. I thought if you just talked to them-“

”Stop. Just, stop.” Running a hand through your hair. “If I wanted to talk to them, I would have.” Turning away, taking a deep breath. “It should be on my terms.” A deep breath is released behind you. Footsteps scuffing, shifting on her feet. “y/n-“ her blue form appeared in front of you suddenly. “I am truly sorry. You’re right, It should be on your terms.”

Your gaze moves to the back door, “I need some air.” Eyes meeting hers. Understanding took over her features, a nod of her head, taking a step to the side. “Talk to me when you are ready. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or anyone else.” Waving a hand towards the doorway leading back into the main area of the bar. “But just know we’re here if you need anything.”

With a curt nod, you pull the door open, stepping out of the bar. Fresh air fills your lungs, and a deep sigh leaves you. Eyes flutter closed as the afternoon sun kisses your skin. Brows pulling together, mind unwantedly drifting to the thought of how you and your sisters used to bask in the sun after a long winter transitioned to warmer seasons.

Eyes open with a start as the cool breeze brushes your ankle. Glancing down, you find a smoky tendril swirling around your feet. You frown down at it. Lifting your gaze to find the owner, knowing his shadows don’t typically stray too far from him. But you find no sign of him, no feeling of eyes on you. No glimpse of large wings in the moving fae on the streets. The tendril moves up to your wrists, a gentle tug causing you to stumble forward a step. Seemingly pulling you, guiding you.

Arm moving to shake it off, but fail miserably, the little thing intent on moving you in a certain direction. “Go away.” You mumble. “I’m sure he doesn't want anything to do with me.” Voice hesitant as it tightens around your wrist softly. Tugging you forward once again. With a sigh you decide to let it pull you away.

Footsteps carefully along the uneven stones of the streets of Valaris. It doesn't take you long to realise what direction it was pulling you to. The townhouse. You stop in your tracks, harshly pulling your wrist away from the shadow. “No.” You growl. The dark tendril moving to brush against your face, trying to comfort you.

A sharp breath leaving you. Running a hand down your face. Why is this happening to me? The question crosses your mind, rubbing your eyes almost aggressively, turning on your heel, and planning on making your way back to the tavern.

Only a few steps forward you run head-first into a hard wall. No. Not a wall, a person. Cheeks blazing, pulling your hands from your face. “I’m so sorry-“ meeting a familiar pair of hazel eyes. Gaze widening as you take a hasty step back. Eyes darting to the side, trying to find a way to escape the questioning gaze of the shadowsinger.

More shadows join the one swirling around you brushing your skin. A huff leaves the male in front of you. Meeting his gaze to find him frowning at them. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, his cheeks tinting a soft pink at failing to reign them in.

“It's fine.” You find the words leaving you without your permission. Your cheeks heat up in response. A silence settles over the two of you as you both avert your eyes. The quiet was surprisingly not uncomfortable but felt far too long.

It seems Azriel agrees with your thoughts, clearing his throat softly. You feel his assessing gaze on your face, reading you far too easily. “Are you okay?” He asks finally, almost gently, as if worried he’ll scare you off. As if finding something in the way you're standing. The way you refuse to look at his face.

You feel a cool brush of a shadow on your cheek. Hands quickly wiping your face. Feeling a slight wetness under your eyes. Rubbing your face as fast as you can, probably far too aggressively. When did you start crying? “I’m fine.”

Sidestepping him, trying to leave as swiftly as you can. “Do you want me to walk with you?” His soft voice was barely audible from how far you’d moved away from him. You glance over your shoulder, finding him looking at you tentatively. “Of course, it's your choice, but I thought you might like some company.” His wings twitch at his back. “Sorry if that offer is stupid. I shouldn’t have asked.” He hastily added on, taking a small step back, clearly expecting you to reject him.

It takes you a moment before you answer. “Sure.” Your answer is quiet and unsure. But after the past couple of days, you felt lonely. Azriel had been the only one to check in on you. Giving you a choice. Not expecting anything from you.

He gave you a curt nod before striding up to walk by your side. You turn, hands wringing as you amble along past some shops. A comfortable quiet settles between you as you slowly make your way in a different direction from the bar. Not wanting to be back there for a while. Not ready, despite it being halfway through your shift. Benny shouldn’t mind.

”I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn't have said what I did.” A deep breath passed his lips. “You deserve to have time to decide what you want, especially after how we made you feel.” We? “No one should have made that choice for you. To show up out of nowhere, with no warning.”

a heavy breath leaves you. “y/n, you don’t deserve any of this.” You find you've made your way to the Sidra. Stopping by the bank. “Az-“ frowning from the weight of his statement. “Azriel, you’re the only one who didn’t forget.” Your eyes meet his hazel ones as you pull a necklace from the collar of your shirt. His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but his shadows fluttering around his wings gave him away.

“I could tell it was from you, despite not being told.” The steely blue stone in the pendant glimmered in the late afternoon sun. “The look on your face that night told me enough.” Gaze drifts to the glittering water of the sidra as your mind drifts back to your outburst. Internally wincing at the memory.

The feel of his stare burns through your skin. You tuck the necklace back under your shirt before meeting his gaze once again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to them.” His voice filled with subtle regret. A quiet humourless laugh escapes you. “They should have remembered on their own.”

”Still, you deserved to have a nice birthday.” The sincerity in his tone tugged at your heart suddenly. “Thank you.”

His mouth opens then closes as if unsure if he should say his next words. “Nyx misses you. He keeps babbling about his aunty.” A quiet humour in his voice. A snort leaves you. “I miss him too.” Your lips pull down, eyes lowering to the ground.

You hate that you miss the rest of them. They don’t deserve your forgiveness. You know that, but they are still your family. Azriel somehow seems to know where your thoughts slipped to. “They don’t expect your forgiveness. They know they don’t deserve it, especially not anytime soon. They made the mistake of thinking you needed all that time. Not realising how that made you feel.” His body turns fully towards you. “They didn’t forget about you. They’re just upset with themselves. I promise I’m not trying to make excuses for them. Or myself.”

You meet his gaze, giving him a small nod as you process his words. The pink tint that blankets the scene around you makes you realise how long you've been talking. “I should get back to the bar.” A nod of his head as you turn back to the street.

He stays by you the entire walk back to the tavern. No words passed between you. The weight of your conversation running through your head.

He stops a couple of steps back from you as you stop outside the bar. Heading towards the stairs to your apartment instead. Your shift is already finished anyway. A few steps up, you turn, “Thank you Azriel.” He dips his head. “I needed that.” You decide to add on before turning away and making your way up the rest of the stairs.

─

Azriel watches you close your door behind you, then turns to leave, towards the river house.

The look on your face as you talked lingered in his mind the entire way back. The heartbreak, the tears in your eyes. A subtle sense of pain and sadness pulls in his chest. His shadows swarm his ears, whispering your words in his ears repeatedly. Your voice echoes with each word they utter.

Finally standing in front of the house, his family’s voices drifting through the open windows. Far quieter than they were three months ago. The heaviness of your absence straining each of them. Your sisters are still unsure how to handle it. Guilt weighing on every single one of them.

He hopes you’ll forgive them with time, but he’d understand if you didn’t. Your conversation makes him understand you need company, he’ll be there if you decide it's his company you want. Hope fills him, he’d be grateful if you did want that. He shakes his head, shoving that hope away. He doesn’t deserve it.

Shuffling up the pathway to the front door, softly pushing it open, stepping inside, finding himself feeling lighter than he has in months.

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a/n: I actually hate this. It didn't come out how I wanted. I'll probably end up changing and fixing it later on. There may be some spelling mistakes, let me know if you find any. Its slowly but surely coming together. More confrontation to come, as well as more romance lol. I hope you like it regardless. <3

[hiiikiko]

𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕝𝕦𝕔𝕜 [2] : casual

“well, back at my house.. i got a california king.”

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ellie williams x femme!reader | friends with benefits

tlou masterlist | casual masterlist

tw: smut, swearing, alcohol, smoking, and maybe a few more things idk i’m tired leave me alone

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It had been two weeks, TWO whole weeks since that night with Ellie. The lack of communication after didn’t bother you all that much, I mean, she was in a band after all so you didn’t have much hope to begin with anyway but still, she could at lest acknowledge you at her gigs, not because she slept with you but because you were her drummer’s little sister. Whatever, it totally didn’t bother you. You weren’t going to let yourself get hung up on some girl with an ego too big for her own good, besides, you had a new band to focus on, some small band had reached out to you weeks ago, it was actually one of the reasons you decided to go to Seattle.

After your band broke up all because of some petty drama, you felt lost and then your relationship went to shit. You had no band, no friends, and no real family, you were feeling lost and down on your luck when ding!

thwlves: Hey, we’re a small band from Seattle. We saw your videos and heard your band broke up, wanna join ours? We’d pay for your ticket.

Fuck it, a free ride? That’s all you needed to hear, you packed your bags and left the next day. The day after meeting Ellie, you went to the address they had sent you. You’d seen their videos, they were a pretty small garage band, nowhere near the popularity The Infected had accumulated, they were still in their garage band phase but they did buy you your ticket and you owed them for that. Arriving to the house they sent you, it was nice, in the suburbs, you liked it. There was Abby, the drummer, god, she was built, owen the bassist, and Manny, the lead guitarist. They were all pretty nice people but you soon learned that a Abby and Ellie had unspoken beef, nobody cared to fill you in. Whatever, it didn’t bother you that much.

You and the band had great chemistry, your vocals paired perfectly with what they were going for, a grunge kind of feel, typical for the Seattle Scene. You were finally able to organize a gig at a small hole in the wall bar, the band was all very excited for it, including you. Jesse said he would come, despite his extreme dislike for your newfound friends.

…

The day of the gig, you woke up with a headache from not getting much sleep from the previous night. You had performed in bigger bars so why are you so damn nervous? Maybe it was the fact that Jesse had mentioned that Ellie wanted to come so that she could ‘scout the competition.’

She’s just trying to get a better idea of how battle of the bands will turn out, you reassured yourself.

Getting ready for the gig was actually pretty fun, Jesse’s ‘girlfriend,’ Dina, helped you do your hair and even loaned you a cute little black skirt. You decided to dress up a little but not too much. You wore a flannel, a nod at the gloomy Seattle weather, a black denim mini skirt, and some graphic tee you fished out of Jesse’s closet, paired with fishnets and your docs. You felt good as you made your way downstairs, waiting for Abby to pick you up and take you to get something to eat before y’all headed out.

“Hey,” you looked up from your phone to see Ellie, she was looking you up and down.

“Oh, hey,” you give her a soft smile, hoping things wouldn’t be awkward between the two of you.

“Good luck on your, uh, gig,” Ellie said, you could’ve sworn you detected a hint of sarcasm but before you could confront her, Abby drove up and called out your name. Sneaking one more glance at Ellie, you saw a scowl plastered on her face as she looked in Abby’s direction.

“Bye,” you gave a little wave before jumping into Abby’s van.

“Y/n, what the hell were you doing with her?” Abby looked you up and down, with a hint of disgust.

“Oh, calm down, Abs. She’s just there to see my cousin,” you watched Ellie walk into the apartment building through the rear view mirror, “Nothin’s goin on between us. I promise.”

“Good,” and with that, the rest of the drive was filled with friendly conversation and gossip about Manny’s latest venture.

After dinner, you and the rest of the band headed to the venue, butterflies creeping into your stomach as you thought about all the emerald eyes that would be focused on you but as soon as you made your way onto that stage, all the butterflies fluttered out and fueled your energy. The unfamiliar crowd actually gave you some applause, not as much as they would have given the Infected, but enough to bring a smile onto your face. Everything had been going so good that you almost didn’t notice Ellie, leaning against the bar, whiskey in hand, eyeing your figure with a dark look in her eyes.

When you finished the set list, you made your way through the crowd full of girls telling you how pretty you looked and how good you sounded, guys trying to get with you, and old people telling you how you reminded them from some singer of their childhood, then you finally made your way to the bar. Jesse had his armed draped around Dina and Ellie had hers wrapped around some girl’s waist, pulling her in, a smirk on her lips as she whispered something in her ears. You tried not to stare but it was hard not to when Ellie was eyeing you, almost like she was imagining that you were the one she was holding. God, she really was good, wasn’t she? She knew exactly how to get to you, you don’t know why she was doing it but damn, it was effective.

“Thanks,” you smiled at Dina who was totally fingerling over you, “Anyway, I better head out, I have a job interview tomorrow at Valiant Music Shop.” Jesse had been nagging you about bills and rent so you finally caved in and started your job search, so far the Pinnacle theatre and Barko’s Pet Shop had turned you down.

“‘Bout damn time, you got your lazy ass out,” Jesse said, his accent pulling in strong when he said ‘damn.’

You scoff, “Okay, dad,” Jesse playfully shoves you before wishing you good night and turning around to order another whiskey.

It’s another cold and damn night, you pull the thin flannel tighter around you.

“Cold?” A voice rasps out from behind you.

“What gave you that idea? Was it the way i’m shaking like a newborn deer or the way my nose looks like it belongs to Rudol-,” your breath hitches in your throat when you see it’s Ellie, her hair wet and a red hand print across her cheek as she fishes out a cigarette from her back pocket, “What happened to you?”

Ellie looks almost confused by your question until you point to her cheek, “Oh, little miss ‘I’m your biggest fan’ didn’t like the fact that I was staring’ at you the whole night,’ you can’t tell if she’s being serious or if she’s teasing so you decide to tease her back, “I mean, I did look pretty good up there.”

“Damn right you did,” Ellie puts the cigarette up to her lips, rolling it between her teeth before lighting it.

You thank god that it’s dark right now because if it weren’t, Ellie would’ve gotten a good view of how red your cheeks were. Actually, you couldn’t tell if they were red from how fuckin’ cold it was or from the way Ellie wrapped her jean jacket around you, “Thanks,” you mutter. She smells so good, like American Spirit cigarettes and a woodsy cologne. Ellie edged closer to you and whispered against your neck, “You really did look hot up there.”

She laid a few kisses on your neck, making her way down to the edge of your shirt, she let out a dismayed sigh and pulled up your shirt so that she could continue peppering you with kisses. Your whimpers echoing throughout the alley as her hands found their way under your bra and played with your hardened nipples.

“E-Ellie,” you tug at her belt loop, silently hoping she gets the hint.

“Hm?” she mumbles around your neck.

“Can we go back to your place,” you bashfully whisper.

“You sure about that, doll? Wouldn’t your band mates be mad that their precious singer is gettin’ her pretty cunt toyed with by a member of their rival band, hm?”

Your mind races, she’s right, Abby would be pretty fuckin’ mad but on the flip side, this would just be one off night, right?

“It’s fine, they dont havta know,” you kiss Ellies jawline, feeling her muscles curl into a smile.

“‘Kay, wait here, lemme grab my car.’

The rain pattered on the top of Ellie’s truck, creating a serene atmosphere.

“Fuck, sorry, my roommate just texted, said she has some ‘company’ over, if you get my meanin’.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to hide how disappointed tou really were, “Well, back at my house.. I got a California king..”

“Yea?” Ellie says, even though you can’t see her, you can practically hear the smirk on her lips.

Making your way up the apartment, Ellie ha her hands on your waist and is kissing you against any surface she can, when you reach the apartment, you struggle to fish the key out from your bag and Ellie’s not making it easier. She has her chest pressed against your back, her hand trailing down your skirt and her other hand on your stomach as she kisses your neck, “hurry the fuck up,” she mumbles against your skin, barely audible. Did she mean for you to hear that? You don’t know and nor do you care, you just need to get laid.

When you finally get the door open, Ellie, obviously familiar with Jesse’s apartment from when she used to live there, pulls you into your room and pushes you onto the bed, not breaking the kiss the entire time. She trails her denim clad knee up your leg, nudging them open so she can rub her calloused fingers against your soaking wet underwear.

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby,” she says as your hands trail up her chest, signalling her to take off her shirt. She pulls it off swiftly, her wet hair dripping on your exposed chest, your shirt long forgotten in the hallway.

Your hands go back to her chest, making your way under her bra, pinching her nipples as your knee makes it’s way up so it can nudge against her aching clit.

“Mm, fuck, you’re so good at this,” Ellie whimpers out, her hands guiding yours down to her unbuttoned jeans and into her boxers, where you rub her pretty wet cunt.

“Can’t talk this anymore,” Ellie says through gritted teeth, getting up and pulling off your skirt and underwear along with her jeans and boxers. You sat up as Ellie positions herself so that she’s in between your legs, then she slowly starts to grind herself against you, pretty little moans and ‘fuck’s leave her lips, the sensation of your needy clit rubbing against her filled her with need and a thirst for more of you, especially when you would moan out her name. Ellie opened her eyes and sneaked a glance of you, you looked so fuckin’ lewd, your head thrown back, mouth in a perfect ‘O’ shape, your pretty tits bouncing, beggin for her to use them. She needs more of you, she pulls your leg up over her shoulder so she can get as close to you as possible, your whimpers bouncing off the walls, you were getting so close already and Ellie could tell, her teeth gently digging into your shoulder, sending waves of pleasure to your brain as your pussy clenches around nothing, “Close,” you pathetically whimper out.

