#cs long distance

[cameronsbabydoll]

military!rafe waking up to reader dj-ing her vj after a long day of getting back home from deployment , nd she doesn’t realize that he’s in bed cs he got home in the middle of the night , so rafe teaches her how to finger herself for when he’s gone

-💌

military!rafe teaching his wife how to touch herself ꪆৎ

you didn’t hear the front door open.

didn’t hear the boots hit the floor, the keys drop, or the long, exhausted sigh he let out when he saw your shoes by the stairs.

he’d gotten back earlier than expected—middle of the night, body aching, throat dry from sand and distance and missing you.

and now, hours later, he’s awake in bed, one eye cracked open as he watches you move under the covers.

you don’t even know he’s there.

had no idea he'd be home this soon.

you just… couldn’t sleep. your body buzzing. missing him. bad.

soft little sighs slip from your lips, breath hitching with every slow touch, every roll of your hips against your hand.

and rafe—sleep-heavy and silent—just watches for a second. soaking it in. his girl, spread out and so needy for him, and she doesn’t even know he’s there.

until he speaks. low. hoarse.

“that how you touch yourself when i’m gone, baby?”

you gasp—actually gasp—eyes flying open in the dark, hand freezing under the sheets.

“r-rafe?”

he’s already sitting up, eyes dark and locked on you.

“keep goin’,” he murmurs, voice gravel. “let me see.”

your cheeks burn, but your fingers twitch—obedient. like they’re more scared of disappointing him than you are.

“you ever make yourself come like this?” he asks, leaning in close. the sheets rustle. you nod, barely.

he tsks. shakes his head.

“lemme show you how it’s done,” he mutters, already slipping your hand away, replacing it with his own—warm, calloused, experienced.

his lips find your ear as he moves slow and deep and precise.

“pay attention, sugar. gonna teach you right. so next time i’m gone, you don’t gotta guess.”

and he does.

step by step. with nothing but his voice and his fingers and the weight of missing you for months.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Three Cs: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @dizzybee03 @nowandajenn

Companion piece to:

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about you.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

There are three Cs in Al-Anon.

I don’t cause it.

I can’t control it.

I can’t cure it.

Frank hits every single one of them as you sit across from each other in his kitchen, nursing cups of decaf tea. It’s something he’s been drinking to wind down after work, to offset the caffeine that he consumes during his shift. The act of switching to decaf signals that it’s time to relax, which in turn has helped him to develop a better sleeping pattern. It’s just one of the healthier changes he’s made in his life since rehab.

“You didn’t make me an addict.” He assures you as your fingertips tap out an anxious tune upon the surface of the table. “It started after I helped my parents move, remember I tweaked my back?”

You do remember that, you also remember the opiates they put him on, your concerns about the addictiveness of them. He’d laughed it off because he was a doctor, he knew better.

He had… until he hadn’t.

“There was nothing you could have done to stop it.” He tells you, his thumb tracing over the Steelers logo on his mug. “I was in complete denial until the investigation. I didn’t believe I had a problem, not when I almost killed us both in the car, not when I was crawling out of my skin from withdrawal, not until the night…”

He pauses and looks away and you know he’s talking about the overdose, the one that fucked you up so badly you still re-live it in your dreams.

“You scared the fuck out of me that night.” You find yourself saying. “I thought you were going to die, that I’d killed you by leaving. I carried that guilt around with me for so long…”

“You have nothing to feel guilty for.” Frank asserts, setting his mug down. He clasps his hands together on the surface of the table, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You couldn’t have cured me Ivy, even if you had stuck around. I needed to hit rock bottom, to see the hole I created, I needed to dig myself out.”

“And how’s that going?” You ask, cradling your own mug to your chest. The heat radiates against your skin, warming you from the inside out. “You must have hit your year right? Don’t they give you a coin for that?”

“It’s a chip.” He says, picking up his wallet. He flicks it open, withdrawing a gold chip before he hands it to you. You grasp it tightly in your palm, your gaze coming to rest on photograph still residing in the see through pocket. It’s from the day the two of you went hiking in Frick Park, you’d watched the sunset from a grassy knoll and Frank had told you that he loved you, that he would always love you.

“I’m trying to let go.” He tells you with a sad smile as you give the coin back. “I know you’re moving on and I’m happy for you-”

“I’m not moving on.” You say, shaking your head in response to his words. “I go out on dates but they don’t mean anything because they’re not the man I want to be spending time with. They don’t light that fire in me that you do, even now with so much distance between us, there’s still so much chemistry, so much love, I can feel it everytime I look at you…”

You swallow hard against the ache that’s growing in your chest, your eyes stinging.

“I’m still in love with you Frank and I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to get past it.”

“Maybe you don’t get past it.” Frank says reaching out to take your hand. His fingers entwine with yours and it feels like you can breathe again for the first time in over a year. “Maybe it’s time we take a step forward and try something new.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[okayrudemuch]

abby anderson as your childhood best friend to lovers headcanons 🪻

🪻 Abby and you grew up together, always side by side.

🪻 You have been in love with Abby for years. You don't even know when it hit you exactly that you feel more for her than just friendship. You hide it almost perfectly tho, convinced, that she doesn't feel the same .

🪻 Abby has no clue about your feelings, falling asleep next to you while holding your hand, letting you braid her hair, and resting her head on your shoulder after a long patrol is absolutely normal for her.

🪻 Abby would realize that you are slowly bringing some distance between yourself and her after she told you about Owen, but she'd be too dumb to understand why.

🪻 She'd freak out on the inside, missing you so much when you tell her the fifth day in a row that you can't go to the gym with her because you're busy or are already assigned to another patrol group.

🪻 She'd slowly realise how much she missed you and would get jealous when she sees you laughing with other people because why can you have fun with them and won't even talk to her anymore, she is your best friend duuh.

🪻 It would take her a while to figure out what she is truly feeling and it absolutely shakes her world but she can't deny it, not when she is watching you every day in the dining hall, laughing with other people while she feels like she could vomit her food right back on the table.

🪻She'd take you by your wrist at a party a week later and drag you out of the room after you didn't speak to her all night. She confronts you in the hallway and while she does that she accidentally tells you that she is in love with you.

🪻 You guys are close in that stupid tiny hallway and Abby is already in your space and takes a step closer when you can't do anything but stare at her eyes and lips after her confession.

🪻 She'd murmur "fuck it" and she'd kiss you like she regrets every second where she didn't do exactly that, like she needs your lips to be able to breath. Your back pressed against the wall and her hands and lips all over you.

🪻 She would obviously end things with Owen (that lil shoe already assumed that there was sth sapphic going on with Abby) and she'd plan a little cute date after you talked about everything.

🪻 She would treat you so good, she'd spoil you and show you how much she loves you at every chance she gets.

🪻 You'd be the happiest girl in the world period.

(I was partying all night cs my bestie got married but for some reason it was really important to me to finish these before I go to sleep??)

[hereforuconnwbb]

Unexpected Halt - CHAPTER SEVEN

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

~paige plays for uconn and azzi plays for stanford~

word count: 10.2k

warning: language, drugs, alcohol

hey yall sorry i kept you guys waiting but here chapter 7 !!! i honestly dk if i like this and if this chapter even makes sense but i js wanted to get something out cs like this is my downfall 🥲 sooooooo um hopefully its ok and hopefully u guys enjoy 😽

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month had passed, and somehow, things between Paige and Azzi had only gotten stronger.

What started as late-night FaceTime calls and Fortnite sessions had turned into something even more effortless. They talked every day, whether through texts, calls, or the occasional voice memo when one of them was too busy to type. They had settled into a rhythm—one that felt natural, easy, and theirs.

Paige had always known she cared about Azzi, but now? It felt deeper. Stronger. More real. It wasn’t just playful teasing and stolen moments anymore—it was falling asleep on the phone together, waking up to good morning texts, and knowing that, no matter what, they were each other’s person.

Azzi felt it too. She had never been the type to open up easily, but with Paige, she didn’t have to try. Being with her felt like second nature, like something she had always been meant to do. And even though they were still apart more often than not, it never felt like distance. Because no matter where they were, they chose each other.

—------------

Paige’s phone buzzed next to her as she sat at her desk, trying to focus on some homework. She glanced at the screen, but the number was unfamiliar. The message that popped up was vague, but something about it made her stomach twist.

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s been a while.

Paige frowned, unsure who it could be. She quickly typed back,

Paige: Who is this?

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown Number: You really don’t recognize me? You used to call me your best friend.

Paige hesitated, her mind racing as she tried to place the voice behind the message. It didn’t feel like a random number, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Paige: I’m not sure. Why are you texting me?

The person didn’t hesitate to respond, their tone increasingly familiar.

Unknown Number: You always said we’d talk again someday. I never wanted things to end like they did.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, recognition slowly dawning on her. Her breath caught as a name bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Paige: Wait… Lexi?

There was a long pause before the response came, almost as if Lexi had been waiting for Paige to remember.

Lexi: You remember me. I’ve missed you so much. I tried to move on, but it’s been hard.

Paige’s pulse quickened, irritation bubbling up. She hadn’t heard from Lexi in months, not since their messy breakup. Lexi had never been good at letting go, and Paige had known that from the start.

Paige: Lexi, this is not okay. Why are you texting me after all this time? I’ve moved on. You need to stop.

Lexi: Move on? Who are you with now, Paige? You’re still not with that girl, right?

Paige froze. She didn’t want to give Lexi any details, but something about the way she asked made her feel uneasy. She typed back quickly.

Paige: That’s none of your business.

Lexi: Oh, I get it. You think I don’t know what’s going on in your life. You’ve always had a way of pushing people away when they get too close.

Paige’s grip on her phone tightened. The old frustration she felt with Lexi resurfaced, the constant need to control and manipulate every situation.

Paige: Stop trying to make me feel guilty. I’m in a relationship, and I’m happy. Can’t you just leave me alone?

There was a pause, the silence stretching between them. Paige could feel the weight of Lexi’s unspoken response, almost like a threat hanging in the air.

Lexi: You think you’re happy, but you’ll always come back to me, Paige. I know you better than anyone. You can’t just forget me like that.

Paige’s blood ran cold, and she couldn’t stop herself from sending a harsh reply.

Paige: You need to stop. I don’t want you in my life anymore, Lexi.

Before she could put her phone down, a new message popped up, this time more insistent and almost demanding.

Lexi: You’re mine, Paige. You always will be. Don’t pretend like you’re in control. I’m coming for you again.

Paige stared at the words, her heart pounding. Something about the way Lexi spoke sent a chill down her spine. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the feeling of being trapped by her past lingered.

She didn’t respond. The messages kept coming, each one more desperate, more possessive. But Paige knew she had to stop before it escalated further.

With a sigh, she tossed her phone onto her bed, standing up and pacing around her room for a few moments. The anger bubbling in her chest was still fresh, but something else gnawed at her too—a sense of dread. What if Lexi didn’t let this go? What if she started trying to come between her and Azzi?

The door to her room creaked open, and KK and Ice popped their heads inside, both of them giving her knowing smirks. “You good, P?” Ice asked, her voice teasing but with a hint of concern behind it.

Paige sighed again, running a hand through her hair. “No,” she muttered, walking over to her desk and sitting down. She could feel Ice and KK’s eyes on her, already reading the situation. Ice crossed her arms, while KK leaned against the doorframe, both of them waiting for Paige to speak.

“I got a message from Lexi,” Paige said quietly, her voice almost reluctant. She wasn’t used to talking about her past with them, but it was clear they weren’t going to leave until she opened up. “She… she’s been trying to reach me again.” She could feel the frustration rising in her chest as she spoke. “I don’t know how she even got my number. It’s like she’s been waiting for me to fall back into her trap.”

Ice raised an eyebrow. “Lexi? That’s the ex who almost fucked everything up, right?”

Paige nodded, her jaw tightening. “Yeah. She’s the one who—” She stopped herself, realizing she didn’t want to dredge up everything right now. The memories of the toxic relationship, the fights, the manipulation—it felt like opening a door she was trying to keep locked.

KK stepped into the room fully, a little more serious now. “Okay, but what’s going on with her? I thought she was out of your life for good. You’ve been pretty happy lately, with Azzi, right?” Her voice softened as she said Azzi’s name, her tone light but also understanding—especially now that she and Ice had figured out Paige and Azzi had been dating for a while now.

Paige took a deep breath, swallowing her frustration before it bubbled over. “She says she misses me. She wants to get back together, but it’s like… she doesn’t get it. I don’t feel that way anymore. I want to be with Azzi. But Lexi… she’s not just gonna let go. She’s already starting shit, making me feel like I owe her something.”

“You don’t owe her anything,” Ice interjected sharply, her eyes hardening. “I swear, Paige, if this bitch tries to pull you back in, we’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

Paige nodded, grateful for her friends’ support. “I know. But the thing is, Lexi doesn’t care about boundaries. She’s been texting me these creepy, possessive things. Telling me she knows I’m with someone else now, but she’s not letting me go. It’s like she thinks I’m hers.”

KK’s face softened with sympathy. “She’s unhinged,” she said bluntly. “And I know that’s scary, but you don’t have to deal with this alone. You’ve got us, and you’ve got Azzi. Lexi’s not gonna break you down.”

Paige chuckled bitterly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I know. But the way she’s acting… I’m worried she might try something. She’s the type to do something crazy.”

Ice’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “We’ll keep an eye on her for you,” she said. “But Paige, don’t forget—you are the one in control of this. Lexi might have messed with your head before, but you’re not the same person now. You’ve got your life with Azzi. You’ve got your own support system. You don’t have to let her worm her way back in.”

“Yeah,” Paige murmured, her chest tightening with a mix of relief and unease. “I just don’t want to cause problems for Azzi. She’s already been through enough with me, and the last thing I want is for her to get caught up in this mess.”

“I get that,” KK said, her voice softer now. “But Azzi’s not stupid. She’ll have your back. Just make sure you’re not pushing her away when you’re dealing with this. Communication is key.”

Paige nodded, the weight on her chest lessening slightly at her friends’ words. “I know. I just—she doesn’t deserve any of this. Lexi doesn’t get to just show up and ruin everything.”

A tense silence filled the room as Paige tried to steady herself, but Ice and KK didn’t push her further. They stood by her, their expressions supportive, not prying but offering comfort in the way they knew best.

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Paige continued, her tone firm as she stood up, her mind made up. “If she crosses the line, I’ll shut it down. But I’m not letting her tear down what I have with Azzi. Not this time.”

Ice gave her a single, approving nod. “Good. You’ve got this, Paige. And if Lexi shows up anywhere near you again, you let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

Paige felt a wave of gratitude. No matter what Lexi tried, she wasn’t in this alone anymore. She had Azzi, Ice, and KK. And together, they would make sure that Lexi didn’t stand a chance.

Paige walked over to her phone, scrolling through the messages from Lexi one more time before deleting the entire thread. No more. It was time to shut that door for good.

But in the back of her mind, the unsettling feeling remained. The storm hadn’t passed yet, and Paige knew that things were about to get even more complicated.

—------------

The next day, after a restless night filled with too many thoughts, Paige finally found the time to call Azzi. Her fingers hovered over the phone screen, hesitating for just a second as she tried to decide how to bring it up. She didn’t want to drag Azzi into this mess, but she knew she couldn’t keep it from her. Not when things with Lexi were escalating.

Azzi picked up on the second ring, her voice soft but warm. “Hey, baby,” she greeted, a smile practically audible in her tone. “How’s it going?”

Paige took a deep breath, settling back into her bed as she tried to clear her head. “Hey, Azzi. I need to talk to you about something. Something’s been going on, and I don’t want to keep it from you.”

Azzi’s tone shifted immediately, the concern evident in her voice. “What’s wrong, Paige? You sound serious.”

Paige bit her lip, feeling the weight of the conversation already pressing down on her. “It’s about my ex… Lexi.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Your ex?” Azzi’s voice was cautious, unsure. “You don’t really talk about her much, so I’m guessing she’s not someone you want to talk about.”

Paige nodded, though Azzi couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I haven’t talked to her in a while, but recently, she started reaching out again.” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain it all without making it sound like she was trying to pull away from Azzi. “She’s… been trying to get back into my life. But it’s not just normal texting. It’s… well, it’s obsessive. She’s sending me messages, saying she misses me, saying she wants to get back together.”

Azzi’s voice softened, a note of sympathy slipping through. “That sounds… not great. But I’m guessing it’s more than just texts?”

Paige’s chest tightened as she replied, “Yeah, it is. She’s been sending weird stuff. Like, she knows I’m with someone else now, and she’s making it clear she doesn’t care. It’s like she’s trying to worm her way back in, even though I’ve made it clear I don’t want that.”

Azzi’s heart thudded in her chest. Her instinct was to protect Paige, to wrap her up in the safety of her own arms. She could hear the tension in Paige’s voice, and it made her ache for her. “I’m sorry, Paige. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have someone like that in your life, especially when you’re trying to move forward. But you’ve got me, okay? I’m here for you.”

Paige smiled faintly at the reassurance, but the nagging feeling at the back of her mind didn’t ease. “It’s just… she’s not letting go. And it’s like she doesn’t get the boundaries. I’ve blocked her number, but she somehow keeps getting through. And now she’s just… I don’t know. I’m worried she might do something stupid. She’s the type to make a scene if she doesn’t get what she wants.”

Azzi’s heart clenched at the thought of Paige being stalked or harassed. She wanted to be there for her, but this situation felt out of her control. “Have you told her to stop? Have you told her to stay away?”

“I have,” Paige said, her voice strained. “But it’s like she doesn’t care. She’s not listening. And now… now I’m worried she’s going to try something while I’m out or… or when I’m with you. I won’t let her ruin this, but I’m not sure what to do next.”

Azzi felt a rush of emotion—protectiveness, worry, even anger—and she knew in that moment that she couldn’t let Paige deal with this on her own. “You’re not alone in this, Paige. You’ve already been through enough with her. But I want you to promise me something.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

“Promise me that if she tries anything again, we’ll try to figure it out together. I don’t care who she is or what she wants. I’m not going to let anyone threaten us or what we’ve got.”

Paige’s chest swelled with gratitude at Azzi’s words. “I promise. And I’ll keep you in the loop, always. I don’t want to keep things from you. But I just don’t want to bring this stress into what we have. You mean so much to me, Azzi. I just want us to stay happy.”

Azzi’s heart softened at that, her voice lowering to a tender whisper. “I know, babe. And we will be happy. No one’s going to mess that up. Not Lexi, not anyone.”

Paige could feel the warmth in Azzi’s words, and for the first time that day, she felt like maybe everything would be okay. They’d face whatever came next together, no matter how complicated it got. Paige didn’t want to burden Azzi with the weight of her past, but it felt good to know that Azzi was standing by her side.

“You’re right,” Paige said, her voice steadier now. “I don’t want to let this ruin what we have. Thank you, Azzi. For everything.”

“Always, P,” Azzi replied softly. “Always.”

The call continued with a few more quiet words, both of them reassured, though the unease still lingered. Paige knew the situation with Lexi wasn’t over yet. But with Azzi by her side, it didn’t feel quite as impossible to handle. She just had to make sure that nothing—and no one—would threaten what they had together.

And that meant keeping her ex at bay. No matter the cost.

—------------

Paige had just set her phone down after hanging up with Azzi, the warmth of their conversation still lingering in her chest, when the screen lit up with a new notification. A text. Lexi.

She hesitated for a moment, staring at the name on the screen. Her thumb hovered over the message for several seconds before she finally unlocked her phone and read the text.

Lexi: “I’m still waiting for you to talk to me, Paige. I know you’re mad, but you know this isn’t over. I’m not giving up on us.”

The words hit Paige like a punch in the gut, but her fingers didn’t shake. It was like a familiar ache now, the kind she’d grown numb to over the years.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of irritation and concern flooding her system. It had only been a few hours since she last dealt with Lexi’s relentless messages, and now here she was again, pushing all her buttons.

Paige didn’t want to respond, didn’t want to get sucked back into whatever chaos Lexi was creating. But the text lingered in her mind, the old patterns creeping back in.

A second message popped up almost immediately after, this one more forceful, the text bold with desperation.

Lexi: “I know you’re ignoring me, but you can’t hide forever. You need to talk to me. I miss you, and you know it. Don’t push me away, Paige. Please.”

Paige’s jaw tightened as she read it, every word making her more frustrated. Lexi was pushing her again, testing the limits, as if Paige owed her something. She didn’t. Not anymore.

But as she stared at the messages, her fingers itched to respond. She wanted to tell Lexi exactly what she thought of her, but she knew better. Lexi thrived on that chaos, on the drama. Paige had to shut it down.

With a deep breath, Paige typed out a quick, sharp reply.

Paige: “This has to stop, Lexi. Like I said before, I’m with someone else now, and you need to respect that. We’re done.”

She hit send, staring at the screen as if the words would make everything go away. But the phone buzzed again, almost immediately.

Lexi: “You think I care about that? You’re mine, Paige. You always were. And you know that.”

Paige’s stomach churned. She could feel the anger building up, the frustration of dealing with Lexi’s obsession. She knew she shouldn’t engage, knew it only gave Lexi what she wanted, but it was hard not to. She couldn’t just let this go. Not now.

Paige: “I’m telling you for the last time. Leave me alone, Lexi.”

Paige’s fingers trembled as she hit send, the message final. She locked her phone and tossed it onto the bed, running a hand through her hair as her mind raced. She hated dealing with this. It was exhausting.

But then, just as she was about to turn away, the phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t help herself. She picked it up, the familiar dread creeping up her spine.

Lexi: “You’re not going to just walk away from me, Paige. I won’t let you. You’ll regret this.”

Paige stared at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest. The words weren’t a threat, but they felt like one. And for the first time, she felt that old sense of unease creeping back, like maybe Lexi wasn’t finished yet.

Taking a deep breath, Paige shut the phone off and shoved it into the drawer. She was done. For now. But she knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.

No matter what it took.

—------------

Paige sat in her room, still feeling the lingering tension from Lexi’s messages. She had tried to push it out of her mind, but it kept coming back, haunting her like a shadow. She stared at her phone, but the screen remained off, as if it could hold the chaos at bay. But even without checking her messages again, the weight on her chest didn’t lift.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Ice? KK?” she called, half-expecting them.

