#it’s been a while and I’m still upset

[rhyrhy]

Head of this house

After one too many bickering sessions with Abby about her long hours, you fell asleep while doing laundry. Uh oh

Cw: Smut! Strap on (r! Receiving), soft dom Abby!, traditional housewife views, slight rough sex, (no major petnames! Just a few sprinkled in) added visuals, blah blah blah. Slut activities.

4k words | MDNI- mlist

You lay there, sore and beyond satisfied on your duvet. Your panting had finally slowed. The room only filled with the distant hiss of the master bedroom shower being run by your wife. As your thoughts came back to you, you couldn't help but blush at the flashbacks from just moments ago…

Abby had just walked through the door after a long day at work. Sweat clung to her skin from the hot, grueling job on the site. However, as soon as she got home you didn’t come greet her like usual. oh lord that meant either you were sleeping or still upset by the argument of her work hours.

Heading into the bedroom and seeing you sprawled out on the bed and the bonnet covering half your face just furthered her thoughts. she sighed and leaned over and gently removed the covering off your head. she took a moment to just stare at your peaceful face a small smile forming on her own as her eyes roamed all over you.

her gaze lingered for a moment longer before she looked around the room and noticed the mess of clothes scattered everywhere. Her smile dropped.

she knew you’d been working on laundry a while ago, but for some reason got distracted. now she had to clean up after you, something that usually didn’t happen and she didn’t like it one bit.

she couldn’t help the small flare of irritation in her chest at the sight of it. she shook her head but quickly tried to push the thought aside and instead focus on her wife front of her after missing her... but the messy clothes were just a small reminder that you weren’t the perfect housewife she thought you were. she began tidying it all up, trying to keep the grumble of annoyance from her mouth low as she continued.

A line of colorful language woke you.

“You’re home?” You sleepily sat up realizing you’d lost track of time.

“Mhm, I just got home.” As you sat up, the shirt rode up and she couldn’t help but rake her eyes down your body. her own pants suddenly feeling like too many clothes, as she leaned against the dresser.

“I came in to see you all laid out on the bed, and yet you didn’t come greet me.” she said, her voice a little gruff from the long day.

You felt your stomach twist with guilt. She’d worked all day, and you’d lazily fallen asleep… But this was also just an off day. She’d understand that, right?

“I wasn’t aware you’d be working so late tonight.” half-truth; you couldn't remember if she told you or not.

“I told you that last night. I’ve had to work late these past few days to finish up a project on time. I don’t understand why you get all bent out of shape about it.” She huffed in response, still leaning against the dresser, her toned, arms crossed tightly in front of her.

Oh, here we go. You two never fought really, but when you did? It was over; you never saw her unless the sun was down and the streetlights were on. You tried to move topics but somehow kept ending up in the same spot.

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 “You just do more overtime than needed. Is all I was saying” this was true; she was a workaholic. Yes, she took care of you, but what’s the point of you never getting to hold her, kiss her, or be near her?

She groaned in annoyance, pushing off the dresser and stalking over to the bed. She stood over you, an eyebrow raised and irritation in her voice.

“You know how important my job is to me. Do you have any idea how much pressure is on me to get this job done on time? And then I come home to find things not done the way they’re supposed to be. Maybe you should be focusing more on keeping yourself busy while I’m out working my ass off.” She hated when you brought that up; true or not, you hit low. She was going to hit lower.

“What are you talking about—Oh lord, I fell asleep! Don’t act like that.” You huffed; no way she was this pissed. You always kept the house together, but today it was being hung over your head. And you didn’t like it one bit. She had dinner on the stove waiting for her for god's sake.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, fingers brushing her belt. You could feel the room grow hotter as both of you glared daggers. It felt like a standoff.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! I came home to find clothes all over the floor like a damn tornado went through here. I had to pick it all up for you”.

“I was between cleaning and dinner, The house is never a mess. So you have no right to throw this in my face!” You sighed. This truly felt ridiculous. Had she forgotten everything leading up to today?

“You’re damn right I’m going to throw it in your face when I come home and find it a mess. I work my ass off all day to pay the bills; the least you can do is keep the house clean for me when I get home.”

She stepped even closer, standing only a few feet away from you now. She towered over you in a way that said, ‘I dare you to keep talking back.’. You know you should stop; just explain you were having an off day, but her tone was making that hard to do. 

She huffed again, her eyes narrowing. She could see the challenge in your expression as you sat there on the bed, shirt bunched up and revealing the smooth planes of your body. She could see it clear as day, and it made the irritation in her chest grow. You were on thin ice, and you willingly kept skating.

“Do you even realize what you’re wearing right now?”

What the fuck was she talking about? It’s a sleep shirt and shorts. Did she not hear that part where you said you were doing laundry? Ugh

But your reply was unknowingly the first strike.

“What? Oh, now you are going to be upset by what I’m wearing’ to bed too?” 

It felt like hell itself in the master bedroom. You hated fighting with her; you really did. With her late hours and you spending more time with your family, it felt like a wedge was being pushed between you two. Not to mention the obvious baby fever she’d been having, and yes, she’d be a good coparent but how can she promise that if you don’t see her now? 

It was too much, too fast, too heated. 

She clenched her jaw, her patience nearing its breaking point. Her eyes were flashing with borderline anger now, her jaw set in a hard line. Her towering a few steps away, you had moved to lean on the doorframe. Honestly, maybe it was better to walk away and take a breather. You two were usually good about that; you just hoped it would reach today.

“Do you even listen to a damn thing I say? You’ve been getting more and more mouthy lately, and I don’t like it. at. all.” Mouthy? You were being a little defensive, yes, but you weren’t trying to push her buttons on purpose. Even if it did get you a little hot to see her like this on occasion.

her hands were balled into fists at her side, itching to reach out and do something about your behavior. She took a breath, trying to calm herself, but the sight of you staring back at her, challenging her, was making it hard to do.

“You need to keep that smart mouth of yours in check, understand?” She raised a hand, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look directly at her. Other hand gripped her hip, a clear sign of bubbling over irritation.

Her grip on your chin got a little tighter, a warning to stay compliant. She looked down at you, her eyes flickering all over your face, and the way your breath was coming out in shallow pants. her own chest was heaving as she stood there, trying to keep a steady hold on the anger and nagging pang of lust that was running through her.

A few moments of silence passed, allowing you both to take a much-needed breath. She began to speak again, but the sound of your own breathing and foot tapping on the floor was all you could hear. She went on and on, Jesus. 

“Are you listening to me?

She leaned down, her face now only a few inches away from yours. Her voice was low. her hand moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck instead. She tugged your hair, pulling your head back a little bit, forcing you to look up at her. Waiting for your answer.

“Yes, I’m listening—will you knock that off?” you spat out, interrupted by the hair tug.

“I just don’t understand why you’re acting so damn bratty lately. It’s really starting to get on my nerves—” You felt her hand tense, then ball up a bit more on your scalp. 

One thing Abby hated more than you being mouthy was an eye roll following it, and you had just done it while she was talking. She tugged your hair again, just a little bit rougher this time.

“Excuse—Did you just roll your eyes at me?” she said, pure disbelief in her voice. You were really starting to push it. The irritation and anger were only growing, and she was getting more and more tempted to put you in your place right then and there.

That was strike two. 

She took another deep breath, her balled grip on your scalp still too tight. Her words were gritted out through her teeth. She wanted you to just apologize and not let it happen again.

“You better remember your place, honey. I’m the head of this house, and I won’t tolerate this kind of attitude.

Attitude. A word she repeated like a prayer, she swore you had the stinkiest attitude she’d ever seen when you fought. It irritated you highly; it felt like she was talking down to you.  You weren’t a child; you were her wife, her equal. housewife roll aside.

“I’m only giving you attitude because you’re being ridiculous, Abbigail!” You threw your arms up.  No honey, sweetheart, or any other cute name she was used to. Her full name, 

A-b-b-i-g-a-l. Her full name. 

That’s it. That did it. She went from mildly annoyed to furious in two seconds. The sound of her full first name falling from your lips combined with that stubborn, whiny tone in your voice pushed her over the edge she was hanging over.

She let go of your hair and grabbed your upper arm, standing you up from leaning on the doorway in one swift movement. She stood in front of you, towering over you, her voice low and full of irritation.

“Excuse me? …What did you just call me?”

Ah shit. It slipped out before you could stop yourself; she hated when you used her government. A line you had just crossed, regret starting to pool along with an uncomfortable arousal from how close she was standing. This woman can bench 205 pounds; she wasn’t afraid to do some manhandling if needed. You only ever got the soft side of her, and this was definitely not that. It was best to stand down…but your mouth had other plans.

She grabbed your other arm, her grip tight on your wrists as she stared you down. She was struggling to keep herself in control; the urge to shut you up was starting to become hard to ignore.

“You wanna repeat that?” she asked, her voice louder and more authoritative this time. You were going to answer, and now. She just didn’t know how much she was going to dislike your tone when you did.

“I said. You are being ridiculous, Abigail, because you are.” She was; this was deeper than today. An unspoken conversation about the growing distance between you two. Your own frustrations began to flow out as you continued on.

That was definitely strike three. You were asking for it, and she was going to give it to you.

That did it. The continual rise of your voice and finger pointing. She pushed you backwards, slamming you against the wall with brute force. her body pressed against yours, pinning you against the wall.

“Don’t you ever use that tone with me” “have you lost your mind?”

She spit out through clenched teeth, her eyes staring down at you intensely as she held you there. her breathing was labored, her body tense. the way you were pressed against her, your body soft and chest to chest, it was only making things worse. it was taking all her restraint not to throw you over her lap. Rough wasn’t really what she favored most days, but it was seeming like a beautiful idea right about now.

“You need to learn to respect me. You are my wife, and I am yours. I work hard to provide for us, and what do you do? Sit at home all day and then get sassy when I come in tired?”

She cut you off mid-sentence with some half-hearted apology, half whine.

“Unt uh! Save it. I don’t want to hear it. You’ve been acting like this for too damn long, and I’m tired of it.”

Her eyes triangled down to your mouth, her breathing labored as she fought to keep her cool. Your lips were parted, your eyes wide, and the sight of you like that was making her feel dizzy. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her lips were on yours in an instant, her body pressing against you even harder. There was no sweetness or tenderness in this kiss—it was pure, raw need.

You felt your stomach twist. Oh, she was pissed, and you...kind of liked it? No- really. Liked it

She was kissing you with a ferocity that you hadn’t experienced before. Her tongue was in your mouth, exploring every inch, claiming your mouth. Her hands let go of your wrists, snaking down to grip your hips firmly. A soft sigh fell between you two; god, it’s been so long since you two got to hold each other longer than a few minutes before bed.

She broke the kiss, only to take a moment to look at you. Her eyes were dark, filled with an almost feral need. She leaned in, her mouth close to the shell of your ear.

“You’ve been pushing me for so damn long. I think it’s about time I knock you down a few notches.”

And honestly, you needed it. Wanted it, her.

“Now, you’re going to go over to the bed and get in that exact same position you were in when I walked in here, understood?” 

Oh, you understood alright; all you wanted to do was leap onto the bed and let her get it all out. You were still irritated by the previous conversation, yes, but you wouldn’t have married her if you didn’t like this side of her.

Her eyes were still fixed on you as she began to strip out of her work clothes, unbuttoning her flannel shirt and discarding it on the floor. her undershirt followed suit, revealing her physique that you loved. She then worked on taking off her jeans, shimmying out of them and kicking them aside.

“You’re going to lay there while I show you who’s in charge, yeah?”

As mad as she was, she was still checking in; railing your brains out was only ever done if wanted and only then. You nodded, returning to your position from before the argument. On your stomach, head propped on your arm.

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to follow suit and undress, but you didn’t have time to wonder long when, without another word, she climbed onto the bed, looming over you.

Her hands were on your body in an instant, exploring every inch. They roamed over your skin, touching and squeezing and gripping. She was being rougher than usual, her touch almost possessive.

Her breath was hot against your neck as she spoke, her body pressed against your back.

“You remember who’s in charge around here, don’t you, hm?” She loved hearing you say it. A small smile when you confirmed that you did.

“Damn straight you do.” She pulled the shirt over your head, discarding it on the floor. Her eyes roamed over your now-exposed body, taking in every inch. 

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Her hands moved back to your hips, gripping them tightly again, her fingers digging into your skin. Grinding herself on the fat of your ass. Her weight on top of yours was as comfortable as a weighted blanket, a small hum of approval falling out when she began to kiss your bare shoulder.

The feeling of her strong thighs and bare cunt on the thin fabric of your shorts had your breath hitching. You know it’s been too long when small friction like this had her mewing moans into your warmed skin already.

Her hand found its way pulling your hair out of the way, causing you to tilt your head to meet your shoulder. Her chest now completely pressed against the skin of your back, messily kissing her way up to your lips.

She rubs herself against your clothed ass a bit more desperately. “Mm— God... I need this.” She was mostly saying that to herself, but it was nice to hear.

Her mouth leaves wet trails over your soft skin as her hands travel down from your face to the base of your neck. Calloused fingers guiding your head further over as she crashed her lips back into yours. She swiftly bit your lip to gain entrance of your mouth with her tongue, bullying yours, followed by another shared moan. 

Eventually, once she pulled back for air, she lifted off your hips just enough to pull your shorts and underwear down, tossing them next to her forgotten work clothes. 

Wasting no time, she leaned forward, burying her face between your thighs, her tongue immediately going to work on your pussy. Zigzagging through your folds, her grip tight, harder on your hips and legs spread you open and still as possible.

“Shit, abs,” you choked out, your cheek heavily rested on the plush pillow. Holding on for dear life. Eyes squeezing shut when her middle finger followed along. The pad curling and she pumped it tirelessly.

Her tongue was relentless, working against you in all the ways that had your eyes rolling back, arching and writhing in her grip that was bruising your skin. She was going to show you just what happens when you get too smart with her, too mouthy.

“Thaaattt’s it, baby, let it out for me. Wanna hear you get loud.”

She could hear your breathing getting heavy, your words coming out in soft pants. Babbling out apologies when she would smack an occasional love tap to the fat of your ass. She wasn’t stopping, not until she got you to scream for her.

She didn’t let up on the constant sucking and pressure on your clit. She wanted you to moan and shout her name so loudly she’d have to put a hand over your mouth. She wanted to hear you say you were hers and only hers. 

Her tongue against your skin felt nearly sinful; the things she was doing were nearly too much. and she wasn’t stopping anytime soon. not when you were moaning and arching into her. not when you were biting back loud whimpers. She was going to keep going until she’d made her point, made sure you would behave. Her pink muscle filling the room with smacking sounds and your whines for her to not stop.

It sent jolts of pleasure through your body. Her movements were urgent now, her intent clear. She wanted to push you over the edge. your hands bunched at your shared blankets, in a struggled attempt to steady yourself. You didn’t realize how much you missed moments like these until now, back arched and head heavy as your brain fogged. The only thing on it was wanting more, more, god please more.

With a loud cry you bounced your ass backwards as you chased your high. Forcing her finger deeper, god you just wanted more but knew you weren’t in a position to ask so you made due.

Every nerve in your body was on fire, that coil in your lower belly beginning to snap.

A small hiss left her throat feeling you bury her deeper into your cunt. Feeling drunk off your sounds and need. She could feel your body moving against as you tried to keep it under control. "That's right, baby," she murmured into your skin. Curling them inside to hit your spot; causing your head to fall back and moans escape your mouth.

You could barely hear her over yourself but it was enough to have you coating her fingers in your release sooner than you expected, your orgasm washing over you.

Your hips fell flat against the mattress, the tension in your body unraveling all at once. The rustle of her releasing your legs barely registered in your haze, the world around you distant and blurred. Your limbs felt weightless, boneless, a warm numbness spreading from your core outward. Your breath came in slow, uneven waves against the soft white pillow, your cheek molding into the fabric, damp with heat.

Your heartbeat still thundered in your chest, pulsing in your fingertips, your skin alive with the aftershocks that rolled through you in lazy ripples. You heard her silky voice whisper something along with your bedside table's soft click, but you weren’t sure what it was until you were a little spooked by the sudden weight dipping into the mattress next to you. 

You went to curl next to her only to be pulled over. You let out a weak chuckle and scooted to straddle her hips. Only to have your eyes snap open at the sudden push of silicone into your still pulsating heat. Causing your hips to buck into the feeling. 

“F-Fuck! Abby—Jesus” Followed by a SMACK on your hip, as you shuddered and sunk down onto the toy as far as you could.

“Uh unt, you don’t get to whine right now” “still got a lot of apologizing to do”

One hand gripped your hip to keep you in place, the other slowly rubbing your clit in messy circles. Your skin felt like fire as her hands roamed your body. Abby jerks up, letting the rest of her inches sink inside you. A small groan falling from her lips when the base of her strap adds pressure from your weight striking her clit. The dim light from the bedside lamp glowing softly on her features, the sight alone had you biting your lip. 

Her Hairsprayed out on the pillow underneath her, eyes half-lidded as she feels out the lines and dips of your body. You had only been on a top a few times; she wanted you to work for it. Usually she’d fuck you until you were one with the mattress, but the conversation from earlier still lingered in the air. In the hottest way possible.

You didn’t need her to tell you what to do, thighs brushing the skin of her waist as you guided yourself along the veiny length. It felt so deep inside of you that you were practically melting together.

“That’s it, honey, k-keep god—Fuckin' me like you mean it.” she brings her firm grip up to your waist to help you add to the sweet rocking, causing her to tilt her head further back. Your rhythm steadies, the bounce of your hips sending Abby into soft grunts. 

Her fingertips left your back, moving back down to your hips to steady herself and guide your rocking faster. 

“Yes, juuust like that,” she whispered, shifting underneath so she was a deep as possible. The repetitive sound of the skin of her pelvis meeting yours over and over filled the room to the brim. Her praises mingling with her low moans and your breathy pants. 

Hearing you respond, seeing how you looked, feeling your body against hers was sending her brain into overdrive. You looked good, sounded good, and felt even better. She continued moving, her breath coming out in sharp pants.

She let out a little groan at the feeling, her head falling back a bit. She pulled your hair slightly, exposing your neck and back arching further into her view. one hand moving from your hip to your back, nails raking against your skin. She could feel you trembling, and she knew you wouldn’t last much longer, though, she wasn’t far behind either. Feeling heat pool in your lower belly, you lifted your hips higher with each bounce. A slight tingling in your toes as the strap kissed all the right spots of your gushing walls. 

She let out a low gasp when you pressed your hands against her chest, the desperation clear as day in the way you sunk down. It only caused her to move a little faster, the sound of the headboard creaking against the wall filling her ears and egging her on. Her hand in your hair pulled a little bit harder this time, the other moving to your hip again to steady herself.

She groaned at the feeling, watching as you tried to move as well, trying to keep the pace. She gripped your hips a bit tighter, her nails digging into your skin a little.

“You look so pretty.” She managed between pants, “You sound even better too, mm—gonna remember this every time you get mouthy with me, yeah?” 

All you could do was a head nod, feeling the tight coil in your lower belly snap along with a choked out whimper

Yes you definitely would

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[enwoso]

Can you maybe write a keira walsh angst fic where reader is her girlfriend and they have opposite schedules for a few weeks maybe keira has England camp and when she came back reader has a work trip and they are just upset they haven't been able to spend time together

OUT OF REACH | keira walsh

masterlist

keira stood in the doorway of her apartment suitcase still in hand and sighed. the quiet was deafening. no scent of a home cooked dinner, no music playing in the background and most crushing of all, no you.

her eyes scanned the familiar space, her heart sinking just that little lower with each step she took further inside. it wasn’t the first time she’d come back to an empty home recently but with each time it happened it didn’t seem to make it any easier.

the past few weeks has been an endless cycle of missed calls and unanswered texts. england camp had demanded every ounce of her energy and the difference in schedules between the two of you made connecting with each other nearly impossible.

whenever she’d finally found a spare minute to call you, you’d be swamped with your own work. each conversation felt rushed and like it was an obligation instead of the comfort she so desperately needed and wanted.

as she dropped her suitcase near the door, her movements heavy with frustration and fatigue. the silence of the apartment felt oppressive and a stark contrast to the notice in her head.

the note you’d left on the kitchen counter caught her eye and she picked it up with trembling hands.