“Me, too,” Ellie whimpers, god, she sounds pretty. Her voice a little raspy from the cold but still dripping with need, “Cum f’me, baby, I’ll come with you.”

That was all you needed, your hips bucking up against Ellie’s, your body filling with warmth, your back arching, and your hands roaming over Ellie as you rode out your high. You looked at Ellie, who had her head hanging, hiding her pretty eyes, her pretty tits looked so pretty in the moonlight, and her hands placed firmly on your chest. After she came, she collapsed onto you, letting herself linger for a few minutes, savouring the warmth of your chest pressed against hers, before getting up an putting her clothes back on and saying, “Good luck on your job interview tomorrow, doll,” before winking and heading out into the damp night.

Your mind stil fuzzy, you wrap yourself in your blankets and close your eyes, mind racing about what tomorrow would bring.

…

The next morning, you get dressed and make your way downtown, you had ten minutes to the interview. Wearing the same clothes from last night, you were in a rush and didn’t care to put together a new outfit, and only had enough time to throw your hair into a pony tail and do your makeup so you didn’t look like a background character in Night of the Living Dead.

The chime of a bell welcomes you through the door of Valiant Music Shop, you see a young boy working at the counter, “Morning, I’m here for my interview? My names Y/n.”

His face shows that he knows what you’re going on about, “Alrighty, just hold on a sec and I’ll grab out manger, she’ll be out shortly.”

You nod and turn around to inspect some records behind you, thats when you hear an all too familiar voice, “Morning, doll.”

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[a/n:] hope y’all liked this :) sorry for getting it out kinda late, i think the next release will be tmrw :)

tag list: @elliessweetheart

[illusioninfnty]

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

જ⁀➴ Brothel : Day 17

feat. Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower ᯓ★ Rhaenyra shows you and Alicent a new kind of fun to be had.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, pre-timeskip, semi-public sex, facesitting, cunnilingus, breast play, 69ing, fingering, dom!Rhaenyra, switch!reader, sub!Alicent

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

The cool air of the night sky hits you all at once, a stark contrast to Rhaenyra’s warm hand clasped in your own.

“Princess, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at you, pulling on yours and Alicent’s hands as she guides you all through crowds of boisterous smallfolk.

People were celebrating—for what exactly, you didn’t know—with the way that people stumbled through the streets, cheering as they clutched their pints of alcohol.

“Someone might recognize you,” Alicent pipes in quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes shift all around.

She pulls at her hood again and Rhaenyra lets out an annoyed sigh. “Trust me. Where we’re going, no one cares who I am.”

You and Alicent share a confused look as Rhaenyra leads the two of you up a small staircase, knocking on a fairly plain-looking door. It opens within mere seconds, and before even stepping in the stench of sweaty bodies and the sounds of loud moans key you to exactly what kind of place you’re about to enter.

“You brought us to a brothel?” you gasp, raising a hand to your mouth. Alicent averts her eyes next to you, a blush appearing across her features.

Rhaenyra smirks as she leads you two in. “This is the only place in town where we don’t have to worry about being caught.”

She gestures a hand out in front of you, and you and Alicent survey the scene. To your surprise, no one even bats an eye in the direction of you three.

Alicent is the first to speak up again. “...And why a brothel?” She doesn’t sound accusatory, but curious, rather.

Your princess friend weaves you all in between couples fucking until you reach a large bed behind a curtain, the space only illuminated by candlelight. She sheds her cloak, throwing it off to the side.

She then goes up to Alicent, unfastening the buttons on hers. “We deserve to have some fun before we’re all married off.” She eyes you. “Don’t you agree?”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be intimate with your two best friends. You three were already closer than what was typically seen in other young women your age. There were lingering stares, and hands that stayed on each other’s bodies for just a second too long. You would sometimes wake up with faint dreams of familiar hands caressing your body.

When you don’t respond right away, Alicent elbows your side, whispering your name harshly. 

Rhaenrya chuckles. “I figured.” Finally, she takes off your cloak. She doesn’t stop there, however. You gasp as your friend begins to undo the lacing of your underdress, her fingers ghosting your neck causing you to shiver. Alicent stares at the two of you with wide eyes as your nude figure is revealed.

Rhaenyra leans into you from behind. “Take off her dress, and then lay down on the bed,” she whispers in your ear.

You inhale sharply as her hot breath tickles your earlobe, and you obey silently. Alicent jumps when you begin to take her undergarments off.

“How are you feeling?” you whisper to her.

“Nervous,” she replies. “But…I think I’ve been really wanting this.”

“Me too.” You smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek as you take your place on the bed, back against the plush white covers.

Rhaenyra stares down at you like a predator ready to claim its prize. She lowers herself down, and with no warning begins to feast on your cunt.

You let out a loud gasp that practically becomes a yelp, throwing your head back and clamping a hand over your mouth in surprise. The sensation of her tongue toying with the most sensitive parts of you is even greater than you could have ever imagined. Heat envelops your entire body, and your free hand claws at the bedsheet, desperately for some stability.

Alicent takes a seat on the bed next to you, near where your head is positioned. Her hand reaches down to hold yours, intertwining your fingers together.

Your back arches as Rhaenyra’s tongue is relentless, loud and messy as your cunt grows wetter each second. Alicent’s hand tightens in your grasp, and you can practically see how her breath quickens as she stares down at Rhaenyra devouring you.

“Alicent.” Rhaenyra’s voice is low and suggestive. Her mouth leaves your cunt and your hips buck up, still chasing the feeling. “I want you to sit on her face.”

“S-sit?” she stammers.

“Place your cunt where her tongue is and let her lick you like I am to her.”

You whine hearing that, the thought of having your two best friends so intimately close to you feeling like straight out of a dream. Alicent, despite the redness that takes over her face, adjusts herself to be over your head.

“Come closer,” you croon, running your hands over her legs, enjoying the way she shivers at your touch.

Rhaenyra hums as she watches the two of you, relishing in the way you two interact with each other, yearning for each other’s touch.

“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” Alicent asks you hesitantly.

“If this is the way I part from this world, I would have no regrets.”

“D-don’t say that!”

You giggle as you pull her cunt down onto your face, licking at her arousal that drips down the corners of your mouth. Alicent moans, her fists digging themselves into your hair as she swivels her hips wildly on top of you.

You groan into her cunt as Rhaenyra continues her assault on your own. You match the pace of her tongue, a comfortable rhythm being enacted that has both you and Alicent squirming.

“So good,” Alicent whines. Your hands tighten on her thighs, focusing on her clit, satisfaction arising in you as she whimpers when you nip at the bud.

In her jerky movements, Alicent ends up leaning forward, her head moving closer to your stomach. You reach your arms up to fondle at her breasts, tweaking at the nipples.

She goes to sit up instinctively, but Rhaenyra keeps her head down, placing a palm on the back of her tresses and lowering her to your cunt. “I want you to eat her cunt.”

You feel Alicent’s breath stop, her body going rigid above you. “But I’ve never—”

“Your Princess commands it.” Those words typically hold weight, but by the airy tone of Rhaenyra’s voice you can tell that she isn’t being serious about that.

But Alicent obeys nonetheless, and a lighter, more feathery sensation hits your core as she begins to explore your cunt with her tongue. Rhaenyra guides her head as you buck your hips up.

“More,” you moan desperately against Alicent’s cunt, trying your hardest to reach your peak.

“So needy.”

You whine as Rhaenyra lifts Alicent’s head from you but the sudden feeling of two of her fingers entering your cunt replaces the emptiness inside of you.

“Come here,” you hear Rhaenyra say softly, and the moans of your two friends and the wet sounds between them as they kiss have you feeling hot all over.

With your two friends engaged in their passionate exchange and Rhaenyra’s fingers deftly curling in and out of your cunt, you’re not surprised when your orgasm hits you at full force. Your arousal gushes out of you at the same time that you hear Alicent let out a high pitched squeal and her own juices release onto your face, where you lick up whatever you can.

Alicent soon removes herself from her position on top of you, rolling down next to you, panting heavily.

As the two of you recover from your orgasms, Rhaenyra lies on the bed, on the other side of you.

She chuckles. “It was well worth it, wasn’t it?”

You and Alicent share a look, realizing you’re on the same page. You turn back to Rhaenyra, placing her shoulders down on the bed as you crawl on top of her.

You smile teasingly at her as Alicent’s hands start to move their way up her legs. 

The blush is no longer present on Alicent’s face as she looks to take matters into her own hands. “We still have to take care of you, don’t we, Princess?”

The moans from the other patrons outside the curtains spur you on as you and Alicent aim to please your princess.

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[sim0nril3y]

GIRL I LOVE YOUR WORK. YOU'RE AMAZING.

I love your series ghost x civilian and I wanted to see you writing about Simon getting jealous. Love the way you express words girl, you had me screaming, giggling and kicking my feet the whole series.

Note: You're so cuuuuuuuuuute! Thank you, thank you for your kind words ily and thank you for the wonderful request, I loooooove a jealous bigboy <3<3<3 Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, mentions of jealousy, mentions of oral (male receiving), one little spank, canon-typical swearing.

With the little regard and car that you put into your car it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise when it just stopped working. Simon had tried arguing that the damn thing was a money-pit, just sell it for scrap and get yourself something new and safe, with all the mod-cons. You, on the other hand, argued that it had sentimental value, so off it went to a local mechanic who you awaited a whopping bill from.

In the meantime, Simon was picking up the slack of driving you back and forth to all your appointments, sending back parcels, picking up food shopping or simply waking him up in the dead of night from a deep slumber for the whims of late night food cravings.

One evening in particular you had stepped into the lounge looking absolutely mouth-watering in a pair of form fitting gym leggings, the damn things hugged all of your curves in a way that had Simon gazing a little too intensely. “Si…” Your voice cut through, smirking as his dark eyes flit up from observing your hips and thighs to be gazing into your eyes instead, brows raised in surprise and asking. “What was that, love?” It made you simmer with pride as Simon wasn't typically someone who got distracted like that, but it seemed like you simply standing here had him practically frothing at the mouth.

“I said…” You drew out the words playfully. “Would you mind dropping me off at the gym? I have a session with my personal trainer.” This was something new that you had started, only a few sessions in but Simon was encouraging your interest. He thought that your body was perfect the way it but he liked to support your good habits. “Right…” When you had originally mentioned wanting to go to the gym Simon had thrown his hat into the ring, offering to help you but with the way he reacted to you dressed up in leggings it seemed you made the right choice to go elsewhere, what he had planned wasn’t particularly the workout that you had been thinking about. “Course, just let me get my jacket.”

With a little noise of effort Simon pulled himself up off the sofa, stepping past you and smirking to himself as his eyes lingered on your rear. “Oh and don’t forget-” Turning you caught his eyes flitting up again from his gaze and you smirked, quirking a brow at him. “Were you staring at my bum?” “I was admiring, babe…” He took a couple slow steps towards you, stopping when he was finally mere inches from you. “Y’look fuckin’ good…” Large hands captured your hips, winding down to cup your rear in his hands, gripping at it playfully. “I’ll be late~”

“I’ll be quick.” Simon groaned softly, yanking you up into his arms then, legs tied around his waist as you squeaked in surprise. “Simon~” You giggled uncontrollably as he lead you back towards the sofa, dropping you and watching you bounce against the cushions softly. “I can’t show up at the gym smelling of sex!” You giggled, watching him pushing down his jogging bottoms to his midthigh, smiling down at you, reaching a hand forward to stroke his thumb against your throat. “Pretty girl, they aren’t gonna know if I’ve been down your throat, will they…”

Dropping you outside the gym Simon watched with adoration as you rushed inside, blowing him a multitude of kisses in his direction before finally through the sliding doors. For a few moments Simon lingered, waiting until you were safely inside the building before beginning to drive away. A flash of a phone screen illuminated from the seat beside him and Simon glanced over to see your phone lingering there. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered; it wouldn’t be possible to call him later to pick you up if you didn’t have that.

A moment later he pulled into the gym car park, collecting your phone and entering the gym in search of you. It was fancy in there. It all smelt so new and fresh, the floors practically sparkling. All the machines looked barely used and they all seemed to work. This was nothing like the gym that Simon went to across town, that was a run-down old boxing gym, there he felt like he fit in but here Simon really felt like he stood out amongst all the pretty looking gym-goers.

Shrugging off his initial discomfort Simon began to walk onto the main gym floor in search of you. Eyes lingering over all the different people, stepping past all the doors that lead to the class rooms and private areas and finally looking through one window to see you inside, on the ground stretching diligently. There you were on all fours, arms and torso stretched out in front of you, knees spread wide with your bum raised up. Simon felt fury spread through him as he looked behind you and spotted a man knelt between your legs, hands on your hips and talking to you, adjusting your stance to put you into a deeper stretch.

A moment later Simon opened the door loudly and stepped into the room, your trainer looked up in surprise and then you followed. A delighted gasp found your lips as you scrambled to your feet and then wrapped your arms around him a moment later. His arms possessively wrapped around your frame, holding you tight to his strong body and setting a cold pair of eyes on the man who was slowly pulling himself to his feet. “Simon, what are you doing here?”

“Left your phone.” His voice was even as he placed it into your hands as you pulled away from the hug. “Thanks.” You grinned up at him before following his gaze over your shoulder. “Oh, babe… This is Andy, my personal trainer.” You announced, gesturing to the man who was awkwardly standing aside. “This is my boyfriend, Simon.”

Awkwardly the younger man nodded, holding out a hand in his direction for Simon to clasp into his own, using all his strength to shake it and causing Andy to tug away sharply from the pain, though Andy never said a word simply smiled tightly. “Weren’t sure you were real, mate; a lot of my girls tells me they have boyfriends and it turns out not to be true.” Andy shrugged and Simon hummed. “Mmm, probably don’t wanna be leered at whilst they are working out.” Then narrowing his dark eyes.

Sensing some type of tension, you glanced between them and blinked slowly before looking at Simon. “Maybe I’ll just call you when I’m done? Or they have a café... you could get a tea, if you like?” You suggested, rubbing his arm soothingly, trying to get his attention again. This was unusual. It wasn’t like Simon was the jealous type, he was certainly possessive when he wanted to be, but something about Andy must have really set him off because even though Simon didn’t particularly like affection in public his hands stayed tied tight around your waist.

“Maybe I could stay…” Simon shrugged off his hoody then, throwing it aside nearby your stuff. “If you don’t mind, mate?” He looked at Andy who frowned heavily and cleared his throat. “Well, you aren’t a member-” “I actually have some guest passes.” You quipped sweetly and then adding with a shrug. “We could pay for a double session, if it’s trouble having us both…”

Andy didn't seem to like the idea but the money finally made him agree. “Whatever. It’s your session.” Then turning on his heel. “Why don’t you continue your stretches. I’ll get us some equipment.” Stepping from the room and allowing the door to swing closed behind him.

When you two were finally alone you finally spoke. “What do you think you’re doing exactly?” Quirking a brow and resuming your stretches, Simon joined in half-heartedly. “What am I doing? What did he think he was doing? Putting his fuckin’ hands all over you.” Simon grumbled, feeling his shoulders tensing. “Lucky, I didn’t break his fuckin’ hand…” He commented under his breath and you fought a smile before looking over at him.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Quirking a brow at him causing him to look at you sharply. “Don’t be stupid, of course not.” He grumbled lowly. It cause you to giggle sweetly, sauntering towards him and wrapping your arms around his bulky frame. “There anything to be jealous of?” Then looking down at you intensely. “Of course not.” You giggled. “I’m surprise you even had to ask that question considering I had you cock down my throat an hour ago…”

You watched the way his lips twitched to fight a smile. “Shut up.” He grumbled, which caused a bright giggle to pull from your throat. Turning your back to him was a mistake because not a moment later Simon’s hand sharply found your rear, clapping a hand against your cheek and causing you to squeak and jump away from him. “You just wait until I get you home, good thing you streched considering the positions I'll be putting you in…”

Masterlist | Ask | 24-11-2023

[sere1nnes]

︶︶︶﹕House of Cards. CHAPTER 1

Pairing: Aventurine x Galaxy Ranger!Reader second chance romance, canon universe, ex!aventurine, reader is a former member of the IPC

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ SYNOPSIS: When a seemingly ordinary visit to Penacony ends up in meeting your ex from the IPC, it quickly leads to numerous attempts from Aventurine in winning you back. You swore to cut off ties with that corrupted organization, but the past always comes to bite you eventually. You begin to wonder if his feelings are genuine, or an elaborate plan for you to be dragged back as a pawn for the higher-ups.

Even with the familiar sensation of his lips on yours and his gloved hand behind your neck, you still can't help but be skeptical of his true intentions. But perhaps he really is willing to bet on you two again.