The door creaked open, and Ice leaned in, her eyes scanning Paige’s face as if looking for something. “You good?” she asked, her voice soft but perceptive. “You’ve been kind of off today.”

KK stood behind Ice, her arms crossed, already knowing what was going on. She glanced between them, noticing Paige’s distant expression. “Lexi texted you again, huh?” she said, matter-of-factly.

Paige’s eyes shot to KK’s. She didn’t even need to ask how they knew—she had been avoiding them for the past few hours, and they were always on the lookout for when something was off.

“I’m fine,” Paige said, but even she knew it was a half-lie. She let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just… I don’t know, guys. She won’t leave me alone. It’s driving me crazy.”

Ice and KK exchanged a quick glance before Ice spoke again, her voice sympathetic. “I get it. She’s relentless. But you can’t let her get under your skin like this. She doesn’t deserve your energy.”

“I know,” Paige muttered, rubbing her temples. “I just… I don’t know how to make her stop.” She paused, meeting Ice’s gaze. “It’s like every time I think it’s over, she pulls me back in.”

KK leaned against the doorframe, her expression softening. “It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best to cut ties. You just need to let go.” She crossed her arms, her tone turning teasing as she tried to lighten the mood. “But hey, maybe we should get you out of here, clear your head. You in the mood for a little Ted’s night?”

Paige hesitated for a moment. She really didn’t want to go out, but she knew Ice and KK weren’t going to let her stew in her own thoughts. And honestly, she could use a distraction.

“I mean, I guess I could use a drink,” Paige said, trying to force a smile. “But only if I don’t have to talk about Lexi.”

“You’re not gonna have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” Ice promised, giving Paige a knowing look. “Come on, it’ll be good for you. The team’s going, and I’m sure the usual chaos will help take your mind off things.”

Paige nodded reluctantly. “Alright, fine. I’ll come.”

KK grinned. “That’s the spirit. You need a night to just be around your people and forget the drama for a bit.” She winked at Paige, her usual playful energy filling the space. “And trust me, we’ll make sure Lexi doesn’t cross your mind.”

With that, Paige stood up, following Ice and KK as they headed toward the door.

As they walked down the hall, Paige couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. The weight of Lexi’s messages was still there, but for the first time in a while, it felt like she was taking a step away from it, even if just for the night. Maybe being at Ted’s with the team would help her forget, even if just for a few hours. She could use a break from everything.

“I’ll text Azzi when we get there,” Paige said, though she didn’t feel entirely comfortable keeping her girlfriend in the dark about what was going on. But she also didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily, especially when there wasn’t much to say yet.

KK looked at Paige with a raised eyebrow. “You sure? I mean, you can tell her if you need to.”

Paige sighed, adjusting her hoodie. “Yeah, I’ll just let her know I’m out with you guys. It’s better than overloading her right now. I’ll figure it out.”

Ice and KK exchanged another glance, but they didn’t press the issue. They could tell Paige just wanted to focus on getting her mind off things. As they made their way toward the door to leave, Ice gave Paige a gentle nudge. “Come on, Paige. Let’s just have fun tonight. No stress.”

“Yeah, no stress,” KK added, a smile on her face. “It’s Ted’s, after all.”

And with that, Paige found herself stepping out of the room, allowing herself to enjoy a brief, fleeting moment of normalcy. The night ahead wasn’t going to solve everything, but maybe, just maybe, it would help her breathe a little easier.

—------------

When Paige and the crew arrived at Ted’s, the usual buzz of noise filled the air—laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of music in the background. It was the perfect place for a night of distraction, and Paige was grateful for it. She pushed the thoughts of Lexi aside for now, focusing on the familiar faces and the chaos that always came with a night at Ted’s. But as they walked in, Paige’s eyes immediately scanned the room.

There, sitting at the bar, was Lexi.

Paige’s stomach dropped, and she had to stop herself from turning around and walking right out the door. Lexi was a force—impossible to ignore, and clearly, she hadn’t gotten the memo that Paige needed space. Lexi’s striking features were just as familiar as they had been the first time Paige laid eyes on her, but now they made Paige’s heart race in a way she didn’t want it to. Her dark hair was styled into loose waves, falling perfectly over her shoulders, and she wore a tight-fitting black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. The bold red lipstick she always favored was perfectly applied, standing out against her brown skin. She looked effortlessly beautiful, but to Paige, it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

Lexi’s gaze lifted from her phone as Paige’s eyes met hers. A slow, almost smirking smile spread across her lips, and Paige felt the weight of it. The realization that Lexi had been watching her, waiting for the right moment to strike, was suffocating. She couldn’t just ignore it.

“Shit,” Paige muttered under her breath, though Ice and KK were too busy talking to hear. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Paige made a beeline for the bar, pretending like she hadn’t just seen her ex. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the tightness in her throat. She hadn’t been prepared to see Lexi here, not after everything. It felt like a punch in the gut, like everything she’d worked to move on from was right in front of her again.

As she reached the bar, she tried to keep her voice steady. “Hey, can I get a drink?” she asked the bartender, trying to keep her focus on something, anything other than Lexi.

Lexi, of course, didn’t waste a second. “Paige,” she said smoothly, her voice a bit too sweet, too familiar. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Paige’s jaw tightened, but she kept her face neutral. She didn’t want to give Lexi the satisfaction of seeing how much she was rattled. “I’m fine,” she replied coolly, leaning against the bar, her eyes scanning the room to avoid any direct contact with Lexi. “I’m just here to hang with some friends.”

Lexi raised an eyebrow, her smirk never faltering. “I see that,” she said, glancing over Paige’s shoulder at Ice and KK, who were at the far end of the bar, joking around and ordering drinks. “Are they really who you need to be with right now, though? You know you could be doing so much better.”

Paige clenched her fists. The audacity of this woman never ceased to amaze her. “I’m good,” she said, her voice flat but firm. “And I’m happy with where I am.”

Lexi’s gaze flickered with something Paige couldn’t quite place—a mixture of irritation and amusement, like she knew she had Paige on edge. “We both know that’s not true,” Lexi purred. “You’re still hung up on me, I can see it in your eyes. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Paige was done with this conversation. “No,” she said sharply, her voice lower than before. “I’m not. I’m over you, Lexi. So whatever game you think you’re playing, I’m not interested. I’m with someone else now, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my life.”

Lexi leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Someone else? That’s cute. I don’t think they can handle you the way I did, Paige. You always come back to me. You know it’s true.”

Paige’s heart hammered in her chest, the familiar rush of old feelings trying to creep in, but she squashed them down with everything she had. She wasn’t going to let Lexi win. She wasn’t going to let her get to her this time.

“No,” Paige said firmly, standing up straighter. “I’m done with you, Lexi. You’ve had your chance. I’m happy now, and you’re not going to ruin that.”

For a moment, Lexi just stared at her, her expression unreadable. Then, she leaned back and smiled, her voice dripping with something dangerous. “You’ll be back. I know you will.”

Paige had heard those words too many times before. She wasn’t going to let Lexi’s words dictate her anymore. With a deep breath, Paige turned her back on Lexi and walked toward her friends, forcing her pulse to slow.

Ice and KK were already halfway through their drinks, completely unaware of the tension Paige had just experienced.

“You good?” Ice asked, catching the look on Paige’s face as she sat down.

Paige forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just have a good time tonight, alright?”

KK raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t push the issue. “If you say so.”

And for now, that’s all Paige could do. Keep pretending she was fine, even though Lexi’s presence hung in the air like a storm cloud, waiting for the right moment to break. Paige would have to be ready for whatever came next.

—------------

The tension in the air at Ted’s continued to simmer, but Paige tried to ignore it. She was already in a better mood than she had been when she first walked in—her friends were here, and the loud atmosphere of the bar made it easier to forget for a while. Still, as the night went on, Paige couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled in her chest after the interaction with Lexi. She tried to focus on the conversation she was having with a random acquaintance at the bar, laughing at their jokes, trying to let the noise drown out the thoughts in her head.

However, as she shifted her attention to the person beside her, she didn’t notice Lexi slip closer, waiting for the perfect moment. In the midst of the banter, when Paige’s attention was fully on the stranger beside her, Lexi subtly leaned over and dropped a small white powder into Paige’s drink. Her eyes flickered toward Paige, watching carefully to see if she noticed. Lexi knew that if Paige had been paying attention, she would’ve caught her. But Paige was too distracted.

Once the drink was mixed and the powder dissolved, Lexi stepped back into the crowd, as though nothing had happened. Paige took a sip of her drink, completely unaware of the malicious act unfolding behind the scenes. She continued chatting, the noise of Ted’s creating the perfect cover.

As the minutes passed, Paige’s head started to feel heavier, like the weight of the world was pressing down on her. It started with a slight dizziness, then a deep, overwhelming sense of fatigue. She shook it off, thinking maybe it was just the alcohol or the long day. But soon, it became harder to keep her focus. The room seemed to sway, and she struggled to follow the conversation she was having.

Before she knew it, she felt her stomach churn. Her breath hitched as nausea crept in, and she quickly stood up, clutching her drink with shaky hands. “I need to go to the bathroom,” Paige muttered to Ice and KK, who were still lost in conversation, not noticing how off she had become. They gave her a quick nod, not thinking twice about it.

She stumbled toward the bathroom, hoping to just get a quick breather and let the sickness pass. But before she could even reach the door, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Lexi’s voice was smooth, and it felt like it came from miles away. Paige’s vision blurred slightly, but she still recognized the familiar voice.

“Yeah… just need to throw up,” Paige mumbled, her voice sounding weaker than she intended. She felt hot, cold, and disoriented all at once. She wanted to push Lexi away, but her body felt like it wasn’t listening to her.

Lexi’s smile was as practiced as ever, and she leaned in closer, her voice low and almost soothing. “I’ll help you,” she said, her hand gently resting on Paige’s back, guiding her toward the bathroom. Paige felt too dizzy to protest and let herself be led.

Inside the bathroom, Paige felt her stomach lurch, and she quickly leaned over the toilet. Her head swam as she emptied her stomach, but all she could focus on was the fact that Lexi was still standing there, far too close. Paige’s mind struggled to keep up, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Lexi said, her voice laced with false sweetness as she rubbed Paige’s back. “Just breathe. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

Paige pushed against the sink, trying to steady herself, but the world around her felt like it was spinning out of control. “I don’t… I don’t feel right,” she muttered, her voice shaking.

Lexi took another step closer, pressing herself against Paige’s side. “I know, sweetie,” she cooed, her hand coming up to gently tuck a strand of Paige’s hair behind her ear. “You’re just a little overwhelmed, that’s all. Just relax. Let me help you.”

Paige wanted to shove her away, but the strength in her limbs felt like it had been drained. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t know what was happening, only that something wasn’t right.

“Don’t… please,” Paige managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She was still trying to push Lexi off, but her movements were sluggish. “I… I don’t want to…”

“Shhh,” Lexi murmured, a wicked glint in her eyes that Paige couldn’t quite register. She was too out of it to fight, her body betraying her. Lexi smiled, as if savoring the moment. “Who’s the lucky one, Paige?” she asked, her tone sugary sweet as she stroked Paige’s cheek. “Who do you have now?”

Paige, still disoriented, blinked at Lexi, trying to clear her mind. “I—” she started to say, but her thoughts felt like they were slipping through her fingers.

And then it happened.

“Azzi,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. Her relationship with Azzi had been on her mind all night, and in her vulnerable state, the words slipped out.

Lexi’s smile turned into a smirk, her eyes lighting up with satisfaction. She’d gotten what she wanted. She quickly leaned forward, whispering in Paige’s ear, her words dripping with malice, “Azzi, huh? That’s cute. I think I can make this work.”

Paige barely registered the words, but she knew she was on the edge of passing out. Everything felt like it was slipping away, the world around her darkening.

“Give me your phone, Paige,” Lexi coaxed, her voice low. “I’ll message her for you. Let me help you. Just give me your passcode, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

Paige was so disoriented that she didn’t even question it. She fumbled for her phone, handing it over without thinking. “Just… don’t… don’t hurt her,” Paige muttered, her eyelids fluttering.

Lexi took the phone from Paige’s hand, entering the passcode quickly. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of everything.”

As Paige’s vision blurred and her consciousness slipped away, she felt the last shred of awareness leaving her. Lexi’s voice faded into the background as the darkness swallowed her whole.

When Paige passed out, Lexi smiled to herself, the plan already forming in her mind. She was going to make sure this wasn’t the last time Paige would come crawling back to her.

Lexi looked down at the phone in her hands, her fingers brushing across the screen with practiced precision. Paige’s phone, now unlocked and in her possession, gave Lexi everything she needed. Her mind worked quickly, the satisfaction of control creeping up her spine as she navigated to the messages between Paige and Azzi.

She knew how much Azzi meant to Paige. She could use that. If she could plant seeds of doubt, if she could make Azzi question things, the crack in their relationship would widen. Lexi smirked as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the words forming in her mind.

Paige had been too trusting, and now she would pay the price.

She started typing, knowing that Azzi would believe it was Paige on the other end of the conversation. The situation was too perfect—Paige had already been distant, distracted, and now with the drugged haze still clouding her mind, she wouldn’t notice the difference between the texts and the way she usually spoke.

Paige: “Azzi, I’ve been thinking… I don’t know if I can keep doing this. You’re great and everything, but lately, I just feel like I’m not as into this as I was before. You’ve been so busy, and I’m feeling kind of neglected.”

Lexi sat back, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she hit send. She watched the message go through, knowing that Azzi would receive it and react just as she’d anticipated. She wasn’t done yet. She had a lot more to say.

She quickly typed again.

Paige: “I don’t know if this is going to work. I mean, maybe we should just take a break or something. I’ve been talking to Lexi a lot more since I saw her at the bar tonight, and she’s been a lot more… understanding. She gets me in ways that you don’t, and maybe I need that right now.”

Lexi read the words before sending them, savoring the delicious satisfaction of knowing how Azzi would react to them. It was a slow burn, and Azzi would feel every inch of the distance growing between her and Paige. She would question everything. All Lexi had to do was make her doubt Paige’s feelings.

She waited for a moment, watching the little dots appear on the screen as Azzi typed. Then her phone buzzed with a new message.

Azzi: “What the hell? Paige, what do you mean you’re not ‘into this’ anymore? You know this isn’t like you. We’ve been through so much, and now you’re just going to throw it all away?”

Lexi felt a rush of satisfaction. Azzi was already reacting the way she expected—hurt, confused, defensive. But she wasn’t done yet. She needed Azzi to feel even more unsteady.

Paige: “I just… I don’t know. Things have changed. I feel like you don’t really care anymore. Maybe you just got too busy with your own life to notice.”

Lexi paused before sending the next message, reading it over and ensuring it would hit hard.

Paige: “Honestly, I don’t want to keep pretending everything’s okay when I’m feeling like this. Maybe I just need someone who can actually be there for me, someone who actually gets it. Lexi does.”

She sent it. The reaction was immediate.

Azzi: “What the hell are you talking about? You want someone who ‘gets you’? You’ve been with me this whole time, and you’ve never acted like this before. Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to throw everything we have away for someone else.”

Lexi smiled wickedly as she read Azzi’s message. She knew exactly what to say next. She was planting the seeds of doubt deep in Azzi’s mind, and she wasn’t going to stop until the damage was done.

Paige: “I just can’t do this anymore, Azzi. You’re not the same person I fell for. I think you’ve changed, and maybe I’ve changed too.”

Lexi sat back, waiting for Azzi’s response, fully aware of the anger and frustration that was about to flood the messages. It wouldn’t be long before Azzi started questioning everything, her insecurities flaring up.

The phone buzzed again.

Azzi: “You’re seriously going to sit here and tell me that after everything we’ve been through? After everything we’ve built, you’re just going to throw it away over something that doesn’t even make sense?”

Azzi: “You’re acting like we don’t talk about our issues. You’re acting like I’m some kind of stranger to you. Is that what you really think? That I don’t care? That you don’t care?”

Lexi let out a soft laugh, watching the messages come through. Azzi’s anger was palpable, and the tension was thick in the air, even through the phone. She was good at this—making someone doubt themselves, making them feel like they weren’t enough.

Paige: “Maybe it’s just easier to let it go. Maybe we were just a fling. Maybe I’m just tired of fighting for something that’s not even there anymore.”

The message was a sharp jab, and Lexi knew it would hurt Azzi, even more than the last one. She was playing her part perfectly, pretending to be Paige, feigning frustration and doubt.

Azzi: “Are you seriously this delusional? You’re acting like we don’t have something real here. What the hell happened to you? This isn’t you, Paige. This isn’t what we had.”

Lexi’s fingers danced across the screen one last time, sending a final blow to the conversation.

Paige: “Maybe it never was. Maybe I was just seeing things that weren’t there, and you were too caught up to notice. I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Paige’s phone buzzed with another message, but Lexi didn’t need to see it. She knew she had done enough to get inside Azzi’s head.

Paige wouldn’t even remember this conversation when she woke up, but Azzi would. And that was the part that mattered most.

Lexi smirked as she turned away, her plan already taking shape. The damage was done.

Paige lay on the floor beside her, unconscious, her body slumped against the toilet, her breathing shallow but steady. Lexi smirked at the success of her deception, knowing the damage was already done.

She was so caught up in her victory that she didn’t hear the bathroom door open. The sound of soft footsteps echoed against the tiled floor before a voice startled her.

“Hey, you okay in here?”

Lexi spun around, eyes narrowing, a flash of irritation crossing her face. A random girl stood in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob, looking at Paige’s unconscious form with raised eyebrows. She looked confused and hesitant.

“Is she okay?” the girl asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

“She’s fine,” Lexi replied quickly, attempting to mask the unease in her voice. “She just drank too much, and she’s out cold for a bit. I’m just waiting for her to wake up.”

The girl stared at Lexi for a moment, clearly unconvinced. She glanced at Paige, then back at Lexi, clearly processing something. “Are you sure? She doesn’t look okay.”

Lexi’s grip tightened on Paige’s phone, her fingers brushing across the screen as if she were holding onto the last bit of control. She offered the girl a forced smile. “Yeah, she’ll be fine. I’m her friend. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl looked skeptical but didn’t press further. She gave Paige one last glance, her brow furrowed in concern, before she shrugged and walked past Lexi, disappearing into one of the bathroom stalls. Lexi sighed in relief, but the momentary unease still lingered.

With Paige still unconscious on the floor, Lexi turned her attention back to the phone. She tapped her fingers on the screen before she saw that Azzi had replied to the last message. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she read Azzi’s response.

Azzi: “What do you mean??? Are you seriously telling me that after everything we’ve been through? Are you trying to push me away, Paige?”

Lexi’s fingers moved quickly, her mind working faster than her conscience. She had to keep the illusion up—had to make Azzi feel even more insecure.

Paige: “I don’t know what I want anymore. Maybe I’ve just been lying to myself, thinking that we could be something more than we are.”

She hit send and sat back, waiting to see Azzi’s reaction.

Azzi’s message popped up almost immediately. Lexi could practically hear the frustration and hurt in Azzi’s words as she read them.

Azzi: “Are you seriously doing this right now? I’m not going to sit here and let you talk like this. I don’t care what’s going on with you, but don’t ever make me feel like I don’t matter to you.”

Lexi smiled. She knew exactly how to push Azzi’s buttons. This was just the beginning. She would make sure that when Paige finally woke up, she would have no memory of what had happened—but Azzi? Azzi would be left wondering if she had done something wrong. She would question everything.

But Lexi wasn’t finished yet.

She glanced at Paige’s body on the floor, the sense of control growing more intoxicating by the second. There was still more to come. But for now, she let the phone sit in her hands, knowing Azzi would continue to argue with “Paige.”

She checked the time on her phone, ensuring that she had a solid window of time to execute her next steps before Paige woke up. Then, she turned her attention back to Azzi’s new message.

Azzi: “You can’t just give up on us like this, Paige. I know there’s more to us. You’re not even giving us a chance to fix it. We’ve always been able to talk through our problems before. Don’t push me away like this.”

Lexi’s smirk deepened. This was going perfectly. She was in control now, and no one—least of all Paige—would know what had happened until it was too late.

The stall door creaked open again, and the same girl stepped out, pausing as she saw Paige still slumped against the wall. Her eyes flickered from Paige’s unmoving form to Lexi, still crouched beside her, holding her phone a little too tightly.

“Are you sure she’s good?” the girl asked again, her voice more firm this time.

Lexi gave a tight-lipped smile, barely holding back her irritation. “Yeah. Like I said, she’s fine. Just had too much to drink. I’ve got it under control.”

The girl hesitated for a second, glancing at Paige again before sighing. “Alright…” she muttered, but her tone wasn’t convinced. She shook her head and walked out, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Lexi exhaled, rolling her eyes. “Nosy bitch,” she mumbled under her breath before turning her attention back to Paige, still unconscious.

And then, an idea struck her.

Her fingers tightened around Paige’s phone as she smirked to herself.

Slowly, she leaned in, tilting Paige’s chin up with her fingers before pressing her lips against hers. The kiss was long enough for what she needed—to make it convincing. Then, with one hand still gripping Paige’s phone, she snapped a picture. The dim lighting of the bathroom cast shadows across the screen, but it was clear enough. Paige’s unconscious form, Lexi’s lips pressed against hers.

Perfect.

She opened Azzi’s chat and attached the image, her smirk deepening as she typed.

Paige: Maybe this is what I really wanted all along.

And with that, she hit send.

A few moments passed before the screen lit up with a response.

Azzi: Are you serious right now? What the fuck is this?

Another message followed almost instantly.

Azzi: I don’t even know what to say to you. You really had me thinking we were building something real, but I guess I was just stupid for believing that.

Lexi bit her lip, trying to contain her satisfaction. The damage was done. Paige wouldn’t even have a chance to explain.

And just in time, because Paige was starting to stir.

A low groan escaped her lips as her fingers twitched against the cold tile. Her breathing hitched as she slowly blinked her eyes open, trying to regain her bearings.

It took her a second to process what was happening—where she was, why she felt like the room was spinning. But the second she registered the feeling of lips on hers, her entire body jerked back.

“What the fuck?” she slurred, her voice groggy, her mind still hazy from whatever was in her system. Her hands instinctively shoved against Lexi’s shoulders, pushing her back.

