#imagine loving someone and not wanting them to turn to crystal and leave you

[s-insomnia]

i don't CARE about ffxiii's generally bad and linear gameplay. the fabula nova crystallis mythos will forever have me in a chokehold.

[championari]

So I’m constantly thinking about Charles and how he could eventually meet Edwin with his feelings.

Here’s something I realized: Charles, despite constantly talking about things he miss, things he wants, he actually has a complicated relationship with desire as a concept.

How I would put it is by taking Supernatural as an example. There’s an episode in Season 5 where the boys meet Famine, a horseman of the apocalypse. However, Dean is not at all affected by him. It’s because due to being the older brother, and a Hunter, Dean was never allowed to consider acting on or even having desire for anything.

You can see where I’m going with this. Charles, like Dean, doesn’t actually believe he should want anything, due to “not being good enough”.

This is something actually touched on subtly in the show through the acting. When Niko says, “I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.” Edwin directly looks at The Cat King’s bracelet, while Charles stares off into space. When Tragic Mick describes Angie’s light as enforcing a sense of yearning, Edwin looks at Charles, while again, Charles looks off blankly (can’t access screenshots right now). Edwin knows what he wants but is scared of it, while Charles doesn’t know what he wants because he can’t allow himself to consider it. This gives an entirely new meaning to Charles’ hatred of the Cat King. A supernatural entity who describes his kingdom as being about “want and pleasure”. Thomas is the encapsulation of everything Charles was never allowed to have. Charles chases after things that he knows he can’t have, romancing a living girl despite knowing she will eventually leave. Charles can’t consider returning Edwin’s feelings because that would mean he’s been running away from what’s been in front of him the whole time. That what he wanted was always there, at his lowest point, when he thought he deserved it least.

Returning Edwin’s feelings means he was already enough. And Charles can’t imagine that yet.

While I would obviously adore an interaction between Charles and Desire of The Endless, ultimately I don’t think it would do anything. Like Dean, Charles might be completely unaffected by them because he’s spent most of his existence building walls around his desires. Edwin was completely blindsided by Thomas because he never even considered having to think about Desire due to having no attraction to women and that being the dominant narrative of his time. Charles pursues Crystal because he still wants to feel like he has a chance at “normal life” (which as I said is self-punishment by throwing himself at something he knows he can’t have). To accept that he’s in love with Edwin would mean no longer pursuing a living person. Edwin would be it for him, which he kind of already gets but it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Just like his death

There's also this exchange that drives me nuts:

"You gave up tranquil eternity…for your friend?" "Does that sound like someone who belongs in Hell?"

THIS. MAKES. ME. INSANE. Because Charles, like he always does when confronted with his own wants, completely avoids it. He doesn't respond to The Night Nurse's obvious confusion as to why he ran from Death, and instead turns the conversation back to Edwin. He makes it all about what Edwin deserves, not what Charles saw in Edwin that led him to make that choice. You could say this is practical as time is of the essence, but I think that's the point. Charles throws away the chance to explain his viewpoint on their first meeting, the consequences of his choice to run from Death with a boy he just met and knew for a few hours, and instead remains single-minded on Edwin's safety. Like when Edwin reasonably questioned, "Why are you getting angry?" when he began freaking out over Thomas getting close to Edwin, he says nothing.

There's just so much happening in that head that I can't stop thinking about.

[cherie-doll]

COD men with a witchy girlfriend that also dresses like Stevie Nicks? Like I have random tarot decks or crystals that appear. I tend to attract crows, cats, and snakes mostly. Herbs, jars, bones, etc all around the house.

i love her style sm <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You're Their Witchy Girlfriend

☽〇☾ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He knew how much you loved wearing flowy, comfortable clothes, it was just so convenient and nice to wear in any weather! You couldn't go out without your shawl, in cool weather it was useful to cover yourself with, and it was useful when the glaring sun was out in summer to provide some shade

When interacting with an animal, he found it endearing when you would greet it as if it were another person, many times they followed you too, and he would sigh when he'd find a new animal sitting on the window sill watching him

For some reason, he thought you were trying not to be a burden to him when you only went to thrift stores to buy your clothes, until you explained to him it was easier to find vintage stuff there, not only for your clothes but also for decorating your home

Picking out gifts for you is easy, you love anything given with love because you care more about the intentions/symbolism rather than the price of the item, but he also takes his time in choosing what to give you

Ghost

You like making some of your own clothing, simple stuff like adding some extra flair to your blouses or skirts, you even repair them too, and you've taught Simon to sew as well, it's comical to see a large man like him sitting down on a nice, sunny afternoon in the living room with the window open letting the breeze in and holding a needle so small between his big fingers

And you fondly gaze at him as you watch him sew, turns out he can patch up your clothes better than you do!

You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, so you always ask for his protection every day he goes out, or every time he has to go on a mission because he's the best thing that's happened to you and you can't imagine losing the one person who understands you best

You're sort of into amulets and other things that can grant protection to a person, Simon used to not believe in them but after seeing how good life can feel when you're with a person who shows you the beauty in life, he doesn't mind standing still as you stitch a protection sigil into his jacket

Soap

He thought he was hitting on a whimsigoth chick when he saw you out in the street walking with your bell sleeved top and patterned maxi skirt, he asked for your number and you surprisingly gave him yours, soon he found himself sitting next to you at a park on a date

You always carried a tote bag where ever you went, it always made a lot of noise when you walked, sounded like rocks in there or something, and when you would in reach into your bag when he was trying to pay for something he'd stop you and assure you he'd never let you pay, except you weren't planning on paying

You just have a bag of crystals in there and your tarot cards you like bringing along, never know when someone is going to need a reading, right?

He remembers the first time he came over to your place and it matched with your vibe, dried flowers/plants tied and hanging to the wall, leather-bound books on wooden bookshelves with glass bottles and even more, larger crystals

He noticed you took a liking to anything relating to the moon or sun, so he actually bought you a matching couples moon and sun bracelet, he let you pick which one you wanted

Gaz

He's always interested in what you're into, asks questions and isn't afraid in partaking in any small "rituals" you do, mostly habits really that you have, like petting every black cat you see or leaving something shiny for crows to take

There was a time crows started following him because of the things he'd leave out for them that he got scared and ran all the way home and hid until you came back, you explained that they likely just recognized him as the person who gave them food and other things

One of your favorite things to do is trying to foretell the future, you look for signs in every day life, or even just trusting your intuition when you get a certain feeling, you and Kyle will sit on the steps of your porch and observe the sky, there's a murder of crows that like to perch on a tree in the backyard

There's always a different number of them, not always the same amount, but you've heard that counting crows is a way of foretelling the future, today you counted three just as Kyle was feeling for that small box containing a ring in his pocket :)

Roach

I like to think he also loves to collect animals :), he enjoys coming along with you and foraging deep into the woods near riverbanks helping you look for skeletons and any other bones, secretly it's because he likes finding small animals like lizards or cicadas

He loves the idea that when you place an animal skull on a pile of items their spirit will protect that specific stack, he imagines that each animal bone/skull around the house has their items that they like to protect and hang near

You two love visiting the local park on weekends and taking romantic walks together, during these talks some animals might follow you

He remembers when he took you on a date out and every cat you passed would meow and come up to you, he just assumed you were really good with cats, until it started happening with crows and even snakes

Now your little companions make you both smile fondly seeing them come to greet you, you even let a cat follow you back home and couldn't bear to leave the poor thing outside in the cold :(, of course you'd bring it in! They now have their own little cushion to sleep on and get spoiled <3

Alejandro

It's literally in his blood to be into the macabre, most of his traditions revolve around that anyways, so it was no surprise that he gets along with you perfectly

He loves the herbs you have around the house because it reminds him of the elderly ladies that he used to see when he was a kid, he remembered most people avoided them, but others frequently visited them, he always viewed them as powerful and full of wisdom and knowledge

He'll listen to whatever subject interests you the most, you often talk to yourself and if he so happens to walk into a room while you're dusting the shelves or placing a new crystal and you're having a conversation with yourself, he'll just walk by like it's nothing, he knows you tend to do that

You like to grown your own herbs and plants so you won't always have to go out and buy more because now you'll never run out, it used to be Alejandro who was sent on these errands lol

Some people still talk bad about you sometimes, saying you make them feel uncomfortable, but little do they know, you leave a lemon out whenever they come by to "absorb their negative energy" and when they leave.. the lemon is brown.. how strange, something about them must be off

Alejandro was never afraid nor put off by you, you're the most alluring person he's ever seen and from the very moment he met you he had been attracted

Rudy

You've always had an air of elegance and mystery around you, people were afraid to wrong you but couldn't figure out what was so unsettling about you, contrary to that you were quite friendly to those who built up the confidence to get to know you

Rodolfo was the one to discover this and he's the one who frequently experiences your sweet side since he's your boyfriend, you'd actually be pretty lost without him! You tend to misplace your cards, crystals and other things and he's the one who patiently reminds you where to look

He helps you especially when you're in the kitchen, you like to make your kitchen space a nice and cozy area where you can be yourself, mostly focusing on herbs, you love tea and can't go a day without it! Rodolfo even learned how to make your favorite and every morning he gets up before you do to prepare it, so by the time you wake up there's a warm cup of tea by your bedside <3

You and him love cooking together, but you often misplace the notebook with all your recipes and other thoughts you write in them, sometimes he'll find the notebook but if he doesn't you have to turn to the recipes you've written in your notes app on your phone

Not all witchy people can afford or manage to keep glass bottles in their homes if they're clumsy, so you've turned to recycling plastic bottles and buying durable tupperware to store dried herbs or potions, Rodolfo helps you write what they're for in sharpie and organize them on shelves

Phillip Graves

The first time he noticed you, you were doing a tarot reading for another Shadow, he himself got curious and asked for one, you looked him straight in the eye and said "these cards mean we should go out on a date" (they did not mean that at all)

He was eager to learn more about you, he regarded your behavior not as strange but as... whimsical and it was honestly refreshing for him, you smiled at children and pets/animals, you believed those little pure souls needed all the positivity they could get before the negativity of this world got to them

You couldn't have asked for a more supportive boyfriend than Phillip, he remembers all your little quirks and habits and tries to imitate him best he can, heck he even incorporates some of them into his daily life!

Whenever he takes you on vacation he KNOWS he must stop at a shop that sells crystals or incense knowing how much you love that, you go insane in there and he has no limits knowing how happy it makes you, just stands, waiting next to the cashier smiling fondly as he sighs, ready to pull out his card whenever you're done picking out what you want

Makarov

You'd think he couldn't care less but you're WRONG, he loves bothering you all the time knowing you've got good intuition and thinks you know what everything means, assumes you can interpret his dreams, "I had a dream what does it mean?" "I'm not Joseph the fu-"

As time has gone by, he's gotten to know you better, instead of bouquets of fresh flowers, he started gifting you dried flowers which you love a lot more because you can keep them for wayyy longer, you keep it on display around your home and it brings you lots of happiness when you look at them

He also buys you a vase for every time he gifts you a bouquet, preferably ones that match your aesthetic, even though you're thankful for anything that he gets you, it's even sweeter when he pays attention to these things because it shows he truly cares

When building your new house, he came to you asking how you wanted the interior to look like, told you not to hold back and you did not hold back at all, he fully trusted the decisions you were making and the final product had a dark cottagecore vibe to it during the night but spring-like fairy vibe during the day

You can fully incorporate your desired vibes and express yourself as you wish because he's there to make it possible <3

Keegan

He used to always be the kind of guy to never really bother or pay much attention to certain things, but you were all about the small details, not obsessing but noticing, he wanted to be like that, he saw how much joy it brought you in your interactions with nature and small, inanimate things

You would talk to anything, not just yourself because it were as if you were conversing with someone, he asked you once why you did it and you replied that it's a habit that you developed as a child, which is common, but never "grew" out of it, you were sure someone listened even if you thought you were alone

He walks into your room to stare at the stacks of cards, crystals, potion bottles, an alarming amount of bones you found when foraging in the woods, etc..