After all, Aventurine's more than willing to gamble on his pride in exchange of your heart.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ Chapter WC: 1.9k

a/n: the childe fan to aventurine fan pipeline is real, y'all... I can confirm

Penacony was known as the land of sweet, blissful dreams. So why did your visit start off as a nightmare, merely half an hour after stepping foot onto the Reverie? 

To say that the infrastructure was simply massive would be an understatement. The Reverie was colossal. It was lined up with a seemingly endless amount of floors that faded into the skies. No wonder it took an average worker an entire Trailblaze year’s worth of labor to even visit as a regular guest— everything about the hotel screamed luxury.

Standing amidst several people walking with gigantic luggages, you admired the scene before you. The gigantic gears that spun around a glowing ball of energy was centered before the lobby, further adding extravagance to the view.

This was one of the first steps to a new life away from the Interastral Peace Corporation��� one of integrity.

Or so you thought.

"Your room number is 431." The receptionist hummed as she finished verifying your stay. Her hand reached out to give out a Penacony Dreamscape card. "Please do not hesitate if you'd like us to assist you with directions and such." Raising your eyebrows slightly at the familiar number, a sense of deja vu filled you. Where can you recall it from?

Ultimately, you shook the feeling off as something trivial. "Alright, thank you miss." Accepting the card, your fingers brushed against its shiny texture. You then pocketed it and turned to leave for the hotel room.

With a typical service smile, the staff member seemed a little nervous, even guilty, in her tone of voice. "E... Enjoy your stay." 

This caught your attention instantaneously. It didn't take too long for you to realize that there was something amiss by the way that woman had hesitated in saying such simple words. Even if the benefit of doubt was given, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to wish someone a pleasant visit. It was imperceptible to most, but for a former member of the IPC turned Galaxy Ranger, your intuition was correct at least 95% of the time. That’s what you believed.

However instead of requesting for a room change, your own curiosity motivated you to disregard that idea and investigate the suspicious matter. You simply gave a polite nod in response to the lady, taking a look at her once more. 

Walking in long cautious strides, you made your way to zone 10 of the Red Heart with mixed feelings.

You certainly had a keen eye, but the speck of blonde hair in your peripheral vision had slipped past quite quickly— if not, easily. 

…

Before you was the door to your hotel room. After a bit of assistance from a kind bellboy named Misha, the journey in searching for Room 431 managed to be a breeze.

Shoes tapped against the ground as you hovered closer, examining if the knob has been tampered with. But after some careful observation, you concluded that nothing was out of the ordinary. With the door, at least.

It gently opened as you stepped in, your eyes locked onto the spacious bathtub shaped like a seashell in the middle. A vaporwave-styled background displayed behind it, adding a retro vibe to the surroundings. You further scanned around and took note of the shiny red couch cushions, evident that they have just been cleaned. Even the lilacs on the coffee tables were fresh and fragrant. 

Though everything seemed to be normal, you couldn’t let go of your previous suspicions surrounding the safety of the room. 

A golden phonograph sat neatly on a drawer, as if it was waiting to be played. Curiously, you gravitated towards the device. Putting a finger to the press button, the CD began to spin. 

“Birds are born with no shackles, then what fetters my fate?” Robin’s melodic voice tuned, the vinyl slowly twirling. Your lips slightly curled as you reached to raise the volume.

“Blown away, the white petals,”

Deeming it was a bit too loud, you lowered it just slightly by sliding down a button. 

“Leave me trapped in the cage,” 

The phonograph continued to hum, waiting for the next lyric. 

“That’s your favorite song, isn’t it?”

Your eyes widened, spinning around at the sound of the voice that clearly did not belong to Robin’s. When you realized who it was, your heart nearly stopped.

Not a single word was uttered out as you stared at Aventurine. He in turn looked back at you with those soulless eyes of his— ones you used to think were the most beautiful ones in the entire universe. 

A nonchalant smile was etched onto his lips as if this was just a simple reunion of old acquaintances. “Though I would say I prefer ‘Hope Is the Thing With Feathers’, even if it isn’t my usual genre of mu—“ 

Aventurine blinked as your sharp blade met his face only inches away from actual contact. He was caught off-guard, but ultimately his signature smirk returned to his expression. “Now, now, is this a way to greet a former colleague?”

”I already told all of you, I’m not coming back.” You replied bluntly.

With a low laugh, he pushed your sword aside without a care. “You’re not coming back to who, specifically?” Aventurine stepped closer.  “To the IPC, or me?” His voice lowered to a whisper.

“You—“ Your face heated up with infuriation, or perhaps even something else. “I’m not trying to play into the executives’ tricks. My resignation is final, and I don’t care how many of their underdogs they send just to hunt me down.” 

Moving to him, you made sure to assert your own stand on the matter regarding your former employers. “I am simply a third party that they hired, and I no longer wish to pursue the line of work they assign to me.” 

The Interastral Peace Corporation was far from a protector of unity, even if it was what they claimed to be. Those who have been unfortunate enough to experience their unethical ways and exploitation know that well. 

Both you and Aventurine were familiar to this dark truth.

He seemed to remember this as he no longer had an aura of confidence. It instead had a tinge of understanding. 

However, his demeanor once again switched up. Removing his hat with another smile, he replied, “Oh, but I never said I was here on behalf of the IPC.” 

“The IPC is on the Charmony Festival’s VIP list. ” You deadpanned, not believing the statement entirely. 

A half-hearted chuckle escaped from Aventurine. But he managed to recover quickly. “Well, perhaps you’re right. But that would mean you actually cared enough to keep that in mind, no?” 

“That’s not the point.” 

“You’re right, I’ll cut straight to the chase,” He leaned in, his face now serious.

“Why don’t you begin by explaining why you simply vanished without telling me?” 

You visibly tensed, your eyes avoiding his firm gaze. 

It was difficult to speak. You were genuinely scrambling to form a proper explanation in your head, expecting Aventurine to start demanding answers to more of his questions. But he only stared at you with a quiet intensity as he waited.  “You were on a mission. I didn’t want to disturb you and possibly cause it to fail.” You finally said. 

Mustering the strength to look up to his eyes again, you could see that they were distant, yet intensely present. A paradox that made it impossible to tell what Aventurine was feeling. 

“…Is that really it?” He muttered, before clearing his throat and returning his closed-mouth smile. It was intimidating how quickly the Stoneheart could change his demeanor. “It can’t be helped, I suppose.”

“But come on, did you really have to block my number too?” 

The guilt in your heart only worsened. “I just don’t want to involve you in the conflict I’m in.” You retorted, almost giving in to the emotions stirring within you. Your tone grew strict once more in order to counter this. “Listen, we shouldn’t even be talking. The walls have eyes and ears.” 

“So you still care about me then?” quipped Aventurine, disregarding the rest of what you’ve said.  You blinked, momentarily speechless. But you managed to ignore his comment. “You should just go. Please.”

The small curl on his lips stayed, replying, “But this is my room.”  His room…? 

”What do you mean?” You asked warily, not sure on what he had up his sleeve. But the dots connected once he pulled out a Dreamscape card out of his clothes. It was identical to yours. 

“Room 431. Is this not proof enough?” The gambler’s eyebrows raised innocently.  Knowing his tendencies, the expression on your face turned into a scowl. “You’re insane. It all makes sense now— you bribed that receptionist?” 

“What can I say, I’m one helpless man.” Aventurine slid the card back to his pockets. “But I’m sure you already know how desperate I can get for what I want.” 

Before you could even come up with a snarky reply, he added, “Nothing can make me convince you? Not even the fact that our room number is our anniversary date? If that’s not enough, then you could consider rearranging the numbers and realize that it also spells out 143.” 

You were seriously close to tweaking out. “Aventurine, you can’t possible be serio—“ 

“No? Okay, then how about you go open your bank account for me and see that I—“ 

“For Aeons’ sake! I told you to leave, didn’t I?!” You gasped out, silence forming between you two. Though with an exception for Robin’s album playing in the background, almost ashamed as the vinyl stopped moving on cue. 

Aventurine’s expression looked blank, not expecting this sort of reaction from you. He withdrew a couple inches back, shoulders tense.

Regaining composure, you muttered. “…Just go.” With that, you turned your back away from him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The tension in the air seemed to hang for an eternity, before he replied, “Okay. See you.” He seemed reluctant to leave, his footsteps heavy and slow as he turned. 

Part of you wanted to yell at yourself for acting that way towards your ex, especially one you haven’t completely moved on from. But you firmly thought to yourself that this was the right decision.

It was only an attempt to deceive you. That’s what you kept in mind the entire time. You managed to keep your feelings buried this entire time, meaning this was no time to falter. So why are you only realizing now that the look of emotion in those dull eyes of his could possibly be real? 

The efforts you’ve made have gone to waste with just one word. “Wait.”

Almost as if Aventurine was waiting for this moment, he stopped and turned swiftly. “Changed your mind?”

You wanted to scoff at how fast he jumped onto conclusions, but it wasn’t like he was wrong either.  “I didn’t block you. I just changed my number.” The thought of turning around and facing him fully would hurt your dignity even more, so you simply threw a card to his direction. Of course, Aventurine caught it with ease. His fingers were always efficient.

“So you just casually have cards like these?” He smiled playfully, although you refused to look at him properly. “Have you given this out to any other man so far?” 

“Those are business cards.”  “Oh, so this is only for business purposes. I see.” He mused. “Then, I’ll certainly find the time to contact you if I’m in some trouble, yeah?” 

You waved him off, not saying another word. Luckily, he decided not to push on your buttons any longer. 

As Aventurine exited the room and shut the door behind him, you couldn’t bear to keep yourself from groaning at what you just impulsively did.

That exchange was only for professional purposes, surely.

a/n: helloooo! thank you for reading up to this point, chapter 2 is available on my ao3 and will be posted on my tumblr once i drop chapter 3 :3 divider creds @/cafekitsune

[thejournallo]

Explain the basics: CHAKRA

While witchcraft and chakras come from different spiritual traditions, some modern witches blend the two by incorporating energy work from Eastern practices. Even though chakras aren't originally part of witchcraft, understanding them can guide us toward areas where we need to heal or deepen our spiritual practice. Recognizing and working with chakras can help us open up more fully to the spiritual world.

What Are Chakras and How Do They Work?

Chakras might sound mystical, but they're essentially energy centers within your body. The concept comes from ancient Indian traditions like Hinduism and Buddhism. The word "chakra" means "wheel" in Sanskrit, representing spinning energy that flows through us. There are seven main chakras, and each one plays a unique role in your physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

Let’s break them down:

Root Chakra (Muladhara): Located at the base of your spine, this chakra is all about feeling grounded and secure. It relates to your basic needs—think survival, safety, and stability.

Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana): Just below your belly button, this chakra governs your emotions, creativity, and sexual energy. It's about pleasure and how you connect with others.

Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura): Right around your stomach, this one is your center of personal power. Confidence, self-esteem, and willpower are all connected here.

Heart Chakra (Anahata): In the middle of your chest, the heart chakra is all about love—both for yourself and others. It’s where compassion, kindness, and emotional balance reside.

Throat Chakra (Vishuddha): At your throat, this chakra is linked to communication and self-expression. It’s your voice—literally and metaphorically.

Third Eye Chakra (Ajna): Between your eyebrows, this one taps into intuition and spiritual insight. It’s the seat of your inner wisdom.

Crown Chakra (Sahasrara): Located at the top of your head, this chakra connects you to the universe, spiritual consciousness, and enlightenment.

How Do Chakras Work?

Think of your chakras as energy hubs. They take in, distribute, and release energy throughout your body, influencing everything from your mood to your physical health. When they’re in balance, you feel good—physically, emotionally, and mentally. But when a chakra is blocked or overactive, it can cause problems like stress, anxiety, or even illness.

For example, if your heart chakra is blocked, you might struggle with feelings of isolation or difficulty in relationships. But if it’s open and balanced, you’ll feel connected, loved, and able to give love freely.

Does Chakra Energy Flow Inside Us?

Yes, chakra energy flows within you. It’s often called "prana" (life force) or "chi" in other traditions. This energy moves through channels in the body called "nadis." When prana flows freely, you feel balanced and vibrant. But if there’s a blockage—like emotional stress or physical tension—it can disrupt the flow and lead to imbalances in your life.

The good news is that there are plenty of practices to help keep your energy flowing, like yoga, meditation, and breathwork. These tools help clear any blockages and ensure your chakras are in harmony, allowing you to feel more centered and connected in daily life.

Some practice that may include chakra in it:

Understanding Chakras: In Eastern spiritual traditions, particularly in Hinduism and Buddhism, chakras are believed to be energy centers in the body. There are typically seven main chakras, running from the base of the spine to the crown of the head, each associated with specific physical, emotional, and spiritual aspects.

Energy Work in Witchcraft: Many forms of witchcraft involve working with energy, whether for healing, spellcasting, or spiritual transformation. Practitioners may visualize, manipulate, or direct energy in rituals and practices.

Possible Connections: Some modern witches who also work with chakras might integrate chakra practices into their witchcraft rituals. For example:

Aligning Energies: They may use chakra meditation or visualization techniques to balance their own energy before performing rituals or spells.

Correspondences: Each chakra is associated with certain qualities (like creativity, intuition, or grounding). A witch might choose rituals or spells that correspond with the qualities of a specific chakra to enhance their magical work.

Personal Pathways: It’s important to note that the way chakras are integrated into witchcraft practices can vary widely depending on individual beliefs and traditions. Some may view chakras strictly through the lens of their original cultural and spiritual context, while others may adapt these concepts in a more eclectic or personalized manner.

[saintmurd0ck]

lakeside dreamin'

masterlist

pairing: jedi general anakin skywalker x f!reader

summary: anakin reminisces about your lives together while he's away fighting in the clone wars

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of canon events in TCW, canon typical mentions of warfare, some smut/spice, mentions of sex, minors DNI 18+ only

a/n: to the one anon who requested this maybe a year ago? i saw clone wars anakin and it was over for my brain 🫠 anyway love you guys and leave a comment or reblog if you liked this! 🥺

song pairing: love on the brain (rihanna)

The war was taking its toll.

Day after day, planet after planet, all Anakin knew now was his place on the battlefield. And his role in leading the victory for the Jedi and the Republic, even though their dogma preached peace, not violence. Every skirmish brought a new kind of horror to his once uncomplicated life, whether it was watching Separatist droids and clone troopers alike, cut down as easily as marsh reeds, or the simple fact that his relationship with the Force was dwindling towards something impure. Something he couldn’t make sense of, and would surely raise more questions than answers if he were to confide in his Masters. It wasn’t that he contemplated reaching towards the Dark side, or thought of the kind of evil only the Sith could endure; it was more like an isolating numbness that spread from within, and before long, Anakin felt the cloud settle over his mind.

He was tired of seeing smoke — the kind that billowed in every direction, stinking of despair and lost hope on his front, despite the war turning to the Republic’s favour. It was the sound of unending blaster fire and the repetitive ignition of his lightsaber that haunted his nightmares, and with only the company of his clone legion, his Padawan Ahsoka and the occasional appearance from Obi-Wan, he felt himself starting to slip.

He was overwhelmed, and encumbered with burden. 

Never before had he experienced such guilt, anger and suffering — towards his army, towards the civilians caught in the crossfire, and towards his relationship with you. 

The secret life the two of you led, away from the Order, felt like something out of another galaxy, another lifetime. It was as if eons had passed since he’d last seen you, and yet the world was constantly evolving — not towards freedom, but into a more destructive version of its past. Even for a Jedi General (and, one could argue, because he was a Jedi General), Anakin had little comfort, and much less sway in which systems he visited and what he took part in. Seeing you was absolutely out of the question, but it wasn’t like he bothered to even ask, out of fear of inviting a lecture from Obi-Wan, or Maker-forbid, an audience with Master Yoda. 

At least things like facilitating training for the Onderon rebels allowed him to feel more of himself, and to an extent, a sort of unity with the Council, but all of that was quickly replaced by the more sinister side of the Separatist Alliance, such as the trainwreck on Zygerria. Liberation didn’t exist there. Not until Anakin showed up.

It was these events that really compelled him to look inwards, to not just seek the Force’s guidance, but to use it in tandem with a coping mechanism that would get him through the war. 

And so the vignettes began. Slowly, at first. 

It started off as little glimpses of your life together, slices of euphoric nostalgia that weaved their way into Anakin’s being. He didn’t realise just how much he yearned for you; not simply the way your skin felt on his, but the pureness of your energy, the reminder that good truly did exist in this world. As much as these images were a solace to his sanity, they brought about a sense of malaise. Contrition, actually, if he sought the Force for the purpose of clarity. Even though it all existed in his head, allowing himself these indulgences felt like once again, he was breaking Code. 

