#but i think allies need to hear her more now than ever...

[weepycat]

the full email is posted here but this paragraph from rachel corrie's last email to her mother in 2003 before she was killed by an israeli bulldozer is absolutely fucking harrowing over 20 years later.

I look forward to seeing more and more people willing to resist the direction the world is moving in: a direction where our personal experiences are irrelevant, that we are defective, that our communities are not important, that we are powerless, that the future is determined, and that the highest level of humanity is expressed through what we choose to buy at the mall.

[puckinghischier]

alli there is this idea in my head and since I love how you write Nico I wish you could write this

there is a Gracie Abrams song called In Between and I’ve been thinking about a headcanon or something based on that song so it’s like gracie is describing yours and Nico relationship

it’s such a cute song describing two people falling in love and to me it screams falling in love with Nico

really hope you could do something with this request ❤️

this is such a cute request and i hope this is at least semi close to what you were thinking of 🫶🏼

(i kinda manipulated the lyrics and left some out of certain sections just so it would make more sense/flow better)

I just can’t come between em’, they got their own thing; I wish he’d stop pretendin’, he won’t let his phone ring for more than a couple seconds oh I think maybe two

Nico drags behind his teammates as they come off of the ice, hearing the various grunts and complaints about needing an ice bath and a shower.

He smirks to himself as he makes his way to his locker, taking his time, watching the hoard of sweaty hockey players quickly trickle out of the room. Taking a peek behind his shoulder, making sure he’s mostly alone in the large room, he pulls his phone out of his bag, making sure he has no missed calls or messages.

“Cap! Thought you said no phones in the locker room this season? Or does that only apply to us lowly alternates and unlettered players?” Jack pokes fun at his captain, slapping a hand on Nico’s back, startling him.

Sliding his phone out of sight, he turns to greet Jack. “Just checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything important,” Nico gives a nervous smile.

Jack eyes Nico skeptically. “C’mon, Neeks. You’re acting like a lovesick fool. Just ask her out already.”

“Jack, I told you it’s not like that. She’s just��nice to talk to,” Nico won’t meet Jack’s expectant eyes, focusing his attention on the wooden cubby for any vibration or buzz of his phone against the hardwood.

Ever since the night he met you at one of the post-game trips to the bar, Jack knew Nico was smitten, encouraging him to do something before someone else came along and whisked you away under his nose.

“Bullshit. You’ve been glued to your phone for weeks now. Every time you hear even the slightest indication your phone is ringing, you’re jumping at the chance to answer it,” Jack calls him out on his eagerness.

“I have not been! I’m just-“ Nico’s defensive tone is cut short by the quiet ring of his phone, head snapping over to where it rests next to his helmet. His hand immediately shoots out to grab it, smiling when he sees your name on the screen.

“Hey! I was just thinking about giving you a call. Just got done with practice and was wondering if you wanted to-“ Nico stops mid-sentence after hearing Jack clear his throat, already having forgotten where he was and that Jack was standing right behind him.

Jack raises his eyebrows at his friend, giving him a much deserved ‘I told you so,’ look.

“Hang on a second, okay?” Nico puts his hand over the speaker of his phone, addressing Jack. “Can you just go shower already? This proves absolutely nothing. It’s an isolated incident,” he whispers, not wanting you to be hinted to the previous conversation.

Jack shakes his head, laughing. “Whatever you say, Cap. Hi, y/n!!” Jack shouts out as he walks towards the showers, hearing you return his greeting with a small giggle through Nico’s phone, wondering when the two of you are finally going to admit your feelings for each other.

I wish that you could see ‘em, their faces lighten up; Their past is cold and empty, they know it’s been enough; Of waitin’ on somebody, someone who doesn’t care; But he knows her name, she knows he’ll always be there

“Y/n, when are you finally going to lock that man down? You know he’s absolutely obsessed with you, right?” your best friend asks you, watching Nico glide across the ice.

Your cheeks involuntarily turn red, not knowing how to respond to her. You know how you feel about Nico, but you can’t just assume that he feels the same way. “You don’t know that. He’s just a nice guy. He could act like this towards all of his friends.”

No sooner than the words leave your mouth, Nico makes eye contact with you from across the ice. His face breaks out into the widest grin you think you’ve ever seen, your own matching his. You give him a small wave, his gloved hand returning the gesture as you watch Jack skate up to his side. The disappointment settles in your stomach the second his bright eyes are no longer focused on yours, trying really hard not to be mad at Jack, considering they are working right now.

Your best friend, witnessing the entire interaction, has her own smile on her face, knowing that you deserve someone like Nico in your life after your previous relationship endeavors. You’ve been hurt time and time again due to how quickly you become attached, always seeing the best in the worst people. Nico is different, though. She can see how much he wants to make you happy, how kind he is. If any man’s face lights up like that when looking at you, there’s a 100% chance he’s already in love with you.

Which is why, when her and Jack catch each other’s eye, a silent understanding is passed between the two, a small nod of confirmation shared.

Jack feels the same way about Nico as your best friend does about you. Nico deserves someone like you after all of his past failed relationships. All of the girls taking advantage of his loving nature and kindness because they want the status that comes with dating a professional athlete, moving on to the next sport when they get bored with Nico. Jack having been there to pick up the pieces, Nico getting far too attached far too quickly with all the wrong people. But watching the way you always look at Nico, like he’s the only person in every room you’re in, he knows you’re someone Nico needs to keep around.

So, Jack starts putting his part of the unspoken plan into motion.

“Go, do it now,” Jack encourages Nico.

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Nico turns to face Jack, trying to not be annoyed he’s stealing his attention away from you.

“Ask her out, duh? Now’s the time. She can’t say no in front of all these people, right?” Jack gives him a slight push, skating him right over to the glass.

“I don’t want her to say yes because she’s been put on the spot, Jack. I want her to say yes because she genuinely has feelings for me,” Nico protests, trying to stop himself from being pushed towards you.

His efforts are pointless, hearing Jack yell out “Y/n!!” loud enough that you’re able to hear him through the glass.

“Hi!!” you giggle out, laughing at the pout on Nico’s face.

Nico looks up at you, pout immediately dissolving. “So, can I expect a win tonight or am I going to end up being some kind of bad luck charm, since it’s my first game?” you shout at Nico, being brave and taking your friend’s encouragement to heart, attempting to be a little flirtatious.

“Are you kidding me? You could never be bad luck. If anything, I think this will be our best game this season,” Nico perks up a bit, skating a little closer to the glass, wishing the barricade wasn’t there, wanting to hear your voice and see your blushing cheeks without the slight blur from the scratched surface.

“I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure,” you laugh out, unconsciously leaning forward, focused on how much you love the way Nico’s hair flares out in little tufts on either side of his helmet.

“No pressure, just the truth,” Nico shrugs. He catches Jack out of the corner of his eye, remembering the younger forward’s words as he was pushed over here against his will. The small look of expectancy on Jack’s face pushes Nico to take the risk, deciding he’s done tiptoeing around his feelings for you.

“In fact, after we win this game due to the luck you have running through your veins, why don’t I take you out for a celebratory dinner? Or drinks? Or ice cream? Or whatever you want?” Nico starts rambling, his nerves sky rocketing once he sees the soft surprise take over your features.

You’re beginning to think the blush on your face is permanent at this point, feeling it grow deeper at his question. You’re trying to think of a clever response, not wanting to seem too eager, but you blurt out “Ice cream!” before your brain can stop your mouth.

Nico chuckles in both relief and amusement.

“Uhm, I mean, that sounds fun,” you try to recover. “As long I’m not blamed when this supposed ‘good luck’ backfires on everyone.”

Nico shakes his head, assuring you that’s not possible. The sound of the buzzer signaling warm ups are over startles you, feeling embarrassed at how much you jumped.

“Meet me after the game, okay? I’ll be in the tunnels, waiting,” Nico shouts before he skates off, giving a small wave.

Watching him glide away, something tugs at your stomach, telling you he’ll always be there waiting for you. Not just after games. Not just tonight.

Jack and your best friend look at each other through the glass, having witnessed the whole conversation. You’re so focused on Nico’s retreating figure that you don’t notice the air high five they give each other.

She toes the line between em’, he says he’s new at this; There’s holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss; He hates it when she’s crying, he hates when she’s away; Even at their worst, they know they’ll still be okay

It’s your first time dealing with Nico being on the road for this long (over a week) since your impromptu ice cream date months ago. They ended up winning the game, so Nico kept his promise. By the time the game ended, however, every ice cream parlor he drove you to was closed.

He ended up taking you to the grocery store, telling you to pick out any flavor you wanted, and he’d take you back to his apartment for an ice cream party. He casually bought 10 half gallons of ice cream, because he claimed he couldn’t decide on a flavor. He set up an extravagant topping bar, too, and did a whole bit as if he worked in an ice cream shop.

Ever since that night, your ice cream dates became a routine, meeting him at his apartment after home games, bad days, and just nights you wanted to see him. The two of you were determined to eat through all of the ice cream he bought, Nico complaining that all the extra sugar was slowing him down on the ice.

Tonight, however, you were sitting in your apartment with your best friend, upset because you haven’t heard from Nico in three days.

“I’m sure they’re just busy, Y/n. I have a hard time believing Nico would just ghost you,” she tries to reason with you, not liking how down you seem.

“I thought that on day one, then again on day two. But then you came over and Jack has been messaging you for the past hour, so they’re obviously not busy right now,” you huff out, staring at your cold, black screen.

Despite how much time the two of you have been spending together, nothing has really changed between the two of you. There’s never been a conversation about what the cuddles on his couch mean, or the fact that you’ve been coming to all of his games that are in Jersey. You never discussed what it meant when he gave you one of his jerseys to wear, and you still haven’t given it back. Not a word about it was shared the night you tagged along to the bar with him and the rest of the team and he drove you home, walking you to your door because you were a little too tipsy, only a small goodbye shared after you stood in your doorway, staring back at him for an eternity.

“Well, Nico is the captain. Maybe he’s got other stuff going on that Jack doesn’t. Do you want me to ask Jack why-“

“No!” you’re quick to interrupt. “I don’t want him thinking I’m some level 3 clinger when we’re not even dating.”

She just rolls her eyes, everyone but the two of you aware that you’re basically dating without the label.

“Alright, I won’t. It was just a suggestion,” she puts her hands in the air, surrendering.

Looking at your phone again, you sigh at the lack of activity.

“They’re coming back tonight anyways, right? Maybe he’ll call when he gets back in. He might be asleep on the bus or something. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is,” you reassure yourself.

You best friend texts Jack anyways, tired of seeing you freak out over this, wanting to know why Nico just suddenly went radio silent on you the last three days of their roadie.

~~

“Neeks,” Jack nudged Nico, knowing he was awake.

“What? I told you I just wanted to be left alone to sleep. I’m tired,” Nico snapped, his mood matching yours, even from miles away.

“Okay, mr pouty butt, no need to take my head off,” Jack responded, earning an eye roll from Nico. “Just wanna know why you’re in such a bad mood when you know you can call Y/n at anytime.”

Nico hadn’t talked to you in three days and it was killing him. Luke had made a comment about how often he called you, sometimes two to three times a day, and it made him worried he was being annoying, considering the two of you weren’t even officially together. But, he hadn’t heard from you, either, so he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence incase you really did think he was being clingy.

“I’m just…giving her space,” Nico shrugged, not wanting to get into the details with Jack on the slightly smelly bus.

“Whatever you want, man, but maybe you should call her when we get back. Just so she knows you’re not ghosting her,” he advises, not wanting to tell him that you’re sitting at home pouting just like he is. He didn’t want you to find out your best friend had betrayed your trust, either.

It’s like an alarm went off in Nico’s head. He never once thought that you’d think he just up and quit talking to you for no reason. Or because he didn’t want to. Because god, did he want to. All he ever wanted to do was talk to you. First thing in the morning, before he goes to bed at night, when he’s bored, when he sees a stray cat, when he passes by your favorite bakery, when he sees someone with a cup from your favorite coffee shop, always. He always wants to talk to you.

“Shit, you’re right,” Nico sits up, grabbing his phone and opening your contact.

~~

“Uhh…he’s calling me,” you blurt out, finally seeing the Nico’s contact picture pop up on your phone screen, watching his smiling face with whipped cream everywhere stare back at you. “What do I do?”

“Answer it, dummy!” your best friend rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know if I want to,” you tell her, still just watching it ring. “He did just ghost me for three days, what if it makes me look pathetic?”

“Oh my god you’re not going to look pathetic, just answer the damn phone!”

You watch the phone screen go black, the decision being made for you.

“Well, I guess that answers that one. Or…doesn’t answer it,” you look up at her.

“I swear, you’re both so helpless,” she groans out, raking her hands down her face in frustration.

“Maybe he’ll get a taste of his own medicine,” you say, the taste of the words on your tongue bitter, knowing you should have just answered the phone.

“Whatever, I’m going to pick up Jack. He said they just got in, incase you were wondering,” she tells you before leaving your apartment, leaving you to sulk alone, again.

~~

Nico rushes over to your apartment, praying that you’re still awake so he can fix this. After you didn’t answer his call, he freaked out, thinking he’s fucked this whole thing up before it even started.

Jack told him to just wait until tomorrow and try to call you again, but Nico needed to fix this now.

Nico barely puts his car in park before he’s running into your building, pressing the elevator button over and over again in hopes it’ll make the door open faster. Once he finally reaches your floor, he’s speed walking straight to your door, knocking on it like his life depends on seeing your face.

“Y/n! It’s me!” he tries not to shout, but he makes sure he speaks loud enough for you to hear him through the door. “Please open up. I wanna see you. Wanna talk to you,” he pleads.

He’s about to start the harsh assault on your door again, at this point trying to wake you up in case you had gone to sleep, just needing to see you and fix all of this.

He hears the lock click, his breath catching in his throat.

When you open the door, he’s met with you clad in your pajamas and hair haphazardly thrown on the top of your head in a knot. You look confused, not expecting to see him outside of your door this late at night.

“Nico?” is all you say, not knowing how else to react.

“Hey,” he breathes out, thinking about how cute you look right now, even if there is a frown on your face.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, is something wrong? Didn’t you just get back? Why aren’t you home right now?” he sees you staring at his tired eyes with sympathy.

“I had to see you,” is all he can manage to say, not exactly having a plan.

He hears the small giggle come out of your mouth, loving the sound.

“Okay, well here I am,” you respond to him, switching your weight from one foot to the other.

Nico shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “I had to see you, and fix this.”

He watches your face morph into confusion. “What do you mean?”

Maybe he was just being paranoid? And dramatic?

“This. Us. The fact that we haven’t spoken in three days,” he starts, knowing he was right when you stand a little taller, like you were bracing yourself. “I swear, I didn’t mean to just go silent on you. Luke got in my head, made me think I was being annoying. I got a little crazy thinking about how ‘we’re not even dating, why am I being so clingy right now?’, but then I realized, I want to be clingy. I want to talk to you every hour of every day. I want to be dating you.”

He hears your gasp. “You…what?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” he speaks softer and slower this time. “Hell, according to Jack I basically already am. But I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

He watches the tears fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. No, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he reaches forward, pulling you into a hug.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not-“ you can’t finish your sentence, Nico squishing your face into his chest.

“I’m new to all this, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, I don’t have much experience actually dating people. I didn’t want to scare you away by moving too fast, but then I kinda did the opposite, huh?” he keeps talking, his nerves getting the best of him once again.

“Nico, listen to me,” you pull back, looking up to meet his brown eyes. “I want this too.”

Nico breaks into a smile so wide you think his skin is going to split.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” you confess. “I don’t know how to get used to you being gone all the time, I don’t know how to have these conversations, I don’t know how to keep myself from falling so fast, but I want to figure out how to do it with you.”

He wipes at the tears under your eyes. “Even if they’re happy tears, I don’t like seeing them in your eyes.”

Once again, that blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on your face makes an appearance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call earlier. I was being a brat and trying to give you a taste of your own medicine,” you confess, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, too. For letting Luke get in my head and then pouting because you never called me,” he responds, sounding just as guilty as you feel.

“Promise me we won’t be bratty with each other again? I don’t like it, it seems very out of character for us?” you ask, looking up and resting your chin on his chest.

“Promise,” he tells you, staring down at you.

You move your head back, feeling the moment intensify.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” he whispers.

“Okay.”

His lips feel exactly as you imagined, soft and plush, slotting against your bottom lip perfectly.

As you walk backwards, leading him into your apartment, you can feel the sureness of this. How right it feels. How, no matter what comes at the two of you, no matter if it’s something big or a silly little misunderstanding like tonight, you’ll always come out okay on the other end.

He laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face; She loves how he talks late at night, when there’s no one else to say; How she’s beautiful and funny and smart like nothin’ he’s ever seen; He’s good to her, and she wants it more than everything in-between

“I can’t believe they made us sit through that god-awful play,” you say as Nico unlocks his door. “I mean, the entire thing was in French. I don’t speak French! And neither does Jack! I swear, I love my best friend, I do, but just because she was a French double major in college doesn’t mean everything we do has to be in French.”

Nico chuckles at you, having understood the play quite well. “I told you I could play translator if you wanted me to, but you said no,” he takes off your coat, hanging it on the small set of hooks in his entry way.

“It was more fun to make up my own plot,” you shrug, taking off your shoes and making your way to his couch.

Laughing at you again, Nico makes a pit stop in his kitchen to make both of you a small bowl of ice cream before joining you on the couch.

“You know, I really like it when you wear your glasses, you should wear them more often,” he blurts out, handing you your bowl.

“These bug-eyed things?” you pull a face, earning a real, belly laugh from him. “I’m sorry? Does my face look funny or something?”

He waits until he catches his breath to reply. “Not at all. My beautiful, bug-eyed girlfriend.”

You don’t know why you even buy blush anymore, not ever having to wear any around Nico. “I love that you always say things to give me an ego boost,” you joke.

“I’m being serious,” he responds, the change in his tone confusing you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met, and the funniest jokester I’ve ever interacted with.”

“You did not just seriously call me a ‘jokester’” you deadpan, ruining the moment.

“Hush, woman, I’m trying to compliment you here,” he lightly scolds, earning a laugh from you. “I’m trying to tell you how much I love you, and you’re caught up on my choice of words.”

You’re stunned to silence. “You…love me?”

“Of course I love you? I’d be crazy not to,” he takes the bowl of half-melted ice cream from your hands and places it on the small table in front of you.

“I’d be crazy not to love you back,” you tell him, sliding your arms around his torso as he crawls over to hover over you.

“Glad neither of us are crazy then,” he whispers onto your lips as he meets them in a kiss.

The kiss is slow and sweet, both of you taking your time savoring one another. You can taste the caramel ice cream on his lips, enhancing his already intoxicating taste.

You think about how hard you’ve fallen for this man. You think you fell for him on your first ‘date’, really, just too scared to say anything until now.

Unknown to you, Nico is thinking the same thing, kicking himself for not telling you sooner.

You also think about how much you love living life with Nico. How he always seems to know how to cheer you up when you’re upset. How he brings you coffee and bagels every morning on his way home from workouts. How he plans double date nights with Jack and your best friend, knowing that you feel like you neglect her sometimes, being too caught up in your life with him.

He treats you better than you’ve ever been treated, not being used to having someone be so attentive and all in as he is.

Nico was the surprise you didn’t know you needed. And while you can’t wait to see where the two of you end up in the future, you love the moments like this, and everything in-between.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "I can't believe I'm saying this... No. We can't kill him."

Alastor: "Oh I DO believe we can! Between my own illustrious career and your more effective if far less stylish hackjob with those inelegant, messy, uncultured Exorcists, our combined body count at the very LEAST proves that we-"

Vaggie: "Fine. We could, but we won't kill him."

Alastor: "Why EVER not? I brought him all this way, to this dingy back alley, so that we would not sully those TACKY hotel carpets-"

Vaggie: "So Charlie wouldn't see this, you mean."

Alastor: "She cannot POSSIBLY object to what she's not aware of!"

Vaggie: "She'll still be fucking upset when she hears about it afterwards."

Alastor: "Then don't tell her."

Vaggie: "I-"

Alastor: "You are QUITE skilled at that little trick aren't you?"

Vaggie: "Wow yeah, and it worked out SO great for her last time!"

Alastor: "Didn't it? For you certainly it did. She barely takes her hands off you theses days doesn't she. Truely I shudder to imagine what the nights might bring-"

Vaggie: "I brought my spear here because you said you were in danger. I'll make getting a spear in the eye the danger if you say one more word."

Alastor: "Correction! I said I needed help. There is nothing in hell that could leave ME in ANY danger."

Vaggie: "I'm not from hell. Neither was the dick that almost killed you last time."

Alastor: "My point, oh terrifying hotel manager, is that this thing-"

Vaggie: "Don't jab at her ex like that! What the fuck Alastor? You'll leave a hole!"

Alastor: "-he is a loose thread in her life, my dear, and one that might seek to re-entangle himself with her, now the hotel has proven itself not entirely a joke and there is power and influence in Hell on the table, ready for the taking."

Vaggie: "He could also be a fucking ally. Or just a guy minding his own business in Hell-"

Alastor: "Or he could make the hotel HIS business and put YOU out of a job. Yes~?"

Vaggie: "..."

Alastor: "He DID mange that well enough in the past now didn't he?"

Vaggie "... if he can do it better than me, then, fine."

Alastor: "You are gripping your spear rather tightly as you say that."

Vaggie: "I'm trying not to shove it down your throat."

Alastor: "Touching! Oh I DO find you rather amusing my dear, ever SUCH a font of self-inflicted misery and abject, whole-hearted suffering!"

Vaggie: "You bring it out in people."

Alastor: "Don't I? And how I would hate to lose you as a source of daily entertainment!"

Vaggie: "I thought you wanted to kill him to keep him away from Charlie."

Alastor: "Him? Hmmm, no, I doubt he would be an issue. For me."

Vaggie: "Great. So why bother."

Alastor: "To keep YOU around, of course~!"