Speaking of bones, you always take a bag when going on hikes, you'll be walking with Keegan hand in hand and suddenly he doesn't feel you beside him anymore, you've veered off the path to dig up a bone you saw sticking out of the dirt, and if you're lucky to find a whole deer decomposing you get overexcited and take the big container you made Keegan load up in his truck

Of course, you ask the deer or animal for permission to harvest their bones before taking them, Keegan can only stand there and watch, slightly concerned for you, but you'll make him help you clean the bones when you get home

König

He's never delved much into the same things you have but he tries his best to comply and make you happy, you love crafting, almost everything in your home is handmade by you, you believe the effort you put into those things benefit you and your home, providing positive energy

There's certain herbs you can never run out of: rosemary, sage, lavender, etc.. you try to grow your own but let's say you don't have much luck with plants, you've tried everything and you can't figure out what you're doing wrong, you decide to tell König and to your surprise he says to let him handle it

Those herbs are growing nicely and quite healthy when you decide to test him, who knew he could be so good with them, you let him take care of the rest of your plants while you focus on the more "dirty" work which is the process of cleaning your bones, you have to bury them to let the bugs eat the flesh and then dig the bones back up later to check up on them until you can clean them yourself

You also love buying and hanging tapestries up, preferably those with mushrooms on them, but you have a hard time because unlike someone you aren't super tall and pulling up a chair with a wobbly leg isn't the safest option... König rushes over just in time to help you down and instead you sit back and tell him where to put the tapestry up

And when he's done? You got four more you want to hang up in other rooms, but he's willing to do anything for you

Horangi

God, he just loves loves LOVES your style, on some days it can range from long and flowy maxi dresses that are comfortable and perfect for simple chores around the house or it can be bell bottoms with a shirt tied in the front

Despite how often he scolds you for this but you like walking barefoot around the house, in your backyard too when the weather is warm and you want some sun or even if it's raining and you want to enjoy the rain, he's afraid you'll catch a cold or step on something that'll cut your skin

When on bookstore dates, you're always drawn to the book section that features books about spells, or related to witchcraft, anything that can be useful information for your home

Often, when a tough decision comes your way you like playing with a pendulum, you often stay up late at night, letting your thoughts just run rampant within your mind as that pendulum swings and you sit in a pensive state, sometimes it can even help you if you're feeling anxious because just watching it swing back and forth helps to get your mind away from negative thoughts

Nikto

He never outright asked nor assumed if you were a witch, I mean, you resembled one.. but if asked he could never place a finger on it, he didn't care either

Never really paid much mind to what you were up to most of the time, barely even questioned you when you'd stay up late at night or get overly excited when it was the full moon, he noticed you always marked the lunar cycle on your calendar, you kept up with it regularly, also didn't say much about that either

You love burning candles and other herbs to keep your home clean, he likes coming home to the smell as he's grown accustomed to it, feels it as welcoming even and always thinks of you if he detects it elsewhere

You love being out in nature like him, you two love veering off into the woods and making your own paths to explore, you do it to connect with nature as you deeply resonate with it, he observes you and it's almost like seeing you be in your true element, always brings a flashlight or a lantern knowing that not even the sun going down will keep you from playing in the woods at night

You say that as long as you're respecting the wildlife, you have nothing to fear

[greyskyflowers]

I like the idea that, I've seen mentioned a few times and love it, the boys turn into those little orb things when they're like completely, if they were human they would have passed out, exhausted.

I imagine a soft glow, warm to hold, about the size of an orange, a little weight to it and it doesn't float but drops to the floor and rolls like a ball ~

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

It really isn't surprising after everything with hell, Esther, and Niko, that Edwin shifts.

He looks exhausted, and Charles still sees him terrifed and bloody in Hell when he closes his eyes, swaying a little bit where he stands listening to Crystal, and Charles knows what's going to happen before it happens.

The softly glowing orb doesn't even have a chance to drop before Charles snatches it, carefully tucking it away in his coat. It's a warm, little weight against his side.

He loves Crystal, Edwin does too even though he huffs about it, but she doesn't need to see Edwin like this. No one needs to see Edwin like this. The thought of it feels like calling attention to an open wound, advertising a vulnerable spot for someone to exploit or further hurt.

Thankfully, they're all finally free to go home. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Crystal but there's a growing itch to get back home and she shoves him towards the mirror and tells him she's meet up with them later.

Neither Charles or Edwin like being out when one of them is like this.

The first few time it happened, Charles hadn't really thought about it too much. And it happened a lot those first years after his death. He often overdid it, everything going fuzzy before going dark, and then he'd wake up, usually pressed against Edwin's side on the little couch. He always woke up on or next to Edwin and it'd been startling the first few times but he always wakes up comfortable now, no rush to get up.

The first time Edwin shifted in front of Charles, he panicked. Refused to let go of him until, after what seemed like days, Edwin shifted back. Still relaxed enough that he hadn't immediately shoved himself off Charle's lap and he hadn't fought the hug too hard either.

He's only see Edwin like that a few times but to be on the other side of it, he understands why Edwin always relaxes when Charles shifts back. It's a powerful and terrifying feeling, to hold something so small and vulnerable and know it's the most important person in the world to you.

As he got to know Edwin more, Charles had the horrible realization that Edwin had been in Hell for over 70 years and surely he must have been exhausted plenty of times when down there. What happened to him when he shifted?

Charles didn't know what Hell looked like or what really happened down there but he pictured the little orb rolling around on the floor, being kicked, or someone finding other ways to hurt it. He had finally asked, so worked up he hadn't even thought about if Edwin would want to talk about, because he needed to know.

He'd gotten a gentle look from Edwin and an answer.

While he was absolutely exhausted in hell, he never shifted. Hell takes a lot of things away and the relief of sleep or unconsciousness is one of them.

So, honestly, Edwin had lasted longer than Charles thought he would. He half expected that he'd have to lunge for the orb as soon as they fell back through the door from Hell.

Thinking too much about Hell and Esther makes him a nasty mix of furious and terrified, so he forces himself to focus on the present.

He holds Edwin closer his chest as he sinks onto the couch. He's emotionally exhausted and in the silence of everything, finally has a moment to think about the love confession on the stairs of hell.

He doesn't know what to do with that liar but he was right when he told Edwin they had forever to figure it out.

He lays out on the couch, feet hanging off the far end and his head on the armrest, the orb on his chest and his hands almost petting at it. Holding it like this means that when Edwin shifts back he'll be sprawled over Charles, something that will probably have him flustered and immediately trying to get up and off.

Charles hopes he's sleepy and comfortable when he changes back though, that he just settles there without over thinking it.

Just the two of them existing together in the same space.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 9

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication, miscarriage scare

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

Aо3

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

Epilogue

She had fallen asleep in his arms while they had been quietly talking.

Everything that he had missed, all the extra details that she hadn’t sent via message.

All the while, their precious miracle rolled up against his hand as if welcoming him home.

Caleb had taken full advantage of his authority to make sure the hospital conducted the rest of his care from her room instead of his.

So he was currently hooked back up to a saline bag and a vitamin drip.

Stuck on a special diet to help him recover from malnourishment.

Being stuck here was nothing with her in his arms.

Now that he was more lucid and pumped on proper food and sleep. His brain was working overtime.

Ever could not find out about their baby.

A baby made from experiment 001 and 002? Prime material for an experiment. And if they got ahold of their precious little bean from inside the womb?

He shuddered to think about it, messing with the baby’s development while it was still forming. It made him sick to his stomach.

No, he thought he would have more time to figure this out but time was up.

A 20 week countdown loomed over Caleb’s head.

He would fully discuss this with her when they got home but preliminary plans whirred in his brain.

First he would have to find a way to get rid of the professor and Ever’s leader.

There were many other researchers but if he took the main figureheads out, there would be less of a threat.

Then, he would have to find Ever’s old research and records on him specifically.

Caleb did not want to become mostly a machine like Viper.

He could feel something growing from his arm and planting itself further into his body, taking him over bit by bit. It scared him to think that he could become a machine and not even recognize her one day.

After acquiring the research, he’d have to find someone to take out his chip in his brain and then try and stop the growth from his arm.

It was reminiscent of the crystal disease that Ever had been experimenting with except this originated from man and not wanderers.

Tightening his arms around the love of his life, his reason for existing, he drifted off to sleep awaiting tomorrow.

**

Caleb’s aircraft was still at the Fleet’s HQ and he didn’t want to bring her anywhere near there right now.

So they took the shuttle home.

The hospital had wanted to keep him longer but she was released and he wasn’t going to let her leave without him.

Neither was she for that matter, her hand hadn’t left him since they had been reunited.

Coming home was sobering, as they followed a small trail of blood into the house.

“I didn’t realize that I was leaving a trail behind.”

“I’m not surprised.” Caleb grabbed the mop from the closet, “Go sit down, I’ll clean this up real quick.”

She was still holding onto his arm, following him this whole time. Her small hand tightened on his bicep

“I’m afraid that if I let you go, that you’ll disappear, that you’ll be just a figment of my imagination.”

Caleb thinks for a minute before responding

“Here, let me make it real for you. Can hallucinations do this?”

Leaning down, he bites down on her neck gently and worries it between his lips. Leaving a mark on her skin to ground her.

Gasping at the sensation, she turns her head and captures his neck in the same manner.

Giving them matching marks.

“Go sit down baby, I’ll be back. Promise.”

“And then we’ll talk.” She states this as a fact, he gulps a bit but he was ready.

“Yes, we’ll talk.”

As she sits down on the couch, he mops away the evidence of a traumatic night. His anxiety growing all the more as time passes, not wanting to expose everything but knowing he has to.

Putting the mop back into the closet, he makes his way over to the couch; sitting on the opposite end of the curve so he can be by her but not crowd her space.

Caleb sits there a moment, gathering his thoughts and thinking in how to best to start things.

She waits there patiently, looking at him eager for the answers he’s kept from her for so long.

Sighing, he begins

“Before you lost your memories, you and I were always together. But we were experiments kept in a lab by grandma, Josephine back then.

You were 001 and I was 002.”

Stopping, he can’t bring himself to look into her eyes, looking at her mouth instead.

“You had an aether core in your heart, they were experimenting with the power increase that resulted everytime you died and they brought you back to life.”

This was so hard to talk about

“They molded me to be your antithesis, the weapon able to counter you and bring you down. We were two halves of a whole. I was forced to watch you die over and over again, never knowing if this was the last time that I’d see you alive again.”

Rubbing his eyes furiously, his chest hurt from all the pressure

“Everytime you died, you came back all muddled. Your memories blending together or being all together lost. I had to introduce myself to you so many times…”

He paused,

“Hi, I’m Caleb, I’ll always be by your side.”

A long resounding echo of words he had to say over and over

“It was awful but we had each other, despite our circumstances…. Josephine got sick of what Ever was doing and planning to do with us. Ever’s ultimate goal was you, using you. She took us, the disaster happened and you lost all of your memories. And she became Grandma.”

It was silent for a minute before she asked

“Is that all?” Her voice neutral, not betraying anything.

“No, Ever found where grandma had taken us much later in our lives. That’s what the explosion was, a way to take out a deserter and to get us back under their thumb.”

Stopping to take deep breath, he thought about how hard it was to tell this all to her. Caleb had held this inside him for so many years, in a way it was liberating. But it was hard to ignore the instinct that this was putting her into danger.

“When they recovered me from the explosion, I woke up before you and they gave me a choice. Live and take your place, they’d leave you alone for now or die and they take control of you.”

His hands were shaking just reliving it. The terror of her being under their thumb again, potentially killing her a few times to make her power increase once more. It was worth everything to say yes, regardless of what happened to him.

“I said yes, after I recovered from my burns, they began to modify me. Starting with my arm, making me stronger but making me lose sensation.”

Clenching his fist, he continued

“I had no idea until later that this machinery would eventually take over my entire body, assimilating me into the perfect weapon, more machine than man.”

“That’s what led me to being interjected into the Fleet. The fleet is under Ever’s rule, their attack dogs. Where I got the chip in my head, it’s at 50% integrity now but if I’m not careful they can bring me under their brain washing if I show any outward resistance.”

Caleb looks at the swell of her belly, the catalyst of what is to come.

“I don’t want to scare you but if they find out that there’s a child between us, there’s a big chance they’ll take you to experiment on you and our baby.”

This gets a reaction out of her besides her straight posture, her hand coming to hold her belly protectively. He still can’t look her in the eye.

“That’s why I need to collect the records on the both of us, destroy the digital copies. Then take care of the professor and the head of Ever. Find someone who can use the notes they took when they made their upgrades to my body, to stop the growth and then take the chip out of my head.”

They sit in silence for a moment, everything he had to say out in the air to ponder.

“That’s the gist of everything that I hadn’t told you.”

She sat there silently while he fidgeted nervously with his fingers. After a few minutes she asked

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“To be honest, I thought that if I kept you out of this that it would be safer for you. That you could live your life happier without this looming over your shoulders, jumping at shadows.”

“If I had been aware of these things, it would’ve made my life a lot easier actually. Sure I would’ve been more wary, but that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t throw myself into situations not knowing the whole of what was happening behind the scenes. Not to mention, even with you keeping me in the dark, things keep happening anyway.”

Feeling properly chastised, thinking about it she was right.

“I realize that now. I’m sorry for not telling you. It’s hard to go against my instincts to protect you. Watching you die so many times when we were young kind of hardwired my brain.”

She finally moved closer to him and reached out to hold his hand.

“Then we’ll rewrite your brain together. I don’t mind us wanting to possess each other, sometimes I want to keep you in my skin and know everything you’re doing too. But it has to be on equal terms, I need to know things and it’s gotta be mutually consensual. Okay?”

He could get behind that

“Right.” Caleb looks up into her eyes for the first time since he started sharing his darkest secrets.