But could it really have been that bad, if it honed his focus? If it drew him back to the bigger picture, of the why? Reminding himself of who it was he fought for didn’t erase the atrocities, but it gave him that flicker of hope, knowing that the sum of his actions equalled a better world for you. 

And some selfish, miniscule part of him figured that if he could lead the victory, he’d be pardoned when the Order inevitably found out about the life the two of you shared. It isn’t as if no-one already knew. He was sure Ahsoka was aware. Rex, too. He doubted when it came to Obi-Wan, but then again very little got past his Master. 

While the memories of you lay fresh before his eyes, they seemed to sharpen at specific points throughout the day; often in the thick of battle, or when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, nothing but thin shafts of moonlight illuminating his body. It’s like they were stitched perfectly amongst the real action, scattered at perfect intervals that jerked his body into manoeuvre.

The sweetest images had always featured the lake. 

Armed with nothing more but his wits, his back pressed against the cold, wet stone in a cave on Vanqor, he reminisced about that first night with you by the lakeside. The sweet smell of wildflowers carried in the breeze, heightened by his affinity for the Force. He recalled the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore, and how the two moons cast their milky glow upon the shimmering surface of the water. And you — radiant, almost ethereal in the soft light, and the way your lips brushed against his neck, filling him with the kind of heat that flooded all at once. Not even the screech of the pursuing gundark could have interrupted this moment in time. He felt his breathing go ragged, because he remembered what happened next. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the way he moved inside you, and how you tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing chaste kisses to his mouth, his chest, whispering his name in sinful bliss. The gundark didn’t stand a chance. Not when Anakin’s motivation for getting out alive laid in sweet promise, embedded in these visions.

His name felt the most natural rolling off your tongue, nevermind that that was truly the last real thing he possessed, unmarred by time and the influence of the Jedi. In that moment, when you’d taken him over the edge with you, crying his name so loud he swore someone had heard, he knew he’d give it over to you if you’d asked.

He thought of the lake again when he was in Felucia, crouched low amongst the sillum. His lightsaber grew heavy in his hand, the ridges suddenly awkward in his palm, but the grip he’d started to lose on his lifeline gave rise to something he couldn’t ignore. 

It was another temperate day and the sun had created the most brilliant reflections on the surface of the lake. With the grasses and trees swaying in the wind, Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. He didn’t prod or poke, but rather he cast a wide net, a delicate caress, to connect with the life that teemed. It sang to him in a multi-layered harmony, acting as a prominent reminder that the Force flowed in all living things. And when his eyes fluttered open, he watched you carefully as you walked towards the water, your feet crunching on the smooth pebbles that made up the beach. You turned around to give him a dazzling smile, moving with deliberation to slip off your clothes. Your laughter echoed in the crisp air as you dived into the lake, disappearing under a swathe of emerald green, only to resurface in the middle with a large grin plastered to your face. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, to shed his clothing on the spot. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of what happened shortly after. 

Sometimes it was hard to return to the present, to remember that he’d sleep alone that night while you were only just waking up, systems away, most likely after another fitful slumber.  There were times where he thought these visions would serve no other purpose than to derail him, when the temptation of your touch shadowed his desire for victory. These moments guided him to channel the Force within, so as to remind himself of why he was doing this in the first place. Because it was more than just a coping mechanism. It was an anchor. A thrumming pulse point. A gentle acknowledgement of the life he wanted to come back to.

It’s then that he wondered when enough would be enough, when the war would come to a stalemate, as it so often did in their history. The tide was turning, and he knew it.

And there it was again, that kernel of hope, that ember of light that shone in the depths of his soul. Even reduced to a ghost in his memory, you were tangible, so tangible now. He wouldn’t let the Separatists win. He couldn’t, because there was too much at stake. And so if thinking of you, in these ways, helped him remember that, he wasn’t going to stop. 

Not for anyone. 

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ everybody talks!

"it started with a whisper, and that was when i kissed her!" —neon trees

note: fun fact this was supposed to be titled friends by chase atlantic but then i started going for a cliche hs romance vibe cause i went and listened to a 90s playlist um ANYWAYS @hopelesslyromanticshark HEYYY TWIN SURPRISE MAYBE?? IT WAS ME ALL ALONG 😈😈 ps this doubles as my apology for the pronunciation confusion FORGET I EVER STARTED THAT

content: leo valdez x reader, childhood best friends to lovers, mortal au; oneshot, 4.3k words

warnings: jealousy, little bit of angst (typical teenage drama 🙄), like one mention of not wanting to live, cursing, google translated spanish, lots of pov switches (my bad 😓), vague spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes (like two lines abt it), clumsy confessions, denial (is it really denial if you just suck at feelings??)

"that was supposed to be my ice cream!" you marched up to a curly-headed boy, face scrunched up in childish anger. your parents were too busy catching up with friends to notice that you had strayed off.

said curly-headed boy turned to the sound of a shrill voice, his eyes meeting a pouty face with cheeks red in the summer heat. he raised the cone in his hand a bit higher. "this one?"

you nodded eagerly, hoping he was going to give it to you. "yeah!" you stretched out your hand to grab it from him, but the boy pulled it away at the last second.

he smiled mischievously, dimples flashing as he stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe up the stacked swirls of ice cream. "too bad!"

you gasped at the utter audacity of the other child, your bottom lip starting to tremble. one sniffle. two. soon, you were downright bawling on the sidewalk. the boy’s jaw dropped, his feet taking panicked little steps in place as he looked around.

"hey! hey, you can't cry! i'll ask my mama to buy you one!" he squeaked, trying to comfort you. he patted your back, which was quite hard to do with him bouncing around and holding an ice cream cone.

your sobs were quickly reduced into a sniffle as you blinked at him. "..really? and you're not gonna steal it this time?"

he nodded enthusiastically. "yep! i mean, no! i won't steal it!" he took your hand and ran to his mom, dragging you along.

you ran behind him, your tears replaced with excitement at the newly promised ice cream.

"mama!" the boy called out, stopping in front of a kind-looking woman who looked just like him. "meet my new friend!"

you smiled a bit shyly at the lady, giving her a wave.

she returned the gesture with a smile of her own, before facing the boy with a slight frown. "leo! sus padres podrían estar buscándola! did you ask her parents if she was allowed to go with you?" she chided, pinching his ear lightly.

leo cried out as his mother pinched his ear, even though he barely felt it. "no..! but le debo un helado!" he whined, shaking your interlocked hands for effect. "can you buy her one mama? pleaseee?"

she sighed in defeat, giving into two pairs of puppy eyes. "alright, alright. but we find her parents first, okay? what's your name?" she gave you a little wink, taking your other hand.

"i'm y/n!" you said with a bright smile as she agreed to get you a new ice cream. "my mommy and daddy are over there!" you pointed to a spot not too far from where you stood.

leo's mom nodded, leading your little trio in the direction you said. soon enough, you were reunited with your parents, who gave you a gentle scolding and thanked her. she explained the situation between you and leo, at which all the parents laughed at, much to your confusion. what was so funny about getting your (well, not exactly yours but you had your eyes on it, so, it was technically yours) ice cream stolen?

whatever, at least you got it at the end of the day—and a new friend!

ever since then, the two of you stuck together like glue. if elementary school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would throw a hissy fit. if your high school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would make up some elaborate bullshit about how well you guys work together and how productive the two of you would be (you were sure they never believed it, but they paired up the both of you anyway).

"like i know she probably didn’t get enough love as a child or something but does she have to take it out on her students? why even be a teacher?” you waved your hand in the air, the mess of papers on the desk long forgotten.

"exactly, like she really needs therapy." leo took his bite-ridden pencil out of his mouth to add a point.

"totally,” you agreed. “too bad it’s so expensive, otherwise-“

a cough behind you made you and leo turn around, already dreading the punishment about to befall you. you smile sheepishly at your history teacher, who had her arms crossed. "another word and i'll send you two to detention, you hear?"

the both of you shut your mouths and nodded in sync, waiting until she turned around to whisper. "she's feeling merciful today."

"detention!"

guess not.

you slumped against the desk, resting your head against your arms and sighed loudly. the teacher in charge of detention for the day gave you a glare, turning the page to his boring book about finance or something. you rolled your eyes once he looked away, and looked up at the clock. five more minutes.

you tapped a message on the desk, the morse code leo forced you to learn coming in handy once again. i'm so bored.

leo's head perked up from the similar slouch he was in. me too.

i'm coming over. you rapped your finger against the smooth wood. you were hungry just thinking about him and his mom's tacos. if you didn't know how much leo wanted to be a mechanic, you'd probably beg him to open a restaurant.

a little forward aren't you? he drummed his fingers back, raising his eyebrow.

just as you were about to reply, you were cut off with a "shh!" from the teacher, who then looked at his watch. he gave it a scowl, but motioned for the two of you to leave. "you're free to go."

the two of you raced to the door, eager to get out of the stuffy classroom.

"oh my gosh i thought he was never gonna let us leave!" you groaned, tugging on your backpack straps as you walked home with leo.

"i know! can't believe he wasted our precious hanging out time like that!" leo scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder.

you laughed, shoving him back. "exactly!"

the two of you walked in peaceful silence, up until leo tapped you on the shoulder and shouted, "tag, you're it!" and ran off ahead.

who runs with a backpack on? you didn't care, chasing after him and trying to get him. "not fair!" you yelled.

sprinting all the way, you made it to his house, panting and out of breath. as he leaned against the doorway, you smacked him upside the head. "you're it."

you didn't want to spend your friday afternoon doing extra work, but leo wanted the help and who were you to deny him? you knew it'd probably end up with the two of you on the couch, curled up next to each other and watching a (usually) pirated movie.

"so," leo started. you two were sprawled on your stomachs, doing homework on his wooden floor.

"what is it now?" you exhaled with exaggeration, not looking up from your book. your english teacher had said to read two chapters, but was that really enough? you were too invested, completely forgetting that you were supposed to help him analyze it.

"..wanna take a break?" he was already getting to his feet, looking down at you with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you pretended to think. "hm, i don't know... shakespeare's getting really interesting..." you shrugged and turned back to your book.

leo pouted. "seriously!? he just spews random bullshit and everyone thinks its poetic!"

you kicked his foot, not letting the insult slide. "you know what? now i'm really not gonna take a break."

"oh come on! if i make you birria tacos will you come with me? my mom's been simmering the meat since earlier," he bargained, waggling his eyebrows.

"..maybe."

"holy shit." you moaned in bliss as you took a bite of one of the tacos leo had so kindly prepared. he chuckled at your reaction, it was the same every time he made it.

he grinned proudly, taking his plate from the coffee table and setting it on his lap. "good, right?" he switched on the tv, resting his other arm on the back of the couch.

you let out an unintelligible noise of agreement, mouth stuffed. you swallowed. "can we watch the new hunger games movie?"

he hummed, taking out his laptop and searching for it on some illegal website. "again? we already watched it in the theaters."

you rolled your eyes. "yes, again. it's my turn to pick."

his lips quirked up the slightest. "yeah, yeah." he clicked on the movie, connected his laptop to the tv and pressed play.

the two of you were watching intently as coriolanus snow kissed lucy gray like a starved man.

"goddamn," you breathed out.

"i know." leo nodded, his eyes flicking to you for a moment. your legs were folded under the blanket you guys shared. during the duration of the movie, the two of you had somehow huddled closer together, probably due to the cold, he thought. his arm was now over your shoulder, your knees touching his.

he felt something stir in his heart. maybe it was the kissing scene, maybe it was the underlying feeling of sadness that came with winter, but god did he suddenly get overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting a girlfriend. he'd probably flirt with every girl in the world if it meant he could find true love. he suddenly felt hyper-aware of the way you were nestled in his arms, of the casual way you two touched each other. leo would love to do these things in a romantic sense. but, not with you, of course. i mean, you were his bestest friend, it'd be weird to think otherwise.

your heart fluttered wildly as you played it cool, not letting the way his legs were intwined with yours affect you. you didn't know exactly when you started feeling this way, all you knew was that something about his touch never failed to send you sparks of fire.

but fire burns.

you heard leo suck in a breath. "you know your friend alicia?"

you froze, the butterflies in your stomach turning into ash. "yeah, she's my friend, 'course i'd know her."

"great, so you wouldn't mind setting me up with her, right?" he winked at you, tugging at the ends of your hair.

you bit your tongue, mood dampening. why did he always have to ruin the moment by asking about some other girl? i mean, am i not enough or something? "..i'll think about it."

he frowned. usually you'd agree right away. "is that a yes?"

"i told you i'd think about it, now can we just watch?" you turned back to the tv, eyes looking but not seeing.

leo didn't seem to get the hint, still pushing the topic. "why think? it's not like you haven't done it before! are you really not gonna help your best friend out?"

"maybe i'm really not," you said sarcastically. it was getting more and more difficult to keep the irritation from your voice, and he was already starting to notice.

"whoa, okay, what're you so mad about?" he took his arm off your shoulder, turning to face you directly. "did i say something wrong?"

"nope."

he took your sardonic tone as your usual sarcasm and kept prodding. "okay... so you'll help me then? i mean, that's all you're for! you don't wanna be my best friend and do your job?" he laughed, poking fun at you like usual. but the feeling in your gut twisted his offhand comment in a way that hurt.

"if you're just gonna keep me around to set you up with a bunch of girls then maybe i don't want to be your friend anymore!" you snapped, agitation finally breaking the thin mask of patience you had.

leo set down his empty plate on the table, needing to give his hands something to do. "i was just- you know that's not why you're my friend!" he chuckled incredulously.

you stayed silent, letting his words dissolve in the air.

his eyebrows furrowed at your lack of response, as if trying to decipher the finality of your words. "you don't.. you don't mean that do you?"

"maybe i do." you stood up, the blanket falling off your legs. you grabbed your backpack, a reminder of what you guys were supposed to be working on.

leo quickly followed suit, springing to his feet and speeding after you as you walked towards the front door. "wait! i was just kidding! c'mon we can talk about this!" a hint of desperation seeped into his voice as he grabbed your wrist.

"we already did." you shot him a glare over your shoulder. he froze. he'd never seen that aimed at him. playful irritation, sure, but never that. not to him. his hand dropped your arm in shock, and you took your leave.

"i said, are you trying to kill me!?" the tv was still on.

the walk to school was quiet without leo, that you'd admit. you even got up a half hour early just so you wouldn't see him. yeah, it was a little petty, but you weren't exaggerating in your words. he had other friends, you had other friends—you're choosing to ignore the fact that half of them were mutual—you guys would be fine without each other. especially you.

except you forgot the fact that you guys were seated next to each other for nearly all your classes. that was awkward. everyone around you sensed the tension in the air, with you pointedly looking away from leo, at the board, and him trying to do the same. you could feel his leg shake the table as he bounced his knee, as well as the side glances he gave you.

even so, you continued to ignore him and the stupidly cute way his lips pursed into a frown. you weren't getting over it that easy.

leo fucked up. like, seriously fucked up. he hasn't fucked up this bad since.. well, since his invention quite literally blew up in his face. but this? this was like your friendship figuratively blew up in his face! and it felt even worse. he took a deep breath, rolling over in his bed with his blanket half-off. he brought the fabric up to his nose, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume that had stayed since last friday. without you, his thoughts felt louder than usual. they ran free in his mind, ranging from what should i eat for dinner? to god, did i mess up our whole friendship? was i taking her for granted when i kept asking her for relationship advice? why did i even do that? i didn't even really like any of those girls. what's wrong with me?

he curled up into a ball, squeezing the blanket to his chest and burying his face in it. leo willed himself to cry, but no tears would come. the overwhelming feeling in his chest had no way to escape. his heart thumped heavily, each painful beat reminding him of why he should've never been allowed to live.

"...and that's why you should- hey! are you even listening?" piper frowned, raising an eyebrow at leo, who was picking at his food.

he didn't answer, too busy moving the gross cafeteria food around his tray as he drooped against the table.

"okay, i know that you've got your little lover's quarrel with y/n, but you've gotta stop sulking and start doing." piper crossed her arms, eyeing him with a very unimpressed look. "did you seriously not hear a word i said? talk to her! apologize! it's been a week already!"

leo groaned, his head resting in his arms. “i know! and- wait did you just say ‘lover’s quarrel!?’” his head shot up, face feeling warm all of a sudden. “pipes, she’s just a friend! like you!”

piper gave him a disbelieving hum. “‘just a friend’ my ass! everyone can see how you look at her!” that’s why all the girls you make her set you up with never go on a second date.

leo genuinely looked confused. “what? i look at her normally, what are you talking about?”

jason, who was silent throughout the whole exchange, chortled a laugh. the two whipped their heads to him, the sudden noise from him surprising. "are you serious? leo, i don't think even i'm that oblivious!" he shared a look with piper that only the two would understand. ugh. another couple thing leo feels he'll never get.

leo's eye twitched. "oblivious about what? y/n's my best friend, i don't see what's so weird about that!"

the pair sighed. "you'll get it one day," jason said firmly, clapping him on the shoulder with solemn resolution.

