#it's just that i came this far in the process and now it's still uncertain and i dont want to let it go at all

[kimmkitsuragi]

ahhh.

[bobateaboo]

I wrote a little oneshot off of @naffeclipse 's fic, Eating Krill. I couldn't get the story out of my head, DEFINITELY go read it if you hadn't.

After your last experience with a human vessel, the two of you steered well enough away from it.

You’d made it very clear that that was the plan; you’d practically forbidden Eclipse from even looking at it, enduring his teasing about how you worried about him as a result. Truth be told, putting up with his goading was the most difficult part of the process, and even that wasn’t too bad; the ship came, stayed in one spot by the ice for half a day, and then left as quickly as it had arrived, leaving your waters peaceful and calm. In fact, it took almost a full week to realize that it had left something behind. A few somethings, actually.

“Little Krill,” Eclipse sang. “I have something to show you. Come.”

He laughed at the face you made as he scared away the school of small fish you’d been pursuing. Learning to hunt without your family has been… difficult. You couldn’t catch the type of things you were used to with such a small pod, was the simple fact of the matter. A fact Eclipse was infuriatingly thrilled about, practically jumping for the opportunity to bring you “real” kills. It would have been adorable if not for the smug look on his face every time you ate something he caught.

“Something to show me?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow as he beckoned you to follow. “What kind of something?”

Eclipse hummed. “I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

He was right, to a degree. What now sat upon the expanse of great white, like a drop of jet black blood in the snow, was some kind of… enclosure. You opened your mouth to question it, before Eclipse held up one hand to call for your silence. You very nearly bit him for the offense before you saw why; two figures, small and wrapped from head to toe in furs, exiting the enclosure. Grabbing Eclipse by the wrist, you yanked him beneath the surface with a quiet splash, hunkering down to speak where you were hidden by the shelf of ice.

“You will not go near them,” you ordered as soon as you surfaced. 

“They have no nets, little krill,” Eclipse argued, his voice velvet against the shards of ice around you. “What could they do to something like me?”

“I have no intention of finding out,” you said hotly, making a point to tower over him. “Leave them be, do you understand?”

Eclipse laughed at you, tugging you farther down into the water where he could plant a kiss on your cheek. “You’re darling when you worry,” he told you.

Despite his taunting, he stuck to his word; the sea remained icy cold and still, and the two of you stuck far away from the humans.

Unfortunately, they were much less careful to steer away from you.

“They’re like hungry gulls,” Eclipse growled the third or so time you had to move away from them, flicking his tail. “Showing up every time we stop to have a meal.”

“They’ll leave before long,” you insisted, though you were growing uncertain. “How long can just two of them survive in this cold, anyway?”

“Last I checked, far shorter than they have,” he sulked.

Part of you was inclined to agree. More and more, these humans were starting to remind you of that young seal you’d once stolen from his clutches; ignorant and flailing, unaware of how you stood between them and their demise at Eclipse’s waning patience. And your own, if you were being honest; every time they stepped close to the waters edge your eyes narrowed, watchful for them to cast the nets that had stolen your father and almost stolen your mate from you.

Yet, they never did. Though they lingered far longer than was wise, they didn’t cast anything into your waters for weeks, and when they did, it wasn’t a net.

Eclipse's eyes narrowed at the metal rod that sank just a few feet below the surface, held there by a cable the humans had tossed out. You caught his eye to shake your head at him; whatever that was, you would be the one to investigate. As much as you loved Eclipse, you didn’t trust him not to make rash decisions.

You swam closer, waving him off to linger back (to his obvious displeasure). As far as you could see, it wasn’t much; just a metal rod with a black dot on the side near the end, as harmless as it was confusing.

And then the dot lit up red, and the water sparked with electricity.

The scream that tore from your throat robbed your lungs of oxygen, leaving you seeing stars and immobile in the water. Something wrapped around your fins and tail, leaving you to gasp at open air as the net slowly, gruelingly pulled you out of the water and struggled to shove your weight onto the ledge.

It was the first time you’d seen humans up close, much less these ones. They were… small. Far smaller than you’d expected. The furs they wrapped themselves up in accounted for the vast majority of their bulk, you couldn’t imagine how lithe and skinny they must be without them. In front of them, a few feet away from the edge, sat a wiring box of metal, groaning in effort as it wound up the cable of the net to draw you closer. They looked calmer than you’d expected, despite the fear behind their eyes. Grim, even.

And then Eclipse burst out of the water, and their expressions melted into cold shock.

His claws hooked into the net, tearing you away from the edge with strength the shock had stolen from you and back into the water. He snarled as he held you above water, his face a mask of bloodlust and rage. 

“You insolent fools, have you not taken enough?” he spat, throwing the rod with enough force that the taller of the two humans had to throw himself out of the way to avoid being hit. “Your blood will spill for this, daring to attack what is mine.”

“Eclipse,” you rasped. Even to you, your voice sounded pained, your vocal cords feeling dry in your throat. “Leave them.”

His face changed, lighting at the sound of your voice but darkening with confusion and frustration. “Look at what they did to you,” he snarled.

“Leave them,” you insisted, looking up at him. “I mean it.”

For a long, tense moment, he hesitated, torn between loyalty to your word and to your honor. And then, he ducked you both underneath the waves, carting you away to snap off the lengths of net one by one.

“I don’t like this,” Micheal muttered, leaning over Vanessa’s shoulder. The light of the computer was near blinding in the dark room, flipping over and over between photographs of their encounter from the camera he’d had hidden in his jacket. “You told me the books said orcas and humpbacks were natural enemies.”

“They did,” murmured Vanessa, stalling on one of the pictures. “So either they were wrong, or this is a special case.”

Micheal made a face. “I don’t like either of those.”

“It doesn’t matter what you like, it matters what’s happening,” she argued. “If two of them are here, it’s reasonable to assume they have a larger pod, possibly with more of both species. So, we prepare.”

Micheal took a deep breath, handing her a cup of cocoa. “I don’t like this.”

“No,” she agreed, staring for longer at the last picture. It was of you, held aloft in Eclipse’s arms, the moment before you’d told him to leave them be. “No, I don’t like it either.”

[flutteringphalanges]

Protostar

Adam Warlock x Star Lord!Sister Reader

Prompt: You’re pregnant. The very thought of it is so surreal. And more importantly, it’s Adam’s. Now not only do you have to break the news to the man you love, uncertain of how he will react, but then there are the rest of the Guardians too. And more importantly, your brother, Peter. 

Word Count: 3,878

A/N: Hello! I am back again with another Adam Warlock x Reader baby themed one shot! I will add a link to this one to the post that has all of my one shots to this series so far. Requests are open! I’m currently working on one at the moment! Any thoughts of any kind, my comments and mailbox are open! I hope you enjoy! -Jen

                                                     Protostar

Pregnant. A word that had seemed so foreign to you up until now. An aspect you hadn’t even begun to fathom would happen to you. And yet here you were, sitting far off from the hustle and bustle of Knowhere’s square trying to clear your mind. Trying to think through haze and churning from your own stomach as you processed it all. Wondering how you would announce it to Adam. So lost in your head you didn’t even notice when Kraglin took a seat beside you. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

Kraglin had been like an older brother to both you and Peter. Though, your relationship was a little better at the time because, growing up, he felt as if he needed to compete with the boy from Terra for Yondu’s approval. That had changed though. Now the three of you were equally close. You looked over to him, not too sure what to say. In all honesty, he was the last person you’d imagined to break the news to first. 

“I don’t know.” You responded softly with a shrug. “I haven’t decided, I guess.” 

“What’s wrong?” Kraglin asked, his tone slightly concerned. “Did something happen? Is it Adam?” He paused, his expression more serious than you’re used to. “Did he do something?” 

He did, but technically so did you. You exhaled, wondering why you didn’t stay cooped up in the confinement of your room. That way you could’ve at least hid from it all a little longer. Pretend that everything was as it should be. You wished Adam was here, he had a way of making you feel better. Then again, maybe it was better that he wasn’t. 

“Y/N?” Kraglin’s voice snapped you back into reality. You turned and looked at him as he placed a hand on your knee. “Uh, you want me to get Pete?” 

“NO!” The word came out much sharper than you meant it to causing Kraglin to visibly flinch. “Sorry, I mean, no…that’s okay.” 

The last thing you needed was your brother. Peter was overprotective, he had always been. Even though you two were adults, he was still annoying when it came to you and relationships. When you and Adam first got together, he made it clear to you that he wasn’t exactly supportive of it all. Sure, the guy had saved him from literally turning into a human icicle in space, but he was still wary from the Rocket fiasco. That was something that you knew would take a long time to repair. At this point you were lucky he was tolerating it all and not getting on your case. If he knew you were expecting…well, you didn’t know how he’d take the news. 

“Can I trust you, Kraglin?” You asked, knowing full well there was no turning back after saying something like that. “Swear on Yondu you won’t say anything? Especially to Peter?” 

Kraglin looked at you with such uncertainty it was almost comical. Almost. “Yeah…” He replied with hesitation. “Cross a Ravanger’s heart.” 

You nodded, looking at the ground. “I’m pregnant.” 

“...Oh.” He said after a moment, shifting awkwardly where he sat. “...Is it Adam’s?” You threw him a dark look that caused him to hold up his hands defensively. “I’m sorry! It’s just well…congratulations? I mean, this is good, right?” 

You let out a loud groan and covered your face. “I don’t know!” The words came out muffled from behind your hands. “You’re the only one who knows.” 

“I’m honored! Thanks!” 

“Only because you showed up here.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh. Kraglin didn’t deserve it. “I’m sorry, Kraglin, I’m…I’m not trying to take this out on you. Maybe it’s the stupid hormones, I don’t know. I found out today and I’m not processing it well, I guess.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He offered, and you felt his hand rest on your shoulder. “I don’t know nothing about having babies, but if there is something you like, maybe a glass of water, or a blanket? Wait, that may be for shock…” 

For the first time that day, you actually smiled. Sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder what Kraglin might’ve become if he hadn’t ever joined the Ravangers. You leaned forward and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Just your support is nice.” You told him, inhaling deeply. “Thanks.” 

“Well sure, we may be Guardians now, but we'll always be Ravangers at heart.” Kraglin grinned at you when you pulled back. “And Ravangers take care of our own. Well, except when we don’t, but you know what I mean. We’re family. All of us here. I guess what I’m tryin’ to get at is we’ve got your back. Adam’s a great guy, I mean, he did almost wreck all of Knowhere--”

“Kraglin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, what’s in the past, is in the past. He turned out to be a great guy, right? Saved Pete, helped fix up a mess, managed to even join the Guardians. That’s somethin’, right?” He took a deep breath. “I don’t need to be able to read minds or do that emotion thingy that Mantis does to know Adam loves you. Like a whole lot.”

“I know he does.” Your smile was soft. “It’s more than mutual.” 

“So it’s gonna be alright, okay? When have I ever lied to you?” Kraglin asked with a grin.

You gave him a look. There were not enough fingers on each hand for you to count the number of times both he and your brother had pulled some stunt on you. All relatively harmless, but you had learned not to be so gullible since. 

“I need to go find Adam.” You told him, dusting off what little dirt had gotten on your pants. “He’s probably worried. Last thing I need for him is to go hunt Peter down. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to approach that one.” 

“No matter what, Pete’ll come around. He always does.” Kraglin tried to assure you. “He got used to you and Adam. This is just another thing added on.” A big thing. 

It was becoming apparent that, for the time being, you needed to focus on one thing--telling Adam. The rest you could try to get yourself to stop worrying about until later. You pulled Kraglin one last time for a quick squeeze. 

“Thank you, Kraglin. For everything.” 

“That’s what family’s for.” He said with a smile. “Even if we ain’t exactly a normal bunch.” 

                                                         XXX

The nausea you felt the moment you stepped over the threshold and into your room was not from the baby. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just turn back and find a new spot to hide in, somewhere where no one could find you. But Blurp, Adam’s beloved furry F’saki, immediately bounded over and pounced excitedly at your legs. 

“Hey, buddy.” You said, giving the animal a half smile as you reached down to scratch it behind one of its ears. “It’s good to see you too.” 

“Y/N!” 

Adam came bounding in with a mixed look of concern and relief at your arrival. You straightened up as he walked over to you, his hands immediately reaching and cupping your face as he studied you carefully. You felt as if you were a piece of fruit being checked for bruises by a potential customer. 

“Are you alright? I was worried. You weren’t here when I returned and I kept waiting, but you didn’t leave a note--and I know that you can take care of yourself, as you’ve said before--”

“Adam.” You said, cutting him off. “I’m fine.” 

He beamed at your response and looked down at Blurp. “See, I told you everything was fine. No need to get anyone else involved or form a search party.” The creature gurgled and nudged your leg. 

“But, Adam, we do need to talk…” His expression changed to one of confusion as you took a step back. “It’s important.” 

“Oh?” He responded, following you as you took a seat on the edge of your bed. “What do you want to talk about? Should I be worried?” And his laugh was nervous--making your own anxiety that much worse. 

“I don’t know.” Probably not the best answer to give him. “I mean…I don’t know how you will feel about this.”

Gods, if you could have any power in all the universes, invisibility would’ve been great. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Adam as you feel his hand take yours. Tears started to well up in your eyes and suddenly you found yourself flooded with emotions. Damn hormones. 

“Y/N, my love, what’s the matter? Don’t cry! Tell me what I must do!” Adam was cupping your face once more, searching your eyes for answers. “Have I done something wrong? If I have, please tell me and I will make amends. Please, say something, you’re scaring me.” 

You shook your head and hiccuped. “You didn’t…you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m…” The deep breath you took was shaky, and you could only hope you didn’t look as gross as you sounded. “Adam, I’m pregnant.”

The silence that blanketed the room made you want to crawl over into a corner and die. This was it. Adam was going to get up and leave you and everything would fall apart. The Guardians would banish you from the team. From your family. Knowhere was exile you. You would have no one and nothing and Thanos might as well have snapped you for good. 

“I’m going to be a father?” 

The words snapped you back into reality. Through tears, you looked and saw Adam gazing at you with such glee and adoration it sort of caught you by surprise. You sniffed, wiping your face with your sleeve--nevermind how unattractive it must’ve looked, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You answered him softly. “You’re going to be a dad.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “I never had a father.”

The corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile at his statement. “...I don’t remember my mom.” 

“...Do you think I could be a good father?” Adam asked slowly, his gaze burning into yours. He sounded hopeful. 

“Yeah.” You said with a smile. “I know you’d be a wonderful dad. There is not a doubt in my mind that says otherwise.” There was hesitation in your voice as you asked the next question. “Do you think I’d be a good mom?”

Adam chuckled warmly. “You already are to good, old Blurp right here.” Blurp trotted over and jumped into your lap, licking excitedly at your face. “See? Even he approves, and he is very particular too.” 

“I can see that.” You laughed, carefully moving the dog onto the mattress. Sighing, you gazed into Adam’s eyes, getting lost in their golden pools. “Are you happy then? Are you…okay with this?” 

Adam said nothing as he leaned forward and kissed you. You allowed your arms to wind around his neck as one of his arms hooked around your waist and pulled you close. Nothing sounded better than staying in that moment for all eternity. The warmth and gentleness of it all. You almost had to fight the urge to pull him back in when he stopped.

“I have never been more certain of something in my entire life.” Adam said with so much pride your heart swelled. “And I will love this child as I do you, Y/N. You are--well, now it is two of you I suppose, the most important things in my eternal life. I will do better than my best to be the very best! I swear it.” 

You chuckled, sniffing as you beamed back at him. “That was quite the speech.”

“Was it what you wanted?” Adam inquired, wiping away at a stray tear that’d begun to slide down your cheek. “Are you okay? Perhaps I should’ve asked that first.” 

Even though it would be months until you felt anything, you rested your hand on your stomach. You began to imagine the sensation, what little movements, kicks, flutters your baby would give you. Your baby. Adam’s baby. Gods, it sounded so surreal and yet, so right. 