Lexi let out a small laugh, unfazed. “Finally awake, huh?”

Paige’s head was pounding, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog in her brain. “Why the fuck were you kissing me while I was out? Are you crazy?” Her voice was hoarse, but the anger in it was unmistakable. “I’m in a happy relationship right now. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Lexi tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Well… not anymore.”

Paige’s stomach dropped. “What the fuck does that mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking as she saw Lexi still gripping her phone. Her heart pounded as realization hit her. “What did you do?”

Lexi twirled the phone in her fingers, looking far too pleased with herself. “Just helping you out,” she said smoothly.

Paige’s blood ran cold. “Lexi,” she ground out, her voice dangerously low. “What. The fuck. Did you do?”

Lexi’s expression darkened, her possessiveness bleeding through. “I reminded her that she’s not the only one who’s ever had your attention.”

Paige’s hands shook as she reached for her phone, but Lexi yanked it back.

“I fucking swear, give me my phone,” Paige snapped, her chest tightening with panic.

Lexi smirked, but before she could say anything, the bathroom door swung open again.

The same girl from earlier stepped inside, looking around before her eyes landed on the sink. “Shit, I forgot my phone—” She trailed off as she took in the scene again. Paige now conscious, looking frantic. Lexi standing too close, gripping her phone like a lifeline.

The girl’s eyes narrowed, suspicion growing tenfold.

Paige, taking the moment of distraction, lunged for her phone, snatching it out of Lexi’s hands. She stumbled back, gripping it tightly as she immediately went to her messages.

Her stomach sank the second she saw Azzi’s name wasn’t at the top anymore.

Her fingers shook as she searched her name, only to be met with the dreaded You can’t send messages to this number.

Blocked.

“No,” Paige whispered, her breath hitching. “No, no, no, no—”

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her vision blurring with tears. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

She looked up at Lexi, her expression a mix of fury and devastation. “What the fuck did you do?” she choked out.

Lexi just shrugged. “Guess she didn’t take it too well.”

Paige could barely breathe. This was her worst fucking nightmare. She felt like she was suffocating, the walls of the bathroom closing in on her. She had to fix this. She had to fix this now.

Without another word, she stormed out, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She barely even registered Lexi calling after her.

Her legs carried her toward the bar, searching frantically until she spotted KK and Ice still sitting there.

“I wanna leave,” she blurted out, her voice shaky, desperate.

They turned to her instantly, eyes widening as they took in her disheveled appearance.

“Paige, what happened?” Ice asked, concern heavy in her voice.

“I just—” Paige swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady, but the lump in her throat was suffocating. “I just need to go. Please.”

KK and Ice exchanged a look, silently agreeing.

“We’re leaving with you,” KK said firmly, standing up. “Let’s go.”

Paige didn’t argue. She let them guide her out, her mind spinning, her heart breaking.

She had to fix this.

But she had no idea if she even could.

—------------

Azzi sat on her bed, her hands shaking as she stared at her phone screen. The image was burned into her memory: a picture of Paige, her lips pressed against someone else’s, the smirk on the woman’s face who she seemed to figured it being maybe Lexi, telling her everything she needed to know. The words that accompanied the photo from Paige were cutting. Maybe this is what I really wanted all along.

Her heart felt like it was in a vice, tightening with every passing second. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? What had happened to the person she had fallen for, the one who had said sweet things to her during their late night calls and promised they were in this together?

The sting of betrayal was so sharp it almost hurt to breathe. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she wiped them away angrily. She couldn’t let herself break down. Not now. Not because of her.

But the tears came anyway, and before she could stop them, they were falling, warm and steady down her cheeks. Azzi buried her face in her hands, letting out a sob before sniffling and taking a deep breath.

That was when she heard the door creak open.

“Azzi?” Caroline’s voice was soft, cautious. “Are you okay?”

Azzi didn’t even need to look up to know it was Caroline. The way she entered the room, the hesitant steps, the way her presence seemed to fill up the space with a quiet understanding.

Azzi shook her head, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “I… I don’t know.” She looked up at Caroline, her expression pained, and held her phone out. “Look at this.”

Caroline sat next to her, leaning over to glance at the screen. Her eyes went from the messages to the photo, the last few words that had come from Paige’s number.

Caroline’s lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw setting with silent fury as she glanced back at Azzi. “What the fuck is this, Azzi?” she muttered, clearly pissed. “This… this isn’t like her.”

Azzi shook her head. “I don’t know… I don’t know what happened, Car.” She wiped away more tears, her voice thick with emotion. “Why would she send me this? I thought we were fine. She said we were fine. And now, she’s sending me this.”

Caroline’s eyes lingered on the photo again, narrowing slightly as she thought. Something in her expression seemed off, like she wasn’t entirely convinced by the situation. But she didn’t say anything. She just wrapped an arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her into a comforting hug.

“I’m so sorry, Azzi,” Caroline whispered, her voice soft, yet laced with frustration. “This is fucking messed up. But you don’t deserve this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Azzi nodded numbly, the comfort of Caroline’s embrace a stark contrast to the cold, angry ache in her chest.

A few moments of silence passed before Caroline pulled away slightly, her tone shifting. “Do you want me to message her? Find out what the hell is going on?”

Azzi shook her head immediately. “No,” she said, her voice firm despite the tears still clinging to her eyes. “I don’t want to hear from her right now. I need space. I don’t even know if I want to talk to her anymore.”

Caroline nodded, her eyes softer now, but still full of concern. “Okay. But if you change your mind, I’ll be here. I’m not going to leave you alone with this, alright?”

Azzi took a shaky breath and nodded again, glancing down at her phone. She was still in shock, still reeling from the words she’d read.

She had blocked Paige’s number. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she didn’t think it would feel like this. Her fingers hovered over the phone screen again, wondering if she’d made the right choice. She thought she had been protecting herself, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“I just… I don’t know what happened,” Azzi murmured. “I thought we were getting somewhere. But now this. I feel like I don’t even know her anymore, Caroline.”

Caroline gave her a sympathetic smile, but it was laced with anger. “You deserve better than this, Azzi. Don’t forget that. You’ll figure this out, okay?”

Azzi nodded again, trying to hold herself together. But the more she thought about the picture, the more her stomach twisted. The pain of it was still raw.

Caroline squeezed her shoulder before standing up. “If you need anything, let me know. But I think it’s best to give it some time. She’ll have to come to you if she wants to fix this.”

Azzi watched her leave, her mind still spinning. She knew Caroline was right. But right now, all she could do was try to breathe through the hurt and confusion.

She had to step away, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

—------------

Paige sat on the edge of her bed, her head still spinning. The room felt too warm, the air too thick. Her body was heavy, her movements sluggish, and there was this tight, sick feeling in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Ice and KK had come with her to the room, both of them insisting she sit down while they tried to piece together what had happened. But every time she tried to explain, she felt more lost.

“Paige, what the hell happened?” Ice’s voice was soft, but there was an edge to it that made Paige glance up. Ice looked worried—hell, they both did.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Paige muttered, rubbing her temples. Her head was pounding, and everything felt blurry. “I just… I was at the bar, and I was talking to people, you know, trying to relax after everything. I wasn’t paying attention to my drink—then I felt off. Real off. And then I remember feeling dizzy, and the next thing I know, I woke up in the bathroom with Lexi all over me.”

KK narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Lexi? She was there?” She seemed to already know where this was going, but Paige didn’t know how to explain it.

Paige nodded, the room swaying a little as she shifted. “Yeah… And I didn’t even know what was happening. I don’t even know how long I was out for, but when I woke up, she was kissing me.”

Ice’s jaw clenched. “Jesus. So you’re telling me, while you were out of it, Lexi just… took advantage of you?”

Paige swallowed hard, nodding. She could still feel the nauseous weight of it all pressing against her chest. “Yeah. And then she… I don’t even know how to explain it. She went on my phone and pretended to be me. She messaged Azzi. She sent her a picture of us kissing. Kissing, Ice. And then, after I got my phone back, I tried to message Azzi, but…” Paige trailed off, her throat tightening. “She blocked me.”

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, making her stomach churn all over again. Azzi had blocked her. How was she supposed to fix this when Azzi had blocked her out?

KK and Ice exchanged a look. KK spoke first, her voice carefully measured. “Do you want me to message Azzi for you? Tell her what happened? Maybe she’ll understand if you explain.”

Paige shook her head, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. “No… I don’t want to do that.” She wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t want to hurt her more. I don’t even know how to explain all of this. Azzi’s probably pissed at me, and I don’t blame her. I… I’ve fucked up so badly, KK.”

Paige’s chest tightened again, the pain of not being able to reach Azzi eating away at her.

“Okay,” KK said, her tone softening. “I get it. If you need space, we can give you that. But you need to talk to her, Paige. She deserves to know what really happened. Just… take a breath, yeah?”

Paige exhaled shakily, nodding. “I know. I know I need to fix it, but I don’t even know where to start. I just…” She stopped herself, glancing down at her hands. “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared she won’t want to hear from me. That she’ll just… write me off for good.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Paige,” Ice said, her voice firm but full of compassion. “But don’t let Lexi screw this up for you. You two are good together. You just have to make it right.”

Paige let out a breath, trying to calm the swirling emotions in her head. “I want to make it right. But I can’t force it, you know? I need to give her space. I have to let her come to me when she’s ready.”

KK nodded, understanding. “Alright. But don’t wait too long, Paige. If you care about her, you need to fight for her. Don’t let Lexi win.”

Paige gave them both a small, tired smile. “I’m not gonna let Lexi win. I just need time to figure this out and for her to figure this out as well. The last thing I want is to lose her for good.”

KK and Ice exchanged one last glance before both of them gave Paige a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You got this,” Ice said quietly, before they both left the room, leaving Paige alone with her thoughts.

But as they left, Paige couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in her gut. She had no idea how to fix this. She had no idea what she was even supposed to do next. But one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to let Lexi’s games destroy everything she had with Azzi.

She just hoped Azzi would still give her the chance to prove it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[r3starttt]

ACT TWO

PAIRING: Caitlyn x reader.

SUMMARY: Almost all scenes with Caitlyn during act two but with reader.

CW: mentions of spit. public sex. the cloak stays on. fingering.

01 | 03

AN: the freaky part was heavily inspired on the sex scene from "disobedience" cs I saw the spitting and the yearning and thought... I gotta make this w Cait.

TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @nosferatuv

The space beside you felt strangely cold, an emptiness that whispered of absence and left your half-bare back exposed to the chill of the night. As consciousness seeped in, your senses began to assemble the fragments of the room around you. It was too dark to be early morning, the kind of oppressive blackness that only lingers past midnight, thick and suffocating. You stirred, turning toward the other side of the bed, where loosened strands of hair sprawled behind her thin body, and empty hands absently stroked the sheets, as if seeking solace in the softness.

Caitlyn was there, a ghostly silhouette in the dim light, silent and still, her presence tinged with the kind of melancholy you had grown accustomed to. And you, too, were there—watching her from the shadows of your shared space, your gaze heavy with concern you didn’t know how to voice.

You wore the blouse from her uniform, its crisp lines now crumpled and soft against your skin. It hung loosely on your frame, barely covering the lace lingerie she had kissed hours ago.

It seemed as the tenderness of intimacy was the only thing keeping you together, at least before the weight of her thoughts stole her away.

“Up again?” you murmured, your voice low, thick with sleep and worry, as you pushed the sheets aside and crawled toward her. The playful lilt in your tone was an attempt to lighten the air, though deep down, you doubted it would reach her.

Caitlyn sighed—a sound so delicate it might have shattered had you reached out to touch it. “The city’s not going anywhere,” you added, though your jest hung in the air, unanswered. You watched as her jaw tensed, her shoulders rising with the strain of unspoken burdens. After a moment, she glanced at you over her shoulder, her expression weary but softened by the faintest flicker of acknowledgment.

“I have an audience with the Mason’s Guild first thing in the morning,” her voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy and reluctant. She leaned forward, elbows braced against her thighs, her gaze fixed somewhere on the edge of the bed, as if willing herself to find answers in the shadows there.

You inched closer, your movements deliberate, your fingers itching to reach out and smooth the tension from her frame. The distance between you felt unbeatable despite the scant inches that separated your bodies. You longed to tell her that her city could wait, that the world’s problems didn’t have to rest on her shoulders tonight. Instead, you settled behind her, close enough that your presence brushed against her.

Your hands moved with deliberate tenderness, tracing a path from the small of her back to her tense shoulders, your touch a silent plea for her to release the weight she carried. Resting your cheek against her back, you let out a soft sigh, the warmth of her skin grounding you both. "Let me guess," you murmured, your voice laced with quiet exhaustion, "more complaints about the Noxians."

Her response was a hum, low and distracted, as though her thoughts were a thousand miles away. "They doubled their fortification requests. Again." Her words were clipped, her frown deepening as she leaned away from your touch, though only slightly, as if torn between seeking solace and bearing her burdens alone.

The worry etched into her every movement mirrored your own, and you slid your hands down her arms, letting your fingers squeeze gently at the muscle there. "To keep—" she began.

You interrupted her, cupping her face in your hands, tilting her gaze toward you. Her furrowed brow softened as her eyes met yours, though her weariness remained. "To keep us safe," you finished for her, your tone a mix of reassurance and gentle teasing.

Her lips curved into a tired chuckle, the faint sound bringing a flicker of warmth to the room. She let her gaze drop to your lips before you slid one hand over her shoulder, brushing the fabric of her robe aside. Pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder, you let your other hand drift down, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone before gliding over her chest, the soft fabric of her baby doll yielding beneath your touch.

You rested your chin on her shoulder, close enough to feel the subtle hitch in her breath. Her eyes drifted back to the window in front of her. "I never expected this to go on so long," she admitted as if the weight of such confession won over her inner struggle.

She leaned forward again, slipping from your touch as if retreating into herself. You didn’t follow, didn’t press—some moments called for patience more than presence. "I thought..." Her words faltered, a slight shake of her head betraying her frustration. Her gaze wandered, restless and unfocused. "I don’t know what I thought," she murmured, her lip twitching as she looked away, her posture slumped beneath the invisible weight pressing her down. "Just—it wasn’t this."

Her hands, clasped too tightly together, trembled slightly. Her hair fell in dark waves around her face, half-shielding her from the world until you brushed it behind her ear with the gentlest of touches. You let your fingers intertwine with hers, offering the grounding she seemed to desperately need.

"You could call it off," you suggested. "Withdraw from the underground. Reestablish the council. Cait—" You squeezed her hand, willing her to believe in the simplicity of the solution you offered. "All you have to do is give the order."

For a fleeting moment, her face seemed to brighten, a fragile light breaking through the storm cloud of her thoughts. But then, just as quickly, the light dimmed, replaced by the stubborn resolve you knew too well.

She drew back, her face retreating into shadows, her gaze dropping to where your fingers intertwined. "Not without Jinx," she murmured, and in those words, the anguish crept back into her features like a storm rolling over a calm sea.

Her expression hardened, muscles tightening as though to fortify herself against the vulnerability that had briefly surfaced. She barely met your gaze, her face now the carefully constructed mask she wore for council meetings and political maneuverings. Her tone matched the facade, controlled

and measured.

"Besides, a withdrawal could lead to a worse situation than the one we already face—"

You didn’t let her finish. A quiet smile broke through the weight of her words, your voice light yet tinged with something deeper. "Okay, Ambessa," you teased, hoping the absurdity of the comparison might crack through her shell.

For a moment, it worked. Her lips curved into a reluctant smile, and she shook her head as though dispelling a spell. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, and her fingers squeezed yours with a gentle insistence, grounding both of you in the moment.

You leaned closer, pressing your lips to her bare shoulder, the warmth of her skin a quiet comfort against your own. Her hand tightened around yours briefly, a fleeting sign of reciprocation, before she tapped your thigh lightly, a subtle gesture to ease your closeness. Her hair, loose and soft, fell between your lips and her skin as she turned away again, her focus returning to the heavy thoughts that seemed to consume her.

"She delivered us Zaun," Caitlyn said, her voice quieter now, yet firm, almost as if reminding herself. "As she vowed." The words were laced with both pride and resignation, and you could feel the weight of her conviction as she continued. "Without her, who knows how many Enforcers we'd have lost?"

She stared down at the floor, the flickering light from the outside casting shadows across her face, highlighting the furrow in her brow and the subtle quiver in her jaw. "I've learned so much from her," she added, her voice faltering just slightly before she glanced at you from the corner of her eye.

Meeting her gaze, you let your words carry the conviction she seemed to be struggling to find. "You're our leader. The Enforcers, Piltover—they follow you." You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face as your palm cradled her cheek.

Her expression softened, the sharp edges of her frown melting into curved brows and eyes that glistened with something like hope. There was a flicker of pity in her gaze, yes, but also gratitude and a tentative belief in your words. Her lips curved into a small, weary smile as she sighed, her breath warm against your skin.

"I follow you," you added, your voice quieter now, more intimate. Closing your eyes, you nuzzled into the curve of her neck, your lips brushing her skin in a tender kiss.

For a moment, she leaned into your touch, but then her hand rose, her fingers brushing your lips away in a gesture that was both affectionate and dismissive. Her fingertips lingered on your cheek for a heartbeat before she pulled back, her voice soft yet resolute. "I'll come to bed soon."

You hesitated, studying her face, but the look in her eyes told you not to press further. Instead, you nodded, allowing her the space she seemed to need.

You always did.

Caitlyn’s voice carried across the room. "You think it's a copycat?" her tone betrayed a quiet tension that hinted at countless sleepless nights and little patience.

You stepped into the room, the vibrant green hues of its decor bathing you in a bliding glow as the door clicked shut behind you. Your eyes instinctively sought for her, but instead landed on Maddie, who had already turned her head toward you, her interest genuine compared to Caitlyn’s.

"Who's a copycat?" you asked, moving past the staircase near the door, your reflection catching your attention in the mirror mounted on the wall. For a brief moment, you regarded yourself, as if trying to gauge your own preparedness for whatever Caitlyn was about to explain-- if she did.

Your fingers brushed lightly over the upholstery of the ornate green couch as you approached, its intricate stitching a stark contrast to the chaos unraveling in the room. You stopped at the armrest, leaning casually, though your eyes betrayed a keener interest as they traced the web of notes, photographs, and red string pinned across the wall.

"Jinx," Maddie interjected. She stood rigidly, her silhouette framed by the disarray of papers and evidence behind her. Without sparing you a glance, she continued, "I think we've made them desperate for something to believe in."

Her words hung heavy in the room, a statement charged with an unsettling mixture of pride and regret. You watched Caitlyn’s posture, the way her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her gaze remained fixed on the wall. It was clear she hadn’t turned to face you not out of disrespect, but because her focus was tethered to something far more troubling.

"Cait?" your voice softer now, a plea for her attention.

At last, she turned to you, her expression a carefully controlled storm. Her eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, the lines of worry and fatigue etched into her face softened. You had caught her—not in the way that meant triumph, but in the way that meant she had allowed herself to be seen, if only briefly.

You held her gaze,. "Don't... overanalyze this—it doesn’t have to change what we talked about this morning. You can still—"

Yet your voice faltered, hanging in the charged silence as the door opened abruptly, its frame filled with the figure of Ambessa. She didn’t bother with formalities like knocking, she never did. Caitlyn’s posture shifted instantly, her arms crossing tightly in a defensive gesture as her gaze flicked downward—to you and Maddie—before snapping back to the General.

"Officer Nolan..." Ambessa’s voice was smooth yet commanding, each syllable drenched in authority as her eyes swept the room with predatory precision. Her gaze landed on you, her lips curling faintly into something that resembled a smirk. "Quite the familiar faces these days."

In practiced unison, both Maddie and you answered with the same wary tone, your unease palpable. "General."

Ambessa chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, and you glanced at Caitlyn instinctively. She stood tall, her demeanor unyielding, yet the subtle tension in her jaw betrayed her discomfort. This wasn’t the Caitlyn you knew.

"I'd like a word with Commander Kiramman," Ambessa said as she stepped closer, her gaze sharp. Then, with a pointed look, she added, "In private."

Caitlyn glanced at Maddie, a silent dismissal passing between them. Maddie nodded and moved toward the door, her pace brisk, leaving no room for debate. You followed, reluctant but resigned, trailing after her until Caitlyn’s voice cut through the air.

"Stay."

You froze mid-step, the command heavy on her tongue. The room felt suffocating, the bright sunlight streaming through the unnaturally large windows searing against your skin. Despite the drawn green curtains and the open door, the air felt thick, oppressive.

"Cait—" you began, hesitating, but the look she gave you silenced any protest. It wasn’t a plea, it was an order. Reluctantly, you obeyed, retreating to the far side of the room. You sank into the couch, purposefully averting your eyes from either of them, fixing your gaze instead on the polished floorboards that gleamed beneath your feet.

"I suppose I don’t need to advise you on the hazards of entanglements such as these," Ambessa said, her tone laced with condescension.

Caitlyn’s response was immediate. "Nor is that the advice you rushed here to provide."

Ambessa moved toward the fireplace, her steps as if each one carried the weight of her authority.

Behind you, the sound of boots echoed against the floor, each step louder than the last until Caitlyn’s hands came to rest on the back of the couch where you sat. Her fingers pressed into the fabric, unkind.

“It’s beyond question that the news of Jinx’s return will ignite Zaunite resistance,” Ambessa began. Her eyes bore into Caitlyn, as if your presence in the room was as inconsequential as the dust floating in the room. “But the blade cuts both ways.” She paused, as though expecting an immediate response. “There’s a trail. We have her scent.” Her voice carried an undercurrent of satisfaction, but the lack of reply from Caitlyn made her jaw tighten, her fists curling ever so slightly at her sides.

“I’d expected this development would encourage you.” Ambessa’s frown deepened, frustration etching lines into her otherwise stoic face. The silence grew heavier almost like the tension between them.

Caitlyn’s voice broke through. “Was it for my encouragement that your man, Rictus, was instigating violence?”

Ambessa let out a soft scoff, a sound laced with disdain, her expression shifting into something almost mocking. You felt a visceral urge to step back, to distance yourself from the palpable confrontation, but Caitlyn leaned forward, holding you still.

“You don’t trust me,” Ambessa stated, her voice steady despite the weight of the accusation. Caitlyn arched a brow, her expression unreadable. “The blade cuts both ways,” she repeated.