Her face was brighter than he’d seen in a long time.

”Honestly I thought you’d be a bit more freaked out from learning about our origins.”

“Well, sure I’m freaking out inside but we can do this together, protect our baby together. Like you said, we’re two halves of a whole and will always be together. Now, where are these records of the experiments they did on us?”

“The disaster that led to us having to abandon the facilities, it happened in what’s now known as the N109 zone. Which I know you have experience with.”

Grinning sheepishly, she nods

“Yes, I guess it’s my turn to share some secrets. I know Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, they’re set up in the N109 zone. He would probably help us if I asked him to. Sylus might even be able to help us with your arm and chip issue. He’s good with machines and programming, plus he has more contacts then we do. Actually, Zayne would be a good choice too, for the medical sides of things!”

Caleb grimaced at the thought of Zayne helping, Sylus too. He was well aware of Sylus and his dealings. They usually kept a mutual eye on each other but had never met personally.

But if they could help him which in turn protected her and their baby. He’d swallow his pride, he’d do anything for his two most precious people.

“Well, I guess you should reach out to him, see if he’ll help. Zayne too I guess.” He gritted this out

“I will! I’ll have to head back to Linkon in two days anyway for my anatomy scan.”

“Oh right! I’d like to go with you. The Fleet has rescinded my MIA status and my lawyer took care of transferring my assets back to me. I’m completely free now that I’ve been placed on medical leave for a few weeks so I can be wherever you need me to be.”

She grasps his hand tighter, bring it to the swell of her belly, laying both of their hands in a protective gesture over their baby.

“Yes I’d like you to be there. I was worried that I’d have to deal with all of the legal stuff with your lawyer, I’d been avoiding that. Thank you, we can move forward with the plan after the scan then.”

Scooting closer, he lays his other arm around her shoulders and plops his head down on top of hers. They bask in each others company, the air clear between them for the first time since reuniting.

“Thank you for opening up to me. I know that was really hard for you but I appreciate it that you made the effort to tell me.”

“I held back for so long but now that I’ve said everything, I actually feel so much lighter.”

“The burden is light to carry when shared between two backs.”

“Haha, well I guess you’re right. I’ll have to get used to saying that considering you agreed to marry me. Whats that saying? Happy wife, happy life?”

Holding a finger up, she pokes his cheek firmly

“I agreed to marry you in the future, for now I’m just your girlfriend.”

“Sure sure, whatever you say dear.”

Things were looking up in their relationship, they were still a bit crazy with how much they wanted to possess the other. But they were finally communicating.

Attacks from the outside had yet to be dealt with though. Ever’s looming eye, the threat of losing their baby, Caleb’s slow transformation from man to machine. They would face the war together, hand in hand.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @violetpurplez @raiyuxa @nickibunny23 @sh3sa1dwhat @playboygeniusphilanthropist @flwerie @lynnlovesthestars @twilightsmissingfur

@kasuumi @i-messed-up-big-time @mcdepressed290 @mc-cos-charm @needsleep3000

[aspenmissing]

Hiiiii!! I hope your day is going well! I LOVE your writing so much, I'm constantly checking your page for any new posts all the time! 💜

I was wondering if I could make a request for some arcane characters (especially Silco) having a muscular girlfriend, like built like Rhea Ripley or Sevika type of muscular? So I myself am really into weight lifting, and sometimes I don't feel feminine enough to be with a man because of the muscle I've built up, and I was wondering if you could do something with that? I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense, 😅 this is my first time requesting anything from anyone. I completely understand if you don't want to do it for any reason!

ʀᴀᴡ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5038 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ/ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ/ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ), ʙᴏᴅʏ ꜱʜᴀᴍɪɴɢ/ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ᴄᴏɴꜱᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ (ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʏ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢʟʏ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ! ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ɴᴏᴛ, ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ <3, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴘʟᴇɴᴅɪᴅ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ɪ ᴛʜᴏʀᴏᴜɢʜʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇ�� ɪᴛ! (ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴜꜱᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ (ᴀɴᴅ ʀʜᴇᴀ ʀɪᴘʟᴇʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ) <3)

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ

JAYCE

The forge burned bright, casting flickering shadows across the workshop. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal reverberated through the air, a steady soundtrack to Y/N’s tireless work. Her muscles tensed, shifting beneath her skin as she tightened the last bolt into place, her strength making the task look effortless. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a smear of grease in its wake. The sharp scent of burning coal and molten metal mingled in the heavy air, but Y/N found comfort in it—it was the scent of creation, of power, of purpose.

She barely flinched when a familiar voice echoed from behind her, smooth and teasing.

"You know, you might be stronger than me, but I’ve still got a sharper mind," Jayce remarked, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the workbench, his expression smug.

Y/N scoffed, turning to face him with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her arms flexed slightly as she shifted her weight, the sheer power in her physique evident in the way her muscles moved beneath her skin. "That sounds like something a man who just lost an arm-wrestling match would say."

Jayce groaned, running a hand down his face. "I let you win."

"Sure you did. And I suppose I imagined that sulky look you had for an hour after?" she quipped, stepping closer. Their height was nearly matched, and as she closed the gap between them, the tension between them crackled like the electricity of a charged hex crystal. The scent of smoke, steel, and sweat clung to them both, and Jayce found himself more captivated than he cared to admit.

His eyes roamed over her, admiration clear even as he tried to mask it behind feigned exasperation. "You know, for someone built like a war goddess, you’re annoyingly smug."

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into something more intimate, her breath warm against his cheek. "And yet, you love it."

Jayce exhaled sharply, his confidence faltering for just a second before his hands instinctively found her waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her worn workshirt. "Unfortunately, yes."

Y/N chuckled, the sound deep and rich, as she reached up and traced a calloused thumb along his jawline. The contrast of her rough fingers against the smoothness of his skin sent a shiver down his spine. "You should work on your grip strength if you ever want to win next time."

Jayce let out a short laugh, tilting his head with an amused glint in his eyes. "Oh, I’m working on something better." His hands tightened around her waist, suddenly shifting his stance. In a swift motion, he flipped their positions, pinning her against the worktable with a satisfied smirk. "Maybe I should start testing my strength in other ways."

Y/N arched a brow, utterly unfazed by his display of dominance. If anything, the gleam in her eyes suggested she was entertained by it. "If you think you can handle it, be my guest."

Jayce’s smirk widened, his confidence returning in full force. His face inched closer, his lips barely brushing hers. "Oh, I’m more than willing to find out."

The forge fire roared beside them, but the heat between them burned hotter. The air was thick with challenge, want, and the silent understanding that whatever came next would be a battle neither of them wanted to lose.

Jayce’s fingers traced slow circles at her waist, his touch firm but teasing. "You know, for someone who claims to be stronger, you’re letting me hold you down pretty easily."

Y/N rolled her eyes, the glint of mischief flashing in them before she moved. With one sharp twist of her torso and a flex of her powerful arms, she reversed their positions in a blink. Jayce found himself the one pinned now, his back pressed against the sturdy worktable, Y/N towering over him with an amused smirk.

"What was that?" she mused, tilting her head mockingly. "Something about letting you hold me down?"

Jayce huffed a breathless laugh, the mix of surprise and admiration written all over his face. "I should’ve seen that coming."

"You really should’ve." Y/N’s fingers trailed up his chest, her nails grazing along the fabric of his vest. "But it’s cute that you thought you had me."

Jayce groaned dramatically. "You enjoy this way too much."

"Oh, absolutely." Her voice was honeyed, teasing, but there was something deeper beneath it—a challenge, an invitation.

Jayce’s hands tightened around her hips, his body thrumming with the same competitive energy that had always defined their relationship. "Then I guess I’ll just have to keep finding ways to turn the tables."

Y/N leaned in close, their noses nearly brushing, her lips hovering just out of reach. "Good luck with that."

His lips parted slightly, ready to close the gap, but just as he moved, she pulled back with a smirk, leaving him chasing the ghost of her touch. Jayce let out an exaggerated groan, rubbing a hand over his face as she chuckled triumphantly.

"You’re insufferable," he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only fondness.

"And you love it," Y/N reminded him with a wink, turning back toward her tools. "Now, if you’re done trying to prove yourself, I actually have work to do."

Jayce sighed, running a hand through his hair before smirking again. "I’ll let you work, but this isn’t over."

Y/N only grinned over her shoulder. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

VIKTOR

The laboratory hummed with the soft glow of hextech, casting blue reflections across the polished floors. Tools and blueprints lay scattered over Viktor’s workbench, forgotten in the wake of his intense concentration. The metallic scent of machinery and faint traces of burnt ozone filled the air, mingling with the ever-present dampness of Zaun. His cane rested within arm’s reach, leaning against the table—an extension of himself, always present, but secondary to his mind’s pursuit.

Then came the sound of boots. Heavy, deliberate, and confident.

Viktor didn’t need to turn to know who it was. He could feel the shift in the air, the distinct scent of oil and steel mixed with something uniquely her—warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of Zaun’s ever-burning pipes.

“Still working?”

Her voice, smooth and deep, rumbled like distant thunder. A sound that promised both comfort and devastation, depending on who was listening.

Viktor smirked but didn’t look up immediately, his golden eyes flicking across the equations before him. “When am I not?”

He finally turned, gaze drifting upward to meet hers. She was a sight to behold.

The dim hextech lighting cast sharp shadows over her frame, emphasizing the powerful cut of her arms, the broad set of her shoulders, and the sheer presence that followed her like an unspoken force. She wasn’t just strong—she was built. Every muscle, every inch of her screamed dominance, yet she looked at him with a softness that no one else was privileged to see.

Y/N closed the distance between them with a few long strides, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to take a break.”

Viktor exhaled through his nose, a chuckle barely escaping his lips. “That is debatable.”

Her lips quirked. He always had a witty remark, always teasing despite the exhaustion etched into his features. The dark circles under his eyes had grown deeper, the sharp angles of his face more pronounced.

He was pushing himself again.

Without another word, she reached out, gripping his waist with ease and lifting him like he weighed nothing.

“Miláček—!” Viktor’s voice hitched, startled, but she only adjusted him until he was sitting on the edge of the workbench, her large hands firm yet careful. (Darling)

He swallowed hard. His cane clattered against the wood as he instinctively reached out to steady himself, but she was already there, her hands settling on either side of him, pinning him in place.

“This is what you get for not taking care of yourself,” she murmured, her voice lower now, softer.

He felt it then—that contrast between them. His fragility, her unshakable strength. She could crush him in an instant if she wanted to, but instead, she cradled him, held him like something precious.

Viktor’s breath came a little shorter, golden eyes flickering to her hands, to the way her muscles tensed beneath her skin, veins subtly visible beneath the dim glow of the laboratory’s light.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tilting his face up.

“How long since you ate?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, mind racing between pride and the truth.

“I… may have lost track of time.”

A slow, knowing smirk spread across Y/N’s lips. Caught.

“Figured. You always do.”

She reached behind her, pulling a wrapped meal from her belt—something she had clearly anticipated. The habit had started after far too many nights of finding him hunched over his workbench, exhausted, starving, too lost in his research to notice the passage of time.

Viktor sighed, feigning dramatic exasperation. “You are terribly persistent.”

“And you love it.” She peeled back the wrapping and held it up to him expectantly.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he took a slow bite, gaze never leaving hers. There was something intimate in the way she watched him, the way she waited for him to eat, to take care of himself.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, watching him chew. “Good?”

He swallowed, licking his lips. “You always bring the best food. Are you sure you are not trying to fatten me up?”

A chuckle rumbled from her chest, deep and rich. “Maybe. You could use a little more weight.”

Viktor huffed, but he let her feed him another bite anyway.

She stepped closer, her body nearly pressed between his knees now. The warmth of her presence was inescapable, surrounding him in a way that sent a slow shiver down his spine.

Y/N leaned in, her breath brushing against his cheek. “You can keep working,” she whispered, a promise, a challenge, a demand all in one. “But only if you let me take care of you.”

Viktor exhaled, his fingers curling around the edge of the bench. He was a man of logic, of science—but with her, logic had no place.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, lips ghosting against hers, not quite a kiss but a silent surrender.

“Very well,” he murmured.

Y/N smirked, pressing a brief, heated kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back—just enough to make him chase after her touch.

“I knew you’d see reason,” she teased.

And Viktor, for once, let himself be weak in her arms. After all, what was steel without something strong to temper it?

JAYVIK

The soft glow of Piltover’s evening lights filtered through the window of the shared bedroom, casting long shadows across the wooden floors. The room was warm, filled with the scent of parchment, oil, and the faint metallic tang of Hextech—Viktor’s and Jayce’s lingering presences intertwined with hers. Yet, Y/N couldn’t feel it. Not tonight.

She stood in front of the mirror, arms crossed over her torso, gaze tracing the hard lines of her reflection. Strong. Broad. Unshapely. The voices from the Academy’s halls echoed in her mind.