‘kie, i’m so sorry we keep missing each other. another work trip came up last minute. i’ll can you when i can. i love you, always. and don’t forget to eat something decent, okay? - y/n’

setting the note down carefully, her chest tightening as she leaned against the counter. the words were kind, loving even but they weren’t enough.

nothing felt like enough right now - not your reassurances, not her efforts to stay positive. the distance between you wasn’t just physical anymore.

keira sank into the couch, staring blankly at the wall as she replayed the last few weeks in her mind, every missed moment and stilted conversation. the ache in her chest grew sharper with each memory.

—

when you finally called a few days later, keira didn’t answer right away. her phone vibrated on the coffe table as she stared at your name on the screen. it took three full rings before she moved to pick it up.

“hi,” she said her voice low and flat as she sunk back into the couch as your bright smile dropped almost immediately at your girlfriends moody demeanour.

“kei?,” you said softly you voice carrying a mix of warmth and hesitation as you chose your next words very carefully. “you okay?”

“fine.” she replied curtly. it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t bring herself to open up not after weeks of feeling like she was always the one holding on while you drifted further away from her.

a heavy silence settled between you, broken only by the faint sounds of staff wandering past as you stood outside the conference room having a fifteen minute break.

“baby, talk to me.” you finally said, you tone gentle but firm.

she let out a cruel bitter laugh as she ran a hand through her hair, “what’s there to say? your not here and i’m just.. tired.”

“tired? tired of what?” you asked cautiously as you looked around everyone wandering back into the room where you were holding the conference as you wandered to a quieter place in the building, finding a seat on a ridiculously bright green chair which unfortunately matched the walls.

“of this,” keira snapped, her voice rising slightly. “of coming home to an empty apartment. of weeks of not seeing you, of hardly talking. of feeling like i’m the only one who-“

she cut herself off, biting down on the words that were on the tip of her tongue as they almost spilled out. she didn’t want to say it. she didn’t want to admit just how lonely she felt, how much she questioned whether you still cared as much as she did.

“like your the only one who what?” you pressed, your voice trembling slightly as your eyebrows knitted together.

keira closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. but the dam had already broken. "like i'm only one who is trying!" she burst out as her eyes bubbled with tears. "it's just so hard now, your always working, always gone when i come home and then i'm just.. here. alone"

her words hung in the air, raw and heavy. on the other end of the line you were silent for a moment, long enough that keira had started to regret saying anything at all.

"and you think this is all so easy for me?" you said quietly, your voice laced with hurt, hurt that she would even think of anything like this. "you really think i like being away from you? that i don't miss you every second of every day?"

keira opened her mouth to respond but you didn't let her, didn't give her the chance.

"i'm doing my best here, kei. i don't know what else you want from me," you continued, your voice breaking. "you know i'm trying to run a business. im exhasted and all i want is to be in your arms and i thought you understood this"

the pain in your voice cut through the girl like a knife, keira swallowed hard, her tears stinging her eyes, "i do understand as i know your always understanding of my schedule" she said her voice cracking. "but that doesnt make it any easier. i just.. i miss you, y/n so much and every time i finally get a chance to breath you're not here. and i know it's not your fault but it still hurts"

your sigh comes through the line, heavy with exhaustion and emotion, "it hurts me too kei," you said softly, trying your best to control your breathing, "but we can't keep doing this. we can't keep hurting each other like this. if we don't figure this out.."

you didn't finish you sentence, but the unspoken words hung between you. keira's breath hitched as the weight of it all pressed down leaving an uncomfortable heavy feeling in her chest.

"i don't want to lose you," she said, barely audible.

"and i don't want to lose you." you replied, "but something has to change. keira, we need to find a way to make this work cause i can't feeling like i'm failing you."

keira wiped at her eyes, her heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. "i don't know how to fix this," she admitted.

"we'll figure it out." you said, your tone firm despite the sadness in it. "and the first step is with me coming home, tomorrow."

keira nodded along, even though you couldn't see her the words not fully processing in her head for a couple of seconds, "ok- wait no you have to finish the con-"

"no, kei. i'm coming home tomorrow morning. the conference can wait. my girl needs me. and plus whose gonna stop me, cause last time i checked i was in charge." you let a small giggle as keira hummed before mumbling an 'i love you' as you did the same thing

"i'll see you tomorrow morning, my love"

the call soon ended after, keira sat in the quiet apartment once more, the weight of your word lingering but this time she felt a little lighter knowing by this time tomorrow you'd be back in her arms again.

and true to your words, you walked through the door - well you got two steps into the apartment before keira was engulfing you in a tight hug. and while it didn't erase the pain or the distance of the past few weeks, it was a start and in the right direction. a promise to keep fighting for each other, even when it hurt and seemed out of reach.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ━━ Ski Trip

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 4.8K

❀ ━ warnings: i don’t think any actually

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: i lowkey hate this chapter and i feel like i didn’t make it meaningful enough but im not rewriting it so here yall go BIG STUFF COMING NEXT CHAP THO

IT’S DECEMBER 20TH, and Paige has been procrastinating on packing all day, though she’s hyper-aware of her flight to Maryland tomorrow evening after their game. The plan was simple. She’d spend Christmas with her dad and Drew like she always did when her mom’s side of the family had something else going on. This year, it was a beach trip to the Bahamas—Ryan and Lauren had begged for it after they didn’t get a summer vacation, and even though her mom had hated the idea of leaving Paige out, she’d caved.

“It’s just this one year,” her mom had told her over the phone a couple of weeks ago, sounding guilty. “Next year, we’ll all do something together, I promise.”

Paige had told her it was fine, and it had been. It wasn’t like her mom had planned it that way, and besides, Paige had been looking forward to some quality time with her dad and Drew.

But now, as she sits at the small table in her and Jo’s apartment, her phone pressed to her ear, that plan is crumbling right in front of her.

Her dad coughs—again—and Paige frowns at the sound of it. “I’m telling you, P, it’s bad,” he says, his voice raspy and hoarse. “It’s not like Drew and I have a cold, it’s bronchitis. We’re super contagious, and the last thing I want is for you to get sick, too. You’d bring it back to the team, and…” He trails off, but Paige knows exactly what he’s thinking.

If she brought bronchitis back to Storrs, it would be a disaster. Paige knows how quickly that would spread through them, because they’re always around each other. One sick player turns into three, and suddenly half the roster is on the bench. Which would be bad—because half their roster already is on the bench.

Still, it doesn’t make her feel any better. She swallows the lump forming in her throat and forces her voice to sound steady, even though the frustration is bubbling underneath. “I get it, Dad. It’s just…” She sighs, rubbing a hand across her face. “It’s Christmas. I wanted to see you guys.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” her dad says, and he really does sound it. “If there was any way to make it work, I’d tell you to come, but I can’t let you risk it. You’re not just my kid—you’re, like, a national treasure. Even with a busted knee. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than hanging out with your sick old man and your germy little brother.” He tries to laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit.

When it finally passes, he speaks again, softer this time. “Look, I hate this. You know I do. But maybe it’s better this way. You don’t want to get sick, and I don’t want you here with me and Drew, bored out of your mind while we sit around coughing our lungs out. You should spend Christmas somewhere fun. I’m sure at least one of the girls will still be around campus, right?”

Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that everyone is going home for the holidays. Azzi’s flight to Virginia is tomorrow, and Caroline’s driving back to Massachusetts the next day. Ice is already gone, Geno allowing it since she can’t even play in tomorrow’s game. And it’s not like Paige can crash at the homes of her coaches or staff, either. She’ll be here. Alone.

“Yeah, maybe,” she lies instead. “Don’t worry about me, ’kay Just take care of yourself and Drew. I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

Her dad sighs, and for a second time, the line goes quiet. “I’m sorry, P,” he says again, and there’s a tiredness in his voice that makes her feel guilty for even being upset. “We’ll FaceTime you on Christmas morning. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she mumbles. “Tell Drew I said hi. And Merry Christmas.”

“I will.”

She barely gets out a goodbye before hanging up, and the moment the call disconnects, Paige puts her head in her hands, elbows resting on the table.

It’s not like she doesn’t understand. Her dad is right—going to Maryland would be a bad idea. But knowing that doesn’t make it easier. She’s supposed to be with her family for Christmas.

But now? She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. It’s not like she can book a flight to the Bahamas to be with her mom’s family.

So what does that leave? Staying on campus by herself? Wandering around Storrs in the freezing cold while the rest of her teammates celebrate with their families?

The thought puts a pit in her stomach, and she presses her palms harder against her face, as if that’ll somehow stop the wave of sadness crashing against her. She knows it’s not the end of the world—she’s an adult; she’ll survive—but it’s been a hard year, and she wanted to end it with her family beside her.

Suddenly, pair of warm and familiar arms drape loosely around Paige’s neck, startling her. She exhales sharply, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. She can feel Jo’s chin resting lightly on her shoulder, her breath warm against Paige’s cheek. Jo doesn’t seem to notice the way Paige tenses under her touch or how Paige’s stomach twists itself into knots.

“What’s up? Why’re you all sad?” Jo asks, her voice soft but still edged with that usual playful lilt that makes it hard to tell if she’s being entirely serious.

Paige swallows hard and keeps her gaze forward. Her fingers drum nervously against the table. “My dad and Drew are sick, so they’re not letting me come home,” she admits quietly, her voice tighter than she means for it to be. “I’mma be here all alone for Christmas.”

Jo pulls away abruptly, and Paige instantly misses the warmth of her arms. When she looks up, Jo’s eyes are searching hers, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Wait, you’re not going to Maryland?” Jo asks, like she hasn’t just heard Paige say it.

Paige shakes her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “Nope,” she confirms, a little bitterly, popping the p.

Jo stares at her, unblinking, like she’s trying to solve a puzzle in her head. Then something shifts in her expression, and Paige can see it—the exact moment Jo’s brain kicks into overdrive. A slow grin spreads across Jo’s face, and her eyes brighten like she’s just come up with the best idea in the world. Paige feels herself get curios, because she knows Jo well enough to know that this particular look means she’s about to be dragged into something.

“Wait, no,” Jo says, her voice rising in excitement as she straightens up. “It’s fine. You’re not gonna be here alone.”

Paige frowns, confused. “What?”

But Jo’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet now, her excitement infectious even though Paige has no idea what she’s getting at. “Oh my god, wait! This is perfect. Peyton’s fiancée is sick, too, so he’s not coming on our ski trip like he was supposed to. Come with my family! It’ll be fun! We can snowboard together!”

Paige blinks, her mind spinning as she tries to process what Jo just said. A ski trip? With Jo’s family? The idea sounds… nice, but also terrifying. Sure, she’s met most of Jo’s family before, but that was before she realized she was completely, helplessly in love with her. Being around them now, with Jo acting all warm and familiar, feels like it might be too much.

“Jo,” Paige says slowly, trying to let the younger girl down gently. “I can’t. I don’t wanna intrude—”

Jo cuts her off with an exaggerated deadpan look. “I love you.”

The words hit Paige like a punch to the chest. Her brain freezes for a split second, and she knows she’s staring at Jo like an idiot. Of course, Jo doesn’t mean it like that—she never does—but it doesn’t stop Paige’s heart from stuttering in her chest.

“So my family loves you, too,” Jo continues like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’ll be fun. You’re not intruding on anybody. Besides, if you wanna feel all guilty about it, then you can pay me back by driving us up there so I don’t have to.”

Paige narrows her eyes at that. “Wait. You were gonna drive up there?”

Jo shrugs casually, as if her driving isn’t an actual safety hazard. “Yeah.”

Paige groans, dragging a hand down her face. “God, now I have to go,” she mutters, half to herself. Jo tilts her head in confusion, so Paige adds, “I can’t let you drive all the way up there. You’re, like, the worst driver I’ve ever met.”

Jo gasps in mock offense, clutching her chest dramatically. “Wow. First of all, rude. Second of all, I’ve only almost killed us, like, twice.”

“Three times,” Paige corrects, unable to stop the small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Whatever,” Jo says, waving her hand dismissively. “Point is, you’re coming, and we’re gonna have the best time ever. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Paige sighs, knowing she’s already lost this battle. The truth is, the idea of spending Christmas with Jo doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, it sounds kind of amazing, even if the thought of being around her family makes her a little nervous. “Okay,” she says reluctantly, pretending to sound annoyed even though she’s not.

Jo grins triumphantly before squealing, planting a quick, friendly kiss on Paige’s temple.

Paige tries to ignore the way her heart skyrockets at that. This ski trip might be the death of her.

JO STRETCHES her legs out as much as she can in the passenger seat, knees knocking lightly against the glove compartment. Her fingers drum idly against the screen of her phone as she scrolls through her playlists, searching. It’s the 22nd, and they’re only about a half-hour into the three-hour trip to the ski resort in New York where she’ll spend Christmas with her family—and, now, with Paige too.

Paige is driving, looking entirely too focused on the road. Jo leans over just slightly, flipping through songs before finally landing on what feels like the obvious choice: Harry Styles. The opening notes of Golden start to play through the speakers, and Jo immediately starts singing along, drumming the rhythm against her thighs.

Paige groans from the driver’s seat, her tone exasperated. “Nooooo,” she complains like a child, scrunching her face at the sound of the music.

Jo rolls her eyes and lightly swats Paige’s arm. “Don’t disrespect him!” she scolds. “That’s my man.”

Paige glances over at her with one of those fond, half-annoyed smiles Jo’s grown so used to over the years. She rolls her eyes again, but at least she doesn’t change the song. Jo smirks to herself, victorious, as she turns up the volume a little.

The snow-covered scenery passes by in a blur, the outside world feeling far away and muted. It’s just her and Paige now, and Jo finds herself relaxing more and more as the car hums along the quiet highway. Eventually, Paige seems to stop pretending she hates the music. She starts humming softly under her breath—off-key, of course, but Jo thinks it’s charming.

As the minutes tick by, the conversation between them slows, and the silence stretches. But it’s not awkward—it rarely ever is with Paige. Jo lets herself sink into it, leaning her head against the window and watching the world go by. Snow blankets the ground and clings to the branches of trees, glittering under the pale sunlight. It’s all so pretty, and Jo feels a swell of contentment in her chest.

She’s excited about this trip, and not just because she loves Christmas or snowboarding or even the cozy cabin her family rents almost every year. No, this year is different. This year, Paige is coming, and that thought alone makes her feel like a kid on Christmas morning. Jo can’t quite explain it, but something about the idea of spending the holiday with Paige—and all of her favorite people at once—fills her with an almost overwhelming kind of joy.

She loves Paige. The words flash in her head so casually that it takes her a second to realize what she’s just thought. Jo blinks, staring out at the endless stretch of snow-covered ground, and suddenly feels… weird. Not in a bad way. Just weird.

It’s not like she hasn’t thought—or said—those words before. She’s told Paige she loves her plenty of times, always with that same casual confidence that comes with a close friendship. But for some reason, the words feel different now, like they’re tugging at something deeper inside her, a part of her brain she hadn’t noticed before. She frowns slightly, her breath fogging the window as she shifts in her seat.

Curious, almost cautious, Jo glances over at Paige. Paige looks good. The thought slips into Jo’s mind unbidden. Her gaze lingers—too long, maybe—on Paige’s profile. Her slicked-back bun reveals her sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones, and her skin glows softly under the light reflecting off the snow. Her blue eyes—they look so blue right now—stay locked on the road, narrowed ever so slightly in focus. Even her hands, gripping the steering wheel with casual ease, look… nice? The rings on her fingers catch the light, glinting softly, and Jo feels her stomach do this weird, fluttery thing she can’t quite explain.

Jesus, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her right now.

She’s staring, she knows she’s staring, but she can’t seem to stop herself. Paige shifts slightly in her seat, and Jo’s eyes dart back to the window like she’s been caught red-handed.

“Enjoying the view?” Paige’s voice cuts through Jo’s thoughts, low and teasing, and Jo jerks her head back around.

Paige is smirking at her now, one brow raised as she steals a glance her way before refocusing on the road. Jo’s face flushes, heat prickling at the back of her neck, and she scrambles for something to say.

“Shut up,” Jo mutters instead, weakly, before lightly swatting Paige’s arm again. Paige just laughs, the sound low and easy and too pretty for Jo’s liking.

Jo turns back to the window, trying to ignore the way her heart is racing in her chest. She shouldn’t feel this weird. This is Paige. She’s never felt strange like this around her before. So why is it happening now?

Her reflection stares back at her in the window, her expression unreadable. She doesn’t have an answer, but the question lingers in her mind, gnawing at her as the scenery blurs by.

THE CAR creaks to a stop, tires crunching on the gravel driveway, and Paige cuts the engine. Her hands rest on the steering wheel for a second too long as she stares at the cabin in front of them. It’s huge, with rustic wooden beams and wide windows that glint in the soft afternoon sunlight. Against the backdrop of snow-covered trees and a looming mountain, the place looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.

Not for the first time, Paige wonders just how much money Jo’s family actually has. She exhales softly, glancing over at Jo, who’s already unbuckling her seatbelt and muttering something about how cold it looks outside.

“Ready?” Jo asks, grinning as she swings the passenger door open. She doesn’t wait for Paige to answer before stepping out, boots crunching in the snow.

Paige follows, shivering as the cold air hits her. They make their way to the trunk, pulling out their luggage and the carefully wrapped presents. Paige grabs her suitcase and Jo’s backpack, while Jo hefts a duffel bag and a stack of gifts precariously balanced in her arms.

As they start up the snow-dusted path to the cabin, Paige feels a knot of nerves twist low in her stomach. She’s been around Jo’s family before—met her parents briefly, spent an afternoon with her little sister Mia—but this is different. A whole four days with them, at Christmas no less, feels more a lot closer. It makes her jittery.

The knot tightens as they get closer to the door. Paige’s boots crunch loudly in the quiet, the sound almost distracting enough to drown out her thoughts. Almost. She glances at Jo, who seems completely at ease, her face lighting up as she takes in the cabin and the familiar setting. Jo doesn’t seem nervous at all. There’s no reason for her to be, really. Paige wishes she could say the same.

Before they even reach the porch, the front door bursts open.

“Mia—” comes a faint voice from inside, but it’s already too late.

Jo’s little sister Mia comes charging out of the cabin, her boots slipping slightly on the snow but her momentum unstoppable. “You guys took so long!” she yells, her voice high and dramatic in the way Paige remembers. “We thought you got into a car accident and died!”

Jo snorts, her face splitting into a grin. “That was your theory?” she asks incredulously.

“It’s not a theory, it’s a possibility!” Mia shouts back, skidding to a stop in front of them. She looks up at Paige, her wide brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hi, Paige,” she says, her tone immediately softening into something warmer. “Do you remember me?”

Paige crouches slightly, balancing Jo’s backpack on her knee as she smiles at Mia. “Of course I remember you, Mimi,” she says. “How could I forget?”

Mia beams, and Paige can’t help but smile back. She liked Mia the first time she met her, and apparently the feeling was mutual, because Mia immediately latches onto her hand like they’re best friends. Jo groans beside her.

“You’re not allowed to replace me with Paige,” Jo says, her voice dry. “I’m your sister, remember?”

Mia rolls her eyes, an action so similar to Jo’s that it makes Paige laugh. Before Jo can retaliate, another voice cuts through the chilly air.

“Mia, you are such a menace,” says a woman stepping out onto the porch, pulling a jacket on. She’s tall and thin, with sleek dark hair pulled into a ponytail. Paige recognizes her immediately—Peyton, Jo’s older sister. The one who dances in New York.

Mia gives Peyton a look, saying, “No, you.”