Vaggie: "You mean, to have something you can tell Charlie I did next time you want her upset and alone and desperate enough to make another fucking deal with you!"

Alastor: "You wound me! Why I would never manufacture such a thing! I didn't need to the first time, did I?"

Vaggie: "... You try killing him, and I WILL stab you."

Alastor: "If you're so worried of entrapment why not head me off and call her right now? Let her bear witness! Or send a, ugh, recording of it directly to her afterwards!"

Vaggie: "How the fuck would that help!?"

Alastor: "Why shouldn't it? Better to ask forgiveness than permission, yes?"

Vaggie: "Oh yeah wonderful idea Alastor, I'll just call her up like- Hey Charlie, guess what sweetie- I did a murder! But you still love me, right???"

Alastor: "She did after the first several THOUSAND."

Vaggie: "That was before I knew her!"

Alastor: "A death is a death. In your case they were all the total destruction of otherwise immortal souls, but in any case,I fail to see how one killing more should make any difference."

Vaggie: "Then you really don't get Charlie at all."

Alastor: "Oho? I 'get' her rather well I think. I got her into Cannibal Town, my dear. I got her to PRECISELY where she is now."

Vaggie: (snorts) "Sure you did."

Alastor: "She would not have the hotel without me."

Vaggie: "Fuck the hotel. If you think our dream is some walls and shitty furniture then you don't get why we're doing this either."

Alastor: "Hmm."

Alastor: "... regardless! Shall we?"

Vaggie: "NO."

Alastor: (sighs) "You are being rather tiresome about this."

Vaggie: "Then you shouldn't have invited me to this creepy wannabe bonding moment thing."

Alastor: "I am TRYING to help you! It feels rather like attempting to prize a poisoned rat carcass from the mouth of that absurd little hotel manifestation you call a CAT."

Vaggie: "Always a compliment to be compared to KeeKee's perfection."

Alastor: "I beg to differ."

Vaggie: "You'll let him go. Now."

Alastor: "Really after I brought the man all the way here, dragging him kicking and screaming through shadows the entire way-"

Vaggie: "Alastor."

Alastor: "-he'll never be the same again anyway at this point. Wouldn't it be so much more KINDER to EnD HIs MISERY~"

Vaggie: "Drop him."

Alastor: "If you insist." (splat)

Vaggie: (groan) "Not drop him LITERALLY into the trash bin-"

Alastor: "Exact words my dear, we are in hell after all. Oh and please DO come crying to me, won't you? When he renews his advances to Charlie, rekindles that old flame, and sweeps her off her cloven hooves with his... well...."

Alastor & Vaggie: (stares at the him)

Alastor: "...I assume he must have SOME merits, somewhere. His well fitted suits, perhaps."

Vaggie: "Charlie... Charlie has standards."

Alastor: "Are we sure?"

Vaggie: "Hey."

Alastor: "Present current standard excluded, of course."

Vaggie: "No, I..." (sigh) "...maybe I'm proof she needs higher standards for dating people, honestly."

Alastor: "Ahhhh. When she dumps you, I hope you will keep in touch. You are so inconsolably self-loathing WHILE in a loving relationship I can only dream of the succulent agonies you will extrude while heartbroken..."

Vaggie: "Who says you can't be a little heartbroken while loving someone." (walking away) "Also, 'succulent'? 'Extrude'?? What the fuck am I Alastor, a fruit gusher candy?"

Alastor: (bangs trash lid down) (following) "Actually I'm afraid I am a bit peckish and was envisioning a delightfully well aged side of venison-"

Vaggie: "Gross."

-night at the hotel-

Charlie: "He WHAT!? Noooo... he didn't..."

Vaggie: "Cross my heart, sweetie. Maybe the fight with Adam knocked something loose in his head."

Charlie: "He hadn't even done any maiming before you got there? He WAITED???"

Vaggie: "I mean emotionally speaking your ex might a kinda scarred from the trip there, but physically? Barely a bump or scratch on him."

Charlie: "That's, that's amazing!"

Vaggie: "Suit was a loss though. Not that that's much of a loss."

Charlie: "Alastor called you AND he waited! AND listened to you! It's like he was outsourcing having a conscious, oh Vaggie that's HUGE! That's- Wait."

Vaggie: "It's a brand new way for him to be a pain in the ass but whatever. Yay."

Charlie: "Wait, Vaggie- What's wrong with Sev's suit? You like MY suits!"

Vaggie: "Your suits look good on you, babe. And best of all they have you in them."

Charlie: "Oh. Heh."

Vaggie: "And I am NOT taking on the job of being that other asshole's conscious. I'm already employed. Plus it's hard enough not to stab him anyway."

Charlie: "What about helping him as his friend?"

Vaggie: "What about him holding out on us until he could get you into making a deal with him sweetie?"

Charlie: "Well. Okay. Yes. He's not... he's still got a ways to go..."

Vaggie: "No shit."

Charlie: "But he COULD have just done the murder and THEN tried getting you involved! And he didn't. He listened when you said no. That's something, right?"

Vaggie: "It's, something alright."

Charlie: "It's improvement!"

Vaggie: "To his morals or his manipulation games?"

Charlie: "We'll find out! But for now..."

Charlie: (scoots closer)

Vaggie: "?"

Charlie: "Maybe, um. Tell me again how you stood between my ex and certain death...?"

Vaggie: "....really? Really."

Charlie: "It sounds like it was VERY cool~"

Vaggie: "It was the lowest effort rescue ever, hun. I think I might have stepped on him a few times. Uh. On accident."

Charlie: "Mm. Still kinda hate him?"

Vaggie: "I'm still open to stabbing him for you if that's what you mean."

Charlie: (giggles) "Only for me though, huh?"

Vaggie: "Sure I, I'll- I'll go do it right now, if you want?"

Charlie: "I've got a better idea of what we could be doing."

Vaggie: "Y-yeah?"

Charlie: "I might have to take my suit off for it, if that's okay~"

Vaggie: "Uhhhh-"

Charlie: "But first!" (hugs gf)

Charlie: "Thanks, Vaggie... For not ignoring Alastor's call, or turning right around and letting him kill someone when he didn't have to. Even when it was my ex."

Vaggie: (melting) "That's just, part of being hotel manager right?"

Charlie: "It's amazing." (squeezes) "I'm so proud of you."

Vaggie: "I just did a normal thing, Charlie."

Charlie: "Not so normal down here."

Vaggie: "Or for an Exorcist."

Charlie: "You're more of a guardian angel these days. Especially days like this."

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "Was it hard?"

Vaggie: "...yeah. Sorry."

Charlie: "Then THAT makes me even prouder."

Vaggie: "....thanks, sweetie..."

Charlie: "Vaggie? What's wrong?"

Vaggie: "Nothing. All good."

Charlie: "....."

Vaggie: "I'm good, okay?"

Charlie: "Okay. And I can stay in hug mode alllll night."

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "Look, not to question your taste in ex boyfriends, but-"

Charlie: "Wha- that's what-?"(laughs) "Vaggie, as a lesbian, I really don't think you get to have much of an opinion here!"

Vaggie: "-there has to be SOMETHING attractive about him, right? Something you liked? Or, still like? I mean, we've both got grey-ish skin I guess, and there's the hat thing he wears- you always liked Pentious's hat too- or is the suit thing? I could, they're not that hard to move in guess, I could probably wear-"

Charlie: (kiss) "You look great in anything, Vaggie. And happiest in skirts, which makes them prettiest on you."

Vaggie: "But-"

Charlie: "And I like you BEST in nothing~"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "That's a lot easier."

Charlie: "Heheheh."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.

AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)

Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))

Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.

Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.

While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.

"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"

My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.

My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)

And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality

(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)

Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).

Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.

Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

To see later: PINK PANTHER

What are these acronyms?

[unknown-cold]

The artist: ( @itshuansart )on Instagram and Twitter/X

I love this so much!! Best art that expresses Caitlyn's sadness and suffering, I really wish I had seen something like this on the show.

I can say that Caitlyn's character is one of the most misunderstood characters ever, that these people see Caitlyn as just an enforcer from Piltover made them not understand her, or rather they don't want to understand her character.

Because it's getting really suspicious, I feel like Caitlyn's hate is more than just a character who did bad things. There are characters who did worse things. Let's take Silco, one of the characters who did the worst things in the entire show, from trying to kill an entire family for control, to flooding his entire population with shimmer and turning some of them into monsters and making children work in dangerous factories, all of this and he didn't get half the hate that Caitlyn did. Silco is a true dictator who didn't care about anyone but himself and his interests and his intentions were always evil. Unlike Caitlyn, she tried in the end to fix her mistakes and admitted her mistakes too. And to everyone says she is evil or dictatorial because she used gas, is it a bad thing yes, but Caitlyn had no evil intentions in using gas, she used Gray to facilitate the capture of Silco's gangs and allies who were basically harming the people of Zaun even the kids as we saw in ep 2 in S2 when Chross's Goons was following Isha, and of course capturing Jinx as well, she did that because it was a less harmful solution than sending armies of enforcers and Noxus men to Zaun, and we saw because she stopped using Gray after she end her mission and failed to capture Jinx. If Caitlyn was really evil and dictatorial as some people claim, she would have used Gray again to exterminate the people of Zaun, but she didn't do that because that's not her personality that we knew in season 1, and most of the problems that happened were because of Ambessa, and her manipulation and constant incitement for Caitlyn to capture Jinx.

So yeah hating on Caitlyn is so hypocritical and completely unnecessary, seriously I can't believe there are still people who message me and reblog my blogs and not just me but other people saying that Caitlyn is an evil cop and you should stop talking about her and liking her, or you'll be just like her. Are these people crazy or stupid or what exactly!? What does my liking a fictional character have to do with you thinking that I'll be like her in real life!? These people really need to grow up and leave people alone, like if you don't like something and you see someone else like it there's no need to give them your opinion because they won't care and we who like the same thing won't care either so why bother us with your opinion, and then it's selfish of you to want other people to be like you and agree with you (especially when your style of criticism is rude and terrible)

So I always say the show is not black and white, and there isn't only one side good and another side bad. Arcane proves every day that this show is not for everyone and if you want to enjoy it you have to open your mind well and be open-minded, and most importantly put politics and real-life issues aside, and enjoy this fantasy world with flawed characters and good writing. (This show is not designed to solve political issues. At the end of the day it is a show based on a video game)

[lyraoftheevergreens]

The Realms Enchantress

Chapter 1

nsfw: minors do not engage!

Pairing: Daemon x Fem!Targaryen Reader, Daemon x Niece!OFC

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: the usual, Targaryen incest

Authors note: I hope you all love chapter one of this fanfic idea I had in my head. I was having a hard time getting started but I hope you all enjoy it. Other than the characters being Targaryen and having Targaryen features I’m gonna try as hard as I can to get descriptive of her features.

Word count: 1,545

Tag List: open 🖤

Y/n Targaryen, on her second name day was declared the realms enchantress. To see her was to love her. Her gorgeous purple eyes could put you in a trance of awe at her beauty. She was the most treasured girl to her family, her mother and father loved her so deeply. Nobody would ever fathom Daemon capable of such affection but he loved his niece deeply. Then 3 years later came the birth of her sister Rhaenyra the realms delight. The realm had two Targaryen princess to marvel over. The king and queen had two princess to cherish. For Daemon, he was wrapped around their fingers. He greatly enjoyed teaching y/n valerian and taking her for rides on Caraxes. He would brush and braid her hair when he would walk past her chambers hear her cries and catch her fighting the handmaidens upon entering her room. “Ñuhon byka zaldrīzes, what seems to be the problem.” He says entering the door to your chambers from hearing your screams with the handmaidens. “Kepus.” You ran to your uncle tears streamed down your face and weld in your eyes as you leaped into his arms, he crouched down to catch you and held on to you tight. “I- don’t - want- my - hair- in - braids - in - the -tight - ball - on top- my head.” You choked out in between sobs that have now turned into hiccups in your uncles shoulder. That was all it took and you were sat between his legs as he brushed your hair back and he loosely braided it. Nobody had ever thought Daemon would be braiding hair, but yet here he was, braiding yours. He loved to give his two nieces gifts when he returned from his travels. Often times presenting both you and Rhaenyra necklaces made by the locals or rings and earrings. Fruit from where he had been, or clothing made from the locals. As you got older it was always Jewelry.

After riding your dragon Dirrax, you retreated to your chambers for a bath. In preparation for your 16th name day feast that would begin tonight. It was to be a 5 day celebration for the kings first born turning 16 years of age. When entering your chambers ready to instruct your maids to prepare the bath your met with a man laid in your bed. Not any man, your uncle who has been away for 2 years.

“Nyke’ve missed ao ñuhon byka zaldrīzes, Emagon ao missed aōha kepus?” (I’ve missed you my little dragon, have you missed your uncle?)

“Hen rhinka nyke emagon. Ao geptot syt 2 jēdri” (Of course I have, you left for 2 years)

“Nyke geptot naejot ensure allies hen aōha kepa.” (I left to ensure allies of your fathers remain allies)

“Syt skoro syt?” (For why?)

“Naejot ensure pōnta don’t forget skoriot pōja loyalties pirtir.” (To ensure they don’t forget where their loyalties lie.)

“I hear father has named you commander of the city watch.”

“He has.” Daemon answered with that smug smirk on his face.

“I give it a year till you are exiled once more.”

“Why must you lack faith in me, dōnus bykus talus.” (sweet little niece)

“It’s what happens is it not?”

“I brought you gift from my travels but I don’t think you’re deserving of it now. I think I shall gift it to Rhaenyra.”

“Kepus! It was only a jest. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your humor.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t, now turn around before your luck runs out.” With that you turn around and you feel him begin to lift your hair you take over and hold your hair up for him it is then that you feel the cold metal lay on your skin. His finger tips on your skin as he closes the clasp of the necklace send shivers through your body. You look down at the necklace, Valyrian steel with purple gems. “A lady in pentos was selling the stones, purple garnet I believe she called them. All I remember is that they reminded me of your eyes. So I had the necklace made from them.”

“Valyrian steel, like dark sister.”

“Yes. Now you and I both own a small piece of our ancestry.” You turn to face him so he can see it on you.

“Gevie.” He says, almost in a whisper. With that you swung your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. It didn’t take a lot to reach him now that you are 10 in 6 years of age. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, not letting you go.

“Thank you kepus, I love it. Avy jorrāelan, kirimvose.” (I love you, thank you)

“Happy 16th name day my sweet girl.”

“I am a woman grown uncle.”

“You’re the little girl that sits between my legs and has me braid her hair, Avy jorrāelan.” With that he puts you down and kisses your forehead and heads off.

“What’s wrong dear sister.” Rhaenyra enters as she sees you pouting at the door of your chambers.

“I can’t find my maids and I would like a bath.”

“So search for them.” She rolled her eyes and walked away. Leaving you stood there playing with your new necklace. A gift from your favorite uncle whom you were determined to show you are a woman grown. After having bathed and had your hair done you opted for your purple gown to match your new piece of jewelry. It accentuated your newly developed curves and breast. Daemon was surely to see you in a new light now.

You made your way to throne room turned dining hall to eat with your family and all who gathered from the realm to celebrate your 16th name day celebrations.

“Princess Y/n Targaryen!” Shouted the announcer, everyone stood as you made your way to the royal table. Sat between your mother and father. Your parents stood and greeted you, told you how beautiful you looked, your father hugged you and planted a kiss above your head. Your sister Rhaenyra of course was in her own world with Alicent. Your Uncle who was sat next to your father bowed his head to you,” you truly are a sight to behold dear niece.” With that you took your seat as many approached the table to wish you a happy name day. Everything was going well until Jason Lannister approached you, “your beauty is spoken of across the realm for great reason I see my princess. Words would never compare to the beauty sat before me.”

“What, you thought it a lie. An ill jest amongst the realm of my niece is beauty?” Began your uncle, clenching his goblet of wine. He is clenching so hard you would think it would bend in his grasp. “No my prince, not at all.”

“Perhaps you shall return to your seat.” With that said and a bow of the Lannister lads head he retreated to where he sits. Next was one of the Baratheon lads, so many of them who is whom? You never took the time to learn them. “Your graces, princess,” he bowed,” it is an honor to be here to celebrate you. You are clearly a gorgeous woman grown and when the time comes for you to begin your tour for a husband, please keep in mind house Baratheon on your travels.”

“That is very kind of you lord Rogar.” Your father thanked him.

“You are older than her father do you truly think that appropriate words for a maiden of her stature.” There goes your uncle once more.

“Daemon I think that’s enough.” Your father chimes in. Daemon just huffs and sits back in his chair glaring at the Baratheon lord.

After everyone is done eating the dancing has began, you were now on your 3rd cup of wine and were understanding why your uncle loved this stuff so much. Rhaenyra and Alicent were off dancing while you, your mother, father and uncle were sat watching the festivities before you.

“Kepus, I wish to dance.”

“Go dance than.” He said gesturing to the crowd before you.

“Please uncle. It is my name day.”

“Only because it is shall I join you.” He took your hand and you both made your way to floor to dance. Daemon had a hard time letting you go so you can switch partners like your supposed to.

“Perhaps I don’t want to share you, bykus talus.”

“The dance calls for it Kepus.”

“Im a prince, who is to go against what I say goes.”

“Perhaps me, the princess.”

“Aōha being quba issa dōna hāedar. “ (your being bad my sweet girl)

“Kostilus nyke don’t va moriot jaelagon naejot sagon dōna. “ (perhaps I don’t always want to be sweet, maybe I want to be bad every now and again)

“Kostilus ñuhon riñītsos iksos drējī grown.” (perhaps my little girl is truly grown)

“ Kostilus nyke“ (perhaps I am) with this he grabs ahold of your face. Hands gripped tightly on both sides of your face as if he is about to kiss you, you close your eyes instinctively to prepare for the kiss when you feel his hand let go of you and he walks off. Leaving you on the dance floor alone on a crowded floor.

~

Chapter 2

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Rolan week - Day 7: Before the final battle.

Some nice little Rolan smut, i went in a different direction to what I was planning but such is life. @tealfling I hope you enjoy it!

Nsfw and 18+

The battle at Ramazaith’s Tower was over, Lorroakan was defeated. It was a long and arduous fight, one that would never had been accomplished without Lady Aylin, it did help immensely that she had a personal vendetta against him of course, his relentless search for her fuelled her fire, otherwise you would never have defeated him, not without the help of an Asimar on the warpath to protect themselves and their loved ones.

As your party started to regroup after the battle you noticed a familiar face, Rolan whom you had encountered at the Grove and in The Last Light Inn, a prickly fellow to put it mildly, his face was bloody and bruised, it hurt your heart to see him this way, knowing how much he wanted this apprenticeship to only be abused in such a horrible manner. A large sigh escaped your lips, Rolan had led many a vituperative rant against you, annoyed that you were always the one to be the saviour, yet you did not have it in you to just leave him there, injured and alone. Something about Rolan had drawn you toward him, ever since you met him in the Emerald Grove there was a connection, albeit an angry one for now, yet there was something that pulled you towards each other.

Stepping forward you held your own hand out to him, a gesture that you wanted to help, one that he reluctantly accepted allpwong you to help him up, a task that made your heart soar as you smiled at him, hoping to bridge the animosity between the two of you, after all, he would be a helpful asset in the coming battle in Baldur’s Gate, you wanted all the allies you could get and you felt you well deserved him as an ally.

Rolan’s face distorted at you as you helped him up, almost disgusted at the fact he needed your help once again, he brushed your hands off of him as he stood tall and proud before you, not needing your assistance. You stood before him and nodded slowly, the new master of Ramazith’s Tower did not need an outside saviour, it only needed its sorcerer.

Days had passed since Rolan had become master of the tower, a feat he had very much revelled in so far, to hear of how the citizens of Baldur’s Gate revered him as such an accomplished wizard only made you smile and your heart flutter again. Yet such accolades were not enough, Rolan thought he wanted the acceptance of the populace but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was you, and he did not have much chance to prove it, your time before the battle growing ever shorter. Though he thought that he despised you it was more complicated than that, he felt like he almost craved you, to feel the warmth of your skin upon his own, he could not explain why he felt this way, then again Rolan had never been good with his feelings.

Rolan eventually found you and your party in Sharress Carress, it was not a dignified place for you to stay but it kept you under the radar. As Rolan walked towards you he had to fend off prostitutes and women that would desire such a man as him, they pretended to be overly upset as he walked past and denied them. Eventually Rolan approached your own party, almost blocked from speaking to you by Astarion who has never trusted Rolan, only moving away at your request.

As you stood you dismissed your own party, making it clear that this interaction was a private one, one you were intrigued to behold, thinking your last interaction was the last you would see of him. Before Rolan approached you he ensured that he booked a private room, one that you could both talk to each other in without prying eyes, though words were not what Rolan had in mind, he wanted to address this chemistry between the two of of you and finally put it to rest.

It was a shock to you as Rolan took your hand gently in his as he walked you through the crowd, his grip tightened every time someone would approach you with their own proposition, he was moving quick to take you to the privacy of the room he had rented for the night, away from any prying eyes.

Once you had happened upon the room Rolan had locked the door behind you both, ensuring that there would be no undue disturbances. Before you could ask what he had brought you here for you felt his lips upon your own, his tongue dancing against your lips and entreating them for entrance and his hands roamed your hips, savouring the curves of your body.

You did not take much convincing to let Rolan's tongue have access, you were more than happy to do so. His hands upon you were like a dream come true, making sure to savour his touch and commit it to memory, for you may not feel a tender touch again as you head to face Orin and the Bhaalists on the morn.

You felt Rolan's guiding touch move you towards the bed, the backs of your knees knocking against the bedframe and causing you to fall upon it, making you look up at the firey Tiefling that stood over you. Rolan's eyes had always burned bright, the golden hue of his iris' was almost hypnotic on a good day, now they were positively aflame with passion, raking over your body and admiring your form, you could see the cogs turning in his head over which part of your body he would devour first.