“Have you seen her? She could snap a man in two.”

“Not exactly the delicate kind, is she?”

“Jayce and Viktor must be into something… unconventional.”

Her jaw tightened. It wasn’t the first time she had heard people talk. It shouldn’t have mattered. She knew she was strong. That strength had carved her a place in Piltover’s elite, had let her hold her own in a world that valued refinement and poise over raw power. But standing there, looking at herself—she didn’t feel like the kind of woman Piltover whispered about in admiration.

A sigh sounded behind her. The familiar thump of Viktor’s cane was gentle as he approached, his golden eyes heavy with quiet understanding. He didn’t speak immediately. Viktor had a way of watching, studying, absorbing the weight of her emotions before offering his words.

“Your shoulders are tense,” he observed, his voice laced with concern. He moved beside her, his fingers ghosting along her forearm. “And your eyes are unkind to you tonight.”

Before she could respond, another presence joined them, the warmth of Jayce’s body pressing gently against her from behind. His large hands slid over her waist, fingers firm yet tender as he leaned down to press his lips to her bare shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet since we came back,” Jayce murmured. “What’s going on?”

Y/N clenched her jaw, staring at her reflection. “I heard some people talking,” she admitted, voice clipped. “About me. About us.”

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance, but neither interrupted. They knew she needed to get it out.

“They think it’s strange that you two are with someone like me. That I’m…” Her voice wavered, something bitter catching in her throat. “Not feminine enough.”

A beat of silence. Then, Viktor exhaled, the sound sharp, disapproving. “Imbeciles,” he muttered, his accent thick with disdain. He moved closer, his fingers brushing the back of her hand. “And you listen to them?”

Jayce scoffed, arms tightening around her waist. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know you.”

“But they’re right,” she whispered. “I don’t look like the women they expect you to be with.” She forced herself to hold Viktor’s gaze in the mirror, even as shame clawed at her chest. “I don’t feel like I fit next to you two.”

Viktor’s brow furrowed, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek, tilting her face slightly toward him. His touch was gentle despite the coolness of his fingers. “You are not meant to fit into their expectations,” he murmured. “You are meant to be you.”

Jayce nodded, his lips pressing against her temple. “You’re strong. Beautiful. Gods, Y/N, have you seen yourself? I mean really looked?”

She wanted to argue, but Viktor was already guiding her gaze back to the mirror, his voice low and insistent. “Look at how Jayce holds you,” he said. “Like he never wants to let go.”

Jayce squeezed her waist, his grip reverent. “Because I don’t.”

“And look at how I stand beside you.” Viktor leaned against his cane, yet his posture was firm, unwavering. “Not as a man towering over a delicate flower, but as your equal. As your partner.”

Y/N swallowed hard, emotion tightening in her throat. She had spent so long focusing on what she lacked, what she thought she wasn’t, that she hadn’t truly seen herself through their eyes. The unwavering devotion in Viktor’s gaze, the adoration in Jayce’s touch—it was all there. It had always been there.

Jayce turned her around, cradling her face between his hands. “I love you,” he said firmly, eyes dark with sincerity. “Every part of you.”

Viktor stepped forward, pressing his forehead gently to hers. “As do I.” His voice was quieter, but no less certain. “The world may try to tell you what a woman should be, but we know what you are. And we wouldn’t change a thing.”

Y/N’s breath shuddered out of her. The weight on her chest didn’t vanish entirely, but it lessened, replaced with something warmer, something steadier. She wasn’t alone in this. She never had been.

She looked between them, then back at the mirror—not with disgust this time, but with something closer to acceptance. Maybe even pride.

And as Jayce pulled her into a slow, deep kiss, with Viktor’s fingers lacing through hers, she let herself believe it.

VANDER

The scent of alcohol, fried food, and the faint tinge of smoke lingered in the Last Drop as Y/N hoisted a massive crate of bottled liquor over her shoulder with ease. The wooden floor creaked under her boots as she carried it behind the counter, setting it down with a satisfying thud.

From behind the bar, Vander looked up, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "You know, I could’ve helped with that."

"You could have," Y/N replied, rolling her shoulders, her muscles flexing slightly as she loosened up. "But then you wouldn’t get to admire me in action, would you?"

Vander let out a low chuckle, stepping closer with a slow shake of his head. "That’s true." His eyes trailed over her strong frame, filled with something close to admiration. "Wouldn't dream of missing it."

Y/N gave him a knowing look. "Careful, old man, keep looking at me like that and people are gonna think you’re sweet on me."

Vander exhaled a laugh, reaching out to squeeze her bicep. "Think they already figured that out."

Before he could steal a kiss, a high-pitched voice interrupted.

"Y/N! Y/N! Can you lift me next?"

Powder came barrelling toward her, blue eyes wide with excitement, already reaching her arms up like a child asking to be picked up.

With a fond shake of her head, Y/N scooped the girl up effortlessly, hoisting her onto her shoulders like she weighed nothing. Powder let out a delighted whoop, her small hands grabbing onto Y/N’s head as she stretched her arms out like wings.

"I’m taller than you now, Vi!" Powder declared proudly, her feet kicking lightly against Y/N’s chest.

Vi, who was leaning against a table with her arms crossed, scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, we all know Y/N’s got muscles for days." She eyed Y/N's arms, clearly impressed despite her casual tone. "Speaking of… you gonna teach me how to throw a punch or what?"

Y/N let Powder slide off her shoulders and smirked, cracking her knuckles. "You sure you’re ready for that, kid? I don’t go easy."

Vi’s grin widened, excitement sparking in her eyes. "I hope not."

Vander groaned, shaking his head. "Vi, if she breaks you, I’m the one who has to deal with it."

Y/N shot him a teasing glance. "Please. She’s your daughter. Stubborn as hell. She can take it."

Vi straightened up a little at that, looking more than pleased with herself.

Before Y/N could say anything more, Claggor walked up, rubbing the back of his head. "Hey, Y/N, I bet you could break one of those barrels out back with your bare hands. Wanna test it?"

Y/N raised a brow. "Why? You trying to see if I’m part Shimmer monster or something?"

Claggor grinned. "No, just wanna see if you’re stronger than Vander."

Vander let out a dramatic scoff. "Oi! I’m standing right here."

Mylo, sitting on a barstool with his feet kicked up, smirked. "We all know who’s stronger, old man. Ain’t no shame in it."

Y/N crossed her arms, looking Vander up and down with mock appraisal. "So, you gonna admit defeat now, or should I arm-wrestle you in front of everyone?"

Vander stepped closer, his lips twitching as he met her gaze. "You think you could take me, love?"

Y/N didn’t hesitate. "I know I could."

Vander sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. "Hmm. Maybe I should let you win. Just this once."

"Ha! So you admit it!" Mylo cackled.

Vander shot him a look but couldn’t hide his smirk. "Alright, alright. Let’s settle this, then." He rolled up his sleeve and placed his arm on the bar. "Loser does all the heavy lifting for a week."

Y/N snorted. "You already make me do that anyway."

Vander laughed. "This time, it’d be for fun."

The kids gathered around, eager to watch.

"Three… two… one—GO!" Vi shouted.

Vander pushed, his muscles straining, but Y/N didn’t budge.

"Uh-oh," Claggor muttered, eyes widening.

Mylo leaned forward, grinning. "Damn, Vander, you’re struggling!"

Y/N cocked her head. "You good, old man?"

Vander grit his teeth, trying to shift the angle, but Y/N took advantage of his hesitation and slammed his hand down onto the bar with a loud thunk.

The room erupted.

"YES!" Powder threw her arms in the air. "Y/N wins!"

Vi doubled over laughing. Claggor gave a victorious fist pump. Mylo looked like he was going to cry from laughter.

Vander groaned, rubbing his wrist. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Get it out of your system."

Y/N grinned, leaning her elbow on the bar. "Told you."

Vander shook his head with a chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Fine. You win." His voice softened just a little. "But you’re still carrying the next shipment."

Y/N laughed, giving him a light shove before relenting and letting him hold her. "Yeah, yeah. Like I’d let you do it anyway."

The kids were still celebrating as Powder climbed back onto her shoulders, and Vander just exhaled a laugh.

Life in the Lanes was tough, but together, they built something stronger than steel—family.

And for Vander, well… there was no one else he’d rather have by his side.

SILCO

The dim glow of Silco’s office bathed the room in a wash of amber and shadows, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and smoldering tobacco. It was a quiet night, the hum of Zaun’s underbelly distant beyond the walls.

Y/N sat beside him, as she always did—a silent, constant presence at his side. She draped herself in a dark, well-fitted coat, the fine tailoring hiding the sculpted power beneath. If one didn’t know better, they might mistake her for just another of Silco’s lieutenants, a woman of sharp wit and sharper eyes.

But she was so much more than that.

She was beautiful in a way that left people speechless, a rare kind of allure wrapped in muscle and confidence. Her face, all defined angles and smooth lines, carried a striking elegance—one that softened only for Silco, and even then, just barely. Her beauty was undeniable, yet it was always followed by disbelief.

Because how could someone so breath-taking, so effortlessly graceful, be the same woman who broke men apart with her bare hands?

=

Silco remembers the first time he laid eyes on Y/N, she was drenched in sweat and blood, standing victorious in the heart of the pits. The crowd roared her name—a guttural chant that echoed through the underground like a war cry. She was unlike anything he had seen before: powerful, precise, and utterly relentless.

She had made quick work of her opponent, a man twice her size, breaking him down with brutal efficiency. And when she turned, wiping blood from her lip with the back of her hand, their eyes met. A flicker of something unspoken passed between them.

She was dangerous.

And he wanted her.

So he made her an offer. And she accepted.

At first, she was his champion, the shadow lurking just behind him, a blade he could wield when necessary. But as time passed, the lines blurred. The sharp words they exchanged turned into private conversations late into the night. The way she stood by his side became something more than duty.

And now, she was more than his weapon.

She was his.

=

Silco took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke in a thin stream as his gaze drifted to her. Even in the low light, she was a sight to behold—composure like steel, presence like a silent storm waiting to break.

His queen.

“Something on your mind?” she murmured, her voice smooth but edged with something knowing.

He smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Just reminiscing.”

A single dark brow lifted. “About?”

“The first time I saw you.” His voice was almost wistful, fingers reaching out to trace idly over her knuckles, his touch a stark contrast to the brutality she was capable of. “You were magnificent.”

Y/N chuckled, low and rich. “I still am.”

His laughter was quiet, appreciative. “That you are.”

She leaned back in her chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, the picture of controlled ease. But Silco knew her too well—she was always watching, always calculating. No movement in the room escaped her notice, no potential threat left unaccounted for.

“I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come to you that night,” she mused, eyes dark with contemplation. “If I had stayed down in the pits.”

Silco’s grip on her hand tightened, his scarred fingers pressing firmly against her skin.

“You wouldn’t have.”

She turned her gaze to him, curious.

“You were never meant to be someone’s entertainment,” he murmured, eyes burning with something deep, something possessive. “You were meant to be something far greater.”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Your weapon?”

“No.” His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow, deliberate. “My queen.”

For a moment, Y/N was silent, that rare flicker of emotion crossing her sharp features. Then, she leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to his scarred cheek, her lips warm against his cool skin.

“I like the sound of that.”

Because it was true.

She was never meant to be caged in a pit, throwing punches for drunken gamblers. She was never meant to be anything less than what she was now—the shadow at his side, the storm on the horizon, the queen beside the king.

And in the underbelly of Zaun, where power meant survival, they reigned together—unstoppable, unchallenged, and utterly untouchable.

SEVIKA

The Last Drop was alive with the kind of energy that thrived in the Undercity—laughter that was too sharp to be friendly, the clatter of cards against wood, the tang of sweat and whiskey thick in the air.

You stood near the bar, arms crossed, the snug fit of your sleeveless top emphasizing the carved muscles of your arms. The dim lighting flickered against your skin, casting shifting shadows that danced over the solid contours of your frame. People noticed you—the way your presence took up space, the way you owned it.

But your attention wasn’t on them.

Your gaze was locked on her.

Sevika sat at her usual spot, legs spread in an easy sprawl, shoulders broad, coat draped over her chair. A woman built for war, for brawls in the dim alleyways of Zaun, for surviving every hell that the Undercity threw her way. The neon light caught the gleam of her metal arm as she shuffled her cards, cigarette perched between her lips, smoke curling upward in a lazy dance.

She smirked as she threw down her hand.

The man across from her stiffened, veins bulging at his temple. You could almost see his pride shatter into sharp, jagged pieces as Sevika raked in her winnings with a gloved hand.

“You cheat,” he spat, shoving himself up from his chair. His fists clenched tight—like that would do him any good.

Mistake.

Before Sevika could even move, you did.

Slow. Deliberate. Measured.