“Yeah.” You inhaled, your gaze deep as it met Adam’s. “I’ve never felt happier.”

                                                           XXX

“We need to tell them.” 

Adam’s voice was soft as his hand gently rubbed your back from where he knelt beside you on the floor. Your head hung over the toilet as you tried to fight back the wave of nausea that stirred in your stomach. Morning sickness, more like ‘all day sickness’. It had been a week since you had broken the news to Adam--and technically Kraglin--about the baby. From the get go, he had wanted to tell the others but you had sworn him to secrecy. You still were avoiding sharing the unexpected pregnancy announcement with your brother. But now, with how violently ill your body had decided to start becoming, you weren’t really left with any options. 

“Maybe we can just wait until they’re born.” You mumbled weakly, the bitter taste of bile coating the inside of your mouth. “Spring it on them then.” 

“I don’t think that would be the best idea--or even possible.” Adam responded, frowning softly when you waved away at the glass of water he tried to coax in your hand. “They’re starting to worry about how sick you’ve been. And you already told Kraglin.”

“That wasn’t in my original plans.” You answered somewhat defensively. “Besides, there’s a big difference between him and Peter knowing. The others I’m not as worried about. I’m his little sister, but he forgets I’m not so little anymore. Like a lot.” Your stomach gurgled and you heaved a big sigh. “I can take care of my damn self.”

“I know.” And the palm of his hand began to knead between your shoulder blades. “But the sooner we get it over with, the better you will feel about it. And you aren’t alone in this. I’m right with you. We’ll tell them together and it will go over well, I promise.” 

                                                    XXX

The last time you saw a look like the one Peter was giving you now was when you accidentally dropped his Walkman as a kid and it fell between the grates of Yondu’s ship. How he managed to get it back out before it slipped to its eternal demise, you were unsure--or cared. But this look was not about any sort of music box. Oh no, this was something much greater. 

“...You’re pregnant?” Peter asked slowly, eyes flashing from you to Adam. “As in having a baby? Together?” 

“Yes, I am.” Before anyone could speak up, you quickly added. “And we’re happy too. Really happy.” Adam’s arm found its way around your waist offering a sense of comfort that you needed. “And since we’re family, we were hoping that maybe you all would feel the same way.” 

The silence was killing you. The way they were all watching, Peter especially, you almost wanted to curl up into a ball and beg Adam to fly you back to your room. Try again on another day. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around, followed by a squeal. 

“I am VERY happy for you!” Mantis gushed, beaming at you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Adam nervously watching, probably concerned with how tight she was hugging you. “Oh this is such good news!” 

Drax broke into one of his deep fits of laughter. “Quill! That means your sister had sex!” Of all the anti-social things he could’ve said, he had to go with that one. How wonderfully mortifying. “But I am also happy for you!” 

One of Groot’s branches reached out and touched your stomach. “I am Groot.” Or, as you had grown to understand. “I like babies.” 

Nebula gave you a rare smile from where she stood beside Rocket. She had come so far since you first met her those many years back. Gone from enemy to a true member of the Guardians. The late Gamora, your Gamora, would’ve been proud to see what she had become. 

“Congratulations,” Nebula said with a nod. 

“I agree with the others!” The canine yipped, her tail wildly wagging when she trotted over to you. “I will protect the baby like a good dog!” She licked your hand leaving you secretly grateful she didn’t try to jump up. “This is good news!” 

Rocket, who had been at Peter’s side, made his way over. “Yeah, yeah, what they all said.” He said with a half smile, arms folded. “Guess we better get one of those sign things to hang on the ship that says Baby On Board or something.”

“So no one else sees a problem with this?!”

Peter’s voice popped you out of that blissful bubble you had found yourself in. Everyone was looking at him now, the good mood immediately snuffed out. Your stomach began to churn, only this time, it wasn’t from the pregnancy symptoms. 

“We just got our team back together and everything was fine! Now you had to go along and get pregnant!” He jabbed a finger in your direction. “I dunno, did you not consider how this might impact the rest of us?!” 

Where the hell was this coming from? “You know, just a ‘Wow, congratulations, Y/N’ would have easily sufficed!” You were fuming. Of course you knew he would be a dick when you needed him most. “This was a surprise to us! I’m sorry I didn’t take you into consideration!”

“You know you can’t come on any missions, right, Y/N?” His eyes then landed on Adam, his new target. “You know she is basically out of commission. She’s a risk! Now we’re down a teammate!”

“Peter, leave him alone!” You snapped, moving protectively in front of Adam. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Oh, really, he didn’t now?” Shit, you led him right into that. “Did you forget that whole thing when Goldilocks over there busted through our home and almost killed Rocket, not to mention trying to take the rest of us out with him?!” 

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Pete.” Rocket cut in with a frown. “You’ve said it yourself before, and it’s clear that Adam has. I’ve forgiven him, why haven’t you?” 

You weren’t sure if Rocket’s words struck a chord with Peter or not. In reality, you really could’ve cared less at that point. Tears of frustration and sadness had already begun to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to give him the courtesy of seeing. 

“Thanks, everyone.” You said, stare fixed on the ground. “Your support means a lot.” 

Adam’s hand caught your wrist as you started walking away from the group. “Y/N?” 

“I’m fine.” You told him, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I just need some space. I’ll meet you back in the room. I love you.” And you made sure that you said the last part loud enough for Peter to hear.

                                                   XXX

You had practically built yourself a nest out of pillows and blankets on the top of your bed. Adam’s pillow was stained with your tears because you had chosen it to be the one you cried into. He smelled nice. Honestly, your fight with Peter could’ve gone a hell of a lot worse. You could think of several things you might’ve spat out at him that would’ve hit him hard and good. There was enough that you didn’t need to add onto. 

Suddenly, you heard a knock on your bedroom door--which was odd considering Adam always chose to waltz in without first announcing himself. Whatever, it had been a weird day as it was. Who were you to dictate how your partner came and went?

“Adam, the door isn’t locked. Just come in.”

But the person who opened the door wasn’t Adam. Peter. You watched quietly as your brother made his way over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. After the fallout, why exactly had he decided to show up? Was he going to give you another earful? 

“Before mom died, she made me promise that I would always protect you. Even before that, I felt like I always needed to because it was just the three of us. Well, four if you wanted to include grandpa, but three.” 

You chose not to respond, deciding to see where he was going with this. 

“You may be grown, Y/N, but you will always be my little sister.” Peter said, his voice no longer harsh as it had been. “But that isn’t an excuse to lash out when you get into a relationship or, well, get pregnant. You’re tough. Quills have to be. And if you love Adam and this is what you want, you have my full support.” From his spot, he smiled at you. “Besides, I think I’d make a pretty damn good uncle.”

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze. “That was a dick move you pulled back there.” 

Peter sighed. “I know, I’m really sorry about that.” 

“And you owe Adam an apology for trying to make him feel like shit.” He watched you, probably trying to figure out your next words. Inhaling, you continued on. “But I forgive you. I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself. Adam is a really great guy and he has changed. I really want you two to get along, especially with this baby coming. I need my big brother. I need you.” 

“Y/N, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.” He replied, lightly throwing one of your pillows in your direction. You dodged it with a smile. “Call it a talent.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you beamed the pillow straight back. “You’re such a dork.” The imense amount of relief you felt now was so welcoming. “This baby will be lucky to have you as an uncle. I wish Yondu was here.” Though, you weren’t quite sure how your adoptive father of sorts would feel about a baby. “...I wish mom was too.” 

Peter moved and pulled you into a hug--one that you didn’t realize you needed so badly. “Me too.” He admitted with a sigh. “She’d be so excited. She was the best mom, and I know she’d make an even better grandma. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be just as great at it as she was.” 

You gave Peter a watery smile, only this time your tears were happy. “You think so?” 

He chuckled. “When have I ever lied to you?” And you couldn’t help but think back to Kraglin at that. 

You rested your hand on your stomach, something you had a gut feeling would become more natural as time went on. Your mind wandered to the little life inside of you. What would they look like? Adam? You? Growing something inside of you that was the product of your shared love. Even though you had only known about this baby for such a short amount of time, they were already so adored. A smile crossed your face at it all. The new chapter in your life, his life, everyone’s that had only just begun. 

[bangytell]

The room beside me | sg m

Spend the summer of a lifetime with me, let me take you to the place of your dreams. Double take—druv

Summary: Your roommate who's also your best friend accidentally hears you pampering yourself and now he yearns to have you

Genre: smut, friends to lovers

Rated: mature +18

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 3.5k words

Warnings: f! reader, g!teacher mentions of nicknames (pookie, baby, etc) oral and fingering (f! receveing) protected sex (always do this girlies) mentions of jealousy [from Satoru]

a/n: heyy girlies please enjoyy i hope you really like this one as much as i did.

“Hey pookie, i brought you takoyaki from that place that you…” gasps of air, saccharine moans, and a heavy breathing came from your door

You didn’t bring nobody over ‘cause you were just arriving from school, not that far apart since he only stayed half hour looking through papers.

What can he do now? Stay put and listen? Open the door and join? No, no, Satoru, bring yourself together. He went outside after leaving the takoyaki on the table.

But oh, those sweet sounds from you were already on his mind. He never thought of you in that way, more in a platonic where nothing can happen kinda way 

His hardened cock soon showed, in the middle of the street, great. 

After hearing the door closing, you were uncertain about the noises outside, was it him? 

Your goofy and annoying roommate slash co worker slash sorta best friend, it can't be, he was taking longer in school. 

when you reached your climax and the silence hit you, the fear crawled up to your shoulders, what if it was him? 

the hunger hit you, on top of your table were a tray of tokoyaki, Satoru were here before, did he heard you? 

If he did, you hope he doesn't bring it up, you've heard him before, pampering himself in the shower, his moans are a tad lower and raspy.

But him hearing you was different a lot different what if he heard you calling his name in soft whispers while you imagine having him, in any possible way even if it isn't for long, just hearing that way he says your name so sweet and gentle while you gasp for air with his hard cock inside of you. 

Gojo opens the door when you have a tokoyaki inside your mouth

"Hey pookie" you gift him a lip smile, since the food is still processing inside your mouth "Ah, I knew you'd be eating" he chuckles 

"You just arrived?"after a gulp of your mouthful of food you speak up, he denies with his head 

Oh.

"I was here, left the tokoyaki and remembered i forgot something, and then i remembered i had it on me the whole time" you chuckle and he does too

Were your eyes always this shiny? Gojo thinks to himself 

"Let me guess, your keys?" he nods and loose himself to the hall, into his room

That was weird, even for Satoru, he would often sit down and make you talk about your day, so he can talk about his and how every student tries desperately to get his attention.

Being a full time teacher at the same university is sometimes tiring, until you get home and listen to Gojo blurt out his whole day to you, you're worried. 

One, two, three knocks and a soft "Toru" leaving your mouth 

"Yeah?" he sounds… as if he were running a marathon 

"Jus' checking if you're okay" he hums and you walk away, something must be on his mind.

You devoured the tray he brought you while watching a sitcom, later you hear footsteps as he was out of the shower, with the towel wrapped around his waist, wet strands of hair falling on his face while he dried it with another.

He was worth looking at, his porcelain skin that went so well with his white hair and the cherry on top were those mesmerizing sapphire eyes that were looking at your gaze right now, you turned away to the television again.

“What are you watching” you could smell his body wash by now

“The office” he looks at you, with an angry frown

“I thought we watched that together” you chuckle 

“I restarted it” he walks away again, to change, you assume “Hey Satoru, did you clean the shower?” 

His head appears from the corner of the eye of the door 

“I did not” you chuckle “but now that you offer” you laugh 

“I will not clean if you’re out of there, i know what you do” now he’s walking your way, sits on the sofa next to you and laughs 

“And what is that you are so certain that i do Miss” 

“You know what you do, don’t make me say it” he leans closer to you, smelling clean and swallowing you whole within those blue eyes 

“You listen to me, you perv?” he says with a playful grin and tone

“You’re just loud, and the walls are very thin” he pulls away and you breath again

“I guess” with the muffled sound of the tv, and a few chuckles now and then the night greets you

“You never told me how your day went” you locked gaze 

“A bit tiring, since finals are coming, everything just feels on top of me” you nod, in agreement

“Since you leave everything last minute ‘m sure how you’re feeling” he chuckles 

“I do not” 

“Why do you work? I know you have the money to leave the school, why don’t you just?...”

“I cut loose of my family” he never brings his family to subject “And I do have the money i jus’ wanna feel like i contribute”

“So you’re like super rich and jus’ teach for fun” he chuckles

“Well you got one right” and the power went out, everything went silent and he reached his hand to you, the thought of him worrying about you made your heart beat in excitement 

“I’m good Toru, i haven’t got up” you chuckle and the sound of heavy rain began to hit your ceiling 

“The weather announced the rain?” he asks as if it wasn’t obvious by now of the pouring rain

“I don’t check the weather i’m not 60” you chuckle at unison 

“Is going to be a cold and long night for me” with the help of your cellphone you light up the lantern 

He is walking behind you guiding through the light 

“You can come to my bed if you like” you stop your walk “Jus’ to sleep, we have sleep together before” he’s right, but now it feels different 

“I don’ wanna bother” he chuckles

”You’re too small for that “ he likes the way the dim light of the lantern colors your features, and the way your pajama makes you look as when you were in college 

“You never bother me” he smiles and you blush 

“Night Toru” he adores that sweet nickname since you studied together 

The next day, after sayin morning to shoko and geto you know them trough Satoru and now you’re friends as well, kinda, you got your coffee cup and went to class

When you got home, alone, because Gojo again left everything to the end of the day, the light is still out and it's been light raining all day, you’ve had a bad face all day since sleep was so bad, unconsciously you reach Gojo’s room, he wouldn’t mind if you take a nap there, right? His room is much better since the window gives direct sunlight and it can warm all over, you love your room, when the ac is working.

When Gojo gets home later than he expected, he’s soaking wet since the rain started a while ago. The power is still out, so he begins to call out your name to see if you were at home already. 

No answer. As he walks closer realizes his door is open, and the moon gives him enough light to know that you’re sleeping in his bed, calmly breathing and buffing coming through your mouth.

“Toru… please stay” you say, in a whisper, he knows for a fact that you babble a few words when you sleep and finds it so endearing.

But you call for his name, in a pleading to stay, you were dreaming about him, maybe he misheard. Then a soft moan escapes your mouth and he’s just standing there, like a confused teenager, but he stays there, to listen more, to know if this is truly about him.

“Mhmm yes… Toru, jus’ like that” his name, leaving your mouth and she most surely see’s his friend in that way, sexually maybe even emotionally. He grabbed a change of clothes, careful not to wake you and walked out to take a shower, since his hardened cock was pressing against his clothes in a cry for touch.

You wake up a few minutes after he opens the stream of water, the need of touch makes you wake up in an instant, hearing the water makes your thoughts calm, if Gojo was here you couldn’t be touching yourself. 

You had a few texts from Suguru, asking if Gojo got home, if he was okay and if you were okay. You chuckled and answered his questions.

[We’re both okay, Satoru is in the shower so i’ll tell him to answer to you when his out] 

[Jus’ wanted to know if you were okay, you practically run every time the classes are over] you chuckle, you don’t feel like staying and talk to anyone, and you were sleepy today

[Oh.

Well is jus’ that i didn’t had a good night of sleep yesterday]

[What about every other day?] you smile and then, the sound of Gojo clearing his throat startled you, his eyes looked tired and he had a frown adorning his face

“Who are you talking to?”  you stood up, to walk to your room, but he stands in the way

“Suguru was asking me if you got home” he opened his eyes in amazement 

“How does he have your number?” he sounded angry

“Well, i gave it to him” you were mesmerized by his eyes , not letting you move an inch away 

“And you guys talk often?” you deny 

“He wanted to know if you got home okay” he snorts and move along into his room

“I don’t think you should be talking to him” you looked confused “He’s a womanizer” you chuckle

“I don’t think he’s interested in that way” he raises an eyebrow

“And why is that, he told you?” you deny 

“No, i jus’ don’t think a guy like Suguru would pick me as an interest” you giggle 

“And how could you know?” his tone is serious, like if he was trying to make one of his students to understand something

“Even if he is, i know how to take care of myself Gojo, stop acting like my father” he denies, and you walk away.