The heavy weight of his body was felt upon your own, Rolan had finally descended upon you. Your neck was the first place to feel his touch, to feel his soft lips upon your skin whilst his sharp teeth nipped you and left marks claiming you as his, if you were to survive the fight against the Mindflayers and the Netherbrain tomorrow then he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, finally coming to terms with what his feelings were towards you, he wanted you to be his.

The soft nip of his teeth made you moan slightly, squirming with pleasure beneath him, your body silently asking for more and craving to feel him more intimately. As Rolan continued his asault against your neck you felt his hand stroke up the length of your thighs, moving the layers of your dress out of the way. You moaned with desperation as his hand found your core, bucking your hips onto his hand as you were desperate for relief.

A soft rumble of a chuckle escaped Rolan's lips as he continued to kiss your neck, his hand was right where he wanted it to be. As his hands began to explore the sensitive area of your wet folds it made him even harder for you, shuddering at the thought of you being so excited and ready to take him. Rolan buried his head in you neck and bit down softly on your skin so as to stop him from groaning at how good you felt for him, wishing that he could make you feel this way forever.

A few whimpers and begging on your part was all it took to break Rolan's resolve before he positioned his cock at your entrance, moving his own robes to one side and one hand lining himself before your aching core, his other hand holding you down roughly on the bed. Rolan's voice was thick and filled with lust as he spoke to you, calling you a greedy girl before finally thrusting into you.

Rolan's length was thick and ridged, you expected the ridges but didn't think of how good they would feel inside of you, adding to the pleasure that he was already bringing you. His pace was hot and heavy now, desperate for his own release, almost feral as he began to pound hard into you. It was not all one sided, Rolan knew how to use his hands and use them well, his thumb found your clit and helped bring you to climax, feeling your walls start to tighten around him, causing his hands to because rougher and more desperate.

It wasn't long until your own climax was brought forth, the warm feeling of pleasure radiated over your body as you felt Rolan shudder into you, his body collapsing onto your own, breathless with his forehead slick with sweat, errant strands of hair sticking to his wet forehead. You both laid their breathless and fully clothed, clothes that would need washing and attending to, in your haste to feel each other you had no time to remove your dress or his robes.

After bathing and placing on new atire the atmosphere grew strange, like the two of you both wanted to say something yet you had no idea how to do so, ignoring the feeling you both retired to bed and fell asleep in each others arms for the night, content together and enjoying this new feeling you had for each other, happy to feel the warm embrace of another's arms for a change.

Morning broke and you left early, unable to wake Rolan and say goodbye, you knew he would try and talk you out of the battle with the Netherbrain and the mindflayers but it needed to be done. It pained you to leave him alone so peaceful in bed without having said goodbye, you only hoped that he would accept your apology when you hopefully returned to him after the battle was won.

[webslingingslasher]

What if trouble was having like a crisis at a party or something, maybe like a panic attack and she either hides in a bathroom or runs to someone like Ethan or one of her friends and Peter finds her and is like ??? You didn't feel like you could come to me? And this is during the situationship so she feels like it's nothing more than sex or he's made it clear that's all he wants yk <3

you've been giving peter the cold shoulder all night.

you swore things were fine, but once you had a couple drinks in you, the annoyance of last week's argument hung over your head. peter knows it too. he's tried to be extra nice tonight, but you made sure to stay clear of him until you needed a refill.

'you wanna come hang with me and ethan for a sec?'

'nope, thanks for the drink. talk to you when i need a new one.'

the night took a drastic turn when you slipped away for the bathroom, finding yourself bouncing between bodies and flashing lights, vape clouds and screams, you break free and heave for air.

you tried to find solace in the bathroom, but you never noticed how small it felt. focusing on deep breaths until someone pounds on the door, 'hurry up! i need to pee!' it's a whined out by a person significantly more drunk than you.

there was no comfort or quiet where you went, your only option was backing up into a corner and holding a hand over your chest, doing your best to keep your heart from beating out.

you weren't sure how long had passed, but you felt like you had lead feet. everything was too much and you were shutting down, even if you wanted to move and make a break for peter's room, or the basement, you were stuck.

ethan finds you in a dark corner in the back of the house, he's unsure what you're doing at first, approaching like normal, his hand rubs your shoulder.

'doin alright, trouble?' when you gasp for air he tries to find your face, 'hey, you okay?'

you shake your head, 'i think i'm having a panic attack but i... i don't know why.' you lean into ethan’s touch as you slowly sink to the floor.

'shit, i... hey, want me to go get parker?' he's already moving, you pull at his hand. 'no. no, get ally or, or prince.' you tuck your face in your knees, doing your best to breathe deeply, while ethan looks for a friend.

skating  between bodies, he finds ally. she's with paul, who's with parker. doesn't matter, you're about to explode and you need her.

'ally, you gotta- ally we need to go. right now.' the urgency has her stepping forward, 'why? where are we going?' ethan breathes out your name, 'she's freaking out, i dunno. she said to get you.'

peter steps up, 'woah, what's going on?'

ethan has no time for it, he tugs on ally's arm, 'we gotta go.' ally sends peter a soft shrug before she's doing her best to keep up with ethan.

peter get's an achy feeling before following both of them, ally's already on her knees in front of you patting your hair. ethan's chewing on his nails when he notices peter, 'panic attack.'

it's all he needs to hear, peter crouches to your level. 'hey, trouble. want me to get you somewhere quieter?' your hand reaches for his on the floor, patting around until he holds it out for you. 'is that a yes?'

your breath is racing, your heart pounding, the noise is piercing and you can't move. you refuse to cry at a party in front of everyone, it’s why you're keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

you hate that he's here, that he's watching it go down, but you're so very thankful he's able to carry you to safety.

'i'm gonna pick you up, okay? i'm going to take you up these back stairs and into my room, is that okay?' you hold ally's wrist in your other hand. 'ally can come, she can stay the whole night in there with you, if you want.'

the tiniest of nods sent peter to move quicker than he ever has. he tapped your knees so you could stretch them down, an arm wrapped under your thighs and one behind your back, he secured you into his hold as he lifted you.

your hands clenched his shirt, it was less about it being peter and more to do with grounding yourself. tucking your head into his chest when he took the stairs two at a time.

'i'm rounding the corner, trouble. ally, wanna get the door for me?'

when his bedroom door shuts behind you it's dark, the music muffles. your heart rate lowers, it's like you can breathe better, no longer fighting to keep air.

peter gently sets you on his bed before crossing over to his windows, ripping the curtains open to let the moonlight fill his room. it's bright enough you can see everything.

ally holds you to her chest, 'oh my goodness, did you see something, or hear something?'

peter shakes his head, 'she was overstimulated.' your eyebrows furrow in ally's shirt, not even you had made that connection, but he did.

'ally,' peter didn't want to sound like a prick, but, 'maybe...' he made a pushing motion with his hand. 'maybe give her some space, just for a second.' she steps away, you feel so relieved from every ounce of pressure you had downstairs, you flop backwards onto peter's bed and sigh.

seconds pass, you feel embarrassed after breaking down in front of peter, especially when he made it clear he was in no rush to be your boyfriend, if ever.

you raise your head up to look at him, 'overstimulated, huh?' peter shrugs, 'i've been there too a few times.'

ally sat on the bed next to you, 'want me to play with your hair?' when peter said it, you felt it. you wanted to be alone in a dark room, maybe not totally alone, but you wanted someone who would just sit there until you needed them.

'um,' you stop her hand gently, 'would you mind if i said i kinda want to hang out with peter instead?' ally quickly stands, 'oh no, not at all! i totally get it, sometimes no one can comfort me like matty. text me if you need me, okay?'

you nod and wait until the door clicks, you pat the bed, waiting until peter sits before you talk.

'sorry. this is probably weird for you. i just know you don't care enough to talk to me or touch me so, you know, just chill here unless i quit breathing or something.'

you can hear nothing but muffled bass and shouts downstairs, it's a comfortable silence.

'hey, trouble, can i talk to you about something?' you hum in response, you can almost hear him thinking.

'i know you put a lot of emphasis on the boyfriend thing, and i know you hate it when i avoid it. but, i'm just not there yet. and i hate that dumb 'it's not you, it's me' stuff, but it is.'

you stay silent.

'and... i know i say dumb stuff a lot, but you are so much more than just a hookup to me. so when you hit me with the you don't care, it really, really hurts my feelings. because, i care about you a lot. i mean, i'd... i'd do anything for you. and i know that doesn't seem like a lot, but for me, that means everything.'

you know he's trying, but that conversation from weeks ago still holds a sour taste on your tongue. you mumble the words with grit, 'yeah, do anything except dumb boyfriend shit.'

'stop.'

'you said it, captain. not me.'

you can feel the frustration brewing in his chest.

'you push and push and when i finally open up you throw back something i said during a fight and under pressure. would it be fair that everytime you compliment me, i follow it up with a 'oh, but do you really? because the other week you called me a fucking coward.'

silence. you don't like when he's right.

'i know you didn't get the answer you wanted, and i'm sorry, but you can't bully me into a relationship. it just doesn't work like that.'

you know it doesn't, but it makes you feel a little better. sometimes dogpiling on peter makes you feel level footed, even if it's only for a second before he's making you feel guilty.

'i just want more, peter. and i don't mean that in a 'keep pressuring you into being my boyfriend' way. i don't know how to explain it.'

peter nibbles at his bottom lip, 'can you try?'

'i just want you to talk to me, and tell me things about yourself, or your childhood. i want you to tell me about the things that made you laugh that day, or show me your interests, or hobbies or really anything that's past surface value.'

you follow up with, 'i think i just want to know i have your commitment.'

you're glad you can't see his face, he's too quiet, you think this is the part where he officially breaks it off.

'you did a good job at explaining it.' his dismissal is enough to send you screaming and running, but he adds more before you could move.

'you have my commitment, trouble. i don't want anyone else but you, and if we need to have the conversation now, i'm off limits. i have been for a while, i'm sorry if i haven't made that clear.'

tilting your chin you get a glance of him, 'off limits?'

peter crosses out his body, 'trouble only zone. i'm talking about no flirting, deleting dm requests, harsh rejection and absolutely no touching.'

'trouble only?'

peter's shoulders drop in relief when the previously unrecognized tension lifts from the room.

he nods, 'only trouble can hear about my day, and childhood, and my hobbies. and touch, trouble can touch as much as she wants, whenever she wants.'

peter has one more thing to add.

'trouble, if i'm going to be anyone's boyfriend, i'm gonna be yours.'

he knows how to keep you latched. it works like a charm. but you can't let him know that.

'hm, if i'm gonna be anyone's girlfriend, i might be yours.'

'then i might be the luckiest guy in the entire world.'

you hum, his admittance made you warm. kicking your shoes off you wriggle higher unto his bed, 'sorry, no more party for me tonight. i'll get a ride home later.'

peter's busy moving closer to you in the sheets, 'you can stay here tonight.' his bed is ultra soft, you don't know how he's able to leave it in the morning. 'tempting, but i'm not in the mood to bang tonight.'

'good, neither am i.' you snort, 'really?' peter nods in your peripheral, 'it takes two to tango, trouble.'

it's calm, then he asks softly, like he's scared of you rejecting him, 'do you wanna cuddle?' your head turns, he's just as breathtaking in the moonlight.

you're already scooting back into him, 'really? don't you have a party to attend?' peter wraps his arms around you, tugging you close and tight, he wouldn't let you slip away if he could help it.

'nah, i'd rather tell you all about my aunt may.' 

[b1rds3ye]

a farah or valeria × reader perhaps? love ur writing btw ^_^

THANK YOU ANON!! Ngl I would've preferred more detail but I needed to write something for the gals ✌️

Taking What’s Mine

With the 141 being done with Valeria, she’s handed off to you and the Vaqueros to be sent to custody. You should have known better than thinking she would forget you.

Pairing: Valeria Garza x GN!Reader

Genre: Drama, Canon-Compliant, Enemies to more

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warning: Canon typical violence, yandere-ish Valeria? (Valeria's just generally a menace but better safe than sorry)

A/N: Italic sentences are meant to be characters talking in Spanish

You hop out of the driver’s seat of the black transport van to open the back door. Pulling back the door, you offer a mock bow, knowing whoever is entering is the infamous cartel leader, a rabid animal now restrained.

You barely have time to look as Alejandro all but shoves the package into the back seats. Only when you’re behind the package do you peer into the van at the poison of Las Almas. Turning around, she locks eyes with you. Your hesitation is quickly masked as you put your hands on your hips.

So this was the famed El Sin Nombre, who you now knew to have the name Valeria. She was formidable. Even sitting down, arms pulled behind her back, her attention on you had your hand instinctively covering your holster. Everywhere her eyes went was a purposeful action, picking apart every piece of the environment, every person. It settles on the space between you, Rudy and Alejandro - or the lack thereof - and you can see the gears turning in her mind. This was undoubtedly a seasoned fighter, finding potential weaknesses within a moment’s silence. Finding bonds, calculating potential damages. With no other form of retaliation, you slam the door shut, unable to see her reaction from the tinted glass.

Offering goodbyes and good luck to the rest of the 141, Alejandro and Rudolfo brief you for your next mission outside the van when your new allies leave. You’ll be personally keeping guard of Valeria for the foreseeable future until better arrangements can be made to detain someone in such high demand.

Alejandro drives, Rudolfo takes shotgun, and you’re given the unpleasant seat in the back beside the druglord. You figured the ride would be tense simply because the others had served together. Betrayal made the air heavy, it had Rudolfo dipping his head and exhaling heavily. Alejandro, ever the passionate one, was a lit fuse, jaw constantly clenched and screwing tighter with every second.

You were sure they had plenty to discuss, but what you didn’t expect - and prayed to not happen - was Valeria’s interest in you. You kept your head to the side, the back of the head is far less identifiable than the front. But you could feel it, the Nameless inspecting every aspect of you down to the pores of your skin, probably taking note of how you had forgotten to secure one of the velcro straps on your uniform. Amongst the silence of the van your swallow was audible in your ears and you swear she could hear it.

“I remember you,” Valeria states and you flinch. You can hear the smile in her voice. “I don’t remember faces often, they’re disposed of before they do anything memorable.”

You dare turn your head to look straight forward, only greeted with the back of Rudolfo's seat.

“Two months ago, southeast port, you sabotaged my shipment. You were pretending to be an independent vigilante taking matters into your own hands.”

You’re hyper aware of every process in your body. Every inhale takes a little more effort and your back is now straighter with every bump on the road unpleasantly smacking your spine. And you’re also aware that Valeria is tracking every single response, even the ones you're not conscious of, down to the hairs on your arm that now stand up straight.

“You don’t have the patch but I know a vaquero when I see one.”

Valeria turns back to the front, Rudolfo is eyeing her as Alejandro keeps driving.

“Alejandro. Dios mío, making your own a mercenary and having them do your dirty work. I thought you were better than that. I thought the Vaqueros prided themselves on cleanliness.”

“You can’t offer better,” you retort on behalf of Alejandro, to defend his honour. It came out before you could stop it but Valeria raises her eyebrows at you in amusement and you’re cursing yourself.

“I never said I could, but I don’t corrupt. Las Almas does that for me.”

Valeria shakes her head dismissively and she rests back in the seat. There’s a small smile on her face and it’s as dangerous as it is pretty. If you didn’t know any better you would think it was a smile of fondness.

“You even held me at gunpoint. Do you remember, vaquero? But then I begged and begged to return to my family and you took pity.”

There is only the sound of the van engine exerting itself through the crumbling terrain of Las Almas. You’ll no doubt end up discussing your mission once again with your colonel. Through the rear view mirror Alejandro spares a glance at you but there’s no disappointment, only understanding.

You grimace at the memory, that night at the port. It was early into your mission, the cartel weren’t even aware you were there hidden behind freight containers, save for (who you thought) was a single sicario stumbling into your little hiding spot. Even though you lost the element of surprise, you managed to bring her to her knees, gun pointed to her temple. But you did not operate like a cartel, you could not kill indiscriminately. You succumbed to those wide eyes that gazed up at you, frightfully admitting they were prey, and so upon taking all her weapons and military gear, you sent her off.

You realise now that you only shed off the sheep’s clothing and were now staring straight at the wolf. You can no longer call yourself a hero who delivered forgiveness. You mistook the shine in her eyes for tears when really it was the gleam of malice like a blade under the moonlight.

“How do you feel now, knowing that you were so close to ending El Sin Nombre but only lost from your own cowardice?”

“They have nothing to do with you.”

Alejandro’s grip on the wheel tightens until his knuckles are white. You want to speak up, to tell him it’s okay and that you can defend yourself, but you knew what Valeria wanted and you refused to give anymore.

“Oh but they do,” Valeria snaps and she regards you once again, you can see it in your peripheral vision. “You take away my profits and I will get them back."

Your square your shoulders, shifting in your seat. Your next swallow is so dry it hurts.

"See, I don’t forget fighters like you. People like you are risky for business. Like a cockroach you corrupt my supplies and never die.”

Her tone is teetering on a dangerous balance between spite and admiration. You suppose it’s not everyday someone screws up her orders and lives this long to tell the tale. Such skill and luck would be ideal to work in a cartel, you muse and just maybe you’re starting to piece her together as her unwavering gaze freezes the side of your skull. She’s already poking and prodding with her words, seeing if you can break, no, bend around this lawless nation. Las Almas can corrupt anyone, after all.

“I could make use of someone like you,” Valeria pursed her lips in contemplation. “I suppose you could say there are a few slots left open.”

Alejandro and Rudolfo had warned you of Valeria. In particular they warned you of her fire. She burned hotter than the buildings that baked under the Mexican sun. Her tongue held a venom that she inflicted liberally to anyone who dare cross her. And yet there was no aggression in her words. Her tone was deceptive all the same, but the sickly sweetness had you wondering what the hell you ever did to deserve such different treatment.

“I lost some of my best that day,” Valeria huffs like a child that lost their toy.

“My condolences,” you grumble half-heartedly as you focus on the individual fabrics of the back of the car seat. One piece of fluff is sticking out and you’re itching to pull it off, fingers twitching over your holstered pistol. “But you have the wrong person.”

But Valeria does not relent. Instead, she leans towards you, across the small middle seat that divides you and as far as her restraints will let her. Her breaths are heavy, strong enough that the tail-end of it warms your skin. Your cold sweat feels ever colder.

“Let me remind you, that I do not lose. I trade, cariño.”

“Leave them alone!” Alejandro bellows as he dares peel his eyes off the road and back at Valeria. His reaction is enough for her to pull away from you, bound wrists up in mock surrender with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“You’ll learn to accept losses,” you state, easing back into your seat in a pathetic attempt of confidence. “Solitary confinement teaches you a lot.”

“If anyone is learning anything, it will be you,” she argues. Shooting you one final look, she then switches her attention to the window, idly watching as the rugged yet beautiful terrain of Las Almas pass her by. “I’ll be out within twenty-four hours, and your precious vaqueros will be gone in half of that.”

So perhaps Valeria lied that time. She can only sigh upon running into her own men, almost mistaking them for other prison guards amongst the flashing red lights of a prison break. Months of suffering in a tiny cell that was as empty as your threats of solitary confinement, but even then the bite in your words provided her plenty of entertainment until the next time you’d pay a visit to her cell to make sure she was indeed still there.

“What the fuck took you so long?” She snarls at her own, already walking past them as they try to blurt out excuses for their tardiness. She only switches the safety of her rifle off in response and the rest of the cartel hurriedly follow her towards the exit of the prison. Stepping past fallen bodies and only narrowly avoiding the pools of blood that could dirty her boots, Las Almas cartel always knew how to make a statement. A sadistic smile settled on her face at what the Vaqueros would think of their parting gift.

Her reverie is broken by the distant call of her title and Valeria stifles a groan, stopping in her tracks.

“Is this the one?”

Valeria rolls her eyes before looking back at one of her lackeys, curses already on the tip of her tongue until she sees the little gift her subordinates prepared for her - upon her orders of course.

A man walks up to Valeria, hauling you in tow. He kicks the back of your knees, shins cracking against the cement floor. Your whole body joints at the pain, and you further jerk your bound wrists in a vain attempt to get free, but he only tugs back to contort your arms into an impossible angle.

“Fucker took out seven of us,” he spat at you, and even through the fear of being held captive you feel proud of the disdain in his voice, even as you feel the back of your head catch the offset of his saliva.

Valeria tuts as she walks up, spending a good moment with you having no choice but to look at her boots. Until her hand grips at the back of your collar like a baby animal, she yanks your uniform back to look at her as she squats down to your level.

“You are taking more of my assets,” she mutters and despite the chastising tone that coats her voice she doesn’t sound entirely disappointed. Her face is now closer to you as she inspects the blood that is dribbling down your temple.

With her other hand she wipes it away with uncharacteristic sweetness. She takes her time, as though there wasn’t a prison break and you weren’t her prison guard for the last half year. Even the dribble of her own subordinate is wiped off by her as she reaches over to the back of your head. The red lights cast shadows over her face as she looks down at you, but even through the darkness you can tell her features hold a smile only for you as her unkempt fringe falls across her face.

“Fortunately for you, that only increases your worth in my eyes, cariño.”

With no time to even question her, Valeria jerks her head as a sign for your handler to haul you back up to your feet.

“Damage the package and you will only be another ghost to The Nameless.”

You warily check the other cartel members but none of them look confused in the slightest, only nodding at the new orders. A bag over your head obscures your vision entirely and you’re shoved forward, being led to what you can only assume to be the depths of hell.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[gliphyartfan]

It’s that’s time of year again folks! Another year over and a new one beginning!

To those who stuck to my blog, thanks for STILL finding my works worth reading!

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @eternadreeblissa @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes

To those who are new to my blog, thanks for finding my works worth reading 🥰

You guys are the best and I treasure you lot greatly.

Now, as always let’s begin this final bit for the year to make way for the new year!

————

———

——

—

The dean’s office buzzed with excitement as invitations to the prestigious Martell Charity Gala were handed out to select students. (Y/n) was one of the lucky few. She stared at the sleek black and dark blue card embossed with silver lettering.