The room shifted, attention drawn toward the sudden shift in weight. The low, flickering lights made your shadow loom, swallowing him whole. You weren’t just tall—you were built, a force sculpted by hardship, sharpened by the same fire that tempered steel. The kind of strength that didn’t come from privilege, but from clawing your way up and winning.

The thug’s bravado wavered.

Up close, he barely reached your shoulder.

“You accusing her of something, sweetheart?”

Your voice was calm, but it carried weight—a lazy sort of threat, one that didn’t need to be stated outright. Your posture alone was enough. Shoulders squared, head tilted ever so slightly. A quiet promise of what would happen if he made the wrong decision.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

He wasn’t entirely stupid.

After a moment of hesitation, he muttered something under his breath and scurried off, tail tucked between his legs. The tension around the table faded, conversations resuming like nothing had happened. This was Zaun, after all—no one cared unless blood was spilled.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head before turning back to her.

Sevika was already watching you.

Amusement curled at the edges of her lips, sharp eyes dragging over your form in slow, deliberate assessment. She tapped her cigar against the tray, the ember glowing before dimming into curling smoke.

“You enjoy scaring off my entertainment?” she mused, voice edged with something dry, something knowing.

You stepped closer, looming over where she sat, and she didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver beneath the weight of your presence.

She met it. Matched it.

Your smirk was slow, teasing. “Didn’t realize you liked being disrespected.”

Sevika exhaled smoke, the scent mixing with the whiskey on her breath as she leaned back, prosthetic fingers tapping idly against her glass.

“I don’t,” she admitted, reaching out with her other hand to brush her fingers over your forearm. The touch was light, almost lazy, but intentional. She traced the veins that ran like rivers beneath your skin, the hard lines of muscle beneath her fingertips.

“But I do enjoy watching you step in.”

Something in your chest tightened—not in surprise, but in understanding.

Because you knew what she meant.

She wasn’t someone who needed anyone to defend her. Sevika could hold her own, could break a man in half without blinking. But that wasn’t the point. It was never about needing help—it was about who stood beside her when it mattered.

Your smirk softened, shifting into something smaller, something real. “That so?”

Sevika chuckled, low and rich.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of your collar, tugging you forward—not in aggression, not in demand, but something else. A silent appreciation, an unspoken acknowledgment of what had just passed between you.

The closeness was familiar, natural.

The weight of her forehead pressed lightly against yours for just a brief moment, the noise of the bar fading into something distant, something irrelevant. A pause in the storm, a rare stillness in the chaos of Zaun.

She exhaled, the breath warm against your cheek.

“Come upstairs,” she murmured, voice steady, calm.

It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t even a question.

It was an invitation.

A chance to be, without the weight of the Undercity pressing down. Without the watchful eyes, without the world demanding you be something hard, something unyielding, something unbreakable.

You exhaled a quiet laugh, letting the moment linger before finally nodding.

“Lead the way.”

And just like that, the game was over.

Sevika had won again.

[emilys-bangs]

I love you, I'm sorry | e.p

Tags: bau!reader, london!emily, angst, exes who haven't gotten over each other, implied breakup because reader didn't want kids, petnames used twice bc they're still in love duh

Summary: You get the news that Emily is engaged and suddenly find yourself at a pay phone.

Word count: 1.7k

You think of her. Sometimes in passing, a fleeting thought curling around the corners of your head and dissipating in a quick cloud of smoke. Sometimes for longer—pondering, aching. Wondering where she is and how she’s doing. You never satisfy your curiosity, not even by digging for news from Garcia or JJ.

Her name is familiar in your head. But hearing it out loud, spoken into existence when you’re woefully unprepared, makes you startle. The word that tumbles next from JJ’s mouth makes you sick. 

Engaged.

It rattles around your brain, renders you useless for the rest of the day. You can’t focus, can’t work, can’t write up paperwork, and if Hotch notices or connects the dots, he doesn’t hold it over your head. The clock hits 5 and you jump from your desk, gathering your things and leaving without a word to anyone.

Calling her is a thought. A bad one. You still have her number, but it’s dusty from disuse, lodged deep in your contacts. You think about it, then shake it off.

Then you spot a pay phone.

A pay phone. How cliche.

You make a beeline for it. One foot in front of the other, until you’re picking up the phone and slotting in the money with trembling fingers. Trembling fingers that know the sequence of numbers, that haven’t forgotten how to call for her.

You wonder if she’s forgotten how to answer.

The dial tone rings. Once, twice, thrice, long beeps that have you tapping your foot on the floor, lip between your teeth. The fourth beep dips into silence and you think of hanging up when a click makes your heart jump.

“Hello?”

The breath gets trapped in your throat, your eyes falling shut. What time is it in London?

“Hello? Is someone—”

“Emily.”

Her sharp inhale travels across oceans.

“Y/N.” Your name has never sounded more uncertain. Stilted in her mouth, like she doesn’t know what to do with it. “I didn’t…” Silence gathers, clogs the line. You grip the phone as Emily clears her throat, “I didn’t recognize your number.”

You don’t know where she is right now. You don’t know what her house looks like, you don’t know if her office is anything close to what you’ve been imagining. Hell, you don’t even know how she looks, if she’s grown out her bangs or cut them again, if new lines have marred her face since you’ve last memorized it. And yet, imagining the displeased knit of her brows is easy as breathing. 

What are you doing? 

“You’re getting married?” You ask, your voice fading on the last word. It’s something she’d never been convinced of, until you.

Between the fast patters of your heart, there’s silence. Static humming. Hope rises, swift, and crushes swifter still when Emily answers over the roaring in your ears.

“I am.” She says. Her tone is even, blank. Carefully smoothed out, an emotionless front that you’d learned to shoulder your way past a long time ago. 

Figures that her walls are up again, the locks changed even though the keys are still in your pocket. Someone else holds them now, apparently.

It hasn’t even been a year. 11 months and two days and she’s already found someone.

Mark? Matt? Fiancé.

Your stomach turns.

“Why?” You whisper. “You’ve only known him what, a year? That’s not—you can’t possibly love him.”

Emily laughs, the edges of it razor sharp. “What has love gotten me?” Static wraps around her voice, muffles it, but the bitterness comes through crystal clear. 

“Don’t say that.” You swallow, closing your eyes against hot tears. “Please don’t.”

A low sigh comes through, the phantom heat of it tickling your skin. “It’s setting myself up for heartbreak, amor. I can’t go through that again.”

You ignore the nickname on her tongue, the way it sounds bitter, like the ashy remains of a burnt cigarette. You also ignore the weariness to her voice—the word heartbreak—because the two of you are opposite reflections in the same broken mirror. What you did to her, she did to you. 

Still, you ask with a dry throat, trembling fingers, because your love for her is sewn into your bones.

“Then why marry him? Jesus, Emily, you’ve only known him a few months—” 

“He’s giving me a family.” She interrupts. You pause, words dying on your tongue, because even through the phone you can hear the longing in her voice. “A kid. I’m—I’m fourteen weeks.” Her whisper turns feather-light.

The stretch in your lips tells you your mouth has fallen open. 

“Pregnant?” You breathe, curling your fingers into a fist. Weakness settles in your knees; you grasp the dirty wall of the phone booth, your ragged exhale warming it up.

“Yeah.” Emily’s tone wilts. A slow breath fogs up the speaker. “I’m gonna have a baby.” She says wistfully, her voice already changing, softening.

A baby. The one you couldn’t give her—the one that forced a wedge between the two of you, and then an ocean. Eyes falling closed again, you see Emily’s stomach curving, then you see it pressed into a faceless man’s body. Bile rises up your throat, souring your words.

“You can have a baby without him.” You’re pleading, why are you pleading? She’s not yours anymore, even if she isn’t his. “Please, Emily, don’t—”

“I don’t want to do it alone. Have you thought about that?” The sudden sharpness of her voice makes you flinch. “He’s a good man. He’ll be a good father.”

The words ring hollow in your ears. You shake your head, almost unable to reconcile them with the woman on the phone. “You’re settling.” You say flatly.

“I always thought I would.” 

“It’s not fair to him, Emily!” You yell. “He’s a fucking person, not some pawn in your game.”

“I won’t hurt him,” she grits out. You’re shaking your head again, pacing the claustrophobic box of the telephone booth with the wire tugging you back. “I won’t break his heart. And he won’t hurt me, either.” She sounds so…clinical. Off. Like the London cold has robbed her of her warmth. Or maybe you have. “He can’t.”

Not like you did.

“Jesus.” You dig a fist into your eye, the ridges of your knuckles forcing back frustrated tears. “Do you realize how that fucking sounds? You’re using him!”

For a moment Emily is quiet. Your ragged breaths fill the silence, until movement crackles on her end and her voice comes through, low and steady. 

“I love him enough, and I’m fine with it.”

Part of you wants to sob. Not because she’s getting married, but because she’s doing it like this. When you let her go you wanted her to be happy, even if it tore your chest open. In the end your chest did tear, it cracked, it ached, but for nothing.

“Does he know that?” Your voice breaks. God, when did you start fighting for her fiancé? It’s wrong, everything’s wrong and you just want to slam the phone but you also want to bottle up more of her voice to haunt you later. “You’re lying to him.” 

Just like she lied to you. It’s like it’s in her blood, a twist in her tongue that makes it impossible for her to be straight with anyone. Some irreparable, broken part of her mechanism.

Her silence speaks more than her words. You shake your head, eyes burning, a bitter laugh of your own crawling up your throat. “London hasn’t been doing any good, has it? You’re still the same.”

“I’m not justifying myself to you.” Emily snaps. You catch the way her voice trembles underneath, your words finding the chip in her armor. Good, you think twistedly, even as a sour taste floods your mouth. “He knows what I can give, he’s seen it, he’s fine with it. I want this,” she breathes out; it reaches you in tumultuous waves. “He’s giving me what I want.” But she doesn’t sound firm anymore, her words tinged with a desperation you can hear through the phone, across an ocean.

The street blurs beneath your tears. 

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Emily exhales raggedly into your ear. You can’t see her, but you think maybe she’s crumbling, thumb to her mouth like it always is without your hand to pull it away. Maybe her hand is on her still-flat stomach, natural instinct guiding her protection to the soul growing inside her body. When you close your eyes, tears dip past your lashes, searing as they burn a path down your cheeks. Let go, you have to let go. Of her, of the phone. But your hand is still tightly clenched around both.

A stuffy breath reaches you. Maybe she’s sick, you think idly; she never did have the strongest immune system.

“It…it wasn’t going to be you or nothing, you know.” Emily finally says, hush quiet. Your heart bruises further, but it doesn’t chip into smaller pieces—you’re down to the bare bones of it, and you can’t spare any more fragments to be crushed beneath Emily’s heel. “This—it’s the one thing I’ve wanted, for so long. I told you that, love. I couldn’t let go of it.” The tremble is clear in her voice now, the hard edges worn down to something familiar.

A breath shoves its way down your lungs. The sound you make is embarrassing, out in the air before you can trap it. Emily continues, soft again as if you were back her lover.

“I couldn’t let go of it,” she sniffles, wobbly from something you now know isn’t a cold. “You couldn’t give it to me, that’s okay, I wouldn’t have asked you to. But he can. Life doesn’t stop on…love.” The last word cracks.

“Mine did.” You whisper, watching small drops of rain patter on the concrete beneath your feet. You could try to deny it, try as much as you want to try and fool yourself, but you’ve been stagnant since she left. A hollow, pathetic shell, because you would’ve given her the world but not a kid.

“Don’t marry him,” you warble, pleading again as if she’d listen. “Please, Emily.”

“I have to go,” she says quietly. The rasp in her voice stings your eyes. “Take care of yourself.”

The tone rings before you say goodbye.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights

[lilyevansisamilf7]

Another Life - Spencer Reid

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Non Specified but imagined fem)

Warnings - not spell checked, character death??, cheating, all cm trigger warnings, Maeve, mentions of eating disorders addiction and suicidal thoughts.

Summary - You we’re ready to marry him, he was ready to leave.

———————————————————————

You fell in love four years ago. Budding new SSA Y/L/N and the marvellous Doctor Reid, the BAUs power couple, attached at the hip - perfect.

And perfect it was, you and spencer had been through everything together. Case after case, his addiction, your own struggles with disordered eating, and everything inbetween, so when he started being distant, and getting migraines, you were sure you could help. You found him the best doctors, geneticists, anything and anyone.

You never thought he’d fall for Maeve Donovan, his geneticist, i mean how could you, you’d seen the ring. He was going to propose, or so you thought, a beautiful amethyst ring hidden in the blazer pocket of his work suit. Not your favourite crystal but you’re sure he had a reason for picking it, he always did.

So you began planning.

And you planned and planned until it suddenly didn’t feel like he was going to propose anymore.

“Spence?” You call out from the kitchen where you’re making dinner.

“Yeah love?” He walks in.

“I was just thinking, do you ever think about marrying me?”

“Well yeah in the future when we’ve settled a bit more, i’m happy how we are right now”

“Oh” You sigh, “What about that ring in your blazer pocket? What’s that for then?”