Open a can of coke and sit on the couch in the dim light of candles, and your phone buzz again, is Geto

[Did I say something wrong?] you smile

[No, Suguru, just got distracted] 

[Please, call me Geto and what does it get to get you distracted] you blush and start to type away another answer

[Well, Geto, it depends, are you trying to take me on a date] 

Satoru opens the fridge, gets a coke too and sits next to you 

“Why are you blushing? you saw me enter the room?” you giggle and look at him 

“You have your ego way up your ass” he holds a hand on his chest, looking hurt 

“Did you sleep well in my bed?” he grins looking at your blushed cheeks

“Sorry, the sunlight was hitting your bed when i got home and i was so sleepy” he chuckles

“I told you to sleep with me but you’re so stubborn” 

“I am not” he laughs and closes his eyes, he’s soo pretty when he does that you think

“If you aren’t, sleep with me tonight” 

"I uh…" he startled you

"You love proving me wrong so badly that I know for a fact you don’t have a negative thought to my idea" he chuckles and you pout, he knows you too much 

Without thinking it too much, you two end up cuddling together inside his sheets.

He can't stop to think about the idea of his friend interested in you, he's not the type to get jealous and make a scene about it, or so he thought until he notice the soft smile you would give to his texts, he knows his friend and knows how everything can go his way

"You're thinking too loud" he chuckles 

"Do you like Suguru?" he blurts out, it's better to ask now before he loses his mind 

"Yeah, he's nice" he deny and snorts

"Not like that, I know he's nice, he's nice to everyone I mean like physically" you have your back on him and he's distracting himself looking at the ceiling.

"He's handsome, and you can tell that he works out… and his long hair in that man bun he's always using I don't know how he can pull that look so well, and he sometimes holds the door for me in the teachers room…" 

"It's a simple yes or no question you don't have to tell me all those details" you chuckle

"Well, yeah I do find him attractive, why?" he snorts 

"Do you find me attractive?" you stop your thoughts, and even if you would like to kiss him right in that second just to prove him how much you think how attractive he is

"You have pretty eyes" he chuckles

"Answer me, please" You're confused, why would he need that type of assurance that you find him attractive, why would you matter? 

"Well, yes Satoru, i think you're very attractive" he huffs and closes his eyes

"More than Geto?" Is he... insecure right now? 

"Yes, more than Suguru" you answer, to make your friend feel better or so you try to fool yourself 

"Thank you" you smile, even tho he can't see you, those words sounded sincere 

After a few more minutes you weren't able to get yourself to sleep.

"Toru… are you awake?" he hums in response "i can't sleep" he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to him 

Probably he didn't notice, but his hardened cock was rubbing against you and the heat inside you started to crawl up.

"Stop thinking, jus' close your eyes honey" his voice sounds saccharine and raspy

"It isn't that simple" he snorts and whisper in your ear 

"Think about me then" that doesn't help either, you think, while his cock still is close to your skin but so far at the same time  

"Toru… don't be like this" his breathing is slow, so you think that he must be falling asleep or sleep already

"Guess I'll just text Suguru, to know if his up" he turns you around so you face him, you didn’t knew the strength he had until that moment 

“I can help you fall asleep” you chuckle 

“Wow Satoru, were you always this strong?” he snorts and you keep laughing 

“Why would you be so upset if I dated Suguru?” the dim light of the thunders and the moon gave you a glimpse of his features 

“Maybe ‘cause i be jealous” he looks away from you 

“Jealous of me for stealing Suguru from you?” you chuckle and he looks at you 

“More of the opposite” everything stops for you, suddenly the pouring rain wasn’t heavy on the roof, the thunders stopped their rumbling and all you could see, hear and feel was Gojo Satoru and his hopeful blue eyes staring directly at you.

“Stop messing around Toru” he chuckles 

“I wouldn’t play with something like this” and you’re heavy breathing, thinking of all the times you wished to just hold and told him that you feel so much for him, how all those years together made you see him as more than friend, how even he is so full of himself you know he also cares for other, encourages and challenges every person around him and you admire him, but you cherished him so badly that the thought of calling out your feelings to him would ruin your friendship, and you’d rather suffer in silence if that meant living around the person you love. And now he was sort of… confessing to you?

“What do you mean?” you huff and feel a lack of air through your lungs as if you know that your feelings made you feel this way 

“Well, I don’t know how to explain myself” he huffs this time “But the other day, that I brought you the takoyaki i heard you… pampering yourself” you opened your eyes in surprise “By accident, I thought i surprised you with takoyaki since you ran from your classroom to here everyday… and then uhm… I started to feel the need to hear and feel you, i thought i was just being physical” 

“I’m so embarrassed right now” he chuckles and grabs you by the chin so you look at his eyes

“Then I saw the smile you were giving to him, and the thought of you with another man just made my blood boil” what a possessive “I found myself thinking about you all day, when i heard you calling my name on your dreams I just… i think i have always liked you”

“As a friend?” he was leaning closer, every breath you could feel it close to you

“No… more than a friend” you gulp the saliva on you throat 

“As best friends” he chuckles

He leans in and presses his lips with yours in a saccharine kiss, slow and soft as he opens his mouth to deepen the pace. Your hands go to his chest to grab from something as the lack of air pulls you apart from him.

“Is that enough answer to you?” you lean closer and breath in his cologne 

“I might need a bit more than that” as he chuckles you kiss again, pulling closer each time feeling his throbbing cock against you as he stroke against you in need you lower your hand to touch him, to feel what you’ve been yearning for, Satoru moans in between the kiss.

“Baby… please, let’s focus on the kiss” you chuckle 

“I get so distracted by it” you pant and he chuckles this time 

“We don’t have to do it if you…”

“C’mon Toru i’m not a teenager, we’re not teenegers” He stands up and pulls away his clothes, and helps you with yours 

“God, you’re body is amazing” is because there’s no light in here you think to yourself 

“You’re not so bad yourself” he chuckles coming back to bed and accommodating his body hovering you, you begin to kiss again in a sloppy and needy pace, his body begins to stroke yours 

he leans to kiss your neck and your legs shiver and tremble

“You should get a condom” he pouts and gets up to grab one from his night stand

He puts it on and proceeds to make his way to your wet and throbbing cunt, you moan when his tongue licks over your clit, and you knew that he would know exactly how to make you feel good, your saccharine moans fill the room and when his mouth begin to hum you felt the vibrations you began to quiver, his fingers make its way inside your folds and the moans leaving your mouth are loud, you feel his digits work his way inside of you.

“Toru…- stop… or ‘m gonna cum” he chuckles, pulling his face away to look at you 

“Jus’ by my fingers? oh pookie but i haven’t been inside you yet” you quiver again when his pace quickens.

“Toru…-please i need you” you pant, he pulls away and accommodates his body once again to hover you.

The tip of his cock rubs against your folds and you feel needy, so needy for him

He doesn’t makes you wait any longer to make his way inside of you, you pant when he reaches your sweet spot. he thrust against you and his digits found your clit and began to rub, you’re both panting and moaning each other name like a prayer, after a few strokes to your throbbing clit you announce your climax, and he listens and continues his pace and movements. 

The waves of your climax hits you, makes your back arch and pant his name so sweetly.

“Yes, baby, cum for me… ah… you’re so tight, you squeeze my cock so good”

he thrust sloppier and pants your name with raspy moans and cums inside the condom 

Lying his head in the cup of your neck, feeling your skin with him and heavy breathing recovering from your climax.

“Hey Toru, i feel all sweaty” he chuckles and you feel the vibrations on your body 

“C’mon enjoy this moment skin to skin” and you want to so you stay like that for a while longer.

He pulls away, throwing the condom away, then returning to bed and cuddling you.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” he chuckles at your question

“Would you let me date you?” you smile while looking to his eyes stroking strings of his sweaty hair 

“I would be really happy Toru” he smiles 

“Of course you would pookie” and you chuckle 

Seems that your roommate also felt the need to have you as much as you did.

©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

[ineffabildaddy]

on today's episode of understanding good omens through my own life:

a story about my ineffable inevitable queer teenage experience with an intense, volatile, fiercely affectionate 'friendship' that was definitely not just a friendship in retrospect.

when i was eleven, i started secondary school, and i met a girl who quickly became my best friend (i'm a trans man, and i also understood myself as a girl at the time. i still understand myself as a girl at that time). we became known as a unit because we couldn't get enough of each other, and we did absolutely everything together.

on the first day of our second year, we saw each other for the first time in several weeks because she had been away in her home country that summer. i had been counting down the seconds until she came back. when she was in the process of giving out souvenirs from her trip to all our friends, she waited until she saw i was alone and approached me. she handed me a ziploc bag full of shells and rock fragments.

"i picked these out for you at the beach," she said.

i thanked her and asked her to show me the bags of shells she'd made up for the others.

"i didn't do this for the others. i only did it for you," she responded, and walked away.

i had never felt anything like what i felt in that moment, and i haven't since. i was a lonely kid, especially before that age. what i mean to say is... no one had ever done anything just for me. no one had ever thought of me when i wasn't there; no one had ever taken the time to give me something that they had so carefully picked out; no one had ever stated with such conviction, in what was said or what was unsaid, that what they had done for me was not to be enjoyed by anyone else.

i like to remember this when i try to understand this moment in good omens:

i can't begin to comprehend what aziraphale must have felt in that moment, but remembering that day of my own life is the closest thing i've got.

mere months after that day, we started to argue. we had a huge falling out. i told her that no one on earth was capable of hurting me quite like she was (thirteen year-old me, in her own twisted way, thought that was a compliment). she told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn't stand me. we stopped talking.

a few months after that, we reconciled and we became closer than ever, but that tension, that unrest, was always lying under the surface, just waiting to gnash its teeth - and sometimes it did. these were also the years in which we were discovering our queer identities, and it took us a long time to really understand each other's journeys in that regard.

at sixteen, we both left our school and moved to a different institution till we graduated at eighteen. though we were at the same sixth form college, we just had different lives and didn't hang out anymore, though we remained on good terms. now, we text every once in a while, and we always say we'll meet up, but we never do. in october of last year, i bumped into her for the first time in maybe four years while coming home from a pavement gig. she was sitting on the doorstep of her parents' place with a roll-up cigarette. it was like no time had passed.

looking back, i can say with full confidence that i was in love with her. i do not know how else to understand our relationship. she drove me up the wall the way she did because i had never felt anything like what i felt for her for anyone else - and i haven't to this day.

even now, every time she is even mentioned in conversation, i dream about her the night following. and i still have those shells, hidden away in a wooden box i've never shown anyone; it's not too far from the shoebox that contains every note she ever passed me, every doodle she ever drew for me, every card she ever wrote me. in other words, i was permanently altered by our relationship, and her absence from my life has never diminished that. the same can naturally be said of crowley and aziraphale, to a much, much greater extent. i relive my memories of us because they help me understand many things about myself and others, and i've recently found that good omens has encouraged this.

this ended up longer than i intended but i hope you got something out of it.<3

[outfitqueer]

The First Steps

Coming Out to Myself @outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

The journey to coming out to myself was a quiet yet profound odyssey, marked by moments of deep self-reflection and emotional turbulence.

It was like discovering a hidden room in a house I’d lived in for years, a space that had always been there but was only now coming into focus.

I remember the first time I seriously considered my identity.

It wasn’t a single, dramatic revelation but rather a series of small, almost imperceptible shifts.

I’d catch glimpses of myself in the mirror and feel an unsettling disconnect, like seeing a stranger’s reflection superimposed over my own.

The more I explored these feelings, the more I realized that what I was seeing wasn’t a mere distortion but a reflection of who I truly was.

One of the earliest moments of self-realization came when I started to allow myself to dream about being my authentic self.

I’d imagine scenarios where I could express myself freely, where my appearance and identity aligned seamlessly.

These dreams were a source of both hope and anxiety. They painted a picture of a life that felt so right and so distant all at once.

It was exhilarating to envision this new reality but equally daunting to confront the gap between that vision and my current reality.

The process of coming out to myself was also deeply emotional. There were tears—sometimes of relief, sometimes of frustration—as I faced the truth of my feelings.

It was an internal struggle to reconcile the image I had long presented to the world with the identity I was slowly acknowledging within.

I grappled with fears about what this acceptance would mean for my relationships, my career, and my overall sense of self-worth.

I spent countless hours reflecting on what it meant to truly accept myself.

This wasn’t just about acknowledging my identity as a trans woman; it was about embracing it fully and allowing myself to be vulnerable with that truth. I would sit with my thoughts, sometimes in quiet solitude, sometimes in the midst of a crowded room, and ask myself tough questions. What would it mean for my future? How would my life change? And most importantly, could I accept this change with love and compassion for myself?

During this time, I also sought out resources and communities that helped me understand my identity better.

Reading books and stories from other trans people, engaging in online forums, and finding support networks were crucial steps.

These external sources of validation helped me to validate my own feelings, to see that my experiences were part of a larger, shared narrative.

The turning point came when I reached a sense of inner peace. It was a quiet moment of acceptance, when the fear and anxiety started to be overshadowed by a profound sense of rightness.

I realized that accepting myself wasn’t about eliminating fear—it was about embracing who I truly was despite the fear.

It was about recognizing that the discomfort of living a lie was far greater than the challenges that might come with living my truth.

Coming out to myself was not just a precursor to coming out to others; it was a fundamental part of the journey.

It was the moment when I looked in the mirror and saw not just the person I had been pretending to be, but the person I had always been inside. It was a moment of self-love and acceptance that laid the groundwork for the steps I would take next.

In accepting myself, I found a deep well of courage and hope. It was the beginning of a new chapter, one where I could step into the light with a sense of authenticity and self-assurance.

And while the path ahead was still uncertain, the act of coming out to myself provided the clarity and strength needed to face the world as my true self.

@outfitqueer 🏳️‍⚧️

[yagirlwrites]

(Not) My Baby (3)

Pairing: college! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsys: Rafe struggles to explain himself and Y/N struggles to deal with the situation he put her in. Her best friend is there to comfort her in the aftermath.

Warnings: Angst

A/N: Hi y'all! I'm so sorry this took so damn long to update! I hope it's enjoyable enough and people still care about this little story! I do intend to write this series out completely, I have not given up on it! But life be a bitch and I be busy, unfortunately. I hope y'all like this part and as always let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated (but reblogs are welcome).

Happy reading! 🥰

(Not) My Baby (Part 3)

Stella walked through the door after a long afternoon of classes, ready to plop down on the couch and chill hard. Walking into the livingroom she greeted out a cheery "Honey, I'm home!" followed by a chuckle. She expected to be welcomed with an eyeroll from /Y/N or a silly comment from Lena but she was met with silence.

Y/N was sitting on the couch - a melted pint of Ben & Jerry's on the table, seemingly untouched - staring at the TV screen with a far away look in her eye. She hadn't even noticed Stella's arrival.

"Peach?" Stella's voice was quiet, catious, unsure of what was going on. Her worry only grew once she realized Y/N still wasn't acknowledging her. She approached her gently, laying an uncertain hand on her shoulder and calling her name again.

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts with a start, confused and disoriented for a few seconds untill she realized who was touching her and where she was. The darkness was slowly setting in outside, accompanied by the twinkling of lights. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, staring at nothing.

"Are you okay, Peach?" She finally met Stella's eye and shook off her haze.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Pumpkin" she replied with a small smile.