‘You are cordially invited to the annual Martell Charity Gala. This year’s theme is Midnight Elegance. Dress code: black and dark blue. Formal attire required. We hope to see you there.’

The invitation was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of. Or anything she ever expected to happen to her.

Attending the gala meant mingling with the city’s elite, and maybe even a chance to network for any future career she chose at the end of her term at the college. The dean himself had handed her the invite, his smile unusually cheerful. “You’ve been a promising student, (Y/n).” Says the man who never even spoke to her before. “ This is a rare opportunity. Represent our school well.”

She didn’t notice the brief glance he shared with an unassuming man in the corner of the office as she left the room, a subtle nod exchanged.

——

(At a certain home base.)

——

“We all know this alliance with the Martells is a powder keg. They’re unpredictable, and Emilio doesn’t trust us any more than we trust him.”

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single overhead light and the faint glow of the city skyline beyond the large windows. Around the long table each hero sat with an air of tension hanging over them.

Time sat at the head, his hands folded in front of him.

Twilight, having been the one to speak, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression grim.

“That’s an understatement,” Warriors added, sitting up straight with his hands folded in front of him. “The only reason he agreed to this ‘partnership’ is because it’s been mutually beneficial. But if he thinks we’re a threat to his control, he won’t hesitate to strike first.”

Hyrule shifted nervously, glancing between the others. “Do you think he’ll actually try something tonight? At a public event?”

“It’s possible…” Time said, his voice calm but firm. “Emilio knows this gala is the perfect stage to send a message, it’s his stage after all, to either solidify his power or undermine ours. That’s why we can’t let our guard down.”

Four, seated quietly at the table, nodded. “If he does try something, it won’t be obvious. He’ll strike in a way that keeps his hands clean while making us look weak.”

Wild smirked, his arms resting on the table. “Then we make sure he doesn’t get the chance. If things go south, I’ll have a plan to cut off his escape routes.”

“And cause a scene?” Warriors snapped, glaring at him. “We can’t afford to look reckless tonight. This Gala is well known in this city. Our reputation is at stake just as much as theirs.”

“Reputation doesn’t matter if we’re dead.” Wild shot back.

“Enough.” Time interrupted, his sharp tone silencing the room. He looked around at each of them, his gaze steady and commanding. “This isn’t the time for bickering. Emilio’s greatest weapon is chaos. We need to be united, disciplined, and ready to act. Without drawing unnecessary attention.”

His piercing gaze moved from one man to the next, ensuring he had their attention before he spoke.

“The Martell family’s gala tomorrow is an opportunity.” Time began, his voice calm but firm. “They’re gathering their allies, consolidating power, and using the pretense of charity to solidify their influence in the city. This is our chance to remind them that their reach is not absolute.”

Warriors leaned forward, his arms crossed. “And how exactly do we plan to do that without starting an all-out war in the middle of a ballroom? They’ll have security everywhere.”

“We’re not here to make a spectacle,” Twilight interjected, his tone even. “This is about sending a message. Subtle but clear.”

“Subtle’s not exactly our specialty,” Wild muttered, smirking.

“We’ll manage.” Time said bluntly, cutting off any further quips. “Legend, Four, and Hyrule have already ensured we’ll be prepared to bypass the Martells’ security measures.” He gestured toward the cane by his side. “Their metal detectors won’t detect our weapons.”

Hyrule nodded, his usually bright demeanor subdued. “The enchantments on the wood will hold, but they’re not infallible. We’ll need to act quickly if it comes to a fight.”

“What about their allies?” Legend asked, his voice sharp. “It’s not just the Martells we’re dealing with. They’ve got half the city’s scum in their pocket, and you can bet some of them will be at that party.”

“That’s why we’re keeping our eyes open,” Time replied. “This isn’t just about the Martells. It’s about understanding the full scope of their operations. Who they’re working with, what their next moves are. information is just as valuable as action.”

Sky leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed thoughtfully. “What’s the endgame here? If we make our move too soon, we risk pushing them into retaliation. And if we wait too long, they’ll see us as weak.”

“They already see us as a threat,” Warriors said. “That’s why they’re inviting us to this gala in the first place. They’re making a show of strength.”

“And we’re here to remind them that we’re not afraid.” Twilight added.

“What about (Y/n)?” Wild asked suddenly, drawing the attention of the group. “She wanted to invite us to celebrate New years with her family.” Every one was quiet at that.

“…Does she even know about any of this?”

“She doesn’t know the specifics.” Time said, his voice softening slightly. “And she won’t be involved. The last thing we need is for her to become a target when our position is being challenged.”

“Keeping her out of this might be harder than you think.” Legend muttered. “She’s observant. If she figures out what we’re up to-“

“She won’t.” Time interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ve kept her in the dark for a reason. This is not her world, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Wild exchanged a glance with Twilight, but neither said anything further.

As the conversation continued, the Chain began outlining their individual roles for the evening.

“Warriors and Twilight will be stationed near the entrances,” Time instructed. “You’ll monitor who comes and goes. Note anyone of interest and ensure no surprises.”

“Understood.” Warriors said, his expression serious.

“Sky, you’ll be mingling within the crowd with me,” Time continued. “Keep your ears open for any useful information. If anyone seems too eager to flaunt their alliances, take note. Wild will go undercover.”

Sky nodded, while Wild smirked. “I’m great at blending in.”

“Legend, and Hyrule,” Time said, turning to them. “You’ll be my backup. If things take a turn, we’ll need to act quickly and decisively.”

“And besides being with Sky, what will you do?” Warriors asked, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll handle Emilio Martell personally.” Time said. “If he thinks he can intimidate us into backing down, he’ll learn otherwise.”

The group was wrapping up their meeting when Sky frowned and gestured toward the table. “What about the alliance? Are we still trying to maintain it, or are we burning that bridge tonight?”

“The alliance is tenuous at best,” Time admitted. “If the opportunity arises to weaken their position without breaking our agreement, we take it. But if they cross the line—”

“We make sure they regret it.” Twilight finished, his tone cementing the decision.

The room fell silent as the weight of their mission settled over them. Each man understood the risks involved, but none of them wavered.

As they prepared to leave, Time glanced at them one last time. “This is a game of chess. Stay sharp, stay vigilant, and don’t make any moves you can’t defend.”

They nodded, each heading off to prepare for the night ahead. None of them realized that (Y/n)’s presence at the gala would throw their plans into chaos.

——

——

(Y/N) sat crosslegged on her bed, her laptop open to a collection of evening dresses she had been scrolling through for the past hour.

Around her, piles of her own clothes were scattered, a few dresses, skirts, and tops she had dragged out in a half hearted attempt to make something work.

Her best friends, Nic and Tess, lounged nearby, armed with snacks and opinions. Tess flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally holding it up to show a dress she thought would work, while Nic leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a skeptical look on his face.

“I don’t get why you’re even going to this thing,” Nic said, frowning. “Missing New Year’s with your family for some snobby party full of rich jerks? What’s the point?”

(Y/N) sighed, flopping back onto her bed. “The Dean basically cornered me into it. He said it’s a great opportunity for networking, and I could represent the college or something. Plus, he said the invitation was ‘special.’” She made air quotes.

Tess raised an eyebrow. “Special? Sounds suspicious.”

“I thought so too,” (Y/N) admitted, sitting up again. “But he made it sound like I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t go. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to wear when I could be at home with my family, watching movies and eating junk food.”

Nic snorted. “Yeah, sounds like a real ‘opportunity.’”

“Stop sulking, Nic.” Tess said, smirking. “If she’s going to go, we might as well make sure she looks amazing.”

(Y/N) groaned. “That’s the problem. The dress code is black and dark blue, and everything I’ve looked at is either ridiculously expensive or way too fancy for me.”

Tess tossed the magazine onto the bed and gestured to (Y/N)’s laptop. “Show me what you’ve found so far.”

(Y/N) pulled up a tab with a simple but elegant black dress, a knee length with a slight shimmer to the fabric and a modest V-neckline. “This one’s nice, but even the budget version is still kind of pricey.”

Tess nodded approvingly. “That’s actually pretty perfect. It’s simple, but with the right accessories, it’ll look classy.”

Nic squinted at the screen. “How much is it?”

(Y/N) winced. “More than I’d like to spend.”

“Ugh, fine,” Nic said, throwing his hands up. “I’ll chip in. But you owe me one.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Nic said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to let you show up to some hot shot event looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

Tess grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Okay, we need shoes. Do you have anything that would work?”

(Y/N) got up and rummaged through her closet, pulling out a pair of black heels. “These?”

“Perfect,” Tess said. “Now jewelry. Do you have anything sparkly but not over the top?”

(Y/N) nodded, grabbing a simple silver pendant necklace her grandmother had given her. “…This?”

“Oooh~” Tess said. “It’s perfect.”

Nic sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m sitting through this. I could be at home right now.”

(Y/N) laughed. “But you’re not and I love you for it Nic. I owe you big time.”

“Damn right you do.” he said, with a half hearted grumble.. “But seriously, you better make it worth it. If you’re going to miss New Year’s with your family, at least make sure you own the room.”

He paused and looked at Tess. “…and since when can you pick decent looking outfits?”

Tess cheerfully flipped him off as a response.

(Y/N) smiled, feeling a little less anxious about the event. “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Tess waved a hand dismissively. “Just remember us little people when you’re flattering the rich boys.”

“Not likely.” (Y/N) said, grinning. “But I’ll try to survive the night without embarrassing myself.”

———

—-

——-

The ballroom was a sight of elegance.

Dark blue and black draped the high ceilings, lit by soft, golden chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the polished floors.

Guests were trickling in, dressed in sleek gowns and sharp suits, as waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. The Martells, as always, spared no expense for their events.

The Chain arrived early, sharply dressed in tailored suits. Time, standing tall with his cane, led the group into the room. His expression was calm, blank, almost cold, but beneath the surface, his mind was cataloging every detail his eye took in.

Warriors adjusted the cufflinks on his dark blue suit, his eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. “The decorations scream ‘power play,’ but the crowd isn’t just Martells and their allies. Look, some of their enemies are here too.”

“Which are also OUR enemies.”

“Enemy of my enemy and all that?”

“ They’ve got a mixed hand tonight.”

“Not good” Twilight said, his voice low. “But the more we know, the better.”

Sky walked close to Time. “I’ll keep an eye on the exits. If anything goes wrong, we’ll need a way out.”

“Wild,” Time said, glancing at him. “Mask up. We need you moving unseen.”

Wild nodded, slipping on the Stone Mask Time gave him. As soon as it settled on his face, Wild’s presence seemed to fade, even from his companions.

“Make a circuit around the room.” Time instructed. “Mark the exits, entrances, and anything unusual. Report back as soon as you have something.”

Without a word and two taps on Time’s shoulder, Wild slipped into the crowd, moving unnoticed even as he brushed past guests and waiters..

That was the cue for fhe Chain to subtl spread out, the tension between them was palpable. Hyrule stayed near the refreshments table, pretending to enjoy a drink as he scanned for any signs of trouble.

Warriors lingered near the dance floor, his sharp eyes watching the movements of the waitstaff and Martell associates.

Twilight leaned against a pillar near one of the exits, his stance relaxed but his senses sharp. “I don’t like this…” he muttered into the comms.

“No one does.” Time responded coolly. He stood near the center of the room, his cane in hand, glass of champagne in another, looking every bit like a guest enjoying the event and he smiled at Legend while they pretended to have a normal chat. “Focus. Stay sharp.”

Minutes passed, and then Wild’s voice crackled through their earpieces. “…We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?” Warriors asked immediately.

Wild’s tone was unusually tense. “She’s here.”

There was a pause before Time’s measured voice cut through. “Who?”

“(Y/N).” Wild said, his voice more anxious this time. “She’s at the event.”

The Chain froze. The air seemed to thicken as the weight of Wild’s words sank in.

“What?” Twilight said sharply, his calm demeanor cracking.

“Are you sure?” Sky asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

Wild confirmed, “Positive. She’s here, and… she looks like a guest, not someone who wandered in. This isn’t an accident.”

Sky clenched his fists, trying to stay calm, but his attention shifted sharply as he spotted movement across the room. His eyes widening slightly when he saw a tall, dark-haired man in a perfectly tailored black suit approach (Y/N).

“It gets worse..” Sky muttered into the comms. “She’s being approached by Emilio Martell.”

The Chain’s tension snapped into a razor sharp focus.

———

—

———

(Y/N) stood near a small group of guests, nursing a flute of sparkling water as she tried to blend in. Her dress fit the event’s theme perfectly, but she still felt out of place. She glanced around, scanning the faces of the room, trying to distract herself from the dull ache of missing her family on New Year’s Eve.

“Miss (Y/N)..” came a smooth voice behind her.

She turned, startled to see a tall man with a confident smile and piercing green eyes. His presence was…attention grabbing, the kind of aura that drew you in whether you wanted it or not.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” he said, extending a hand. “Emilio Martell. Organizer of this years event. A pleasure to meet you.”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. “(Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

“You must be a guest of honor,” Emilio said, his tone laced with charm. “You stand out in a room full of people trying very hard not to.”

(Y/N) gave a polite smile, unsure how to respond. “I’m.. actually here on behalf of my college. My Dean thought it would be a good opportunity. I’m surprised you know my name.”

Emilio’s smile widened. “A wise choice on his part. And I make it a point to know the names of my guests. Your presence certainly elevates the room.”

—-

——

Sky’s hands balled into fists as he watched Emilio speak to (Y/N). His posture stiffened, and his normally calm demeanor wavered. “We need to get her out of there,” he muttered.

“No sudden moves, Sky stand down.” Time said firmly. “We can’t tip our hand.”

“She doesn’t know who Emilio is.” Warriors said, his voice strained. “She doesn’t know she’s walking into a lion’s den. Who invited her here?”

“I aim to find out.” Legend growled under his breath as he tapped away at his phone, Wind and Four on the other line, watching though the cameras.

Twilight growled, his frustration barely contained. “We need a plan. Now.”

“We can’t draw attention.” Time said. His voice remained calm, but there was a cold edge to it. “Wild, stay on her. Legend, find a way to get closer without causing a scene. Everyone else, maintain your positions.”

The Chain knew they were on borrowed time. The stakes had just risen, and they couldn’t afford to make a single misstep, not when (Y/N) was now caught in the middle of this.

——

——

Emilio Martell’s charming smile never wavered as he continued speaking to (Y/N), his body language relaxed and confident. He was fully aware of the eyes on him. But it was no matter. Emilio thrived on this kind of tension, playing the predator circling his prey.

“You’ve been making an an excellent impression tonight.” he said to (Y/N), his voice low and smooth. “I’m sure your college will appreciate the effort. And what about you? Are you enjoying yourself?”

(Y/N) hesitated, glancing at the luxurious surroundings. She was still a little on edge, but Emilio’s casual attitude eemed to ease her nerves. “It’s a beautiful event…” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “A bit overwhelming, but… yes, I think I am.”

Emilio nodded, his smile widening. “I’m glad. It’s always a pleasure to meet someone with a genuine appreciation for the finer things.” He gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you something? A champagne? Perhaps something stronger?”

“No, thank you.” (Y/N) said politely. “I’m fine with sparkling water.”

“Ah, a woman of discipline,” Emilio said, his tone approving. “I respect that.”

From his position near one of the exits, Sky watched the interaction with barely contained anger. Emilio’s posture and expression were deceptively polite, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of smugness, as though he were mocking them with every word.

“Emilio knows,” Sky said into his comm, his tone tight. “He’s playing her to get at us. This isn’t a coincidence.”

“No,” Time responded coldly, his gaze locked on Emilio from across the room. “This is deliberate. He wanted us here, and now he’s using her as leverage.”

“Then why isn’t he doing anything yet?” Twilight asked. He was stationed at a nearby pillar, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of Emilio’s associates.

“He’s baiting us,” Warriors said grimly. “Waiting for us to make the first move so he can claim innocence.”

“What’s the plan?” Wild’s voice came through, calm but edged with tension. He had taken a position near the shadows of the room, his presence still cloaked by the Stone Mask.

“Hold positions.” Time ordered. “We can’t act without exposing her connection to us. Sky, stay close but out of sight. Legend keep your bracelet at the ready, Wild, keep circling. Look for anything out of place.”

“And if he tries something?” Hyrule asked, his voice quiet but determined.

“He won’t get the chance.” Time replied calmly.

As (Y/N) tried to navigate the conversation, she felt the weight of Emilio’s attention growing heavier. He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to something more intimate.

“You have an air about you,” Emilio said. “Something unique. People like you don’t go unnoticed in a place like this.”

(Y/N) offered a polite smile, her discomfort starting to creep back in. “I’m just here to represent my college. Nothing special.”

Emilio chuckled softly. “Don’t sell yourself short. A sharp mind and a beautiful face, those are rare qualities. But I imagine you already know that. Perhaps there is a position in one of my businesses that could use someone like you..”

Before (Y/N) could respond, another voice cut through the moment.

“Ah, Martell. Already charming the guests, I see.”

Time’s smooth, even tone drew Emilio’s attention. The older man approached with a casual gait, his cane tapping lightly against the polished floor. His expression was perfectly neutral, betraying nothing of the storm beneath.

Emilio straightened, his smile unfaltering. “And here I thought you were too busy inspecting the decor to join us, Signore Time.”

Time’s lips twitched in the faintest semblance of a polite smile. “One should always make time for old acquaintances.” His sharp eye flickered to (Y/N), and he added, “And new ones.”

(Y/N) brightened slightly at his familiar presence. “Time! I didn’t know you were here.”

“I couldn’t miss such a prestigious event, especially one I was invited to.” Time replied smoothly, his gaze briefly lingering on her before returning to Emilio. “And it seems you’ve already made an impression.”

Emilio’s smile tightened, just a fraction. “Your reputation precedes you, Signore Time. Always a man of observation.”

Time inclined his head, his grip tightening slightly on his cane. “And you’ve always been a man of theatrics. How… fitting.”

The subtle tension between the two men was palpable, though (Y/N) seemed blissfully unaware of the undercurrents. Distracted with the relief of someone familiar at the event with her.

Emilio continued, Wild’s voice came through the comms again.

“Martell’s got people,” he said quietly. “Two by the north exit, one near the bar. They’re watching Emilio closely.”

“Armed?” Warriors asked.

“Likely,” Wild confirmed. “And they’re not alone. There’s movement on the buildings across from this place, looks like snipers.”

Four’s voice came through the comms, cold. “Keep marking positions. We’re not moving until we know the full picture.”

—-

Emilio took a step closer to Time, his smile still intact but his eyes hardening. “This city is a place for opportunity, don’t you think? A place where alliances can thrive… or falter.”

Time didn’t react, his tone even. “Opportunity, like respect, is earned. Not bought with cheap theatrics.”

Emilio chuckled, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “And yet, it seems even you can’t resist a good show.”

Time met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “Let’s hope your finale doesn’t disappoint.”

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, but both men maintained their masks of civility.

As Emilio turned back to (Y/N), his charming smile returning, Sky took the chance to step closer, his presence calm but deliberate.

“Excuse me.” Sky said smoothly, his voice gentle but firm. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

(Y/N) turned, surprised but relieved to see him. “Sky! You’re here too?”

“I’m someone’s plus one tonight.” Sky replied, his gaze briefly flicking to Emilio before returning to (Y/N). “Would you mind if I borrowed you for a moment? I’d like to catch up if that’s alright with you Mr. martell?”

Emilio’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to monopolize her time.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Sure, Sky.”

Sky offered her his arm, and she took it, allowing him to gently guide her away. As they moved, Wind’s voice came through the comms.

“She’s safe for now, Sky has her.” he said. “But Emilio’s watching her closely. We need to wrap this up before he makes his move.”

——-

——-

Emilio watched as Sky led (Y/N) away, his smile lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Time. The man before him was an enigma, always calm, always composed, and always a step ahead. Emilio had played these games with powerful men before, but there was something about “Signore Time” that unsettled him.

“Your associate seems quite protective,” Emilio remarked, his tone casual but his words carefully chosen.

Time’s one visible eye remained fixed on him, cold and calculating. “My associates are loyal. Loyalty is the foundation of any successful… endeavor, don’t you agree?”

Emilio’s smile tightened. “Of course. Loyalty, after all, is the currency of trust. But trust can be so fleeting, can’t it? Especially in our line of work.”

“Only for those who don’t know its value,” Time replied smoothly. He leaned lightly on his cane, the movement calculated to appear as a casual gesture. “Those who gamble with loyalty often find themselves alone when the stakes are highest.”

Emilio chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Ah, but gambling can be so exhilarating, can’t it? The thrill of the unknown, the rush of risk… It’s what keeps us all moving forward.”

“Some might say it’s a fool’s game,” Time countered. “A fleeting pleasure for those who mistake recklessness for strength.”

Emilio tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “And yet, even the most calculated plans can crumble under the weight of a single misstep. Tell me, Signore Time, do you ever wonder if your own calculations might one day fail you?”

Time’s lips curved into the faintest semblance of a smile. “I’ve learned to anticipate missteps. To anticipate possibilities of past, present and future. It’s why I’m still standing.” He paused, his tone lowering slightly. “But the same can’t be said for everyone, can it…Emilio?”

The subtle use of Emilio’s first name was not lost on the younger man, whose smile faltered ever so slightly before he quickly recovered. “Touché. You’ve always been… thorough. But thoroughness has its price. It must get exhausting, always watching, always waiting.”

“Not as exhausting as underestimating an opponent.” Time said, his tone icy. He tapped his cane lightly against the floor, the sound barely audible over the soft murmur of the gala. “Tell me, Emilio, do you ever wonder if your own gambles will come back to haunt you? Or do you prefer to ignore the debts you’ve accrued?”

Emilio’s smile grew sharper, his eyes narrowing. “Debts, Signore Time, are a necessary part of the game. It’s how you leverage them that determines your success. But then again, you’ve never been one to play by conventional rules, have you?”