"okay..?"

a whole week. leo had never gone without talking to you for a whole week! this was driving him insane! yeah, he knew you were mad at him and by default, he was supposed to be mad at you, but it was too much! next period, leo thought resolutely. i'll get her to talk to me next period. which just so happened to be his last period because although he had been thinking of this the whole day, he was too nervous to confront you earlier. he took a deep breath in and walked into chemistry class.

fate must hate him. or maybe his science teacher. right when when he slipped into his seat beside you, she clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. "class! today were going to be switching seats!" leo swore he saw her look at him as he said that. what did he ever do to her!? his heart sunk as he realized he might not sit next to you anymore. surely the teacher's gonna keep us together? i mean, they've all done that since like, the start of the year! she won't be any different.. right?

oh he was so wrong. leo pouted in his spot at the back of the class, watching you from across the room as you chatted it up with some jock. why is she being so smiley!? isn't she supposed to be mad? i mean, yeah, she's only mad at me, but doesn't that mean she's supposed to be grumpy in general!? why am i the only one who looks affected by this!?

the girl next to him cleared her throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. "uh, we need to start the experiment," she said without emotion, as if the mere action of talking to him was boring. seriously, why did everyone hate him today? it's not like they know anything that happened!

"oh.. right." leo took his notebook out and set it to the side, moving the vials to the center of the desk. he felt the girl's stare dig into his side, like she was looking at him with disdain. leo sighed. this was going to be a long period.

how did leo even end up here? parties weren't really his thing. he only came because he heard that you'd be here, but you were nowhere to be seen. leo leaned against a wall, trying not to look like a complete loser as he stood by himself. he took out his phone, navigating to his trusty weather app. where were you? if not you, then jason and piper? even percy or annabeth would do! they're probably each hooking up in a bathroom or something.. he thought with a grimace, trying to get the mental picture out of his head. leo wandered around with a cup of fanta, hoping to see you in the crowd.

you sipped from your red solo cup, the bubbly taste of soda delightfully stinging your tongue. this party's kinda boring... it'd be more fun with- you cut off your thoughts with a shake of your head. whatever. you had girl friends you could hang out with. as you made your way to them, a tap on your shoulder got your attention.. is it..? you turned around. it wasn't. you ignored the feeling in your stomach and smiled at the familiar—but not familiar enough—face of your new seatmate.

"oh hey! i didn't know you were coming!" you greeted with a smile.

he laughed, raising his eyebrow. "you think i'd miss this? i mean, look at me!" he gestured to himself quite vainly. "i throw these kinds of parties!"

you chuckled, nodding along to be polite. "uh, yeah, for sure!"

the both of you fell into an awkward silence that seemed to stretch out for forever.

leo spotted you across the room, the chatter around him seeming to die down as he saw you with that guy. i mean, seriously, he wasn't even your type! and, he'd know your type! like, weren't you guys just talking shit about jason's football friends? you could do so much better. like.. like me. leo's eyes widened. holy fuck. that's it! the feeling in his chest was akin to tightening the last screw of his project. the words his two friends had said to him earlier came rushing back with sudden clarity. they day he finally got it was sooner than expected. with a determined blaze in his heart, he slipped through the crowd and made his way to you.

you took the lull in your conversation as a sign to go to your other friends. "so, i'm gonna-"

"hey, i was going to-" he started.

the both of you stopped mid-sentence after speaking at the same time. you guys laughed it off, with you waving off his muttered apology.

"you can go first," you said, dipping your head at him to continue.

he cleared his throat, looking into your eyes intently. "well, i was wondering if you'd wanna go ou-"

"y/n!" leo strode up to you as if the fight between the two of you had never happened.

your face scrunched up in confusion, too perplexed to remember that you were supposed to be ignoring him. "leo? what are you-" he cut you off, directing his words to the other guy.

"hey, sorry if i interrupted something, but i gotta talk to y/n for a sec," leo flashed his teeth, mischievous dimples showing.

the jock's eyes widened as he took a step back. "oh.. oh, my bad man! i didn't think you guys were- are you really?" he laughed with obvious embarrassment, shaking his head as he retreated. "guess so.." he muttered under his breath as he faded into the crowd.

leo's hand slipped around your waist as he weaved the both of you in between people. his jaw was clenched, a sight you've only seen when he was concentrated on one of his many inventions. "what the hell are you doing?" you repeated your question, ignoring the way his touch sent familiar sparks down your spine. you shied away from it, half to push away your feelings and the other to keep up your fight out of pure pettiness.

his hand twitched as you moved away, his eyes narrowing as he stared straight ahead. but leo made no move to grab you again, ever the gentleman. "just come with me. please."

his tone itself was enough to make you listen to him without question. never had you seen him so.. serious. you found yourselves in an empty guest room, music thumping softly behind the walls.

"y/n," leo murmured, finally speaking as he turned around. his eyes were shifty, looking everywhere but directly into yours. you could see the way he chewed on the inside of his lip, as if rehearsing the words he had yet to say.

"i- i don't want you to talk to that guy." he blurted out after a beat of silence. his cute face wasn't enough to distract you from his words, however.

"excuse me?" you stared at him, your rose-tinted glasses shattering immediately.

leo shifted on his feet, realizing how off-putting he sounded. "not- not like that! sorry, i mean like-" he swallowed thickly, his leg starting to bounce.

"fuck i really suck at this, huh?" he muttered under his breath, before daring to look into your eyes.

"i mean i want you to talk to me instead because.. i like you. i want to be the one you talk to, like we used to. but- more than that because i like like you." he fumbled over his words, trailing off at the end as his eyes dipped down once again.

what? you opened your mouth to answer but he beat you to it to continue.

"i'm really sorry for how i acted like a jerk. and taking you for granted and making you set me up with practically every girl you knew. to tell you the truth, i don't know why i did that, 'cause i never really like any of 'em. or i thought i did and then i just, didn't and-" he would've rambled on forever if you hadn't cut him off with a kiss.

you heard him squeak in the back of his throat, hands tensing at his sides before gingerly wrapping around your waist, as if he was scared of messing up again. the both of you pulled away after a soft minute, his disbelieving eyes staring back at your playful expression. boy, did he miss the way you looked at him like that.

"took you long enough." you laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. "better not make me set you up with anyone ever again."

his face broke into a wide grin, never faltering even as you punched him. he brought you back into his arms, hugging you tightly. "the only person i'd want to be set up with is you." he drew back only slightly, his hands trailing up your body until he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks gently. "so? will you let me take you on a date?"

your smile was one that rivaled the sun, one he'd like to center his world around forever. "are you kidding? obviously!"

the kiss he gave you after was one you'd remember forever.

("twenty bucks jason, pay up!" piper whispered, peering through the crack in the door.

"..fuck.")

[anghraine]

I was talking to my students and then some family members about how the death of Elizabeth I and succession of James was necessarily an occasion of upheaval, even when it wasn't necessarily violent or flirting with treason or whatever. For one, the death of a monarch that will lead to a new dynasty (even a related one!) is not quite the same as a familiar figure inheriting the country's rule from their parent or grandparent. It's usually a bigger change, with dynamics of loyalties and affiliations shifting around—that's part of the reason Elizabeth delayed acknowledging James as her heir.

Typically, you'd see courtiers etc deserting a dying monarch in order to signal their loyalty to the new monarch, even if the old one wasn't actually dead yet. Elizabeth's reluctance to share royal power was fundamental to her reign and her public image, so it's not at all surprising that she would be loath to encourage that kind of desertion in any particular direction.

Of course, another thing that complicates the Elizabeth -> James succession is that she had reigned for a long time (44 years iirc). By the time she was dying, a good number of English people had few personal memories of life under any other monarch, and those who did would remember the abrupt and unstable reigns of her predecessors, Edward and Mary. So James's accession came with uncertainty about what exactly it would entail, and a lot of late Elizabethan/early Jacobean drama in English is very concerned with questions of what obligations the governed owe to their monarchs (obedience? loyalty? are those always the same thing?), but also what obligations monarchs themselves have to their people.

This seemed especially pertinent to Lear, in which multiple characters defy capricious orders from a monarch or other authority out of loyalty: Kent challenges Lear and is banished, so skulks around in disguise to continue serving him, Edgar also skulks around in disguise after Gloucester renounces him and ends up offering what comfort he can to his father, and Cordelia returns to Britain with the French army in her ultimately futile attempt to help Lear. Meanwhile, Lear loses everything, is driven to take shelter in a peasant hovel, and starts to contemplate how his own failures as a king resulted in, well, peasant hovels.

Anyway, now I'm thinking about what a wild figure Elros must have been as, specifically, a monarch to the Númenóreans. He lived for five hundred years. Even his own children (also half-Elves! sort of!) and other descendants who benefited from his lifespan didn't live as long, and most Númenóreans during his earlier reign wouldn't have come near to it. Undoubtedly there were Elves who had known Elros in the First Age who were baffled at him choosing mortality and DEATH, and meanwhile on Númenor, there are all these people living out their extended lifespans under the reign of a half-Elf king who was ruling their people at their birth and would still be ruling after they died of old age. We know Elros retained his half-Elvish characteristics as well, so they've got this visibly Elvish, barely-aging, eternal king who looks like Lúthien as part of the fabric of life for centuries.

Yes, he's literally the first king—but for a lot of earlier Númenóreans, he's also the only king they will ever know. It takes him an incredibly long time to weary of the world as other mortals do. By the time Elros finally gets weary of Arda, and willingly lays down his life and passes to the unknown fate of mortals, Tar-Amandil is stepping into some very big shoes.

[dindjarindiaries]

Broken Wings - Chapter 1

summary: You meet Clone Force 99 when they fall into the same helpless situation as yourself, and you quickly find yourself getting tied up more and more with them—and their sergeant.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: strangers to lovers, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, loss of limb, trauma, eventual/mild smut, eventual pregnancy, canon character death, canon compliant

note: this story will follow tbb canon events, but quotes and other details will not always be 100% accurate to maintain originality

word count: 5.468k

series masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 1 ⟹

It was the sudden commotion that finally got you to lift your head from where it’d been tucked towards your chest. You reopened your eyes and focused your gaze on anything other than the leg you had stretched out in front of you as you listened closely to whatever was happening behind you.

“Wrecker, attempting to resist at this stage is not only ineffective, but also unwise.” The speaker’s voice was calm and pointed, despite the fact they were clearly a new captive of the same Zygerrians who had also taken you from the wreckage of your ship.

“I don’t care!” This voice was much rougher. Your brow furrowed as you kept listening to the exchange. “They can’t stop me from—.”

He was cut off by the sound of both crackling electricity and his own exclamation of pain. You huffed to yourself and shook your head, even as the weight of the device around your own neck grew heavier. Guess they can stop you.

“Take it easy, Wrecker.” There was another new voice, but this one was oddly familiar—though that may have been its low, smoky tone enticing you. “You need to save your energy.”

The next voice was unmistakable. “Yeah, and keep us from getting punished on your behalf.”

A clone. They’re clones.

Your eyes doubled in size, and your heart began to race inside your hollow chest. How could he have already sent a group of clone troopers after you? There was no possible way he had found you. You had made sure of it.

And, of course, the Zygerrians were taking this group of clones right over to the vacant space at your side. You closed your eyes and steadied yourself with a deep breath. Even if this was the end of your short road to freedom, you wouldn’t be letting them know how much it affected you.

“We’ve tolerated enough of your noise,” the Zygerrian that had been leading the group sneered at them. “Now keep quiet, or else.”

The rough voice you had heard, the one they called Wrecker, spoke up again. “Or else what?”

The sound of electricity and his own pain rang out again, along with the frustrated groans of his fellow troopers. You couldn’t help chuckling to yourself, despite the circumstances. This group of clones he had sent after you couldn’t even evade capture from a rogue group of Zygerrians.

Not that you could, either, but you had been unconscious when they found you. You didn’t even have a chance to fight them.

The Zygerrian walked away, joining those who stood guard around you. Their threat didn’t keep the group of clones from speaking, though they at least lowered their voices enough to keep their conversation more private. “Well, this is great,” the clone whose voice you had immediately recognized grumbled. “What do you think are our chances of getting out of this mess, Tech?”

“Seeing as I do not have the kind of data required to make a sound conclusion… I do not know.” The first voice you heard sounded nothing more than annoyed and curious.

Maybe it was the loneliness of sitting here for stars know how long or the madness of knowing you had been caught so quickly, but either way, you were the one to offer a response. “They’re low.” You narrowed your eyes, but still refused to look in their direction. “Especially if I get my hands on you.”

There was only stunned silence for a few heartbeats, but Tech recovered quickly enough to break it. “And what exactly have we done to earn such a threat from you?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Come on. You’re clones.” At least, one of them was. The others sounded similar enough for you to conclude they all were. “I know he sent you here.”

There was no silence in response to your words this time. There was only that smoky voice from before, uttering a single word that was genuine enough to make you question every preconceived notion you had just conjured up about these men. “Who?”

With a sigh, you finally turned your head to look at them. Immediately, you were struck by how different they all were. Their armor was mostly black instead of white, and it was painted with accents of red. You could tell they were all clones, but they still looked vastly different from one another, just as their voices had been. Your stare, however, was drawn to only one of them, the one who had just spoken.

Your heart started to race for a very different reason.

He had the familiar face of the clones, but every feature was sharper and more defined. Half his face was covered by a skull tattoo, and he had grown out his dark hair enough for him to need a bandana to hold most of it back—aside from a few pieces that framed his face. His brown eyes were nearly golden in this light, sparkling with both concern and intrigue as they focused on you.

You blinked a few times. He was handsome, very handsome, and it was the last thing you needed right now.

You willed the words to come, and after a few more moments, they did. “You really don’t know who I’m talking about?”

“Not unless it’s Cid.” Wrecker’s lame attempt at a hushed tone drew your gaze over to him. He was almost double the size of his fellow troopers, and the scarred skin around his whitened eye proved that he was no stranger to battle. The deep, dramatic gasp he took was a stark contrast to his otherwise tough exterior. “Do you think she could be Muchi?”

Tech spoke before you could, his chained hands pushing his goggles further up his nose as he did so. “Considering Cid made it clear that Muchi is an adolescent, I highly doubt it. Though…” his gaze flickered upward in consideration, “I suppose Cid seems old enough to perceive anyone younger than herself as a ‘kid.’”

You frowned. “I’m not a kid, and I’m not Muchi.”

The fourth member of their group, one who looked the most like the other clones you knew, returned your grimace, his eyes narrowed. “Then who are you, and who’s after you?”

You scoffed. “As if I’d ever tell you that.”

The one with the face tattoo gave you a softer look. His eyes were full of understanding, and while it was unnerving for him to see through you like this, it was also somewhat comforting. “Is there at least something we can call you for now?”

You thought for a moment, though the nickname came quickly: your callsign from the piloting academy. “Birdie.”

He nodded, and you could have sworn there was the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Well, Birdie, we’re not after you. We’re looking for someone named Muchi.”

The regular clone snapped his head towards this one. His voice was a low warning. “Hunter…”

Hunter. So far, these names of theirs seemed to have a significance that matched up with their personalities, and the sound of this one tied a knot of thick dread within your chest. It would make sense for him to send some kind of “hunter” clone after you.

Hunter offered his fellow trooper a reassuring nod. “Echo, it’s fine.” He rattled the chain that linked them together. “We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

You tightened your jaw. “I’m not gonna help you take someone against their will.” You looked down and added the next part under your breath. “Especially on behalf of the Empire.”

“We are not affiliated with the Empire.” You looked back up after Tech spoke, your brow furrowed. He took that as an invitation to continue, though his topic shift also took you aback. “What happened to your leg?”

You didn’t look at your leg as you tucked it underneath you the best you could. You barely bit back your whimper as it reignited the fiery pain that had long since been throbbing within it from your knee down. “It’s fine.”

You caught Hunter’s eye at just the right moment, seeing him level you with a glance that was both concerned and curious. You immediately shifted your focus back onto Tech.

“What do you mean you’re not with the Empire?” You shook your head. “All the clones are.”

Echo lifted his chin. He was the only one matching your defiant energy, and you liked that. “Not us.”

You gave him a half a smile, but before you could respond, Wrecker attempted another whisper in Hunter’s direction. “Hey, Sarge.” He jerked his head towards something overhead.

Your brow raised at his title. Hunter being their leader made sense, based on his calming aura and authoritative presence alone, but you were way more curious about what you were seeing than his position within this small squad.

There was a young girl scaling some of the rock structures surrounding the Zygerrians’ base, wearing similar colors to the clones themselves. Wisps of her short blonde hair fell around her face as she paused to wave in the clones’ direction, her brown eyes lit up with determination. 

You glanced back down at the squad just as Hunter gave her a subtle shake of his head. There was a look in his eye that you had never seen someone direct towards you, something that made his aura even more oddly comforting: protectiveness.