Their nicknames for each other had been a staple of their friendship since freshman year. That first semester, the dorm they had shared had been a mess. The mysterious stench that could never be placed constantly plaguing them. They were forced to light scented candles to neutralize it. Y/N's favourite was the Peach scented one her mother made for her before she left for college. Stella's choice was always Pumpkin Spice, no matter what the season was. One day the nicknames came up and they hadn't left them since. The memory always made her smile.

"You don't seem okay." Her friend wore a concerned look and she sighed. She didn't even know how to begin to explain to her what was wrong. Physically she had been on that couch for hours, but her mind was still at the sandwich bar... with him.

"Something weird happened today..." She started talking, hoping that if she managed to explain it to Stella she might start to make sense of it herself.

-----

"Are you gonna say something?" His voice broke her staredown with the glass of water on the table in front of her. She hadn't moved a muscle for several minutes, trying and failing to process his words.

His family thought they were a couple. And it was because of him. He told a boldfaced lie and implicated her in it. How the hell does she react to that?

"Why?" Her voice startled him when she finaly spoke. He was freaking out big time. How the hell could he explain it without sounding like a dick? He couldn't. If she didn't before, she will definitely hate him now.

"I -" he trailed off, not being able to meet her eye. The words weren't coming no matter how hard he willed them to. Just say something, idiot!

Her focus was on him again and he didn't know if that freaked him out more or less than her disasociation from earlier. She was staring. Waiting. He wasn't even sure she was blinking. He tried wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, but it didn't help.

"My family..." he looked up at her, making sure she was still listening and not getting ready to run.

"My family is complicated. I've been dodging the talk about girlfriends and relationships for as long as I could... But then they started pestering me about this wedding and my stepmom was talking about these different girls" he scoffed "options, she called them. Options for dates for the wedding. And I tried, I really tried to get them to drop it but then my dad got angry because I wasn't taking things seriously and he started going on about how immature I am that I can't even have a single relationship work and how embarrasing it is having to set me up with these dates and I just -"

He had been speaking so fast she was struggling to keep up, the story spilling from his lips as if he had been holding it in for ages. She supposed he had. The way he made his family sound was making her skin crawl.

"I just cracked." His eyes were glossy, and if she didn't know any better she'd think he was on the verge of tears.

"I told them I have a girlfriend." He took a big gulp of his sweet tea, trying to calm his skipping heart. He felt ill, like he was going to pass out from telling her all of this. But she gave him no choice.

"Okay..." she broke the silence when it became clear he wasn't going to continue. He still hadn't explained why she was involved and that's exacly what she told him. He was playing with his hands on the table again, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his brow. He looked rough.

"Once I said it, I couldn't take it back. But then they started demanding to know 'who she was' and 'why I hadn't told them' and 'how long we've been together' and they kept-" he closed his eyes then.

"They kept asking : 'Whats her name? Who is it?' over and over and I just... your name slipped out."

----

"He what?!" Stella had been listening to the story with bathed breath untill that moment. Y/N sighed and repeated herself.

"He told them we're together..." Her hands met her face as she exhaled. This was not helping at all. She supposed it was wishful thinking that it might.

"What the fuck?" Stella took a large sip from her wine glass - having at some point during the recounting of Y/N's day decided she needed to pour them both a drink.

"Exactly." Y/N leaned her head back over the couch and closed her eyes, trying and failing to push away the oncoming headache. She could feel the pulsing in her ears. This was a mess. She had no clue what to do about it. So she took another sip of the Pinot.

"So what did you say?" Stella was holding onto the wine glass with an iron grip, the situation making every nerve in her body buzz with anticipation and trepidation. Completely bewildered but secretly loving the drama.

She had always thought the two had a weird relationship. Even though her friend would kill her if she knew she thought of the word 'relationship' pertaining to them in the first place. She knew he had left a mark on the girl, having witnessed the way they acted around each other. He pushed all her buttons and Y/N never hesitated to throw back what she got. But Stella never knew the full extent of it and she wondered if this was a blessing or a curse.

On the one hand, there was always an insane ammount of sexual tension between Y/N and Rafe. Everyone thought so but no one dared say it, not willing to risk life and limb from the pair. Maybe this could be what tips over the glass and they finally resolve whatever is going on between them. Or, more likely, it would end in blood and tears. It was one of the two, Stella was sure of it.

"I don't know..." Y/N trailed off, looking awkward as hell.

"You don't know what you said?" Stella was looking at her with disbelief. What did that even mean?

"I just... I freaked out. Okay?" Y/N's voice held a note of panic and embarrassment and Stella could not help herself, leaning over, now on the edge of her seat.

"Freaked out how?"

----

"What do you mean 'my name slipped out'?" Her voice was incredulous. He'd put her in a terrible position without a second thought. It made her cheeks flush with anger again.

"It just slipped out, okay? I didn't plan it. It just happened!" He was tripping over his words with how fast he was talking. It felt like everything was falling appart and he had no idea how to fix it. If he even could anymore.

Y/N was shaking her head, eyes wide as the realisation of exactly what he had done finally sunk in. And then she lost the plot a little bit, she'll admit.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I never meant for it to happen. But then once it was out there I couldn't take it back. I couldn't tell them I lied! My dad would never let me live it down, he'd never let me forget..." He trailed off from his rambling then.

As he had been speaking, Y/N had reached over and grabbed the sandwich off his plate and was currently munching down on it, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Did you just... take my sandwich?" He didn't even mean to speek, the bizzarity of the situation just making his words slip out. She looked at him then and there was a spark of anger in her eyes that made him gulp.

"Yeah... yeah! I did take your sandwich." She took another bite, maintaining eye contact. She knew it was childish but she'd be damned if she apologized now.

"I eat when I'm stressed. This is making me very stressed." She spoke as she grabbed his tea and then proceeded to down half of it. He was completely bewildered at what was happening.

"That's..." he trailed off, trying to move on from this weird moment, while she chewed on his lunch.

"Look it - it doesn't matter. If you could just see it from my perspective you'd understand-"

"Understand what?" She interrupted, voice eerily cold. "Understand that after being a dick to me for years, you decided to involve me in your family drama that has nothing to do with me? To lie about us being a couple? Not only that but you expect me to help you keep up the lie!? Go to a wedding? Are you actually insane?"

She was getting angrier by the second. How dare he? After everything, after how he treated her... to go and pull something like this? It was unbelievable. Selfish. Egoistic. So very him, after all. She scoffed at the realisation.

"You know what?" He was looking at her with big pleading eyes as she stood from her seat.

"I don't need this." She grabbed her stuff and made to leave.

"Please, Y/N!" His hand wrapped around her wrist again and she saw red.

"Take your fucking hand off me." He raised his hands up in surrender, fear in his eyes. He had really fucked this up big time. He didn't even know why he thought this would go any differently.

"Please..." His pleading voice and those big eyes made a funny feeling she couldn't decipher blossom in her stomach. She was frozen in place.

"Please, just think about it? Please?" Her face softened some at his pathetic state. Why was this act pulling on her heartstrings?

"I - I need you." He was fighting so hard not to touch her, to pull her to him and beg her. He was so close to getting down on his knees when she spoke.

"Fine. I'll think about it." Her words were quiet and for a moment he thought he imagined them, but the sincere look in her eyes made him realize it was true. He didn't expect that.

She didn't expect that. She couldn't believe she folded like that. As soon as he brought out the sad eyes she was acting like a fucking idiot. She wanted to slap herself but instead she settled for turning and walking away from him. Angry. Sad. More confused than she'd ever been in her life.

----

Stella was sitting there, mouth agape. Y/N finally stopped avoiding her eyes and looked at her friend. She wanted to disappear. For the ground to swallow her up. She felt so drained and lost and now, once again, embarrassed.

"You stole his sandwich?" Stella was visibly holding back a laugh and Y/N couldn't stop the eye roll. Of course she would focus on that.

"Piss off." She got up to put her glass in the sink, trying to settle her heart from reliving the day. Stella followed, completely unphased by the girl snapping at her.

"Okay, so what are you gonna do?" Y/N took a deep breath and looked at her friend. Stella finally realized how tired Y/N looked and that it was probably taking a lot more out of her than she had picked up on. She got lost in the drama of it all but her friend was really stressed.

"You know what? We can worry about that tomorrow. Okay?" Y/N let out a breath of relief, even if it was a small one.

"What do you say we get into your bed and put on netflix, like we used to?" Y/N gave a small smile and a nod at that and Stella wrapped her arm around her, leading them towards her room. "I'll heat up the leftovers from last night and we can cozy up, yeah?"

Y/N agreed. Even thought she had planned to make a nice dinner tonight she knew she had no energy. Yet another thing Rafe had ruined today. Left over cheesy pasta would have to take on the difficult job of trying to soothe her. She knew it wouldn't succeed though. It couldn't possibly. She was fucked on so many levels and she had no idea how to move forward.

But for tonight, it didn't matter. Simon Bassett and his dreamy forearms were the only thing she needed to focus on tonight. That and the feel of her friend holding her in a comforting embrace, making her smile. She was glad to have Stella by her side, no matter what. And before she drifted into dream land, she realised that as long as she had her friends she would be just fine. She always was. Rafe couldn't ruin that.

---

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @r0und3bitch @tee-swizzle @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @goldenjo @kanib45 @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @cmac-writes @malfoytargaryen @alinaharlow @buggy-d-chopper @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife

[ateez-himari]

Behind The Track ... Shadow ♪

🔓 Unlocked

‥ The track reflects a conflict happening within Himari's mind which grows along with her fame, showcasing that every piece of light has its dark counterpart that grows stronger the more it is pushed away.

‥ She has been rather open recently about mental challenges she has faced since the group's debut and putting those negative periods into songs is - in her opinion - a way to fight her internal battles. In this case being able to write about her 'shadow' is a way of unlocking a piece of herself which still needs healing, letting out the raging emotions out in a non-harmful way and allowing her to deal with it on her own terms.

‥ Despite being a vocalist she chose to rely heavily on rap throughout the song, using vocals solely for the chorus, as she felt it conveyed the distress behind the lyrics more accurately. Rapping is usually seen as something angry and aggressive, making it the ideal choice to express the raging emotions contained in the verses while vocals are viewed as more vulnerable which is why it is used in the chorus - which is no longer confrontational but desperate.

‥ When the members listened to the rough version there was a moment of silence after the song ended as they tried to process everything they had just learned about the maknae's struggles. Yoongi having gone through very similar experiences had to step out of the studio in order to calm his thoughts as seeing so much of himself in his younger sister scared him, mainly because he did not want the cycle to repeat itself with her.

‥ This track had been in the works for a while yet she chose to completely wipe the old lyrics as they had been created during a time where she still had a hard time accepting the more negative parts of herself - her shadow - and she wanted the story to show the full extent of her conflict's growth, not bring back the version of herself in its deepest state of fatigue.

📂 Notebook

‥ 'Shadow' This represents every negative part of herself that she wishes to push away, every hurtful memory, her deepest regrets and even things such as emotional or physical pain. It also embodies anger, grudges, greed, resentment, etc.

‥ 'I wanna be...' These desires for greatness not only demonstrate the dreamy mindset of wanting to have it all but also the desperation to be good enough, to not let the hopes of those who believe in her be in vain. With the industry's constant push for perfection she developed a fear of failure, beginning to have trouble admitting when something she did was the best that could have possibly been done within her abilities.

‥ 'I wondered everyday how far I'd go. I came to my senses and I find myself here' After leaving JYPE in favor of KQ her future became uncertain due to the amount of elimination risks that came with the survival show, instilling doubt in her mind every day about how long she could hold on to her spot. During that time she drowned herself in training - including learning new skills such as production and rap - which made every day that passed almost unnoticed so when she finally took a breath after being chosen, only then did she realize she had succeeded.

‥ 'Yeah, hmm, shadow at my feet. Look down, it's gotten even bigger. I run but the shadow follows, as dark as the light's intense' The fact that the shadow stands at her feet symbolizes the fact that she has kept it below her all this time, ignoring its very existence in hopes that the light - ATEEZ's success - would dissipate it. However once she truly pays attention to it, it has grown much bigger than anticipated and no matter how much she attempts to ignore it once more she realizes that there is no escaping what has been created by her own mind. 'As dark as the light's intense' refers to the fact that the group's success only strengthens that shadow due to more stress factors, more eyes on her, more grueling physical efforts, etc.

‥ 'I can leap in the air but also plunge, now I know.' Due to coming from a small company there was not much lower for the group to go hence she believed that the only thing they could so was rise yet as they did so, people began attempting to drag her down - making the manager wonder if keeping her was truly a good choice - and that was when she realized that despite the success they had achieved they also had a risk of all of that falling apart.

‥ 'Running away could be an option too, pause' A few months after debut she began getting a large amount of hate and realized that it was affecting the group's popularity growth, leading to her making the decision to leave. The 'pause' signifies the night her bandmates found out, during which they sat the girl down and did whatever they could to alter her choice.

‥ 'People say, there's splendor in that bright light. But my growing shadow swallows me and becomes a monster' The 'bright light' refers to fame which is something that most people find to be a wonderful thing and just as light creates shadows, fame creates negativity. The group was made to work harder the more successful they became which led to her sustaining multiple injuries from extensive practices or even performances during which she suffered from deep fatigue - essentially 'swallowing' her. Monsters are terrifying and seemingly unbeatable, which is how she felt going through her depressive episode.

‥ 'I rise, rise, I hate it.' ATEEZ saw a rapid ascent to popularity which still carries on to this day and although she is proud of this achievement, she claims to hate it in order to illustrate the heavy burdens that come with it.

‥ 'I pray, I pray, hoping to be okay' It has been stated before that she does not follow a religion - despite having a few spiritual beliefs - so the fact that there is willingness to pray to something she does not believe in shows the extent of her desperation. It felt so much as though she was running out of options that the only thing she could do was hope some higher power would be willing to help her.

‥ 'Please don't let me shine. Don't let me down, don't let me fly. Now I'm afraid' The words have nothing to do with one another, symbolizing the fact that in such a terrified and desperate state there are so many things running through her head that all she can do is beg desperately to be protected from what she is afraid of.

‥ 'The moment I face myself brought lowest. It so happens that I'm flying the highest.' The Fireworks era was the lowest point in her mental health following increased demands for her to be removed from the group as well as several personal side factors and it was a time during which her body was experiencing increased fatigue. At this time however ATEEZ was at a high point, filming the show 'Kingdom: Legendary War' and 'Stressor Things' all the while promoting their new album. A similar circumstance happened during the Guerilla era, during which people claimed she needed to train harder in order to reach the members' level of power - leading to severe impacts on her body including the inability to stand after the song was over.

‥ 'Try smiling, what are you hesitating for? Wasn't this the kind of thing you were hoping for? Or cry instead, what are you scared of? Wasn't this the kind of thing you'd been wanting?' Pushing herself to smile mainly refers to the fact that in front of cameras she refused to show her fatigue, going by most days believing that tomorrow everything would go back to normal - that these feelings eating away at her were temporary. Crying was also complicated around the members due to her refusal to burden them with whatever was happening in her mind - somewhat afraid that their reactions would be negative. Questioning herself about the fact that it was what she wanted is a form of self-criticism in which she is trying to find reasons around the shadow's existence, removing any validity the conflict in her mind has.

‥ 'All the things you wanted, you've got it all. So what's the problem? Just enjoy it. Or just let it go, no? Then run, or stop. Don't whine, just choose one or the other' A lot of the time Himari became conflicted with her own feelings, not understanding why there were times she seemed tired of her career as it was what many people dreamed of and it was what she sacrificed so much for. When tired thoughts made their way into her mind, she would scold herself with the same lines she had heard from 'fans'; 'How can you be depressed when you have everything ?'.

‥ 'That at times, your rest becomes your fall. Do you finally get it? That giving it your best effort every time is what it means to do your best' Having very high expectations for herself she would not rest until she got the choreography down to perfection, however over time - thanks to a lot of help from the members - she realized that sometimes there were things her body was not able to do or handle so simply doing things to the best of her abilities was enough.