Your gaze lingered, searching for a clue, a sign of what was running through her mind. Was she considering a different path, reevaluating her choices? The faintest flicker of hope ignited in your chest.

“Fearless child…” Ambessa’s voice resonated with a kind of tone one might use when addressing a weapon they admired but also sought to control. “You never shy.”

Caitlyn’s words cut through Ambessa’s veiled mockery. “You have a recommendation?”

Ambessa tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “If it wasn’t Jinx at the checkpoint, one of them knows where she is—”

“Arrests require cause,” Caitlyn interrupted, her voice calm but carrying the weight of authority.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Ambessa stepped forward, her imposing figure shadowing Caitlyn. When her hand came to rest on Caitlyn’s shoulder, you felt a chill creep up your spine, your muscles tensing involuntarily.

“What greater cause is there than returning peace to this city?” Ambessa’s gaze drifted to the window, the light catching the sharp edges of her profile. Then, she looked down at you, her eyes narrowing in silent accusation.

Caitlyn exhaled slowly, a sigh laden with frustration. She didn’t meet your eyes, and the absence of her gaze felt like a knife piercing on your chest. “Why is peace always the justification for violence?” she murmured the quiet rebellion of her heart. Her frown deepened as her eyes fixed on Ambessa, who now turned away to face the fire.

“We’ve lost so many,” Ambessa said, her voice softer now, almost reflective. The flames cast flickering shadows on her face, and for a fleeting moment, she looked almost human, burdened by the grief she carried. “The anger, the sorrow—it’s rotting us from the inside. God's, I know it’s tiring.”

Slowly, she turned back to you. “But will you ever rest, knowing she’s out there?” Her tone shifted, quieter but no less commanding. And so did her eyes, looking back into Caitlyn’s. “Or maybe I underestimated you. Perhaps you have the strength I do not.”

Caitlyn’s brows furrowed at the words, but she didn’t speak.

Ambessa’s gaze flicked between you and Caitlyn. “To forgive and trust.”

Her words stung.

You frowned, your hands curling slightly in your lap as you processed her meaning. Ambessa’s words were a dagger with a double edge, aimed at both of you.

“The decision is yours, Commander,” she said finally, stepping back. Her tone was resigned but firm, as if she had already decided how this would end.

Silence settled over the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Caitlyn stood motionless, her shoulders stiff and her jaw tight.

This were all her decisions...

Caitlyn stood beneath the towering memorial, her cloak wrapped tightly around her frame. The statue of her mother and the fallen councilors loomed above, their figures frozen in empty remembrance. The air bit through your clothes, sinking into your bones and making you shiver. You watched her, or rather, you watched the way her dark hair stirred in the wind, strands slipping free only to be caught beneath the heavy fabric of her cape. She turned then, her eyes finding yours with an intensity that felt too much, too soon.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hold her gaze. The weight of everything—of her, of what she had become—pressed down on you like a hand around your throat. Once, you might have pitied her, the cold loneliness that lingered in her voice and movements. But now, pity had curdled into something else. Fear, perhaps. Fear of the way her sorrow had turned sharp-edged and violent, of how she had learned to wield it like a weapon.

"Do you hate me?" she asked at last, her voice low, laced with that bitter deliberate accent— rusted with regret and blood. The question hung between you, unspoken for too long. Her face remained impassive, carved with the same sternness you had grown used to, each feature set in place as though it had been chiseled from ice. Her skin, pale and cool, seemed almost lifeless in the moonlight, a frown etched so deeply onto her lips that it felt permanent.

She stepped closer, slow and deliberate, the fabric of her cloak billowing with the wind, moving like a shadow that refused to be left behind. Her presence felt overwhelming, oppressive in a way that should have been comforting, but wasn’t. You forced yourself to look up, your eyes meeting hers with a hesitance that you couldn’t quite suppress.

It wasn’t just the proximity that unsettled you—it was the question itself, and the lie it demanded from you. Because the truth was bitter and undeniable, lodged somewhere deep inside you where you dared not look too closely. You didn't want to say it.

But you did.

A slight shake of your head, a whispered "No," barely audible over the restless wind. And as the word left your lips, it tasted like ash.

The cloak caught your attention first, the way it draped over her frame like a piece of armor. Your fingers traced the soft fabric, feeling its deceptive gentleness beneath your touch, a stark contrast to the weight it carried. "Trusting Ambessa," you murmured, the name curling off your tongue like a blade dulled with overuse. Your gaze lifted to hers, but Caitlyn's expression remained as it had been for too long now, distant, unyielding.

"This," you said, voice low but trembling with restrained emotion. You grasped a fold of the cloak between your fingers, pulling it taut with a force that spoke of anger, of longing, of something deeper still. "This isn't you."

And just like that, she shattered.

Her body collapsed against yours, folding in on itself as though the weight she bore had finally crushed her. Hot, bitter tears spilled down her cheeks, streaking her pale skin.

Sobs wracked her frame, each one breaking through her with a ferocity that had been held back for far too long. Her shoulders shook beneath your touch, and you could feel the months of buried anguish clawing its way to the surface, raw and relentless.

It hurt to see her like this, to feel her unravel so completely in your arms, but there was an undeniable relief in it too. As if the tears that spilled from her eyes were ones you had been too afraid to shed yourself. And so you held her, held onto this fractured, vulnerable version of Caitlyn that you had missed so desperately, the one buried beneath layers of duty and grief.

Your fingers found their way into her dark blue hair, stroking gently, soothingly, as if each touch could somehow mend what had been broken. Her tears soaked into your skin, hot and endless, and you let them, let yourself bear witness to her grief without turning away. When her face finally tilted up to meet yours, you could see it— fragile, hopeful. As if, for the first time in a long while, she was allowing herself to believe in healing.

Without hesitation, your hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still fell, trying to steal them away, to absorb the ache she carried so silently. Caitlyn leaned into your touch, and in that moment, it was as if she could no longer bear the space between you.

She didn't wait. She couldn't.

Her lips found yours, trembling and desperate, tasting of salt and sorrow and something achingly human. Her fingers curled around your neck, cold against the warmth of your skin, the elegant fabric of her cloak tangling around you both, cocooning you in shared solace. The kiss was not soft, nor sweet.

it was raw, bruising in its honesty, steeped in longing and the desperate need to feel something real. The salt of her tears lingered on your tongue, the chapped texture of her lips pressing against yours in a way that felt more like a plea than a kiss.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like control—like she could claim this, this touch, this closeness, as something hers, something she could own. In the wreckage of all she had lost, here was something tangible, something she could hold onto. And you let her, let her take from you whatever she needed, let her pour herself into the space between you.

Your soft whimpers mingled with her ragged breaths, the sound of two people unraveling, breaking, becoming. And in that tangled mess of longing and grief, you both crumbled, falling together into something that felt, if not right, then at least real.

She slid her hand inside your panties, rubbing small circles around your clit as her tongue slipped inside your mouth, letting the spit drip in between your chins.

Her other hand came to wrapp behind your back, holding you in place while her knee stepped in between your legs, guiding you to hump into her thigh while her fingers scissored your folds.

You helt onto her, moving your hands from her shoulders down her chest, cupping at her clothed breasts. With gentleness, the bottoms of her uniform parted open at the intrusion of your fingers, caressing tbe soft of her blouse, cupping her nipples.

The warmth of your breath hit her neck, you guided yourself closer, smelling her perfume on the cloak and brushing her hair with your nose a little so your lips could properly latch onto her skin.

The pads of your fingers caressed down her abdomen, sliding your hand inside her blouse to feel her skin. Her fingers moved slowly against your clit, feeling the damp against your panties covering her glove as well. You looked up at her, your mouth instinctively opening to allow her saliva drip into your mouth, whining in between st the sensation of her fingers slipping into your drenching hole, thrusting with the perfect force and the slowest pace.

The wet sounds just kept growing, the obscene of it reserved for the two of you even as exposed as you two where.

You swallowed, letting your lips parted open until her fingers hit the right spot. Her name dripping through your lips one last time in the nicest gasp she's ever got from you.

[unintentionalseductress]

Hi! I had a request if it's okay and I thought I'd send it to your inbox like you asked me to :))

The vision I kinda had for it was ultimately inspired by the fanart and now that I actually think about it, perhaps it's something like rafayel's an outlaw and she's the future queen or sm and they're having a secret affair and ultimately they're caught one day and so her father's furious cs like as you said in the Nanami one, she's supposed to be absolutely pure until marriage so when she's caught with Rafayel doing the dirty, it's absolutely js like 😨😡🤯 for her father, I didn't know how else to explain it srry 😭😭 but yh and so now her father's in a rush to marry her off without further embarrassment but then her and rafayel elope but they go through the deserts, like in the fanart, so nobody can chase after them and uh yh 😭 the only smut I envisioned would be at the beginning of it cs personally, I can't see them doing it in a hot and sandy desert 😖 so uh yh

But tyyy 🫶🫶🫶

-📚

Promised Sands

Warnings: MDNI, sex, angst, mentions of death and violence, reader experiences depression and thoughts of taking her own life briefly A/n: Book anon and I had a chat about this fic, and after getting more details, she said she wanted it loosely based off the Aladdin AU I wrote for Nanami . I am still writing the Zayne and Dawnbreaker fic but inspiration somehow found me and this ended up being written quite quickly. And this is only my second oneshot for Rafayel, like WHAT?! I don't write enough for him.

You sit miserably on your bed, staring out of the barred window at the silhouette of the city in the distance. The bars were a recent addition, placed to discourage you from trying to pull a Houdini a few days before your wedding. 

Your future in-laws were already at the palace, no doubt being shown the lavish grounds and amenities they could expect once their son officially became your husband. The thought made you sick to your stomach because you neither asked nor wanted this wedding. The setting sun cast long shadows across the palace grounds and painted the sky various shades of gold, tangerine, and magenta, and your mind couldn’t help but wander to last week, when you had been unburdened by the prospects of marriage and your heart had been full of love. 

You supposed you should have known better, but how was one expected to resist the natural pull of desires coming alive when your loved one was near? The longing of wanting to be tucked into their embrace, of feeling their lips on yours, and the press of your skin coming together as passions overflowed, the magic of it all glowing like embers from a fire, rising and disappearing into the air.

No one had suspected the Lemurian initially. It was well-known he was a gift to you, and that due to their unwavering loyalty bond, he would never be able to take advantage of you. But what the royal family hadn’t anticipated was that you would consent to being taken advantage of by the Lemurian.

Rafayel had been your steadfast companion for years, since you were a child and he had been presented to you on your birthday. And although you had given his freedom, he returned to visit regularly, bringing back gifts each time; bangles for your wrists, fancy hair ornaments, and little glass figurines that littered the small tables all around your room. No one had suspected that as both of you grew older, that you’d develop feelings for each other that went beyond master and servant. No one thought the princess with the blessed heart would choose him, someone that they had considered less than human, unfit to be your romantic companion in their eyes. But how wrong they had been, and when the king had discovered the extent of your affair, his wrath was terrifying. 

When Rafayel had been discovered in your bedchamber fully clothed, while you lay naked on the bed with nothing more than a bedsheet wrapped around you, the king had demanded his life as retribution. You had screamed, begged and pleaded, and the memory of the king’s look of disgust was burned in your mind as you kneeled at his feet, clutching the bedsheet like it was armor. It had taken 4 men to restrain Rafayel, and as they dragged him away, you could still hear his grunts of pain as the guards had kicked and punched him as they took him away to the jail underneath the palace. 

It had been a week since then, and you had trailed pathetically behind the king ever since, until he had coldly informed you that Rafayel had been beaten to death. There was no remorse in his tone, not even a slight offer of comfort. In the same deadpan voice, the king had informed you that your marriage to the prince of a neighboring kingdom had been arranged, and that no one needed to know you had been “ruined” before your wedding night.

Shortly after, he had hired some servants to put bars on all the windows in your bedchamber, and security constantly patrolled the wing where your living quarters were. It wasn’t necessary; you had lost the will to fight after learning about Rafayel’s demise. 

You cried, feeling like your heart was breaking into pieces, bleeding, yet cruelly refusing to stop beating. Why couldn’t it halt, just give out and end it all? You’d considered taking your own life, yet each time you eyed the small dagger that you’d hidden under your mattress, an overwhelming bond held you in place; perhaps your self-preservation instincts were too strong. And thus, you fell into a trance, a state of being on autopilot. Dutifully, you had presented yourself to the prince, had allowed your handmaidens to preen and fuss over you, dressing you in fine silks, painting your lips the reddest of reds and patting rouge onto your cheeks to give you the look of a blushing bride besotted with her betrothed.

Internally, you were screaming, but your body felt too exhausted to muster the energy to match the rage boiling inside you. You had looked in the mirror, not recognizing the reflection that stared back at you. There were bags under your eyes, a grief-stricken droop in your posture, yet all your ladies in waiting tittered on about how beautiful you looked, and that once you were married you’d have more dresses than your wardrobe could accommodate. You felt ashamed. If any other person had been as close to you as Rafayel had, you’d be wearing the standard black gown that signified mourning. It felt like a smear on Rafayel’s memory that you were lamenting his loss so keenly, yet unable to show it in your attire. 

Now with two days left to your wedding, you had resigned to your fate. Dusk had fallen, yet you can hear the cacophony of voices from the balcony. A pre-weddng celebration. Delicious smells wafted into your bedchamber, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and music. Everyone was celebrating your upcoming nuptials except you. Your handmaiden had attempted to get you dressed for the evening but you had been so uncooperative and listless that she’d given up, settling for the reassurance that at least you weren’t trying to escape anymore. 

Suddenly, your stomach roiled, feelings of deep disgust welling up inside you and bubbling out like molten lava. You slammed all the windows shut, making no effort to hide your disdain for the sham of a welcoming party the king had put together for your supposed fiancé. You locked the door and began to tear apart everything in the room. You knocked over lamps unflinchingly as the delicate glass shattered onto the floor. You threw the fairytale books from their shelves, ripping out pages from some of them, tearing the pretty illustrations depicting princes and princesses getting their happy ending. You dipped your calligraphy brushes into various pots of ink and dragged them along the walls, haphazardly stroking chaotic lines of color into the walls. And you screamed all the while this happened. Tears flowed unrestrainedly down your cheeks. If they refused to let you honor him quietly in black, then you’d do it loudly, in the most violent shades you could find. 

This was your grief. It was not theirs to control, and you felt the dam of emotions you had been holding back come flooding through. You allowed yourself to remember everything; nights spent on the balcony whispering your fears and secrets to him, using little henna cones to trace patterns onto his hands, and letting him do the same for you, marveling at how much bigger they were than yours, with those long, slender fingers. You remembered the softness of his hair and how the wind messed up his bangs and how his eyes turned into the most breathtaking shade of lilac as the sun caught them. The way his eyelashes rested like fans on his cheeks while he was sleeping, and the gentleness of his lips as he kissed you. 

You didn’t care about the purity laws. You had done nothing impure, nothing worthy of the scorn the king had been giving you the past few days. What was revolting was the way everyone else was behaving, acting nonchalant like your childhood companion hadn’t been beaten to death within the very walls of this palace you had called home. So you kicked, your voice calling out his name like a wild animal, holding yourself to prevent your being from falling apart at the seams, your fingernails leaving little bloody marks in your sides as you did so. 

When the rage finally quieted down, the room was in shambles. It brought you a great sense of satisfaction, your throat raw from your lamenting. Exhausted, you collapsed on the bed, and the anguish turned quiet. You could feel it still crawling under your skin but the cathartic destruction of your bedchamber had dulled it. 

You knew you’d never love the man who was to be your husband. How were you to sleep with this man? This person who hadn’t even questioned the circumstances under which this marriage had been proposed? 

Shivering from the adrenaline withdrawal, you bury your face into your pillow, desperately recalling all the times Rafayel had made love to you. Your hands start to wander, softly touching yourself, cupping your breasts, and sighing as your fingers wandered to the space between your legs.

Rafayel’s lips were cool against the heat of your bare skin. You were blushing from your lack of experience. There’s a playful mischievousness in his eyes as he trailed kisses down the column of your neck, coming to the valley between your breasts.

“Is your highness pleased?” He had teased, looking up at you slyly, enjoying the way your cheeks turned pink. You had averted your gaze, trying not to make it obvious how much he was affecting you, which had only amused him. 

“It pleases me when you’re pleased, ya know?” His mouth had closed over a pert nipple, suckling with the perfect pressure that had made you whimper needily, feeling moisture gathering in your core. Heat gathered in your belly and your toes kept curling into the sheets as he pleasured you. 

When you dared to look at him again, his eyes glittered with dark desire. 

“Tell me my lady,” he had whispered as he’d pushed your knees apart to settle in between them. “Are you in need of my services? All you need to do is ask.”

Your breath had caught in your throat as his fingers gently spread your wet lips apart, revealing the little engorged bud in between them. Rafayel’s tongue gave it a wet lick and your back had arched in pleasure, a wanton noise escaping you. You had waited for him to continue but when you felt nothing, your eyes cracked open for a second only to see him gazing intently at you.

“I await your command my princess,” he had said patiently even though desire was eating away at him. 

“Rafayel, please,” you had gasped. “I’m yours.” 

Relief had flooded your system as his tongue found purchase between your folds, his spit gathering onto the swollen membranes as he tasted you. Your body felt like it was in heaven, becoming lighter and alive under his ministrations. The room had filled with the lewd, moist noises of his tongue lapping away at your slick folds, sucking your clit with care until your mind was a mess of hot need. You had struggled to reach the peak, almost losing concentration until Rafayel’s hand had reassuringly held yours and your fingers had interlaced with his.

The thoughtful gesture had been the thing needed for you to find the courage to tip into the abyss of desire where all that existed was him and the desires of your own body. You felt all the senses leave you as you orgasmed, your clit spasming in ecstasy as your hole fluttered in urgent need. Your thighs trembled and you moaned his name as he licked through the aftershocks. 

After every last drop of your pleasure had been drawn, he’d held you against him, helping you come down from the intensity of the high. You could feel his erection pressing hotly against your thigh, barely contained by the thin fabric of his underwear. Boldly, your hand had slipped into it, grasping his length and stroking, drawing a hiss from him. 

“Impatient princess?” he had asked with a lilt, trying to fluster you again, but his teeth were gritted at how good your small hand felt on his cock. He’d guided you, showing you how to hold him, how much pressure he liked, and once you’d mastered the movements, he’d allowed himself a brief moment of indulgence, surprising you when he stilled your hand.

“I won’t last long if you keep this up.” His hand brushed your cheek and he’d kissed you before rolling you under him. 

“I promise this won’t hurt too much.”

Your body tensed when you felt his thick, rounded head probe your entrance, carefully notching into the tight space.

“Don’t worry.” Rafayel snuggled your body close to his, peppering your face with little kisses. “I’ve got you. Just keep breathing. Nice and deep.” His hands cushioned behind the back of your head and you trained your eye to focus on the fine ring of inky black that surrounded his mesmerizing irises. Your body stretched around him, the tightness almost unbearably painful, and Rafayel had paused several times to let you adjust, gently sheathing himself inch by inch, kissing away your tears. He’d stilled when he had finally bottomed out, and you realized your body no longer felt like it was being split apart. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, and everything inside you changed.

Rafayel gave a testing roll of his hips and when you clung to him moaning, he’d picked up the pace, thrusting into you, merging your bodies into one. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and you held on tight as he pushed into new realms of discovery. 

You withdraw your sticky fingers from your cunt, skin slick with sweat, glowing with the effort of giving yourself that orgasm. They could marry you off, tell the world whatever they wanted, but they couldn’t take away what Rafayel had shown you. You would play the obedient, meek, little princess for now. But someday, you didn’t know when, you would leave. You would find a way to escape from this gilded cage, and never look back. 

This newly found resolve calms you, and you manage to fall into a fatigued sleep. 

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

There’s a tapping noise on the glass of your window, and you awaken abruptly, eyes blinking to adjust the darkness of the night. You find your heartbeat quickening as you spy a shadowy figure lurking outside the glass. Who had managed to get up there? You glance around your room for a weapon, then freeze when an achingly familiar voice calls, muffled through the closed window.

“Open up!”

You blink, looking wildly at the blurred stranger. It couldn’t be. He was dead. You scramble to your feet, trying to calm your frazzled nerves. 

A ghost? Had he come to say goodbye? 

With a trembling hand, you reach out to undo the lock, not daring to breathe as a tall man dressed in black leather pulls out a strange looking tool, cutting the iron bars in one go before swiftly entering your room. 

“Rafayel?” Your voice is unsteady. You can tell he’s injured. His wrist had been splinted and his beautiful face bore bruises. 

“Yeah, who else did you think it was?”

“They told me you were dead!” The words were a broken whisper.

“What, did you think I’m that easy to kill?” Rafayel tries to smile but his lips bear a half-healed cut and he winces as he does so. “Princess, I could never die so easily. Didn’t I promise that I’d get you out of here someday?”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. Needing confirmation that he was indeed whole and human, you cup his uninjured cheek with an unsteady hand, feeling the heat of his skin, and the soft expulsion of air as it left his nostrils. Rafayel’s eyes soften, and he pulls you into a tight hug, reassuringly patting your hair. 

“I’m here my love.” He presses a kiss to your hair. “But we have to move. Quickly. My comrades said they’d keep watch, but it won’t be long until they give the signal. We need to leave as soon as they do so.” 

He looks around the room, inspecting the havoc. “What happened here?” 

You manage a watery smile, dashing away a tear. “A funeral.” 

No sooner had you said the word than a sudden flash of light burst into the sky. Peering outside the window, you see it ascend into the sky, before exploding like a firecracker, the lights arranging themselves to form a fishtail. Screams erupted from the palace grounds which had otherwise been peaceful.

“We’re under attack! Call the guards!” Voices echoed from the din, panic setting in amongst the citizens. 

“That’s our cue.” Rafayel looks at you and there’s a hint of uncertainty in them. “Unless you’d rather stay?”

“Never.” You quickly tiptoe to plant a kiss on Rafayel’s lips. He’s startled for a brief moment, then breaks into a wide grin. 

“Time to go my beautiful bride.” 

He takes your hand and helps you out onto the narrow ledge of the window. It was pitch black outside, the fishtail signal’s brightness engulfing all the stars glimmering in the background. 