Peyton doesn’t respond, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the porch railing. She smiles at Jo, saying, “Hey, Joey,” before her eyes land on Paige. She nods toward her, her smirk softening into something friendlier. “Hi, Paige. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Paige’s stomach flips slightly at the wording. “Nothing bad, I hope,” she says, sending Jo a look before turning back to Peyton. “Nice to meet you.”

Peyton raises an eyebrow, glancing at Jo like she’s amused by something. Jo pointedly ignores her, busying herself with readjusting the presents in her arms. Before Paige can think too much about it, Jo’s parents appear in the doorway, their voices warm and welcoming as they call out greetings.

The knot in Paige’s stomach starts to loosen as Jo’s mom pulls her into a quick, affectionate hug, and her dad shakes her hand firmly. They’re warm, easygoing, and clearly thrilled to have her here. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and by the time they’re all inside the cabin, surrounded by the crackle of a fire and the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen, Paige feels the last of her nerves melt away.

She might have been nervous about intruding, but now, as Jo’s family laughs and chatters around her, Paige thinks this is exactly what Christmas is supposed to feel like.

IT’S LATE, and the house is quiet now. Jo likes it—the silent hum of her family settling into their rooms, the muffled crackle of the fireplace in the living room below. But mostly, she likes the way it feels to be here, with Paige.

The bathroom is small and warm, steam still lingering in the air from earlier showers. Jo leans over the counter, squeezing a dollop of black face mask onto her fingers. Paige mirrors her on the other side of the sink, her blonde hair still pulled back in its bun, loose strands framing her face. Jo’s been hyper-aware of her all day. It’s not like anything new has even happened, so she doesn’t know why things suddenly feel different. But it does. It’s like everything Paige does—the way she laughs, the way her blue eyes catch the light, the way her fingers brushed Jo’s earlier while stealing a cookie from the baking tray—feels sharper, louder, harder to ignore. Almost like a switch has been turned on in Jo’s head.

“Okay, hold still,” Jo says, stepping closer. Paige tilts her head downward slightly, her blue eyes locking on Jo’s, and Jo tries not to notice how close they are. She smears a stripe of the black mask across Paige’s cheekbone, biting back a grin when Paige wrinkles her nose.

“You’re being so aggressive about it,” Paige says, her voice teasing. She dips her fingers into her own little bowl of the mask and smears a line down Jo’s nose in retaliation.

Jo huffs, rolling her eyes even as her lips twitch into a grin. She swipes another streak across Paige’s forehead, her fingers lingering against her skin. It’s such a small, fleeting thing, but it feels like electricity sparking up Jo’s arm. She pulls her hand back quickly, hoping Paige doesn’t notice how her breath catches.

Paige’s lips quirk, but she doesn’t say anything. She just smears another bit of the mask across Jo’s jaw, her hand steady and confident like she always is. “You’re a terrible client,” Paige mutters, her voice dry but soft, her blue eyes flicking briefly to Jo’s. And Jo, again, feels that strange, sharp awareness settle over her. She doesn’t get it. This isn’t new. It’s not like she hasn’t been this close to Paige before—hell, she and Paige cuddle in the same bed nearly every night.

But today, it’s like her brain has decided that Paige is a little too much. Too pretty. Too funny. Too… Paige. Jo doesn’t know what to do with it, so she keeps quiet, keeps working on the mask, hoping the feeling will pass. It doesn’t.

She steps back slightly, assessing her work, and Paige tilts her head again, clearly trying to get a good look at herself in the mirror behind Jo. Her smile is gummy, and Jo’s chest squeezes in a way that feels alarmingly foreign. It’s fine. This is fine.

“You look kinda funny,” Paige tells her.

Jo rolls her eyes. “No, you look funny.”

“You both look funny,” a new voice says.

Jo looks toward the bathroom door and nearly groans out loud. Mia is standing there, leaning against the frame with her hands on her hips. Her hair is braided, and she’s wearing pink pajamas with unicorns on them. Jo loves her sister, but Mia has the uncanny ability to show up at the exact wrong time. Every time.

Jo watches as Paige grins at Mia, her eyes sparkling under the harsh bathroom lights. Paige’s hand reaches out, steady and sure, wrapping easily around Mia’s small wrist as she pulls her closer. “Come look funny with us,” Paige says, her voice teasing but warm, and somehow, Mia lets her. Mia—who has never warmed up to anyone outside of their family as quickly as she has with Paige—lets her.

Jo leans against the sink, arms crossed over her chest, observing the way Paige lifts Mia effortlessly onto the counter. It shouldn’t be surprising by now—Paige’s knack for fitting in, for making herself comfortable in any room, any space. But it is surprising. Jo doesn’t understand how Paige has done it, how she’s managed to turn Mia into a giggling puddle of affection when Jo can barely get her little sister to listen most days.

It shouldn’t bug her. It shouldn’t make her chest ache the way it does, seeing Paige there, standing so close to her family, fitting into the picture like she belongs in it. Like she’s been in it all along. Jo feels something twist in her stomach as Paige dips her fingers into the little bowl of face mask and dabs some of the black paste onto Mia’s nose, grinning when Mia squeals. It’s like watching someone carve their name into a tree that’s already been there for years. Permanent. Unshakable.

Jo’s heart stutters, and she doesn’t know why.

“Okay, okay, hold still,” Paige says, laughing as Mia squirms. Jo’s still leaning against the counter, arms crossed a little too tight against her chest, trying to ignore how soft Paige’s voice is, how easy she makes it look—being good with kids, being good with Mia.

Paige looks over her shoulder at Jo and grins. “You gonna stand there the whole time, or are you gonna help me?”

Jo doesn’t trust herself to say anything, not with the way her throat feels tight all of a sudden. She pushes off the counter and grabs the bowl from Paige’s hand, stepping closer. The three of them are a little crowded now, Paige and Jo standing shoulder to shoulder, Mia giggling in the middle of it all. Jo’s hyper-aware of how Paige’s arm brushes against hers every time she moves, how Paige’s perfume—subtle and familiar—lingers in the small space between them.

Jo focuses on the task, smearing the face mask carefully across Mia’s cheeks. “Stay still, Mimi,” she mutters, but her voice is softer than usual, her irritation dulled. Mia grins at her, like she knows Jo can’t ever stay mad at her for long. Paige snickers next to her, and Jo doesn’t need to look to know there’s a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Aight, done,” Paige says, stepping back slightly to admire their work. Mia beams at her reflection in the mirror, her face covered in streaky black paste. Jo sets the bowl down, already turning back to the sink, when she catches it—the look Paige and Mia share. Mischievous. Almost conspiratorial.

“Don’t,” Jo says, narrowing her eyes at them, but it’s too late. Mia’s already scooping some of the mask onto her tiny fingers, and Paige follows suit, dipping her own hand back into the bowl. Before Jo can move, they both strike.

“Guys!” Jo exclaims as they swipe the cold, sticky paste across her lips, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls. She wipes at her mouth furiously, glaring at them both. “It’s not supposed to go on the lips!”

“Sorry, Joey,” Mia giggles, and Jo groans at the sound of it. She hates when Mia calls her that, hates when most of her family does. Though, she has to admit, it is better than JoJo.

But then Paige says it. “Yeah, sorry, Joey,” Paige echoes, her tone dripping with mock sincerity, her lips curled into a grin. And it’s different. It hits Jo differently, like a warm gust of wind cutting through the chill. The way Paige says hasn’t ever made her cringe. It’s never annoyed her. Instead, it makes her heart trip over itself, stumbling into something that feels suspiciously like want.

Jo stills, her hand still pressed against her lips, her brain suddenly moving too fast and too slow at the same time. Paige’s grin softens slightly as she steps back, wiping her own fingers clean on a towel, completely oblivious to the way Jo’s entire world is starting to tilt off its axis.

Jo can’t stop the thought that rises, unbidden and unwelcome. I like the way she says my name.

And then, like a sudden slap to the face, the truth hits her. It doesn’t creep in. It doesn’t build slowly. It slams into her all at once, leaving no room for doubt or denial.

She likes Paige.

Her chest tightens, and she almost feels like she can’t breathe. Oh my God. She likes Paige. Not just as a friend. Not just as her teammate or her roommate. She likes her in a way she never, ever thought she would.

It’s the kind of realization that knocks everything out of focus, that makes her head spin. Because this isn’t just some fleeting, surface-level thing. It’s not a crush she can shrug off. It’s Paige. And it feels like the ground under her feet has cracked wide open.

It doesn’t make any sense to her. She’s always thought she’s straight. She’s never even entertained the idea of liking girls. She always had Asher, and even though they’re broken up now, that wound is still fresh.

But the realization is there, and it’s as real as anything else. She likes Paige.

Jo glances at Paige out of the corner of her eye, half hoping that maybe she’ll catch on, that she’ll notice something’s wrong and say something stupid or reassuring or Paige-like. But Paige is just there, wiping Mia’s hands with a towel, laughing softly at whatever Mia just said, completely unaware that Jo is facing one of the most startling realizations of her life.

And Jo? Jo is completely, utterly fucked.

[writer-with-jazz]

Bad nights (part two)

A/N: hi everyone!! Bad night was the first ever fix I posted and I am very glad everyone liked it so much!! I wasn’t expecting more than 20 likes? But this is crazy and I am overjoyed! This took me a lil while since I started working on this request I got which is a very interesting idea, but thank you sm <333

p.s: I reread this 3 times and used grammars for spelling mistakes if there are still any, do tell me!

Summary: Remus got clingy cuz of the full moon, James lost a match, Sirius has problems with his parents and you aren’t well. How Will this situation turn out?

Read bad nights part one, here

The tension in the room only deepened after Remus pulled back, He was always the calm one, the one who understood the unspoken language of their relations, but today, with every emotion piling up, even he was slipping.

You could feel the heat from his body as he stepped away from you, the silence hanging in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Your stomach churned in response, both from the physical ache and the emotional weight of everything around you.

James finally broke the silence, though his voice was very much with frustration. "I get it, Sirius," he said, barely holding back the anger in his tone. "You’re upset, and I’m upset, but don’t act like you have it all figured out." His hand clenched into a fist by his side. "This—this whole thing—it’s not just about losing a match, alright? It’s about everything. Every bloody thing that's been piling up lately." He paused, glancing at you as though the weight of his next words was too much to carry alone. "It’s about her. About how she’s always there for all of you, and… I can’t even seem to be enough for her."

Your heart squeezed at his words, but before you could say anything, Sirius snapped. "Enough? Enough? What about me, huh?" His voice cracked an that made your chest tighten. "I’ve been fighting off my mother’s poison for years, I’m constantly keeping my own demons at bay, and I’m the one who gets left behind! She’s always there for you, James, and for you, Remus. Always comforting you, holding you up, and I’m just… just here, trying to keep my head above water." His face was twisted in anguish, eyes wild. "And all I get is the scraps—the leftovers."

"That’s not fair!" Remus’s voice was raw, , "You think I want to cling to her like this? You think I’m not aware of everything she does for me? But I need her, Sirius. I’m barely holding it together after last night—" His voice wavered, and you saw the raw hurt in his eyes as he turned to you for comfort once more, even as he fought back his own tears. "I’m not asking for more than what she can give. I’m just asking for her to be there when I can’t be there for myself."

Sirius's glare softened for a split second before he snapped again, his frustration morphing into something darker. "Yeah, well, we all need her, don’t we?" he spat. "But it’s always you, Remus. It’s always you who gets the comfort, who gets the attention. And I’m just supposed to wait in the damn hard moments , pretending I’m fine when I’m falling apart inside." He was pacing now, his voice rising with every step. "I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when she’s the one holding everyone else together."

The words hit harder than anything you could have prepared for, and it was like a pressure released in the room. You knew he didn’t mean it like that. You knew he wasn’t blaming you specifically, but the weight of it settled over you like a suffocating wall. You wanted to shout at him, to tell him that you weren’t some object to be fought over, that you couldn’t be everything to everyone, but the words wouldn’t come.

"You think I’m okay?" James's voice cut through, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and hurt. "I’m the bloody Quidditch captain! I’m supposed to lead everyone, make everything perfect, and now I can’t even—" He stopped, voice cracking, fists clenched at his sides, looking away from both of you as if his words were too much to handle. "I’m so sick of failing."

s. That broken crack in James that you had never seen before. You wanted to walk over, to hold him, to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but as soon as you moved, Remus took a step toward you, his eyes pleading, like he was afraid to lose you in all this madness. and Sirius’s hurt eyes, his unspoken plea, were just as raw.

But your body was betraying you. The nausea was getting worse, and the headache was growing more unbearable. You couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Stop,” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady as you stood between them, your hand resting on your stomach. "Stop. All of you. I… I can't do this anymore."

The room went silent, and for a moment, everything stopped.

You felt tears pricking at the edges of your eyes, but you held them back. "I’m trying so hard for all of you. I can’t be everything. I can’t be the one you all lean on all the time." Your voice was shaky, but you pushed through it. "I… I’m struggling too. Do you not see that? I’mtrying, I’m hurting, and no one’s even asking if I’m okay. All I do is try to hold everyone else together, and no one sees it until I’m falling apart. I just… I need… I need a break."

You didn’t give them time to respond, didn’t let them apologize or tell you it was fine. You turned on your heel and walked away

But in the quiet, as the seconds passed, you realized something. You weren’t the only one struggling,It was time for them to see that.

And you weren’t sure if that would make them love you less, or more.

alright so I think part three will be out more soon and will be the final part!!!!

taglist: @almostjollypizza @setayeshmohseni @navs-bhat @treefairy-28 @may-madness @ameliaweasley @maysrain @reggieswriter @meowmeowbby @hiireafstuff @flowerytombx @hcqwxrtss123 @unstable-cucumber @aleatorio1234 @penned-musings @plk-18 @iheartpieck @livia7137 @liviessun @eeviee4 @marvelsmarauder @amatoanima @minejungwoo

[juniperskye]

Scars

Based on the following ask: Hi 🤍 I hope your requests are not too full already - but for weeks I‘ve been dreaming about kind of shy Hotch (due to his scars he got from scratch Foyet yn) and I would die to read smut where he is kind of shy at first bc he thinks reader will not find him hot and ahh and she obviously does and they just have the best night eveeeer then bc he finally lets go 🫣 what do you think????? I would dieeeee to read it from you! – Hey lovely, this idea is really sweet, and I am going to keep it on the slow intimate side, I just feel like Aaron opening up about the scars would lead to something slow and passionate…still smut tho!

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Fluff/SMUT

Word count: 691

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, SMUT, mention of Foyet (the stabbing), established relationship with Hotch, explicit language, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than female anatomy, use of pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, anxiety, a little body dysmorphia…let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The door flew open as the lock gave way. Aaron had you pressed against it, lips connected in a passionate kiss. His hands were gripping the hem of your shirt, right where it rested at your waist.

See here’s the thing, Aaron and you had been seeing one another for a few months now. With his job keeping him incredibly busy, you assured him there was no pressure, you’d go on dates and get to know one another when he was in town. That, you were okay with…but what was becoming increasingly frustrating was the fact that you hadn’t had sex yet.

Now, you’d be perfectly fine with taking things slow, only Aaron hasn’t said anything. He instead had just done everything he can to avoid getting in a compromising position with you…but tonight, it seems like that might change.

--

Your shirt was lost somewhere in the entryway along with both of your shoes and Aaron’s coat. His lips had made their way down to where your shoulder and neck met. Aaron was walking behind you, carefully leading you to his bedroom.

As you passed the threshold, Aaron spun you around. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap. He let his lips meet yours once again while you let your hands slide down to the buttons of his dress shirt. After you’d gotten a few open, Aaron grabbed your wrists and froze.

When you pulled back you were met with his pained expression, and even deeper, fear had been written behind it.

You were quick to pull your hands back and step down off of Aaron’s lap.

--

“I’m sorry Aaron. I shouldn’t have.”

“No! Don’t apologize.” Aaron began, hesitantly. “Sweetheart, I need to show you something. Something I have been worried about…which is why I’ve been avoiding this.” He gestured between the two of you.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, Aaron unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor.

“It was a case we were working years ago. The unsub…he had broken into my home, and then this happened.”

A quiet gasp escaped you. Adorning Aaron’s body were nine nearly identical scars. Your gaze met his as you lifted your hand, pulling it back, afraid to upset him. He offered a small nod, grabbing your hand and bringing it to rest on his bare chest. Your fingers danced from one scar to the next, a tear silently making its way down your cheek.

Aaron reached up, wiping it away with his thumb. “What’s wrong honey.” He asked.

“I just can’t believe someone would do this to you.”

Aaron and you shared a quiet moment of understanding. His job was dangerous and sometimes he got hurt because of it, but he came out the other side…with newfound strength each time.

--

You’re not quite sure when the air shifted, but one moment you were sat there holding one another, and the next, you were sharing a heated kiss, attempting to remove the remainder of your clothing.

Once you were both fully stripped, Aaron settled himself against the headboard, reaching his hand out for you. He pulled you into his lap, at first, just holding you there while his lips explored the expanse of your neck.

Your hands found their way to Aaron’s hair, carding through it…tugging ever so slightly. He shifted the two of you ever so slightly so he could ease himself into your heat. Your head falling back, loving every bit of the stretch.

Aarons arms were wrapped tightly around you, desperately gripping you to him, as you gently rocked back and forth. This wasn’t about the sex…this was about vulnerability and intimacy. A moment where two people have bared their souls to one another.

--

The two of you spent the evening wrapped in the sheets, a mess of tangled limbs. You expressed your love for one another in ways you hadn’t before. This was the beginning of you future, one in which you wouldn’t have to hold back. One in which Aaron wasn’t afraid of what you might think.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[marsdql]

A princess lifestyle {L.HS}

sny : You always got what you wanted when around your boyfriend heeseung and his friends, but when you didn't, you would never let it slide. | wc : 0.8k | gen : fluff, slice of life, light crack

The living room was buzzing with conversation—laughter, overlapping voices, and the occasional sound of a video playing from someone’s phone. You had been excitedly talking, sharing a story about something that had happened earlier that day, but the more you spoke, the more you realized… nobody was really listening.

Jay and Sunghoon were talking about a new game, Jake was watching something on his phone, and even Heeseung—your Heeseung—was laughing at whatever was going on between the guys.

Your words trailed off mid-sentence, your excitement fading as you pursed your lips. You blinked a few times, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Fine. If they weren’t going to listen, then you wouldn’t talk at all.

Instead, you crossed your arms and slumped into the couch, huffing softly. The atmosphere remained lively, but now, every laugh and every ignored word stung a little.

Heeseung was the first to notice the shift.

He glanced at you, taking in your pouty lips, the way you hugged your knees to your chest, and the way you refused to even look in their direction. A small smirk tugged at his lips.

“Oh, no,” he murmured under his breath, already knowing exactly what was happening.

He leaned closer, his voice softer now. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, still staring at the couch cushion like it had personally offended you.

Heeseung chuckled, nudging you gently. “Angel.”

Nothing.

Now, the other members were catching on.

“She was just talking a lot a second ago,” Jake whispered.

Sunghoon glanced at you. “Oh, she’s mad.”

Heeseung ignored them, his attention fully on you. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sweetheart, are you upset ‘cause nobody was listening?”

You hated how well he knew you.

Still, you stayed silent, hugging your knees tighter.

Heeseung sighed dramatically before pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. “C’mon, princess,” he cooed, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

The members exchanged glances, but none of them said anything. This was just how Heeseung was with you.

You sniffed. “You weren’t listening…”

His heart clenched at how small and sulky your voice sounded.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, rubbing circles into your back. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very nice of us, huh?”

You pouted, finally looking at him. “…No.”

Heeseung kissed your cheek. “Go on, angel. Tell me again. I’m listening only to you now.”

You still hesitated, but with Heeseung’s warm hands rubbing your back, his eyes soft and full of affection, you couldn’t hold out for long.

So, with a small huff, you started retelling your story—all while Heeseung held you, nodding along, humming in response, and making sure you knew that this time, you had his full attention.