‥ [Distortion following the second bridge] The sudden switch is a humanization of the shadow's voice, turning the song into a conversation between it and her consciousness rather than a monologue.

‥ 'Yeah I'm you, you are me, now do you know. Yeah you are me, I'm you, now you do know' The shadow is attempting to rationalize with her more conscious self in order to make her realize that the mind will only become more conflicted the longer the two parts stay as two separate entities. 'Now do you know' is an aggressive, somewhat arrogantly phrased question to show that while Himari attempted to build a new self comprised of nothing but light, the shadow always knew that both could not exist without one another.

‥ 'We are one body, sometimes we will clash. You can never break me off, this you must know' Both sides of her persona essentially share the same source, the same mind, which means there is never truly an escape from either and confusion in her own mind is inevitable, even so, no side can be destroyed. 'This you must know' conveys the urgency behind the need for reconciliation between the two parts for the sake of the healing of her mental health.

‥ 'Yeah you'll be at ease if you admit it too. Yeah succeed or fail, whichever way you flow. Yeah you can't escape, wherever you go' Once again these lines are from the shadow's point of view helping her realize that the darker parts of herself will always be here no matter what, inciting her to comes to terms with this fact in order to heal. In this she is essentially attempting to make her conscious self realize that recognizing she's hurt is the first step to getting better.

‥ 'We are you, we are me, this do you know' The final lyric being from her shadow counterpart symbolizes that the conflict has been put to rest, using the word 'we' to refer to both parts as one hence symbolizing the new coexistence between the pained and healing sides of herself.

[astrum99]

Of course I have to write something with the new lore drop on Gabriel's pronouns:') Anyways: sets around the 3-2 epilogue.

----------

It was unfair. It was absolutely unfair.

He had done his assignments to perfection for millennia, for eons. Slayed enemies by the orders of the Father, the council. He tore away the seat of the judge within hell and sat there for as long as he was told to. He spilled blood without thinking, because he trusted them to make the right call, because how can God be wrong? How can the council be wrong?

He knelt in front of them. Body low and curled. Head drooped like his wings. Shame and pain stewed and bloomed from his first fail, due to an abomination of a machine that defies all odds. He needed to warn the council and purge the machine once more with some additional helping hands.

Yes, he needed their support now more than ever, but they were not sparing him a single glance. They looked away as if it were them that were hurt. He couldn’t get a single word in before the tremendous voices of the council overwhelmed him. The repulsion in their voice wormed its way into his veins and turned to ice. It pinned him to the cold marble flooring. Not a single explanation was given a place. He can’t get a word in before they cut him off. How can they judge without letting the defendant speak?

He was injured, he was bleeding. His wounds were open, pulsing, still burning badly from the piercing of the relentless gunfire. Yet here he was, kneeling and grovelling like a creature, a husk. The council spared him no mercy, no sympathy. No offers for healing or rest. Only utter disgust and resentment. “Heresy,” their voice echoed, louder and louder.

They stripped him of his rank, of his pride. They called him it. As if he was nothing more than a young, bumbling virtue. His work, his devotion, his absolute loyalty – they acknowledged none of his offerings, his sacrifices. They refused to listen. Instead, the light was cruelly ripped out of him.

For a brief second, he was not sure if the scream was coming from his bleeding throat (it was). The next second came the crashing pain: in his delirious state, he was uncertain if he’d been disembowelled and eviscerated in the process (technically, his organs were physically fine, but the light was rooted in every cell of his, and the extrication was... far from gentle).

He woke with a hollow feeling in hell. He supposed they had tossed him there to save the trip. Alone. Isolated. Still hurt. How unfair to make him go on like this.

At that moment, a part of him realized that he did not matter to them. They did not love him. They only loved his work, his devotion, his loyalty. Like a dog. He shook himself and refrained. He could not possibly entertain the thought if he wished to go on. He was given an opportunity to prove himself, and he must rise once more to earn back their respect (because it was the only thing he knew). So if he cannot fill the emptiness from the light with love, he supposes hatred will do just fine.

He gazed upward and absolutely did not think about how he found more comfort in the familiar darkness of hell than the cold marbled floors of heaven.

He had work to do.

[saltsicklover]

Bloody Knuckles - Fan Mail Pt. 7

Title: Bloody Knuckles - Fan Mail Pt. 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3925

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, blood, anger. Steve Rogers being the absolute worst. Angsty as hell, honestly. Let me know if I missed anything.

I am so sorry in advance.  

-- To be continued. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

Ace is ready to take on the world, at least that's what she tells herself, heading out of the apartment, ready for a long awaited day off, but the letters she found stacked in her mailbox give her pause. It's been a few days since she checked her mail, the wanting to hear from Bucky swollen in her chest but the exhaustion from work kept her walking past her mailbox. Three envelopes sit in a stack, each with the return address to Avengers Tower, each baring a unique date and name, the handwriting impossibly different from one another. 

She flips through them, first ripping open the letter she knows came from Bucky. Her heart flutters a bit as she unfolds the bright yellow paper. She reads over the words, taking in each swoop and curve of the delicate letters. The way Bucky poured his entire heart into his words manages to bruise hers a little but the idea that he thinks she may not be real, a con, a flat out lie absolutely breaks her. 

Tears rim her eyes, blurring the lines of the letter. She runs her fingers over the end script, her fingertips tingling, "With too much hope and heartache". The line eats at her heart straight through her ribcage, lungs constricting with uncertain pressure. A small wheeze escapes her lips, morphing into a bit of a moan, the sound soaked in a new sort of pain she hasn't felt before. 

Ace has felt enough pain for a lifetime- enough fear to drown in and somehow she has stayed afloat. But this letter from Bucky threatens every feeling she has ever swallowed. 

This is nothing like the feeling of betrayal that she came to know after she found out her blood family once served Hydra. It's not the feeling that of broken grief she processed after their death, or the hurt that came from each new form of abuse they threw her way. It's nothing like the way her stomach swam as she poured her heart out to her therapist, or the way her limbs went numb when she sent that first letter. 

This is heartache. For both of them. 

How could he ever think that she wasn't real; her most sincere self poured into each letter she sent him. The way she took time to collect and curate things to send Bucky, just so he could actually get the chance to know her, and he still manages to think that maybe she isn't real. 

How could she not be real?

But the way he begs to know her twists her thoughts like vines. The way the letters swoop cut into her like knives. There is an inkling of desperation that seems to drown her, the words constricting all of the air from her lungs. They burn- both the words and her lungs, in equal measure. 

He must know that she is real, he has to. You don't beg that way for someone you consider a threat, a tease, or a game. Hell, you don't beg at all. The way Bucky has poured his soul out is no where near begging or pleading.

That's the way one yearns. 

Too much hope and too much heartache- too much, far too much. 

That thought hits her like a ton of bricks, knocking what little breath she has flat out of her chest in a strangled wheeze. Ace is caught somewhere between hurt and pure reverence. Bucky cares for her in kind, the way she does with him, the notion, the understanding, now settling deep within her bones as she drags a ragged breath into her lungs. 

Ace shoves the paper back into the envelope, her movements a bit too harsh, crinkles and folds making new purchase on the page. Ace shoves it to the back of the pile, ripping open the next one. Little bits of paper fall from the torn edges, discarded on the floor as a single tear slips down her cheek; her world spinning around her as the tear marks down her face, her strength wavering.  Ace unfolds the paper, a singular piece of lined notebook paper, a couple of short paragraphs scribbled down in black ink. 

"Dear Ace, Dude, I am writing to tell you two things. Yes, I know I could have texted you, but what's the fun of that? First off, you should've seen Buck and Steve. They were at each others throats while also being as far apart as possible. 

They were definitely fighting over you, but I got it all taken care of. Steve somehow got it into Bucky's head that you could have been a terrorist or something, but I set them straight. Which brings us to the other thing, I let it spill that I came to meet you, and I think Bucky is jealous, so heads up! 

Talk to you later! - Sam

PS: Schedule me in for another shave and probably a haircut too, you're my go to hair guru now."

A cold snap runs through her bones, then red hot anger bubbles to life, snuffing out any remaining cold from her bones. Raspberry bruises paint themselves under her skin, scorching and weeping. All of the pieces are starting to fall into place. Bucky wouldn't have gotten that twisted idea into his mind on his own, even with the few letters they have exchanged, Ace knows that. 

She knows him. Hell, she know Sam too, and he wouldn't have let Buck concoct such a tail. 

The idea being ridiculous within itself, she could never be a terrorist, not when she is the kind of person who stresses about letting vegetables go bad in the bottom of her fridge. Terrorists don't care about the random head of broccoli in the bottom drawer, they have bigger things to worry about. But, Ace? She is definitely thinking about the broccoli; and the client who sneezed during their haircut causing her to nick their ear with her scissors. That incident happened two years ago and it still cycles through her brain. It all cycles through. 

She knows that she shouldn't be angry, hell, she doesn't blame Steve for wanting to look out for Bucky, she just hates the immediate distrust. Maybe it comes with the job, the predisposition to judge, to keep people at arms length. 

Trusting the people in front of you doesn't exactly work in a war zone, especially when you are the one who is running into fire first. Ace tries to shed the discomfort from her bones and the lingering anger that still pulses beneath her skin. 

Ace's eyes dart over the post script of the letter and a small chuckle manages to crawl out of her chest. She rolls her eyes, the notion feeling a bit silly as she pulls out her phone and writes a note to put Sam down in her books. 

She shifts the envelope to the back, the name on the next one stares back at her. 

Rogers. 

Her heart skips at the name, anger once again beginning to breathe through her. It nips at the spaces between her ribs and the cartilage that holds her her chest together. It aches as it moves through her veins, burning her up from the inside out. 

Maybe she shouldn't feel this way. Deep down she knows that Steve has always been protecting Bucky, after all, that's what heroes do- hell, that's what friends do. Yet, she can't help but to feel beyond hurt knowing that not only had Steve weaved this tail about her, but he hand fed it to Bucky. 

She doesn't even want to open it, the urge to tear it to shreds tingles through her palms, radiating down to her fingertips. Ace takes it between her fingers, the envelope crinkling as she moves to tear it in two.  

With a huff, Ace moves to tear it open instead of in half. She yanks the paper from the envelope, the anger thrumming throughout her body. 

"Y/N" The letter begins, catching Ace off guard. No one has ever used her name, not outright like that. To Bucky, she has always been 201, he rarely addresses her outright. A hello has always been enough for them. Sam gave her a nickname, one that she has come to hold close to her heart. No one has ever given her a nickname so freely before- let alone one that continues to be used. The nickname warms her from the inside out, the idea of having friends blooms inside her chest. 

"Y/N, Stay away from Bucky Barnes. He is fragile- still healing, and your presence in his life is going to hinder that. Do not write him anymore, and do not make me ask again. -Steve Rogers" 

Three fucking sentences. That's all it takes for Ace to crumble. 

The anger pours out of her in waves, wrecked sobs accompanying the hot tears that pour down her cheeks. The page is crinkled tight into her palm before she can let out the next shaky breath from her lungs. 

Within the minute she is out the door of her apartment, throwing herself into a taxi. The paper is still gripped tightly in her hand, the other letters buried in the pocket of her rain coat. As the cab meanders down the road, fat raindrops begin to fall. The pattering of the water on the windshield mixes with the streaking sound of the wiper blades, the chorus around her makes Ace's skin crawl as anger boils within her. 

The cab hits traffic about six blocks from the tower and Ace wriggles around in her seat. The anticipation causes her to shove money at the driver while she throws open the door. Mumbling a 'keep the change' Ace heads out into the storm, stomping her way through puddles towards the tower. 

Ace pulls out her phone, dialing Sam's number without a second thought. The droplets of water make her taps on the screen difficult for the device to read but the line begins to ring a moment later. The call waiting buzz drones over the line, ringing and ringing. She makes it half a block before she is met with his voicemail. 

"You've reached Sam Wilson, leave a message and I'll give you a call back." 

"Fuck" she curses, shoving her phone back into her pocket. She continues to let the anger guide her forward, her clutch on Steve's letter never letting up. By the time she arrives, her hair is drenched, sticking to her forehead and cheeks. Droplets of water stream down her face- it's unclear which are from the rain and which are from her puffy, red eyes. 

Ace leaves puddles in her wake as she stomps up to the front desk, a tight lipped smile spread across her cheeks in order to seem somewhat friendly. The man behind the front desk is barely awake, his face resting in the palm of his hand. His eyes are half lidded, staring at his computer screen. 

She stops a few feet from the desk, looking at the scene before her. She knows she should talk to him, that's the proper thing to do. It is literally this man's job to check people in and out of the building, but at this point she couldn't care less. The anger is clouding her judgement. So, she moves right, avoiding the desk all together, heading straight for the elevators. 

A women asks Ace what floor she is headed to without looking at her. Ace scans her eyes over the buttons, not sure which to pick. She drags her bottom lip between her teeth for a second.

"You are here for the gala, right?" The women questions her, shifting her gaze up to meet Ace's. Her expression shifts as she takes in Ace's dripping form, unable to hide her disgust. She checks her watch to fill the moments while she waits for Ace to respond. 

"Actually, I am here to cut Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers' hair. They usually comes to me, but asked me to make a house call," Ace chuckles a bit, holding up her bag, "But yes, for the gala." The lie she tells leaves her lips and she feels no remorse for it. 

Maybe it's the wrath that's taking up too much space in her chest to leave room for any other feelings or maybe she can lie if it's for Bucky, but either way she doesn't care. The air in the elevator is heavy with humidity but free of tension. 

The women hums out a sort of acknowledgement before pressing a button. They arrive to the floor a minute later and the women motions down the hall. 

"Check the gym," Is all she says before disappearing around a corner without another word. 

Ace pushes through a set of double doors, the gym smelling of sweat and bleach. The scent mingles in her chest with half breathes and pressure, her lungs sore from the sensation. Her hands are numb too, from both from the chill of the rain and from how hard she is gripping onto that fucking letter. White knuckles, tired lungs, and aggravation seems to be all she is in that moment. 

The gym is almost empty, a couple of lone agents packing up their things on the far side of the room. She is basically invisible as she drags her eyes around the room. Her breath catches when she catches Steve tucked away in the corner. He unwarps his hands, massaging out the tension in his hands that has built from his rounds at the punching bag. Steve brings a hand to his mouth, wrapping his lips around his split knuckle.

Without meaning to, Ace takes him in, every inch from his messy blond hair, seafoam eyes downturned and unbothered. The way he laps up the last bit of blood from his hand makes her stomach twist; she can almost taste the copper of the blood and it mixes with the bile that has begun to crawl up her throat at the sight of him. 

Steve pushes himself off the bench, standing to stretch out his worn out body. He wipes sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, his chiseled abs on display but Ace can't find it in her to care. Maybe if she wasn't so goddamn pissed of she would have looked, and maybe if she wasn't balancing on the blade between love and infatuation she would've enjoyed the view, but instead she takes this as her time to rush him. 

She stomps over, not caring about how loud her steps are or the trail of water she leaves behind her. The feeling of her palms pressed squarely against his frame where his shoulders meet his chest sends a fire through her, igniting a new layer of anger. She pushes him with all of her strength and he actually stumbles a bit. The unassuming women standing in front of him seething with anger, it's evident in her eyes, but before he can ask who she is or what she wants, her hands are on his body again, pushing him back, again and again. 

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" She screams at him, the words clawing themself out of her throat. The words catch him off guard, almost as much as her hands do. His brows furrow, confusion stitching them together. He wants to put up his hands, show that he isn't going to hurt her, but all he can manage to do is lock his gaze on her face. 

Steve takes in the puffiness of the bright red skin around her eyes. The dried remanence of tears crusted against her cheeks lead his gaze down to her lips. They are chapped over to the point where they look painful, and she is still yelling. She is yelling at him, words he hasn't bothered to listen to. 

"Steve Goddamn Rogers, America's fucking golden martyr," She continues to scream, "Always knows what's right," Her balled up fists connect with his chest, not enough power to hurt him but enough force to make a point. Her fists continue to connect to any part of his body that she can reach, his chest, arms, stomach. Her words  begin to get lost in her broken sobs. 