“We jump.” He holds your hand firmly. “One, two, three!”

You wisely hold in your scream as you leap off the edge with cold nothing underneath your feet, plummeting a few feet before you suddenly bob up into the air. Looking down, you realize you’re standing on something soft and fluid. A flapping noise can be heard as whatever it is rises into the clouds and whisks you away from the palace. Night air wipes your hair as Rafayel holds you tightly to his side. 

Once you begin to sail through an unbroken patch of moonlight, you glance down to see your vehicle was a giant manta ray, its flat, pancake-like membranes lazily undulating in the sky as it carried you into unknown lands. 

Rafayel helps you sit on the massive creature’s back and joins you, protectively pulling you against him to shield you from the wind. You glance up at him. 

“So you heard about the wedding then.” You probe and Rafayel nods, but you notice a flicker of rage in his eyes when you brought it up. Hastily, you add, “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it. I only asked because you called me a ‘beautiful bride’.”

He turns to look at you, lowering his hood as he does so. “If I recall, I called you my beautiful bride.” The intensity of his gaze makes you blush and you quickly avert your eyes to the starry sky. 

“What do you mean?” you ask shyly, then your breath catches in your throat as Rafayel digs into an inner pocket of his garb and pulls out a ring of gold, with a large sapphire set in the middle. 

“My beautiful bride,” he repeats, and wordlessly slips the ring onto your finger. You look at it with tears in your eyes, then sniff as you’re pulled into his loving embrace. It was almost presumptuous of him not to ask, but wholly unnecessary in your opinion. You didn’t want to be anyone else’s but his. 

Very little was said for the rest of the journey, but words weren’t needed. You knew there would be plenty to talk about once you got off this ride, once you were presented to Rafayel’s entourage, wherever they were. Instead you settled for the knowledge that he was alive, and that you were free from the expectations of the palace. 

It was uncertain how much time had passed, but the manta ray began to descend, the air growing warmer as it got lower to the ground, casting a long shadow as it did so. You look around and sense the dry quality of the air, seeing the sand dunes that were everywhere and realize you were in the middle of the desert. The area was still and quiet as your ride landed with a soft thump on the sand. You and Rafayel disembark, and the creature vanishes into thin air. 

“Where-?”

“Back to the sea. A god never forces a creature of the deep to remain on land for too long.” 

You glance around and squint, seeing silhouettes in the distance that seem to be heading your way. 

“That’s our party. Right on time.” Rafayel offers his hand to you, smiling.

“Let’s go say hi. I want to properly introduce them to the future queen of Lemuria.”

Your heart swells with affection, remembering all the times you’d talked about marrying him, about being completely his for all of time. Holding onto his entwined fingers, you take your first step into a life of beautiful freedom. 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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[endereies]

MOVIE NIGHT - CS

No Nut November - Day 9

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Chris relaxing and watching a film together

You and Chris had gotten settled on the sofa together while the tv was shining over the pair of you while it displayed a film you’d seen before. All the lights were turned off and the smell of fresh sweet and salty popcorn filled your senses. A fluffy blanket covered the majority of your body while Chris just sat next to you in one of his larger hoodies These moments happened less than you both wanted, with both of your schedules colliding. However, when they did happen, you both settled into each other’s company quickly, unwinding from the week just gone.

The longer the movie plays, you take notice of his movements towards you. Even with your legs touching, he needed more of the person he loved. In his mind the film had been long abandoned, and his attention drew to the way the film cast a soft glow to your face. Your cheekbones were slightly more accentuated, your eyes had gained a little more sparkle, and a dusting of blush covered the tip of your nose. He just couldn’t stop admiring you. Chris loved the simple things about you especially the way your nose twitched whenever he made popcorn to share. He was just so drawn you, and he had no control.

After a while of Chris inching closer, his chin laid on your shoulder. You were used to Chris being close to you, but after realising how much he moved, you giggled in confusion.

“Chris...? Whatcha doing...” He didn’t utter a word and just wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, his fingers rubbing back and forth where your shirt lifted. Eventually he spoke, his voice melodic and lethargic.

“Nothing, just love m’girl.” You rolled your eyes, covering the way your blush grew deeper in your cheeks.

“Are you even watching?” you questioned his behaviour subtly.

“I’m watching you, does that count.” As much as you try, you can’t seem to regain focus back on to the film and you just feel him watching you silently. He notices the way you react, quickly commenting on it.

“Sorry baby, you’re just adorable what can I say?” Chris smiles softly, drawing one hand up to run through your hair, pushing back a few strands so he can see you better.

“Chris. You’re actually a dork.” A few pieces of popcorn shovel into your mouth, distracting you from his sweet comments. You couldn’t help but blush whenever he spoke about you. His words lulled you further into your emotions and he somehow always knew what to say.

“You love it” he leant his head forwards slightly and glanced quickly at your lips. “May I?”

With a nod from you as permission, he closed the remaining amount of distance and shyly kissed you. A satisfied hum leaves him which makes you smile into the kiss. You both kept it mild yet tender and when he pulled back, he stared into your eyes, a stupid grin on his face.

“I love you, you know that right?” In that moment, everything faded away. You knew he loved you and yet you still found yourself acting like a high-school kid with their first crush when he said it to you. “I love you too Chris.”

He leant back to his original position, not before grabbing a handful of the now cold popcorn and shovelling it into his mouth.

“Babe? Can you rewind it? I was not paying attention…”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[lmaowhatt]

it takes time - three

summary: actress y/n I/n has recently skyrocketed into stardom after her breakout film 'castaways' alongside sarah cameron, kevin hart, chris evans and chris hemsworth. weeks after the movies premiere, she drops her debut single, further cementing her place in the spotlight. as millions of people around the world begin to notice and idolize her, struggling with her own demons, she catches the attention of rafe cameron, among others. however, not everything goes as smooth as they both would've hoped. and they soon figure out.. it takes time.

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december 21, 2024

everythingyn

everythingyn y/n, accompanied by co-star rafe cameron and friends at 'hellraiser' premiere, as well as co-director, john b routledge making a couple appearances. bts pics were also recieved by fans who attended the premiere!

user jj and kie? kill me now theyre so cute.

user i will die on the cameron siblings supremacy hill.

user finest group of friends to EVER strut this earth.

user tuh. jj come home the kids miss you😔

➯ jjmay On my way!

➯ user BYE

user yall my friend said that backstage or whatever, rafe and y/n werent near eachother at ALL..

➯ user they must be really good actors then😭😭

user john b, one chance! sarah, can you fight?

➯ sarahcam yes i can

user i feel like theyd be so fun to hang out with if i had a man cs if u think im seventh or ninth wheeling😭

user love this❤️

user DJFVNIRJBV

➯ user real

user why is topper.. everywhere like pls😭

truth was, the more sarah tried to get you and rafe close to eachother, to talk at the very least, the more the two of you found it awkward and distanced yourselves. you had spent the majority of the time at the premiere beforehand with jj, pope, kie and cleo, while he spent most of his time with sarah, john b, and topper. its her brother, can you blame her? why topper was there? no one knew.

you were mid conversation with jj when sarah came over once again with a beaming smile. "sarah, no." you immediately shook your head, glancing around at the fans that had turned up especially early, presumably wanting to capture pictures of whatever they could gossip about. "what? i cant smile at my bestfriend?" she jokingly crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. "not when i know theres something you want," you point an accusatory finger at her.

you chuckled when she let out a heavy sigh, "okay, maybe." she said with a soft smile. "just a hug with you and rafe before you start, pleaseee." she begged, as she held your right hand with her left. you widened your eyes in agreement, tossing your other hand slightly into the air. "fine," you let her lead you towards rafe, where he glanced between you and sarah with a soft nervous? smile.

you offered him a tight lipped smile, opening your arms as if reaching in for a hug. he did the same, bending down and wrapping them around your mid-back as you wrapped yours around his neck. "sorry 'bout her," he mumbled into your ear. a slight chuckle left your lips, "its expected dont worry." you rubbed you hand up and down his back before patting it as if beginning to let go.

rafe noted the signal, also rubbing his hand up and down your back for a moment before backing away. the two of you stayed close, greeting some of the fans that had arrived early before saying a quick goodbye and retreating back to your original small groups. you sucked in a breath through your teeth as jj laughed, wrapping an arm loosely around your shoulder.

"y'good?" he mumbled as he watched cleo and pope innocently bicker as they tried to fix his hair with kiara laughing behind them. "yeah. i d'know what sarahs doing but as long as she doesnt push it." you shrug, watching as most paparazzi as well as a couple interviewers made their way to the designated area at the carpet, the horde of fans growing behind them.

he heaved out a sigh, wrapping both arms around neck in a warm hug. "whoa, hi there." you laugh. "whats this for?" you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist as the two of you rocked slightly side to side. "im proud of you," he placed his chin on top of your head. "you tell me that all the time j," you laugh, however, you decide to stay in the hug for a while more.

"yeah, i know," he said softly, pulling away only slightly to face you. "but i want you to know i mean it, and thank you for keeping me by your side," he jokes, you laughing as he pulls you back into the embrace. after a short moment, you pull away. "thank you jj. love you." you smiled as he reciprocated, smiling down at you. "love you too, buddy." he kisses your forehead.

he nodded at the carpet, "go ahead, take some picture and let us know when you want us to join you." jj patted your shoulder, lightly pushing you towards the carpet where rafe was also approaching. you gave him a kind smile, glancing to where you previously were to see jj and kie, as well as pope and cleo smiling and cheering for you.

you laughed quietly as you and rafe wrapped an arm around eachother, taking a couple picture before some members from the rest of the cast, as well as john b and his co-director came over to also take pictures. after a couple more moments of posing for the cameras, john b gave you the all clear to call jj and the others over, so you did as he called sarah over. they all rushed up to you and rafe, hugging the both of you as a small greeting as if the nine of you hadn't greeted eachother before.

the nine of you got into random places, posing for pictures for some minutes. after a couple shots and different poses, everyone dispersed as you, john b and rafe moved on to the short interviews. your eyes first landed on a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties, anxiously holding a microphone. you smiled politely at her as you approached. "hi," you extender your hand out for a handshake, one which she nervously accepted.

"hi," she stuttered back. "sorry.. my first time doing an interview." she shrugged lightly, to which you nodded. "dont worry, i dont bite." you laughed. she sighed as you stood patiently, "wanna get started?" she asked as she held a flash card in her hand. "whenever you're ready, dont worry." you held a hand out, silently saying that it was her call.

she inhaled slowly, exhaling after a moment. "okay- this was your first journey into a horror/mystery film compared to your breakout role in the comedy, castaways," she paused as if asking for your approval, to which you nodded. "how challenging was it to manage the intensity and dynamics between your character and rafe camerons compared to castaways?"

you furrowed your eyebrows with a smile, pointing a finger at her as you raised your head in thought. "good question," you spoke into the mic she had moved closer to your face. "well, it was way more different in this movie. i feel like on set, whether we were filming or not, you could feel the sort of– tension? if thats what it could be called." you paused, gathering your thoughts.

"but compared to castaways where the tone was light and carefree both on and off set, yeah it was definitely challenging. this film defenitely required a lot more focus and deep diving into my character, but i was lucky to have a good- good co-stars who have been in projects like this before to help me when i struggled." you glanced at rafe, who was at the other side of the carpet, also engaged in an interview.

the interviewer nodded along as you answered her first question, then trasitioning to her next. "speaking of, what was the first major difference you feel that set in when transitioning from four co-stars to one main costar?" you nodded, raising your eyebrows with a slight surprised face. "whoever writes your questions needs a raise," you joked, erupting a laugh from the interviewer.

you paused for a moment as you thought about your answer, "but, the first major difference i felt was the change in atmosphere. i feel like with multiple costars, theres sort of a family mood that sets in compared to with one main costar." you paused. "with one, its much more intimate, but it also allows for more exploring into your characters and their backstories to make sure you understand the complexity of the entire plot." you spoke into the microphone with a small smile, "but i think it also has to do with the type of project you're working on."

"okay, good answer." the woman complimented to which you smiled with a small nod of your head. "heres a simpler question. did you have a certain routine you followed to get into your character while on set?" you fixed your hair as you thought about how to answer the question while also reminiscing about your days on set.

finally, you shook your head. "i wouldnt say i did. if anything, i would have my headphones in, listening to my playlist while in hair and makeup. but, to be honest, the music wasnt the same vive as the movie" you laughed as the interviewer smiled at you.

she tilted her head, switching grips on her microphone. "any artists we would know?" you nodded with a small smile, "hopefully," you crossed your index and middle fingers with a small laugh. "a lot of frank ocean, the weeknd, brent faiyaz, bryson tiller... a bunch of that type of music. and of course my baby, maddy beer." you blew a kiss to the camera, letting out a soft smile after.

the interviewer smiled at you and nodded, bringing the mic back to her face. "well, i believe thats all for this interview. thank you and good luck on your next," the woman smiled politely. you reached your arms out to pull her into a hug, "you did good," you smile as you pull away. "thank you," she mouthed. you waved a small goodbye towards her before walking a couple feet away to your next interview.

finally, after the entensive amount of interviews, where the questions were repeated for the most part, you shook the hand of the last interviewer, who for some reason had a habit of looking down your body, you not succeeding in hiding the disgust on your face. you walked away from the line of interviewers, looking around to find literally anyone you knew.

"boo!" jj grasped your shoulders from behind, to which you jumped. "jesus," you held a hand to your chest. "dont–" you shoved his chest, "do that jj." you concluded with a small laugh as he shoved you back lightly. "howd it go?" he asked you as the two of you walked away to find your friends. "eh.. it went good. i liked the first girl. she was nervous but shes good at her job." you smiled as you waved at random fans or people from set.

you sighed as the two of you went behind the carpet, "d'know about the last guy tho, bit of a creep," you shrugged. jj nodded along at your words, hand on your mid back as you moved around people. "well, at least its over," he joked with a small laugh. you reciprocated, laughing as the two of you approached kiara. you smiled excitedly, wrapping your arms around her neck with a small squeal as the two of you rocked back and forth giddily.

"im gonna go find jb," you removed yourself from the hug with kiara, turning to jj. "might wanna wipe the lipstick off better next time," you motioned to his jawline with a teasing smile. jj rolled his eyes, wiping the back of his hand along his jawline. "you idiot," kie moved around you, smacking his hand off his face to help him wipe the lipstick off. "have fun," you quipped as you made your way around people to look for john b.

rafecameron

liked by sarahcam, youruser, popeh and 1.3 million others

rafecameron life.

user the scream i scrumpt

sarahcam the way u copied my caption and im not on here..🙄

user TWO pictures of her? on purpose? very rare.

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user we got family drama going on guys!

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*liked by creator*

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your phone

sarahs phone

a/n: sigh. also, according to chat gpt barrys last name is lyman, it doesnt really fit him but im running with it. we all know hes practically married to rafe canonically so its okay. a/n pt.2: next post might be on christmas day because i want to spend time with my family and friends tomorrow and i hope you all do as well! a/n pt.3: i also wrote the interview questions and answers myself. ill let you know i was very proud of myself😭

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | T H R E E

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Wrenley finds herself on the outside of everything, realizing she’s actively losing the man she loves and starts to lose hope.

Notes: This one kinda feels all over the place but I had to get to this specific ending

Warnings: cheating (on both sides), attempted murder, 

Word Count: 6.3k

previous part

“Fuck! She’s awake!” The panic in the air is palpable as a blade glints ominously under the dim light. The cadet rolls, instinct kicking in, but she’s not quick enough. A sword arcs dangerously close to her back, the momentum sending a chill down my spine as her knees hit the hardwood floor. 

As the dust settles, I finally recognize the cascade of silver-tipped hair framing a face filled with fierce determination. It’s Violet. 

Seven cadets crowd into her small room, an unsettling mix of four unbonded men and three unbonded women, all eyes filled with an intensity that teeters on the brink of chaos. But then, a shiver creeps up my spine—the dark-haired figure standing at the threshold, blocking Violet’s only escape, is a face I never expected to see here. 

No. She wouldn’t dare.

“Guess it won’t do me much good to ask you to leave nicely?” Violet taunts, her voice dripping with malice.

“Damn it! I told you her armor was impenetrable!” One of the boys hisses from the door, frustration radiating off him in waves. 

“I should have killed you during Threshing,” Violet growls, her voice low yet filled with a simmering rage. The tension snaps as one of the girls lunges at her, and Violet darts across the bed, her movements a blur as she makes a beeline for the window, desperate for freedom. A knife whizzes through the air, its aim true, catching the sleeve of Violet’s delicate nightgown—a mere thread of fabric against the brutal reality of their confrontation.

But Violet retaliates with ferocity, her blade finding its mark in the girl’s shoulder, a cruel twist of fate. Yet there’s no time to savor victory; another assailant is already charging at her, and she swiftly turns, slicing at the new threat with a precision that speaks of countless hours of training.

“You have to go for her throat!” I hear Oren’s voice rise above the fray as he closes the distance to Violet, desperation clear in his eyes. “I’ll do it myself.” 

In an instant, the scene escalates further—Violet is lifted off the ground, Oren’s hands tightening around her neck, the chaos spiraling deeper into darkness…

“Wren?” My gaze snaps up to meet Ridoc’s, his brow furrowed in concern as he sits across from me at the long, scarred table of the dining hall. The chatter of fellow cadets buzzes around us, a backdrop of laughter and the clatter of trays, but I feel disconnected still. “You okay? You’ve been staring at your tray for like ten minutes.”

“Fine. Just not super hungry.” I reply, pushing my tray away with a sigh that carries more weight than I intend. My stomach churns with anxiety, the unease bubbling just beneath the surface. “Hey, have you seen Xaden?”

“No, I saw him and Bodhi go somewhere just before dinner.” Ridoc shrugs, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the growing knot of worry twisting in my gut. 

“Oh.” A flicker of disappointment washes over me; they never mentioned anything to me. What could they possibly be up to? The thought gnaws at me, a small worry worming its way into my mind.

“Hey, a group of us are going to be studying in the commons tonight. You’re welcome to join us.” Ridoc's smile is bright, a genuine warmth radiating from him that feels like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds. It’s probably the most sincere expression I’ve seen from him—no flirting, just a simple invitation to be part of the group. “Most of us aren’t making heads or tails of our history class, and Dain said you were probably the best to help besides Violet.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you guys down there.” I smile back, relief washing over me as I nod to Ridoc, watching him leave to join his friends. 

“Warn Tairn, Violet might be in danger.” I murmur to Desa as I lift my tray to dispose of it.

“Already done. You should eat something, Youngling.” Her tone is firm, laced with the gentle authority she usually has. 

“I’m fine, Desa.” I grumble, and she huffs through our bond, a soft echo of her exasperation that makes me sigh. “I’ll eat in the morning.”

“The Shadow Wielder will not be pleased when he returns.” 

My steps falter in the hall outside the Gathering Hall, the weight of her words sinking in. “Do you know where he is?” I ask, a flicker of hope igniting within me, praying for some kind of answer.

“I do, and you do not need to concern yourself with this.” 

So much for that. With a resigned breath, I move up to my room, gathering my bag before heading down to the commons to wait for the first-years. The familiar tension settles into my shoulders as the shadows lengthen around me.

“Wake, Youngling.” 

The low, urgent voice cuts through the remnants of my nightmare, dragging me into the cold, harsh reality of the present. My heart races, a wild drumbeat echoing in my ears as I jolt upright in bed, sweat clinging to my skin. “What’s wrong, Desa?” My voice trembles, still heavy with the shadows of my dream.

“Tairn’s rider is under attack.” 

The words hit me like a bucket of icy water. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the wooden floorboards cold against my feet as I scramble to slip into my unlaced boots. My dagger sheaths draw my attention, and I snatch them from where they hang on the bed frame, the metal cool and reassuring in my grip. I bolt down the hall, adrenaline surging through my veins, each heartbeat urging me to move faster.

As I rush toward the first-year dorms, the once-familiar corridors feel foreign, shadows creeping along the walls as panic nips at my heels. I come to a sudden halt outside Violet’s room, the sight that greets me sending a chill down my spine. Five lifeless bodies lie sprawled across the floor, their stillness a stark reminder of my own attack first year. A shiver runs through me, the memory of that night clawing at my resolve.

“Wren?” The voice cuts through my daze; it’s Bodhi, appearing behind me, concern etched on his features. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, Desa warned me. Had to make sure Violet was okay.” My voice falters slightly, the lie hanging in the air like smoke. I turn back to the room, where Xaden is already at Violet’s side, his expression a mask of concentration.

“I know how to handle a corset,” he states, reaching for her vest. 

“Let me.” I step forward, urgency thrumming through me. 

“You knew?” he asks, the question loaded, a sharp edge in his tone. 

I nod, my fingers brushing against the laces, determination igniting within me. “Desa woke me; I got here as quick as I could.” Gently, I tug at the laces, loosening them just enough to reveal the bruising marring her side, dark and angry against her skin. 

“How do you get yourself into this every morning?” Xaden's voice is low as he inspects the bruising.

“I’m freakishly flexible. It’s part of the whole bones-snapping, joints-tearing thing.” 

“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.” Xaden’s voice, steady and clinical, brings a flicker of relief. I resume lacing her back up, a rhythmic tugging grounding me amidst the chaos.

The air in the room is thick with tension, a palpable force that presses against my chest as I stand there, the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. 

I watch as Xaden kneels beside Violet, his hands deftly maneuvering the laces of her boots with an urgency that belies his calm demeanor. His brow furrows in concentration, and for a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of the fierce protector he is beneath the surface. 

“Come on, Violet,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, coaxing her through the pain as she winces with each movement. “You’re going to have to walk through the pain, and we have to do it fast.” He taps her foot gently, an almost instinctual cue, and she lifts it obediently, allowing him to lace her final boot. 

As he stands, an imposing figure cloaked in resolve, he grabs Violet’s cloak and it billows slightly as he drapes it over her shoulders like a protective shroud. 

“Wren, go back to your room. I’ll come find you,” Xaden commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. A flicker of something ignites within me—a mixture of anger and disappointment, a rising tide of emotions that threaten to spill over.