Because to him, you were always the most important thing in the room.

As you continued talking, you suddenly stopped mid-sentence and glanced at Heeseung expectantly.

“I’m thirsty,” you announced, voice sweet but firm.

Without hesitation, Heeseung adjusted his grip around you. “I’ll get you something, baby.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as Heeseung got up. “She literally just sat there and demanded a drink?”

Sunghoon sighed. ���Of course she did. She acts like she’s royalty.”

You simply blinked at them, clearly unbothered. “I don’t act like royalty. I am royalty.”

Jay groaned. “Heeseung, you’re the problem. You let her get away with anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Heeseung responded dismissively, already returning with your drink. “Here you go, angel.”

You smiled, taking a sip, only to hold it back out to him. “Hold it for me.”

Without even questioning it, Heeseung held the glass while you took another sip.

Jake shook his head. “She’s so spoiled.”

Heeseung leaned down, kissing your forehead. “Of course she is. She’s my princess.”

Satisfied, you nuzzled into Heeseung’s chest, letting out a soft sigh. “That’s why I love you the most.”

He smirked. “I know, baby.”

And just like that, your mood was completely restored—all because Heeseung had given you exactly what you wanted, like always.

[emsdevs]

I Think He Knows

a/n: This is in fact part two of The First Date Deal but this could easily be read as a stand alone! It's based off of "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift because Jack and Taylor go hand in hand in my head :) I hope you all enjoy!! 🩵

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Jack Hughes Masterlist

You almost hate to admit how well your relationship with Jack has been going. You’re still in the stage of getting to truly know one another and growing closer. Neither of you had said “I love you” yet, both of you silently worried it was still a little too soon to vocalize. However, that didn’t mean that neither of you felt it. If you were being honest, you’re pretty sure Jack can tell exactly how you feel about him, and you’re just as sure that he’s waiting for you to say something first because he’s cocky like that.

Jack, on the other hand, is doing exactly what you think he’s doing. You make it so easy for him to know how you feel about him, even though you think you’re not making it obvious. He wants you to say something first, so he can have the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.” He knew from the beginning how well the two of you would fit together. You were the one who needed convincing, so he’s gonna let you take the lead this time, no matter how long it takes.

He can tell every time you look at him. He sees the way you eye his hands around his glass when you two are at a bar celebrating a win. Your eyes tell him everything he needs to know, that although you two aren’t officially “together” yet, you want to know his body like it’s yours. It is. He is. You just don’t know it yet.

He sees it in the way you narrow your eyes at him when he gets sassy. You know it’s just a part of him, but he knows you want to see what’s under it. You want to get to know the real Jack Hughes, not just the parts he lets the media see on occasion. You want to know what he’s like when he’s soft and cuddly. You want to know what he’s like when he is frustrated and upset. You want to know every part of him, and he’s ready to let you in.

When you come over to his place, you make yourself at home, and it makes him want you to stay. He’d give anything to be with you 24/7, but that’s just not possible. It makes him realize he’s got to lock you down soon and ask you to be his girlfriend. Good ones like you don’t stick around to wait forever. He knows someone would sweep you off your feet if they got the chance. He just has to beat them to it, so he sets his plan in motion.

He had already texted you, making sure you were free to go out with him that night. He packed a bag full of snacks and grabbed some blankets, loading them into his car. It’s about 8:30 PM when he finally picks you up, and when he starts driving toward the woods, you have to remind yourself that Jack wouldn’t murder you, probably. Soon enough, he pulls his car into a parking lot for an overlook, and he drags you down the path leading to the overlook, refusing to let you carry any of the snacks or blankets. After the two of you get settled on the blanket, Jack pulls you into his side, ready to start the final stage of his master plan.

“So…” he starts, pausing until you respond.

“So what?” you giggle, having a feeling you might know where this is going.

“You got something you wanna tell me?” he’s cheeky when he says it, and it makes you want to deny everything.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” “Don’t lie to me. We’ve been in this weird talking stage for a few months now. If you say it, I’ll make this official. Right here. Right now.”

“Is this blackmail? This feels like blackmail.”

“Not blackmail. Just being honest. I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend either way. I’m just trying to be sure about how you feel before I do, so if you don’t say it now, it could be a while,” he shrugs as he talks.

Your heart feels like it’s skipping around inside of your body right now. The adrenaline rush Jack can give you is a drug you’re not sure you’ll ever get tired of. You sigh before telling him beginning to give in, “I don’t think I have to tell you. I think you know.”

“Well, obviously I know, but I still need to hear you say it, sweet girl.”

“Fine! Jack Hughes,” you pause for dramatic effect, “I’m falling in love with you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he drops a kiss on your cheek.

“So where are we gonna go from here?” you question with a bright smile on your face.

“Where are we gonna go?” he leans in, grabbing your waste, and just before he closes the gap, he whispers, “I think you know.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @justxpaulina @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude @alex-wotton @one-sweet-gubler @pickedapuck @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals

join the taglist

[startheskelaton]

I'm still not over the potential fallout of Nightflyers death.

Like sparkplugs obviously going to be upset and maybe even have something else going on depending on the exact circumstances. I have no idea if she'd be involved in any way or see him die or not but, like, they had a connection and she still rather liked him so of course she has a complicated feeling of grief.

Starscream and Slipstream are definitely NOT okay. Probably in absolute pieces. And likely still expected to deal with whatever political fallout comes directly after Nightflyer dies.

As for Soundblaster I can see him being there for Sparkplug and initially not having an immediate reaction himself. Like he feels something like grief but he thinks it's just because Sparkplug is sad. But time tics by and the feelings still there along with the certain knowledge that Nightflyer isnt there and (as far as he knows) will never be there again. Along with the persistent lack of his presence in Soundblaster life.

Depending on the timeline of events I wouldn't be surprised if Soundblaster only realized he was actually SAD about losing Nightflyer and had been grieving this whole time after Nightflyer is revived.

((I know I've been sending a lot of asks and I am sorry. I'll try to slow this thought train down))

So… believe it or not… Sparkplug seemingly had no reaction to Nightflyers death at first.

This was because after seeing Soundwave die, killing Tarn, dealing with Tarn as her new ghost guide, learning from him that Optimus was actually always watching her as a spirit and just now finally gone to the all spark….. She had kinda started numbing herself to it all. Not because she wanted to, but with everything going on, she felt like it was almost inevitable that someone else close to her was going to die, so she was already prepared for the worst.

I feel like this would tie into her getting closer with Slipstream, as they’ve basically switched how they show themselves.

Slipstream is 100% emotion right now, any cute bubbly persona she had perfectly crafted over her life is now overshadowed by her genuine true self. While Sparkplug is basically a wall, taking orders, doing what she has to do and only opening up to Soundblaster on occasion… aka, pulling a megatron. Slipstream would see this and become infuriated, if this girl cared about her brother so much, why wasn’t she acting like it? How dare she ignore the problem in front of them.

Eventually Sparkplug would eventually break, telling Slipstream that she genuinely just expects the people around her to just die because that’s what’s been happening… why would it stop now. In their grief they find a common ground, a desire to just be with their family and keep them safe, from that grows a respect and eventual friendship.

Soundblaster is always thinking of Nightflyer even if he doesn’t realize it. So the moment he’s actually gone… he’s not okay. The one constant in his life disappeared and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s happy to be with Sparkplug but he knows that something is missing, and that feeling grows the longer he’s gone.

So I’m imagining that Nightflyer coming back and Megatron dying are tied in some way. Megatron allows Starscream to end his life so that Starscream has a chance to save his son and bring him back. Eye for an eye, true forgiveness in death.

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Two

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

Whoever created the saying ‘you can cut the tension with a knife’ had never been more wrong. Someone would need a power saw to cut the tension between Bucky and I. After the little disagreement we had, we both went to sleep with our backs turned towards each other. It was well into the morning and not one word had been spoken between us. 

Bucky was in the bathroom, getting ready for our market trip, while I was standing at the counter with my back turned towards the bathroom and making a list of everything we needed. Despite the bad end to my night, I had managed to make decent money at work so we were able to buy more than usual. 

Sensing Bucky’s warmth behind me, I continued to ignore him as I double counted the money. It became incredibly hard to ignore him when his scent filled my nose, sending chills throughout my body. We stood shoulder to shoulder as he looked over some of his knives before pocketing them. 

“You haven’t brought your knives with you in almost a year,” I spoke softly. 

He shrugged and I felt him slip one into my back pocket. His hand lingered for a quick second before pulling away. 

“I have a weird feeling.” He admitted. 

Bucky went to walk away but I placed a hand on his broad chest to stop him. His eyes looked into my own and I could sense the disappointment lingering off of him. 

“I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’ve been so upset with what Hydra did to me that I forgot for a second of what you went through. It was wrong of me to be so ‘woe is me’ when you’re going through the same thing; only worse.” 

He sighed and placed his flesh hand over mine that was still placed on his chest. He gave it a quick squeeze. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have shut you out the way I did. The past few days I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that something is going to happen.”

I looked at him confused. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “We should get going.” 

Bucky dropped my hand to place his hat over his head and he went to hand me mine but I declined. 

“I think my new hair color is going to be enough of a disguise,” I joked while throwing it up into a messy bun. 

“I still can’t believe it changed that quick,” Bucky said. 

A large groan left my lips. “I know. I thought about dying it to my original color but who knows that it won’t change back.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I kind of like it.” 

“Oh you do, huh?” 

I could stop the small giggle I let out as the air around us shifted. The anger between us dissipated and was replaced with sexual tension. Bucky closed the distance between us in one large step and his metal fingers tangled in my hair, releasing it around my face. 

“I also like it when it’s down,” Bucky mused, his voice getting deeper. “Easier to grab.” 

His fingers gently grabbed the back of my skull and pulled my lips closer to his. 

Clearing my throat, I tried to think of something to say back. But with the intense sexual feeling that was warming my insides, my brain went to mush. Lust clouded around us, creating a small bubble with only the two of us. We were blocked out from the rest of the world. I stumbled over my words and could feel Bucky’s warm breath fanning over my lips. 

“Y/N,” he breathed. 

“Yes?” 

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say. But he wasn’t able to speak because my phone ringing from the counter brought us back to reality. I felt him start to pull away so I gently grabbed his hips. 

“I have voicemail,” I reminded him. 

He shook his head, embarrassment causing his cheeks to turn red. “It’s okay. We should really get going.” 

And suddenly the bubble around us popped. 

Letting out a sigh, I reached for my phone. Bucky slipped on his glove over his metal hand so he hadn’t noticed the look of shock on my face when I read the new text message. 

Make sure to bring an umbrella today. I’m seeing a chance of rain.

The number may have been unknown but I didn’t matter. I knew who it came from. 

“Who was it?” Bucky questioned from behind. 

“No one,” I shook my head while pocketing my phone. “Ready?” 

Bucky knew I was hiding something but thankfully he decided not to press the issue. We both walked out of the apartment and I suddenly had the same feeling that something was about to happen today. 

Something we weren’t prepared for. 

Giving the old lady a quick smile of thanks, I placed the bag of apples in the one I had brought from home and looked around for Bucky. He mentioned that he needed to run a personal errand once but that was a while ago. I started to worry that something might have happened to him, especially after receiving the text message earlier. 

“Looking for someone?” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Bucky. “Find what you need?” 

He nodded before slowly pulling out a small box from his pocket and handed it towards me. I took it without saying a word and when I opened it, a small gasp left my lips. Inside was a small necklace. A black gem shaped as a circle was in the middle and gold surrounded it. 

“What is this?” I asked. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

My eyes snapped away from the necklace and over to Bucky. His hands were deep in his pockets, something I noticed he did when he was nervous. 

“You remembered?” 

It was right when we first arrived in Bucharest, one of the earlier nights, we stayed up as he listened to me go on about my life before SHIELD; my childhood, my family, and the time I spent in the FBI and SWAT. 

Bucky nodded. “I know it’s not much but it’s all I could afford.” 

Immediately shutting him up, I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s absolutely perfect, Bucky. Thank you.” 

Tears brimmed in my eyes as I turned my back to him, allowing him to place the necklace on my neck. Bucky’s breath fanned over the back of my neck and chills took over my body. His hands rested on my hips from behind and his soft lips left a kiss on the side of my neck. 

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m taking things slow between us. I’m trying to remember how to do all of this.” Bucky admitted with a hushed tone. 

“It’s alright. I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. 

My fingertips played with the necklace and my heart warmed with the thought that Bucky had wanted to get me a present. 

Bucky brushed his lips against the side of my head and motioned towards the plum stand that was a few feet in front of us. 

“Alright, let’s get some plums then head back home.” 

His metal arm wrapped around my shoulder as he led me towards the stand. I remained quiet as I watched Bucky converse with the lady in Romanian, asking if the plums were good today. After he bought five, he looked down at me with a small smile. 

“What?” He asked.

“I like it when you speak Romanian,” I admitted while biting my lip. 

Suddenly the air around us shifted and Bucky noticed it as well. He pulled me closer to him and looked around the market. His body went rigid with tension and I quickly took the bag of plums from the lady then we both rushed our way home. 

We came to a stop as we were getting ready to cross the road, however, Bucky’s eyes landed on a man that was working at a newsstand. The man watched our every movement with fear in his eyes. 

“We’ve been made,” Bucky muttered. 

My eyes doubled. “What? Are you sure?”

He discreetly nodded towards the man, who now left his stand, and we both crossed out way over to it. Bucky looked around while my eyes went straight to the newspaper from today and what I read on the front page dropped my heart straight to my stomach. Even though I couldn’t read Romanian, the only words I needed to know were Winter Soldier. 

“Bucky,” I stammered while showing him the front page. “What does this say?”

“I’m wanted for bombing the U.N in Vienna.” 

His heart hammered in his chest and his breath quickened. After he threw the paper back on the stand, he brought me into his chest and started walking back towards our apartment. It was only a few minutes from the market so thankfully we could get out of hiding fast. 

“What are we going to do?” I trembled. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky reassured me. “Let’s just get home. We’ll figure it out.” 

Once we were safely inside the complex, Bucky and I both rushed up the stairs but he came to a quick halt right outside the door. His shoulders went straight and he brought out a knife from his pocket. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s inside,” he muttered nodding towards the door. 

“Seriously? Who found out where we live?” I thought mostly towards myself. 

Bucky went to go inside but I stepped in front of him to stop him. “Let me go first. Police are looking for you, not me. If they’re inside, I can distract them long enough for you to make a run for it.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you, Y/N.” 

“I’ll be okay. We’ll meet at that place in the mountains.” 

We had a small house up in the mountains that we were using as a safe house in case something like this were to happen. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, I entered the apartment with the knife clutched hard in my hand. I sensed a body as soon as my feet crossed the threshold and once I saw who exactly was in the apartment, the knife clattered to the ground causing him to turn on his heels, shield drawn high ready to fight. 

All of the past feelings slammed into me like a brick wall and even under the mask, I could tell that his face was showing the effects of how tired he was, his eyes shined a little less than they used too. 

We stared at each other for a few long moments before he placed the shield on the counter. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 

Swallowing the very large lump in my throat, my voice had come out way more shaky than I had intended. 

“Steve.” 

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: depression, inferiority complexes

While Sandra & Patricia got their eyebrows done, Bianca and I had a short chat alone. She noticed that I was upset about her twin sister.

Me: Why didn’t you tell me right away that she’s coming with us? I thought you were my friend. 🙁

Bianca: No offense, I truly care about our friendship. I just want us to get along! You, my sister, Sandra... we all, yk? I told Patricia you are important to me and she should apologize to you. She agreed with me! She wants to leave this embarrassing dispute behind. So it’s up to you, A.

Me: You really care about me? 😳 ... I'm sorry, you're right.

Bianca: I just love you girl. Come here, you sweet little thing. Aww, you’re as cute as Lucas.🥰😘

Me: Are you comparing me to my Baby? 😊 ... Love you too.

Bianca’s little declaration of love was actually sweet. I liked her and she also liked me. At least I thought so!!! Since I believed her, I tried to get along with Patricia. Still, I never trusted her. After I got my eyelash extensions, Bianca had planned another cosmetic treatment for all of us.

Together we went over to a changing room, a large comfortable room with a private area for changing. They offered us spray tanning. I’ve never done this before. As long as I don’t get orange 🥕, why not? Bianca and her twin sister went first, I wanted to see the result before I decide.

The twins looked so good with their perfect bodies. They are beautiful!! When I realized that I had to undress, I hesitated. Seeing these perfect girls, totally intimidated and unsettled me. Sandra suspected what was going on.

My complexes caused a kind of panic attack in me. I was so ashamed. Next to Bianca and Patricia I felt totally fat and ugly. But even more embarrassing was my insecurity. 😞😞 I didn’t want them to know about it, so I followed Sandra to the changing area to get undressed. Without her I wouldn’t have done it.

Sandra: You ok, A.?

Me: I feel like I’m having a panic attack. Are the two gone? Are we alone?

Sandra: Yes. They get dressed next door. C'mon, A.! You can put on a towel if you don’t feel comfortable.

Me: There were no towels!! 🤷‍♀️

Sandra: Honestly, you look good. Why are you so ashamed?

Me: Actually I’ve been happy with myself lately. But now I realized that I am far away from what I imagined. 🤦‍♀️😞

Sandra: For whom are you trying so desperately to be perfect? Your Mom? Does this really, still have to do with her?

Me: Idc what my Mom thinks. There’s just something wrong with me, I’m the prob!! Anyway...

Me: You know, I don’t want that! You mad at me now?

Sandra: No! It's ok, A.!

Me: Sorry, I know how annoying this must be for you. I’m glad you’re here, thank you for trying to cheer me up. I’ll wait behind the curtains and get dressed.

Sandra: The main thing is you feel better, don’t worry about me, okay? All right, I'll be back in ten.

I was so disappointed in myself. I felt like 16 again. 😞I thought I wouldn't still be dealing with this shit, but I guess, I was wrong.

Previous/Next

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Dollhouse 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems. 

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker 

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: Hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3 

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖 

You wake up to the acidic clench of your stomach. You lurch up and cover your mouth, dizzy as you nearly fall off the edge of the bed. Your insides are on fire and your head is pounding. Oof, why do people drink if this is how it makes them feel? 

“Lu,” Barbie startles you as she tickles your back, “are you alright?” 

“Hmmph,” you keep your lips sealed as a swell rises from your stomach. 

You must be in her room. You can’t see much in the dark which does little for your drunken disorientation. You stand and stumble around with one hand on your stomach, the other reaching for escape. 

“Oh, if you’re going to be sick, there’s a bucket--” 

She turns on the lamp and you spin around. You stagger and fall to your knees as you hug the bin next to the bed and hurl. You can taste the alcohol and the fruity mixer through the bile. You heave until your guts are dry and achy. 

“I’m so sorry, Lu,” Barbie shimmies over the bed and takes the glass of water from the night table. “We should’ve slowed down.” 

“Urgh,” you accept the cool glass and take a large gulp before resting it against your temple. “My own fault. I coulda stopped.” 

She gives a soft smile. Her make-ups all gone but her natural appearance is somehow even prettier. She looks like one of those perfect celebrities in a skincare add. 

She sidles along the bed and stands. She crosses the room and takes a box. She pulls free a wipe and offers it. 

“You should get all that off before you break out,” she hands you the makeup wipe. 

“Oh, uh...” you set the glass on the table and look down embarrassed. You giggle. You must look a mess. “Thanks.” 

“I didn’t want to do it myself in case I woke you up,” she explains. 

She wears a strappy nighty. Dove grey silk trimmed with white lace. She looks like a grown woman while you feel like a little girl on the floor. 

“I uh,” you wipe your cheek. “I should go dump this and brush my teeth.” 

“Yeah, uh, well, if you want to hang out in here the rest of the night, it’s fine with me.” She offers. You nod as you stand. She chews her lip and rubs her arm, “can I tell you something?” 

You giggle nervously, “sure?” 