“I’ve found conventional rules to be limiting. ” Time replied. “And fragile.” He stepped forward slightly, just enough to subtly impose his presence. “Unlike the alliances I forge, which are built to last.”

Emilio laughed lightly, though there was a tension in his posture now. “Well, I suppose that’s what sets you apart. A man of… permanence in a world that changes so quickly. It’s admirable, really.”

“Admiration is a fleeting thing,” Time said, his gaze unwavering. “I prefer respect. It holds more weight.”

Emilio held his gaze for a long moment, his smile thinning. “You’ve always been good at commanding respect, Signore Time. But I wonder… how long can one man hold the weight of it all before he crumbles?”

Time didn’t blink. His voice was calm, deliberate, and unyielding. “A man who stands alone might crumble. But a man who stands with those who are loyal to him? He becomes unshakable.”

The two men stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Emilio’s smile remained, but his eyes betrayed the simmering frustration beneath the surface. Time, as always, was unmovable, his presence as solid and enduring as the name he had chosen for himself.

“Enjoy the evening, Signore Time,” Emilio said finally, his tone polite but edged with malice.

“I always do.” Time replied, his voice even. “And I trust you will as well. After all, tonight’s… festivities are just getting started.”

As Emilio turned and walked away, Time remained still, his grip on his cane tightening ever so slightly. The game had begun, and Time was already five moves ahead.

——

——

The gala was in full swing. Guests floated across the polished marble floor, their laughter and conversation a background to the string quartet playing softly in the corner. Yet, for those who knew the true purpose of the evening, the atmosphere was a mask stretched thin, ready to snap at the slightest poke.

Amidst the glittering gowns and tailored suits, the Chain moved like shadows. Twilight and Warriors blended seamlessly into the crowd, their sharp eyes scanning the room for potential threats. Hyrule lingered near a grand pillar, subtly marking the entrances and exits, while Wild, cloaked in the anonymity granted by his Stone Mask, wove unnoticed through the clusters of guests.

Through the comms, Wind’s voice cut through the quiet hum of tension. “Why do they get to hang out with her? I’m stuck doing recon! It’s not fair!”

“Wind,” Warriors replied curtly, his voice low and commanding, “focus on your task. She’s safer this way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wind muttered, clearly pouting. “Still sucks.”

Wild, unseen and unnoticed, chuckled softly through his channel. “Keep your eyes open, kid. We’ll make it up to you later.”

“Wild,” Time’s calm voice interrupted, laced with authority, “report.”

Wild’s tone shifted immediately. “Martell is making his rounds, but nothing actionable yet. I’ll keep tracking him.”

Time’s gaze flicked briefly toward the far end of the room, where Emilio Martell moved among the guests with practiced ease, his smile as polished as the cut crystal glasses in their hands. But his focus didn’t linger. He turned back to (Y/N), who stood beside him and Sky, her expression bright with a mix of curiosity and unease.

Time allowed himself a brief moment to savor her presence. Her dark blue dress, simple yet stunning, caught the light just enough to draw the eye without overwhelming, the intricate stitching along the hem whispering of elegance on a budget. Her (h/c) hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of sincerity that felt rare in a room filled with veiled intentions.

Sky leaned closer to her, his warm smile disarming. “You look incredible tonight, (Y/N). It’s no wonder you caught everyone’s attention.”

She blushed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, but I feel a little out of place here. Everyone seems so… important.”

“You belong here as much as anyone.” Time assured her, his voice steady and grounding.

Her lips curved into a small smile, though doubt still lingered in her eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the Dean. It’s strange that he thought I’d fit in at something like this.”

Sky’s expression remained relaxed, though a flicker of unease passed between him and Time. “You’re more important than you realize.” Sky said softly, his words layered with a meaning she didn’t catch.

In the distance, Hyrule’s voice crackled softly through the comms. “Martell’s stopping near the auction stage. He’s speaking to someone, looks like one of the heads of the merchant syndicate.”

Twilight’s voice followed, low and steady. “No sudden moves. We’re not here to start anything unless it’s unavoidable.”

“Unavoidable might come faster than we think,” Warriors murmured. “Keep eyes on the entrances. If Martell’s expecting trouble, he’ll have a backup plan.”

Meanwhile, (Y/N) shifted slightly, her attention caught by a glittering chandelier overhead. “This place is incredible,” she said, her voice full of genuine awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Sky chuckled. “It does have a certain charm, doesn’t it?”

Time’s gaze remained fixed on her, his usual stoicism softening ever so slightly. “You have an eye for beauty.” he remarked.

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I think it’s just the novelty. I’m not used to this kind of… luxury.”

Through the comms, Wind groaned dramatically. “She’s so adorable, and I’m missing it! This is the worst.”

“Focus, Wind,” Warriors snapped.

“Fine.” Wind muttered, his voice laced with defeat.

Wild’s report cut through the moment. “Martell’s moving again. Heading toward the upper balcony.”

“Good,” Time said quietly. “Everyone, stay in position. Sky and I will keep her occupied. Wild, follow Martell but keep your distance.”

“Understood,” Wild replied, already moving.

As the Chain’s unseen web tightened around the room, Sky leaned closer to (Y/N), his voice low and playful. “So, what’s the verdict? Are you enjoying the party?”

She smiled up at him, her earlier unease momentarily forgotten. “Honestly, I think I’m more nervous than anything. But it’s… nice.”

Time’s hand rested lightly on the head of his cane, his ever watchful eye scanning the room even as he spoke. “As long as you’re with us, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Though she didn’t fully understand the depth of his words, (Y/N) found comfort in them, unaware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

——

Far away from the Gala, something odd began to happe.

The Chain’s main property had a vault hidden deep within its estate, a place no one besides the nine visited. This room held everything they had managed to hold on to from Hyrule: old weapons, tools, trinkets, and treasures with enough magic to make anyone in the modern world go pale. The storage was locked tight, enchanted by Hyrule, Legend, and Time to ensure no one but the Chain could enter.

The room was dim, the only light coming from faintly glowing runes etched into the walls and the edges of shelves. Everything in here had a history, everything had a use but tonight, one item decided to stir.

A small, nondescript pouch sat on a table, forgotten among the more dramatic relics. It didn’t look like much-just a plain, worn bag. But it twitched, the fabric shifting like it had something alive inside.

Then, the drawstring loosened on its own, and out rolled a small wooden carving. The figure landed lightly on the table, lying still for a moment before its smooth, carved head tilted slightly, as though waking up.

The carving was unmistakable: it was (Y/N), dressed in a blue tunic and trousers like a proper Hylian adventurer. The details were shockingly accurate, down to the tiny curls of her hair and the soft expression on her face.

The doll’s eyes glowed faintly, their light cutting through the dark room. Then came the sound, soft at first, like a faint giggle, playful and almost childlike.

It echoed, but it did not sound malicious. The doll twitched, its tiny arms shifting slightly as if it was trying to stretch. And then, a voice filled the room.

“Warmth…” the voice murmured, the word reverberating through the storage like a ripple in still water. “Home. Heart. Warmth is here.”

A translucent mist began to seep out of the doll, curling like smoke but with a faint glow that pulsed like a heartbeat. The mist swirled and rose, twisting as it moved toward the ceiling.

The voice spoke again, louder now, with a strange resonance that filled the room. “Warmth is near…will find it.”

The mist lingered for a moment, swirling around the wooden carving before shooting upward, slipping through the cracks of the ceiling and disappearing entirely. It moved with purpose, drawn by an invisible force.

the undeniable presence of its Warmth, its Home, its Heart.

Somewhere, far from the location, (Y/N) remained blissfully unaware of the being seeking her out, as it moved with desire to be ever closer to its source of warmth.

——

The Gala buzzed around them, a hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and soft music filling the air. But (Y/N) barely noticed any of it as she leaned slightly toward Sky and Time, the tension in her shoulders melting just a little.

“I’m just saying,” (Y/N) grumbled, crossing her arms, “the Dean could’ve picked literally anyone else. I don’t even know why he thought I’d be a good fit for this.” She sighed, glancing at her nearly untouched glass of champagne. “I should be home right now, watching cheesy countdown specials with my family and eating way too many snacks. Not… whatever this is.”

Sky smiled at her, a little softer than usual. “Maybe he just thought you’d represent the school well,” he offered, though there was an edge to his voice, like he didn’t buy it either.

“Doubt it,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “This is the same guy who got my name wrong at orientation. Twice. And now I’m here, dressed like someone I’m not, trying to smile at people who probably don’t even care if I’m alive.”

Time didn’t say much, but his presence was steady. He tilted his head slightly, letting her vent without interruption, his good eye focused on her like she was the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

Suddenly, Four’s voice came through the comms in their ears, low but clear. “I’m already looking into the Dean.” he said. “No way this is just a coincidence.”

Sky and Time didn’t react outwardly, but they exchanged a quick glance.

“What’ve you got so far?” Time asked, his voice barely above a murmur as he turned his attention back to (Y/N), who was fiddling with her glass and muttering something about how dumb gala food was.

“Not much yet,” Four replied. “But the timing’s too perfect. The Martells pull this stunt, and she just happens to be invited? Nah, there’s more to it. I’ll keep digging.”

Sky nodded subtly, keeping his expression neutral for (Y/N)’s sake. “Keep us updated,” he said under his breath, before giving her a reassuring smile. “At least you look good.” he added lightly, hoping to cheer her up.

(Y/N) groaned, half-amused. “Yeah, well, this dress cost me an entire paycheck, and a debt to Nic, so I’d better.” She glanced down at the elegant-but simple-dark blue gown she’d managed to snag last-minute. “I still feel out of place.”

“You’re not,” Time said quietly, his voice carrying that calm authority that made it impossible to argue. “You belong here with us.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, a little thrown by his certainty, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. “If you say so…” she mumbled, though her lips quirked into a faint smile.

Meanwhile, through the comms, Wind’s voice piped up, loud and eager. “Are we done keeping out of sight yet? I wanna hang out with her too!”

Sky sighed, keeping his voice low. “Patience, kid. She’s in a good mood. Let’s not ruin it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Wind huffed. “I’m stuck back here like some kind of stalker.”

“Wind,” Four said flatly, “you are a stalker right now. Stay put.”

The Chain kept their focus tight, even as (Y/N) relaxed more, her complaints slowing. But the underlying tension in the room wasn’t lost on them.

The music eventually slowed, and the crowd’s murmurs hushed as Emilio stepped onto the stage. His smile was wide, charming, but there was something in his eyes that set every nerve in the Chain on edge. A single hand gesture brought the room’s attention to him like he was the star of the show.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Emilio began smoothly, holding a glass of champagne like he was about to propose a toast. “I want to thank you all for joining us tonight as we welcome a new year. A year full of opportunities, partnerships, and, of course… resolutions.”

The crowd chuckled politely. Time’s jaw tightened, his cane resting just slightly closer to his side.

Emilio’s smile sharpened, though his tone stayed light. “Now, as we move forward, let’s all remember: respect is key. Whether in business or… personal matters.” He let the words hang in the air for a beat too long. “After all, no empire, no matter how storied, lasts without mutual understanding.”

Sky stiffened beside (Y/N), his hand brushing against her back as if by accident. Time said nothing, his face unreadable, but (Y/N) noticed his grip tighten slightly on the cane.

Emilio raised his glass higher. “To a prosperous new year-for all of us.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clinking of glasses filling the room as the lights suddenly flickered and cut out, plunging the venue into darkness. Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire.

“Stay close.” Time muttered, grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist with enough firmness to leave no room for argument.

“What’s happening?” she whispered, but before either of them could answer, Wild’s voice crackled through their comms.

“They’re moving in.” Wild said, his voice clipped and urgent. “Emilio’s men are storming the place. They’re heading straight for you, Time. You’ve got maybe thirty seconds.”

Sky was already moving, grabbing (Y/N) by the arm and guiding her with Time through the chaos of startled partygoers. His voice was low, but firm. “Keep your head down and follow us.”

(Y/N)’s heart raced, her breath catching as the noise around them grew louder-panicked whispers, the shuffling of feet, and something heavier, more deliberate in the distance. “What’s going on?” she hissed.

“Not now.” Time said sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

Sky’s grip tightened as he scanned the room, their path lit only by the faint glow of emergency lights near the exits. “Wild, where are they now?”

“Closing in fast. Four’s trying to block the north wing, but there’s too many.”

“Twilight?” Time asked, guiding (Y/N) through the crowd with precise movements.

“Already clearing the way out,” Twilight answered. “Just get her to safety.”

(Y/N)’s mind raced as she tried to piece together what was happening, but the sheer force of Time and Sky’s urgency kept her quiet.

—-

The crowd grew more frantic, murmurs turning into shouts as Emilio’s men pushed through, barking orders for people to move aside. The air was thick with tension, and (Y/N) could feel it like a weight pressing down on her chest. Time and Sky moved quickly, keeping her between them as Four’s voice came through the comms.

“Keep moving south. Wind and I cleared a path through the kitchens. Get her there now.”

“Understood.” Time muttered, his grip steady on (Y/N)’s arm.

The three weaved through the growing chaos, Emilio’s men shoving partygoers out of the way as they advanced. A few of the guests started screaming, the reality of the situation hitting them like a brick. Sky stepped up his pace, his hand briefly brushing (Y/N)’s back to guide her faster.

“Almost there,” Sky said lowly, his eyes darting to every shadow.

(Y/N) stumbled slightly, catching her balance before glaring at him. “What the hell is going on? Who are these guys?”

“Not now.” Time said again, his voice firm but not unkind.

“Of course not now,” she muttered. “It’s always ‘not now.’”

They slipped into the kitchens, the bright lights and sterile metal surfaces a stark contrast to the dim chaos outside. Wind was waiting near the door, waving them over impatiently.

“Took you long enough.” he said, shutting the door behind them and locking it. “This place is going to hell out there.”

“Thanks for the update,” Sky said dryly, turning to (Y/N). “Sorry about all this. You weren’t supposed to-”

“To what?” (Y/N) cut him off, throwing her hands in the air. “Get dragged into some shady mafia nonsense on New Year’s Eve? Yeah, I kinda figured this would happen the second Time decided to show up.” She crossed her arms, her glare switching to Time.

“I should’ve stayed home, eaten my weight in cookies, and fallen into a food coma watching bad movies.” She huffed. “But no, this had to happen because you, Mr. Mysterious Mafia Boss, decided to ruin my night.”

Sky stiffened, unsure how to respond, but Time-of all people-just smiled. It was sheepish but amused, like he wasn’t even going to try denying it.

“That’s fair.” Time said, his tone lighter than she expected.

(Y/N) blinked, caught off guard by his reaction. She stared at him, then threw up her hands again. “Okay, good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Does that mean you’ll forgive me?” Time asked, his tone teasing but sincere.

She narrowed her eyes. “Only if I make it out of this alive-and you owe me big time.”

Time chuckled softly, his one good eye crinkling with amusement. “Deal.”

“Uh, not to interrupt,” Wind said, gesturing to the door, “but we’ve got bigger problems heading this way. Might want to save the banter for later.”

Time nodded, his expression sobering instantly. “Wild, status?”

“Still busy,” Wild answered over the comms. “But Emilio’s men are splitting up. They know you’re not in the main hall anymore.”

“Perfect.” Sky muttered, checking his surroundings.

Time turned back to (Y/N), his voice softer this time. “Stay close. No matter what happens, we’ll get you out of here.”

(Y/N) sighed, her irritation giving way to nervousness as she nodded. “You better.”

“Don’t worry,” Sky added with a small smile. “We’ve got this.”

“Less talking, more moving!” Wind urged, leading them toward the far side of the kitchens. The faint sounds of heavy boots grew louder, and the group picked up their pace, hearts pounding in sync with the chaos outside.

—-

—-

In the middle of the chaos, Warriors, Hyrule, and Twilight were like shadows slipping through the edges of the fray. Armed with their enchanted wooden weapons, they moved quickly and silently. The daggers and short swords, deceptively simple-looking, cut through Emilio’s men without a hint of hesitation.

“Stay quiet, stay fast,” Warriors muttered to Hyrule as he ducked low, slashing the back of a man’s legs before delivering a swift finishing blow. “We can’t let them regroup.”

“On it,” Hyrule replied, his dagger already sinking into another opponent’s side. His movements were light and precise, almost like he was dancing around the chaos.

Twilight moved alongside them, his short sword cutting a clean arc through the air. “These guys are persistent,” he said through gritted teeth, ducking a swing and jabbing his blade into a man’s chest.

“Yeah, well, they don’t know who they’re messing with,” Warriors shot back, deflecting a strike and kicking his attacker hard enough to send him sprawling.

Meanwhile, Legend was a blur of motion, merging into the walls like a ghost thanks to his bracelet. Every time Emilio’s men thought they had him cornered, he’d reappear behind them, striking with brutal efficiency before fading back into the stone.

“Gotta admit,” Legend muttered under his breath, stepping out of a wall to grab a man’s throat before slamming him to the ground, “this is kinda fun.” He disappeared again, only his faint laughter trailing behind as more of Emilio’s men fell.

Overhead, Wild perched in the shadows of a balcony, his bow drawn tight. He had his eyes on Emilio, watching as the man barked orders and rallied his remaining allies.

“Emilio’s sticking close to the west hall,” Wild said through the comms, notching an arrow tipped with a makeshift wooden head. “But he’s got a lot of backup.”

“Keep him pinned,” Time ordered back. “We’re handling things on this end.”

“Got it,” Wild replied, taking aim at a particularly loud ally of Emilio’s. He let the arrow fly, grinning when it hit its mark right between the man’s shoulders. The target dropped with a grunt, and Wild ducked lower, quickly nocking another arrow.

Another group of Emilio’s men was rushing toward the kitchens, and Wild couldn’t let them get too close. He took another shot, this time hitting a man in the leg, sending him sprawling and causing the group to scatter.

“They’re slowing down,” Wild said into the comms. “But Emilio’s not backing off. He’s sending more men your way.”

“We’ll handle it,” Warriors replied, his voice sharp as he slashed through another attacker. “Just keep him busy.”

“Don’t worry,” Wild said, a smirk in his voice. “I’ve got it covered.”

The Chain worked seamlessly, their movements efficient and purposeful, each strike calculated to thin the enemy ranks. Even in the chaos, they were perfectly in sync, and while Emilio’s men were persistent, they were no match for the skill and coordination of Hyrule’s finest.

In the middle of it all, Time’s calm voice cut through the comms. “No mistakes. Stay sharp. We’re not leaving until she’s safe.”

“Roger that,” Legend muttered, slipping back into the walls to finish off another target. The Chain pressed on, their only objective was making sure (y/n) was safe from this place.

The dimly lit kitchen was eerily quiet for a moment, the sounds of shouting and chaos muffled behind the thick walls. Sky and Wind stood near the doors, their weapons ready, while Time kept his cane in hand, standing protectively in front of (y/n).

“Stay close.” Time instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Before (y/n) could even nod, the door to the kitchen slammed open, and Emilio’s men poured in. Time moved without hesitation, swinging his cane with surprising force. The enchanted wood slammed into the first man’s chest, sending him sprawling into the counter.

Sky stepped forward, his sword cutting through the air with a clean precision that sent two more men staggering back. “Keep moving!” he shouted, his gaze darting to Wind.

Wind grinned, brandishing his dagger as he dashed forward, darting between two attackers and tripping one with a swift kick before driving his blade into the other’s arm. “Not so tough now, are ya?”

As the fight raged, another man appeared from the shadows, moving silently toward Time. The older man was focused on the two men in front of him, his cane spinning in fluid, powerful arcs.

The figure behind him raised a knife, his steps quiet…too quiet. Time didn’t notice.

But (y/n) did.

“Time!” she shouted, her voice shaking as adrenaline kicked in. Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest heavy object, a large iron pot from the stove, and rushed forward.

The man didn’t even have time to turn before (y/n) brought the pot down with all her strength.

CLANG!

The sound echoed through the kitchen as the man crumpled to the ground, the knife slipping from his hand. (y/n) stood there, panting and wide-eyed, the pot still gripped tightly in her hands.

Time turned, his visible eye widening briefly as he took in the scene. The would-be attacker lay unconscious at his feet, and behind him stood (y/n), looking more shocked than he’d ever seen her.

“Nice one!” Wind called out, laughing as he deflected another strike.

“Not bad, (y/n).” Sky said with a faint grin, his sword taking down another attacker.

Time stepped closer to her, his expression softening just slightly as he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You alright?”

“Uh… yeah,” she breathed out, still clutching the pot like a lifeline. “I think so.”

“Good,” Time said with a small, amused smile. “You might want to put the pot down, though.”

(y/n) blinked, glancing at the pot in her hands before letting it clatter to the floor. She exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing.

“I knew hanging around you would lead to something like this,” she muttered, glancing up at Time. “You owe me for ruining my night.”

“That’s fair.” Time said, his tone light as he turned back to the chaos, his cane swinging again.

But as another wave of men stormed in, (y/n) couldn’t help but glance at the pot again.

Maybe she wasn’t entirely done with it just yet.

——

——

The night air outside the gala was tense, Emilio stomping toward a black car parked at the curb with his men in tow. His face was twisted with anger, and his voice boomed over the chaos still brewing inside.

“Find them! Take them out! How the hell are they winning?!” he snarled, jabbing a finger in the direction of the building. “They’re a small group! They shouldn’t even be a threat!”

His men nodded, scattering to follow his orders as Emilio climbed into the car. In his hand, he held a small, sleek switch, his thumb hovering over the button. A grim smile spread across his face as he stared back at the building.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to speak more with that girl,” he muttered, almost to himself, though the venom in his tone remained. “But that’s how it goes. And as for Time-that fool! His death will be an example to everyone of what happens when you cross me.”

With that, Emilio pressed the button.

He stared at the building, waiting for the fireworks, for the grand finale that would erase all evidence of the Chain and everyone else inside.

Nothing happened.

Emilio frowned, pressing the button again. Still nothing.