Silence. You know what that means.

“Is she pretty?” He looks down at his shoes.

Your turn off the stove and wipe your hands on your trousers.

“It’s Maeve isn’t it? The doctor?” You giggle sadly “You always liked them smart”

“Y/n…”

“Does she make you happy?”

“Not like you do”

You scoff. He looks at you confused.

You pick at your nails, crying slightly. “You were the one for me Spence, and I just want you to be happy, I thought that was with me but i guess not anymore” You shrug before grabbing your bag.

“What are you doing?” He try’s to grab your hands.

“Im going to stay with Garcia tonight” You reach the door, “Maybe you can invite Maeve for dinner, i made your favourite. I’ll be back tomorrow to gather my things”

“Please don’t do this..”

“Goodbye Spencer Reid”

———————————————————————

The past month had been hell for you, you didn’t tell anyone the real reason you and Spencer split up, not wanting to ruin his friendships with the rest of the team, but you hadn’t been doing well. You’d lost a lot of weight, stopped going out with the team, and started throwing yourself into your work.

It was plain as day that you were heartbroken.

So when Spencer came in, seeking help for Maeve, you were advised to steer clear of the case. But you were determined to show everyone you were fine.

You worked the hardest on the case and found Diane first, and joined spencer on retrieving Maeve.

You walk in unarmed, as requested by Diane, and see Maeve being held by gunpoint.

“Diane, right?” You try and sound as calm as possible, “I’m Y/n”

“Stay back or I shoot her!”

“She rejected you didn’t she? Your paper? I read it and it was good, just needed a little more evidence”

“What evidence?”

“Someone who wasn’t your parents, who wanted to die”

You breath in

“I can help Diane, you need someone like me, you can kill me”

“You’re trying to trick me!” She exclaims.

“i’m not, Maeve doesn’t want to die, do you Maeve”

She begins to cry begging for her life.

“And you do?”

“I’ve got nothing left to live for”

You look to Spencer sadly.

“Think about it Diane, this gives you the evidence you need” You smile.

“You’re trying to trick me!”

“Fine, I guess Dr Donovan was right” I fake sigh and get a little closer, “You aren’t worth the time or effort”

In an instant, Maeve is thrown to the floor and Diane grabs and shoots you both in the stomach.

You fall to the ground.

Spencer instantly runs to you, cradling you in his arms, your breaths shallow and weak.

“Is Maeve okay?”

Astounded at your care he says “Please don’t worry about her, save your strength, the medics are on their way”

“I don’t think i have the time Spence”

“Please baby” He whispers.

“Are you happy Spence?”

“She’s not you…”

He holds you tight and you reach up to cradle his cheek with your hand, “Please let yourself be happy” A metallic taste covering the inside of your mouth.

As he’s holding you he can feel how much smaller you’ve become. “You’ve not been taking care of yourself” He begins to cry

“It’s not important now,” I whisper, “Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think i’m another life we made it

He thinks for a moment.

“I’m every universe i will be forever yours, I just wish it could’ve been in this one too” Beginning to sob

“And i will always be yours too, you were it for me Spencer Reid”

His tears fall down quicker than you can wipe them away.

“At least we’ll have all those other lives, we could have that wedding I planned,” I giggle sadly, “You would’ve loved it”

“I should’ve asked you, I wanted it to be you”

“I wanted it to be me too”

Your eyes begin to close, in the distant shouts for medics get louder, the blaring of sirens closer.

“I love you” he whispers, “Please don’t leave me, we’re not done yet”

———————————————————————

[minus-plus-zer0]

Jealousy

♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort, very fluff ending ♡ Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up, established relationships, dating (Jealousy on both sides, it's all unfounded so don't worry! You two are loyal like dogs to each other)

Bakugou was the jealous type.

Everybody in the entire country knew that. There was nothing Bakugou hated more than imagining you leaving him for somebody else. You wanted to tease him about it sometimes, but his jealousy made him so distressed that you ended up comforting him instead.

Currently, Bakugou was still seething at the man who last flirted with you. The guy disappeared into the street's crowd under Bakugou's contemptuous gaze. His anger could only be distracted by you and your words.

"It's okay, Katsuki," you said, while hugging him. "I only love you. I didn't even flirt back, you know?"

"...I know," Bakugou said. He kissed you on the lips, somewhat possessively. When he opened his eyes again, he looked so sad. "One of these days I wonder if you're gonna find somebody better than me."

"Katsuki!" You glared at him. "I could never find someone better than you! You are the sweetest, most loyal guy I've ever met! Even if you do have a temper." You giggled, poking his forehead.

"Dummy." Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, his arm close around your waist. "Sorry. Shouldn't have gotten jealous."

"No, it's okay! Always tell me when you're jealous, always!"

That's how most of Bakugou's jealousy fits went. Over time, Bakugou became less and less easily aggravated, but he still had his possessive moments. But no matter what, he'd never take his anger out on you or try to control you out of fear.

Meanwhile, you rarely got jealous of Bakugou, mainly because you weren't the type but also because there wasn't much to be jealous of. Bakugou made it crystal clear to everyone what he did and didn't like, and you were one of the few things included on the "like" list. In fact, you were the only person ever included on the "love" list.

But despite Bakugou's poor reputation with the public, he still occasionally found fans who fawned over him. These fans sometimes made you uncomfortable.

One day, you two were out in public together in a quiet side path of the town, walking between various shops. Coincidentally, you caught some of his fawning fans exiting a store. Bakugou paid them no attention but you couldn't take your eyes off of the potential "predators" on your relationship. The fans soon passed but not without some loud screeching and several pictures taken without Bakugou's permission. Initially it irritated Bakugou, but you noticed by the end of it he was paying more attention to you.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, seriously. You two walked in the opposite direction of the fans, their voices getting less loud with more distance.

"Of course not..." you lied. "They're just random fans, it doesn't matter."

You didn't want him to tease you for this. This was one of the few times you had to deal with jealousy, and it took you off guard. It was irrational too, and you knew it. Still, you didn't always like being actively reminded that Bakugou could be wanted by others.

Bakugou wasn't having this. He stopped you in the middle of the side path you walked down, his expression focused.

"Don't be jealous, alright?" he said. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "And don't deny that you are jealous! I've been jealous of you tons of times, so I can recognize that shit anywhere. But it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I only go for the best, ya hear me?" He started beaming at you, and you could tell he really meant it. "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than go back on my promises to you."

That did warm your heart. He caught your lips turning up and his hand brushed against your cheek, but you still shied away from him.

"I just don't get why you chose me," you said. "You've got so many fans. Sometimes I wonder if there are better options for you out there..."

"I fucking doubt it. I have the best judgment and the best taste, so if I chose you, that fucking means something. It means you're as great as me... or better. Now don't go saying that negative stuff about my girlfriend. Or else."

"O-okay! Alright!"

You didn't know what the heck he could be threatening you with, but you didn't want to find out. Regardless, he still looked after you and made sure nothing the fans did ever bothered you. He would never tease you for your jealousy, because he personally knew how much it hurt. You were one of the few people he could trust, and because of that you two were dead loyal to each other no matter the odds.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION VII.

(a/n: apologies apologies for ghosting everyone, I’m back fr so please don’t hate, I love you and thxxx for reading it 🫶❤️)

Warning-none

wc: 1.2 k

ALSO: @ttheggrimrreaper 🔥

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…33, Otoya Eita.”

The screen displayed your newly assigned player along with some of his basic information, but the whispering of the girls behind you made it hard to concentrate.

“I think I’ve seen him somewhere before” one said, turning to the others as they seemed to agree with the girl, inspecting the boy with a dark streak in his hair. Is he famous? Before you could turn around to ask them, somewhere among the back, a loud voice cut through the crowd.

“THAT’S MY EX BOYFRIEND!” she shouted, recognizing her old lover.

“Wait, wha—“ you didn’t even have time to react, because of your friend who pushed you through the exit door, muttering “Hurry, everyone’s staring, and I think someone is about to be attacked” as she closed the door behind you, leaving you dumbfounded.

Imagine being a ninja’s descendant, Otoya Eita’s manager.

——————

Otoya Eita, who you got to know is a famous name among the participants in the facility, at least 10 of them apparently having been in a relationship with the boy before he texted them a quick goodbye saying he had to leave for a soccer program. Not to mention, how the moment you stepped onto the field and said his name out loud, a shadow immediately popped up next to you, his white hair with a green streak in the middle, confirming the identity of who you were trying to find.

“Let me guess, you’re Otoya…?” you said, extending your hand while taking a step back—he was a little too close to your liking.

“Yup, pretty girl. And you are…?” he asked, not even sparing a second to take your hand, complimenting how soft it is.

“Y/N. L/N Y/N, your new manager. Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

——————

•Otoya, who is not so discreet about the fact he finds you attractive, flirting being one of the first things he does at 8 in the morning. He’s handsome, but you immediately turn him down, ‘cause no way you’re losing your job over a scandal.

•The rejection is still sour in his mouth, but he actually stops since you made it crystal clear that you unfortunately don’t want to do anything with him. Professionalism is a must and you’ll make sure to teach him that as well.

•He’s super chill otherwise, but can’t stick to schedule to save his life, and you will probably need a leash, because he tends to randomly disappear for 5 minutes, or half an hour.

•Frequently mixes up his to-do tasks for the day, resulting in him texting you to ask for instructions last minute, yet you will never catch him panicking.

•Otoya during matches is effortlessly skilled, his movements fast like a shadow showcasing a relaxed play style. However during practice it’s inevitable not to listen to his whining.

•“Do I really need to do this?” “I’m already doing good, my favorite manager so why the stress?”

•Takes training half-heartedly, does the drills, and simply stops when he thinks he did enough. Oh wait, you compared him to Karasu? Suddenly he’s back onto his feet, showing you why he’s the best player you could ever get.

•Otoya, who NEVER arrives to practice on time, making the whole team wait, only for him to slowly walk onto the field with a quick “sorry, sorry.” The reason? He was chatting with players at the other end of the building without noticing the time.

•His favorite hobby is teasing you, but if anyone even attempts to badmouth you, he turns into this personal bodyguard. Beware, because someone is going to get hurt on the field.

•“He tripped on his own, I don’t know what you mean Y/N-chan.”

•The cause of trouble, the reason for drama, and the biggest supporter of random fights in the facility. A deflated ball? Someone’s missing shorts? He’s behind all of them.

•You two are practically known for getting called into Anri’s office at least once a month and sometimes you even get to visit Ego-san too.

•Otoya, who pulls out his flirting techniques despite your rejection whenever he’s in trouble, hoping you forgive him—does not work and he has to endure a loooong scolding.

•Overall, Otoya is not that hard to handle, though some effort is needed. His laid-back personality is a great part of your job, and if you pick out his pickles during meal time then there’s nothing to worry about.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Otoya’s fanbase becomes 10x larger, going from local girls admiring his face to international fans sliding into his DMs, making edits of him, or just straight up asking him out on their social media accounts. And the worst of all?

•The moment he gets an official account, he responds to most of them, making your head ache from the amount of calls and messages sent from the pr team, because what do you mean he almost leaked his own number—

•Looking at the positive (and less stressful) side, he’s quick to adapt to his new team, forming a close bond with Bachira. The two of them are like two peas in a pod and the amount of chaos you have to handle doubles.

•Tutoring Otoya is like babysitting. You have 2 minutes to convince him and make the Spanish language entertaining before he’s distracted with his pen’s spinning. Only option left is to watch films, cartoons and listen to music which works surprisingly effectively.

•If you’re feeling sad or insecure as his manager, perhaps his fans have taken it too far, he will try his best to make you smile. His actions speak for themselves when he sits down next to you, handing you a drink while he starts to talk about whatever comes to his mind.

•Perfect at distracting you from your thoughts and when he tells you about a badly went date making you chuckle, he feels like he has scored the final goal to the biggest match of his life.

•You two can bicker a lot, but when an actual argument happens (rare occurrence) he actually apologizes first. Doesn’t like to hold a grudge against you, thinking too many people have left him already. As a peace treaty, he will also make you a personalized playlist.

•When you’re busy, stressed or both, he’ll leave a message or some sort of funny scribble in your notebook that says something like—

Manager-chan, respectfully… go touch some grass. XO, ninja

•To be honest, the only thing Otoya has ever been loyal to is soccer, but after months of working together he grows quite fond of you, demanding a hug on a daily basis.

•DOES NOT tolerate other players hitting on you, but can’t say anything, because he literally did the same thing the first time you met. It’s not jealousy, he convinces himself after a particular player occupies your attention. It’s not jealousy…right?