She drops the letter that has been clutched so tightly in her hands. It lands on the floor, a crumpled up ball- three sentences lost in wrinkles of paper. 

Ace lands a hit to his chest, breaking open her knuckles, the bright red leaking from her broken skin begins to coat over the plain of her fist. A few punches later, the skin on the other fist breaks open too. 

"How dare you!" She repeats over and over again, the syllables getting clumped together with choked out cries. "How fucking dare you!" 

The blood transfers from her hands to his body, the sight not registering with either of them. 

Steve just stands there and takes it, unsure of what to say or how to stop the abuse that wouldn't end up with her breaking down even further. He wants to grab her wrists, beg her to tell him what he did wrong and who she is, but all he can do is stand there as she begins to crumble completely at his feet. 

She is full on sobbing now, her face contorting. She attempts to rid her face of tears and snot with the backs of her hands but it only sort of works, leaving her face still smeared with wetness, streaked with pure crimson. 

The doors at the other side of the room swing open, Steve's eyes snap up from the woman in front of him to see Sam and Bucky walk in, chuckling to themselves. Ace doesn't notice, she is too busy shoving Steve again. Her palms flat against his body as she pushes, the blood now rushing towards her wrists. 

"Fuck you, Steve," She chokes out one more time, "Fuck you," Her voice is broken, scraping against her throat. Bile coats her tongue, the crying and yelling making her nauseous. 

Steve makes eye contact with Sam, pleading for some sort of help. Sam notices the woman, then notices the blood. It covers her hands, droplets painting the floor beneath them. There is blood on the letter too, but no one seems to notice it. 

Sam sends Bucky to get a first aid kit and the soldier disappears back through the door they came through. 

"What the hell is going on?!" Sam shouts a bit, coming over to aid Steve. He takes a few steps closer, moving to see the woman. When she finally turns her face to look at him, the mixture of fluid on her face, she peers up at him through her damp hair. He recognizes her instantly. 

"Ace?" He questions, holding his hands out to her. He wants to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, the sobs coming from her lips causes his heart to ache. "Ace, what's going on?" 

With his words, she collapses to the ground completely spent. She shakes with rage and ragged breathes. Through her tears, she picks up the letter, now dotted with blood. She tried to unwrinkled it, but the thought of seeing it again makes her body wrack with another hollow cry. Ace holds out a half balled up piece of paper in Sam's direction. He takes it carefully between his fingers, working it open the rest of the way. 

Sam drags his eyes over the words, "Y/N, Stay away from Bucky Barnes. He is fragile- still healing, and your presence in his life is going to hinder that. Do not write him anymore, and do not make me ask again. -Steve Rogers" The small paragraph awakens Sam's temper. He brings his eyes up to Steve, who is still standing in front of Ace, his back towards the wall. 

Sam's expression narrows, his features tight with enmity. "What the hell did you do?" Sam questions him, his eyes trained on Steve's own. 

Bucky walks in, first aid kit in hand. The sight before him causes him to stop. Steve stands with his hands up like he is pleading innocence. His blue eyes swim with guilt, easily read from across the room. 

Sam stands off to the side, a bloody piece of paper in his hand, the other fist balled tightly against his side. Sam is squeezing his fist so tight, the bones of his knuckles threaten to break through the whitened skin that is pulled so taught around them. 

Bucky's eyes drag down to the woman on the floor, her back to him. He watches as she runs her hands through her hair, her bloody hands shaking. He can hear he crying, attempting to stifle the sounds. 

Nobody has notice Bucky standing there- the woman focused on Sam, who is locked into a staring match with Steve. No one moves for what feels like ages. Finally, Sam speaks. 

"Steve, did you write this?" The look in Sam's eyes is nothing but pure challenge, "Did you threaten her?" 

Steve gulps out a quiet 'yes'. 

Sam straightens his posture out, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. He looks like he is about to step into a battle, but instead of running in behind Steve, his going up against him. 

"Do you really think that Bucky is so 'broken' that he can't have a nice girl like Ace as a pen pal?" Sam's voice holds no question at all, he already knows the answer, it's written plain as day in black ink in front of him. 

Steve mutters out another 'yes', eyes falling to the floor. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, like he is going to defend himself but cannot find the words. 

Without a warning, the first aid kit clatters to the floor and Bucky disappears through the doors once more. Ace and the two men turn just in time to see Bucky's fleeting form through the swinging door, getting further and further away. 

Finally, the door settles closed and Ace brings a hand up to cover her mouth. Steve can't pry his eyes off of the exit. 

"Now you've done it," Sam mutters, reaching down to pick Ace up in his arms. He carries her out of the room, leaving the mess of blood and Steve behind them. He couldn't care less- his main focus now on getting Ace's wounds cleaned and dressed. 

Steve is left standing in the thick air around him, his heart pounding against his chest. He is covered in blood and deserves to be. But the blood comes from the wrong source, instead of his own, he wears hers and somehow even through he never raised a hand to her, he can't help but feel like he was that small kid in Brooklyn again.

They always started the same way, a disagreement he met with words because he could never quite land a punch. They always ended the same way too, covered in blood, chest heaving and aching all at once. This time, though, Bucky wasn't there to save him, to throw the last punch, to end the damn fight. He can feel her blood beginning to crust over his skin, cracking and flaking away.

For the first time since the Winter Soldier, Bucky and Steve stand on opposite sides of the fight, and for the first time in this century, he knows one thing to be true: 

This is the fight he is going to lose. 

TAG LIST 

@vicmc624 @cjand10 @songoficecreamandfireworks @crazymusicgirl104 @stany0url0calwh0res111 @ladifreakingda @itsteambarnes

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 18: Fish Out of Water

G’raha took a deep breath before stepping through the door leading from the corridor into the common room of the Rising Stones.

An elderly elf—no, elezen—sat at the nearest table, steaming mug of tea at hand, speaking with a younger elezen woman. The latter G’raha recognized as one of the healers who had helped tend to him and the other Scions; Alianne, her name was. The old man must be the grandfather she had mentioned.

“Finally up and about?” the old man said warmly.

“Yes, thanks to the Scions’ cadre of healers,” G’raha replied, bowing slightly to Alianne.

He couldn’t for the life of him remember what she had said her grandfather’s name was.

“Just be sure not to push yourself too quickly, Archon,” Alianne said.

He took a moment, then smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck and nodding. “Of course!” The marks had been covered for so long, and no one had known that title in the First; he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be addressed as such.

A clatter of activity came from the front door, a quintet making their way in; two gald—roegadyn men, an elezen man, two Hyuran women. The redhead was grousing at the blonde, who rolled her eyes, before focusing in on G’raha.

“Well! Our new arrival’s up and about!”

Her companions looked his way as well, and he felt very on the spot. The redhead—Clemence, one of the healers—smiled. “Krile said you were well enough now.”

“Welcome!” the roegadyn in mage’s robes said, beaming. “Always nice to meet a new comrade.”

Comrade. Was he? G’raha smiled politely as Clemence made introductions (he would have to ask her about Alianne’s grandfather, discreetly, later), and pondered that implication.

Did the others actually want him to stay? Now that all in the First was complete and they were home, would the sins he had committed as the Crystal Exarch cause conflict?

And there were the memories of his younger self, of his comrades in the remaining Students of Baldesion, the Sons of St Coinach, of NOAH, which in turn led him to recall the Garlond Ironworks. Memories that conflicted with his elder self, and the difficulty of remembering the original Biggs’ face, versus that of his descendant in that other timeline.

After a round of introductions, where he managed to avoid saying much of himself, he took a seat at the bar, where a miqo’te woman stepped up and smiled. “Feeling overwhelmed?”

“Just a bit,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, I am G’raha Tia.”

She smiled. “F’lhaminn Qesh,” she replied.

Minfilia’s adoptive mother! The fabled Songstress of Ul’dah herself. Once again, the historian in him thrilled, reminded that he walked among those who in a later time would be considered legends.

And he was simply…G’raha Tia.

“You’ve had a long recovery, and will need yet more time. Think you can handle a traditional Ul’dahn lunch?” F’lhaminn asked warmly.

G’raha nodded, uncertain how to feel at being waited on by a woman who in so many stories was held in the sort of reverence granted to the parents of sainted figures such as the Oracle of Light.

Except Minfilia was not the Oracle in this world; she was the Antecedent, if no less important for her work in founding the Scions.

“There you are,” a blessedly familiar voice said.

G’raha turned and smiled gratefully as Krile joined him. “And how are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better, and hopefully a meal will only improve things.”

“Good; you’re looking a little pale yet.” She tilted her head, watching him. “Or is that the general feeling of being overwhelmed?”

She always had been too perceptive; knowing now that she possessed the Echo, and how sensitive hers was, that made far more sense. “A bit of both, I think,” he answered honestly. “A part of me still feels as though I walk among legends, especially now that I am…myself, again.”

Not that he ever truly would be; the consequences of merging his timelines into one self was going to be an ongoing process, he suspected.

Krile smiled. “Says the former Crystal Exarch,” she teased. “From all I hear, you have accomplished your own share of extraordinary feats, old friend.”

When not stumbling through the process every step of the way. What he wouldn’t give for Y’shtola’s calm confidence, or Thancred’s steadfast bravery, or Urianger’s clever dedications. And then of course, there was their champion…

To Krile, he merely shrugged and smiled sheepishly again. “I did what I could,” G’raha said. “But that time is past, and now I must find my way in this new future.”

“You will,” she said warmly, reaching over to pat his hand. “And we’ll be here to help, every step of the way.”

“Truly?” he couldn’t help but ask quietly.

“Of course!” she replied, beaming. It was familiar and comforting, reminding him of youthful times and old dreams shared in too late conversations.

Perhaps some things had not changed. Perhaps he had an anchor after all, to help him navigate this new, uncharted course his continuing life had taken.

F’lhaminn set down meals for them both, delighting Krile, the two women falling into easy conversation.

G’raha picked up his fork, content to listen, and settle in.

[avatarmerida]

Ok now future Willow meeting present Hunter (and yeah, greeting him in a way he absolutely dies) I love these sm!!!! 😭😭😭

Okay listen. It’s short and goofy buuuuut I guess we do need to compete the square.

———

Hunter and Luz once again fell from the sky, not too far from where they had originally left but uncertain how far they were from thejr correct time.

“Is portal jumping supposed to make you so nauseous?” Luz inquired, holding her stomach.

“They’re artificial portals, so they’re more unpredictable and less dependable,” said Hunter, feeling equally dizzy.

“Aw, Lilith said the same thing about Eda once,” Luz recalled fondly.

“Nevertheless, we have to be careful,” said Hunter rising to his feet. “We should find the others and make sure we’re in the right-.”

“Hey Gus, I found them!” came a voice down the way and Luz and Hunter saw Willow off in the distance. Luz waved to her friend as she summoned Clover to fly over to them quicker and she couldn’t help but notice her brother watched her silently as a blush crept onto his face.

“Oh look, now you have another chance to ask if she thinks you’re cute,” teased Luz in a whisper.

“Do not mention that,” he said in a panicked whisper of his own.

“Oh c’mon, I don’t think she changed her mind,” said Luz, playfully elbowing his ribs.

“Luz, I’m not gonna let you embarrass me in front of Willow twice in one-.” He was cut off but a blur of green as Willow nearly knocked him over with the force she embraced him with as she hopped off her staff. She trapped his arms at his sides and lifted him off the ground as she spun him around, laughing in delight. When she finally set him down, he attempted to process his feelings to properly greet her but before he could she pulled him down into a firm, eager kiss.

Willow held him down like he was floating way and Hunter became a worthless noodle, a melted popsicle, total putty in her hands. He knees forgot how to work and as soon as Willow released him, he feel straight to the ground like a pile of bricks.

Willow simply giggled and looked at him fondly. “Hi.”

Luz examined the plant witch who stood before her and squinted in suspicion. “Okay, am I crazy or are you-.”

“Oh no, I’m not the Willow you came here with,” she said with a knowing smile. “Well timeline wise at least. Time pools or whatever, ya know? I’m guessing by Hunter’s hair that we’re just a couple months apart.”

“Soooo does that mean in the future, you and Hunter are-.”

“We’re kind of dating, yeah,” she giggled, rocking on her heels as she brushed her hair behind her ear to show off a sparkling gold earring.

“Oh! We’re gonna be sister-in-laws!” Luz squealed. “Oh, wow Amity owes me so much money.”

“Okay, calm down I’m not from that far in the future,” she laughed. “But, I should probably go find my Hunter; this has been happening all day.”

“You just... go around kissing Hunters?” Luz asked.

“Yeah,” she said with a laugh, admiring the passed out boy from the past still laying on the ground. “It’s kinda ma thing.”

“But his hair changes a lot, shouldn’t you be able to tell which Hunter is from the past and which is the one you’re dating?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But I guess I just get excited.”

Luz looked down to Hunter on the ground and gently kicked the back of his foot. “Holy cow Willow, I think you killed him.”

“I’m fine!” Hunter insisted enthusiastically from the ground, his voice shaky and whimsical. “I’m totally fine with it! I’m more than fine with it!”

“Awh, he says that every time.” Future Willow said with a smile.

[flipping-the-coin]

Optimus: when and how did you figure out your host was in love with megatron? How did you feel about that? What was it like discovering that? Why didnt Ratchet tell you about your past?

[[TRANSMISSION RECEIVED: SUBJECT = QUERY…. SCANNING…. 88% THREAT LEVEL ALPHA = CENSORING REQUIRED CATAGORIZATION: REROUTING…. SECONDARY SCANS COMPLETE: TRANSMISSION = 61% WITHIN PARAMETERES]]

[[TRANMISSION FORWARDED…. RECEIVED = SEEN]]

[[//RESPONSE IN PROGRESS… RESPONSE COMPLETE: TRANSMISSION SENT//]]

═════════════════

You have a great many questions anonymous one. I am... uncertain of how much I would like to share, but I will answer to the best of my abilities.

Regarding your first query, I was unaware that Orion and Megatron of Kaon were romantically involved until Orion took control of our frame during his stay on the Nemesis. I did not notice much during the war because of other issues that required my attention, but looking now I can see h█ge █ole█ █n my █e█o█y. I have all of Orion's memory within me, but grea█ █h█n█s a█e m█s█i█g, or rather kept from my view. Not only that, but now that my mind is not clouded by pain or fear, I can see just how... grim Orion's life was until he met Megatron. I was distracted at all times during the war, and thus most of the memories I used were of minor events, small instances and habits. They came in flashes along with barrages of data. Very rarely did I fully experience one of Orion's memories. With that in mind, I was totally unaware that Orion and Megatron were anything but brothers.

I see now how wrong that assumption was, but based upon what memories and flashes I was █llowe█ █o a█ces█, that was the extent of their relationship in my mind. That was part of the reason I never fully understood why Orion fought me so hard. Why would he risk everything for one mere companion? I know that up until I took in Bumblebee, I would have never given my life for one mere mortal. Of course that has changed now, but that was my mentality at the time. Now with that said, I was shocked beyond words to learn of their relationship through experiencing their... intimacy.

There is nothing I can imagine worse than having one's frame touched so intimately by one's worst enemy. I hated every moment on the Nemesis, I hated every touch that I could feel but do nothing to stop. I despised every kiss I gave no consent for. It was a torment, especially when they tried to merge.

Simply put, I was distraught, shocked, and horrified all at once. It was the harshest reality check I have endured so far. Learning of Orion and Megatron proved that all I fought for was not as I imagined it. Their love showed █h█t I w█s not nee█e█, t█a█ █y exi█ten█e w█s merely prolongi█g a w█r t█a█ █hould h█ve en█e█ █illen█i█ █go. At the time I could not process that truth, and so I did not change my course of action when I regained control. How could I when my whole life was built on the lie that Orion and Megatron were mere companions drawn apart by differing ideals? Thus, I endured agony and kept silent, trying not to think much of what I experienced. Even now I am not fond of thinking about it and the unwanted engagements on the Nemesis. I understand my host a little better now, but I still believe he was too harsh when it came to my minor interactions with Ratchet.