He leaned forward in his seat, pressing it a third time, then a fourth, his frustration mounting with each click. “What the hell is going on?” he snapped, slamming the switch down on the seat beside him.

One of his men leaned into the car. “Sir?”

“WHERE are the explosives?! WHY isn’t this working?!” Emilio barked, grabbing the man by his jacket.

Before the man could respond, another voice called out from the crowd. “Boss! We’ve got a problem!”

Emilio shoved his current victim aside, stepping out of the car. “What now?”

The man hesitated, clearly nervous, but eventually spoke up. “Several of our bases… they’ve just exploded. Reports are coming in one after another, everything’s gone!”

For a moment, Emilio froze, the weight of the words sinking in. Then it clicked.

His face darkened, a snarl curling on his lips. “Time. That bastard knew. He knew what I was planning!”

He turned, glaring in the direction of the building, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. It all made sense now-the calm demeanor, the subtle arrogance. Time had been playing him the entire night, and he’d walked right into it.

Emilio’s glare could’ve set the building on fire if it hadn’t already been rigged to blow. “Get me out of here,” he growled, voice low and seething.

“But sir, what about—”

“I SAID GET ME OUT OF HERE!” he roared, cutting his man off.

With that, Emilio climbed back into the car, slamming the door behind him. As the vehicle sped away from the scene, he stared out the window, his mind racing with a mix of fury and humiliation.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

——

——

The group finally burst out into the cool night air, (y/n) panting from the running (never good with heels). They stumbled past the remnants of the chaos, adrenaline pumping as the sound of distant shouting faded behind them. Several sleek black cars, headlights cutting through the dark, pulled up in front of them.

Four leaned out the driver’s side window of the lead car, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as ever. “Get in. Now.”

Behind his car, other vehicles packed with their men pulled up, forming a protective barrier between them and the building.

Without hesitation, Time opened the back door and ushered (y/n) in first, followed by Wind and Sky. He slid in last, pulling the door shut behind him. Four hit the gas, and the car sped off, the others falling into formation behind them.

(y/n) leaned her head back against the seat, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, her arms still trembling. “Oh, come on!” she finally burst out, her voice cracking with exhaustion and frustration. “Of course Emilio’s mafia! Of course nothing in this stupid city is normal!”

Sky, seated next to her, glanced over with a small, understanding smile. He reached out and gently placed his hand on hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His calm voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. “Hey, you’re safe now. That’s what matters. Just breathe. You did great back there.”

Her breathing slowed as his words settled over her, her grip on the pot starting to loosen-until Sky tilted his head slightly and added, “Though… you’re still holding onto the iron pot.”

(y/n) blinked, looking down at the pot like she’d forgotten it was there. Her shoulders sagged as she stared at it for a long moment. Then, in a flat, deadpan voice, she looked back up at Sky and said, “I’m keeping it.”

Wind, sitting in the far seat, tried to stifle his laughter through the comms. “She’s adopting a kitchen utensil. Classic.”

Four’s voice cut in over the car’s speaker, dry as ever. “It’s probably sturdier than most of our weapons at this point.”

(y/n) huffed and hugged the pot closer to her chest, glaring at the lot of them. “You laugh now, but this pot saved Time’s life. It’s earned its place.”

Sky held up his hands in surrender, smiling softly. “Fair enough. Just don’t name it.”

(y/n) grumbled, muttering something about ‘Stainless Steve’ under her breath as the car sped toward safety.

——

——

The car ride back was filled with (y/n)’s assurances that she was fine, though she kept hugging the iron pot like a security blanket. “Seriously, guys, I’m fine,” she said for the third time, looking between Time, Sky, and Four. “No one died, I didn’t get shot, and I’m home safe. That’s a win in my book.”

Sky gave her a worried glance, but (y/n) waved him off. “I’ll call you in the morning, Time.” she promised, her voice tired but steady. “If there’s any trouble tonight, just let me know.”

Time nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “We’ll be fine. I will always worry. You just get some rest.”

As Four pulled up to her house, (y/n) got out with the iron pot still in her hands, giving the group a tired wave as they drove off. She smiled faintly when she saw Wind hanging halfway out the window, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, (y/n)!” he shouted, “Happy New Year!” only to yelp as Sky yanked him back into the car by the collar.

Shaking her head, she walked up to her front door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Her mom was there in the living room, walking over with a warm smile. “Hey, sweetie. How was the gala?”

At that, (y/n) sniffled, her resolve finally cracking. She pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder, shaking as the weight of the night caught up with her. Her mom froze for a second, surprised, before wrapping her arms around her daughter. She could feel the dampness on her shoulder and (y/n)’s quiet sniffles.

Whatever happened, her baby needed comfort, so she just held her tighter.

“What’s wrong, honey?” her mom asked softly.

“Mmmph,” (y/n) mumbled into her shoulder.

Her mom tilted her head, stroking her hair. “What was that?”

Pulling her face away just enough to be heard, (y/n) blurted out, “I’m friends with absolute jerks!”

Her mom blinked in confusion, only for (y/n) to launch into a tired, almost comical rant. “Do you know what happens every time I’m with them? Shenanigans! Absolute shenanigans! I knew I should’ve stayed home, Mom. I knew it!”

Her mom blinked again, trying to figure out if she was supposed to be concerned or amused. It didn’t sound like (y/n) was actually upset, more like she was venting out of sheer frustration.

Finally, (y/n) sighed deeply, slumping her shoulders. “I just needed to get that out of my system,” she admitted.

Her mom gave her another hug, patting her back. “Well, good news-you’re just in time to celebrate New Year’s with us!”

(y/n) blinked, pulling back slightly. “What? Mom, it’s after midnight.”

As if on cue, her younger sister Jack walked by, picked up the wall clock and turned it around, manually turning it back an hour. “Dinner’s almost ready.” Jack called out bluntly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Their dad walked in next, pulling (y/n) into a big bear hug. “Go change and get comfortable,” he said with a grin. “I got your favorite sparklers and cake. We’re celebrating properly tonight.”

Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes again, but this time they were happy ones. She nodded, her body finally relaxing completely. “Thanks, Dad.” she whispered, her voice soft but grateful.

“Anything for my girl.” he said, ruffling her hair before walking off to help Jack in the kitchen.

(y/n) sniffled again, looking between her mom, dad, and sister, feeling the tension of the night finally ease away.

This.

This was exactly what she needed.

So much better than going to a Gala.

….

She wasn’t gonna get school credit for going, UGH!

—-

The chain was gathered back at their base, still tense but trying to regroup. Everyone was either sitting around the meeting table or leaning against walls, tired but alert. Four had his laptop open, typing away as the others traded updates on the night.

“Emilio didn’t even follow us,” Sky said, breaking the silence. “It didn’t sit right. He’s not the type to just let something go.”

“He didn’t need to.” Warriors muttered, arms crossed. “He thought he had us.”

Wild, sitting on the edge of the table, raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Four looked up from his laptop, his face grim. “Our men sent over some footage. Emilio wasn’t following us because he had other plans.”

He turned the laptop toward the group and hit play. The room went silent as Emilio’s face filled the screen, furious and shouting at his men. His words hit like a punch to the gut.

“Find them! Take them out!” Emilio yelled in the video, holding a switch in his hand. “They’re nothing! A small group of fools, and they’re winning? Kill them all! Bury them in rubble!”

Time’s face was unreadable, but his grip on his cane tightened as the footage showed Emilio pressing the button repeatedly. The room stayed silent as the realization sank in.

“That bastard planted explosives,” Twilight said, his voice low and dangerous. “He was going to take out the whole building.”

“He was going to take us all out,” Sky corrected, his voice tight. “Everyone in that building…gone.”

“(Y/n) was in there,” Wild said, his tone sharp. “She would’ve-“

“She didn’t,” Time cut him off, his voice calm but heavy. “None of us did.”

“But why didn’t it happen?” Hyrule asked, looking around. “The explosives didn’t go off.”

Four turned back to his screen, pulling up another video. “Because while we were dealing with him and his men, someone else was dealing with him too. Watch this.”

The second video showed Emilio again, but this time, his rage was directed at the switch in his hand. He pressed it over and over, cursing loudly when nothing happened. The scene shifted to chaos,explosions, but not in the gala. It was Emilio’s bases going up in flames.

“No one else was targeted,” Four said, leaning back in his chair. “Whoever did this wanted Emilio to lose everything. And they did it.”

The group sat in stunned silence, watching the flames consume Emilio’s properties on the screen.

“Whoever this was,” Legend said after a moment, his tone uneasy, “they were…thorough.”

“And they knew exactly what they were doing,” Warriors added. “They waited for the perfect moment.”

“But why?” Wind asked, his voice almost a whisper. “Why go after Emilio like that? And why not target us?”

He paused and stared at the footage again.

“….Heck of a way to start the new year ya know.”

“Indeed.” Time said, his gaze dropping to the table, his thoughts clearly turning. “We weren’t the target. Not tonight. ”

Sky let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “So Emilio was outplayed. Completely blindsided. But by who?”

“We don’t know,” Four admitted. “No patterns, no leads, nothing. At least not yet.

“But if Emilio’s plan had worked…” Hyrule’s voice trailed off, the weight of what could’ve been hanging in the air. “We wouldn’t be here.”

“Especially (y/n),” Twilight said quietly. “She wouldn’t have made it out in time.”

Time stood up, his cane steady as he looked around the room. “We don’t tell her. Not now. She doesn’t need to know how close it was.”

The others nodded reluctantly, though the unease was clear. Whoever had stepped in tonight had saved them, but it didn’t feel like a favor. It felt like a warning. And no one liked that one bit.

——

The living room was quiet except for the low hum of the TV playing some badly made movie no one cared to finish. (Y/n) and Jack were curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Leftover snacks were scattered on the coffee table, and a few stray crumbs clung to the blanket draped over them.

The mist floated in silently, barely noticeable as it moved around the room. It paused by the couch, hovering over (y/n) like it was studying her. A soft, almost musical chime sounded, so faint it could’ve been mistaken for part of the movie.

“Warmth… Home… Heart…” The words were barely a whisper, carried on an unseen breeze as the mist seemed to brighten slightly. It moved closer to (y/n), swirling gently around her before stopping by the blanket.

The blanket shifted, as though an invisible hand was carefully pulling it up to cover both her and Jack properly. The air felt warmer, cozier, as if the room itself was tucking them in.

“Keep safe…always…”

A quiet giggle echoed, soft and playful, as the mist swirled one last time. Then it vanished, leaving no trace but the lingering sense of comfort. It wasn’t gone, though. It was there, watching over (y/n), ready to protect her all night long.

The room settled back into stillness, with only the flickering light of the TV casting shadows over the peaceful scene.

———

(Happy New Year folks!)

[gumnut-logic]

“Alan, calm down. It was an accident.”

It was said through gritted teeth. This was not something he expected to have to weather when training his youngest brother in basic mountain climbing.

But then there had been the incident with the hammer with Gordon...and John, while extremely athletic had absolutely terrified Scott with the mild hypothermia incident.

Virgil...well, Uncle Lee had taught Virgil with Scott so big brother escaped that.

Though come to think of it, Uncle Lee did have a scar.

But it wasn’t as big as this one was going to be.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry!”

He drew in a breath and let it out ever so slowly. “Calm down. We will handle this like any emergency. Scout’s oath, Alan?”

And he made his little brother recite it, thankful that it seemed to focus the fourteen-year-old.

“Accidents happen, it’s how we respond to the accidents that matters, now secure yourself and contact John.”

Scott did his best to attach himself to the ice face as well. It took him a few extra moments working through pain and the inability to move without it.

An ice pick through his calf did that.

It was an accident. Scott had moved unexpectedly and Alan had picked at the ice at just the wrong moment in time.

“Thunderbird Five, we need help.”

A simple, but concise message.

“Alan? What’s wrong?”

The tremor in Alan’s voice as he reported the incident hurt Scott more than the ice axe.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” It was a wail.

“It happens. I’ll be fine.” Looking down was awkward, and yes, his climbing pants were an uncomfortable shade of red, but he had confidence in his brothers. They would be off this mountain in no time.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had stayed back on the Island while Scott both took a break on Aotearoa’s South Island and began some basic training for his youngest brother.

Apparently, he would be off rota longer than expected.

“Should I try to bandage it.”

“No.” Scott shifted a little and regretted it. “Virgil will be here soon.” It wasn’t like his brother was far away at Thunderbird speeds. He could imagine Virgil flying down that ridiculous chute of his this very moment. Five minutes, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Allie, it happens.” A swallow. “Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to drive?” Distraction was the key.

“No? Didn’t Parker teach you? Gordon still raves about his lessons.”

Another swallow. “Yeah, he did. Had to repair a lot of pink paintwork for his efforts.”

“What? You smashed up FAB1?!”

“Kinda.” Yeah, now it was really starting to hurt. hanging from the side of a mountain with blood dripping into the abyss wasn’t his favourite past time. C’mon, Virg, hurry up. “Parker was not impressed.” Scott flexed his own axe in one hand and dug into the ice and secured an extra piton which he then looped into his harness.

Didn’t hurt to be extra secure.

“How? Did Parker actually let you drive FAB1?”

“Kinda. Not really. He has another pink car.” A grimace. “Still goes fast.” And it had hit that tree rather hard. Sometimes he swore he could still hear the echoes of the lecture he received from both Parker and his father about driving too fast.

Cars were not planes and did not respond quite the same way.

Didn’t help that England drove on the wrong side of the road. It was all cack-handed.

He tightened his fist and loosened his shoulders.

“Scott, you okay?” That tremor still hurt.

“Virgil will be here any moment.” And as if summoned, a streak of green tore into the sky above them.

And planes weren’t Thunderbirds. The sight of the big green behemoth was such a relief.

His comms. “Hey, Virg. Need a hand.”

“Coming down.” Two spun slowly midair and opened her bay doors. A moment and the rescue rig, complete with two frowning brothers descended from her belly.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Another sigh. “No, he won’t. He’s Virgil. He will just run you through climbing safety ad nauseam.”

“Gordon is never going to let me live it down.”

A blink. “Yeah, you may be right about that.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I really am.”

“I know, Allie, I know.”

-o-o-o-

[okkotsuus]

hello! i’d like to request a very sad gojo angst, based on billie eilish’s song “what was i made for?” like reader could be having a self doubt moment??? if she’s good enough for satoru (you can do the same thing you did as to that one gojo angst you did! where gojo was healing from geto’s death) thank you ! ^__^

it’s not what he’s made for (satoru g.) !

features: satoru gojo

contents: crying. implied death and injury. grief. basic jjk triggers. feeling useless. feeling not enough. feeling ashamed. failing to protect people. perceived judgment. heartbreak. hiding things from partners. hurt with comfort for once. angst. 1k words.

notes: idk how i feel about this, so lmk if it's not what you want and i can try it again :)

you can’t help but notice the way satoru gojo stiffens the second he sees raw emotion being expressed. it’s something you find out before you even begin dating him. you can practically feel the discomfort radiating off of him when he sees another sorcerer cry at their partner’s death.

it was at that moment you vowed to yourself to never cry in front of him. but that was a while ago, and you were no longer in a shallow friendship with him: you were in love.

but you couldn’t shake that fear that if you ever showed vulnerability to him, he would regard you with that same disgust. it was irrational, you knew that, but it still lingered in the back of your mind.

even now, as you feel your heart actively cracking in your chest as yet another sorcerer is slain under your care, you just choke down the tears until satoru leaves the room. the inside of your bottom lip is bitten raw from how many times you’ve clamped your mouth shut to ward off sobs of agony.

with a cursed technique like yours, every mission comes with a lot of survivor’s guilt. protector’s promise: a cursed technique that grants you a stats and cursed energy boost based on the strength difference between you and your allies. even more so when your allies are weaker than the opponent. you also get a boost from non-sorcerers being in the immediate area

alone, you are a low-grade one. but with a group weaker than you, it skyrockets to high-grade one or even to special grade. as such, you are often paired up with sorcerers fresh out of training, or even those still in it.

the higher-ups treat you as a way to weed out weak sorcerers, all while boosting your own powers and giving your obscenely hard missions. because you also receive a boost if your allies are injured or killed. it’s one of the most heart-breaking things a sorcerer can experience; to have a partner die. and you lose at least one nearly every mission.

with no outlet in satoru, you find yourself sobbing alone or with shoko. she knows how satoru is, just as well as you, having been his classmate and friend for ten years. that’s why you should’ve expected this.

when she picks up the phone, you speak immediately. “shoko, i’m sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend… it’s not what he’s made for.” you hear shuffling on the other line and protests from her before a familiar voice rings in your ear. “y/n, it is what i’m made for. now, come home, we need to talk.” then, the line clicks.

you feel your heart break, he doesn’t think you trust him. he’s mad. he’s upset. he’s disgusted. the thoughts spiral as fat tears fall down your cheeks, opening the door.

there stands satoru, arms crossed and his lips pursed. the blindfold he usually wore was hung loosely around his neck, forcing you to look straight into his baby blues. the second your eyes meet his, your facade crumbles.

with a choked sob, you fall onto your knees, crumbling like sand. but you never hit the ground, strong arms slip under your arms and around your back. the side of your face pressed against his jujutsu-uniform jacket. his other arm slips under your knees as he picks you up as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, kicking the door closed.

satoru sits on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as he holds your so tenderly. a part of you feels guilty and stupid for thinking that he would ever be disgusted with you. you had never seen satoru gojo handle anyone with this much care, touch feather-light with the strength of love.

“why haven’t you told me you felt this way, do you not trust me..?” his words come out in a whisper, voice shaking ever so slightly. at that moment, you feel like the worst person in the world for making him think that. your hands cup his face as you look towards him with your teary eyes, desperately shaking your head.

“satoru, no, i trust you so much, more than anyone-”

“then why?”

your words catch in your throat, shame burning and pooling in your gut as you decide whether or not to tell him that it was because of some silly face he made years ago. worry surges again before being dissipated by his forehead pressing against yours.

a deep breath in, then you speak. “i didn’t want you to think i was weak…” in that instant you see his face soften, likely connecting the dots himself. 

he’s gentle as he presses your face into the crook of his neck, arms winding around your back. his words come out faintly against your ear, breath lightly tickling your skin. “i’m sorry i made you feel that way, you’re not weak. you’re strong, much stronger than me in this regard.” he feels you smile against his skin and he chuckles, rocking side to side with you in his arms as if nothing else in this world mattered more.

you can’t help but feel like a fool for ever thinking that satoru gojo would look upon you with disgust for anything: especially not for some tears. not when he looks at you like you’re the world when you do any little thing. not when he whispers such sweet nothings to you at any opportunity. not when he holds you so desperately close when there is any sort of chance.

you can’t help but be forced to realize the strength in which satoru gojo loves. the love that is exclusive to you and you alone.

okkotsuus 23

[mysticcollectionbee]

Just a random thought I had: I would really like to see Carmilla and Alastor interact more in the future seasons. I don't think people realize how weird it is that Carmilla put Alastor on the Board of Overlords and how interesting their business dynamic could be. Carmilla, lady of order and professionalism...Put ALASTOR in a meeting room. I get inviting him to join because respect (and probable fear of this mysterious guy who has been killing your associates deciding to kill YOU out of disrespect), but...After you realize he doesn't take anything about being an Overlord that serious why do you keep inviting him??? He'll keep coming because he might get entertainment and useful info out of it but what does Carmilla get out of him being there?

My best idea is that maybe he kinda works as a fail-safe in case somebody tries to start a physical fight or something. Alastor clearly enjoys any excuse to kill and eat people so that could work for that. And everyone in that room knows he's capable of killing them but doesn't. So they might use that evidence as to why they should respect the rules of the meeting and Carmilla, because the Radio Demon respects it.

But the last part is 90% a bluff. Alastor doesn't respect nor care about the board of Overlords whatsoever. He might have mild respect for Carmilla, because he seems to like women more than men and atleast pretends to respect her position among the overlords. But they probably dislike interacting with each other. Carmilla has to deal with him not taking anything she cares about when it comes to their profession and title seriously, his enjoyment of chaos probably getting in the way of their meeting occasionally (She probably saw or atleast later on heard from Zestial about Alastor bringing an Egg boi to the meeting), and the biggest issue for her: Deal with a person who constantly has or had KILLED YOUR ASSOCIATES and broadcasts it. Add to the fact that Alastor is probably a bit hard to predict because he can switch from goofy and charismatic radio show host to The sadistic and calculating Radio Demon very quickly.

On Alastor's side: Here's a person who thinks they're wiser than him and believes there should be order to owning souls and territory when all he seems to care about is doing what HE wants and HIS version of control on things. She's passive aggressive or atleast snarky to him as retaliation for his unprofessionalism and to keep his ego in his check. And overall, Alastor probably sees her as a stick in the mud trying to ruin his sadistic fun.

But they still respect each other while disliking each other (Kinda like how you might have a coworker who gets his work done and is useful to the group...But whose personality you can't stand) . Carmilla probably respects Alastor's power and his role in keeping the Overlords in check (I don't think she would be able to make an Board of Overlords if there were so many of them and some of them might've wanted to kill her for trying to "boss them around"). Alastor probably respects how much of a smart professional she is, her ability to lead and try to control the group she made, and her being a dutiful mother (Remember Al is canonically a mama's boy and according to old canon feels like a surrogate father or atleast responsible for Niffty in a similar way despite her age). So yeah, I need to see them interact more. I want to see their first interaction (How did Carmilla react to finding out the mysterious voice on the radio was some red deer guy who makes cannibal puns?). Has Carmilla ever tried to subtly suggest certain Overlords Alastor should target next? Would Alastor hear her out or just ignore it?

Anyways, that's my thought about it. Both of them are now kinda allies to the hotel (specifically Vaggie) so it would be nice to see them interact more.