[sylusonychinus]

Episode 15: The Final Bid

Series Masterlist

The sun was setting as the wedding ceremony reached its peak. The grand hall, adorned with flowers and crystals, shimmered under the soft golden light. Every eye was on them, but for Reader and Sylus, the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Sylus stood tall in his black suit, eyes locked with hers as he patiently awaited her vows. His heart raced, an unfamiliar feeling, something he never expected to experience. All his life, he had lived in control, built empires, conquered every challenge. But none of that had prepared him for the overwhelming flood of emotions he now felt for Reader.

Reader, standing across from him, was no longer the woman who had once been a stranger to him. The time they had spent together—the chaos, the passion, the heartbreak—had brought them closer than he ever thought possible. Her eyes, those familiar eyes that had unknowingly haunted his memories, now looked at him with a depth that made his chest ache. He could see the past, the pain, and the future they would share.

The officiant’s voice was a soft hum in the background as Reader finally spoke her vows. Her words, simple yet sincere, carried the weight of everything they had been through. Her voice trembled slightly, but there was strength behind it.

“I never imagined my life would turn out this way,” she began, glancing up at Sylus. “I was lost, unsure of who I was, who I could be… and then I found you. You were there for me when I needed someone the most. You gave me a purpose, a place in this world. I don’t know where the future will take us, but with you by my side, I know I can face it.”

Sylus’s throat tightened as he listened to her words, the memories flooding back—the struggles, the doubts, and finally, the love that had blossomed between them. He had searched for her for so long, and now, here she was, giving him her heart. He couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips.

“I love you, Sylus,” she finished, her eyes never leaving his.

Sylus took a step forward, his heart pounding. This was it. This moment, everything that had led to this point, was finally here. He placed his hand on hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. His voice was steady but laced with emotion as he spoke his vows.

“I’ve spent my life building walls, protecting myself from the world. I didn’t think I needed anyone—until I met you. I’ve seen who you are, what you’ve been through, and how strong you’ve become. You’re my light, Reader. You always have been. I would never have found peace if it weren’t for you.”

The crowd was silent as they exchanged their vows, but it felt like the world had fallen away. It was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of their new life.

With a soft nod from the officiant, it was time. The final words hung in the air like a sweet promise.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Sylus leaned in, his heart racing. He was so close to her now, their breaths mingling. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if both of them were afraid of waking from this dream. But then, as the weight of everything they had been through together hit them, the kiss deepened, becoming a promise, a sealing of their future. The crowd erupted in applause, but for Sylus and Reader, it was the only moment that mattered.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, joy, and celebration. They danced, their steps light, their hearts full. Sylus held her close, never wanting to let go. The man who had built his empire on power and control was now powerless before the woman he loved. And in that moment, he was happy.

As the night came to a close, Sylus and Reader stepped outside the grand hall. The sky was dark, but the stars above shone brightly. The cool breeze brushed against their faces as they stood on the balcony, taking in the night.

Sylus wrapped his arms around Reader, pulling her close. “I never thought I’d be here, with you. I never thought I could have this… a family, a future. But now, I have everything I could ever want.”

Reader rested her head on his chest, a smile tugging at her lips. “I think we’ve always had everything we needed, Sylus. We just didn’t know it yet.”

Years passed, and life unfolded in ways both unexpected and beautiful. Sylus and Reader’s love only grew stronger with time. They faced challenges, sure, but they faced them together. And with each passing day, the bond between them deepened.

One sunny afternoon, as they sat together in their sprawling home, they heard the sound of little feet pattering down the hall. The door burst open, and there she was—a little girl, no older than four, with white hair and bright red eyes that mirrored Sylus’s own. She had Reader’s personality, quick-witted and full of life, and she loved to mimic her father’s every move.

Sylus’s heart swelled with pride as he scooped her up into his arms. “How’s my little princess?” he asked, his voice thick with affection.

The little girl grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I’m just like you, Daddy!” she declared, her voice filled with excitement.

Sylus laughed, holding her close. “You certainly are. Just like me in every way. But don’t forget, you’re also just like your mother. Strong, beautiful, and full of love.”

Reader smiled from across the room, her heart overflowing with happiness. This was their family. This was the life they had built together.

As Sylus looked at his daughter, he knew that he had everything he had ever wanted—and more. He had the love of his life by his side, a beautiful family, and a future filled with hope.

And in that moment, Sylus knew that no amount of power or wealth could ever compare to the joy of having his own family, his own piece of happiness, to cherish forever.

The End.

Taglist: @nezuswritingdesk @beaconsxd @seris-the-amious @paninisstuff @mysticcollectionvoid @animegamerfox @mcdepressed290 @fries11 @placeholdddddd @madam8 @demon-master-zero @the-reaper472 a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE SERIES SEE YOU ALL IN THE NEXT ONE!!

[phoenixremix69]

Holy fuck guys, i just thought of the saddest Owl House AU ever. I call it the unified world

It all stems from one very simple premise; What if the Day of Unity happened before Luz ever came to the isles?

imagine it, your parents all leave to go to this massive celebration and you're watching on the crystal ball, eager to see this glorious new world. and the next thing you know, everyone is dead. and not just them, adults, older siblings, neighbors, everyone with a sigil all over the isles just slumps over dead. Only about 100 or less wild witches are left scattered around the country. and the children are left to rule over the dying country full of dangerous monsters that love to eat flesh they've inherited

Amity made it out better than most, Ed and Em didn't have sigils so they're still alive. But dammit, Hexside needs order and it looks like she's got to be the one to do it. The children have to be protected. So she takes over with Boscha as her number two. and they make hexside...not safe, but better than outside. Order must be maintained

Gus and Willow leave. Amity's made it pretty clear how she feels about Willow and she's not about to let anything happen to Gus, someone needs to be his rock. poor little guy, not even 12 and his whole world is gone. at least they met up with the legendary owl lady. surely she could protect them if anybody.

She can't. Oh, it was a normal day. she was watching her sister and her ex on the crystal ball, lamenting days gone by. then suddenly, everyone she's ever loved is gone. It's just her, King, and Hooty left. And now these two kids on top of that. And they have to keep moving. The owl house was safe for a few weeks, but then this one monster showed up, covered in eyeballs and screeching about a door and attacking the crap out of them. She almost lost an arm to it. looks like whatever it is heard about her human world goods and thought it could escape to the human realm. Well like crap she's letting that happen. It doesn't matter that without Morton around she's slowly losing her body and magic, she has to keep the kids safe. Worst case Scenario, She's shoving all the kids through and giving them the key. Let this rotten world rot with all of them inside it.

The Collector doesn't like this game. It was going to be so Fun! the Day of Unity would happen, Philip would free him, and they could start a new game. But none of that happened, All he did was shove the disc in his latest grimwalker's arms and shove them both down a big hole, and even if the toy survived the broken leg(gross, did all mortals have that weird red water inside them?) it started dying anyway once the spell started. At least it listened to him when he told it to slice it's arm off. But then the lack of food(right, mortals need food?) made it turn to stone to conserve energy, and it's not like HE can wake it up stuck in this disc. Now he's got no one to play with

ROTTEN UNFORGIVABLE WITCHES! HE'S WON! YOU'RE ALL DEAD AND YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE COURTESY TO GIVE HIM WHAT HE WANTS FROM YOUR CORPSES! WRETCHED PALISMEN ALL RUNNING TO THAT FALSE IDOL THE BAT QUEEN! HE NEEDS THAT DOOR NOW! HE WILL HAVE THAT DOOR! HE WILL GET WHAT HE DESERVES! IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!

[redsrooftopprincess]

Witchy Shit!

An ask from @footninja that I posted as a post accidentally. 🫣

The ask is here

HAPPY ALMOST SAMHAIN MY WITCHES!!! I may have gone a little deeper than "hippie hillbilly witch"... I've been practicing for a WHILE, and magic is one of my autistic special interests, soooo.....

All the boys are FOR SURE Pagan even if that isn't what they call it (Splinter raised them Shinto), and *very* eclectic, but definitely have their own flavors that they gravitate to...

Leo

Did you say MEDITATING? When? Where? How long? He is ready to sit with you peacefully for hours.

Want to start mixing your own incense/tea? He'll help you research and grow the herbs you need.

BONSAI ZEN GARDEN

Night time dates to ALL the secret/private botanical gardens in the city.

The first time he sees you in a garden in the daylight, surrounded by butterflies, he looses the power of speech.

When you're having a tough time at work, expect tea and a full body massage with all natural oils in a candlelit room when you get home. If you are feeling up to it, that massage can and will escalate to the most transcendent, mild blowing tantric sex imaginable, leaving you fully relaxed mind, body, and spirit.

NOTE: Depending on exactly how "crunchy granola" you are, you may find yourself in conflict with his OCD, so be EXTRA respectful of his space.

Craft: Green Witch

Element: Earth

Archetype: The Hero

Major Arcana: Temperance

Raph

Need help with Ritual? My guy is a WORKHORSE. Where did you want that solid stone altar, again?

Bardic circle like a BOSS. My guy is always down for drinks, songs, and good stories, and the reverb of his voice from his shell means you can feel his singing in your feet like thunder.

Speaking of his voice: guided meditations.

Speaking of guided meditations: guided meditations that take a filthy turn halfway through. 😏

Firetender extraordinare. Want it to burn forever? This guy can drop in literal trees that'll keep the balefire lit until next Solstice.

By FAR the most in touch with his animal side.

He's a beast who not only has NO PROBLEM chasing you, naked, through the woods, but will 1000% instigate. LOVES sex outside (I may have a story about an amethyst cavern, but you didn't hear that because it's not written yet).

Craft: Primal Witch

Element: Fire

Archetype: The Knight

Major Arcana: Strength

Donnie

Oddly accepting of the witchy shit for a techy guy. He's smart enough to know that he doesn't know everything.

Writes a program that will help you track EVERYTHING. Moon, planets, planting, hurricane season, you name it.

Builds you a whole ass Orrery, because despite his program you *still* missed a celestial event and you were sad.

Expect after hours dates to the Hayden Planetarium during eclipses, meteor showers, comets, or any other excuse he can come up with to look at the stars with you.

SIGILS ON POINT. Fractals and sacred geometry, this guy is PRECISE. Made a Mercury Square once that you're pretty sure caused a blackout. He disagrees, but he doesn't make planetary squares anymore.

A night outside of the city looking at the stars? Expect my guy to be drawing star charts on your skin, before "exploring the heavens."

Craft: Celestial Witch

Element: Air

Archetype: The Magician

Tarot Card: The Magician

Mikey

Is straight up pagan.

Beaded bracelets? Hell yes. Macrame? On lock. Candle making? Crystal Wrapping? This boy is DOWN with the Witchy Crafts.

Vibes with his semiaquatic nature on a grand scale. The first time you caught him meditating underwater you nearly had a heart attack until you remembered.

If you introduce him to your people, he will fully write and lead rituals for literally anything. Leo may be master of the Dojo, but *no one* directs people's energy like Mike.

If you even suggest it *vaguely*, he is fully ON BOARD to start a coven/grove/whatever with you as your consort.

Oddly good at High Magic, but only practices VERY rarely. Won't Oracle for evocations because the idea of having someone else in his head weirds him out, but has a 100% success rate negotiating with Otherworldly Entities.

Sex magic in the ocean under a full moon? Uh, why aren't you in the water already?

Calls himself "Magic Mike."

Element: Water

Craft: Water Witch

Archetype: The Lover

Tarot Card: Wheel of Fortune

....

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

(if you want to be tagged lmk)

[padfoot-lupin77]

Watching Dead Boy Detectives and, well, thoughts while watching:

The cat king is so much worse than I imagined.

“You know you can think things without saying them. Edwin’s obviously jealous” jkfjxdkdkfkhfkd Crystal out here solving the real mysteries

Charles Rowland you are a fucking genius (episode 4, after kicking the bitch lady in the fish)

Why the FUCK are Charles and Crystal making out

Do I want Monty to get out of the way? Absolutely. Do I want him to have a character development and call Esther out on her shit? Of course. Do I still hate him a little? Yeah just a little

Crystal don’t drink that, Maren is about to drug you. (CALLED IT!)

Psychopath lesbians weren’t what I was expecting out of this

Clutching your heart after hugging your best friend isn’t usual platonic behavior. Just saying, Edwin.

David is my mortal enemy. Well. He’s not mortal. But he’s my enemy so still.

“I have feelings for you too” GOOD FOR YOU MONTY! BUT: the feelings he has, are NOT for you so 🤷‍♀️

Tragic Mick’s is Magic Tricks with the first letters swapped

Monty DON’T make me change my mind I don’t quite hate you yet DON’T waste your chance of being on my good books LEAVE my boys alone pls and ty

Can people PLEASE start respecting Jenny’s boundaries

EDWIN DESERVES THE WORLD

Jenny has had enough near-death experiences by now she should be able to see the ghosts (update:🙃)

Can someone murder Esther or send her to hell or smth

Go kiss somewhere else not in front of Edwin you motherfuckers (affectionately)(but also pls stop hurting my boy Edwin)

If Esther isn’t dead and my boys aren’t free by the end of the season I’m suing Netflix

Monty be useful FOR ONCE and turn back to human to save your ex crush and his crush

If the snake starts speaking I’ll lose it

I love Charles so much

Jfkhfdkdkjfdgjdgsgfshfs

[vickytaa]

Going to this party was a mistake. I knew it, but I didn't want to admit it.