“I... I might be a bit drunk still but I’m a bit freaked out by this place.” 

Your expression slackens. Hearing her say your feelings aloud is sobering. “Me too,” you confess. “The first week here, alone...” 

“Well, we’re all here now, so hopefully it’s not as bad,” she shrugs. 

You scrunch your mouth. “I think I’ll take you up. I’m just going to go clean off.” 

“Sure, that’s... that’s fine.” 

You lift the bin and sway, just a bit. You feel her watching you, it makes you feel a bit better. You’ve never been drunk before and she seems to know what she’s doing. It’s also comforting to know that someone like her could ever be nervous. 

You find the bathroom across the hall and pour your puke down the toilet. You rinse it out and leave it in the tub to dry. You open the drawer you labeled as your own and fish out your toothbrush. You scrub away, basking in the minty freshness, and your eyelids start to droop. 

All at once you’re awake. There’s a crash so loud it feels as if it shakes the house. You hear a girl cry out from downstairs and you spit into the sink. You drop your tooth brush and hurry into the hallway. Barbie meets you there as she charges out breathless. 

“What was that?” She asks. 

You look at her and shake your head. You were going to ask her the same. Another door opens and Polly emerges rubbing her eyes, a mask pushed up above her brow. She wears satiny pajama pants and a matching button-up. 

“What the heck are you doing out here?” She grumbles. 

Ann charges out in high alert and scuffs to a halt. She wears a long band tee and shorts. She looks terrified as she grips a wooden hair brush in her hand. She peers down at it and gives a nervous grimace. 

“Do you think it was Molly?” You ask and tinkle with frightened laughter. 

You stare at each other, exchanging horrifying looks, then turn to face the stairs. You gulp as you listen to the lull. Tension roils up as you try to hear anything. If that was Molly, she must be really hurt. 

You’re the first to move, not out of bravery or anything of the sort. You only know that if it were, you, you’d want someone to help. Barbie calls after you and follows and the clamour of the girls' footsteps echo your own. 

You don’t drink. You were always too afraid to try. You don’t like the idea of losing control. Still, you didn’t want to be left out. Not again. 

Your eyes feel like they’re rolling in their sockets. You groan and cover your head with your arm as you try to hold the pieces together. Slowly, you turn onto your back and take a deep breath. It makes your stomach curdle. 

The swishiness in your belly, the rippling shadows of your vision, it feeds into your anxiety. You’re fully awake as you struggle to clasp onto some semblance of control. 

You force your eyes to focus and let out a yipe at the tremour of light in the window. You sit up so fast you keel over your lap. You cradle your head and heave. If you do that again, you’re going to be sick. 

Why did you give in to peer pressure? The girls are nice but you’re not a drinker. You’re not cool like them, so why did you try to keep up with them? 

You sit up and stare at the window. You squint at the shadow of a tree branch. You’re still drunk and you’re seeing things. You wince but can’t make yourself lay down. You feel like if you do, you might wretch up all that pizza. 

You get up and drag your feet across the room. You hover before your door and slowly push down the handle. You poke your head out first and check back and forth that the coast is clear. You emerge and traipse sluggishly down the hall. 

As you come around the corner to the bathroom, the figure standing by the window startles you. You gasp as Peter turns, the moonlight streaming in limning his features. He wears only a pair of sweatpants as he faces you. 

“Hey, did you hear it too?” He asks. 

You hesitate and clutch your hands over your boiling stomach, “hear what?” 

“Something in the back yard....” he looks out again. “Or someone.” 

You inch forward and hug yourself. Your teeth chatter as you get closer, the intensity of his gaze worries you. He searches outside as he leans into the glass. 

“I... I thought I saw something but... I was just getting up too...” your mouth is dry and acrid. “I think I drank too much.” 

“You girls sure got into the punch,” he agrees though his tone is heavy, his attention still boring into the yard. 

Suddenly, he nudges you out of the way and stomps past you. Your stomach flips but in a much different way. What’s going on? Why is he acting like this? 

You spin and follow him, “Peter?” 

“Molly, you should go to your room.” He hurls over his shoulder. 

“What? Why?” 

“There’s someone out there,” he stops by the back door. “I just saw them. Go. Call Jonathan.” 

“Oh, but... Peter--” 

“Go to your room, now,” he faces you and grabs your arms. “If you see them, tell the others to do the same.” 

You stare at him through the dim. You can’t see much but you feel the direness in his grip. You nod and gulp. He lets you go and you stumble away. The lock of the door flips back loudly. 

You scurry back to your room and scramble for your phone. You can’t remember where you put it. It’s not by your pillow or on the night stand. It’s not in your bag either. Nothing on the desk. 

“Hey...” you hear Peter’s holler through the window. You go to look through as he stomps out with the broom in hand. “Hey, get the hell out--” 

A large silhouette appears before him, ominous as it remains concealed in the shadows of the hedges. Peter continues to shout as he braces the broom for his defense. You heart hammers in your chest. This place is supposed to be secure, that’s what Jonathan said. 

Your panic flows through you like ice. You race back out to search for your phone in the common room. You had to have left it there. You stop yourself from turning on the lights. You don’t want to give yourself away. 

You feel around the table, then around the ping pong table, but you don’t find anything. You go back to the kitchen and scour the counter blindly. 

A scuff sounds from just inside the backdoor and you freeze where you are. You peer over as another large shadow enters. It’s too big to be Peter. You don’t hear him either. Oh no. 

“I called the cops,” you lie as the stranger turn to you. He chuckles. “So you better go--” 

“Ah, you did?” He wonders in his baritone and raises his hand, wiggling a small rectangle. The phone lights up in his grasp, your flowery wallpaper glaring in your vision. “How exactly did you do that?” 

Your heart thumps and you back up. You twist around and charge around the other side of the island. He’s too fast. He grabs you around your waist and lifts you off your feet. You kick and flail, your foot cracking off the corner of the island. 

“Now, calm down. I don’t gotta hurt you if you just behave,” he growls. 

“No, no,” you chafe his forearm in your hands as you writhe. “Please, don’t hurt me--” 

“I told you, just stop--” 

You swing your head forward then lurch it back. Your skull bounces off his nose and he grunts. In an instant, you’re flying through the air. You crash against the wall then land heavy on the floor. The air is knocked out of. 

The man coughs and snarls, “well, I guess this is how we’re doing it.”  

He horks and spits on the floor as he closes in on you. He pushes you down with sole of his foot and bends over you. He flashes the phone light in your face and you just catch a glimpse of blond hair and a square jaw. It’s the same man you saw through the window earlier. The one they said was supposed to keep you safe. 

“I thought you were a sweet one,” he growls and grabs you by the neck. 

Lulu runs down the stairs. Barbie calls her name and follows. You’re the next to break into action.

Your steps are clumsy in your descent, fighting not to barrel into the backs of the others. You hear a huffing snarl from further back in the house. Is this some drunken nightmare? 

“Molly?” Lulu squeals and runs down the hallway. 

Barbie reaches to flip on a light switch but nothing happens. The house remains dark as she tries again. You grip the brush in your hand tighter. Your phone is upstairs. 

You slip by Barbie as Polly squeaks behind you. You follow Lulu’s pattering feet and she suddenly yipes as her figure is snatched out of sight. You slide to a halt and raise the brush. What the hell is going on? 

You hear a cry from behind you and spin around. Barbie’s tangled with another man, swatting at him as he holds Polly by her throat. You go to help but hear Lulu again. She whimpers and pleads. 

“Please, please, don’t--” 

You’re dizzy, tipsy even, as you’re split between what way to go. What is this? It can’t be real. 

Barbie scratches the man’s face and he roars, flinging her as Polly kicks his leg. They have each other, Lulu doesn’t have anyone and you have no idea about Molly. Or Peter. 

You turn and hurry down the hall towards Lulu’s smothered cries. There’s hushing back at her, coaxing even. You search back and forth but you can’t see where she is. You hear something from Molly’s open door.  

You twist back and creep down, brush raised like a paddle, read to pour down one whoever dares to attack. You hear the struggle by the entry way, Barbie and Polly’s sneers battling with the man’s grunts. As you get closer to the door frame, the light from the common room blips on, then the one above you. 

The air stills and you face the figure standing in the archway beside you. Jonathan tilts his head as his lips curve slightly. He tuts and shakes his head. You don’t wait, you swing. He catches the brush easily and throws you away so the door frame hits between your shoulder blades. 

“Ladies,” he calls through house. “My associates are not so kind as myself, so I suggest you recall your manners. I’d hate for etiquette to go out the door so quickly.” 

You gape up at him in horror, your spine aching and your lungs on fire. It can’t be him. How could he do this? You look around as the whines and wails of your roommates build in a cacophony of fear. Your lip trembles as your mind echoes the undergirding suspicion. 

It's all too good to be true. 

[salt-clangen]

Moon 14

New leaf

Rain showers had kept the territory muddy, even as Newleaf dragged on. The slush and ice had finally melted with the new moon, leaving nights cool but no longer cold. The air was heavy with the smell of fresh rain and grass as Mallowstripe and Shadowdive padded alongside the river on border patrol.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Mallowstripe said, his eyes flicking to Shadowdive’s tail as it swayed in front of him.

The dark tabby’s tail tip flicked dismissively. “Snowspeckle assigned me,” he replied flatly.

“Still, I’m grateful.” Mallowstripe smiled, already used to the curt responses. “I don’t like straying too far from camp, so it’s nice having company when I do.”

For a time, the only sounds were the quiet patter of water dripping from leaves and the soft thud of their paws in the wet earth. They took turns marking the border as they neared DuskClan’s territory. A few moons ago, the silence would have made Mallowstripe restless, his nerves itching to fill the void with chatter. But over time, he had learned to read Shadowdive’s silences. Quiet meant things were fine. If the tom was upset, he wouldn’t stew—he’d speak up.

“I get antsy if I’m in camp for too long,” Shadowdive said suddenly, breaking the quiet as he stopped to claw at a large tree trunk.

Mallowstripe’s ears perked, his tail lifting slightly. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re clanmates, then,” he chirped, sensing an opening to lighten the mood.

Shadowdive didn’t look at him, but one ear swiveled back. “How so?”

The red tabby grinned, his confidence growing. “That way I’ll handle all the camp stuff, and you can handle everything outside it.”

There was a pause—just long enough to make Mallowstripe’s fur prickle—but then Shadowdive let out a loud, unexpected laugh.

“Deal! You do all the boring stuff, and I’ll be the brave, strong warrior protecting the clan.” His chest shook with laughter, a sound far more boisterous than Mallowstripe had expected from the normally stoic tom.

“If it means you’ll gather firewood for me, go ahead and be the hero,” Mallowstripe teased as he padded ahead to a nearby cluster of trees.

“Nah, someone else can do that,” Shadowdive shot back, his tone still light.

Mallowstripe’s tail flicked as he smiled to himself. Each passing day, Shadowdive seemed more at ease with him. When Mallowstripe had first joined the clan, Shadowdive had been distant—hostile. Snowspeckle had even hinted at his insecurities during one of their chats, though she’d been careful not to reveal too much.

At first, Mallowstripe had assumed Shadowdive was territorial. Maybe it was because they were both toms, or maybe because they were so different: Mallowstripe was soft and easy to like, while Shadowdive was blunt and prickly. Whatever the reason, Shadowdive had clearly felt threatened—especially when Mallowstripe seemed to connect so easily with Wolfstar, Lynxdawn, and Snowspeckle.

But things had changed since then. Now that Shadowdive was Wolfstar’s mate, he seemed less defensive, more open to Mallowstripe. He still wouldn’t admit to his earlier jealousy, but his actions spoke louder than words.

Mallowstripe chattered on as they walked, Shadowdive half-listening, the sun warming his back and making the air feel heavy and humid.

A flash of red caught Shadowdive’s eye. The stench hit him a heartbeat later.

A fox.

The vixen burst from the undergrowth, teeth bared as she snarled at Mallowstripe. The red tabby froze, his fur puffing out in terror.

Shadowdive darted around him, planting himself between Mallowstripe and the predator. His back arched as he hissed, hoping to intimidate her, but the fox was undaunted. She lunged.

With a snarl of his own, Shadowdive brought a heavy paw down on her snout, his claws catching the fur around her eyes. The vixen yelped, and Shadowdive spun, kicking out with his powerful hind legs. The force sent her sprawling.

“Run!” he yowled, grabbing Mallowstripe by the scruff and dragging him a few paces before releasing him.

Mallowstripe shook himself free, claws digging into the wet ground as he bolted alongside Shadowdive. They didn’t stop running until they reached the camp’s shore.

Shadowdive skidded to a halt, sand spraying from his paws. Mallowstripe nearly collided with him, his breaths coming in short gasps.

“Fox!” Shadowdive shouted, his voice ringing through the camp. Heads poked out of dens as cats rushed to see what was happening.

“What?” Wolfstar ran toward them, her fur slick and dripping from a swim with the apprentices.

“A vixen,” Shadowdive panted, his sides heaving. “She probably has cubs. She attacked us near the DuskClan border—by the knotted tree. We need a patrol to drive her out.”

Wolfstar’s eyes narrowed as she turned toward the gathered warriors. “Nightleap, Snowspeckle, with me! We’ll head to DuskClan and gather more warriors. If her den is on their territory, they’ll help us drive her off.”

As the group prepared to leave, Mallowstripe stepped forward, his legs still shaky. “I can help,” he offered, his voice steadier than he felt.

Shadowdive blocked him with his body, his voice low but firm. “Stay here.”

“I’m not hurt,” Mallowstripe protested, insult flaring in his chest.

Shadowdive’s usual sharpness softened. “I know, but stay anyway. I’ll handle the patrol. You watch the camp and the kits.”

Wolfstar and Snowspeckle exchanged glances from the camp entrance, their gazes wary as the two toms spoke quietly. Mallowstripe hesitated, then relented, his tail drooping as Shadowdive turned to join the patrol.

He watched them disappear into the trees, unease prickling at his fur. Even if he wasn’t a fighter, it felt wrong to stay behind.

Several days had passed since the fox encounter, but Ripplepaw and Otterpaw were still buzzing with excitement. They’d been reenacting the fight with the kits in camp and begging Wolfstar to recount the tale every chance they got.

Now, as they headed out for an afternoon lesson, Wolfstar found herself bombarded with yet another round of questions.

“So, DuskClan helped you just like that?” Otterpaw asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yes,” Wolfstar replied, her tone patient but tired after explaining for the third time. “We told them why we had to cross their border. After they sent a patrol to confirm the fox was there, they helped us drive it off.”

“How did you sneak past the fox?” Ripplepaw chimed in, his tail flicking excitedly.

Wolfstar sighed as they approached the tide pools. “We took the long way around, avoiding where we thought the den might be. We stuck close to the river.”

“Why the river?”

“Vixens defending their dens usually won’t jump into water,” Wolfstar explained. “They’ll only chase intruders far enough to get them out of the area they’re protecting.”

The tide was out, leaving the pools shallow and shimmering under the sun. The water was still chilly, but Wolfstar knew it was important to build their swimming endurance while the weather was favorable. She kept a careful eye on the horizon for any changes in the weather.

“When can we fight a fox?” Otterpaw called, already bounding toward the deeper waters beyond the tide pools, his movements lithe and confident, true to his name.

“Hopefully never,” Wolfstar replied firmly, waving her tail dismissively. “You’re too young to be fighting foxes. Now, focus up—we’re practicing sea swimming today.”

Ripplepaw hesitated, easing himself cautiously into the largest pool.

“Otterpaw,” Wolfstar began, turning to the eager tom. “Since you’ve been doing well, I want you to practice your dives. Don’t worry about catching anything—just work on the motions. Ripplepaw, you and I will go over the basics until you’re more comfortable, and then we’ll join your brother.”

Ripplepaw’s ears flattened in frustration. “I can swim in the waves too!” he protested. “I’ve been practicing!”

Wolfstar tutted gently. “At our last session, you were still struggling,” she reminded him.

“But I’ve gotten better!” Ripplepaw argued, climbing out of the pool. “I practiced with Otterpaw at camp!”

Otterpaw’s ear flicked, but his face remained neutral as Wolfstar turned to him. “Is that true?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Otterpaw said with a grin. “He’s been doing great!”

Wolfstar studied them both for a moment, then nodded. Ripplepaw’s determination didn’t surprise her; he’d always been eager to prove himself.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” she said.

Ripplepaw dashed to the waves, flinging himself into the water with Otterpaw close behind. Wolfstar followed, guiding them through paddling exercises in the shallows before leading them out to deeper water. Ripplepaw’s legs burned from the effort, but he pushed himself to keep going, his excitement outweighing his discomfort.

Wolfstar called out tips as they swam along the coast, the half-bridge coming into view in the distance.

“Alright, time to head back to shore,” she called. “There’s a riptide up ahead that we need to avoid.”

Otterpaw obediently turned toward the shore, paddling beside her.

Wolfstar glanced back to check on Ripplepaw—and her heart dropped. He was swimming toward the half-bridge, unaware of her call.

“Ripplepaw!” she shouted, her voice barely carrying over the crashing waves.

Ripplepaw felt exhilarated, the water cooling his aching legs as he pushed forward. He noticed Otterpaw heading to shore but dismissed it—he wasn’t tired yet. He could keep going forever!

Then the water changed. It felt heavier, like it was dragging him down. His limbs moved sluggishly, as though weighted with stones. Panic set in as he coughed and inhaled a mouthful of saltwater. He flailed, trying to keep his head above the waves, but his strength was gone.

The world around him dimmed as he sank. The saltwater stung his eyes and nose, and his lungs burned with the effort to hold his breath. His body felt like it was shutting down, pain turning to numbness.

Just as darkness threatened to claim him, something strong grabbed his scruff.

Wolfstar dove, her heart pounding as she fought against the current. She bit down on Ripplepaw’s scruff and kicked upward, her legs straining with the effort. The current was relentless, pulling them away from the shore. She let it carry them until the water calmed, then swam parallel to the shore until she found a safe place to head in.

Otterpaw was pacing on the sand, his eyes wide with terror.

“Run to camp,” Wolfstar rasped as she dragged Ripplepaw onto the beach. “Tell Lynxdawn what happened!”

Otterpaw bolted without hesitation.

Wolfstar laid Ripplepaw on the sand and pried his mouth open. He wasn’t breathing. Desperation gripped her as she remembered what Lynxdawn had once shown her—chest compressions. She placed her paws on his ribs and pressed down, keeping a steady rhythm.

“Come on, Ripplepaw,” she whispered.

After what felt like an eternity, Ripplepaw’s chest spasmed. He gagged violently, expelling water and bile onto the sand. Wolfstar stepped back, her own body shaking with exhaustion as Ripplepaw coughed and gasped for air.

Otterpaw returned with Lynxdawn and Snowspeckle.

Ripplepaw, still trembling and barely coherent, was carried back to camp by the others. Otterpaw stayed behind with Wolfstar, watching her anxiously as she collapsed onto the sun-warmed sand.

“I’m alright,” she assured him, though her voice was hoarse from the saltwater. “Go check on your brother.”

Otterpaw hesitated, his eyes welling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Wolfstar blinked at him. “It’s not your fault,” she said gently, reaching out with a paw.

“It is!” Otterpaw cried, pulling away. “I lied! Ripplepaw said he’d been practicing with me, and I went along with it even though I knew it wasn’t true. He wasn’t ready, and I knew it!”

Wolfstar’s heart ached as she saw the guilt on his face. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength before standing on shaky legs.

“That was a reckless thing to do,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “But I can see you understand that now.”

Otterpaw sniffled, swiping at his eyes.

“We’ll talk more about it later,” Wolfstar continued. “Right now, we need to get back to camp and make sure Ripplepaw is okay.”

Otterpaw nodded, falling into step beside her.

As they walked, Wolfstar paused to swipe her tongue over his head. Otterpaw glanced up at her, startled.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, Otterpaw,” she purred softly.