[peak-dumbass]

I felt like ranting about TFP/RiD2015 starscream’s character since I feel like a lot of people mischaracterize him, but this turned out to be much longer than I thought it would sooooo click if you wanna see my essay about the most disloyal second-in-command ever :]

So when talking about tfp starscream I hear a lot of his fans mention how bad the show was for not addressing megatron’s abuse of him and for not giving him a redemption arc where he recovers from it and becomes a better person or something along those lines

I don’t want to seem rude, but where the fuck did you guys get the impression that the show was ever going to do something like that?? Or even that starscream was ever going to be viewed in a remotely sympathetic light??? Cuz it definitely wasn’t from the show I can tell you that much

Now I’m not denying that starscream was abused, I do agree with that — but did you guys forget the context of why Megatron feels the need to punish him so brutally? Cuz every single time he does so it’s cuz starscream is trying to take his place as leader of the decepticons and, more often than not, trying to kill him in the process — like did yall forget that one of the first things starscream did in the show was plan to leave megatron to die in space after taking the only thing keeping him alive from his chest and the only reason he didn’t was because he was being spied on by soundwave?

I’m not stating that to say “megatron was right to abuse starscream”, hell no, but I’m stating that to say there was a reason for it in-show and it wasn’t to show that starscream deserves sympathy but to show how ruthless megatron is, especially to people that cross him like starscream

The whole “redemption arc” idea that some people like to cling to is what confuses me the most because are we talking about the same character here?? Are we looking at the same guy because so matter how you look at starscream, he was never meant to be redeemed

This is the same character that, throughout the entire show, is the only one to have killed an autobot on screen — and he did this in his first scene in the first episode — and actively brags about it on several occasions afterwards throughout the show

This is the same character that, when the autobots gave him one chance to see if he could be seen as an ally, couldn’t help himself from mentioning his murdering of cliffjumper to arcee — cliffjumper’s partner — and then using her anger and grief as way to escape, effectively making it impossible that the autobots would ever truly trust him again

This is the same character that, even after leaving the decepticons, can’t help himself from trying to murder megatron (to take his place, not as revenge for his abuse) and getting in the autobots way of stopping the decepticons

The fact that starscream’s seemingly favorite pastime in the show is Attempted Murder so he can become a Worse Dictator is something I think his fans gloss over much too easily — especially since they’re typically the same people that hate megatron for abusing him because starscream *checks notes* keeps attempting to murder him

The only reason why megatron keeps starscream around is because he’s more useful to him alive and working under him than either dead or working against him — and considering how many times starscream has attempted to murder him and has actively ruined his plans, I’m surprised he hasn’t killed him already

Even after all of that happens and starscream finally says “fine, I won’t attempt to kill megatron anymore” in season 3, he’s still ruining his plans with his pettiness and jealousy towards others like shockwave —

no matter what happens to starscream, he refuses to grow and change

— which is why I can’t understand where this “I can fix him cuz the writers refused to” mentality came from

He was never meant to be “fix”-able, at best he was meant to be a doomed character, a cautionary tale and/or a tragic villain — because no matter what happens, he keeps ruining things for himself and refuses to accept that, putting the blame for his failures and feelings of inadequacy on others like megatron or optimus when, in reality, it’s always him who is reason why he can’t be happy

And this carries over into Robots In Disguise 2015 as well, when he returns to be the villain of season 3 (or 2.5, it’s complicated)

He returns to earth so he can find all of the 7 weaponizer mini-cons and link them to himself to become all powerful so he can kill megatron and conquer the galaxy

I’ve seen some people say that “the writers had to add on the ‘conquer the galaxy’ part to starscream’s plan because then it would be hard to justify why the heroes would want to stop a victim of abuse from killing his abuser” and just —tell me you don’t understand starscream’s character without telling me you don’t understand starscream’s character

My Sibling in Primus, starscream has been wanting to do that since the beginning of Transformers: Prime, that’s literally his main reason for constantly wanting to kill megatron all the time — so he can take his place as leader of the decepticons, defeat the autobots, and then become the ruler of Cybertron

While I do agree that starscream wanting megatron dead for all of the pain he caused him is definitely part of his motive here, this type of revenge is never going to shown as a good thing, nor should it

Even after its been several years since megatron left the decepticons after being used by unicron, even after all of cybertron seems to have moved on from the war, starscream can’t let his obsession with killing megatron go — and that isn’t a good thing

Bumblebee confirms that starscream has been assumed dead this entire time, meaning nobody was chasing or hunting him down, nobody was trying to turn him over to the new cybertronian government for his crimes — he could’ve used this as a way to escape it all and finally start anew, find other ways to make himself better and happier after having to deal with megatron looming over him for so long

But he didn’t

He stumbled upon an old megatron plan for gaining power and couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t let it go, he refused to break the cycle and he has no one to blame for continuing it but himself

When he finds the Dark Star Saber and uses it, the sword resists him, with him saying that it’s because the sword doesn’t find him worthy enough to weld it since it can tell he isn’t megatron, but he tries to weld it anyways

I’ve seen one person try to interpret this as a way to say that “this means he isn’t evil since the sword that was made for evil is rejecting him” which is the dumbest take ever, but here’s my interpretation of what the Dark Star Saber’s rejection means

Ever since his first appearance on screen, starscream has been trying to be the leader of the decepticons, the most powerful, the most feared, the most respected — he wants to be megatron so bad it’s painful — and everything that happens to him is telling him that he isn’t

But he refuses to accept that — of course he doesn’t, he’s starscream, megatron’s most disloyal second-in-command — and that’s all he’ll ever amount to as long as he walks his road of selfishness, anger, and revenge

And that’s what he does until he’s defeated again by Bumblebee and his team, because if there’s one thing that remains constant for starscream that isn’t his favorite hobby of Attempted Murder it’s his refusal to grow and change as a person

[captainlunaxmen]

All for the Cameras

Chapter 5

Finnick Odair x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: we'll find a bit more about the reader's past.

Chapter warnings: murder, threat, well.. it's the Hunger Games.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

I'll tag you all on this chapter again to let you all know.ow that this is the blog I'll post the next chapters from now on... since the other one is inoperable. ❤️❤️❤️

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess

I'm sorry if it doesn't let me tag everyone 😔

Masterlist

"Hi, my love."

"Finnick." I shortly reply, using all my strength not to look at him.

There's a short pause before he speaks up.

"What did he want?" He asks.

"To remind me that after we're married I'll be... his." I sigh.

"He wishes." He lets out a soft laugh and I follow, "you look good in that." He then says, nodding to my outfit.

"I'll let you borrow it sometimes." I joke and he chuckles.

"Switching clothes... I like it. I'm sure you'd look a lot better with this on than me." He points at the fish net tied around him.

"Well, the Capitol seemed to appreciate you in it."

"I thought I've been clear earlier," he starts to get closer, "your eyes are the only ones I care about," he lifts my chin up to look at him, "and your lips are the only thing I can think of."

"Finnick..." I weakly warn and he pulls away, going to lean against the opposite wall.

"I could be dead in a week..." he starts.

"Don't say that..."

"I could be dead in a week," he ignores me, "and all I can think about is you. Being with you. All the things I would love to do to you right here, right now... well... actually all night and everywhere, "he laughs embarrassed, I don't think I've ever seen him embarrassed like this before, "I would love to scream to the world how much..."

"Stop it." I basically order him.

"I could be dead in a week." He bitterly laugh, "and I can't even get a kiss."

"Finnick..."

"I'm not blaming you, I want you to know that. If I were to kiss you right now, I don't think I would be able to stop and... they would probably catch us and... they could hurt you. Because I could be dead in a week, but you might have a chance anyway."

I just hug him. Tightly, like if I were to let go he would disappear forever. When I feel his arms around me, I sigh, feeling safe. He kisses the top of my head, holding me just as tight.

I pull away just enough to look at him.

"Don't you ever say that again, you hear me? I hear you say it again and I will kill you myself." I warn him, tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiles.

I nod and pull away completely, blinking away the tears.

"Tomorrow morning the training sessions start at 8. Not that you need any, but... it might be a good chance to make allies." I tell him, "just... put the flirting aside, okay?"

"Jealous?" He teases.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, at least, until the beginning for the Games." I tease back, earning a laugh from Finnick.

"You can joke about it and I can't?"

"You weren't joking, Finnick." I reminds him.

"You're right." He smiles, guilty, "Thank you."

The elevator signals we're at 12's apartments.

"I thought you press for 4."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a woman go home on her own?" He smirks.

I roll my eyes, failing in hiding a smile.

"Go get some sleep, gentleman." I say.

"Yes, ma'am."

The doors close and I head to the kitchen to get a drink.

"Well, hello." Haymitch greets me from his spot on the couch.

"Tell me you didn't finish the liquor already." I joke walking to the cupboard to take a glass.

"I actually prepared a glass for you," he tells me, showing me the glass, "c'mon. "

I playfully roll my eyes and walk to sit on the couch with him.

We just sit there. Keeping each other company until it's so late we can't do anything but go to sleep.

--------------

I walk around each station of the training rooms to see if anyone need help, but as expected, no one does. They all probably know this place like the back of their hand, being first tributes and then mentors.

I keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta, to see if they're actually putting an effort in making allies... Katniss especially.

I see them walking around, inspecting the other tributes. A good part of the tribute is trying to show off, to intimidate them, most likely. I see Johanna smirking in Katniss' direction, so I look up at Plutarch sighing. Making Katniss trust any of them is gonna be harder than expected... a lot harder.

Peeta is now talking with one of the Morphlings, by the camouflage station, while Katniss is talking to Wiress and Beetee.

In my opinion they're a good choice, they're brilliant, but they're not very strong, and they need some strength too. Unfortunately the strongest one are also the cockiest one.

Speaking of cocky victors... I can't seem to find Finnick anywhere.

But I notice Katniss walking to Mags.

I would choose Mags, but because I know about the plan... Katniss doesn't, I don't understand what she's doing.

I keep on watching everyone until I feel a presence behind me.

"What do you think her strategy is?" Finnick asks from next to me.

"I... I have no idea." I sigh defeated. "But I can't exactly blame her."

"How so?"

"Look at everyone. Each victor either has a cocky, a challenging grin, or a hateful grin on their faces. Not very welcoming. Especially when she has to choose who to trust." I explain.

"That's her only choice though." He replies.

"I know," I sigh again and turn to look at him, noticing just now the rope around his neck, "what the hell is that?"

"What?" He fakes innocence.

"I told you, not to joke about it." I sigh annoyed, walking away from him. Noticing Katniss went into the simulator.

"I was just practicing," He laughs, "you know this is the best knot to learn for the arena."

"I swear, half of the time all I want to do is punch you." I shake my head, stopping to watch Katniss practice.

"And the other half?" He asks, and I don't have to look at him to know he's smirking, proud of himself.

"Punch you harder." I tease back, earning a surprised chuckle from him.

As Kantiss starts more people gather around to watch too.

"She has trust issues, doesn't she?" Johanna stands beside me, looking ahead.

"Maybe don't smirk while wielding an axe next time." I sarcastically reply and she scoffs.

We all stand watching Katniss using her skills and once she's done, everyone is at least impressed, which makes me smirk, proudly. Wiress is actually cheering, clapping her hands and that makes me smile genuinely.

----------

"Good news!" Haymitch cheers as we enter the apartment. "At least half of the Tributes want you as an ally."

"Well, they saw her shoot." Peeta adds.

"Well, sweetheart, you got your pick of the litter." Haymitch tells her.

"Choose carefully." I suggest.

"I want Wiress and Beetee. " She states, with no hesitation.

"Johanna calls them 'Nuts' and 'Volts'." Peeta says.

"They're still the smarter out there. And you need smart." I, subtly, scold him.

"Well, okay, good. Now who else?" Asks Haymitch.

"Mags."

I have no argument to defend her choice... unfortunately.

Peeta turns around, frustrated. Well, I'd be too.

"All right, fine, then no one." Katniss sternly says.

Haymitch and I share a look. We already know we will have to do it ourselves.

"I'll tell them you're still making up your mind." He says before walking away and I follow him, after sending a reassuring smile to Peeta.

"What should we do?" Haymitch asks, once we're alone.

"We will have to make allies for them." I answer, crossing my arms.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'll start with Johanna, you talk to Finnick."

"You talk to Finnick, I'll talk to Johanna." I tell him.

"And why's that?" He mimics me, crossing his arms, there's a smirk growing on his face.

"... no reason." I avoid his eyes.

"Mh mh..." he hums, "Are you going to be attending the solo performances?"

"Nope." I answer, "I have...wedding duties to attend to."

"Fuck..." he swears, "I don't wanna be in your shoes, princess."

"Yeah... tell me about it." I groan, fighting the urge to pull at my hair.

"What's the plan?"

"Venue hunting... I think... I don't know" I let out a puff, "or maybe, Cal wants to tell me what he decided."

"Sounds more like it." He pulls me to him for a reassuring side hug, "it's his wedding, after all."

"Yeah." I laugh, and pull away, "I'm just an accessory. He will probably decide my dress too."

"Of course he will." He sighs, before he can say more, an Avox approaches up with an envelope in hand, handing it to me.

"Speak of the devil..." I sigh, opening Cal's letter.

"I'm sure the devil would be offended by that." Haymitch playfully scolds me.

"Sorry, I'll apologise when I see him. I'd gladly go to hell than meet up with Cal." I joke back, still reading the letter. "He's apparently waiting for me... eagerly."

"How romantic." He mutters, "will you be here tonight? For the scores?"

"I hope so." I say, "I'll make sure of it."

"Still be careful, princess." He nods his head, "and keep..."

" 'those eyes open', I know." I wink and walk away to the elevator, hoping the day will faster than I hope.

-------------

I don't have time to even walk out of the elevator that Cal's hand is already grabbing my wrist, excitedly leading me to the big table in his huge apartment, where a well dressed man and two assistants, I think, stand.

"Come, come, my sweetness. Mr Travers, here, was just about to tell me a great news, apparently." Cal makes me sit in a chair in front of him, so he can rest his hands on my shoulders. The gesture only makes me feel more trapped.

"Oh, yes, yes." Mr Travers nods, proudly holding his hand out to his assistant, who immediately hands him a paper. "I was coming here with the intention of showing you the options I gathered for your special day, but..."

Capitol people and their fucking theatrical manner...

"But..?" Cal presses, getting impatient.

"But I received a call this morning, just when I put the last picture in the bag... from our so loved President Snow." Mr Travers announces and I tense, "he had an incredible idea, as always. He offered his mansion as a venue for your wedding." He put the photo of the mansion down on the table.

Of fucking course.

"Really?" Cal's hold on me feels even tighter than before... maybe it is, or maybe it's just Snow's control caging me in.

Once the man nods enthusiastically, Cal shouts excited.

"That's wonderful!" He turns to me, "isn't it?"

"Wonderful." I repeat with a forced smile.

"How generous!" He comments.

"He also offered to..." again with the theatre.

"Well?"

"He volunteer to formalise the wedding himself."

"He said that?" I ask, shocked.

"Exact words." Travers nods.

'Volunteer'...

"It's going to be amazing," Cal is back behind me, his hands around my neck in what could seem an affectionate gesture, stroking my skin gently, but it's actually more suffocating than a snake hold.

They both go on and on and on talking about the wedding, as if I'm not even here.

The cake's gonna be like this, the chairs like that, the flowers, the centre-piece, the food, the music...

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, real quick, excuse me." I say standing up, and hurrying to the bathroom near the bedroom.

I try to take deep breath, looking at the time, the solo performances are about to finish. I need to find an excuse to get out. They're not even asking me anything... I scoff at my reflection in the mirror, then I wash my face and open the door.

I gasp when I come face to face with Cal.

"Cal!" I exclaim, immediately faking a laugh. "What..."

"He's gone. We almost got through everything." He tells me.

"Already?" I ask, pretending to be sad I lost it.

"Yeah, gotta be prepared. We should get married when the Quartel Quell is over, and we don't know how long it will last. Maybe two days or two weeks.. gotta be prepared." He smiles.

"Of course." I nod, "well, then I should go. I have to be present, you know, when they announce the scores."

I try to walk past him, but he doesn't move a muscle, enjoying the closeness.

He wraps an arm around my waist to pull me even closer, leaning down so our noses touch.

"How about..." he starts, "you stay here a little longer, uh? We could have some fun together. It's been a while."

"I wish... I really do," I try to come up with the most sorry expression I can, "but I do need to get back. And since we finished earlier than expected, I should take advantage of that. I still have a duty to do."

"Oh please! I miss you." His hold gets a little tighter and he pouts, "Stay. I miss you, I miss your touch... your body... fuck... you still have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"

"Cal, trust me, no one is more sorry than I am, but I have a job to do," I cup his cheek with one hand and he leans into my touch, "Snow counts on me."

"Not even a few minutes?" He tries again and I shake my head, "Okay..."

"I'm sorry." I say, even though inside I'm hitching to run out of here.

I gently pull away from him and walk to the living room to grab my jacket, all of this feeling his eyes on me, constantly.

"I'll go now." I turn to him, to check if he is far enough for my liking and walk back to the elevator.

"Sure."

Before I can walk into the elevator, he grabs my hand, spin me to face him and crashes his lips on mine. His hands grabs everything he can reach. I try to push him off, as subtly as I can, but his touch just intensifies.

Thankfully, before I start to fully panic, he pulls away, just a little, still touching my lips with his, slightly.

"Once we're married..." he pants, "I'm never... ever letting you go." He lets out a breathless chuckle that only makes my skin crawl. "And, hopefully, I'll have no more competition for your attention. I'll make sure of it."

"Yeah." Is all I can say.

Once the elevator's doors open I rush in.

Finally the doors are fully closed and I can breath again.

'I'll make sure of it.' He said...

Finnick.

---------------

"Hey," Peeta is the first one to greet me as I walk back into the apartment, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Uh? Yeah... yeah, all fine." I force out a smile, I notice Haymitch watching me carefully, with a look that seems to say 'we'll talk about it' and I just nod, "so... what did I miss?"

"Oh these two basically put a big target o their own backs." Haymitch states.

"We didn't..." Peeta starts, but Haymitch stops him.

"Our Baker here painted little Rue on the floor. Girl on fire over there hanged a mannequin," he pauses, "after painting Seneca Crane's beard and name on it."

I'm lost for words, I look at both Peeta and Katniss, Peeta doesn't meet my eyes, he doesn't seem remorseful, but still he probably doesn't want to see my discontent. Katniss look at me, no trace of remorse or sorrow, but kind of proud.

"Not a smart move, I give you that," I say to Haymitch who nods thankful, "but it was a damn brave one."

Haymitch looks at me dumbfounded and shakes his head, defeated.

Katniss softly smiles at me and Peeta finally look up at me with a proud grin.

"It's starting." Effie tells us, and we all gather in front of the TV and Ceasar starts listing the tributes' scores

"Has anyone ever received a 0?" Katniss wonders.

-----

It's 12's turn.

"Oh god..." I scoff at the perfect 12 score for both Peeta and Katniss.

"Here, I present to you," Haymitch points at the TV, "the consequences.'

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"They didn't give you a perfect 12 because they were impressed by your performances." I say.

"They did that to make sure that now the other Tributes know who to aim for." Haymitch finishes. "Both of you."

I see Haymitch sends an accusatory look at Katniss knowing they just made our job at protecting Peeta harder.

"Well, the damage is done... better go all to get some sleep." I say with a sigh, "we'll have enough time tomorrow to get ready for the interviews."

Everybody nods and walks to the respective rooms. Effie walks past me, squeezing my hand, reassuringly, I smile at her and watch her go.

I turn around to Haymitch, already looking at me.

"Drink?" He sighs, I nod and follow him to the kitchen.

I sit by the counter as he pours two glasses of wine, I think... I don't really care.

"Thanks." I say as he hands me a glass.

"What happened?" He finally asks, sitting with me.

"Well... for starters the wedding venue is going to be, by courtesy of our kind President, his mansion." I start, then take a bug gulp of wine.

"How kind." Haymitch sarcastically comments.

"Then, since he is, oh so kind and oh so selfless, he will be the one to make us husband and... wife." I say the last part with a shudder.

"Control freak."

I nod and take another big gulp of alcohol.

"But I don't think that's what got you so jumpy." He puts his glass down and gives me his full attention.

"Cal was going through everything with the planner quickly, and they finished just as quickly, so I took the chance and said my goodbye. He caught me off guard and... well he kissed me and he then said he can't wait to be married and all... with no competition," I take a shaky breath, "he said he'd make sure of it."

There's a heavy silence, then Haymitch takes my hand.

"The fisherman is too stubborn to let some spoiled cunt take him out. In any way possible." He reassures me and I can't help, but smile at his choice of word.

"Yeah... maybe you're right." I say squeezing his hand grateful.

"He can't do anything to him from here. He can pay whoever he wants... but your man is hard to get rid of." He winks and I roll my eyes, "you should know that."

"He... he is not my man. Okay? I'm just worried." I defend myself.

"Sure... sure." He stands up to walk to his room, "get some sleep. So tomorrow you can warn 'not your man'. Just in case."

"Shut up."

He turns his back to me, but still raises his glass to me, and I softly laugh.

I decide to go sit by the window, to clear my head or just distract myself.

As I sit by the window with my glass, I take the remote so I can change the view. I skip a few until I get to one that actually makes me relax: the shore.

As I look out towards the artificial view I can't help to think back at when Finnick was announced winner of his Games.

After he was brought back, I managed to let him have a moment to realise he won. That time he hugged like he was afraid of being taken away again. He cried his eyes out as I tried all I could to reassure him. None of us knew what would've happened a few years later...

I almost drop the glass in my hand when I hear someone approaching. I relax once I notice it's Katniss.

"Hi." She says, "didn't mean to scare you."

"You never do." I gently smile at her, "is it the only way we can actually spend some time together?" I jest, remembering the night on the train.

"I'm afraid so." She jokes, "I needed a glass of water."

"Did Peeta need one too?" I ask, pointing to the two glasses in her hands. She seems taken off guard, but doesn't answer, she just puts the glasses down and come sit with me.

"Can I ask you a favour?" She softly says.

"I will try my best to save Peeta. Well, I'll try to get you both as far as I can, anyway." I tell her, thinking that's what she wanted to ask.