“Who’s that?” You couldn’t keep the question to yourself. The idea of rogue clones running around the galaxy with a young girl made little sense to you.

Hunter’s voice was filled with the same protectiveness you had seen as he spoke, though there was also an unmistakable layer of warmth. “She’s one of ours.”

The smile was impossible to keep off your lips as you caught both the fondness and the concern he had for her. It was reflected in the faces of the other clones, too, but there was something about Hunter’s tone specifically that had nearly been paternal.

You were getting way too curious about this group of clones.

Hunter finally looked around his squad. “She shouldn’t be here.”

Tech tilted his head. “Well, she is currently our best option at getting out of this… situation.”

“And finding Muchi,” Wrecker added.

Your mind suddenly flooded with dozens of questions that you wanted to ask them, specifically about whoever this Muchi person was that they were looking for, but you bit your tongue. If you somehow did manage to get out of this situation, you were taking the first ship you could find and getting the hell out of there. The less you knew about these clones, the better.

The girl was still making her best stealth approach when she suddenly slid, causing a few pieces of crumbled rock to hit the ground. The Zygerrians were alert, but before their heads could fully turn and investigate the situation, Wrecker spoke in a much louder tone than before. “You better get me out of these chains right now!”

The Zygerrians’ stares fell on him, and they exchanged a few amused looks before one of them stood forward. “And why is that?”

“Because.” Wrecker’s tone was threatening, and if you hadn’t gotten a hint of who he was underneath this guise, you would honestly be terrified. “I’ll lose it if you don’t. And you don’t wanna see what happens when I lose it.”

The Zygerrian frowned and started to open their mouth, but they were cut off as a commotion broke out near one of their giant crates. You looked, and your heart sank as you saw the young girl caught in the arms of two Zygerrians. Even if you didn’t really know her, it still sickened you to think of someone like her being captured by these kinds of people.

One look at the clone troopers told you exactly how they felt about it. Every single one of their faces were hardened in hardly-concealed fury.

Especially Hunter’s.

“Let me go!” The girl’s voice was strong and defiant, as were the kicks and tugs she gave them. You smiled at her, recognizing pieces of yourself in her.

“‘Atta girl,” you mumbled underneath your breath. “Give them hell.”

That made Hunter glance in your direction. You furrowed your brow, returning his stare with confusion. There was no possible way he had heard what you said.

“This is what you get for sneaking around,” one of the Zygerrians sneered at the girl.

“I wasn’t sneaking.” The girl held up her hand, showing them what was in her palm. It was a metal rod with a curved end. “I was unlocking.”

That’s when the cage she was near suddenly flew open, and your jaw dropped as a rancor ran out of it full-force. It roared into the sky before flinging the nearest Zygerrians aside.

“All right, now I’m gonna lose it!” Wrecker yelled the warning before pulling his bound hands apart, easily snapping the cuffs that had previously been restricting him.

Echo voiced the same thought you had. “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

Wrecker answered only after he’d torn the device off his neck. “Not without backup!”

It was pure chaos. The clone troopers were making quick work of freeing themselves and retrieving their gear while the Zygerrians were attempting to fight off the rancor, which was quickly charging away. You were trying to craft your own escape plan, but in the back of your mind, there was a hindrance that continued to eat away at you.

Your leg definitely wasn’t fine, and you had no idea how you were going to get anywhere on it.

Echo knelt down beside you and nodded. “I can get these off for you.”

Your brow shot up when he lifted an arm that had a flat-headed working tool on the end of it instead of a hand. Still, you nodded, refusing to miss an opportunity for freedom. Echo easily unlocked the chain and did the same to the device on your neck, returning your nod only once he had finished. He stood and went over to help the other captives, leaving you to figure out your leg situation on your own.

That was fine. You didn’t need people knowing about your weaknesses.

You took a deep breath and rubbed out your sore wrists before pressing your palms flat against the stone underneath you. Your uninjured leg attempted to support you on its own, but as you pushed yourself upwards, you still needed help from the injured one—and it couldn’t provide it.

You tried to disguise your gasp of pain as a simple exhale, but you clearly hadn’t done a good enough job of it. One of the clones was kneeling by your side again, and when you gave them a quick glance, you realized it was Hunter. His helmet was now concealing his face, though its soft tilt was almost as comforting as his gaze had been before.

“I know you’re hurt.” Hunter’s modulated voice was low, meant to stay between the two of you. “At least let us help you get out of here, and then you can go off on your own. Okay?”

You blinked a few times in shock, only nodding once you had recovered. Any of the words you would’ve said were lost deep inside your throat. You hadn’t realized there were people like this in the galaxy, who would offer their help without expecting anything in return.

Maybe you should’ve remained skeptical, but the chaos of the situation and the pain in your leg was making it difficult to think straight—as was Hunter’s proximity.

And his touch, which was now settling on your arm as he slung it over his armored shoulders. He took practically all your weight as he helped you to your feet, and you put on your bravest face as you attempted to straighten out your bad leg. Hunter’s visor was carefully watching your every move.

“You okay?”

You were still so stunned by him and the amount of kind concern he was showing you. Your voice was breathless when you finally found it again. “Yeah.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

Hunter returned your nod before he started to crutch you over to where the rest of his squad was waiting, including the young girl. She was giving you a delightfully curious once-over, even if her furrowed brow was telling a different story. She was quick to speak as you and Hunter approached.

“Are you okay?” The girl frowned. “Did they do something to you?”

You couldn’t help chuckling lightly at her concern. It was easy to tell she had picked up the troopers’ sense of protectiveness. “I’m fine. Just a bad leg.” You willed the strength to stand on your own as you looked over at Hunter and nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

Hunter helped you ease your arm off him. “You don’t have to thank me, and we’re not done yet.” It was difficult to stand on your own, but you did it and managed to keep any evidence of pain hidden away as the sergeant went on. “Echo, Omega, you help these people get to safety. Wrecker, Tech, and I will get Muchi.”

Your eyes widened at his words. “Wait, the rancor is Muchi?”

Echo’s helmet snapped in your direction. “That’s what I said!”

Hunter drew one of the blasters from his holster. “Let’s get going.”

You glanced down at your feet, trying not to focus on your awkward-looking leg. This was likely the last time you were going to see Hunter and the two others who were going with him, and you wouldn’t get to say goodbye.

You were getting way too lonely on the run.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech darted forward, leaving you with Echo, the young girl Omega, and the other former captives. You looked up to meet Echo’s stare through his helmet.

“Are you okay to walk, Birdie?” Echo asked you.

Probably not. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

“Birdie? I love that name!” Omega smiled up at you. “Nice to meet you, Birdie.”

You beamed down at her. “You too, Omega.” You gestured with your head back towards the Zygerrians’ encampment. “You’re very brave, you know.”

She grinned from ear-to-ear. “Thank you. My brothers have been teaching me a lot.”

You would’ve knelt down to her level if you trusted your body enough, but you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head at her. “Bravery can’t be taught.”

“I hate to break up the moment,” Echo interjected, “but we’ve gotta get moving.” He nodded towards the distance. “I see some speederbikes we can get you all loaded on.”

He led the way, as did Omega beside him. You decided to hold up the rear of the pack, knowing that your slower pace with your leg would hold them up. It was manageable for a time, but not for much longer.

You had just made it to the speederbikes when the sound of commotion caught your attention. You tensed and looked where Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech had gone, your chest constricting when you realized they weren’t together anymore.

Instead, Hunter was alone with a Zygerrian. Every instinct within you cried out to help him, if only to truly thank him for his kindness. You relented.

“Echo,” you called, watching as the trooper’s helmet turned towards you. “Save a bike for me.”

“Where are you going?”

You had already started to back away. “I’ll be right back!”

With that, you were on your way over, hopping awkwardly as you tried your best to run with your leg. The adrenaline was masking the pain for now, and that’s all that mattered. The closer you got, however, the more you realized you really weren’t suited to help Hunter in this fight. You had no weapons, thanks to them all being stripped from you by the Zygerrians, and you could barely stand on your own two feet.

But if you’d learned anything about yourself, it’s that you would always find a way, no matter what.

You leaned down on your good leg and swiped up a large rock, giving it a small toss inside your hand before you reached back and slung it forward. It connected with the side of the Zygerrian’s head, making him trip over a few steps as he clutched the now-bleeding wound.

“Birdie?” Hunter’s voice caught your attention, drawing your gaze over to where he was recovering from the Zygerrians’ shock. A golden whip was still wrapped around his wrist, but what struck you—and stuck with you—was the concern in his voice as he called for you.

The protectiveness.

You weren’t given much time to relish in it. The Zygerrian had recovered quickly, and he had also taken note of the worry in Hunter’s voice. He withdrew his whip from Hunter’s wrist and shot it in your direction, and if the pain of its contact with your bad leg wasn’t enough to make you see nothing but black, the shock he sent through it certainly was.

Everything was a blur after your body hit the dirt. You didn’t regain consciousness for an alarming amount of time, but there were faint glimpses you remembered, almost dreamlike in your fragile state. You had been picked up and carried somewhere else before you were set down again. The problem was that you didn’t know who you had ended up with.

When your full awareness returned, your survival instincts made you assume the worst.

You sat up and reached for your empty holster. You cursed, remembering your lost weapons, and tried to find a nearby object to use. The action alerted the nearest silhouette, who spun around in a chair to face you.

“You’re awake.” Hunter’s voice was much calmer than it had been the last time you heard it. You kept your wide eyes focused on him, willing your heaving chest to settle. Hunter noticed, raising his hands in surrender and standing as he gave you a nod. “It’s okay, Birdie. You’re safe.”

You lifted your chin to hide the hard swallow you took and let your gaze scan the area. “Where am I?”

Hunter used one of his raised hands to gesture to the space around him. “Our ship.”

It was certainly a ship made and used for battle. This was the inside of an attack shuttle, with a cockpit at the front and a weapons station at the back—which was curiously half-closed off with a curtain and furnished with blankets. Hunter was still standing by some kind of console with a large vidscreen, which was near the bunk you had been set upon.

“It’s called the Marauder.” You looked down as Omega joined the conversation, her smile just as bright as it had been before. She stood at Hunter’s side, respecting your boundaries the same way Hunter was. “It’s our home.”

Your mouth went dry at the sound of that word. You had certainly strayed far from your own home, if all had gone according to plan. You set your attention back on Hunter and kept your tense shoulders set. “Where are you taking me?”

Hunter’s brow furrowed as he gave his head a small shake. “Nowhere. We’re just on the other side of the planet.” He ran a gloved hand over his hair. “I’m sorry we couldn’t ask you if that was okay first, but we figured you’d be heading to the spaceport, anyway.”

You relaxed at that, exhaling a relieved breath before offering him a small nod. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me here.” With your adrenaline beginning to fade, you were starting to feel the aches and pains of the day full-force, causing you to run your fingertips along your forehead as you exhaled a heavy breath. “What happened? Did you get Muchi?”

“Yeah, Wrecker put her to sleep.” Omega was buzzing with enthusiasm as she beamed towards the ship’s open hatch. “I think she’s starting to wake up, though.”

Hunter sighed at that. His hands were set on his hips as he looked at the hatch over his shoulder. “We have to get her to Cid’s.”

Your lips tightened. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

Hunter’s stare returned to you. He gave you a brief once-over. “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

There it was, the note of genuine concern in both his eyes and his tone that made the tips of your ears burn. You deflected the warmth it brought you with a huff as the memory of your last conscious moment rushed over you. “Yeah, I wasn’t much of a help in that fight, was I?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened at your self-deprecating words. “Actually, your sacrifice gave me the perfect window to take him out.” He nodded at you. “I should be thanking you for your help.”

You blinked a few times in surprise. The warmth of his gaze made yours fall, forcing you to encounter your injured leg. Your brow shot up when you realized it had been secured in a tight wrap.

“Tech helped me with that.” You looked back up at Hunter as he spoke. “We were trying to figure out what was wrong with it. I think he got it, but… well, you’d be better off asking him.” Hunter gestured with his head to the open hatch. “Researching is his hobby.”

You huffed, the corners of your mouth pulling up in a small smile. “I appreciate it.”

Your smile faltered as you watched your fingers run over the wrapping on your leg. This would be another favor you owed someone, another debt that would have to be paid, and you refused to be in that situation again. It didn’t matter how kind these clones seemed. You wouldn’t, and couldn’t, let yourself be in someone’s debt again.

Hunter took a cautious step forward, drawing your gaze up to him again. He set a hand on Omega’s shoulder, wordlessly dismissing her as she headed towards the open hatch. “Is it bothering you?” Hunter gestured to your leg before crossing his arms over his chestplate.

He was even more distractingly handsome up close.

You shook your head. “No.” You straightened your leg, still sitting on the bunk as you did so. “It feels a lot better, actually.”

Hunter nodded, though his brow furrowed at you. He shifted his weight before he spoke again. “What happened to it?”

You didn’t answer him right away. Your gaze darted around the small space in consideration, your fingers mindlessly brushing over the fresh wrap. When you gained the courage to meet his stare again, the golden flecks within his eyes convinced you to speak the truth.

“My ship crashed.” You gave your head an aimless shake. “That’s all I know. The impact knocked me out right away, and when I woke, I was with the Zygerrians.”

Hunter’s gaze softened, though he kept the rest of his body rigid as his jaw ticked. “So, you’re out a ship.”

You let out a mirthless chuckle and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Hunter’s gloved fingers tapped his upper arms rhythmically. After a long pause, he dared to ask his next question. “Did whoever’s after you make you crash?”

Your chest inflated with a breath that you held until your lungs burned. Hunter was an easy person to trust, despite his otherwise gruff persona, but even he couldn’t get this information out of you. Not now.

You finally pushed yourself off the bunk, surprising yourself with how easily you were able to stand on both your legs. Hunter seemed just as shocked, his arms lowered back to his sides as if he’d been preparing to catch you. You gestured with your head to the open hatch. “Don’t you have to go to this Cid person’s place?”

Hunter circled his jaw before nodding. “Yeah. Can’t keep her waiting long.” Still, he made no move for the hatch, instead inhaling a steady breath before adding more. “She has refreshments there, if you want to grab something before moving on.”

You crossed your arms and let your lips curl up in another smile. You traded your caution and fear for amusement and confidence as you raised your brow at him. “Is that an invitation, Sergeant?”

Hunter’s shoulders straightened as his stare met yours again. You enjoyed the faint flush that painted his cheeks, even though he tried to deflect it with a quiet chuckle. “Only if you want Tech to talk to you non-stop about your injury, and Omega to ask you a thousand questions about your life story.”

You looked towards the hatch, seeing the rest of Hunter’s crew standing outside with Muchi. Omega was laughing as Wrecker set her upon the rancor’s back, and the creature was beaming at the group that had somehow made her feel safe enough to stay calm, despite her wild nature. Maybe if the rancor could let herself feel safe with them, then you could, too.

“What the hell.” You let your arms fall back to your sides as you stepped towards the hatch. “I’m sure he won’t catch up to me in a standard hour.” You brushed past Hunter and smiled to yourself. “And even if he could, I’m too hungry to care.”

Hunter huffed at that, and you could hear him following you. You stopped, however, when you looked down at the stairs that separated you from the ship and the ground. Your leg was stronger, but this would prove to be a challenge for it, and you weren’t keen on falling down hard enough to knock yourself out for a third time today.

Then came the gentle touch on your elbow. “Go ahead, Birdie.” Hunter's low voice was calming from behind you. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, you were overwhelmed by a rush of unprecedented warmth from head-to-toe, accompanied by an explosion of sparkling glimmers within your stomach. You took a deep breath to combat the foreign feeling and nodded to acknowledge Hunter’s reassurance before stepping down. It was easier than you thought it would be, but Hunter’s gentle grasp on your elbow still worked wonders in helping to keep you steady.

“Birdie!” Omega waved from Muchi’s back once your boots hit the hangar’s floor. “Are you coming with us?”

You laughed at her. “Only if I get a meal out of it.”

The rest of the group had already turned to you, and you found yourself stiffening out of instinct. Tech’s gaze was fixed pointedly on your leg as he pushed his goggles further up his nose, while Wrecker was laughing at your comment about food. Echo was the only other cautious one, though you couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him for that. He raised an eyebrow at you before shifting his gaze to Hunter behind you.

“It is good to see you have made a recovery,” Tech said, breaking the brief moment of tense silence. “Though your vitals were stable, I was uncertain you had enough strength to rouse so quickly.”

You set your jaw and hung your hands on your hips. “I have plenty of strength.”

Tech tilted his head. “Clearly.” He pointed at your leg. “Though we have yet to test the strength of your leg, which seems to be in poor shape. I can provide you with a more detailed briefing about it once we arrive at Cid’s.”

You just nodded, too stunned by his straightforwardness to say anything. The weight of Hunter’s stare drew your gaze over to him, and you caught his amused smile as he gestured to Tech with his head. “Told you.” He then looked at his squad and raised his voice loud enough for him to be heard by everyone. “Let’s get going.”