“Are you going to actually do that or disappear again before we can talk?” I challenge, my arms crossed defiantly over my chest. I refuse to be dismissed so easily, not when the air crackles with unspoken words and buried truths.

“Wrenley.” His warning is low, almost a growl, but I scoff, refusing to let his authority silence me. The heat of my frustration pushes me closer to the edge, the sharpness of my words cutting through the tension in the air.

“Fine, I’ll play along.” I roll my eyes, the sarcasm dripping from my voice as I turn on my heel and make my way back upstairs. Each step feels heavy, the weight of his unvoiced secrets trailing behind me like a shadow I cannot shake off. 

As the door clicks shut, the muted echoes of the corridor fade, leaving only the charged atmosphere of my room. Xaden's piercing gaze meets mine with a tension that feels like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “You saw her attack?” he asks, his voice low and urgent, cutting through the thick silence that lingers between us.

“Hi darling, how are you? Did you have a nice trip wherever the fuck you went?” I retort, each word a careful jab, the remnants of my anger weaving into the fabric of our conversation. I rise from the edge of my bed, arms crossed defiantly, a barrier against the whirlwind of emotions he brings with him.

“Wrenley—” 

“No, you don’t get to come in here and interrogate me when you’ve been hiding things from me.” My voice snaps like a taut string, reverberating in the small space of my room. The look in his eyes—those deep, stormy depths—tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it? Ever since Threshing, you’ve been distant, hiding.” I push, determination fueling each word. “You promised we’d talk over a week ago, and I haven’t seen you since.” 

“I haven’t had the chance—”

“You’ve made that choice, Xaden.” I cut him off, stepping back as if to distance myself from the heat radiating from his presence, a heat that threatens to thaw my simmering anger. “You chose not to talk to me. You chose to disappear.”

“I’m protecting you.”

The words slice through the air, and I let out a sharp, humorless laugh that echoes off the walls. “From what? The truth? Or you?” 

He falls silent, the tension in his jaw tightening, his arms crossing defensively, a silent admission of the turmoil within.

“You don’t get to do that,” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my resolve. “You don’t get to push me away, then pretend it’s noble. I’m not a casualty you can shield.”

“I know that.” His voice softens, yet remains firm. “You’re not. You’re… the only part of my life that still feels like mine.”

My breath catches in my throat, but I refuse to let his words weaken my stance. “Then stop treating me like the enemy.” 

The room falls into a heavy silence, a charged moment where unspoken truths hang thick between us. Finally, he steps closer, the fire in his eyes dimming but still flickering with an intensity I can't ignore. 

“I’m sorry. For disappearing. For not coming to you. But I had to... things are happening.” 

“What things?” I ask, my curiosity laced with caution.

He hesitates, the weight of unshared knowledge pressing down upon him. “I can’t tell you right now.”

“Why?” I whisper, the hurt threading through my voice. “You know I’d help.”

“I know,” he breathes, regret tingeing his words. “And I hate it, but I need you to trust me now.” 

My silence lingers, heavy and uncertain, before I finally murmur, “I don’t know if I can.”

Xaden strides toward my squad at formation the next morning, each step echoing like a drumbeat of authority, his presence commanding the attention of everyone nearby.

“There’s a change to your squad roll,” he announces, his voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. 

“Wingleader?” I feel Dain tense beside me, his posture straightening instinctively as he snaps to attention. In contrast, I cross my arms defiantly, unwilling to give in to the gravity of his words. My gaze remains stubbornly averted, a silent protest against the shift looming over us. “We just absorbed four from the dissolution of the third squad.”

“Yes,” Xaden continues, and I sense the weight of his scrutiny pressing upon me, as if he can see beneath my facade. “Beldon, we’re making a roll change.” 

The squad leader from Second Squad, Tail Section, nods sharply, the formality of the moment underscoring the seriousness of our circumstances. I can almost feel the shifting alliances, the unspoken rivalries threading through the air like an invisible web. 

“Aetos, Vaughn Penley will be leaving your command, and you’ll be gaining Liam Mairi from Tail Section.” 

The name hangs in the air, and Liam’s warm smile greets me as he approaches. 

“I do not need a bodyguard.” Her voice is a whip-crack of defiance, an echo of the protective instincts that always seem to surge within her.

“Liam is statistically the strongest first-year in the quadrant,” Xaden doesn’t acknowledge Violet, still speaking to Dain. “He has the fastest time up the Gauntlet, hasn’t lost a single challenge, and is bonded to an exceptionally strong Red Daggertail. Any squad would be lucky to have him, and he’s all yours, Aetos. You can thank me when you win the Squad Battle in the spring.”

The tension thickens as Violet repeats her protest, a stubborn flicker in her eyes. Xaden steps closer, invading her space with an unyielding presence, the weight of his authority palpable. 

“You do, though, as we both learned last night,” he says, his voice dipping low, conveying an intensity that silences any further objection. “And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here, he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.”

“You’re overstepping,” she retorts, the challenge sparking between them like dry kindling. 

“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, the promise of his words hanging heavy in the air. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.”

“He is not sleeping in my room,” Viole asserted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms defiantly.

“Of course not. I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” Xaden's tone is laced with casual authority as he turns on his heel, the crisp fabric of his uniform snapping against the air as he strides away, heading back to reclaim his place at the front of the formation. I watch him go, a mixture of frustration and curiosity swirling in my chest.

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes beside me, his eyes focused straight ahead, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter glass. The tension radiating from him is palpable, an electric charge that resonates within the ranks of cadets around us.

“Tell me about it,” I mutter, my gaze shifting to the podium where Commandant Panchek is now stepping up, the weight of authority settling on his shoulders like a heavy mantle. The murmurs of my fellow cadets begin to fade as he clears his throat, a signal that commands silence and attention.

Dain and Violet have begun to argue again, the sharpness of their words cutting through the stillness that surrounds us. I can sense the undertow of their conversation is about last night’s chaotic events, an undercurrent of tension that seems to coil tighter with each passing moment.

“It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred,” Panchek calls out, his voice resonating across the courtyard like the tolling of a bell. “As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated. This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward?”

A ripple of anticipation flows through the assembled cadets as Xaden climbs the stairs to the dais. I hear Violet’s whisper behind me, laced with dread, “This is about me.” 

No shit. My heart races, the gravity of her words sinking in like a stone.

“Early this morning,” Xaden begins, his deep voice commanding and steady, “A rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds.” 

The courtyard erupts in a collection of shocked murmurs and gasps, and I feel Dain tense beside me, the muscles in his shoulders tightening in response to Xaden’s declaration. 

“As we all know, this is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense…” He continues, but the words fade into a dull thrum as I glare at him, irritation bubbling beneath the surface when he sites me as a witness along with Bodhi and Garrick. Why am I being dragged into this?

I follow my cousin and friend up the dais, the weight of the moment pressing against my chest as I take my place behind Xaden, a sentinel amidst the rising tension. His silhouette looms large, commanding, and I can feel the ripple of energy that surrounds him—a mix of authority and the palpable desire for justice. 

“But the attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived,” he continues, his voice rising like a tempest brewing on the horizon. “A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice. I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail.” His piercing gaze sweeps across the formation, landing with deliberate weight on one individual. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

A jolt of disbelief runs through me, a visceral reaction to the name that slips from his lips. Amber was not just any wingleader; she was a friend, someone I’ve trusted. The thought that she could let her anger lead her to such reckless betrayal churns a knot of confusion in my stomach. It wasn’t like her to break rules, not with the same ferocity as Dain, whose strict adherence to protocol was as unyielding as granite.

“I have committed no such crime!” Amber counters, her voice defiant yet tinged with an undercurrent of hurt. 

In the corner of my vision, I catch Dain and Violet embroiled in yet another heated exchange, their argument a tempestuous swirl of emotions. Suddenly, Dain reaches for Violet, and a surge of protective instinct wells within me. Without thinking, I leap off the dais, my feet striking the ground with determination as I sprint to his side, snatching his wrist in a grip that’s both firm and unyielding. “Don’t even think about it,” I admonish, the words barely leaving my lips before I feel the tension rising.

Xaden had confided in me about Dain’s signet not long after my promotion to Executive Officer, and the unsettling thought that Dain might use it on Violet gnaws at my resolve. What other secrets was he harboring?

“She was with them in my room,” Violet interjects, her voice steady yet strained, as Dain pulls his wrist free from my grip.

“That’s impossible. Let me see,” Dain insists, the edge of desperation creeping into his tone.

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it,” Violet threatens, her defiance a fierce flame against the chill of accusation.

“And missing a few fingers,” I promise, stepping between them, my stance firm as Xaden calls for the other wingleaders to gather, the air thick with the impending verdict. Dain looks at me in shock at my threat. 

A sudden tremor of wings catches my attention, and I turn to see Desa and six other dragons land on the citadel walls,including Tairn and Sgaeyl. 

“You’re using this to get your revenge on my family!” Amber shouts, her voice rising above the murmurs, storming toward the dais with fire in her eyes. Her accusation pierces the atmosphere, an arrow aimed directly at Xaden. When Violet nods, signaling she can handle Dain, I move for Amber, ready to stop her if she lashes out. 

“For not supporting your father’s rebellion,” Amber continues, her voice trembling with emotion, as I find myself back on the dais, standing with Garrick and Bodhi, the weight of the moment settling heavy on our shoulders. 

“The wingleaders have formed a quorum and are in unanimous agreement,” Xaden announces, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife, flanked by Nyra and Septon, while the commandant hovers in the background. “We find you guilty, Amber Mavis.”

I sat perched on the edge of the training mat, my eyes flitting between the first-years as they engaged in their rigorous drills. The clang of metal against metal resonated in the air, punctuated by shouts of encouragement and the occasional grunt of exertion. Dain had tasked me with taking notes for the upcoming squad games, his expectation hanging over me like a persistent shadow. 

Rhiannon and Violet had paired up, their movements fluid and calculated, each strike and parry a testament to their growing camaraderie. Nearby, Liam dominated the practice area, his fierce energy palpable as he effortlessly dispatched one cadet after another except for Dain.

“Come on, Wrennie,” Liam called out, his voice laced with playful challenge. “Come spar with me.” 

I couldn’t suppress a roll of my eyes at the nickname he had taken to using. “Do you like looking pretty, Liam? Because I can promise you won't be after our match.” 

“Chicken,” he muttered, retreating to the center of the mat, a smirk dancing on his lips. The playful banter ignited a spark of competition within me, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, adrenaline surging. 

“Alright, asshole,” I laughed, letting my sheaths drop to the edge of the mat with a thud. “Hit me.” 

“Now come on, Wrennie,” he chuckled, shedding his own weapons with a flourish. I lunged first, my fist swinging through the air, barely missing his head as he ducked beneath my strike. 

“That’s not fair,” he protested, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. 

I shrugged, a smile playing on my lips before I aimed a swift kick at his side, retracting my ankle just in time to evade his grasp. “Come on, Li. Show me why you’re on bodyguard duty.” 

Our exchanges turned into a lively dance, kicks and punches flying back and forth, a rhythm of playfulness and skill. But my concentration faltered when I caught a glimpse of Xaden moving nearby, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. 

“You could just talk to him,” Liam remarked, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Not happening,” I retorted, my gaze drifting past him to where Violet was watching a shirtless Xaden spar with Garrick, her eyes alight with focus. A sigh escaped my lips, and I began to gather my things. “I’m done for the night.” 

“Wren, did you get those notes I asked for?” Dain inquired as he approached, his expression expectant. I pushed the notebook into his hands, feeling a sense of release as I walked away from the gym, the weight of the evening’s tension lifting slightly with each step.

I was walking back from the flight field, a late night flight with Desa to clear my head. The halls lay in silence as I stepped through the threshold from the gauntlet field, the weight of my thoughts echoing in the stillness. The air was thick with the remnants of adrenaline and sweat, but as I turned a corner, a familiar scent drifted into my consciousness—churam, the potent drug that lingered like a forbidden whisper. My heart sank; Tairn and Sgaeyl were undoubtedly up to their usual mischief.

I felt a surge of responsibility course through me. Xaden was somewhere nearby, likely navigating the murky waters of his dragon’s behavior, and I was determined to find him. But then, a moan drifted through the corridor, sending chills racing down my spine.

“Violence.” 

My pulse quickened, a dread settling in my stomach. No… gods no…

“Do not go down there.”

“I have to see for myself,” I insisted, my steps quickening despite the sense of foreboding gnawing at my insides.

“Do not, Youngling.” Her voice was urgent but curiosity and fear propelled me forward.

What I stumbled upon made my heart plummet. Xaden had Violet cradled against him, his hands possessively gripping her hips, her fingers tangled in his dark hair as their bodies melded against the cold stone wall. I felt the world close in around me. 

In a moment of shock, my flight goggles slipped from my grasp, crashing to the ground with a crash of glass lenses shattering on concrete. The sound pulled them apart, and for a heartbeat, our eyes locked—my breath still from disbelief.

“Wren—” Xaden began, but I couldn’t bear to hear more. I turned on my heel, my heart racing, and fled down the corridor, each hurried step echoing the chaos whirling in my mind. 

As I dashed into the second-year hall, I nearly collided with Ridoc, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside me. 

“Hey, Wrenley. You okay?” he asked, a look of concern etched on his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Have you been with anyone tonight?” I blurted, urgency leaking into my tone.

“Youngling, this is a terrible idea.”

“So was thinking they could resist the mating bond,” I shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. 

Ridoc shrugged, nonchalant. “No, just going for a walk.” 

“Good.” I wrapped my fingers in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close as I backed myself against the wall. “Kiss me.” 

“Listen, I’ve dreamed about this but Xad—” 

“Xaden’s currently making out with Violet. So you can either kiss me right now or I’ll find someone else who will.” 

His hesitation hung in the air, heavy, before his lips finally met mine. 

Holy shit. Why is this first-year such a good kisser? 

Ridoc’s hands gripped my hips, firm and steady, drawing a quiet moan from deep within me, and in that moment, clarity shattered through the fog of my earlier shock. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

I pushed back against Ridoc’s chest, breaking the kiss with a gasp, but his hands remained anchored at my sides. “Ridoc—”

“Get your hands off her, first-year.” Xaden’s voice echoes down the hall, low and furious, commanding attention.

I could see Ridoc poised at the edge of uncertainty, ready to respond, but I couldn’t let this confrontation escalate. “Walk now,” I urged him, my voice a whisper. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on us, and I didn’t want to drag Ridoc into this. He hesitated, searching my eyes for reassurance, and when I nodded, he stepped back, the spark of confusion still dancing in his gaze.

“Thanks for probably the best kiss of my life,” he said, laughter threading through his words, a stark contrast to the brewing storm behind me. As he turned away, the brightness of his presence faded, leaving me enveloped in the oppressive darkness of my tangled emotions.

“Upstairs,” Xaden growled, his tone brooking no argument as he advanced towards me, each step heavy with unspoken fury. 

“You don’t tell me what to do.” I met his glare with defiance, striding towards the stairs that would lead me away from the chaos of this moment. 

“I can either tell you as your boyfriend or order you as your Wingleader.” The weight of his words hung in the air between us, deliberate and slow, as if he were carefully measuring the distance that had grown in the wake of his betrayal. His hand reached out, capturing my arm with an iron grip that sent a surge of irritation through me.

“Ex.” I corrected him sharply, pulling my arm from his hold as if it burned. “The minute you kissed her, you became my ex-boyfriend.” The finality of my words echoed in the silence, a stark declaration that felt both liberating and suffocating.

“Wrenley—” He started, but I cut him off, the name on my lips sharp and unforgiving.

“Leave me alone, Riorson.” I snapped, the use of his last name a calculated blow. 

With that, I turned on my heel and ascended the stairs, my heart pounding in time with each step. The world around me blurred, the hall fading into a haze of muted colors as I retreated into the sanctuary of my room. 

In the quiet that enveloped me, I sank down onto my bed, the soft comforter a stark contrast to the turmoil roiling within. Each breath I took felt heavy, laced with the remnants of Ridoc’s kiss and the bitter taste of Xaden’s betrayal. I pressed my palms against my temples, willing the confusion to dissipate, but the emotions only twisted tighter, a storm of conflict that refused to settle. 

This was not how it was supposed to be. The hope of what I thought we had was crumbling around me, leaving behind only the shards of memories. 

The air in the Battle Brief room felt electric, a charged undercurrent that echoed the tension swirling in my heart. I sat at the table, tracing the contours of the map with my eyes, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts that refused to settle. The heavy silence around me pulsed with unspoken words, and I could feel the weight of Bodhi’s gaze boring into the side of my head, an anchor to my spiraling emotions.

“Will you talk to him? Please?” Bodhi pleaded, dropping into the seat beside me with a sense of urgency that made me flinch. The way he leaned forward, his brow furrowed with concern, only deepened the ache in my chest. I didn't even glance his way, keeping my focus locked on the intricate lines of the map before me.

“Nope,” I replied curtly, my voice devoid of any softness. My eyes remained trained on the colors and symbols, as if they held the answers to a riddle I couldn't decipher. 

“Wren–” Bodhi’s voice broke with a hint of desperation, a tone that felt achingly familiar yet infuriatingly misplaced.

“If you dry humped the girl you swore wouldn’t get between you and your girlfriend, would you expect to be forgiven?” I snapped, my words slipping out sharper than I intended, slicing through the air and drawing the attention of those around us like a flash of lightning. The moment felt like a spotlight illuminating my simmering rage, and I swallowed hard, fighting against the heat rising in my cheeks.

“He did what?” My cousin’s voice rumbled from behind me, a growl of disbelief that cut through the murmur of the room. I could feel his heated gaze, a burning scrutiny that threatened to pierce my defenses, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want to see the disappointment etched on his face, the worry that lingered in the air like smoke.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer popped up from the row in front of me, concern etched across his features. His voice was a lifeline, but I refused to grasp it. 

“Fine, ready for class. Drop the topic.” My tone was clipped, a hard shell to protect the tender wound lying beneath the surface. I could feel the shadows curling around my knee, familiar tendrils that sought to draw me into their comforting embrace. But today, their presence felt suffocating, a reminder of Xaden’s betrayal that clung to me like a second skin.

I tried to brush them off, to reclaim my space, but they returned, as relentless as my thoughts. One of them snaked around my wrist, securing itself in a grip that felt both possessive and binding, an echo of what I wanted to escape. With every passing moment, it became harder to ignore the connection that still tethered me to him, no matter how much I wanted to sever it.

As Bodhi leaned closer, the weight of his concern settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. “Wren, you can’t ignore this forever. He needs you.”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to scream. Did he really think it was that simple? “I don’t care how he feels,” I said, my voice low but resolute. The truth was that I did care—deeply. But the thought of facing Xaden, of confronting the raw emotions swirling within me, felt insurmountable.

The clock ticked away the seconds, each chime a reminder that time was moving forward, even as I felt stuck in this moment, this suffocating reality. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the rising tide of emotions that threatened to break through when we were dismissed from class. 

The air in my room felt thick when I finally made it upstairs. I leaned heavily against the armoire, its wooden surface cool against my back, and willed myself to breathe through the tumult of emotions that surged within me. 

As if conjured by my thoughts, Xaden’s voice floated over from my desk. “You ready to talk now, Little Bird?”

My heart raced, and I practically jumped out of my boots at the sound of his voice, the term he always used—a nickname wrapped in layers of history, affection, and now, betrayal. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped, the words sharper than intended.

“I’ve always called you that,” he replied, a hint of stubbornness threading through his tone as he lifted his boot-clad feet, resting them on my desk as if claiming territory he no longer had the right to. His casual demeanor belied the tension crackling in the air, but I could feel it, thick like fog, suffocating and inescapable.

“My family and friends call me that,” I retorted, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, a futile attempt to shield my heart from the reality of the situation. “You aren’t either of those things.”

His face softened, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps?—crossing his features. “Tairn and Sgaeyl forgot to shield last night. That’s all it was.” The way he dismissed it, so effortlessly, ignited a fresh wave of anger within me.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I recalled the past. “You used to go out, smoke a little, and then come sit in my room while I finished homework.” My arms tightened around myself, an unconscious shield against the vulnerability clawing at my insides. “You weren’t planning to see me last night at all.”

I held my breath, watching him for a reaction. We both knew it was true; the unspoken acknowledgment hung between us like a dark cloud, heavy and oppressive.

“We should just call it now, Xay. We weren’t going to survive after graduation.” The words spilled out of me, bitter and raw, a resignation that echoed in the hollow of my chest.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly so set on us being done.” He stood, closing the distance between us with a determination that sparked both hope and dread within me. “We survived this long. I’m not giving up on us.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, my resolve wavering as the sting of unshed tears threatened to break free. “You and Violet will always be together, every station, every mission. I’ll get sent somewhere else after I graduate.” My voice cracked, and I hated how weak I sounded, how the reality of our impending separation clawed at my heart with relentless fingers.

“And if I said I’d marry you right after my graduation?” His gaze pierced through the air, searching for something in my eyes, a flicker of hope perhaps.

“You wouldn’t be doing it because you love me.” The words felt like a knife, sharp and painful as I forced them out. “You’d be doing it to prove a point. So please—please—just let this go.”

He nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my refusal, and as he turned toward the door, a heaviness settled in the room, almost tangible. “I already re-did the wards on your room, by the way.” He paused, casting a glance back at me, and in that fleeting moment, I saw a younger version of him—a boy who had once promised me the world, who had held my hand through nightmares. “No one can enter without your permission. Not even me.”

I nodded, my heart aching at the finality of his words, as he opened the door, the wood creaking softly in the quiet. “Xaden,” I called out, desperation lacing my voice.

He glanced back, and for a heartbeat, time hung still. 

“I do still care about you. I just can’t in the way I always have.”

“I understand.” The admission felt like a stone dropped in a still pond, rippling outwards, creating waves of loss and longing. “Good night, Wrenley.”