Otterpaw’s lip trembled, but he managed a small nod.

Mallowstripe led a small patrol of Shadowdive and Snowspeckle up the shore early one morning. The sand was cool underpaw, soft but firm enough not to clump, which was a relief. The gentle hush of waves filled the air as they walked, but Mallowstripe’s thoughts drowned out the soothing rhythm. He came to a stop in a wide, clear stretch of sand, far enough from the tide.

“You sure about this?” Snowspeckle asked, her voice low. She let Shadowdive take the lead, her gaze steady on Mallowstripe.

“I’m sure.” He nodded, his eyes flicking toward Shadowdive. He could feel his nerves fluttering like leaves in the wind, but he stood his ground.

“Don’t look at me.” Shadowdive’s tone was dry, though his green eyes gleamed with interest as he glanced back at them. “I’m not your opponent.”

Mallowstripe blinked, confused. “But I thoug—”

Before he could finish, Snowspeckle barreled into him with a shove, sending him rolling. He spat out a mouthful of sand, glaring up at her, though his indignation was half-hearted.

“Sorry, Mallow,” Snowspeckle teased, her tail flicking playfully against his nose as she began circling him. “Shadowdive offered to cover three of my sunhigh patrols if I surprised you.”

Mallowstripe couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips, though he wondered if he should feel more annoyed. Still, he didn’t hesitate—he lunged from the ground, claws digging into the sand. Snowspeckle dodged at the last moment, her laugh ringing out.

The two squared off, their movements cautious but deliberate. Without taking his eyes off her, Mallowstripe called out, “When I asked you to teach me to fight, I thought it would involve more… teaching.”

Shadowdive settled into a loaf on the sand, his smirk as sharp as his tone. “I want to see what you do naturally before I start fixing all your mistakes. And don’t worry—there’ll be plenty.”

“If you two are done posturing,” Snowspeckle said, her tail lashing, “let’s fight.”

She darted forward, her speed startling. Mallowstripe had only a heartbeat to react. He dug his claws into the sand and threw himself to the side. She missed, but his overcorrection left him unsteady.

Snowspeckle spun on her paws, leaping onto his back. Her claws were sheathed for the training session, but her weight still pressed down heavily. He buckled, the strain in his legs burning, but he forced himself to roll.

She hit the sand with a grunt, but before she could recover, he pounced, pinning her down with his smaller frame. For a moment, triumph flickered in his chest.

That moment didn’t last long.

With a well-placed kick, she knocked the wind from his lungs, forcing him to loosen his grip. She wriggled free, her movements sharp and efficient. Before Mallowstripe could regain his footing, she kicked firmly, flipping him over her head.

He landed hard near the waves, saltwater splashing onto his pelt. He scrambled to his paws, only for Snowspeckle to swipe his legs out from under him, sending him crashing down once more.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Shadowdive’s voice cut through the air, commanding.

Snowspeckle stepped back, offering Mallowstripe a paw. He accepted it, groaning softly as he stood and shook the water and sand from his fur. She looked noticeably cleaner, a fact that didn’t escape his attention.

Shadowdive beckoned them closer, his tail motioning toward the dry sand. “That wasn’t awful.”

“Shadow.” Snowspeckle’s tone held a warning, her sharp gaze aimed at him.

He ignored her, his focus solely on Mallowstripe. “You’ve got decent speed, but she’s faster. And you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Letting the fight drift too close to the water could’ve been dangerous. But,” he added, his voice steady, “you’ve got a sense of the basics. That’s a start.”

Mallowstripe’s chest rose and fell heavily, his sides aching, but a flicker of pride warmed him. It wasn’t high praise, but coming from Shadowdive, it felt like a victory.

Fennelheart succumbed to greencough.

Lynxdawn found him curled up and cold in his nest early in the morning. The den felt hauntingly quiet without his constant sniffling. He'd seemed fine when she left him the night before, returning to the nursery to tend her adopted litter. His cough hadn’t improved, but it hadn’t worsened either. She couldn’t fathom what had dealt the final blow.

She sat with him in silence, absorbing the weight of her first lost clanmate. Then, after a deep breath, she forced herself to rise and inform the clan. Shadowdive was sent in to help her. Traditionally, the leader or deputy would assist in such matters, but Wolfstar was out on patrol, and Snowspeckle was tending to her son.

The pair worked quietly to prepare him for his last visit. Lynxdawn, ever meticulous, wiped his fur clean of the scents of illness and death, using moss soaked in rosemary water. The soothing, herbal aroma filled the den. She finished by rubbing his pelt with heather and carefully tucking a sprig of fennel into the fluffy mane around his neck, her tears falling steadily as she worked.

Shadowdive remained respectfully silent, fetching what she needed and carrying away bowls of water. He didn’t comment on her tears, giving her the space to grieve privately.

When Fennelheart was ready, Wolfstar arrived at the den just as they prepared to move him. Her blue eyes glistened, and she couldn’t muster a word. Shadowdive stepped forward and pressed his head gently to her shoulder.

Lynxdawn dragged her tail over Wolfstar’s side as she passed. “Let’s give her a moment, Shadow.”

Shadowdive hesitated but eventually nodded. “Take all the time you need. The clan can visit after.” His voice was low and kind.

Wolfstar sat near the entrance for a while, her back brushing against the pelt curtain. With a shuddering breath, she finally crept closer. Her tears spilled freely as she stood over Fennelheart’s body.

“I… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t bring you to SaltClan just… just for you to die.”

She settled beside him, pressing her nose into his stiff, cold fur. The unfamiliar texture sent a shiver through her, but she refused to pull away. Her tears soaked into his fur as she spoke.

“I wish I’d spoken with you more, so you wouldn’t have been alone when this happened,” she murmured. “I thought you were getting better… I’m sorry. But I won’t let you be forgotten.”

She swiped at her face with a trembling paw. “You’re SaltClan’s first loner and our first death. You’ll be remembered for your kindness and your hunting prowess.”

Her words broke into sobs. After a time, Shadowdive entered the den, unable to stay away from his grieving mate. He helped guide her out gently, his presence steady and unyielding. The clan had gathered by then, their eyes somber and full of unspoken condolences.

Ripplepaw’s nest had been moved to the cleric den’s entrance so he could watch, though he was still weak from the water in his lungs. Nightleap sat with a tense Otterpaw, a noticeable gap between them. Lynxdawn had gathered her kits in front of the nursery. The young ones were quiet, their wide eyes darting nervously. Sandkit climbed onto Wolfstar, trembling, and nestled between her paws. Coralkit and Kelpkit buried themselves in Lynxdawn’s fur, while Dropletkit hesitated before inching closer to Wolfstar, settling by her tail.

Shadowdive returned to the den and carried Fennelheart’s body into the clearing, laying him gently in the center. The clan approached in pairs to share their final goodbyes. Lynxdawn and Shadowdive were first, followed by Mallowstripe and Snowspeckle, who murmured soft words into his fur. Nightleap’s visit was brief but respectful, while Otterpaw lingered longer, his head bowed.

Ripplepaw joined his brother, with Snowspeckle’s help, to pay his respects. The clan watched silently until all had taken their turn. Finally, Lynxdawn stepped forward to call the funeral to a close, sharing a few heartfelt words about Fennelheart and his time in the clan.

As the clan began to disperse, Wolfstar rose to her paws. Lynxdawn led her kits back to the nursery for the sunhigh nap. Shadowdive stayed by Wolfstar’s side, his misty eyes betraying his tightly clenched jaw. Their duty wasn’t over—Fennelheart’s body still needed to be laid to rest.

As they began to carry him, Mallowstripe stepped forward. “I can take him,” he said quietly.

Wolfstar hesitated, reluctant to let anyone else shoulder such a grim task. “It’s alright,” she said.

“No, you two should stay here,” he insisted. “Nightleap and I can handle it.”

Wolfstar opened her mouth to argue, but Shadowdive surprised her. “Let him take Fennelheart,” he said, his voice low and rough. “We’ll stay here.”

Wolfstar eyed her mate as Mallowstripe and Nightleap took Fennelheart’s body and carried him out of camp. “Since when do you agree with him?” she muttered.

“Don’t pout,” Shadowdive murmured, nuzzling her shoulder. “You should rest. This has been hard on you… and on me.”

At the graveyard, Nightleap shot Mallowstripe a glare. “Thanks for volunteering me,” she grumbled. “Would’ve been nice to be asked.”

“Sorry,” Mallowstripe said, though he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “I just wanted them to let me handle it.”

Nightleap snorted as she dug. “They wouldn’t have minded doing it themselves.”

“They needed to grieve,” he replied, his voice firm as he stepped out of the finished grave. “They both do so much for the clan. I think we forget they need to be cared for too.”

“They have each other,” Nightleap pointed out dryly, wiping her dirty paws against the damp grass.

Mallowstripe sighed, irritation flaring. “We’re a clan,” he said, tail lashing. “It’s all of our job to take care of each other.”

“Yeah, well,” Nightleap drawled mockingly, “maybe you should keep your nose out of other cats’ business.”

Mallowstripe bristled, biting back the sharp retort that hovered on his tongue. “You’re free to go back to camp,” he said instead, his tone clipped. “I’ll finish the burial.”

“Suit yourself,” she chirped, waving her tail as she trotted back.

Alone, Mallowstripe huffed and gave his chest a quick lick to calm himself. He turned back to Fennelheart’s body, his voice soft as he murmured, “Sorry, Fennelheart. Should’ve picked someone you don’t dislike.”

He chattered as he laid the calico tom’s body in the grave, recounting stories of the last gathering, the kits’ antics, and anything else he could think of. Talking filled the silence, making the task feel less heavy. Fennelheart had always listened without complaint, and for a moment, it felt like he still was.

As Mallowstripe began to push dirt over the grave, his words faltered. The soil was soft and dark from recent rain, with the faint scent of the sea carried on the breeze. He worked slowly, pausing to wipe his eyes. When the grave was finally filled, he patted the earth down gently and whispered a promise to return and plant flowers.

With a weary sigh, he turned back toward camp, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders.

The gathering this moon was somber for SaltClan. Fennelheart’s death, only days before, weighed heavily on their spirits. As punishment for lying about the fox, Otterpaw wasn’t allowed to attend. Instead, he stayed behind with Mallowstripe, helping prep prey for the next day. Wolfstar had made sure to assign his least favorite tasks to drive her disappointment home, but Otterpaw didn’t complain. He merely ducked his head and got to work.

Shadowdive is rubbing off on him, she thought, a small, fond smile flickering across her face as she glanced at the apprentice from a distance.

Ripplepaw, meanwhile, wasn’t so lucky. His punishment was postponed until he recovered, but it would be more severe. The fact that he had doubled down on his lies even after waking up meant Wolfstar needed to be firm. She was debating options—kitsitting for Lynxdawn, cleaning and replacing all the nests, or something equally tedious. Whatever she chose, it would keep him confined to camp until he understood the weight of his actions.

Shaking out her coat, Wolfstar tried to clear her head as she waited for the gathering to begin. All the clans had arrived, but Jaggedstar had paused the introductions to confer with her deputy. They were too far away for her to hear, but their tense, low conversation seemed even more clipped and irritable than usual. Wolfstar suppressed a yawn and turned her attention to her clan.

Snowspeckle was perched on the deputy’s rock, chatting with a HoneyClan apprentice. Nightleap sat nearby, looking slightly out of place, as always. Shadowdive stood close to Lynxdawn and the other clerics, likely avoiding OakClan warriors, but his occasional glances toward Jaggedstar and her deputy, Thornstrike, didn’t escape Wolfstar’s notice.

Finally, Jaggedstar rejoined the gathering, signaling its start. Thornstrike, however, left the clearing quickly.

OakClan led, as was tradition. Archstar boasted about a near gaggle of new apprentices and an elder retiring, spending more time than necessary detailing trade agreements and loner activity before ceding the stage.

Jaggedstar’s update was brief. She announced a newly graduated warrior, her tone clipped and sharp, and returned to her seat with little fanfare.

Rookstar hesitated before taking his turn, seemingly caught off guard. HoneyClan had no new apprentices or warriors, but he mentioned accepting a new member from the area and proudly noted that honey production was increasing with the season. Before finishing, he mentioned that HoneyClan’s clerics had heard yowling and crying outside the Moon Spring during the last half-moon gathering.

Jaggedstar dismissed the claim immediately. “Foxes,” she said flatly.

Rookstar didn’t press, but Archstar perked up at the mention, their gaze flicking between the two.

When it was finally her turn, Wolfstar reported DuskClan’s assistance in driving off a fox, earning a sharp look from Archstar. She then mentioned the kits SaltClan had taken in and closed with the somber note of Fennelheart’s passing before wrapping up.

As the gathering broke apart, Wolfstar lingered, catching sight of Archstar leaning toward Jaggedstar, their sly tone cutting through the buzz of conversations.

“DuskClan has been awfully quiet lately. You never skipped mentioning a fox before, Jaggedstar,” they said.

Jaggedstar brushed past them without a word, but Archstar wasn’t finished. “What’s the matter? Fox got your tongue?”

The jab was loud enough to draw curious glances from nearby cats, who exchanged uneasy looks before quickly turning away.

Wolfstar stayed rooted in place, ears flicking as she watched the leaders disperse. Archstar didn’t seem interested in needling her tonight, but the tension between DuskClan and OakClan gnawed at her nerves.

Gathering her clan, Wolfstar noticed how few OakClan and DuskClan cats stayed behind to socialize. Most lingered only briefly before slinking away. HoneyClan, while present, seemed subdued as well.

“Let’s go,” she said quietly, flicking her tail to signal the group. “Something’s off, and I don’t like it.”

Her warriors murmured their agreement, their voices low as they followed her back to camp.

By the time they returned, the apprentices and kits were asleep, but Mallowstripe was still cleaning up the remains of the day’s work. He straightened as the group entered, padding over to touch noses with Wolfstar and Lynxdawn.

“Back already?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

“It was a short gathering,” Wolfstar replied, scanning the camp to ensure all her warriors had made it back. “I know I’m not the only one who noticed the strangeness from DuskClan.”

“You’re not,” Snowspeckle said, settling into a sitting position. “OakClan was acting odd too. They only brought their cleric apprentice—none of their usual senior clerics. Mousefoot and Fogdapple never miss gatherings.”

“They could be injured or sick,” Mallowstripe suggested.

Snowspeckle shook her head. “Mousefoot’s come to gatherings with a splint before. Besides, I saw him at the artisan knoll just a few days ago—he seemed fine.”

“They left early, too,” Wolfstar added. “And Archstar goaded Jaggedstar into a fight, accusing her of keeping secrets. When she didn’t respond, they said, ‘Fox got your tongue?’”

Shadowdive snorted. “I’m surprised she didn’t claw them.”

“I noticed something, too,” Nightleap said. Her tail curled around her paws as she spoke. “A lot of DuskClan warriors were whispering to each other while Jaggedstar was speaking. Normally, they’re so proud, but it was like she wasn’t even their leader.”

“What about Thornstrike?” Snowspeckle asked. “Jaggedstar was speaking with him before the gathering. They looked furious, and then he left entirely!”

“Well, everyone looks angry when they talk to Thornstrike,” Mallowstripe quipped, earning a few dry chuckles.

“True,” Wolfstar agreed before turning to Lynxdawn. “Did you see or hear anything with the other clerics?”

The blue-pointed molly hesitated, her gaze flickering to the side. “Crowpaw seemed nervous, and Frostwhisper was absent. But OakClan’s apprentice, Redpaw, was…concerning.”

“How so?” Wolfstar pressed.

Lynxdawn hesitated again before answering. “He stared at the stars the entire gathering. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at anyone else—not even after his clan left. He just sat there, watching the sky.”

“That’s… unnerving,” Snowspeckle murmured.

Wolfstar took a deep breath, her fur bristling with unease. “Alright. I’m glad we all noticed these odd behaviors, but for now, SaltClan needs to focus on its own borders.”

As murmurs of agreement rippled through the group, Wolfstar raised her tail, silencing them. “However, I’ll reach out to Rookstar and see if he’s noticed anything unusual.”

“I’ll try speaking to the other clerics again,” Lynxdawn offered. “But every time I bring up the strange dreams—or Lostclaw—they shut me down.”

Wolfstar shivered but quickly steadied herself. “Do what you can,” she said before dismissing the group.

One by one, her warriors retreated to their nests, but the unease of the gathering lingered, heavy in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Cat Allegiances:

Wolfstar- 20 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Ripplepaw.

Lynxdawn- 15 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Loving. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 31 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Playful→Thoughtful. Good singer.

Nightleap- 35 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner.

Mallowstripe- 21 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Fennelheart- 20moons. Warrior. Charismatic. Playful. Good hunter. Conditions: frost bitten tail. Green cough.

Shadowdive- 19 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice- Otterpaw.

Ripplepaw - 7 moons. Warrior apprentice. Bossy→Troublesome. Fearless. Never sits still. Mentor- Wolfstar. Conditions: Water in lungs.

Otterpaw - 7 moons. Warrior apprentice. Attention seeker→Insecure. Bouncy. Splashes in puddles. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Dropletkit- 2 moons. Skittish. Shy. Interested in clan history.

Kelpkit- 2 moons. Charming. Quiet. Plays in mud.

Coralkit- 2 moons. Noisy. Bossy. Never sits still.

Sandkit- 2 moons. Impulsive. Noisy. Moss ball hunter.

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination- Epilogue

The battle is over, the Veilguard was victorious. Now Rook has time to let herself live a life, and a man to live it alongside. He is her home and she is his. A small series of Rookanis moments set after the end of the main storyline of Veilguard.

This is Part One of a two-part epilogue! This part is Rookanis focused, while the next part will include everyone (and obviously still Rookanis). Enjoy!

Epilogue Part 1: So This is Love

Rook was humming lightly as she absentmindedly traced random symbols and shapes onto Lucanis’s bare chest. The two were laying on the infirmary bed that now lived in her room at the Lighthouse, still recovering both mentally and physically from the fight with Elgar’nan only a couple days previously. After the exhausting confrontation, the whole team had returned to the Lighthouse, where nearly all of them proceeded to sleep for 12 hours. It was only then that they ate dinner together and celebrated their victory, and mourned the loss of the missing member of the Veilguard together. It was cathartic, and Rook realized just how much her companions had become her family in such a short span of time. 

As of now, they were all still residing in the Lighthouse. Emmerich and Davrin however, already had plans to leave in a few days' time. Emmerich wished to return the the Necropolis to help in the funeral rites for the Mourn Watchers who had fallen in battle that night in Minrathous, and Vorgoth had requested his help with several other miscellaneous tasks, the descriptions of which Rook had completely failed to comprehend when Emmerich was explaining to her. She had been supportive regardless, after all, their mission was complete, and she was not his or any of their keepers. 

When she had said as much to Emmerich, he had smiled at her before saying, “Well my dear I suppose you’re right, but I have gotten used to following your lead. It feels odd to be leaving with no plans to return as a group.”

He had seemed emotional about the thought, and Rook had placed a hand on his shoulder before reassuring the older man, “We will all be together again at some point Emmerich, I’m not letting any of you disappear that easily, not after all we’ve been through.” 

Emmerich had brightened at that. “Yes! Splendid Rook! I’d love to invite everyone to have tea in the Memorial Gardens when we’ve all the time. I think it would be a wonderful backdrop to visit with friends.”

Rook had to fight back a snicker at the idea of Taash holding a teacup in the Memorial Gardens at the Necropolis. “I’m sure that will be lovely Emmerich.” Rook smiled at him, “I will definitely come to visit when I can, Manfred will miss me too much otherwise.”

Emmerich chuckled, “Oh yes, he’s already been upset as I’ve been packing. He doesn’t want to leave any of you behind. Change is still not easy for him, poor thing.” Emmerich seemed to perk up and looked at Rook with an excited expression, “Oh! And do invite me to the wedding, Rook! I wouldn’t miss you marrying Lucanis for anything!”