Seeing Chris so happy and so... relaxed after everything that's happened between the two of us, oh my god, it hurt.

How could he be so... calm?

I haven't been able to have even a minute of rest where I didn't torture myself for ruining "ours."

But I was lying to myself. There was no us, there was no “ours.” It was just my imagination, my foolish heart falling in love with the forbidden.

Chris had warned me about this, because he always knew what would happen, he knew me. But why did I just get carried away by the moment? Why didn't I stop when it started to hurt?

It's like I'm twisting the knife inside myself all the time.

My heart had already stopped the moment Chris got up from our my bed, saying that we should never have done this.

My eyes were once again filled with tears of pain. Crystal tears. The words that came out of his mouth, the moments when I innocently thought there was something between us, everything we went through together, were running through my mind. Rather, they lived there.

But to see him like this? Laughing and having fun with his friends as if he hadn't broken someone's heart a few days ago?

I thought it meant something to him, that there was something more than just fucking. But no. There never was. And there never will be.

And I should have understood that, but I couldn't really wrap my head around it. That's the problem.

I am the problem.

Unable to take my attention off of him, his eyes met mine, and for a second I thought he could see beyond my red, watery eyes, beyond the words I once said, beyond everything. He could see me.

But it didn't matter anymore, because he already knew everything about me. There was nothing more to know.

I walked through the sweaty bodies of people, trying to find a way out of this horrible place. Trying to find a way out of this pain.

The cold air froze my thoughts, this was my way out. My accelerated breathing slowly returned to its normal rhythm.

The tears slowly came out. The pain in my chest was getting stronger than last night.

"Y/n..." A familiar voice stopped time.

Chris grabbed my arms and turned me around to face him. It broke him into a thousand pieces to see me like this, knowing that he was the reason for all of this.

"I just... I just don't understand, Chris! I can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone." My sobs added to the broken feeling in my voice.

"I guess you never meant what you said that night." My mind went back to the moment when Chris said that I was very important to him, that he could never hurt me. Never.

Chris stretched out his arms trying to hug me to calm my crying, while I pushed him with the last of my strength, trying to get away from him.

"No! Don't take me with you anymore!" I tried to act strong by pushing him away, only proving that I wasn't.

Chris could have done whatever he wanted with me, but he just stood there. He wouldn't leave no matter how much I begged him to leave. Because he and I both knew it wasn't true.

"I hate you because... even though you're killing me, I need you... I need you like the air I breathe." The words were out of my mouth before I could process them.

I couldn't think what I was saying, my mind was so damaged.

"Shh" Chris tried to silence me, knowing this is hurting us both.

Moving away wasn't the easiest decision, but it was the best one for both of us. Or so Chris thought.

"I need you, Chris." My voice was getting quieter and quieter, even though I was trying to scream with all my might.

Chris's eyes matched mine, filled with tears, releasing the pain he once felt but never wanted to show.

My cheek was pressed tightly against Chris's chest. His arms were wrapped around me as best they could, trying to keep me close, thinking, knowing that if he let go I would run away, just like he did.

My mouth released, as low as a sigh, my last prayer before breaking, "You- I... I need you"

[imbellatrix]

Hi! Me again, sorry dknw It could be with an omniscient narrator, or from Erika’s POV. It would also be great if they met again during a battle—very dramatic. Then things gradually start to soften between them, but first venting and returning to trust the other little by little. I leave it to your will actually

I'm proud of you, Erika. — Eldarya One-Shot

Oh, hey there! It's me again. I'm back. Here's your one-shot, sorry for the delay. I hope you like it. I chose an omniscient narration so I could dive more into what’s going on in Nevra’s head.

I also left an open ending because I didn’t think it made sense for them to resolve everything so quickly, so… I decided to keep it more open. Hope you like it. Enjoy the read!

The sky was tinged with a heavy gray, and the cold wind blew through the trees, like a constant whisper of solitude that Erika had learned to endure. The forest around her seemed to mirror her own journey: dense, filled with shadows and hidden dangers. Each step she took there was another reminder of her independence, of her newfound strength—a strength she never imagined she would have to find alone. But she did, because when she needed support the most, she received the least. It was sad. Painful.

Since the moment she had awoken from the crystal, Erika had felt the weight of a reality very different from the one she remembered. Before, the Guard was her home, the place where she found purpose and people she considered friends. But upon her return, she realized that welcome had turned into suspicion. She was a stranger among familiar faces. The way they looked at her—with a mixture of fear, judgment, and even disdain—corroded her soul. Where she once saw friendship, she now found closed doors. Whispers behind her back, evasive glances, all signs that her place there had changed, and she didn’t know why.

First, it could be said that she had become a legend. Or rather, a trophy. A mere trophy the Guard displayed when they needed to boast of past victories. Just an object. Erika felt that everyone in the refuge didn’t see her as she truly was. No. They saw her as that statue made in her honor.

Honor... What a ridiculous word. Erika didn’t want a statue, nor applause, nor bouquets of flowers or lit candles to "honor" her. No. The only thing Erika had asked for was support. A friend’s shoulder to cry on when all this grief weighed down on her shoulders, making her scream with inner pain. Someone to confide in about everything she felt. But that’s not what she received.

All she got was Karenn asking her to be quiet and Huang Hua saying she had more important things to do. Was it so hard to act like a friend?

And Nevra… He was, perhaps, the greatest mystery. In the beginning, her return had brought a silent comfort, an unspoken understanding that everything would be okay. But soon he started to pull away, as if there was an invisible barrier between them. He seemed at times worried, at times irritated, alternating between gestures of affection and a contempt that hurt her deeply. His words were sharp, and each encounter between them left invisible wounds on Erika, who tried, day after day, to understand what had happened. Nevra, who had once been her safe harbor, was now a source of relentless anguish. And yet, she couldn’t stop loving him.

They shared a story of love, of overcoming, of battles and victories. And yet, Nevra looked at her as if she were some random girl he had never heard of. A stranger. Even Koori seemed closer to Nevra than Erika, and Koori and Nevra weren’t even friends.

After a while, Erika grew tired of fighting for an acceptance that never seemed to come. It was then that she decided to leave, searching for a place where she could rediscover her essence, far from the judging eyes. And she found that refuge with a group of witches, powerful and fearless women who didn’t carry the Guard’s prejudices and who welcomed her like a daughter. With them, Erika learned to master her magic, to listen to the call of her essence, and to fight for herself, without depending on anyone’s approval. The witches, though looked down upon, were welcoming and taught her what the Guard had never taught her: the true value of who she was.

They made Erika open her eyes. That’s when Erika saw all the manipulation Huang Hua had imposed on her. All the neglect she suffered. All the times they turned their backs on her. For what? In the end, she had become just a pawn in the war for everyone—a pawn to be sacrificed so the queen on the board might survive.

Was that what Valkyon died for? And Leiftan? Ykhar? Kero? All those people who gave everything for the Guard, only for it to lose itself and abandon its true values of family and support, hiding cowardly behind a false moral high ground.

That time away from the HQ showed her there was a vast world beyond the Guard's limits. But as time passed, she still carried the weight of what she had left behind in her heart. There was a bitter longing mixed with a sadness that wouldn’t leave her, especially on lonely nights. It was hard to completely break free from the past, from the memory of Nevra and everything he had represented. In her mind, memories wavered between love and pain, between the desire to see him again and the need to forget.

But fate had its own plans, which sometimes were funny, other times harsh and surprising. And that night, under the pale light of the moon, Erika found herself back in the middle of a battle. The shadowy creatures appeared without warning, and she soon found herself fighting alongside members of the Guard, though she kept a certain distance, still hesitant to get too close.

Then she saw him. Nevra was there, facing a group of enemies with the agility and skill she knew so well. But there was something different about him, a shadow of exhaustion and pain he tried to hide under his confident demeanor. When their eyes met, time seemed to stop, and Erika felt her heart tighten. He, too, was staring at her, unsure of what to say, as if every word were trapped in his throat.

Side by side, they fought in silence, their movements synchronized as before, but the weight of the distance between them made each action a painful reminder of what they had lost. After the last creature fell, both stood there, panting, surrounded by the heavy silence of the forest. The tension was almost palpable, and Erika knew words needed to be spoken.

“You… left,” Nevra said, his voice low, as if admitting a bitter truth. She hadn’t expected him to speak first, even though she had no intention of making the first move. Now you decide to talk to me? Don’t you think it’s too late? “I looked for you, you know? But you never came back.”

Erika crossed her arms, her gaze hard. His words surprised her. And though a small voice in her head felt happy that he had looked for her, the resentment spoke louder, and her blood boiled. “Come back? For what, Nevra? To be treated like an outsider? To be ignored and humiliated as if I were a problem?”

He hadn’t expected such a harsh response. His eyes widened. Where was the sweet Erika he once knew? Guilt washed over him, and he looked away. Guilt was etched on his face. He knew this was his fault. And even if Erika considered something bigger, even if she blamed the Guard and the system, Nevra had placed the burden of guilt squarely on his own shoulders. He couldn’t blame Huang Hua, his sister, or his brother-in-law. No. He was the one who should have supported Erika. Perhaps if he had, she wouldn’t have left him. He replied:

"I know… I know I was wrong. I acted like an idiot. I didn’t know how to handle your return, and it made me cruel. Only now do I see how wrong that was."

“It wasn’t just a mistake, Nevra,” she replied, her voice filled with pain. If she weren’t so much stronger now, emotionally and physically, she would certainly have started crying. Instead, she remained tearless but with the voice of a woman broken inside. “You hurt me. And not just you; everyone hurt me. It was as if I were fighting for acceptance that would never come, as if no one wanted me back.”

Nevra closed his eyes, absorbing her words like a wound reopening. “I was afraid, Erika. Afraid of losing you again. When you disappeared, I… a part of me was lost too. And when you came back, I thought it would be easy, but I realized I no longer knew how to approach you. So, I pushed you away. I was cowardly, cruel… I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.”

He had been sincere. Erika was a part of him that he had never been able to let go, and now he could see that more clearly. Erika and he, before, were two distinct souls. Then, they had united into one being. And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Nevra was only half of someone he used to be whole with. All because Erika died, and the man he had been in the past went with her. Until she returned, and he found himself lost. It was strange to feel his heart beating again after so long with a void in his chest.

She watched him, seeing, for the first time, the depth of regret in his eyes. He was there, stripped of all arrogance, devoid of any pretense. Nevra, the man who had always prided himself on his control, now seemed as vulnerable as she had felt so many times. He didn’t even seem like the proud and arrogant leader of the Shadow Guard. He had always defended that a leader couldn’t show weakness, but now he was opening his heart to Erika as he had never done with anyone.

"You have no idea what it was like for me," Erika said, her voice trembling. "Every night, I wondered if you would come to me, if you would explain yourself, if you would try to understand me. But instead, you treated me like a stranger. And I was left alone."

She didn’t understand why she was explaining herself. He didn’t deserve her explanations. No member of the guard did. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched, hesitant, as if he feared she might disappear. "Erika, forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but… you need to know that I regret every word, every action. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did."

She felt tears threatening to fall, but she held them back. It was hard to let her guard down after everything. But there, seeing his face marked by regret, by the weight of the choices he had made, Erika felt something break inside her. After so long being tough among the witches, Erika felt like a little girl again. A vulnerable little girl who wanted nothing more than a hug from him.

"Maybe I can forgive you, Nevra," she finally said, her voice almost a whisper. "But you need to understand that this won’t erase what happened. The scars are still here, and I don’t know if they’ll ever go away."

Nevra nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. Ah, he knew well about scars that don’t disappear. And he wasn’t even referring to the scar on his eye. "I don’t expect you to forget, Erika. But, if you’ll allow me, I want to be by your side, so we can rebuild what was lost, step by step, day by day. I… I don’t know if I’ll ever regain your trust, but I’m willing to try."

They stood there, frozen, enveloped by the darkness of the forest and the unspoken words. The future was uncertain, and both knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But, that night, something had changed. They had found each other again, not as they were before, but with the promise of a different beginning, perhaps even a truer one.

Erika looked at him one last time before turning and walking in the opposite direction, toward the witches waiting for her on the other side of the forest, where they couldn’t even be seen from that spot. Nevra stayed where he was, watching her leave, with the determination of someone who knew that one day, he would find a way back to her heart.

"You have a chance. We’ll meet again, Nevra. Don’t mess it up."

That was the last thing she said before walking away again. Nevra didn’t even try to follow her. No. She was free. She deserved that freedom. And in his heart, he knew he would see her again. He gave a faint smile.

"I’m proud of you, Erika."

She was already too far to hear.