As for your last question... I have thought on it often myself. Ratchet is not a mech who would lie without reason. As such I can only assume he never told me of Orion and Megatron because he was of the belief that I knew. To my knowledge, me and my host were seen as one and the same until our separation. Ratchet likely thought that I had seen fit to move on from whatever ties I had to Megatron. He did not know that I was not Orion and that I had no idea how close my host and my foe really were. From there I can only guess it never came up because I never asked. I had no reason to question, not when I was constantly occupied.

I hope that answers your questions.

═════════════════

[[TRANSMISSION SENDER = OPTIMUS PRIME = PRIME OF CYBERTRON: LEADER OF THE AUTOBOTS: PRIMUS’S ANGEL: SAVIOR OF CYBERTRON: LOREKEEPER: SIRE]]

[[TRANSMISSION ENDS]]

[bowuigifire]

Hello everyone!

Since Archiveofourown isn't working, I'll be posting here my Fic for Bowuigi ^w^/

I'll be posting each chapter separately, enjoy! <3

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

BURN FOR YOU 🔥💚

SUMMARY: Luigi found himself in a strange alien world, alone and terrified. But perhaps this place isn't so bad?

CHAPTER 1:

A scream tore through Luigi’s throat as he failed to grab Mario's hand, disappearing into a swirling vortex filled with dark colors, of greys and deep reds, of smoke and fire. Of fear and loneliness.

Not soon after, the green plumber was spat through the pipe, groaning as he was thrown onto a very warm ashen land. He hold his eyes closed, as he struggled to move, feeling his clothes getting uncomfortably sticky against his skin. With some difficulty, Luigi sat up and groaned, holding his aching head which notified him of the absence of his beloved hat. He flinched at the pain, before looking around him. It's hard to see in the dark and fog but he spotted dead trees, and... Lava... Everywhere. Mario was nowhere to be found. Swallowing back his fear, he stood up in shaky legs. Not far from him, he spotted his flashlight and quickly grabbed it. It didn't turn on immediately and he smacked it once, only for it to turn back off. With a frustrated sigh, he turned his attention to his surrounding.

A light breeze, smelling of smoke, hit his sweaty forehead reminding him of his missing hat. He quickly found it on the ground close to him and took it, putting the green hat with the letter L onto his head as he scanned again the strange landscape. He was quite certain this wasn't Brooklyn.

As he took his tool bag, the green clad man tried to turn on the flashlight again, hitting it a few more times until it worked. He moved it around the forest, hoping to see more than lava. "Mario..?" He whispered, uncertain. "Mario? Where are you?" He tried again. No response.

Luigi spun around, looking for any sign of, well, anything. Better than being alone, right? Still, nothing beyond could be seen. His tool bag got abruptly caught on a branch and, with a yelp, the human tried to tug it off, stumbling back in the process. This is it, he thought in dismay, I'm dead and trapped in hell. As soon as that thought came he heard a twig snap. A yelp escaped from his dry lips. On high alert, tense and terrified, Luigi moved through the forest, spinning around with every step as he kept on walking. He heard noises all around him, hoping it was Mario who was pulling a very cruel prank on him, or at the very least a small and definitely not dangerous animal. As he whirled around with the flashlight, he barely caught sight of glowing yellow eyes.

He quickly snapped back to the spot he'd seen it, only to see there was nothing there.

"No, no, no..." Luigi mumbled to himself. His flashlight turned itself off and he screamed, hitting it roughly and desperately searching around for the creature.

The light came on again only to illuminate a boney creature appearing in front of him, two bright pupils shining in dark holes about to jump at the green plumber. Luigi screeched in terror. Not even a second later he spun on his heel and ran, the flashlight left behind.

As he kept running he turned to look behind him, only to collide against a branch which threw him back into his chaser, painfully. The creature's body fell apart on impact, living Luigi bruised but whole to stand up on trembling knees. Once his heartbeat calmed down enough and he could process what just happened, he saw that the creature was still on the ground, unmoving. Luigi couldn't help but laugh, proud of himself. The danger had passed. See, fratello? I don't need you. I can take care of myself!

"Yes!" He pointed at the skull, which was wearing his hat. He picked up the skull off the ground, appearing lifeless now that it was disembodied, and promptly said with a smirk on his daft face, his mustache twitching in his smile, "You just got Luigi'd." The plumber took his hat back and put it on to his own head. Just then, the fire in the creatures eye sockets reignited and, as the head was thrown away from him in another yell, the bones around him began moving on its own and reforming itself. It growled. Luigi felt fear increase ten fold. The strange looking turtle-like skeleton started to approach him, blocking his only exit and pushing him closer and closer to the lake of lava behind him.

Luigi whimpered, wishing his brother was there. Mario would fight. Mario would fine a way to get outta this place. As another whimper escaped from him, he saw another boney hand appear from the ground. More and more skeletal creatures arose and he shrank away, shaking. No. He took a deep breath. I can do it.

A sudden burst of determination shown on his blue eyes, pushing past the creatures and running past it as fast as he could. In the distance he could see what appeared to be an abandoned castle. I can hide there. Panic rose in his throat at what he saw, a crumbled bridge surrounded by lava as his only access to safter. Without thinking, he leapt across it, jumping from stone to stone, crossing the pool of lava. He didn't notice the heat making beads of sweat appear on his forehead and neck, trailing down. Or the bottoms of his shoes slightly melting, feet stinging at the burns he received. He didn't care. The skeletal turtle creatures chased after him, unbothered by the lava. He's so close. The plumber managed to kick a few off him and pulled himself onto the land. Not yet save, he run to the entrance and pushed quite easily the heavy doors, many hands reaching to grab him as he tried his hardest to shut it, using a piece of wood to lock it in place.

A beat of silence later, he felt a surge of relief, his aching body slumping against the wood. He did it.

Thunder rumbled outside, sounding close. Luigi was safe, yes, but alone in a strange world full of half dead turtle like things. He didn't know where he or his brother were. Was he in danger, too? He hoped not. Luigi smiled sadly at his predicament. It would be his luck to be in this kind of situation, not Mario's.

He stayed where he was, sitting against the wood, just in case, and tried to control his breathing. I'm safe, now. I'm okay. He closed his eyes at the same time as lightning flashed outside, illuminating his exhausted expression and dozen tiny masked creatures near him. Soon, he lost consciousness.

[wolfwrenbrainrot]

All the thoughts I ever had about SW ship wars from 2015 to 2023?? And why I ship Wolfwren I guess Idk

⚠️ DISCLAIMER ⚠️

I’ll be discussing the ship wars that are happening right now in the ahsoka fandom and compare it to how my perception about the fandom war that happened during the sequel era changed with the years). Oh, and I’m going to get into some tangencies that may not make much sense most of the time, so reading this to the end is on your own account. I ended up being a bit cynical too, but not in a mean way, I hope?

.

.

.

.

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I usually give up everytime I start writing an opinion on tumblr, because most of the time I just think my opinion won’t change anything, but the ahsoka fandom got “revived” (not that it was dead, but, well, we haven’t had any new episodes and to an extent the most of us move on to others shows a little until we get new content, like it happened these last few days) and I’ve been thinking about this show all on my own for a while (my friends aren’t really into Star Wars stuff, so they can listen, but they’ll never GET IT like interacting with fans online will). I’m explaining myself too much, but all I mean by that is that by writing this, I don’t intend to add fuel to the fire. That’s why i won’t tag sab//ra, r//lo or mention the ships just because I don’t want to upset those of them that can have normal conversations about media nor trigger those that can’t (which, thankfully, doesn’t seem to apply to all sab//zras). So, if you don’t like Wolfwren, you’ll only see this if you are looking for a ship you don’t like or if you’re invested enough in not liking it to check the anti tag. I’m not judging, we all been there. In fact, I was there during the sequel era, with a ship that is pretty similar in dynamic to Wolfwren. It was also pretty similar to a ship I loved at the time, Catradora, from Netflix’s She’ra. So, yeah, I was a big hypocrite. I still kinda think sapphic enemies to lovers is the superior taste of the trope, but that’s because I’m so profoundly gay it would scare the gayest gay, so obviously the ships I’m more invested in are sapphic. It’s a given. But my point is, now I see the whole R//lo argument from a different angle, that you can disagree with, but I believe is more realistic:

I don’t ship it.

Although it is an illusion to believe our taste in fiction is not related to who we are as people (because blah blah blah capitalism blah blah blah I’m a commie), it is possible to distinguish what we want from two fiction characters and how we expect to meet our partners in real life lmao.

(This next part I’m a bit uncertain of how it’ll be perceived, but I hope it makes sense. Please, both R//los and antis that may or may not be reading this, be patient and try to understand what I’m trying to say.

Yes, Finn was casted aside by Lucasfilm. Yes, K//lo getting a more prominent role in the films played a part in this whole process. Yes, there was a part of the R//lo fandom that was racist to John Boyega. This is also true for the Star Wars fandom as a WHOLE, because there was plenty of shitty dudebros complaining about the same shit they’re complaining today, “woke culture” and all that crap, just because they decided to have a woman and a black man as the protagonists. A decision that most likely wasn’t made by those executives thinking: “Oh, wouldn’t it be so great if we made a few minorities feel seen in this universe many of them really love?”. But it did that.

The Force Awakens came out and, despite being, at the same time, a remake of A New Hope and a continuation of Return of the Jedi, its new characters had SO. MUCH. POTENTIAL. And, limitations imposed by mainstream products made by big corporations and set in galaxies far, far away from ours aside, black people and women felt represented. It is one of the many contradictions of symbolic effect of minorities groups being represented in media produced in the system that oppress them (commie, warned you). Does it change things? No, not really. Isn’t it usually done it a way full of limitations that sometimes reinforce certain ideas that are pretty harmful? Yeah… Kind of… But didn’t it feel great, after growing up frustrated that Leia wasn’t a Jedi in the old movies, to have Rey? Wasn’t it awesome that black people got Finn? This complex (at least, it started that way) defected stormtrooper turned rebel? That could, maybe, even be force sensitive…? Yes to all of those questions! Tricky, isn’t it? By the way, I do believe that (before TROS) Finn had the narrative placement of Han (reluctant hero), Poe had Leia’s (rebel leader that gets captured and literally puts important information in a droid lmao), Rey had Luke’s (lives a boring life but has a calling to the adventure blah blah blah becomes a hero, we all heard it so many times) and Kylo had Vader’s (villain that’ll eventually get redeemed by the hero). All basic, old hero’s journey. A story structure that, despite being critical of, I eat up every fucking time it envolves spaceships and lightsabers. Getting back to the point, representation has its limits but it matters and the Star Wars fandom is full of racist, sexist pieces of shit and there was a percentage of the R//lo fandom that were too. But shipping R//lo isn't, like, intrinsically racist. You can make an argument for the implications of Adam Driver being chosen as a romantic interest (both by many fans and by Lucasfilm) over John Boyega, but at the same time there is, to some degree a level of which trope (friends to lovers or enemies to lovers) attracts you more. For me, it depends. I was a Finnpoe with a soft spot for Finnrey and an anti R//lo. But I’m obsessed with Wolfwren. Guess I like non-menacing men and evil lesbians. Wonder why Ezra Bridger is my favorite Rebels character and I ship Wolfwren. 🤔

Going back to the “Opinion on R//lo checklist”:

Would I like to meet my future partner by being kidnaped? No, not really. Do R//lo shippers want that? I think it's pretty safe to say they don't, even if they joke about it as much as I do about wanting Shin Hati to stab me. Because, ohh, right, it's a fictional movie about spaceships, galatic wars and space wizards. Yeah, I totally forgot about that when I was younger.

So, shipping R//lo doesn't mean you condone abusive relationships or domestic violence or whatever. Same applies to Wolfwren. ‘Cause, like, they aren't in a relationship yet, they’re not even friends or allies… They're on opposite sides of a war. You’re supposed to try to kill each other. Some people are just intrigued by the tension/dynamic between two characters and some others are just attracted to the characters and want to read about them fucking, and if it upsets you enough that you need to try to annoy people into stop shipping it… you need to rethink your relationship with fiction. I’m saying this because I had to do it, too. I went on with the mob and statements I agree to this day got mixed up with a bunch of nonsense and I thought that by being anti R//ylo I was making a statement, I was fighting against the romanticization of toxic relationships. I wasn't. It’s like that Luca Guadagnino’s film, “Bones and all”. Canibalism as a metaphor for love has been explored in multiple ways, by multiple artists in paintings, films, novels… Does it mean all the people who produced and consumed those works want to eat human flesh?

There’s also different ways of shipping an ETL ship. I love Wolfwren, and, in fanon, I don't mind it getting super angsty and fucked up, Killing Eve style, but I also love it when it's a slowburn romance with them going from enemies to reluctant allies to slowly building a friendship and falling in love. Do you see the range? Shipping is also about imagination, about overanalyzing things, about wondering what could character x possibly bring to character y? If Wolfwren ever does become canon, my perfect scenario would be the slowburn one, though I’ll love every second of them fighting and stare into each other's eyes until then.

If you ship S/b/rza, it doesn't mean you're homophobic. Unless you, well, use homophobic rhetoric to hate on Wolfwren and/or its shippers. This homophobic rhetoric can also be an attempt of being (hate to use this word) “woker” than the person shipping a gay ship and saying the queer people shipping Shin and Sabine are actually reinforcing lesbian stereotypes. Triste me when this is not the hot take you seem to think it. Maybe try researching a bit about queer representation in media, queercoding and the hays code era. Or try to put yourself in our shoes. As I stated above, representation has its limits but it matters and increases our ability to connect to the pieces of fiction we're consuming. In my case, as much as I can enjoy it, there's always gonna be a degree of alienation when it comes to “straight people media”. That's why I headcanon characters as sapphic. Because I am. That's why autistic people headcanon characters as being autistic. Same goes for trans people and other minority groups that do the same. So, in the end, it doesn't really need to be canon and even after today I’m still not that hopeful, ‘cause, again, it's Disney. If anything, there's always a possibility that, if Shin lives, she ends up being paired up with a random dude just so people can't call her a lesbian (this has never, ever, stopped a lesbian before tho lol). I'm guessing whatever happens with Wolfwren won't affect what happens to S/b/rza. I may be proven wrong in the future but I think they closed that door in the show, at least for now. Filoni doesn't seem that interested in writing romance to me, especially this time around. We are yet to see physical or romantic attraction being even remotely alluded to in this show. (S/b/rzas interpretation of Sabine's motivation to find Ezra or my interpretation of the tension between Shin and Sabine doesn't change that). It's a pretty sexless show (and I’m not saying they should have explicit sex on a Star Wars show, but George Lucas didn't shy away from romance and showcasing attraction and romantic love). I believe that's why he made sure to “discard” S/b/rza, despiste knowing it was a relatively popular ship in the Rebels fandom (obviously it doesn't stop anyone from shipping it, but it is an indicative of how Filoni intended us to perceive their dynamic). You know what I mean? Wolfwren happening or not, being or not supported by the cast and crew, doesn't change anything for your ship. And to be really honest, it is kind of funny to me that some people feel threatened by Wolfwren. ‘Cause, like, even if Filoni wants to make it canon, in the end it will be up to Lucasfilm and Disney to allow it or not and the best they gave us so far is Velcinta in Andor. Do you truly believe we have a better chance at getting our endgame than you do? Come on, guys. Please. I don't think any of us will, just to be clear, but even if Wolfwrens “win” this ship war, it won't be like some injustice or disrespect towards the s/b/rza fandom. Same goes for s/b/rza, because unlike Poe x Zorrii that was a last minute, pulled of their ass straight romance that only existed to send the very clear message that Poe Dameron is a heterossexual man (lol, he isn't). Ezra and Sabine do have a history together that I see as platonic but can be interpreted as romantic. And you will still be able to ship it, even if Sabine ends up with Shin. That's why fanfiction exist. If she ends up with Ezra, I’ll keep reading my Wolfwren fanfics and be happy with it. At the end of the day, it's just fiction. I care enough about it to write a long ass Tumblr post, but not to make me actually upset over a relationship that isn't my own.