"No... no, I know you will." She says, "I wanted to ask you...."

"What?" I look at her, trying to make her feel safe enough to speak up.

"Would you look after my family?" She finally asks. I'm a little take aback by that, but my body relaxes more, feeling my heart getting warmer because she trusts me enough to take care of her family.

"You didn't need to ask me that." I gently tell her, "I would've, regardless."

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course, Katniss... I..." I take a deep breath, "I know what it's like to feel helpless and not being able to protect your family."

She looks at me, confused. "What happened?"

"I had a brother, Ray." I say, my voice breaking a little, Katniss' features soften, "do you know how I became Snow's 'protégé'?"

She shakes her head.

"My parents worked for him, apparently they were both very loyal and hard working." I start to explain, "when they died, he thought to take us in, to show Panem how generous he was, you know. It was all good for a while, he kind of taught me a lot, unfortunately, but the problems started when he assigned me to help the mentors." Kantiss nods as I speak, attentive, "after a while I couldn't take it anymore. I always got attached to the tributes, and seeing them killed in the arena was... devastating. And I made the mistake of asking him if I could stop. He didn't like it."

"He killed your brother for that?" She asks, I notice tears in her eyes forming.

"He imprisoned him, and threatened if I said no to him again he would've killed him." I tell her, "so I had to keep on assisting the mentors. Then... Finnick won. Which was the happiest day of my life, not only because I didn't want him to die, but also because I thought that maybe... just maybe, Snow would've let me see my brother. He didn't." I take a shaky breath, "when I turned sixteen he asked me to do something, he wanted to give me another 'assignment'... one I really didn't want to do. He had my brother brought into his office... then he had him killed." I notice a tear falling from her eyes as I wipe my own away, "he kept his word. He showed me he always kept his word. I wanted to die in that moment, I wanted to attack him so the Peacekeeper would shoot me, but he predicted that. Told me if I tried to get myself killed in anyway all my friends would die... and my friends included the tributes. Mentors I met, and tributes who won and I accompanied during the victory tour."

"He got you caged." Katniss says softly and I nod. "I knew I misjudged you when I first met you. But I never thought..."

"I know." I sadly smile at her, "I never blamed you."

"I'm really sorry."

"He keeps say that it's the things we love the most that destroy us." I look out the window again, "which is true... but as members of the human race we can't live without love. So I guess we are doomed." I bitterly chuckle.

"Love also makes us strong."

We both turn around to see Peeta standing there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I also didn't want to interrupt." He apologies, genuinely sorry.

"It's okay. I care about you both, I wanted to share my story with you for a while, but I mean... it's not something you just casually say." I shrug.

"No, it's not. Thank you for trusting us." Katniss says.

"No." I shake my head, "Thank you for trusting me."

They both smile at me.

"Do you want us to keep you company?" Peeta asks.

"Go get some sleep, you need it. I'm okay." I reassure them.

"It's not a problem." Katniss tries.

"I'm fine." I smile at her, "I better try to get some sleep myself, anyway."

I stand up, Katniss soon follows, and walk with them until we're in front of Peeta's room.

"Goodnight." I smile at them.

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

-------------------

I'm bouncing my leg as I wait for the elevator to stop at the 4th floor so I can finally talk to Finnick.

Once the doors open I rush in finding Finnick with Mags at the table. I stand here a moment, looking at how normal they look, talking. Like a family, and not like two people about to be sent into a deadly arena.

Then, Finnick's eyes move and lock with mine. His smile brightens for a moment, before noticing my fidgeting hands, then it turns serious.

"Y/n?"

Mags turns to me too, she stands up once she notices my nerves.

"I... I need to talk to Finnick." I say.

Mags walks past me, after giving my hands a good reassuring squeeze, then she leaves us alone.

"Is something wrong?" Finnick asks, standing up too and walking to me.

I lead him to the window so we can sit and talk.

"I... well...uh... yesterday I had to go see Cal," I start, and notice Finnick jaw already tensing, "for the wedding... he and the planner finished rather quickly and when I was leaving... uh..."

"Did he hurt you?" He asks, immediately looking for any sign on me.

"No, no, no." I quickly assure him, "it's what he said."

"What did he say?"

"He said he can't wait to marry me and to finally have me all to himself... with no competition." I look him in the eyes, he frowns, "he said he would make sure of it."

"What... what does it mean?" He asks.

"It means... you need to be more careful in the arena." I sternly say.

"Do you think he would try something?"

"I don't know. He does have enough money to corrupt any other Gamemaker, but the last word is always the Head Gamemaker, but... uh... just be careful." I say, with a soft voice, "Please..."

He looks at me with his sweet eyes and takes my hand in his.

"I will."

"Promise me." I literally order him.

He holds my hand tighter, serious eyes locked on mine.

"I promise you."

I nod, taking a deep breath, not relieved, but a little calmer.

"Thank you." I let out a big sigh and pull myself together, "Alright, uhm... the interviews will start at 8... the usual stuff, you know the drill.." I stand up.

"Thanks." He smiles, standing as well.

We look at each other, the world seems to disappear, his eyes are all I care about on this moment. I make the mistake of looking at his lips for a second, my eyes move quickly between his eyes and his lips, anxiously. He notices and comes closer, taking my hands once again.

"It's okay." He whispers.

"It's really not, but I appreciate the lie." I sadly chuckle, and he does too, caressing my hands.

"You're right, it's not okay. But it's not your fault." He reassures me, "okay?"

I nod and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me reassuringly.

"You're the one who has to fight for his life... and here you are... comforting me." I mutter, pulling away.

"Yeah, well... you're the one who'll have to deal with Cal Kingslay, not me." He jokes and I laugh, showing his slightly.

"Hard to tell which is worse." I play along.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, I turn around to Mags worried face.

"It's okay." I tell her, she then points at me insistingly, "I am okay, I promise."

She smiles sweetly at me, then points at Finnick then at herself, with a determined look, to tell me she's going to take care of him in the arena.

"Take care of each other. Okay?" I ask her and she nods.

"We will." Finnick rubs my arm, comforting.

"Okay... okay, I do have to go and get my tributes ready" I tell them.

"We'll see you tonight then?" He asks as he leads me to the elevator.

"I'll be in the audience." I smile at him.

"The only reason to be on that stage tonight." He grins, "so I can properly look at you."

"Finnick.." I playfully warn him.

"What?" He fake innocence, "I will flirt with you for as long as I can."

"You're insufferable." I roll my eyes and enter the elevator. "Careful on what you say tonight."

He nods, a sweet childish smile grows on his face.

"I'll see you tonight, my love." He says just before the doors close, preventing me from scolding him more.

I shake my head and deeply sigh. As the elevator goes back up to 12, I start to think of a way to properly protect them all in the arena. I know Plutarch will help, but too much help will get suspicious... and if Cal manages to pay someone, it would get harder.

I'm not losing any of them.

I'm not losing him.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Elain held onto Lucien’s arm tightly, the small smile he flashed her just before he winnowed brought her a sense of calm. Gold light, warm like the rays of a summer sun, enveloped them both. 

The world scattered around Elain, colours and shapes falling apart only to come together once again as they reached their destination. Her head was spinning, still not entirely used to winnowing. She wondered if that unusual feeling would ever pass, if it would get better as the years trickled by. 

Lucien’s grip was firm, his steadiness not surprising to Elain, but she envied how certain he was over the control of his own magic. The dreams she was having of Lucien were troubling, her imagination running wild, she could barely look at him without wanting to reach out and touch him. She was, at the very least, glad that those dreams provided her a welcome reprieve from the others that plagued her. 

Endless night skies and bottomless lakes. 

Dying leaves and hands made of bone. 

Something was watching. 

Hiding. 

Waiting.

Elain could have shivered just thinking about the nightmares, and as grateful as she was over the fact that no visions tormented her while she was awake, she suspected the fragile hold she had on her abilities would surely snap eventually. She released a small sigh, no longer in denial about what was happening. 

Elain was in need of a distraction, so when Lucien had come to her after having spent the morning with his father and suggested they do something, anything, she was more than happy to join him. His shoulders had dropped with relief, his jaw had unclenched at her quick reply. They were more comfortable around each other, but there was still a bit of uncertainty underlying every one of their interactions. 

That uncertainty was being chipped away the more time they spent together, resentment falling into the rhythms of an honest friendship. Elain had come to the decision that she and Lucien had gone beyond just simple allies, and as she had taken off her mask, he had been more than willing to do the same. 

Elain liked Lucien. 

Getting to the point where she could even admit such a thing seemed like a step in the right direction, the dull pull of the mating bond muted now that they had grown closer. It no longer frustrated her, it simply existed, and slowly learning about Lucien was rewarding as she came to find out how well she knew him despite how little they had spoken in the last few years. 

Elain had guessed that he was desperate to get away from the Forest House, and that as long as there was some distance between himself and the rest of his family, Lucien would allow himself a moment to unwind. 

She had felt him, just as surely as she could feel the ground beneath her feet. Lucien had been on the brink of panic, his anxiety echoing in her skull, and Elain had wanted to reassure him. She willed as much, and it was done. The bond, no matter that it had not yet been accepted, was as gentle as any lover’s caress as Elain reached out towards Lucien with nothing but her thoughts. 

As Elain began to take in their new surroundings, the bridge connecting their two souls was quiet, like the break of dawn, peaceful. 

The gentle breeze was cool against her cheeks, the afternoon sun high in the sky. Autumn was striking in its beauty, ancient and lovely, and the Forest House had been interesting, but it did not compare to the court’s capital city. 

Elain and Lucien were standing on one of the many winding stone paths, young trees planted along the edges to reveal the countless storefronts. Faeries were going about their business, some walking around leisurely while others winnowed in a burst of sparks. 

Elain felt her lips part in awe, amazed that she had lived in Prythian for years and had yet to visit a city outside of the Night Court. 

“You alright?” Lucien asked, checking on her after winnowing a few times to reach their destination. 

Elain hummed in response, nodding absently. 

Hollowed tree trunks had windows and doors, and Elain realised people actually lived in them. A faerie with wings opened her shutters to water the hanging pots along the sill. Small children ran past them, laughing, careless. 

“Lucien,” she started, a breathless edge to her voice, “Lucien, this city is beautiful.” She tilted her head up towards him, his warm smile a welcome sight. 

“I haven’t come in decades,” he admitted, russet eye bright, the golden one whirring softly. 

Had Lucien not revealed the information to her, Elain would have assumed he came often. He walked along the streets with the confidence of someone who was at ease, like he was home. 

Elain adjusted her hold on him, letting her palm trail along his arm before she reached for his hand. As she laced their fingers together, she felt surprise shoot down the bond before it was replaced with a feeling of content. Elain bit her lip at her own boldness, she knew a blush had bloomed along her cheeks. She was glad Lucien said nothing, or else she might have pulled away from him in embarrassment. 

Lucien led Elain towards the city square, where booths had been set up, various items being sold at each one. Small, triangular, burnt-orange flags were attached to long strings and hung between the buildings, reminding Elain of a festival she and her sisters had gone to as small girls. Their father had bought them each a gift; books for Nesta, a set of paint brushes for Feyre, and a potted plant for Elain. She could still remember the little sunflower, how she had placed it by the window in her bedroom. It had been Elain’s first, and she smiled at the memory as Lucien bought them both an apple tart. 

Everyone clearly knew who Lucien was, but no one approached or treated them any differently. Unlike when Rhysand and Feyre walked the streets of Velaris, those in Autumn seemed to make a great effort to mind their business and avoid looking in the direction of the High Lord’s son. Elain wondered if it was because the Vanserra family scared them, but having spent some time in the court, she assumed it was simply them trying to be polite. 

As they walked, Lucien explained what some of the vendors were selling and provided Elain with some much needed insight on Autumn’s unique culture. She took in all of the information happily, enjoying the way her mate seemed to glow as he spoke about something from his childhood. 

“It’s strange being away from the Forest House,” Elain offered as Lucien walked from the city square down a much quieter street. She held a bag of maple syrup candies in her hand, savouring the sweet and salty taste as she popped another one in her mouth. 

Lucien’s eyes tracked the movement and she tried to ensure she did not blush at his attention. He shrugged, doing the same, before he asked, “Good strange?��� 

Elain nodded, casting a glance around them as she replied. “Amazing.”

Lucien grinned down at her, his expression full of pride. “I haven’t come since before Amarantha,” he held Elain’s hand tightly as he helped her down a few steps, she clutched her skirts, slippers flashing. “Glad to see that nothing’s really changed.” 

The part of the city they were now in seemed older to Elain, smaller houses made of stone separated shops and restaurants, the trees were taller, looking as though they were holding up the sky. Elain could not be sure how much time had passed, but the sun was slowly beginning to set. The horizon was a mix of orange, yellow, and red, perfectly matching the leaves that continued to fall. 

Lucien’s golden eye clicked as a grin broke across his handsome features and he steered Elain towards a building. He had clearly been looking for it, Elain realised, his voice holding a restrained eagerness as he spoke. “Want to see some Autumn Court magic?” 

Elain breathed a short laugh. “You don’t even have to ask,” she replied, his childlike attitude at the prospect of showing her a little piece of his life was infectious. 

Lucien pushed a carved wooden door open, a bell announcing their presence, and held it for Elain so she could pass. She gripped her skirts as she entered, surprised at the sudden burst of heat in the small space. It was like walking into an oven, a stark contrast to the cool air outside. Her mate followed a moment later, but Elain was too distracted to pay him any mind, especially as a large faerie on the room’s opposite end put unprotected hands into a roaring fire. 

Elain gasped, but her concern was short lived as the man called out without looking in their direction. “We’re closed.” 

Lucien seemed completely undeterred as he glanced around. “Even for an old friend, Castor?” He placed a hand low on Elain’s back and she leaned into his casual touch. 

The blacksmith turned with no urgency, leaving the glowing piece of metal in his hands onto a stone counter. He raised a dark brow, wiping his fingers on an already stained apron. “My eyes must be deceiving me,” he said, and Elain noticed they were a striking shade of red, unlike any eyes she had ever seen. 

Castor walked around the counter, hand outstretched and Lucien pulled the other man close for an embrace. Elain was fully aware he had friends in the court he had been raised in, but she could not help but be a bit surprised that his former acquaintances were not strictly Forest House nobles and high fae. 

Castor’s accent was less sharp than the one she had begun to associate with Autumn, but it was just as lovely. “Mother, it’s been a century about, hasn’t it?” 

“Not that long,” Lucien replied with a laugh, gesturing for Elain to come over. “Thought I’d bring my mate to the city, show her around.” 

Despite the other man’s massive size, he shook Elain’s hand gently, tilting his chin in a small bow. “And you bring the poor girl here?” He was shaking his head, clicking his tongue as he addressed her. “The eastern territories are much nicer.” 

“Guess I’ll force him to take me there next,” Elain smiled and she saw a dark blush stain his light brown cheeks as she spoke. “I’m Elain,” she introduced, not bothering with last names or titles. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, back to business, gesturing around his forge. Elain was instantly drawn to the battle axes leaning against the wall, although they were all probably much too heavy for her to lift. 

Lucien scrunched his nose, “I was hoping to show Elain some of our more interesting Autumn magic, maybe buy myself a dagger.” 

Castor huffed a laugh. “More knives? I suppose you haven’t changed all that much.” He faced Elain, amusement lining his handsome features. “Eris used to drag your poor mate here to watch me make weapons, he’d sit right on the counter, legs crossed, the most well behaved youngling I’d ever seen.” He shook his head at the memory, and Elain could imagine it clearly. She knocked her shoulder playfully against Lucien’s arm. 

“Eris swears I was a little monster,” Lucien laughed, thinking about some of the better times in his past, Elain was sure. 

“Your brother’s a liar,” Castor waved a hand dismissively, “I should know.” He flashed Elain a shy smile, another blush on his cheeks as he made his way behind the counter once more. “Take a look around,” he offered, “let me finish the blade I was working on and I’ll be right with you.” He was doing it for her benefit, surely, and Elain was glad he was taking the time to do so. She had not expected kindness in the Autumn Court, but was increasingly surprised by how much she liked spending time in a place she had been convinced she would despise. 

Elain watched with fascination as Castor forged the long piece of metal into a sword. Time passed, but she could not be sure how much. He explained in great detail what he was doing, and she enjoyed the small lesson. Lucien told her about the history of blacksmiths in Autumn, declaring with great confidence that they had the best metalworkers in all of Prythian. Elain believed him, unsure how anyone could be more talented than those who possessed flame in their blood. 

Once Castor had finished with the sword, Lucien took Elain to a shelf with daggers, asking for her opinion on which one was nicest. She chose one with diamonds along the silver hilt, surprised at how easily her mate encouraged her to swipe at the air with it, doing the same afterwards when he told her to lift one of the battle axes she had been eying. 

The genuine encouragement shocked her momentarily. Elain could not imagine her family allowing her to even touch one in Night. She did not like violence, but she had always been charmed by things that were lovely. 

“You forged all of these?” Elain asked Castor, forgetting herself entirely as she dropped to her knees in front of a particularly beautiful axe. She imagined swinging it at Beron, at how absurd it would have been to any onlookers. She could admit that it would have solved the problem with her and Lucien’s ever more quickly approaching wedding. She traced the ancient writing on the silver, making sure to keep her fingers away from the sharp edge. Castor hummed his response, and Elain smiled back at him. “They’re very pretty.” 

“If you like the axe so much, I can buy it for you,” Lucien offered, she could hear the joke in his tone, feel the amusement that trickled down the bond. Elain would not have been able to lift the axe in front of her even if all their lives depended on it. 

“Maybe next time,” Elain said with a smile, gripping Lucien’s outstretched hand to stand up. She straightened her skirts as Lucien paid for his dagger, and Elain figured it was probably getting late. 

Castor wished them well, ordering them to return again and to tell Eris to show his face in the city more often. As they walked out of the blacksmith’s shop, Elain waved, hoping they would be back soon. It was almost surprising that she would want such a thing, especially since when she imagined returning, Lucien was at her side. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, deciding it would be best to examine it at a different time. 

“You up for one last stop?” Lucien asked, offering her his arm like a perfect gentleman. 

Elain hooked her elbow through his, smiling as she nodded her head. 

Once again, he led her through quieter streets, and now that the sun was just about ready to hide behind the horizon, torches slowly sparked to life as faeries rushed home for the evening. 

Lucien turned a corner and Elain would have stopped in her tracks to marvel at the sight in front of them had he not continued his steady steps forward. 

There were no more shops and houses, no more people, only endless forest. Different types of trees created a thick maze, one Elain would not have dared approach otherwise. It was ancient, thrumming with a magic she recognised as belonging to Lucien, to his family. 

The path they were walking on was lined with jewelweed and it did not end until it reached a fountain carved from pale stone, the last faerie-made object before Autumn overtook her line of sight. 

It was romantic, so thoughtful. No one had ever done anything so kind for her, certainly not anyone she had been courting. She had to remind herself that Lucien was doing no such thing, that they were simply good friends spending a day together. 

Water fell from each layer of stone, but it looked like burnished gold, like something out of a story. She could not help the breathless “oh” that fell from her lips, moving away from her mate and towards the fountain. 

“From the coins,” Lucien explained. “One wish in exchange for a mark made of gold.” With a flash of his sunbright magic, two coins appeared in his hand and he offered them to her with a little bow at the waist. 

Elain was so unbelievably grateful for the effort he had gone to in order to show her the place he had been raised in, her heart was pounding as her eyes fell to the male she had never wanted as her mate. 

My mate. 

Elain did not reach for the coins, she simply got onto the tips of her toes. Placing her hand on Lucien’s shoulder to keep her balance, she heard as the breath caught in his throat, she felt as shock filtered down the bond. 

Elain pushed aside her nerves, let her eyes flutter shut, as she gently pressed her lips to the corner of Lucien’s mouth. She was not yet bold enough to take the things she wanted, her upbringing warring with instinct. 

“Lucien,” she said softly as his one hand came to rest on her waist. She kissed him again, in the same spot, feeling the scar that cut through his full bottom lip. She urged him to take control, pressed herself entirely against him. He was familiar and she was struck with the feeling that she had known him in a different life, that the fates existed and she would have found a way to meet Lucien under any circumstances. 

Lucien’s hand fell to her hip and he brushed his mouth against hers. Elain wrapped an arm around his neck, the taste enough to make her release a whimper. She could hardly remember the last time anyone had made her feel good about herself, confident. 

Elain returned the kiss, starved for her mate, desperate to be closer to him. She traced the seam of his lips with the smallest flick of her tongue, pulling away as pure desire roared through her veins. Unable to face Lucien just yet, she put her face against his chest, and he hugged her in return. 

“Today was really nice,” she murmured, an understatement. She would remember the day they had spent together for the rest of her immortal life, would look back on it fondly, with no regrets. Elain felt as he hummed in response, the sound ringing in her ears. “Thank you,” she added. 

“You still want to make your wish?” Lucien asked, his voice strained. Elain smiled at the effect she seemed to have on him, glad that it was at least mutual. 

She moved away, letting her fingers trail along his shoulder before she reached for the gold coins he held out for her. His heart was beating rapidly, the rhythm matching her own. 

Elain took the one coin, still not meeting his eyes. She tucked a stray curl behind her pointed ear, biting her lip. “What should I wish for?” 

“For whatever you like,” he replied with an elegant shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone after.” He tossed the golden mark, and Elain’s ears strained to hear the sound of it hitting the water. She was curious as to what he might have wished for, but she knew the superstition and feared he would simply tell her if she asked him to share. 

Elain took a deep breath, considering her wish carefully. She hoped Lucien and her could return to the city, that they could spend more time together exploring the Autumn Court. 

Elain traced the rim of the coin with her finger, confident in her wish. She could feel Lucien’s eyes on her as she threw it towards the fountain. 

Elain watched as the coin seemed to flash in the light of the setting sun, falling into the gentle stream of water, golden like the bridge that connected her soul to Lucien’s.