The squad obeyed, and you stayed close to Hunter as the group headed out of the hangar. It was strange to find yourself among them, a group of strangers who were becoming more and more familiar, but you were comfortable in their presence. Even the thought of leaving them in a standard hour’s time or so was more saddening than you thought it would be.

But a brand-new start was awaiting you, and if there was one thing you learned about this galaxy, it was to always expect the unexpected.

series masterlist ⟹ next

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

broken wings tag list: @dindadjarin

[ejoym]

Devlin's History. This is Part II of an ask. Devlin's backstory is like a tour through horror film history with influences from Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist, Halloween, and Hereditary. I generally try to work within the BG3 framework for Dark Urge but I do take some narrative liberties. 

Content warning for mentions but no explicit descriptions of some dark shit (horror, violence, sex, pregnancy, and abusive cults.)

Spoilers abound for the Dark Urge below.

Her adoptive parents were wealthy high elves who were thrilled to learn that a moon elf baby was abandoned at a local orphanage. They were new money and trying desperately to claw their way up the social ladder in the upper city. Devlin was cared for well enough but there was always something a little off about her. 

She loved the circus. She dreamed of being a clown when she grew up and insisted on dressing like one everyday. This alone wouldn’t have been cause for concern but she started acting out in other notable ways…like vomiting black bile, speaking infernal tongues, floating into corners of rooms, and turning her head 180 degrees - you know, typical puberty shit for any Dark Urge, but A LOT more than her adoptive parents signed up for. 

These were, of course, early manifestations of the urges.

Her parents were mortified. They tried to bring in a cleric to purify her. Daddy Bhaal was having none of it though. He took possession of Devlin to hard counter the naive cleric. Devlin, as controlled by Bhaal, incinerated the cleric as well as her foster parents. When she regained control over her body, she was horrified and fled. For a while she survived on the streets as a feral little sewer gremlin in a ratty clown costume. 

Sceleritas Fel eventually found her and revealed her true origin as a Bhaalspawn. He took her back to the temple where she began training as a Cleric of Bhaal. Her father granted her direct power over life and death, which, you know, gave her just the teeniest-tiniest god complex. The downside was that Bhaal used his influence to exert total control over her life. 

She knew that shit was bad at the temple. She ended up having A LOT of sex as her chosen form of escape. She also did this as a way to dull the more murderous urges. Which kind of worked but like most forms of dysfunctional escapism, it was short-lived and came with its own pitfalls.

One of her most important roles as a Cleric of Bhaal was assisting in the childbirth of Bhaalspawn (someone has to do it right?) She trained by delivering for members of the cult but the birth of a true Bhaalspawn was a significant event to Bhaal. It only happened twice during her time in the temple. 

Devlin was in fact the one who delivered Orin from Helena. I have it that Devlin is about double Orin’s age and she served as an older sister role in Orin’s life. 

BUT before Orin there was also another. Remember those pesky little pitfalls I mentioned? Pregnancy was one of them.

It made sense to me that with all of Devlin's chaotic horny energy that she got pregnant, full on birthing another Bhaalspawn. This happened pretty early though. It wasn't a part of Bhaal’s plan but he ended up using it to his advantage. She became his pliable puppet during her pregnancy. The urges were the strongest they had ever been because he could also exert control over the spawn inside.

Birth was a bloody fucking nightmare and she did it alone. She tried to flee with the baby but Bhaal personally showed up in a reaper avatar form to recover her and the spawn. He showed Devlin no mercy in his punishment.

This becomes a huge turning point for her. She grew more compliant to Bhaal’s will as a survival mechanism. She internalized a lot of shame and rage - leading her urges to become more violent.

She never learned what happened to the child. As of the events of the game, she has lost all memory of that time. That said, I imagine her life post-tadpole will be about slowly recovering some details from her past, leading to some interesting revelations.

Thanks again for the ask! Her back story is grim but I suppose it's par for the course of a Dark Urge. 😅

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss and Helen J. Shen Talk Finding Their ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ on Broadway: ‘It’s a Really Charming, Kind Little World’

It’s best to let Darren Criss describe the simply complex story of Maybe Happy Ending, the new musical he co-stars in with Broadway newcomer Helen J. Shen. “There’s what the story is and then there’s what the show is about,” the Emmy and Golden Globe-winning singer/actor/songwriter tells Billboard in an interview you can watch above.

“Those aren’t necessarily the same things,” he notes about the musical love story from Will Aronson and Hue Park, in which the former Glee star and Shen appear as obsolete Helperbot robots who meet cute and fall in love. “Thematically, it’s about two elderly people in hospice who decide to break out of the situation to go connect with their family,” says Criss about what sounds like a potentially dark theme.

And while that “grim, depressing construct for a show” doesn’t sound like the stuff of uplifting Broadway magic, Criss promises that the musical’s creators have somehow morphed that idea about the chilly march of time and hard lessons about love and life into a “really charming, kind little world” filled with Helper robots who are living embodiments of our iPhones and other digital assistants.

Because many of us imbue our inanimate digital devices with human-like qualities, sometimes holding on to them well past their best-by use date, Criss says the musical asks what happens when those objects become more like us?

Shen makes her Broadway debut in the play alongside theater/TV/movie veteran Criss, 37, after turning heads last year in the ensemble of the Off Broadway musical Teeth. She says one of the most exciting parts of performing in the show is the chance to take the lead in a completely new piece of theater not based on any existing intellectual property or a reboot/revival, but something that theatergoers have never seen before.

“It’s super overwhelming. The idea of it has been something that I’ve dreamed about my whole life,” says Shen, 24 of originating a character on Broadway. “And to have it come to fruition with this particular story, with this particular group of people I just feel… abundance. I feel so lucky and grateful.”

Both say they feel really blessed to be part of the show, with Criss noting that he has typically starred in “iconic” roles in his previous Broadway runs, including as Harry Potter in A Very Potter Musical, J. Pierrpont Finch in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors and Hedwig in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, among others. “These are things people know and love,” he says of those classics.

“[Which] were great, with or without me. I now go in there trying to do my own thing and make it my own and there’s the excitement of the challenge, but also the pressure of living up to a certain thing and wanting to do your own thing,” he adds about trying to find something of yourself in a well-known role people may have seen many other times with other performers. “Whereas this, it’s an open canvas, not only for us, but for the audience. They don’t have any preconceived notions. That’s the best thing about this.”

Because it is a new experience, audiences don’t know what to expect, which both actors say makes attendees really listen and sit up in their seats to take in all the nuance of the show that also heralds the Broadway debuts for creators Aronson and Park; it began its life on stage in Seoul, South Korea in 2016 and was later produced in Japan and China as well.

Maybe Happy Ending, directed by Michael Arden (Parade), is open now at the Belasco Theatre on Broadway.

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Talks Career Interests And His ‘A Different Man’ Film

By Jeff Conway

Sure, you likely know him for his many Marvel film appearances as Bucky Barnes, but actor Sebastian Stan has often taken “the road less traveled” when it comes to his career, having built quite the unique repertoire of memorable performances in far less conventional films.

That observation has arguably never been more visible than with his involvement in the new A24 film, A Different Man. Written & directed by Aaron Schimberg and co-starring Adam Pearson and Renate Reinsve, it tells the story of Edward (Stan), an aspiring actor who undergoes a breakthrough medical procedure to transform his facial appearance, but soon regrets his decision when he becomes obsessed with reclaiming what he has lost.

I sat down with Stan, Pearson and Schimberg to uncover the origin and the creative thought process that went into this new project, which is now playing in select theaters in New York and Los Angeles - nationwide come October 4. For filmmaker Schimberg, this purposefully uncomfortable narrative and the overall project hits rather close to home.

Schimberg said, “I mean, for me, it’s sort of a personal story. I have cleft palate and it’s just sort of me thinking about how it’s affected me in my life and others’ perception of me and my perception about myself. My previous film [Chained for Life] also dealt with the subject in some ways, so that’s sort of what I am always thinking about when I am starting to write a film. I was also thinking about Adam because I had worked with him previously and he played a shy character in Chained for Life, my last film, and he’s not shy at all - and yet, people I think sort of thought that he was playing himself in my movie because they sort of assumed that he must be shy. So, I was inspired to write something that was closer to who he is - taken to a comical extreme, maybe, and I wanted him to show off his range, but I also just wanted to work with him again, so these were some of the starting points.”

Pearson, a British actor with neurofibromatosis, which is a rare genetic disorder that typically causes benign tumors of the nerves and growths in other parts of the body, went on to share what it was about A Different Man and his Oswald character that most intrigued him to want to make this his next film.

“Well, I enjoyed working with Aaron the first time, so when he said, ‘Would you consider working with me again?’ Straight away, I was like, Ding Ding! Round two - let’s rock and roll. Then the script - all the words have weight. There’s very little wasted motion in the script. The end result of the film is quite challenging and holds up a mirror to an audience. I’ve never been a fan of hand-holding or sugar-coating. I think audiences can be a lot smarter than we often give them credit for. A good film will change what you think for a couple of days, but a great film will change how you think for the rest of your life. We’re certainly trying, at least, to be in the great film business.”

With Stan not only acting in A Different Man but also an executive producer, I wondered how he has perhaps noticed his interests and priorities towards the stories that matter most to him as a professional and human being evolving as time goes on.

Stan said, “Well, you get a little older and the questions get a little scarier. A few years ago, I just decided to kind of just be a little bit more aggressive about finding specific work that was interesting and different and kind of challenging for me than what I was getting to do. Eventually, you find yourself in conversations that are in the development of certain things and that might lead to a producing kind of aspect. I think in this [A Different Man] situation, I was involved before A24 came on, which never really happens for me. Not only because of obviously how I felt about the story and so on, I felt really brought in by Aaron and [producer] Vanessa [McDonnell] into their journey with this film and like what they were wanting to do. So, I felt a much bigger attachment than I usually do as an actor in a way.”

When it came time to film A Different Man, Stan recalls the production not having much time, which he actually found to be helpful within his producer role “because when you’re involved in some capacity beyond acting, sometimes you can kind of go, Hey, let’s continue shooting or something. You can help add more to the making of it in some capacity and that was big for us, given our time - that we didn’t have a lot of time.”

In fact, during one particular scene in the film, Stan remembers while everybody else was wrapping up the production trucks for the night, he decided to head out on the streets of New York City with his A Different Man director of photography Wyatt Garfield and Schimberg to grab additional footage. “I just kind of took one of his other little cameras and then we started going up and down Columbus Avenue. It was Friday night and we just got all these shots. Maybe you don’t always get to do that, so that was helpful.”

As I began to conclude my conversation with these three gentlemen, I wondered what Pearson and Stan would say to their A Different Man characters, Oswald and Edward, after seeing their stories play out on-screen and understanding their wants out of life.

Pearson said, “I’d be like to Oswald, Maybe turn it down a little bit. Be nicer to [Stan’s character Edward] because he might not say it, but he loves you and he needs you right now.”

As for the message Stan would tell Edward, he said, “Listen to me! I’m here - I’m telling you. I don’t know how I feel about this. Just hear me out.”

He then added: “It’s very interesting because we all have these moments in life, big or small, where you make a decision or you even say something because you’re with other people or you’re supposed to say something the right way, but you know your reaction in the moment or the decision you’re making is not what your gut is like really telling you. Then, you feel kind of like you’ve abandoned yourself, but then you just quickly deny that - that can kind of like spiral down. We’ve all kind of not owned certain things in the moment and that’s sort of what happens. He kind of drowns out that voice.”

[ohtobeleah]

Best Worst Christmas // Jake Seresin

Summary: After some life altering news. You confide in Hangman which leads you to ticking off something incredibly important on your bucket list.

Warnings: Terminal illness. Mentions of death. Dark humour. Jake Seresin x Reader. Angst & fluff—Jake being just the best version of himself.

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: TRUST ME TO DO THIS. Because we can’t have anything nice here. Even at Christmas time. Got this idea from Bianca’s story line from Shameless. Not your typical happy go lucky Christmas fic.

Slow motion. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. From the way Bob brought the lip of his glass of lemonade up to his mouth to hide his infectious smile to the way Bradley twirled Phoenix under his arm and pulled her into his side. Dancing to whatever song had been blaring from the jukebox. 

Slow. Slow and silent. You couldn't hear a single thing beside the high pitched ringing in your ears that sounded like just the right pitch to break the glass of the windows out front. No laughter, no music, no mundane chatter from other patrons littering the Hard Deck on this oh so average Friday afternoon. 

Except there was nothing average about being told just forty five minutes ago that you were dying. Merry Fucking Chrismas. 

“I'm sorry, Payback.” You shook your head softly as you blinked a few times, the ringing in your ears clearing as everything seemed to come back into real time, sound and all. “What did you say?” 

“I said you don't look so good, Jake mentioned you left early for a doctor appointment off base, you good?” 

“What is Hangman doing with my name in his mouth?” You spat before you took what was left of your beer into your mouth, skulling the burnt amber liquid like there was no tomorrow. For you there really wasn't all that much time left. Paying attention to how your liver processed alcoholic beverages had become an afterthought. “But yeah, I uh– I did.” 

“Something any of us should be worried about?” Payback had always been a kind and gentle soul. You envied his passion for all things Christmas. His ugly Christmas sweater told you everything that you needed to know, his was down bad for the holiday season. “Nut?” 

“Everything’s just peachy keen Fitch, you don't gotta worry about me.” You tried your best to hide the ever mounting pressure you felt in your chest through a pained smile and soft gaze. “But–” You held your empty glass up as you twirled around on the barstool you'd been sitting on. “I'm tapped so I'm gonna grab another beer and then you and I are gonna have a game of pool once shit for brains is finished showboating.” Reuben followed where your eyeline had evidently landed and low and behold there stood none other than Jake Seresin, claiming his title as undefeated pool champion with a grin so prominent on his face it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Be right back.” 

You slid off the stool and fixed the ‘Christmas’ dress that had been sticking to the back of your thighs. It wasn't anything special, just a red mid length dress that fit the Christmas attire that had been mandated but Reuben Fitch himself. Head and only member of the party planning committee. It wasn't anything special, but at least the dress was red, right? 

You'd been excited for the staff Christmas party for months up until the moment your doctor had sat you down and handed you a one way ticket to the afterlife. You thought maybe the reason you'd been feeling so unwell over the last few weeks had been an imbalance in your birth control or a shift in seasons or just something, anything other than what your final prognosis had ended up being. 

“What can I get you Nut?” Penny asked when she saw you leaning against the bar, card in hand, swinging on the barstool. “The usual?” 

“Uh can I get a double Jamison please Pen, on the rocks if you could.” Penny got to work fixing up your order as Jake slipped in beside you. Not turning his head in your direction as he fished his wallet out from the back of his jeans as he sat. The stupid matching Chrismas shirt he wore with Bradley looked ridiculous on him. Only Bradley Bradshaw could pull off a Christmas themed Hawaiian shirt. It wasn't Hangman's usual attire, it looked idiodic on him in the best way possible. 

“Another beer if you can Penny, extra tenner on the bar for you too.” Jake was, if anything, a charmer at heart. But despite his ability to smooth talk his way out of any situation and into anyone that had a hole he could put it in, you couldn't stand him. “You seem even more shrewd than usual this afternoon there Nut, not feeling the Christmas cheer?” and he couldn't stand you either. Or so you both led on. 

“Bit me.” Penny slid you the class, brown bourbon had never tasted so good before as you downed the double shot you ordered before slamming the glass back down. It wasn't the best move you could have made because the second you swallowed? Your stomach churned. “I gotta go.” You were quick for a woman who could barely walk in heels, racing towards the nearest exit without so much as causing a scene. Leaving Jake in your dust as he almost gave himself whiplash trying to crain his head fast enough to keep up.

“Wait, hold on the parties just getting started?” Jake took the beer bottle from Penny, being gentleman enough to say a quick thankyou her way before making a dash after you towards the front door. “Nwet hold on!” Your call sign had you as the Goddess of the sky. The name originating from Egyptian Mythology, but for some reason or another that had been shortened even further. Everyone just called you Nut for short. 

“Not now Hangman, I’m serious I’m not fee–” You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence before you were throwing up the contents of your stomach in the nearest pot plant on the front deck. Down on your knees as your hands gripped at the ceramic. Coughing and splattering as Jake put his beer down on the railing and balled your hair into his first to keep it from falling into the backsplash. 

“Alright, I'm cutting you off killer, how much have you had to drink?” Jake crouched down beside you as you sat back on your heels, whipping your mouth on your forearm. “You good?” 

“Get me another drink and I'll be even better.” You had heard loud and clear what Jake had said but just chose to ignore it. You didn't have much choice anymore. Jake just looked at you like you were on another planet. His eyes wide as his mouth fell slightly open in shock. There weren't many people who could render Jake Seresin speechless–but you always seemed to manage. 