And then he was gone.

next part

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[nionom-art]

Oke, I love so much these two, I have strong headcannon about them😅

🐞Bitter Bug💔; Marinette actuslly knows who Adrien is at the begining, and admires him, being succesful in an industry she too wants to be the part of. However, Adrien stayes Chloé friend, sometimes participating in her sceemes, not knowing better. However, he is still a good person, just absolutly clueless. So he's often very sweet with Marinette, and either sabotage Chloé when he sences it's too far or try to make it up for Marinette. Therefor, Marinette constantly in a LoveMe-LoveMeNot-LoveMe cicle with him, developing this Bitter bug state. Because of this whole situation, Mari's natural paranoia is even stronger, not knowing Adrien's next step... So she es even more secretive than Seria Marinette, like giving out Miraculous in total secret, and even taking away instantly when their holder is relevald, like QB or Ryuko (or even the whole Miracle queen group). She sometimes pushing peaple even (too) far away... Like

🐈‍⬛Cat Stalker👁️; So this Adrien is actually clueless, and can read peaple very hard, so he's a bit on a lookout. For everything. He tries to be accepted, this is why he is "Catwalker" variant, not Cat noir. Despite his secound to non social skill, he feels Chloé is not the best influence and feeling Marinette keeps distance from him, despite him being very friendly... Problem arrives when the first heroes appear, but he doesn't know where are they coming from... And he really wants to have a good impression on the heroes, but how, if he doesn't know who's under the mask? So, as his name suggest, he starts to "investigate", basicly learning all the heroes identity in the progress...

💔👁️; Their dynamic actually would be very good at the begining, as both has a sharp eye for details. However, this Adrien also tries to find out who BB is, not neceserly from love, just to understand her more... This is bothersome for BB, but lets it slide, on one hand doubling down on secrets (yet, funnily enought, here, CS discoveres Fu himshelf, not by Mari sending him to him...) but on the other hand begining to open up a bit, as CS makes her feel he REALLY wanna know her, the real, naked truth who she is. The breakpoint is when BB learns that CS knows everybody identity, deeming him a reliability too... They part ways, still doing hero work, occasional team ups, when BB still tries to reclaim his Miraculous, CS only willing to give up if she too relevals her civilians selfe... But despite this, their separate investigations lead them both to their version of Hawk moth or whomever... Reader decides if they can put aside their differences, or their un-trusting will be their ultimate failing...

💔 Sorry for this long stuff, hope you and your sister find it interesting 👁️

Wow this is very well thought out- I really love when you guys create stories and head cannons for me artwork, it’s awesome!

I’ll just leave this here so everyone can read it :)

[sugar-petals]

Hi again caro 🌟 you know how cillian murphy is being compared to yoongi and vice versa (they share aries/ashwini placement in their big 3 in vedic ), the ketuvian eye / deadpan look but actually being softies on the inside . Plus cillian's face is 100%female and 100% male got me wondering if he's a classic type (same amount of yin /yang) or maybe a gamine like yoongi cause that man always looks young ! Thanks !

cillian's kibbe type | analysis

i endlessly deliberated on his image ID way before, too, he's such a tough case — but hear me out: i'm nominating soft classic.

TR and FG being his only other options of highly androgynous types imo. i'll narrow it down ("crossing out" method, below) maybe we can find some consensus. so:

he consistently dresses pure classic off the screen, at least that i am sure of. symmetrical, standard tailoring, mid-contrast colors. goes in the right direction. well-fitted, puts emphasis on his face. not THE spectacular outfit, sometimes too stark, but pure classic works for his body shape. reversely, C does not fit pure romantics and all naturals because of their rounded/blunt shoulders bulking out the sharp edge. but for cillian, the standard tux, easy. the more dapper, the better for him.

CROSSING OUT: R, FN, SN, N. (9 possible types left!)

2. now, he got famous for characters that dress dramatic classic (peaky blinders, scarecrow, oppenheimer...), but i think those lines are too long/drowning from a distance and without movie magic. yes, the warm tone of the right coat contributes as clashing since he's cool-toned. but proportion-wise, and at 5'7, all yang-dominant types disqualify for him anyway. too large, wide, boxy.

CROSSING OUT: D, SD, DC. (6 possible types left!)

3. then again, cillian being such a renowned classic dresser and directors agreeing says something. nolan always shows him as a C! it is his thing. but: we have to accommodate that cillian's not in a yang height range, and an androgynous face calls for androgynous fashion. put him in a masculine-coded Natural styling (scruffy beard, loose outfit & hair, bulky fabric), it's a disaster. proves how we crosses out N for him early. it needs more yin.

4. puzzlingly... he can do some dramatic lines, even as a smaller guy. that means he's either TR, or an FG, or some classic that can handle a tailored silhouette. Cs are notoriously style chameleons as long as a frame is kept. see my dilemma? 😭 it can go either way.

he looks awesome in that matrix-type dramatic ID fashion, hair sleek, colors dark, sharp edges. maybe he's a true winter or true summer, that's why D colors are fine with him. at least we can exclude pure gamine and soft gamine because they crave the line break and more pizzazz. pure C is also overwhelmed by anything that goes off balance. subtypes are more flexible.

CROSSING OUT: C, SG, G (3 possible types left!!)

finally, why are TR, FG, SC my top 3 picks? because they all combine shorter height with a mix of "feminine and masculine" essence/lines. he has to be among these 3.

5. i see why any gamine is a viable option generally, cillian being short. but i think it's too much for him to pull off, and people hardly perceive him as petite and cute and moon-faced. for yoongi, that's immediately obvious. most SGs have a face like a young romantic type. worlds apart from cillian's insane jaw/cheekbones.

cillian looks too sophisticated, mature, structured, sexual, otherworldly for SG. not sweet, baby-like, cute. classics age gracefully and especially "like fine wine" as well, it's not limited to G types. much like D becomes more dignified with age and truly grows into their severe, tall look, or N types gain even more rugged charm, etc.

style-wise... G color blocks, stripes, details, all seemingly turn him into someone else. the gamine hair chop is unflattering, too. patterns transform him into another person. gamine fashion is a mixed bag on cillian, while soft classic never misses.

CROSSING OUT: FG

6. cillian's height does say G or R, and yes i know, many type him TR. i could agree with it; but still, his figure isn't full/soft/fully rounded (R) or compact (G) enough in my opinion. TR does have some chiseled D characteristics like him, but you have to see softness and curve first, as with all romantics.

compare jimin or billy dee williams (R), such a different vibe! R and TR are sexiness machines. more rounded thighs, nothing works without waist emphasis, rounded chest area, figure 8 body, more rounded nose and romantic curls, the list goes on! cillian's body type is also short like that, but not as curve-dominant, but balanced (shoulders, legs, waist all line up and are straighter = balanced = classic).

question is, does cillian's extreme dieting interfere here so he's harder to type? styling-wise, i do think TR clothing is something else on him, but it steals the limelight or overdefines his face. i also feel like waist definition isn't 1000% paramount for him. plus, kibbe writes for TR: "Stiff fabrics, straight lines, and geometry are to be avoided at all costs!" — While Cillian easily dresses best in exactly that 😂 (WOW!)

imo TR also ages him unfairly, and all you look at is the ornaments, not him. soft classic is still a romantic-influenced subtype, yes, so it does flatter him, below is a memorable look, don't get me wrong. but it takes the focus. i only see how fantastic the garment is, while cillian is secondary, and his face is suddenly too stark, devoid of definition. it's too high glam. i wish we'd have more pictures of him dressing TR to compare, that might be another problem.

7. SC is the only type left to explain his mysterious looks. recap: he's successfully classic-dressed, has a yin height plus a face that combines yin and yang, his silhouette is balanced not curved, all his huge movie roles are C image typecastings, that's SC.

i do think the polished, soft, but shapely elegant character of this type is expressed in him. SC is a highly androgynous type for men, think ATEEZ yeosang. but SC men are so well-dressed in controlled hairstyles and very masculine period or past fashion, ironically, because the fabrics are soft, plush, symmetrical, and tailored. that definitely applies to cillian 10/10. his face simply pops.

cillian looks best dressed minimally, always symmetrical, slight wave in the hair, head to toe theme > mixing styles, understating, no color experiments, basics > overdressing, his signature for a reason. symmetrical coat plus soft woven fabric underneath sounds like it. puts the focus on him while at the same time being well-styled. he was born for timeless, subtle fashion.

and in general... who could dress classic so impactfully, anyways?

give this beautiful, stylish man every available award for what he does so well!

[bullet-prooflove]

ONE WILD NIGHT SERIES: Wildest Dreams - Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Summary: Frank gets an unexpected surprise in the E.D.

Companion piece to:

Ivy - Frank gets a tattoo to commerate the woman he loves.

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you're dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Commitment - You create a fun way of showing Frank your commitment to the relationship.

At Your Alter - You discover Frank's tattoo when you undress him for the first time.

All In (NSFW) - You and Frank take a big step forward.

Slut (NSFW) - Frank gets a little bratty after a bad day.

Nightmare Fuel - Frank’s been waiting for the fall to come.

Boo Fucking Hoo - Your forced to defend yourself after you’re attacked outside the hospital.

The Incident - Frank’s world is thrown into turmoil when he learns about your attack.

The Filing Cabinet - Things haven't been the same between you and Frank since the attack.

The Perfect Storm - Frank's time in North Carolina almost leads to his downfall.

The House - Frank reflects on his decision to sell the house.

Hawaii - Frank travels to Hawaii to lay it all out on the line.

Frank doesn’t attend Jana’s wake.

It’s too much heartache for him, too much temptation. Booze may not have been his drug of choice but it’s a slippery slope especially with NA. He opts to take Shen’s shift instead, allowing the other man to attend the event with Cici.

Work and the lawsuit are the only things that have been keeping him out of own head recently. His house has been sold and as agreed with you back in Hawaii, he’s now living at your place until he can find a new one.

“You just want someone to look after your garden.” He had teased you when you suggested the idea.

“That’s an added bonus.” You’d informed him as the two of you sipped coffee on the balcony of his hotel room, watching the sunrise in the distance.

Being around your things, it balances him. It reminds him that you aren’t gone for good, that despite the fact it’s been three months, you’re still planning to come back to him.

It’s ten pm when you turn up in the E.D, to say that Frank is surprised is an understatement. The last time he spoke to you, you were on the beach playing with your nephew and now you’re here in Pittsburgh, dressed up like a wet dream. You’re wearing a black sequined dress that cinches at the waist and thigh high boots he desperately wants locked around his hips. Your hair is swept to one side, falling over your features in a dark wave. He can’t speak, he can only stare as you stalk towards him in a long wool coat that wards off the nighttime chill.

“So, I thought you were going to be at the party and I wanted to surprise you.” You say as you stand before him with your hands on your hips. “And now I feel like an idiot for not asking.”

“I’m being a good boy, making sure I don’t compromise myself.” He tells you, signing off the patient’s chart with a final flourish before setting the tablet down on the desk. “So are you back? Like back, back? For real back?”

“Yeah, I dropped my stuff off at the house this afternoon.” You say, tucking your hands into your pockets as you look around you. “I feel very overdressed for this conversation, like super overdressed.”

“You look like every single one of my wildest dreams come true.” He says, biting his lower lip as he reaches out, his fingertips trailing along the lapels of the coat. “What’s the chance that you’ll still be wearing this when I get in later?”

“At seven in the morning? After a 12 hour flight from Hawaii this afternoon? We’re lucky I’m still upright right now.” You tell him, shaking your head. “I just couldn’t wait any longer to see you. I wanted to come by and say I’m back and… that I don’t want you to move out of the house. Seeing your stuff around like that… it kind of felt like home and I want that for us. I want my house to be our house.”

“Ivy Williams.” He smiles, his palms skating down to your waist, drawing you closer against his firm body. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Well you’re already kinda moved in so this is just a formality.” You say as you tilt your face up to meet his gaze. “I was going to ask you at the party, where there would have been fire dancers, rose walls, probably sex in the bathroom. All of that would have added the element of romance I was looking for.”

“Well I am very sorry I missed all that but my answer would have still been the same.” He teases you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.

“And that would be…”

“Yes.” He laughs, his lips brushing over yours. “Yes Ivy, I would love to live with you.”

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[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

Part 11 The Bomb Dropped

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every motion as he called out once more, “MATHEO!” His voice echoed into the distance, but it was futile—his son was already too far to hear him. With a resigned sigh, he turned back toward the house, only to meet Chessy's piercing gaze through the kitchen window.

Carlos narrowed his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that… I don’t know anything,” Chessy muttered flatly before pulling the curtains shut, leaving Carlos to grimace and trying to endure the growing ache in his head.

“Where on earth did he get the idea I was going to adopt her?” Carlos growled softly, the words more for himself than anyone else. A loud, familiar car horn snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned toward the terrace just as Meredith’s unmistakable red BMW pulled into the driveway.

Carlos waved half-heartedly before slumping into a nearby chair, his exhaustion apparent. It didn’t take long for Meredith to bound over, sunglasses perched casually on her face. Without hesitation, she slipped them off, revealing a mischievous smile that could disarm anyone.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” Meredith asked, her tone light and teasing as she perched herself on Carlos’s lap like it was second nature.

Carlos shot her a deadpan look. “Should I answer that?”

Meredith raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Bad mood? I know what’ll fix that. Whiskey?”

Carlos sighed, closing his eyes in surrender. “Double, please.”

Grinning like she’d just won a prize, Meredith dug into her bag, taking a small red box with an ornate bell inside. Carlos blinked, confusion crossing his face as Meredith rang the bell with theatrical flair.

“Chess! Chess… Chessy! This is what the house needed!” Meredith declared, the bell ringing obnoxiously loud.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Excuse me?” chessy appeared moments later, looking less than thrilled at the sound. He glanced between the bell, Meredith’s gleeful expression, and Carlos’s tired face.

“Chessy, could you bring us some whiskey? For Carlitos—make it a double, please,” Meredith said, smiling innocently.

Chessy gave Carlos a look that screamed, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Carlos, however, just gave her the most pitiful, pleading expression.

“Mercy, Chess. I’ve already got a migraine,” Carlos murmured.

With a reluctant nod, Chessy disappeared into the house, leaving Carlos and Meredith alone. Meredith leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, have you told him yet?”

Carlos groaned, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of the question. “Yes, I already told him.”

Meredith’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “And… what did he say?”

Carlos threw his hands up in despair. “He lost it! He even started speaking French. French! I didn’t even know Matheo could speak another language. Dios mío, I don’t know what’s wrong with that kid.”

Sliding off Carlos’s lap, Meredith moved behind him and began kneading his tense shoulders. “Let me talk to him, strongman,” she said softly, her lips brushing against Carlos’s ear.

Carlos shook his head, still unconvinced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. He’s… not in the mood.”

Meredith chuckled, unfazed. “Please, you’ve got to have a step-mom and son conversation sometime. Let me handle it.”

Carlos frowned, clearly skeptical. Meredith, however, was already halfway out the door when she paused, turning back with a sly smirk. “Oh, before I go, I like your shirt better unbuttoned.” She deftly undid the first two buttons of Carlos’s shirt, running his fingers lightly over the fabric. “I like the hair on your chest,” she added with a wink before striding away.

****

The news of the engagement was still fresh, and it sat like a giant elephant in Mattia brain. Sitting on the old wooden swing set in the backyard, the air between them was tense, charged with unspoken thoughts. Meredith, dressed impeccably as usual, approached with her signature smile that was equal parts charm and condescension.

She knocked lightly on the metal frame of the swing, the sound echoing in the quiet garden. "Knock, knock," she said playfully, her tone dripping with forced sweetness as she perched on the swing beside him.

The younger boy, arms crossed and gaze firmly fixed on the ground, didn’t bother looking up. “The news of the engagement was kind of a shock, huh?” Meredith said, breaking the silence with a practiced air of nonchalance.

“Basically,” came the short reply, his voice low but firm. He kicked at the dirt, clearly uninterested in making this conversation easier for Meredith.

“You know,” Meredith began, leaning back on the swing as if she were talking to an old friend, “I remember what it was like to be nine. Such a wonderful age. You’re just starting to feel like a man. And, believe it or not, soon you’ll understand what it’s like to be in love.”

Mattia scoffed, finally glancing up at Meredith with a raised brow. “Me? I don’t think so. I don’t even have my molars yet.”

Meredith let out a soft laugh, the kind that felt more patronizing than genuine. “Well, take it from someone who got their molars early in life—being in love is a fantastic mystery. It’s magical, really. It takes a man and a woman and—”

Mattia cut her off with a sharp look. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything while you’re trying to get all mushy, but I already know what mystery my dad sees in you.”

Meredith blinked, caught off guard for a split second before regaining her composure. “Oh, you do, do you?” she said, her voice now slightly more clipped.

“Yeah.” Mattia’s leaned forward, his tone casual but his words deliberate. “You’re young, you’re beautiful, and you’re, well, sexy. And hey, the man only human.”

For a moment, Meredith looked genuinely pleased, even flattered, but then Mattia continued, “But if you ask me, marriage is supposed to be about more than just sex, right?”

Meredith’s smile faltered, her lips thinning slightly. “Boy, your father seriously underestimates you,” she said, shaking her head. “But don’t think for a second that I do, sweetheart.”

Mattia tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Being young and beautiful isn’t a crime, you know,” Meredith continued, her voice now smooth and confident again. “And for your information, I adore your father. He’s exactly the kind of man I’ve always planned on marrying. This is the real deal, honey. And nothing you do is going to come between us.”

Mattia narrowed his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Angel, but you’re not the only love in Carlos Sainz life anymore. Get over it.”

“If this is the real deal,”Mattia said, his voice steady, “then my dad’s money has absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to marry him, right?”

Meredith’s jaw tightened for the briefest moment before she leaned forward, her eyes cold. “Okay, let’s cut the act. You listen, and you listen good,” she hissed, her tone no longer sugar-coated. “I am marrying your father in two weeks, whether you like it or not. So I suggest you don’t tangle with me anymore. You’re in way over your head. Is that clear?”

Mattia stared at her, unflinching. “Crystal.”

Meredith straightened up, smoothing the invisible wrinkles in her designer dress. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page,” she said with a tight smile before standing up and striding back toward the house.

Mattia stayed on the swing, his grip tightening on the chains. His eyes followed Meredith’s retreating figure, and a small, determined smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wasn’t backing down that easily.

prev chap

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO MISC. DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ⚕ ASCLEPIUS “GOD OF MEDICINE, HEALING, REJUVENATION, AND PHYSICIANS” 🩺 {WAVE 4.0}

A/N: Alright time for the final god for Wave 4.0 and the long awaited Asclepius! I forgot that Asclepius technically does have legacies of demigods and even has a direct demigod in the books, but I can only imagine how much easier it would be to have at Camp Halfblood. Hope you enjoy this cause I may went overboard with it and also hope you enjoy which canon demigod I chose for the mini-story!  MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD H/CS MASTERLIST LINK: [VOL. 1: TUMBLR] || [VOL. 2: TUMBLR] || [AO3]

When you get claimed, you catch the smell of antiseptic mixed with a melody of herbs. The smell of the sharp antiseptic pulls you into a memory of being in a hospital with a kind doctor who gives you lollipops, and the smell of rustic herbs pulls you in an apothecary that transports you into a multiculture of countries and their shared and unique use of homemade medicine. You hear murmuring and you look up to see a floating symbol of a snake intertwining up a stick. You knew that symbol, since it was practically seen on every hospital and ambulance, but you were confused on why you didn’t see two snakes.

You’re immediately steam-rolled by a boy named Lester who is oddly emotional, going on about meeting his grandchild and you’re super confused, until some kids introduce themselves as the children of Apollo, and the person hugging you is Apollo himself. You’re then taken to be educated that you’re the child of Ascelpius, the God of Medicine, who is also the son of Apollo; hence the introduction (Though you were told that he could go without being called Grandpa).

You got confused for a moment because you thought you were a child of Hermes (Apollo screeched-) because you thought the symbol of Hermes was the snakes intertwining on the staff. You were reassured that this happens a lot and you were gently reminded that Hermes’ symbol with the Caduceus was intertwined with two serpents with the wings on it, while Asclepius’ symbol was the Rod of Asclepius. You were told people get mistaken due to the US Army Medical corp usage of Caduceus in 1902 because a single officer insisted on it. Everyone thinks it was a child of Hermes who did that, and Apollo and Spike (the snake on Asclepius’ rod) has been salty over it ever since.

Although you have a cabin of your own, you’re practically living at the Apollo cabin. In fact, if it weren’t for the bedtime curfew, you would be sleeping at the Apollo cabin and the medical ward. Though the Asclepius cabin is nothing to sneeze at either. 

The Asclepius cabin is a rather rustic yet sleek looking cabin from the outside. When you open the door, you’re immediately hit with the combination of antiseptic and herbs, just like how you were claimed. All over the walls, there are shelves and cabinets filled with medicine and all kinds of herbs and ingredients to make your own concoctions. There are glass vials and jars filled with materials with neatly yet bold scrawled names, all clean and regularly dusted. There are tools lined up on benches with pots, vials, beakers. There are bunches of herbs drying on racks or hanging from the rafters, practically covering it and it seemed there wasn’t even a roof to begin with, just a canopy of herbs and plants. Off to one side, you can see a sunroom filled with plants and animals as well, and on the other side there is a crafting room filled that were lined with prosthetics, canes, wheelchairs, an eye station, etc. If it weren’t for the beds and the designated areas for living, anyone would think the Asclepius cabin was just a pharmacy, apothecary, and so forth.

People come to your cabin just as much as they go to the Apollo cabin. In fact, if possible, they would’ve placed your cabins side by side if it was possible or in walkable distance. You two are often going back and forth with prescriptions, inquiries, delivering medicine and so forth that its hard to tell from head to tails who is going to which, and whether it was a child of Apollo or Asclepius going back and forth. It's hard to tell but since the arrival of Asclepius children, the distribution of workload has evened since the children of Apollo don’t have to take care of anything medical that is under the sun. Moving forward, there is at least one child of Asclepius with every child of Apollo.

Unlike the children of Apollo, because the children of Asclepius are solely children of medicine, healing, and are basically mini physicians, you’re pretty much always making new concoctions or pursuing new possibilities in medicine. While in extreme cases, it's not unheard of being a medicine case nut and being completely obsessed with it. The only thing you’re not allowed to attempt to make is anything to do with a revival cure or immortality, much to the chagrin of many Asclepius demigods.

“Sola dosis facit venenum (The Dose makes the poison) or “All things are poison, and nothing is without poison; the dosage alone makes it so a thing is not a poison” by Paracelsus is hammered into every child of Asclepius as medicine can easily become poison, and poison can be medicine if given right. With that note, every child of Asclepius is just as knowledgeable in poison and toxicology just as much as medicine and healing.