Rook sputtered and fell into a fit of coughing at THAT unexpected statement. Emmerich seemed concerned and patted her back lightly as she got control of her breathing back. “That isn’t- We haven’t- I don’t-” 

Emmerich waved off her many broken attempts at a response, “Oh don’t worry dear, Lucanis doesn’t seem like he would be keen on a huge ceremony, I’m sure you will be fine.”

Rook simply stared at him open-mouthed as he gave her shoulder a pat and bid her farewell as he returned to his packing as if he didn’t just send her into a confused fit. Classic Emmerich.

Davrin had told her that he and Assan were heading to meet with Evka and Antoine in Lavendel. Apparently, they had some pretty urgent news and wanted Davrin’s help. They had also inquired whether or not Rook was coming back, and when Davrin relayed the question to her, Rook had a tough decision to make. She truly didn’t have any desire to return to the Grey Wardens at this point, though she would miss the nights spent around a fire with Evka and Antoine. Rook simply couldn’t see a future within the Order for herself anymore. Once, she had wanted nothing more than to be like the Hero of Ferelden, now, she was exhausted and wanted to get away from the darkness. 

When Rook had said as much to Davrin, she was surprised at his reaction. He had laughed and told her he was glad she wouldn’t be returning, which had deeply offended her before he explained. 

“Rook, you’ve earned a break. You of all people deserve to live free of darkspawn and the blight for a while, and I don’t want to see you back in Lavendel, coming back to a tent every day covered in darkspawn blood. You answered when duty called, so now you need to rest, before the world needs you again.”

The elf had laughed as he said the last part, and only laughed harder when he saw her grimace in response. 

“Oh no.” Rook shook her head as she spoke, “No more world saving for me, I took my turn. It’s someone else’s problem next time some evil fuck decides they want to ruin the world.”

“As if you could say no when people’s lives are on the line.” Davrin smirked at her as she simply rolled her eyes in response. “People who become Grey Wardens by choice are usually not ones to shrink from conflict, especially when innocent people are getting hurt.”

Davrin then sobered again, looking at Rook seriously, “I mean it though, go live your life Rook. You don’t owe the order anything. Plus,” He shot her a sidelong glance and a grin, “I don’t think Lucanis is interested in becoming a Grey Warden.”

Rook flushed and shoved his shoulder. Then, she furrowed her brows and turned to look at him again. “What about Assan? His brothers and sisters are living in Arlathan now, I figured you two would go and stay there. I’m sure Eldrin could use the help wrangling twelve griffons.”

“That’s the plan, eventually.” Davrin said, smiling at the thought before turning back to her, “But Evka said they have news, and they could use my help. So Assan and I will go there first and see what they need.”

“I’m glad you’re moving on too, Davrin.” Rook smiled at her friend, “You deserve a life too.” She had hugged him after that, promising to visit him in Arlathan once he and Assan were settled there.

Neither Neve or Bellara had said anything about their plans for leaving yet, but given how Neve had desperately sprinted towards Bellara after the battle before pulling the shocked woman into a passionate kiss, Rook assumed they were probably going somewhere together. 

Taash hadn’t given any indication that they had a plan either, but Rook had elected to give them some space for a bit and let them come to her when they were ready.

Rook was pulled from her reverie when Lucanis’s hand moved to rest on top of her own that had been tracing his skin. Looking up, Rook’s cheeks heated. Lucanis was looking at her with a raised brow and a half smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, which was the exact look she received when she had been so spaced out she didn’t hear him speaking to her. 

“Are you with me, Rook?” Lucanis asked in a teasing tone once she had returned to the present moment. He was always patient when she “disappeared” into her mind. It happened often these days; she frequently found herself caught up in a thought or memory, and the rest of the world simply ceased to exist when this happened.

“Yes…” Rook responded sheepishly, feeling guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out, were you trying to get my attention long?”

“No.” He responded simply, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I just asked you a question and when you didn’t respond, I knew you were gone.” At her guilty look, he chuckled and gently grabbed her chin, coaxing her to look at him. “Rook, it doesn’t bother me, you don’t have to feel bad.” Lucanis smiled at her before adding, “I am well aware you’re not ignoring me on purpose, especially because you normally can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

Rook grinned and rolled her eyes, all traces of her anxiety gone now. “Well yeah, you are incredibly attractive. It’s not my fault, I’m only a woman.”

Lucanis was the one to roll his eyes at her this time, but he pulled her to him and kissed her gently. “I love you, Rook. I cannot imagine being anywhere but at your side, which brings me back to my question that you did not actually hear before.” 

Rook’s cheeks went pink again, both at the confession and at the fact that she had completely missed what seemed to be a relatively important question to Lucanis.

“Would you- I mean, what are your plans now?” Lucanis stumbled on the first few words, cursing himself for giving his nerves away immediately. He had been doing so well before.

Rook was surprised at Lucanis’s sudden shyness as he asked the question. He had cut his eyes away from her own after he began speaking which was odd. Lucanis valued eye contact with her normally. Then she digested what he had asked and understood. Rook mentally face-palmed for not having established her position sooner, but to her credit, everything over the last several weeks had happened very quickly. 

She waited for Lucanis to meet her eyes again before she answered. “Luca,” Rook began, smiling at his blush. The nickname was new, and she was pretty sure that he loved it even more than she did. “My only plans are going where you go. I figure you’ll want to return to Treviso soon, what with you being The First Talon and all. Pretty sure your fellow Crows are itching to have you back home.”

Lucanis stared at Rook with wide eyes and seemed to be speechless for a moment. Told you! Spite shouted from within his mind, making him flinch slightly. Rook stays with Lucanis and Spite, would not leave us! Belong with Rook! Okay, okay, Lucanis thought, trying to calm Spite down. Yes, you were right, please stop yelling. It gives me headaches, remember? Spite went quiet and Lucanis could feel his chagrin. …Sorry. Forgot. Did not mean to hurt Lucanis… It’s okay, Lucanis fought a smile at how far the spirit had come in understanding him. I know you didn’t mean it, just relax while I talk to Rook.

When Lucanis refocused his eyes, he realized Rook was watching him with a hand covering her mouth and eyes full of laughter. “What?” He asked, confused at her expression. “What is it?”

Rook gave him his favorite smile, the one that made butterflies erupt in his stomach. “I have been able to tell when you’re talking to Spite for a long time, but now I can tell when he’s yelling at you.” Rook giggled before continuing, “You get this scrunched look on your face and your lips get all pursed, and then your face just slowly relaxes after he calms down. It’s just funny how I can see you interacting, that’s all.” 

Lucanis snorted, of course Rook was focused on the weird thing his face was doing and not on his utter shock at her previous statement. He shook his head at her before returning to her answer to his question. “So… you said, you plan on coming with me? To Treviso?” He paused, “I just wondered… I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go back to the Grey Wardens. I mean, that was your life before this, right? Do you not wish to return?”

Rook just shook her head and grabbed his hand to begin massaging his palm as she spoke. “No, I don’t plan on going back. To be honest, I have no desire to return. I became a Grey Warden when I was 19 because I wanted to feel like I was serving a greater purpose. Plus, I had always been a relatively skilled fighter.”

Lucanis watched her with rapt attention as she spoke, she almost never referenced anything about her past beyond meeting Varric.

“But… after a few years, I started to become pretty disillusioned with the order. It was so much more political than I expected, then it should be. So after the incident at the village, when I joined Varric, I wasn’t really ever sure I’d go back. And now that this is over, now that I’ve killed enough darkspawn to last a lifetime, I will absolutely not be going back. I already talked to Davrin about it.”

Lucanis simply stared at Rook in shock. “You already… Is that allowed? I thought Grey Wardens were bound for life?”

Rook busted out laughing at that. “Lucanis,” Rook collected herself, the last few laughs trailing off, “The order doesn’t even officially have a leader up north at the moment. Evka is running the show for now. She’s not going to drag me back, and I’m pretty sure the Warden Commander isn’t going to show up at my door and force me to come back.”

Lucanis was still somewhat reeling at this point. Sure, he had been pretty certain that they would work something out in order to stay together, in fact, he had considered leaving his title behind and following her if that’s what it took. But, he had not been prepared for her to simply leave the wardens and join him in his home city. His heart swelled for the woman in front of him, and he had to fight to hold onto his composure. 

Lucanis was not entirely successful in this endeavor, and a huge smile made its way across his face. “You are going to come home with me, to Treviso.” His voice held a note of wonder, and he suddenly pulled her tightly to his chest in a crushing hug. Rook made a squeaking sound that evolved into laughter at his reaction. Lucanis didn’t even care if he was being ridiculous anymore, he simply held a laughing Rook to his chest as he listed off the things he would take her to do when they returned to Treviso. He’d take her back to Cafe Pietra, he would introduce her to his favorite stray cats around the city, take her to his favorite rooftop spot to look out over the city, and introduce her to his favorite restaurant for dinner. 

Lucanis continued his list to add taking Rook on a private gondola ride, but he stopped when she went still in his lap. “What is it?” Lucanis pulled away to look at her as he asked, immediately concerned.

“Well I- It’s just…” Rook desperately tried to come up with an excuse to play her reaction off, but gave up when she met his eyes. They were so full of warmth and love, and she realized that there was no reason to lie to him about it, especially if she was going to be with him in Treviso of all places. “I can’t swim…” Rook admitted in a small voice, looking down at her hands on her lap. “I never learned, and when I was 14 I almost drowned in a river near where my clan was staying. It was running fast because of all the snow melt, and I slid off a rock and fell in. If my friend hadn’t been there to get help, I would've died. Ever since, I just… avoid water when I can.”

Lucanis felt his mouth fall open at Rook’s admission, before quickly closing it when he realized how hard this was for her to admit to him. She’d never said a single word about it, to anyone as far as he was aware, the entire time they’d traveled together. Looking back, she had always seemed off when they were near bodies of water, and always went silent when they had to cross rivers and streams in Arlathan or the canals in Treviso. Then it really hit him, her room was surrounded by a fish tank that made it appear underwater.

“How have you been sleeping here??” It probably wasn’t the best initial reaction to Rook telling him about her fear, but he couldn’t help but blurt the question. Wasn’t this akin to torture or something?

“Hah… It took a few weeks for me to really be able to sleep a full night.” Rook rubbed the back of her neck. “I used a lot of sleeping potions for the first month or so. But it got easier.”

Lucanis was looking at her like she was crazy. “You… why not just move? Why stay here?” He couldn’t fathom this new information, knowing she was afraid of water… Then it hit him. Before Rook could even answer his questions, he said in a hushed voice, “The Ossuary…” Lucanis directed his full attention to her eyes, which had widened a bit at the intensity in his voice. “How… How did you even manage to get there? It was a lengthy boat ride in a tiny boat, and then you had to go under water! And stay there the entire time it took to get me out!”

Rook sighed. “It was awful, I won’t lie. I wanted to throw up the entire boat ride there and back. Once we were in, I was distracted with killing a bunch of Venatori so that helped a lot. And then I-” She broke off and flushed, “And then I was distracted by you so it was easier after we freed you or, I guess you kind of freed yourself.”

“Rook…” Lucanis whispered her name, looking at her incredulously. “I, you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. To be so afraid and still push through, the whole time pretending you aren’t afraid,” He shook his head in wonder, his eyes never leaving her, “I am so lucky.”

“Lucanis…” Rook looked incredibly embarrassed. “It’s not that big of a deal. You can’t really be afraid of water and still live as a Warden or lead a team like this one, so I just had to adjust. That’s it.”

“But-” Lucanis stopped himself and just smiled at her. “Okay. Fine, it’s only kind of impressive. Happy?” Rook responded by giving him a look, and he chuckled. “So, how about this: I teach you to swim. There’s plenty of places in Treviso that are good to learn in, I can take you to where I learned and teach you.”

Rook went pale. “Uh…” She began to form some kind of excuse when Lucanis stopped her.

“Rook, if you’re going to live in Treviso, which is filled with canals and surrounded by water on two sides, you should know how to swim. We won’t do too much too fast, we can start with just getting you used to the water. I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Rook still looked apprehensive, but slowly nodded her head. “O..kay, you can teach me.”

Lucanis looked pleased. “Thank you, Nyra. I know it's frightening, but I would hate you going anywhere in Treviso near deep water, knowing you can’t swim. You don’t have the best luck.”

Rook blew air out of her nose at that. “Understatement.” She muttered under her breath. Then she looked back up at Lucanis, “Speaking of going home to Treviso, when did you want to go back? Also, were you planning on just returning to the mansion?” This last statement was spoken with an edge to it, and she prayed Lucanis wouldn’t catch it. Of course, he did.

“I am ready to return whenever you are. If you’re ready to go, then we can return in a couple days after I write Teia, Viago, and Caterina. As for returning to the mansion…” Lucanis raised a brow as he studied her face, “Do you not want to live there? We can-”

“No!” Rook interrupted. “It’s not that I don’t want to live there, it’s just… Caterina also lives there. And she doesn’t know about me, and most likely wasn’t expecting someone like me to be the one you bring home. So I just worry, I don’t want things to be weird and I don’t want to start a fight between you and her and-”

It was Lucanis’s turn to cut her off. “Slow down Nyra, take a breath.” Rook stopped and did as instructed. “Good, now, first of all, Caterina will move to the guest house in the back. That has been the plan since I was young. When I was old enough to take over and had my own partner and family, she would move out of the main house. Secondly, I’m not sure Caterina would have a leg to stand on in terms of rejecting you, but even if she didn’t approve, it wouldn’t matter. She doesn’t make my decisions for me, and if she doesn’t like you, then she is not someone I want to spend my time with, blood or no.”

Rook looked relieved and sagged into Lucanis’s warm chest. “Oh good. Then I’m ready to go home with you as soon as possible. I really do hate this room.”

Lucanis threw his head back with a bark of laughter and fell back against the bed so that they were laying down once again. “Perfect, I will write to them later. Right now, I’m busy.” Rook felt her body heat and let herself melt into his kiss. Moving to his mansion in Treviso was definitely looking more and more appealing. 

************************************************************************

Two Months Later:

Rook regretted agreeing to swimming lessons as soon as Lucanis brought her to the small pond on the Dellamorte property where he had learned to swim as a child. Just looking at the body of water and knowing she was going to have to get in was making her feel ill.

“Why do I need to learn how to swim again? I have made it 27 years so far without and have been fine, very successful actually. I saved Thedas not knowing how to swim, so I’m probably good. Let’s just head back inside and we can-”

“Ah ah ah,” Lucanis cut her off as he pulled his loose-fitting tunic over his head. “You promised, remember? I’m pretty sure promising me anything is essentially the same as making a deal with a demon, so you’re locked in now, Nyra.”

“Yes!” Spite agreed, hissing out the words from Lucanis’s mouth before curling his lips into a smirk, “Rook promised! Cannot. Break her promise to us!”

“Fine, fine, okay.” Nyra agreed warily, still eyeing the pond with distaste, “A promise is a promise.” She gave Lucanis a sidelong glance, adding, “You’d better not let me drown, I’ll haunt you from the afterlife.”

Lucanis chuckled at the comment as Nyra finally began stripping her own clothes off. As soon as they were both down to their undergarments, Lucanis closed the distance between them and pulled Nyra towards the pond by her hand. She resisted weakly for a moment before accepting her fate when they arrived at the edge of the pond.

“Okay,” Lucanis began, “We’re just going to work on getting in the water, floating, and keeping your head above the surface today. Nothing crazy, and I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

“We will not. Let anything bad happen to Rook. We keep safe, Lucanis and Spite are good swimmers.” Spite added, the purple light in Lucanis’s eyes flashing as he pushed his way to the surface to speak before fading back to their warm brown color.

Nyra blew an anxious breath out in a huff, before nodding. Lucanis went first, pulling her gently behind him as he waded deeper into the pond. Nyra’s legs trembled a bit as she followed behind the assassin. The water crept further up with each step, and her anxiety grew with it. 

Get it together, she scolded herself, it’s water. Even the kids here can swim, you need to calm down. It was easier said than done though, and once the water reached her waist, Nyra stopped suddenly. Lucanis paused when he felt the sudden resistance and turned to look at the woman behind him. His eyes softened when he saw Nyra was standing completely still and stiff, with her eyes closed as she took deep breaths in and out in an attempt to relax.

Lucanis then took several steps back until he was standing right next to her, gently tracing his hand up and down her spine. He watched as her left eye cracked open slightly to see what he was doing, and was relieved when she seemed to relax at his proximity.

“Would it help if I walked the rest of the way next to you?” Lucanis’s voice was genuine and soft, and he fought back a smile at the way Nyra’s freckled cheeks pinkened in response.

“Uh… yeah, that- that would help I think.” Nyra stuttered out a response lamely. Gods, I’m so hopeless, she thought, cringing internally. Why is this so hard??? I’ve literally killed a god, and I can’t walk into a pond?

Lucanis pulled her out of her self-deprecating thoughts with a light squeeze to her waist after he had wrapped an arm around her back to help guide her forward.

“Get out of your head, Nyra. Just follow me and try not to focus so much on the water, I promise I’ve got you.”

Squaring her shoulders, Nyra gave him a nod and the two began moving deeper into the pond again. She was doing well, and was excited at her progress. Nyra turned to grin at Lucanis proudly, and opened her mouth to share her giddiness. Just as she turned her head to the side, her foot hit a slick patch of mud and got stuck under a small rock. She found herself suddenly falling backward into the water with a startled gasp.

As her head dipped below the surface, Nyra kicked her legs and sputtered. Her eyes burned and she closed them tightly, trying to fight back her panic. Just as soon as she had gone under however, there were strong arms hooked under her armpits, hauling her back above the water.

Nyra’s head broke the surface and she coughed as water dripped down her face from her bangs that were now plastered to her forehead. “Fuck!” Nyra said breathlessly as she re-oriented herself with her surroundings. Lucanis was looking at her with wide eyes and an anxious expression.

“Are you alright?” He looked her over and brushed her soaked fringe out of her eyes as she coughed lightly again. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you it gets slippery-”

Nyra cut him off and rendered him speechless as she began laughing. Her laugh rang through the empty space of the large property, and Lucanis grew concerned that she was having some kind of break.

“Nyra..?” Lucanis spoke again in a concerned tone, running his eyes over her head in search of a wound that would cause something like this intense shift.

Nyra finally caught her breath again and looked at Lucanis, who was shocked to see a smile on her face. “I’m such a mess.” she laughed again, “Only I would find a way to somehow get my head underwater in water this shallow.” Then she beamed at him, “But I didn’t die or completely freak out. And you got me up right away. I’m actually feeling much better about this now.” 

Lucanis stared blankly at her for a few beats before he also burst into laughter. “I cannot believe all it took to ease your anxiety was falling into the water. I would have just shoved you in at the beginning had I known this would be the outcome.”

Nyra swatted his shoulder, “Hey, no shoving. I’m still nervous and I don’t really want to have that particular adrenaline rush again today.”

“Okay,” Lucanis agreed, still laughing lightly, “No shoving. Are you ready to go deeper and try floating?”

Nyra took a deep breath and met his eyes, her own smoldering with a new determination, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

************************************************************************

Four Months Later:

Nyra was humming to herself as she finished brushing her hair, also giving her outfit one last once over in the mirror. Lucanis was taking her to Cafe Pietra, and then he planned to take her on a gondola ride (now that she could at least keep herself from drowning).

She smirked as she recalled his puppy dog eyes when he had asked her to let him take her on the small boat. 

“Nyra.” he had tried for the third time that week, “You cannot live in Treviso and have never taken a gondola ride! That’s practically a crime!”

“Good thing I only hang out with criminals these days then.”

He had groaned at her response and she just gave him a mischievous grin. Finally, she elected to take pity on him. She really didn’t have any major issues with the gondola, but Lucanis had been so insistent and brought it up so often, Nyra couldn’t resist messing with him.

“Fine Lucanis,” Nyra began and Lucanis’s face lit up with excitement, “You can take me on a gondola ride.” 