It was the same look he gave you whenever you'd get into a heated argument over training sessions or whenever you’d go head to head in another one of your PTI’s latest workouts. The same look he gave you when you said you were fine when you had to miss the last few days of flight training, the same look he gave you when he found you making your doctor's appointment in the rec room between his runs. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky just for him and once he’d finished admiring them you'd knock them out of the sky just to watch them shatter before him. Unpredictable and oh so beautiful. 

“Uh, no–I'm not gonna get you another drink when you're throwing up in Pennys plants.” 

“It's not the alcoholic, Jake.” You sighed out in response as you pressed your palm to your forehead. 

“It most definitely is I can smell it on yo–” You didn't know why, out of all the people you could have told first. Your Parents, Your Commanding Officers, any of your colleagues that seemed more and more like family every day, you chose Jake fucking Seresin to drop the biggest life ending bomb on. The worst Christmas Present ever. Deep deep down you knew exactly why. But there was no time left to figure it out now. 

“Jake it's not the Alcohol.” You cut him off, shutting your eyes as tight as you could because you couldn't look at him when you told him. “It's cancer.” 

“What?” When you opened your eyes again Jake's expression had softened to something you’d never seen before. “What do you mean it's cancer?” This couldn't really be happening could it? You wouldn't be cruel enough to play such a sick joke on him. But with the way you were looking at him right now? Jake felt his heart collapse into his stomach. The love of his life had cancer? “What do you mean by cancer Y/n?” Jake repeated as he brushed your hair away from your shoulder. “You aren’t being serious right now are you?” You didn’t respond right away because you were stunned at the saddened and stunned look Hangman had been stricken by.

“What I mean by cancer is that I have a shelf life.” You tried to make the moment a little more lighthearted. “A cosmic fuck you when you were just getting started huh.” It was the hardest thing you'd ever done, to sit in front of the man you loved to hate and hated to love and tell him you were dying. You hadn’t even had a chance to see what you could have been. You'd both been too caught up playing the long con that you'd wasted whatever time you had. 

“What's the uh–?” Jake didn't know how to ask as he stood with you and moved over to the nearest table that was clear and free. “What's the prognosis?” 

“Stage three Pancreatic–well basically stage four but—” Silence fell as Jake sat beside you completely stunned. His mind was running a million miles an hour, thinking of all the times you’d smiled at him. Beamed his way whenever he taunted you or teased you for something stupid and meaningless. You took everything like a champ because you could dish it out in return. He’d learnt to expect an elbow to the ribs whenever you had this one particular look in your eye. 

“And what's the going rate for stage three?” Jake wanted to hear you say at least something promising, but that wasn’t the case at all.

“Two Percent, Doc said even that was being generous.” His heart stopped for a moment. This wasn’t happening, not to you. Not to the one woman he had ever loved.

“Okay but what about chemo? What about other treatments that could surely raise that number up right?” 

“Oh, I ah–I don't wanna do any treatment.” That knocked the wind right out of Jake, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Like the entire world had just been knocked out from under his feet. “I saw what it did to my friend's mother Cathy, she spent whatever time she had left being pumped full of poison, because of it she became so weak she couldn't enjoy the things she could have been while she still had time.” 

“You can't not try Y/n.” Jake had moved as close to you as he possibly could. So much so it was easy enough for you to accept your own mortality with your head resting gently on his shoulder. “It's probably really selfish of me to say this but I'm not ready to just let you go.” 

“Please, spare me the hallmark card sympathies Seresin.” Scoffing, you took the beer bottle Jake had been sipping infrequently on. Taking a gulp of the yeasty beverage. “I don't need you treating me any differently now that you know I'm practically worm food.” It was the way Jake looked at you like he couldn't believe what you had just said. Did you expect him not to laugh or something? Strifally back a laugh so pure Jake waited for you to crack first, the symphony of highs and lows that sounded like the most prim and proper orchestra surrounded him as you laughed with him. 

“When did you find out? You seem to be dealing with the inevitability of it all well.” 

“About fifty minutes before I told you.” The smile had been whipped clean from Jake's face once again. The laughter that had just filled the atmosphere around you both now replaced with silence so heavy you were sure you had just been buried alive. “I haven't told anyone, and I wasn't planning to either.” 

Although you and Jake pretended most days to loathe each other's existence, there was no real animosity there. It was simply a childish act. Your mother had told you at an early age that boys who pulled your pony tail on the playground at school must have liked you. So you learnt play rough too, showing your affection by taunting and teasing between lingering eyes and daydreams of what it would be like to be with Jake as more than just whatever the fuck you were. 

“Why did you tell me? I mean I thought I would have been the last person on earth you would have spilled your darkest secrets to.” Jake felt nothing but content when you let your head fall back to his shoulder. He decided this time though to wrap a comforting arm around you—drawing you further into his side. 

“Believe it or not you were the first person who came to mind when I was told.” You'd thought about what Jake would say. If he’d even say anything at all when he found out, if he’d change the way he treated you or if there would be a small part of him that would be relieved that you wouldn't be around to annoy him anymore or challenge him whenever he thought he was better than you. “I thought maybe you’d be a good person to tell because you wouldnt look at me like I was weak.” 

“If there’s one thing you are, it's not weak.” Jake shook his head as he finished the remains of his beer. Standing as he offered you a hand. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” 

“What? Where are we going?” You didn’t protest all that much—knowing what Jake had in mind was probably better than wallowing in self pity. You took his hand gracefully as he guided you to stand, meeting his gaze yet again. 

“We’re gonna go back to your place—“ 

“Oh, as if you would.” You cracked a smile as Jake looked at you a little confused. “I’m dying Hangman, don’t get that confused with desperate.” It wasn’t that you wouldn’t, you would in a heartbeat—but the feeling you got from your back and forth taunting just made the prize all the more worth it. Jake just stood in front of you, eyes trailing from your gaze to your lips then back to

Your eyes. Committing every last detail of your face to his long term memory. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, but we’re going back to yours.” 

“I told Payback I’d play a game of pool with him.” You explained as you tried to push past Jake, all he did was grip your wrist, stopping you from getting any further away from him. “Jesus Christ Jake what has gotten into you?” You stood there questioning his sudden need to be overbearing. 

“You just told me you have terminal cancer and you’re asking me what’s gotten into me! Jesus Y/n.” Jake let go of your wrist as he ran his hands through his hair, extinguishing a frustrated sigh as he looked anywhere but directly at you when he let his guard down. Nothing good ever came with Jake Seresin let his guard down, so he didn’t do it all that often. “I was just told the woman I’ve been obsessed with for the last year is dying and there’s literally not a single thing that I can do to stop it!” You let your walls down almost instantly at the confirmation, softening your shoulders and letting yourself just enjoy the satisfaction of the moment you thought would never come. Jake knew you were thinking—he could practically see the cogs turning in your head as you stood before him smirking a bashful smile. Suddenly doe eyed and willing to step a little closer. “What?” Jake scoffed as his lips curled into a smile that matched yours. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“So you’re obsessed with me huh?” 

“That’s your take on this whole situation?” 

“Oh yeah—“ Wrapping your arms around the back of Jake's neck you drew him all the more closer as his hands instinctively went to your hips. “Because I didn’t have to admit that I’m obsessed with you first.” You really didn’t give him a second to respond with some witty remark on how he was just saying it because he felt sorry for you—instead you let your lips press against Jakes softly. Testing the waters before diving into the deep end. Pulling back as you slowly opened your eyes. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to love me, especially knowing what you know—“ It was Jake's turn to cut you off before you could try and talk him out of spending whatever time you had left right by your side. His lips connected with yours as his hands came up to cup your cheeks as your tongue danced with his. Savoring every second because you’d always wondered what type of kisser Jake Seresin was. The answer? He knew what he was doing. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t.” Pulling away momentarily Jake tan the pads of his thumbs across your flushed cheeks. “How long?” Jake didn’t really want to know the answer but he knew deep down it wouldn’t be long. 

“Anywhere between six months to a year.” It broke your heart the way Jake dropped his chin slightly at the realisation. “Depends on my lifestyle.” 

“Then I’m gonna be by your side for the next six to twelve months.” Jake promised as he held his hand up to wrap his pinky with yours. “Till the end of the line.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

Not a single person had seen you or Jake leave the Hard Deck unannounced. Payback had texted you a few times before you decided enough was enough and sent him a quick message saying you were with Jake before placing your phone on do not disturb. 

“Okay so you’re sure this one has the built in lighting?” Jake asked just one more time as you both stood back and looked at the piles of broken down Christmas tree that you’d sectioned into piles on your living room floor. 

“For the millionth time, yes—“ You’d leant Jake a pair of your ex’s old sweatpants that you’d forgotten you had until he was long gone. They fit snug, but well. In true Hangman style though? He was parading around your house, shirtless. Sweats hanging low leaving very little to the imagination. 

“Okay well, let’s start by fanning these prongs out before we attach anything to the trunk.” You’d changed into your Christmas pajamas—a cartoon version of the grinch saying it’s about to get naughty right across your chest. Jake had thought your house would be full of Christmas decorations by now—always the life of every holiday season. But when he stepped through the threshold and saw you hadn’t been bothered he knew that had to change. 

Especially if there was a possibility this could be your last Christmas. 

“You got your tree up yet?” You asked as soft melodies of Christmas songs played from your speaker, filling the living room as you and Jake sat on the ground amongst a sea of fake Christmas tree. Jake nodded softly as he worked to fluff out the prongs. 

“Yep, had it delivered the first of November—got a real one this year.” 

“Yeah you would be the type of person to have a real tree wouldn’t you.” It’s not that you had anything against it, it’s just that a real tree always seemed like so much work. “But if I get the chance to see next Christmas, I’ll get a real one.” 

“We can go Christmas tree shopping, new ornaments and all.” Jake offered as his pile grew a little faster then yours. “How come you hadn’t put your tree up yet?” He asked, perplexed. “You’re always drowning on about how the holidays are your favourite time of year.” You didn’t answer right away, you were going to make up some lame excuse but then you remembered Jake Seresin was the o my other person besides you general practitioner that knew you were dying. You could tell him. 

“I just haven’t really had the energy to.” 

“The cancers the reason you haven’t been flying as much isn’t it?” 

“Yep.” You popped your lips at the P. “Probably won’t be too long now before I’m stuck behind some desk in the admin building doing some mundane Johnny pencil pusher projects.” Sighing, you reached for another set of prongs. “Even a swivel chair will eventually make me gag—I don't know how much longer I’ll be able to withstand G’s and barrel roll.” 

“Well damn Nut, who’s gonna keep the top of my head from popping off?” Jake teased as he came to sit beside you, leaning back on the couch as he legs fell either side of you. Your back to his chest as he took the prongs you were working on from your hands and finished it himself. “You’ve always kept my ego from inflating.” 

“God help the crew when I’m dead and gone.” You chuckled softly as you left your sink into Jake's embrace. “You’ll just have to remember who’s the goddess of the sky, I’ll still be around to kick your ass.” 

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna manage that killer?” 

“I’ll wiggle your ear whenever you do something stupid.” You grinned, reaching up and around to wiggle Jake's earlobe. “Like that, whoever you get a little too hot headed, you’ll feel me.” 

“Deal.” Jake smiled softly as he kissed your shoulder from behind. “Now, while I’ll sit here fanning these things out, why don’t you make a list of all the things you wanna do between the next six to twelve months?” 

“Like a bucket list?” You asked softly as you lulled your head back to catch the glint in Jake's eyes. 

“Exactly, whatever you wanna do, I’ll help you do it.” You really couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Settling back against Jake you started listing off things in your notes app. 

“I wanna get a tattoo, something stupid but meaningful—maybe even just something funny.” You’d end up getting a matching tattoo with Jake a few weeks later. Both in the same spot, on your tricep just above your elbow. Two hands pinky promising—till the end of the line written in calligraphy.

“Solid plan, I approve, what else Nut?” Jake reached for another pile to fluff up, almost having made his way through all the pieces. 

“I wanna skinny dip at the beach, at night, or even when the suns just starting to set.” Jake takes you. You both strip down and race towards the waters edge. You wrestle and fight until you're hooking your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. Kissing him like you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. His hands hold you up by your ass—and you squeal when a rogue wave knocks you both down. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

“Shameless Y/l/n, but deal—what’s next.” You add about six different things onto your list, telling Jake every single one as you both stand to place all the pieces of your tree together. Deciding that you were both committing to the entire project together. Making a trip into your garage for the ornaments. 

“Maybe I should have a threesome?” You held the ladder at the bottom of your manhole Jake had climbed up into to fetch the seasonal box. “Yeah, never had one of those before but maybe it’s worth checking out.” 

“Two guys or one guy and one girl?” Jake handed you the box before he jumped down with a soft thud. “Or you and two girls?” You just raised a brow in response. “Hey—“ Jake was quick to hold his hands up in surrender. “I dunno what your sexual preferences are! I’m just being inclusive.” He sent you his signature shit eating grin. “But uh, pencil me down for whatever you decide.” 

“You wouldn’t be included in the girl on girl fantasy.” You gained back as Jake took the box back from you, walking side by side down the hall back to your living room. 

“But you’re saying there’s a chance I’d be included in the other two choices.” You never do end up having a threesome, it never actually makes the list. “Can’t say I haven’t dreamed of that a few times.” 

“Really? Funny that, I had a dream that I dropped you down a well just the other night.” You didn’t even look Jake's way as you fished out a few ornaments and started hanging them on the tree. Jake followed curiously. “And get here you are dreaming of having sex with me?” 

“I definitely like my dream a lot better—“ You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you shook your head, turning on your heels to fetch more ornaments. 

“I’m not having sex with you Hungman.” Jake raised his eyebrows in response to what you’d called him over your shoulder. “Isn't that what they all call you?” 

“Seems a little rude, and also short sighted.” He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck as you tried to pull away. Secretly enjoying the affection you could have been experiencing for a whole year before now. “Add it to your list.” 

“I’ll reluctantly add it to my list.” It didn’t take you and Jake all that much time to finish decorating your Christmas tree. Stepping back to admire your work, you turned on the lights and dimmed down your overheads. Jake held his fist out for your to fist bump before he drew you into his side. You had told Jake you’d add to fuck him onto you bucket list—he even watch your write something down into your notes. But it wasn’t that. No—it was something much better. 

“Best worst Christmas ever, don’t you think Nut?”

“Best worst Christmas ever Hangman.” Turning into Jake you kissed him once again, only for a fleeting moment. “Thankyou for this, just being here—I felt like I was drowning at the bar.”

“Like I said, till the end of the line.” Kissing the top of your head, you asked Jake to say the night, it was the first time Jake Seresin had slept in the same bed as a woman and he didn’t fuck her. All he did was hold you till you fell sleep—and that’s when for only a few brief moments he let himself cry. He loved you, truly. 

***~***~***~***~***~***

Eighteen Months Later //

“Are you thick or are you fucking stupid Rooster!?” Jake barked as he walked down the tarmac towards his wingman. “I said break right and follow back and under—talley two at five o’clock low means exactly that!” Jake was seeing red. “Do you wanna get yourself killed in a real fight?” 

“Ease up, we’re alive and we still have the fastest time on the leaderboard—Coyote, Payback and Fanboy are nowhere near us.”

“That’s not the point, Bradshaw! You just didn’t fucking think!” Jake was seething, his face was red and if Bradley looked close enough? He swore he could see steam coming out of Jake's ears. “Something’s gotta be in there—it can’t just be air in that thick—“ Before Jake could finish, he felt a tugging sensation on his left earlobe. Shutting up instantly as he reached up to tug at the phantom sensation. 

“Nut got your ear?” Bradley asked as he tapped Hangman on the shoulder, Bradley had been the one Jake confided in when you finally passed on. He didn’t believe in the afterlife until he couldn’t let you go. “Mum used to say dad would whistle around the house, she’d smell his cologne too.” Bradley caught the sun catching on Jake's wedding band. You’d both decided fuck it one night and high tailed it to a Vagas to get hitched. “She’s probably trying to tell you to stop yelling at me!” 

Christmas had long passed and Jake still had his dead tree up. Something about taking it down meant saying goodbye and he wasn’t ready to do that. You’d only just managed to make it to new years before deciding you just couldn’t do it anymore. But you were wrapped to have two best worst Christmas’s under your belt. 

Jake held you close till you took your last breath, you weren’t in some hospital somewhere hooked up to all sorts of machines. No. You were down by the ocean, in Jake's arms. Talking about how you were so thankful to have completed everything on your lift. The final one being the most important. 

“Here—“ Jake remembers you saying softly as you handed him a letter. “I wrote them down so you’ll never forget everything you did for me.” 

Jake scanned the page of about fifteen different things you had done together, the last one though he never knew you wrote. He couldn’t help himself as he held you a little tighter, a little closer. He framed the letter and placed it on his bedside table—The tick next to number fifteen his favourite thing of all. 

Number 15: Know what it’s like to fall in love on the worst, best Christmas ever.