If people think the demigods of Asclepius are unarmed and not a threat, then they are very wrong. They know more about the body than they do and what makes them healthy and how to destroy it. They are just as knowledgeable in poisoning as in medicine so that is their weapon. If ever pushed to take up arms, they wield their swords with surgical precision and their arrows will always hit your vitals. With their innate, growing observation of the body, they are able to tell your strengths and weaknesses, and how to use them against you as much as they use their knowledge to help their patients.

They are the definition of the meme “I’m a Healer, but…” *clocks gun* 

Out of the minor or miscellaneous gods and being their demigod, you’re going to be rather well known through camp. Chiron rather sees you as he instructed Asclepius and helped him pursue his infamous medical knowledge. The children of Athena find themselves to you because of their mother as you share your wisdom and knowledge with each other. Mr. D has grown to your presence, whether he liked it or not initially, as you keep appearing to inquire about mental illnesses and how it applies to the average demigod. He begrudgingly answered but his tone changed when you began to ask him about ‘madness’ and how would one reproduce it, alongside what type of alcohol would be beneficial. Sufficient to say, Chiron cut you off from certain acts of medicine even if you tried to argue that wine could be a medicine and poison, and you had to know! For Healing sake!

You’re a common sight among the children of Demeter as you help with the crops and growing medical herbs for usage. At the same time, you’re also often around the Satyrs and Nymphs as you explore the woods and come across nature’s treasures and bounties.

You’re also unusual to be seen around the children of Aphrodite or those interested in physical beauty as you give them diagnoses on their health and how to maintain their skin, weight, hair health, and etc. It’s also not unusual to see a child of Asclepius having a dedicated list of orders of homemade makeup, beauty and hygiene products as it can also fall under medicine and rejuvenation. 

At some point, the children of Asclepius are given strict time off because they can be seen literally all over camp tending and doing everything under the sun that could be considered medicine, healing, and rejuvenation. 

Jason adjusted his glasses, taking them on and off, blinking and looking around, marveling at the clarity. 

“And here’s the eyedrops; both regular and no-regular for you” you commented as you finished bottling the new mixture. “You should put eyedrops whenever you feel tired or at least once a day, and take your glasses off occasionally.” You scrawled on “Regular Mortal Eyedrops” with a black sharpie to make sure. “These eye drops,” you pointed to the specially made eye drops, “Are made so you can see for a brief period of time without your glasses if the situation calls for it. Don’t put them on too regularly or use them as a replacement for your glasses since it acts as a steroid for your eyes. They’re an aid but not a replacement.” 

“Thanks for making time for me” Jason thanked as he gave you a smile. “It’s kind of funny, Esclepius- I mean, Asclepius gave me these glasses, and now you’re helping me with my eyes.” 

You wrote down in your records and gave an amused smile. “Its no problem. If anything it’s nice to hear about my godly father from someone who has actually met him.”

“He was rather helpful” told Jason as he pocketed the eyedrops. “Even if the on the spot diagnosis seemed rather sudden.” 

You shrugged as you wrote a copy for Jason to take back. “We’re doctors, its what we do anyways. You’re a fighter Jason, you automatically scan your surroundings right?” 

“Yeah, being a leader for my cohort makes it necessary. Especially since we weren’t treated that well, so there was no end to mistreatment.” 

“There we go” you said before putting away the ingredients in their proper place, while at the same time, double checking your stock. 

“So how’s it been being a child of Asclepius? We have a Son of Esclepius back at Camp Jupiter as head healer and I always see him working” asked Jason, a bit concerned when he thought back to the line of people before him. 

“Well, it has been busy since I was claimed,” you did admit, “while I admit it’s been stressful, it’s also very rewarding.”

You thought back to when you were claimed. The confusion about the sign of your claim when you thought you were a child of Hermes, but then you were all told by Chiron that you’re a child of Asclepius, and their staff were similar looking-

Then being ambushed by a person named Lestor, to only be told later that that was Apollo as a human, and is your grandfather- 

Then you were told you were absolutely forbidden from doing certain medical practices. Lest for malpractice reasons but more in the line of “Your godly father did the forbidden and played god, and got smited by Zeus/Hades, so we’re going to avoid all that” 

It was a whirlwind with being delved into medical tasks as you and the Apollo cabin working together, learning from each other and making friends, and then came the line of people coming for consultation and meds- it was at first overwhelming but over time, it became a part of your routine and you were having fun. 

“Not to mention, I also get to research into all the medicine and poisons I like” you chuckled to yourself, your fingers tingling with excitement at all the possibilities in front of you. Not only did you have more resources, you also had other means to produce unusual effects with magic now in the mix! Jason gave you a look of bewilderment before smiling at your excited look. He then held out his hand to you, “Well, I’m glad you’re settling in nicely. I was only here in this camp for a short while but just wanna say ‘Welcome to Camp Halfblood’. I hope you enjoy yourself and I’ll be in your care!”

[r3starttt]

ACT THREE

PAIRING: Caitlyn x reader

SUMMARY: Almost all scenes with Caitlyn in act three but with reader.

CW: too short. no sex scene cs that's too precious. Caitvi mention if u wish.

01 | 02

TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @nosferatuv @Sss @v1ntagecl0wn @etar @imfckingfantastic

You found yourself once again in the warmth of the green room, though the comfort it once offered felt distant now, dulled by the weight of everything left unspoken. The soft hum of voices filled the air—Caitlyn and Maddie, their words colliding in a blur of hushed urgency—but to you, they might as well have been whispers, too distant, quieted by the crackling fire. Each syllable melted into the background, indistinct, like echoes you were no longer part of.

"Maybe we can negotiate," Maddie suggested, her voice laced with a hesitant hope that felt fragile, almost naive.

Caitlyn’s gaze snapped to her, weary. "Not with Ambessa," her voice stripped of any pretense, raw with a certainty that left no room for argument. "I saw it in her eyes."

She looked so lost then, so deeply entrenched in the turmoil that gnawed at her every thought. The small wooden boat in her hands—a delicate thing, carved with precision and care—was gripped too tightly, the fragile edges pressing into her fingers as though it might shatter beneath the weight of her anxiety. Her body leaned heavily against the fireplace mantel, shoulders tense, gaze fixed on the floorboards as if searching for answers among the grain of the wood. She gnawed at the soft flesh of her inner lip, her hand resting on her hip, fingers curled so tightly that her knuckles paled.

"She will burn Piltover to the ground for my betrayal." The words left her in a whisper, but there was no mistaking the conviction in them, the bitter truth she had long since resigned herself to.

You sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet space between you. "You can't blame yourself," the words slipped from your lips with a gentleness you hoped might ease the weight on her shoulders.

For a moment, Caitlyn didn’t respond, only stared at you with an unreadable expression, her eyes scanning your face as if searching for something she didn’t quite believe in. Then, with a sigh of her own, she placed the little wooden boat onto the fireplace's wooden ledge, the gesture slow, almost reverent—like setting down a burden too heavy to hold any longer.

"I don't need consolation," she said, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips, the words clipped and edged with something dangerously close to frustration.

Before you could respond, Maddie reached out, fingers brushing tentatively toward Caitlyn’s shoulder—an attempt at comfort, an anchor in the storm. But Caitlyn pulled away with that familiar flicker of irritation, her patience worn thin, the same maddening annoyance that had become second nature to her.

"I need a plan."

And there it was again—the endless cycle of Caitlyn burying her grief beneath the cold steel of action, of pushing forward even as the ground crumbled beneath her feet. You watched her, feeling the distance that stretched between you, and wondered how much longer she could keep carrying it all before it finally consumed her- consumed you.

The door swung open with a force that shattered the heavy silence in the room, its hinges groaning in protest. Maddie’s sharp frown caught your attention just a heartbeat before the heavy thud of boots echoed against the wooden floors. And then came Vi’s voice, raw.

"Arrested?!" she barked.

Maddie’s hand instinctively reached for Vi’s arm, a feeble attempt at restraint, but Caitlyn was quicker. "I can handle this, Maddie," voice clipped, cold, a thin veneer of control stretched over something far more fragile beneath.

Her eyes found yours then, softening just for a fraction of a second—an unspoken plea, a fleeting moment of something you couldn’t quite name—before the hardness returned, settling over her face like a mask she had worn for too long. "Check on my father," it was no request. It was an order.

But you ignored it. Without a word, you turned, following Maddie out of the room, though your steps faltered just beyond the threshold. The weight of curiosity, of concern, rooted you to the spot, and you lingered behind the door, pressing yourself against the frame, listening.

"Vi—" Caitlyn started, her voice tight with restrained emotion.

"She saved your life!" Vi cut her off, anger crackling through the ai.

You swallowed hard, finding yourself nodding in silent agreement, feeling the weight of Vi's words settle deep in your chest.

"If you would just calm down for one—" Caitlyn tried again, but Vi's frustration boiled over.

"Even knowing you’d never have done the same for her!"

Caitlyn’s breath hitched, and when she spoke, her voice came sharper, colder. "We’ll never know, will we?" she almost scoffed, but there was something brittle in it, something barely holding together. "You didn’t let me in on that part of your plan."

Vi's anger burned hotter now, a palpable force that filled the space between them. "Clearly the right call, since you still can’t trust her enough not to shove her in a box."

The bitterness in Vi's voice was something you had never heard before, and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Only now, standing here in the dark, did it dawn on you—how much Caitlyn had failed her, failed all of you.

"You believe I’m so daft I can’t recognize a contingency?" Caitlyn snapped, her composure slipping, voice edged with something sharp and defensive. "She wasn’t there for my benefit. She was there because you didn’t trust me to follow through."

"Can you blame me?" Vi fired back, her tone resentment. "How long were you sided up with that shitty, self-serving war pig? She oinked poison in your ear, and you just ate it—"

The sudden, jarring crash of something falling made you instinctively step back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I know!" Caitlyn’s voice cracked through the tension, and for the first time, you could hear it—the exhaustion, the doubt, the guilt she could never quite shake.

A pause followed, heavy and aching, before she spoke again, quieter this time. "The only thing Jinx cared about was getting you to safety. Then she just... surrendered. I didn’t even have time to think before they hauled her off." Her voice too thin. "She’s been held in the bunker while I—decide what to do."

You could swear you heard the tremor in her breath, the barest hint of tears unshed, and it made something inside you ache in a way you didn’t expect. "I was waiting for you to recover."

Vi’s response was softer now, almost pleading. "Cait... she’s changed."

But Caitlyn's reply was colder than the wind rattling the windows outside, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "We can’t erase our mistakes. None of us."

That was enough. You couldn’t listen anymore.

You barely registered the sound of Vi’s footsteps approaching, your pulse quickening with a reckless kind of desperation.

"Give her some air!" you commanded with desperation, but it barely carried over the chaos around you. Vi sat frozen beside you, her breath shallow, her trembling hands useless in the face of the moment. The weight of the young enforcer's head rested in your lap—her skin was marred with dust and blood, the stark lines of her uniform crumpled and torn. You held her close, your fingers digging into the fabric as if it could anchor her to life. The mask—you needed to get it off, but Vi remained motionless, trapped in shock, her wide eyes staring at the dying girl with a silent horror that clawed at your chest.

The enforcer's hair, a striking shade of blue, was what shattered you most. The color was unmistakable—a signature of those who followed Jinx. A bitter knot formed in your throat. You couldn't afford to disappoint them, not like this. But the girl’s grip on Vi's hand only tightened, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts—each one more desperate than the last.

"Down!" Loris’s voice rang.

The world convulsed. The ground beneath you trembled violently, sending shards of glass and debris cascading around you. Vi's arms pulled you down instinctively, shielding you against the blast, but as you looked back down—she was gone. Lifeless. The weight in your lap turned cold, and you felt the sickening absence settle in. With trembling hands, you released her, your fingers lingering for just a moment on the empty skin before grasping Vi's shoulder. You could feel her pulse hammering beneath your grip, a rhythm of fear and fury.

Before you could say a word, someone yanked Vi away, dragging her back to duty, back to the war that refused to wait for grief. You swallowed thickly, forcing down the ache in your chest as you braced yourself to stand. There was no time. Not now.

Then—impact.

A crushing blow from behind sent a black explosion across your vision, the iron taste of blood blooming in your mouth as the ground came rushing up to meet you. The world spun in dizzying, fractured glimpses—the glint of steel, the smear of smoke, and Vi’s face—etched in helpless terror—as your consciousness slipped into the dark.

A soft smile played on your lips as Vi's quiet humming filled the room, a low, almost absent-minded melody that wrapped you in her warmth. You sat on the worn-out couch—the one you had long since claimed as your own, sinking into its familiar embrace. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering gold across the room, painting shadows that danced along the weathered walls. Vi stood with her back to you, one knee drawn up, the other leg stretched out lazily. A glass rested in her hand, tilting slightly as she lost herself in the tune, her fingers tapping absent patterns.

The soft click of heels against the wooden floor pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to find Caitlyn approaching, composed, yet there was something softer in her tonight.

A quiet smile graced her lips, mirroring your own, though your gaze couldn’t help but linger on the stark violet of her eyepatch. It twisted something in your chest, a sharp pang of memories that still tasted bitter.

She brushed your shoulder as she passed, a silent reassurance, before tilting her head toward the fire in a wordless invitation.

Without a word, you followed.

Caitlyn sank into the space beside Vi, leaning in close.

"Is that singing?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement as she nudged Vi's side with her elbow, the gesture playful yet gentle.

Vi exhaled a quiet chuckle but didn't turn, her eyes locked on the fire's glow. You slid into the seat on her other side, and without hesitation, Vi reached for you, pulling your hand from where it rested idly on your arm and guiding you closer.

She stared into the flames, eyes reflecting the fire’s flickering warmth. "It's just a tune my mother used to hum," she murmured, almost to herself.

Caitlyn sighed softly and rested her cheek against Vi's shoulder, her fingers searching for yours behind Vi’s back. You intertwined them without hesitation, a silent thread of connection weaving between the three of you.

Your free hand found Vi's face, cupping her cheek, your thumb tracing the softer curves that had filled out over time. She leaned into your touch instinctively, a lazy, lopsided smile creeping across her lips. Those familiar, tired eyes—still so full of something tender and unyielding—met yours, and for a moment, the weight of everything else faded into the background.

You had them, and they had you.

Finally.

[lichpassing]

Let's talk about spring hounds!

Spring hounds are the analog for dogs on Aurum, occupying a similar niche to wolves. They became domesticated a lot later than ours did, having become genetically distinct from their ancestors about 20,000 years ago. Because of this, along with other factors, they aren’t as physically diverse as our dogs are, but they fill many different niches and do have distinct breeds.

Remains of their ancestor species were found in singer burial grounds as far back as around 48,000 years ago! That’s around 20,000 years before Aurum’s last mass extinction event! The working theory for why it took them so long to become their own species is that bands of C singers would kidnap pups and raise them as their own on occasion. Since that was uncommon at the time, domestication just didn’t have the chance to come about until later.

Later on, because of an asteroid impact, populations of most species dropped drastically or completely disappeared. Spring hounds ancestors had a hard time coping with the post-impact world, and taking more scraps from the species who can hunt large game seemed very alluring. Over the next few thousand years, as the two singer species started to get more and more intertwined, spring hounds changed a lot. Close proximity to C singers made them much more sociable, trainable, and visually appealing (yay neoteny).

The reason why working with this species specifically was so appealing to Cs was the difference in their hunting methods. Cs are ambush predators, they can reach extremely high speeds, but not for very long. Spring hounds are endurance predators, they can pursue prey for much longer. When whatever is being hunted tries to escape, spring hounds are there to cut them off or herd them back to the hunting party. It's a system that benefits both, and that forged a deep bond between the two species.

Spring hounds still exist in the modern day, they're a very common working animal and even more common companions. It's common practice for Cs who give birth to only one child to get their child a spring hound pup to play and socialize with.

E singers also keep them as pets, but their relationship with them is similar to our relationship with cats. Spring Hounds are slightly intimidated by Es size, and Es have a harder time forming bonds with them because of this. However, they are still pretty popular pets, and the two can form close bonds with each other like Cs can. Es just need to approach them with more patience and understanding.

Biology

With strong legs, stocky bodies, and mouths full of sharp teeth, spring hounds make formidable predators. Their body plan is similar to that of a kangaroo because of their shared need for endurance. They can hop at a stable speed for miles, pursuing prey until the exhaustion overcomes them.

Their tail has the same 3 segments most members of their class do, and it's used as a leg when they aren’t moving. The only exception to this is the awkward shuffle they do to move very short distances.

Their feet have one large claw to hook onto prey while they hold them down. Since they hunt in packs, they use their collective weight to hold down whatever they catch.

Large ears give them great hearing, allowing them to be alerted to things moving a considerable distance away from them. The long, thin feathers on their head are connected to recessive ears, which evolved to be used for communication and courtship.

Spring pups are much fluffier, lacking the tusks and open ears of an adult hound. Their young are more altricial than Cs, and are unable to walk or hear for a few weeks after they are born. The two parents of the pups will take turns watching over the litter while the other one hunts. They can start eating meat after a couple of days but cannot crack through shells and bones until they're older.

On average an adult spring hound is about 2-3 feet tall, but some breeds get closer to 1 or 4 feet.

Their mouths are a bit overcomplicated, again like most animals in their class. One thing that sets them and the species closely related to them apart is the fact they are both carnivorous and have external tusks. The external tusks are not really for hunting, but for manipulating and holding onto carrion, and for building nests. Unlike their internal tusks, the external ones can move slightly up and down. They'll hold objects between their external tusks and tongue, and while they don't have the strongest grip, it makes up for their lack of forelegs or arms. The internal ones are used for hunting, so they’re are more firmly set in the jaw and are much sharper. Their beak is the real star of the show, however, it's the strongest part of their mouth and can bite through a lot of the harder parts of the animals they eat. In households, they have a bad habit of biting chair legs in half that are too thin if they don't get trained to use a designated chew toy. The “tongue” inside is a radula, and it's covered in thousands of teeth.

Their eye color ranges from yellow to red, but their sclera is usually the same shade of very dark blue. Similarly to c singers, their eyes are not round, and are instead eye stalks similar to a mantis shrimps underneath skin, fat, and muscle. Their eyes rotation is limited, and they often will rotate their heads or bodies to get a good look at something. The “pull apart” style pupil is common amongst more nocturnal or crepuscular predators, with spring hounds falling into the latter category.

Coat genetics

There are 12 categories of spring hound base coat colors, with 4 major color categories. Brown and tan are the most common, with black being a bit more uncommon and red being the rarest. The dilute gene is self explanatory, it lightens the color and patterning of the coat to varying degrees, nothing too flashy. The blush dilute is somewhat similar, but it impacts the pheomelanin less than the eumelanin, therefore it leaves a bit more of a rosy tone. The gene for dilute and blush dilute are both recessive, but it might show up again if the same type of dilute gene exists in both parents.

There are some other colors that are the result of genetic mutations. All white coats don't exist in spring hounds standard coat colors, but leucistic spring hounds are not uncommon, so it was assumed they were part of the standard array. Albinism and melanism are both rather rare, but melanism doesn't come with health issues like albinism does, outside of being more vulnerable to heat stroke in some regions. Spring hounds with albinism tend to be visually impaired or blind, and it also weakens their tusks enough to require a diet with less hard bones and shells.

The most common coat pattern is the colorpoint pattern. On earth, colorpoint cats have pigment in the warmest parts of their bodies. Spring hounds get pigment on the parts of their body that get the most sun exposure. This coat pattern comes about with age, and the amount of sun exposure they get in their early years has an impact on how dark their fur gets, along with genetics. Pigment shows up on the feet and under the tail because body heat does have some influence over where pigment shows up. This patterning frequently shows up along with other coat patterns, and most spring hounds will at least have a faint version of it under their stripes or splotches.

The other common coat pattern for spring hounds is stripes, but some patterns are less common than others.

The most common stripe pattern, feral populations would often revert back to this pattern after a few generations.

The same as above but with more intense striping.

The equivalent of a blotched tabby, it’s less common but not rare.

The same as above but with more intense striping, this is a very popular stripe pattern.

A much more rare version of the common striped pattern, with less striping and larger light patches.

A similarly uncommon version of the “blotched” stripe pattern with larger light patches.

The primary multicolored gene has a lot of color variety within it, with the gene causing specific pigments in the fur to either be greatly reduced or absent entirely. This exists in all fur coat genetics, but shows up a bit differently in all of them. Pigment loss tends to be concentrated on the underside of the body. Above are some examples of how this gene can change a spring hounds coat.

A lack of eumelanin, causing the affected fur to have a red to orange hue.

A complete lack of melanin, causing the effected fur to have a white hue.

A partial lack of melanin, causing the affected area to be a diluted tone, it can have a “blush” tone if the spring hound carries the gene for it.

An example of how the first version of the multicolor gene would look on a brown fur tone, the genes do not add pigment, so they change in accordance to the melanin ratios in each fur tone.

There can also be white spotting that goes along with this gene, here are a few examples of what that looks like on different variations of the multicolor gene.

Finally, here are some examples of different coat lengths. While these exist on a wide spectrum, they usually fall between 1 and 2. 3 is only really seen in breeds from polar regions and occasionally in mutts with the genetics for it. Short fur is seen as the most aesthetically pleasing, as it is easier to maintain and keep neat.

There are many, many combinations of all of these genes, giving spring hounds a wide variety of coats.

As for other physical features, the genetics are less clearly understood for a few reasons. Namely the fact they have not put much effort into recording the lineages of breeds.

While there are no agreed upon breed standards, spring hounds have still changed in accordance to their jobs. Differences in appearance are either practical or purely incidental, breeding for specific traits for aesthetic reasons is more common in domestic fungi or plants. The image above is just a few examples of the variety of appearances.

Fun facts

They clack their beaks when they're content, it sounds a bit like this, but muffled.

A common play behavior is to nudge their companion with their tusks, which hurts BAD if they’re being rough or are running up to you before doing it. This is discouraged at a young age as to not cause any actual damage when they’re larger and stronger.

They’re mesocarnivores, with about 60% of their diet being meat.

Their favorite places to be pet are usually behind their ears, their cheeks, and the top of their back and tail.