[dragonnwriter]

Inviolable Bindings

Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC

All Chapters Here!

***NSFW Chapter!!!*** 18+ No Minors!

Chapter 25

Viserra felt the breath leave her body the moment words came from Aemond’s mouth. The confession was something she did not know she needed to hear. His warm hand remained under her chin as she admired the way the sapphire sparkled in the candlelight. It was a dangerous and uncertain path they were headed on, but she couldn't deny the allure of the possibilities that lay ahead.

“I did ask it of you,” she confirmed, her finger tracing around his scar. Maybe it was the vulnerability and intimacy that they had just shared, but at the moment she believed his words. They would be able to conquer whatever war would bring and also attain the power he spoke of. "Though we must be careful," she continued, "we cannot let such a desire blind us to the consequences of our actions.”

Drawing in a much needed breath, Viserra brought her lips up to his. The kiss was full of intensity and passion, both reveling at the power and responsibility suddenly laid at their feet. She brought herself up to straddle his lap. The heat between their bodies seemed like it could have lit a fire right there on the bed.

Without breaking their lips apart, Aemond firmly wrapped his arms around her waist to lift and place her underneath him. Completely surrendered to the moment, she did not resist and willingly let him guide her to where he wanted.

Carefully, he set one hand on either side of her head, pulling himself from the kiss and meeting her eyes with his one. His silver hair fell over his shoulders, framing the sharp features of his face. Their breathing momentarily became the only sound heard in the dim room as they held each other's intense gaze.

“Aemond,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. She studied his face in an attempt to decode the thoughts running through his mind. The only thing she could decipher was something mixed between primal lust and darkness. If she had been right in her reading of him, it was also something she felt mirrored within herself.

Viserra wrapped her legs around his slim figure, pulling his body closer to hers. In response to the desperate behavior, he lowered himself down to his elbows and brought his face closer to hers.

“Nuha Dāria, ” he mumbled into her mouth, quickly consuming her with a kiss before she could formulate a reply or process his words. My Queen.

Continuing to distract her with his lips, Aemond reached around her leg to align himself with her entrance. Realizing she was still slick from their previous activity, he let out a satisfied chuckle. There was no hesitation in the way he ravished her  now, but for some reason he held back from actually taking what he wanted.

The anticipation drove her wild and a split second of worry flashed across her mind when she felt him pull his mouth from hers. Furrowing her brow, she looked over his face again to try and understand if and what game he was playing.

“I want to know how much you want this,” he growled into her ear. The sudden demand sent shivers over her skin.

Viserra understood this game. He wanted to be desired and accepted yet still needed to ultimately feel like he was the one in control. “Gods Aemond, really?” She whined, a half laugh left her lips with the words. “You need not hold back from me.”

“Not sufficient,” he spoke, bringing his mouth down to her neck and starting with soft nips to her skin.

“I want you, Aemond,” she breathed, the words not far from the truth, “I might turn to dust if you up and left me in this state.”

“Say it again,” he growled, the words muffled into her neck.

For whatever reason, his demands did not seem to bother her at all.

“Avy jorrāelan,” she pressed, her voice more sure and clear. “Sir.” I need you. Now.

He immediately released his hand and pushed himself into her, a gasp leaving her mouth at the same time. In a poor attempt to ground himself, Aemond bit down on the flesh just above her collarbone, the combination of sensations seemed to scramble her thoughts for a moment.

His movements were slow and careful, though she was not sure if it was for her own comfort or the fact that the anticipation of this moment had left him needing to pace himself. Their bodies felt as if they were melting into each other as his steady rhythm began to pick up pace.

Satisfied with the amount of attention he had paid to her flesh, Aemond brought his hand up to brace the side of her neck. His rough thumb traced the curve of her jaw before settling just below her chin. She felt his hand slightly tighten its hold in its place, something that made her momentarily pause with apprehension.

As she brought her eyes up to him, she stared with an intensity that he would not be able to ignore. Once again, he had placed her in a vulnerable position where he could easily overpower her.

It did not take Aemond long to sense the change in her energy. Bringing his movements to a stop, he met her with an equal amount of reservation, “Tell me to stop and I will,” he promised.

The seriousness of his expression reassured her he was telling the truth. If they had not just established the level of trust between each other only moments before, the gesture might have been unwelcomed. Viserra felt her nerves begin to settle and she simply blinked at him in response.

Aemond searched her face for any indication that she was still apprehensive but did not find one. She curled her lips into a smile while reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. The message seemed clear enough, something he acted on without hesitation.

Fueled by the permission she had given him to take control, Aemond again tightened his thumb over her throat. The deliberate pressure did not impede her ability to breath but gave her a rush she had never experienced before. It was a delicate balance between power and surrender, proof that the connection only continued to strengthen between them.

Their bodies met in perfect sync, both of their pleasures building in response to every change in sensation and touch. Eventually, Aemond’s control wavered as his movements became more urgent and the need for release almost overcame his desire to also bring her to her peak.

He observed as Viserra’s breath hitched in her throat, silently pleading with him to keep his rhythm strong and steady. As his gaze locked with hers, he conveyed his own quiet understanding by continuing his movements with intense precision. His grip tightened once more as he watched the waves of pleasure crash over her. Using her legs to pull him tightly into her body, he could no longer hold himself back. The contractions of her core sent him spiraling out of control and with one final thrust, he let himself release into her.

Somewhere in the peak of their combined pleasure, he had let go of her neck and wound his fingers in her silver hair. Their ragged breathing seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet room and it took a long moment for each of them to gain their composure.

As they slowly came down from the euphoria, Aemond brought himself up to place a gentle kiss to her lips. His touch was now much more tender and affectionate, almost as if he did not want to let her go. Their bodies remained entwined as they laid there, both simmering in everything that had happened the last hour.

Viserra locked her eyes on the canopy above her, slowly blinking as she walked herself through the events that led them to be entwined on the bed. Feeling the natural pause in their interaction, Aemond finally pulled himself off of her, bringing himself to sit on the edge of the bed.

Quietly following in suit, Viserra took her place next to him. She felt his eyes on her but did not turn his way to acknowledge it. There was something nagging at her in the back of her mind that she could not shake off.

After sitting next to each other for a brief moment, she stood and made her way over to the mirror. Her own violet eyes stared back in the reflection as she bit her tongue in an attempting to withhold the thoughts pressing on her mind.

Aemond’s tall figure had suddenly appeared behind her, the dim lighting and their similar coloring and features making it almost an eerie sight. Peering over her shoulder, he studied the unreadable expression on her face

“Is something the matter?” He questioned, watching as she did not break the eye contact she held with herself in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling thst something was most definitely amiss.

“Nuha Dāria,” she breathed. “Why did you call me that?”

“It is an endearing term that-”

“I know what it means,” she interrupted, now bringing herself to look at him in the reflection. “Why did you call me that?”

A tense silence fell between them as neither broke the gaze they shared. Viserra thought to the last time she was addressed as such, when the words had been uttered from his brother’s mouth in a similar fashion.

“I do not know,” he finally responded, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher her reaction. “Does it offend you somehow?”

Aemond would not admit the truth out loud; he felt he deserved the power and position that his brother had been given freely. That only a fool would look between the two of them and believe that Aegon would be more successful in leading the Seven Kingdoms. Establishing the trust and bond with Viserra that day only furthered the feelings of jealousy and entitlement. If he had ever been given the opportunity to rule, especially with someone such as her by his side, he would take it without a second thought.

“I am not and will not be anyone’s queen,” she insisted, turning herself around and looking up into his face. She watched carefully as Aemond seemed to fall back into his own thoughts.

“My apologies, I did not mean to offend you,” he spoke.

The way he pressed his lips together indicated that he was withholding something. Regrettably, she understood that even if she probed, his self control would remain steadfast, and she wouldn't learn the undisclosed information unless he chose to share it.

“I have taken no offense, I just do not wish to be addressed as such,” she replied, breaking her gaze and looking around past him to locate her clothing.

As she attempted to make her way around his figure, his strong hand suddenly gripped on to her forearm. Viserra looked up into his face to find him still fighting to hold back his words.

“You would not deny it,” he finally blurted out.

Both of them stood still, staring at each other with furrowed brows. Aemond’s hand did not waver as it remained tightly wrapped around her wrist.

“Together you and I could attain an unimaginable amount of power,” he admitted, the words seemed almost strained as they left his lips.

It was a realization that had become increasingly apparent since her arrival in King's Landing. They complimented eachother seamlessly in the skies and with the sword. Though she was gradually coming to understand that his ambitions extended beyond mere prowess in combat. A large part of hum truly desired to sit on the throne.

She hesitated for a moment, grappling with the many combinations of words racing through her mind. In the end, she decided to respond both simply and honestly.

“I would not deny it,” she admitted, pulling her arm back from his grasp.

Aemond did not reply, though his expression no longer indicated that he was fighting with himself. She turned from him and quietly walked over to her clothes, quickly dressing before continuing to engage in any more conversation.

Viserra was acutely aware that the dynamics of the relationships she was navigating were markedly difference from one another. At some point, those paths crashing into each other was a very real possibility. She had been placed in the middle of an invisible power struggle and a family who was already trying to tear eachother apart. Today, however, she did not want to continue trying to sort out this impossible situation. There had been much more important and pressing matters in hand.

Viserra turned in Aemond’s direction as she finished putting on her boots. Not surprisingly, he was already dressed and now gracefully securing the eyepatch over his recently tidied hair. She took a moment to take in how put together and reserved he now appeared, a stark difference from his figure that had been draped over her just minutes before.

“The council will most likely be arriving soon. It would be best if we started that way.” The tone of Aemond’s voice indicated that his thoughts had already moved on to the things needing to be addressed in the day’s meeting. She was relieved to see that he also prioritized this and was able to change course with ease.

Using her fingers to comb through her hair, Viserra loosely tied the silver strands back into a braid. Aemond walked towards her, taking his turn to examine her now dressed silhouette. There was a brief moment where they held each other’s gaze before he leaned down to pick the belt and blades off of the floor next to her. Without saying a word, he fastened the weapons to her body while flashing just the hint of a smile.

“Let us take our leave,” he spoke, gesturing his hand to the door and giving her the opportunity to take the lead.

Viserra did not hesitate in making her way out of the room, a hundred things running through her mind as they silently walked down the long corridors. She found she was looking forward to the inevitable decanter of wine that would be waiting for them once they sat at the table. Something to take the edge off. 

It did not take long to reach the council chamber, though as soon as they stepped into the room Viserra realized her and Aemond were the last to join. Most of the council members were deep within their own conversations, but both Aegon and Otto’s eyes were immediately drawn to their entrance.

“Ah, Brother, Cousin!” Aegon exclaimed, his hands slapping down on the wood of the table. The eyes of the room were suddenly all drawn to the pair though neither of them seemed to acknowledge the extra attention.

“Where is our mother?” Aemond asked, his eye first glancing to his grandsire before scanning the room as if to confirm her absence. They both settled into the seats on either side of the king, Viserra intentionally making eye contact with any of the council who cared to look in her direction.

“She is tending to our sister at the moment,” Aegon replied quietly. He did not seem to offer an invitation for any further discussion on the matter, only turning to address the rest of the room. “It has been brought to my attention that the continued questioning of our prisoner has only confirmed what we all know to be true.”

The silence in the room after Aegon stopped speaking was deafening. Each and every council member had given the king their undivided attention.

“It has also come to my attention that we have lost yet another house to Rhaenyra’s forces leaving us no more support in the Riverlands.” The words seemed to sour as they came from Aegon’s mouth.

It was now Otto who cleared his throat, getting the attention of his grandson, “Your Grace, I might remind you that though we have lost support in some areas, we have gained in others. We are also waiting for a raven to return from the Triarchy any day now. I feel confident in eventually gaining their support.”

Anger and resentment immediately rushed over Aegon, it was obvious by looking at him that he was trying to figure out how to say his next words without appearing bitter. Viserra took a moment to look between them, hoping that whatever came out of Aegon’s mouth was at least thought out and calculated.

“But we have not heard from the Triarchy, have we? Therefore we have no support from them.” Aegon took a breath and stood before continuing on, “Forgive me Grandsire, but I will no longer sit around in this castle idly. The pretender queen and her supporters slaughtered my son, the heir to the Iron Throne. This is the highest of treasons! We will act accordingly and they will pay in blood.”

The tension that quickly filled the room could have been cut with a knife. Viserra felt pleased that Aegon was finally showing the small council that he had the drive and determination to rule.

Studying each of them, she noted the wide eyed expressions on all except Lord Strong’s face. There was not a time that she had made eye contact with the man that didn’t make her skin crawl. He was always intently watching yet never speaking, something she recognized as both an intelligent and dangerous trait.

Without moving a millimeter from his position, he brought his eyes to meet hers. Though her first instinct was to avoid the gaze altogether, she consciously would not let herself appear uncomfortable under his watch. Both seemed to share an understanding that the other might play a larger role in things behind closed doors. But it wasn’t until Otto spoke once more that they both redirected their attention to what was unfolding in front of them.

“It is important that we are patient and do not act when our emotions are running high, Your Grace. We must continue to secure our allies before we make an attempt to strike down our foes.” Otto’s voice remained stern and there seemed to be a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“We have been patient,” Aegon spat, “Each day you tell me a raven brings more news of houses swearing fealty to Rhaenyra. We cannot win a war with letters and words. We will win by swift planning and action, something that you have proven to me is not in your expertise.”

Though the actual words had not yet left his mouth, Viserra suddenly realized the gravity of the situation that was now playing out in front of them. Briefly she shared a look with a stumped Aemond, who had been studying his brother in an attempt to decode the meaning of this interaction.

“Your time as Hand has come to an end, Grandsire,” he announced. “We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown. I will come to you when I need your advice on future matters.”

Undoubtedly there were many things running through Otto’s mind at that moment, though he did not show any indication of such. After giving a slow bow to his king, he took the pin from his doublet and set it on the table before him. Without another word, he turned from them and swiftly took his leave.

The silence continued to suffocate the room until the doors had closed after Otto’s departure. Though the tension was still palpable, it did not seem to affect Aegon in the slightest. He reached down and picked the shiny pin up off of the table, holding it in his hand and then turning to look at the man behind him.

“Ser Criston, please come forward and accept this pin,” he announced, “You will help carry out justice for the Crown and lead us to victory. Continuing to serve as Lord Commander but now also as Hand of the King.”

The knight stepped forward and bowed to his king. “It would be an honor, Your Grace,” he spoke reverently.

Viserra first looked over to Aemond to see if he had outwardly expressed any reaction. To her surprise, he seemed rather pleased, the corner of his mouth upturned into a subtle smirk.

Ignoring the continued shock that the rest of the small council seemed unable to shake, Aegon seated himself at the table again and wasted no time diving into the next matter at hand.

“Now, I believe I was clear that we must make my half-sister answer for her crimes,” Aegon started, looking around to the others sitting at the table, “Does not one of you have a feasible idea on how to make this happen?”

Ser Criston did not waste any time diving into his new role and voicing his opinion. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and spoke directly to Aegon.

“I say we fight fire with fire, Your Grace,” he began. “Rhaenyra used covert and treacherous means to slaughter the innocent here. Might we consider it only fair to return the favor tenfold?”

Aegon’s smile revealed that the words of his new Hand were well received. The intent to now take action was something he felt necessary to ensure their survival. In one day, the winds finally seemed to shift directions. The strength of the bindings that tied the three dragonriders to each other felt inviolable. It was now their turn to show that they would not stand down or be intimidated without warfare.