A huge smile split Lucanis’s face and he kissed her. “I can’t wait, I know you’re going to love it. You just-”

“Wait,” Nyra held up a finger, “You have to take me out for coffee at Cafe Pietra first. That’s my condition.” 

Lucanis stared for a moment before grinning again, “You’ve got a deal, I’m glad you thought of that actually.”

So now, here she was several days later, getting ready to head to the Cafe to meet Lucanis. He was already there, having had to meet with a couple Talons about some changes he was imposing on the Crows. Apparently these Talons were the most frustrating, so he was going to need an extra coffee AND plenty of affection from her to recover. Not that he’d ever tell her that, stubborn as he was.

Nyra continued to hum lightly as she walked through the market. She had an old Grey Warden tavern song stuck in her head, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she was missing Davrin, Antoine and Evka. She’d have to write them soon, Nyra decided.

She was so lost in thought, Nyra didn’t clock the man behind her who had begun to follow her after she passed the fruit stall. Nyra just wasn’t as vigilant as she used to be, the gods had been dead for over 6 months by now, and living with Lucanis in the Dellamorte manor meant she didn’t have to be too concerned about threats. The people of Treviso knew better than to fuck with the First Talon by trespassing.

This man however was drunk and stupid, so much so, he didn’t realize who the woman he had begun trailing behind was. He just saw a beautiful woman and decided he wanted her, a “classic scumbag” as Neve would say.

Nyra had reached the front of the cafe and began to head inside when an arm was suddenly barring the entrance in front of her. She frowned and turned to see who was denying her entry, and took a step back when she came face to face with the seedy looking man. He stank of shitty wine and body odor, and she could see how yellow his teeth were when he leered at her. 

“Heeeeey missss.” The drunk slurred, taking a step closer to Nyra, who took another step back to avoid being so close to him. She was getting a bad feeling, and discomfort began to stir in her stomach. This man did not have good intentions.

“You’re too pretty to be walking thessse streets alone.” The man continued, “Why don’t you let me walk you home, I’ll keep you niiiiice and safe.” 

Nyra flinched as he leaned forward. Mr. Disgusting took a deep breath, clearly trying to smell her as he moved his face towards her neck. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t knock him senseless, but she was too surprised and uncomfortable to think clearly or act. It was incredibly disturbing, and Nyra took another step back so that his face didn’t creep any closer to her neck.

“I’m not interested,” Nyra said in a cold tone, “I’m meeting someone here, and I don’t need assistance or want to go anywhere with you. Leave me alone, I won’t ask again.”

She fixed a glare on her face at the end of her sentence to solidify her point, but was horrified when the man simply laughed and shot his hand towards her, snatching her arm. His grip was painfully tight, and rage combined with a sick feeling coursed through her. Nyra made a fist with her right hand, about to punch this idiot’s lights out, when suddenly the man went flying and crashed into the brick wall, 20 feet behind him.

Mr. Disgusting groaned and cursed at her. “Dumb bitch, what do you-” 

He didn’t ever get to finish his sentence. Lucanis materialized in front of him so fast that Nyra’s eyes couldn’t track him, and broke the man’s neck in an instant, without hesitation. The square went silent for a moment, before a man, most certainly a Crow, left his spot against the wall and began dealing with the corpse. Lucanis said something quietly to the Crow, who nodded and whistled to a second man who came to help him take the body away. 

Conversation in the square resumed then, but Nyra couldn’t even hear it. Lucanis had turned to face her, his irises glowing a faint purple and smoldering with rage. They softened as soon as they met her own, and Lucanis was in front of her in a second. He began immediately running his hands lightly up and down her arms and looking for any sign of injury with a small frown and furrowed brow. Satisfied that she was unharmed, he muttered something in Antivan under his breath and pressed his forehead to hers. 

“I’m glad you’re safe. I was just sending the Talons away when I heard people start whispering about something happening just outside. Spite could tell you were there, and practically made my ears bleed with his shouting. I am grateful though, it made me move fast.” “No one. TOUCHES. Our Nyra. He made Nyra upset. Now he is dead. Wish we could kill him again.” Spite growled out the last part, causing Lucanis’s eyes to flash brightly and the air to take on a light electric charge, smelling of ozone.

“Easy Spite,” Lucanis murmured, “He’s dead. Calm down.” 

Nyra could practically hear Spite’s huff as the air around them settled. Then Lucanis finally addressed her directly.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he…” Lucanis trailed off, eyes growing murderous again.

“I’m fine!” Nyra said quickly, hand coming up to cup Lucanis’s face. “He was creepy, disgusting, and awful, but he didn’t touch me or hurt me. He just made my skin crawl and stomach churn, nothing a good cup of coffee won’t fix.”

Nyra forced a smile onto her face. She was fine, just still slightly shaken from the vile man’s sudden, forceful advances. She desperately didn’t want it to ruin their evening, especially since Lucanis was already tense from the meeting he had just finished.

“I will make you coffee at home then.” Lucanis’s look left no room for argument, not that Nyra even truly wanted to argue, she would much rather be home. “We have plenty of the coffee beans, and I’m sure you’re exhausted. We can take a gondola another day, they’re not going anywhere.”

Nyra nearly teared up at how well he knew her. She wanted to stay for him, but she preferred to go home after this experience.

“Okay.” Nyra said softly, smiling at the love of her life, “I like your idea better.”

“That’s because I’m a very smart man with fantastic ideas.” Lucanis smirked at her, before sweeping her up into his arms. 

Nyra let out a shocked squeak and her hands automatically found their way around Lucanis’s neck. “Lucanis!” she exclaimed in a whisper, “You don’t have to carry me, my legs aren’t broken!”

“I am aware I don’t have to carry you.” He said simply, and began to quickly weave his way back to their home. Lucanis’s tone said this wasn’t something that he was going to debate with her, so Nyra settled against him. His heart beat steadily under her ear, and she smiled. She may have had to fight gods themselves to get him, but finding Lucanis was the best thing that had ever happened to her. 

Feeling safe and grateful, Nyra drifted off. She had been tired before this whole confrontation, and she had barely been keeping her eyes open since Lucanis had picked her up.

Lucanis smiled down at the woman in his arms, watching her eyelids flutter and then stay closed. His own eyes faintly glowed, flecks of purple shining through his brown irises. “I love you more than anything in this world.” He whispered to her in Antivan, “I will never let anyone hurt you again.”

DATV Masterlist

[putschki1969]

Hello, I’m really glad to read your article and see that you’re speaking up for Kalafina. It wasn't until they disbanded that I realized I actually prefer Kalafina over YUKI.

I was really sad when YUKI kicked KEIKO out of FJS. If it was due to a scheduling conflict with Kalafina, then I can understand. However, when YUKI unfollowed HIKARU and KEIKO on Twitter, it clearly seemed like a personal decision, and I could feel she was angry.

There’s currently a trend online where YUKI is always seen as being right. No matter what she does, it’s considered correct, and anyone who dares to disagree is attacked by her fans. It's almost as if YUKI is treated like a goddess. Her fans tend to blame everything on SC and Kalafina, as if YUKI is the victim in all of this. I don’t think that’s right. Clearly, it’s the three members of Kalafina who have been the most hurt.

Although I don’t know what exactly happened between them, looking back, when WAKANA stayed with SC, she was criticized by fans for many years. HIKARU followed YUKI out of SC and has been largely neglected all these years. I can’t help but wonder, was WAKANA really in the wrong? Maybe SC wasn’t as bad as fans made it seem. WAKANA seems to have been living well these years.

The revival of Kalafina was not only the wish of the three members but also the wish of the fans. KEIKO and HIKARU have asked YUKI multiple times to bring Kalafina back, but it never happened. It’s been seven years, and they’ve waited long enough. Now, there’s a company that can make this wish come true, which also fulfills the fans’ wish, and everyone should be happy about it. Yet, YUKI is upset. Fans are even blaming SC, which I don’t understand. Does YUKI see them as her instruments, and if they don’t obey, she just discards them?

But they aren’t instruments—they are people, and they have the right to make their own choices. YUKI’s fans seem to think YUKI is all-powerful, and that it wouldn’t matter if she replaced all the vocalists; she would still make a lot of money. But I believe the three of them are irreplaceable, and FJS is no longer the same as it once was.

The worst outcome would be if Kalafina can’t reunite, but no matter what, I hope they live good lives. I will always support them, and I believe they will do just fine, even if they leave YUKI.

💯

Honestly couldn't have said it better, I 100% agree with everything in your message.

For me, the members of Kalafina have always come first and I've never made a secret out of that. While I do respect Yuki Kajiura for her craft and contributions to the group, I certainly don't see her as some sort of sacred being completely exempt from any form of criticism.

We are seeing a very typical case of celebrity worship here. Someone as talented and accomplished as Yuki Kajiura is naturally idolised by her fans. There's nothing wrong with looking up to a person and admiring them but once you put them on a pedestal and are convinced that they can do no wrong, it becomes an issue. And before anyone is trying to accuse me that I am doing the same with Kalafina, I am actually not. Do I love them? Of course! Do I feel protective of them? Sure! Do I try my best to see the good in everything they do? Yup! But I will never pretend that they have no bad qualities or that they are incapable of making mistakes.

I honestly don't understand how anyone who has been around for all the drama during the past seven years, can still believe that Yuki Kajiura and her team are completely innocent and are not at fault for anything that has happened. People need to become aware that a feud like this doesn't continue for such a long time if only one involved party is petty and difficult. It is so plain to see that Yuki has always been part of the problem and the current situation with Keiko makes it even more obvious. The higher-ups at Space Craft aren't victims here and neither are Yuki or her Mori guy. They can continue their childish fighting until the day they die for all I care but I wish they'd stop using the Kalafina members as cannon fodder to get one over on the other.

Everyone is always so quick to come to Yuki's defense as if she weren't the most powerful person among everyone involved. She doesn't need anyone's help, she's more successful than ever, she gets to do whatever she wants, she is well-respected in the industry and continues to be hired for prolific jobs, as far as she is concerned, her separation from Space Craft was probably the best thing that could have happened to her. At no point was her reputation ever at risk of being tarnished, it was always Space Craft (and the girls) who got the short end of the stick. So why is she still being framed as the victim (by herself and her fanbase)? I don't know.

In my opinion, those who see the Kalafina members as nothing more than replaceable instruments automatically disqualify themselves as Kalafina fans. You can call yourself a Yuki Kajiura fan all you want but don't even pretend to know anything about Kalafina. My only hope is that those people stay far away from my little fandom corner because I will not stand for this sort of attitude.

We don't know if Kalafina will reunite after this, I'd certainly hope so. Right now, I hope they can focus on their solo activities and do something that makes them happy. As long as we support them, things will be fine.

[girlkisser13]

being married to shoko ieiri would include

• shoko is not a morning person at all, so if you’re an early bird, you’ll usually be the one making breakfast while she groggily leans against the counter, sipping coffee with half-lidded eyes.

• if you’re a night owl like her, expect lazy mornings where neither of you want to get out of bed.

• if she’s had a particularly long night, you like to bring her coffee in bed, and as a thank you, she presses lazy kisses against your collarbone.

• she has a bad habit of overworking herself, often staying at the morgue or tending to injuries for far too long. you’re the only person who can convince her to take a break, dragging her away for food or a nap when she’s been running on fumes.

• shoko is the most unorganized person you know. she leaves little messes everywhere— discarded cigarette packs, half-read books, scattered notes from medical cases.

• if you’re more organized, you’ll likely be the one tidying up after her, while she shrugs and calls it "controlled chaos."

• she likes to rest her feet in your lap whenever you’re sitting on the couch together. it’s her way of claiming your space without making a big deal out of it.

• physical affection with shoko is subtle but constant. she’s not big on grand romantic gestures, but she’s always leaning against you, nudging your knee with hers, or resting her chin on your shoulder when she’s standing behind you.

• when she’s drunk, she gets extra clingy, slumping against you and murmuring how much she loves you, her usual deadpan demeanor slipping into something much softer.

• she’s got a dry, teasing humor, and half her declarations of love sound sarcastic— "ugh, i guess i love you or whatever"— but there’s always real warmth behind her words.

• when she’s feeling affectionate, she’ll run her fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when she’s sleepy or lost in thought.

• she has a bad habit of stealing your clothes, especially oversized hoodies and shirts, because they smell like you and they’re comfortable. if you try to call her out on it, she just smirks and acts like she has no idea what you’re talking about.

• late-night conversations in bed are a must. shoko rarely opens up, but with you, she shares the weight of her responsibilities, the things she’s seen, the losses she carries.

• shoko is fiercely independent and needs her own space sometimes, but she also loves knowing you’re there. you don’t have to entertain her or constantly talk; just being in the same room, existing together, is enough.

• she doesn’t make a huge deal out of the idea of marriage itself, but when she commits, she commits. you don’t have to worry about her heart straying— when she’s yours, she’s yours.

• she can be a little emotionally distant at times— not because she doesn’t care, but because she’s used to handling things alone. being married to her means slowly breaking down those walls and showing her that she doesn’t have to carry everything by herself.

• if you get married in a more traditional sense, don’t expect her to care too much about the planning. "as long as there’s alcohol, i’m good," she says.

• you’ll probably have to be the one making most of the decisions while she just shows up, looking unfairly gorgeous in whatever outfit she throws together last minute.

• she never makes a big deal out of anniversaries, but she always remembers them. instead of grand gifts, she surprises you with something meaningful— a book you mentioned once, a rare night off where she takes you out for drinks, or just a quiet evening where she lets herself be fully present with you.

• shoko doesn’t like unnecessary drama, so fights with her are usually brief. if she’s upset, she’ll let you know in her usual blunt way, but she’s not one to yell or hold grudges.

• if you’re the one who’s mad, she’ll give you space at first, but if you stay quiet for too long, she’ll nudge you with a sarcastic, "still mad? Should I start writing my will?"

• she apologizes in her own way— maybe by bringing home your favorite drink, running her fingers through your hair when she thinks you’re asleep, or pulling you into a loose hug and murmuring, "don’t be mad. you know i love you, right?"

• shoko loves slow, sleepy kisses in the morning, the kind where neither of you are really awake yet and everything feels warm and hazy.

• she has a habit of tracing random patterns on your skin absentmindedly, whether it’s on your arm, your back, or your thigh.

• if you’re stressed, she’ll plop down beside you, pull you into her lap, and run her fingers through your hair until you relax.

• she’s the type to initiate a make-out session lazily, pulling you in by your collar and murmuring, "come here," before kissing you slow and deep.

• when you’re lying in bed together, half-awake or just enjoying a moment of quiet, you find yourself lightly tracing over her beauty mark with your fingertip. she pretends not to notice, but if you stop, she’ll shift closer, subtly inviting you to keep going.

• you’ve made a habit of pressing a gentle kiss just beneath it, especially when you’re feeling affectionate. the first time you did it, shoko rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. now, she’s completely used to it— maybe even expects it.

• if you ever want to reassure her or just remind her how much you love her, you simply brush your thumb over it. it’s a small, intimate gesture that doesn’t need words, but shoko always understands.

• if she ever gets ready in the morning and absentmindedly covers it with makeup, you dramatically gasp and act betrayed. "how dare you hide my favorite thing?" she laughs and flicks your forehead before wiping it off just to humor you.

• if you’re sick or injured, she switches into full doctor mode— cool, efficient, but also quietly concerned. she’ll check your temperature, bring you medicine, and stay by your side, though she’ll act like it’s no big deal.

• on the flip side, if she is sick, she’s the worst patient ever. complains the whole time, insists she’s fine, and grumbles if you try to take care of her. but if you insist, she’ll eventually give in and rest her head in your lap with a muttered, "you win."

• shoko isn’t the best cook, so meals are either takeout or something you make. if you force her to help, she’ll dramatically sigh about how you’re torturing her.

• she’s incredibly low-maintenance but appreciates it when you do small things for her, like making sure she eats properly or reminding her to take breaks from work.

• she pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, she secretly likes that someone cares enough to nag her about it. <33

[justdrawlynn11]

MaSm Seeds Au: A Change of Plans..

Set up: Sun was only distancing himself from Moon(and Foxford, but he’s unimportant) ever since he laid that STUPID egg… Moon had an idea of how to deal with it.

Warning: Mentions of attempted murder

Moon had just the solution to fix this… drink an invisibly potion, sneak into Sun’s room, and CRUSH that dumb egg while Sun’s sleeping… nothing could go wrong..

Sure Sun might be a BIT upset, but everything’s felt weird for a week now and Moon wanted it to stop.

Though Moon and Foxford were planning on staying up throughout the night, they let Sun go home and get a long rest… it would be the perfect time for Moon to do it..

Moon waited until the world could confirm Sun was asleep before entering Sun’s room. [1/3 players are resting]

It was time.

Moon entered the room… it was a little dark but it wouldn’t interfere with Moon’s plan to- …Egg shells… on the edge of the bed.. they looked like they were from that egg that Sun’s been practically hugging since he laid it last week- why were there egg shells there?!…

Moon looked towards Sun, who was resting in a slightly odd position compared to normal… he looked closer and- are those tiny rays over there?!- You could barely see it from where Moon was standing.

Moon quietly moved closer to the head of Sun’s bed… it was a baby…. so small… so helpless… so easy to end. Before he didn’t have to worry about this thing making noise and now it’s making those little newborn baby grunts every time it moves?!?

No worries… Moon can still do what he was planning to do. He grabbed out his sword… no that’s overkill- he grabbed a scrap of blade from one of his broken swords.. that’d do just the trick. He reached for the hatchling, he lightly tapped the thing’s ray when- oh no-nononO it’s crying- Sun’s going to get up now-

Sun woke up, not seeing the invisible Moon in front of him or the potion effects from being tired. He started to gently shush the baby, trying his best to calm them.

The hatchling was upset… maybe they were hungry?… how or what do you even feed a hatchling?! Maybe milk could work but… there’s no way they could drink it straight from a normal glass bottle..

The bottle’s probably BIGGER than the hatchling if Sun was honest here-

Sun: “Shhhh….shhhhh… I know, I know… give me a moment to figure something out for you…” Moon: (Great… there goes THAT plan. I need to figure out ANOTHER time to-) Hatchling: “Whe-Waaaaaa *hic* ahhhhh”

The baby continued to cry, they wrestled in their blanket like they couldn’t get comfortable.

Sun: “Oh no.. oh dear did I wrap you too tight in the blankie for… for your wings? Oh I’m sorry, let’s just fix that and try to fix this feeding problem…” Moon: (It’swhatnow?)

Moon watched as Sun un-swaddled the hatchling… it had wings… why-HOW did it have wings?!? Sun didn’t have any so why did his spawn have them?!

Sun seemed to have noticed something looking at the hatchling. Sun: “Heh… I finally get a peep from your eyes and…. they’re just like his.. of course…” Moon: “…”

Moon: (like… who’s…?)

Moon looked closely as the hatchling’s eyes were barely opened… red and blue.. just like his…

…

…just like his….

Why were they just like his…?

This doesn’t make sense!- WHY does Sun’s baby have HIS eyes and wings?!? What was going on?!? There’s no reason why he should have any relation to-

Last week… last week they had those seed things and Sun’s been weird ever since!- but- HOW- there wasn’t any information on this!…

…

But that means… that thing is his kid too…

…

Why should that matter?! It’s distracting Sun!- it’s going to make his life miserable- it’s… it’s resting calmly in Sun’s arms… Sun looks so full of a love that Moon’s never seen… but…

Sun’s crying…

Sun: “I’m so…so sorry little baby…I-I don’t know what to do!… I don’t want you to get hu-hurt..” Sun started to quietly sob to himself… his baby resting peacefully in his arms…

Was Sun.. scared…?

Even though he wanted to try to help calm Sun down, Moon didn’t want to startle him.. or the baby… so he just sat there…

Getting rid of it right now would only hurt Sun..

Maybe this baby could stay around for a bit longer…

(Note: MaSm Sun and Moon are established to NOT be related)