#i’m mad but i’m not supposed to be mad

[caterpillarinacave]

Shouldn’t the Mayor of NYC not be making statements like “…[Luigi Mangione] carried out this terroristic act on my city…” where he presents an individual as a guilty despite that individual not having been found guilty in a fair court of law? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but that feels very much like a statement that does not align with the whole “innocent until proven guilty” thing that is supposed to be “one of the most basic requirements of a fair trial” in the United States of America.

[sthilarions]

Charles does get angry at Edwin sometimes. Of course he does. He has a hell of a temper, and Edwin, bless him, as madly as Charles loves him, can admittedly be… difficult. Once in a while.

Charles can’t help being angry, sometimes, but he can make damn sure he never takes that anger out on Edwin, so whenever he gets mad, he leaves. Says “I’ll see you later, Edwin,” and heads out of the office and goes for a run or to beat something up or whatever it is kinda-teenage boys are supposed to do to relieve their emotions.

“I’ll see you later, Edwin,” he says, every time, sometimes through gritted teeth. Well, sometimes it’s “I’ll see you at the meeting,” or “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” but the essence is the same. No matter how hard he has to try to force the words to come out more or less even, he says them. I’ll see you later, Edwin.

Because he figured out very quickly that Edwin thought, every time Charles got mad, this must be the time he’d leave forever.

He’s pretty sure after a few decades Edwin got the idea, realized that Charles really did want to stay, even if Edwin was being difficult, but he still says it - I’ll see you later, Edwin (I’m not leaving you alone, Edwin) - because there might still be that little part of Edwin that will always believe Charles will realize he’s better off leaving someday. And because if he doesn’t say it for the first time, after all these years of repetition, he knows it’ll immediately stand out to Edwin and Edwin will draw his own conclusions.

And no matter how angry he is, he can’t let Edwin think Charles is leaving him, even for a second.

[pomegranatesarchive]

tempura and charles leclerc

tempura: "i'm sorry, babe, are those flashcards?"

view the menu here!

You had never met anyone's family before.

Sure, you had met your friend's family. But boyfriend's family? No, never.

You have heard all the excuses, "How about we wait a little longer", "They don't like to meet new people." and even, "I only let them meet people I'm serious about." That one hurt.

You thought Charles would be the same. So when you brought up the topic of meeting each other's parents. You had prepared yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Only for him to perk up and grin, "I've been meaning to ask you! Do you want to meet my family first? They've been dying to meet you!"

Wait what?

The surprise was clear on your face, and you quickly sputtered out, "No! I mean-Yeah? Yeah, yeah that's good."

That was a week ago. And you hadn't stopped stressing since.

You didnt know what to do, or how you were supposed to act? Probably posh right, yeah families like posh.

You just had to figure out what posh was.

Two days before the dreaded meeting, you came up with a wonderful solution. Studying.

What do people do when they want to feel prepared? Study.

You quickly ran off to the store and picked up a pack of one hundred flash cards. Then you got to work.

You learned everything you could possibly learn about The Leclerc family. Well, everything you could find online. Which was surprisingly a lot.

It was t-minus thirty minutes until the meeting. You were sitting on the corner of your bed, quickly going over everything you've memorized.

"Arthor's twenty-four.." you mumbled to yourself, "Born in the year 2000, and his birthday is..." you paused, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers. "Shit!" you cursed, reaching under your pillow and pulling out your stack of flashcards. Not noticing Chalres who had just walked into your room.

"October 14!" You shook your head, pulling up the flashcard, "Arthur Leclerc, born October 14, 2000."

You sighed, turning around, jumping at the sight of Charles standing by the doorway, surprise clear on his face. You quickly hid the stack of flashcards behind your back.

Charles walked up to you, his lips pursed, "I'm sorry, babe, are those flashcards?"

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, before squeaking out, "No?"

Charles mouth slowly turned up into a smile, “I can see you hiding them.”

You eyed him, leaning back and shaking your head, he wrapped his arms around you in lighting speed, forcing the cards of your hands.

He switched through them as you cringed into yourself, this was it, he was going to call you a weirdo and break up with you.

You watched him anxiously, not noticing the small smile on his face, “This is…a-lot.” he managed.

You jumped to your defense, “I’m not a stalker i swear! I just..like to be prepared, and this is all stuff you can find online, so it’s not like I…dug deep.”

Just then you noticed the smile on his face, “Your not mad?” you whispered.

Charles shook his head, throwing the flash cards on your bed, “No not mad. This is really cute.”

“Seriously?” you squeaked.

“Don’t get me wrong…this is weird.” He laughed, “But at least you care right?”

“I do care!” you cut him off, “I really do!”

Charles smiled softly, interlining his fingers with you, “Good. It makes it less creepy.”

You two smiled at each other, before making your way out of the bedroom.

“Can we not tell people about this?” you mumbled offhandedly.

Charles laughed, “No way. This will be in my wedding vows.”

.

[marvelousels]

THROUGH THE STATIC | PART 2

(part 1 here) n small tags to whoever wanted pt2! @just-levyy @meluksis @zhivaxo

authors note — i guess we're doing a part two? since ppl like my first part and i hope u like this part, part three?? lmkkk xx

pairings: jinx x fem!reader (js freinds for now ig)

ON MY OWN — DARCI playing!

The days had started to blend together after Jinx had appeared in your living room. At first, you were startled, confused, and unsure of what was happening. But soon, you came to realize that chaos was her constant companion, and in some strange way, you had come to expect it. One moment, she’d be curled up on your couch, staring at the TV like she was trying to make sense of the world through someone else’s eyes. The next, she’d be tearing through the house like a storm, her energy manic and unpredictable, her laughter often laced with something darker.

And through it all, you found yourself drawn to her. Her wild, unpredictable nature. Her sorrow and rage buried beneath layers of manic joy. Jinx was never still, never quiet. The hurt was always there, just beneath the surface, like a ticking time bomb.

This evening, you found yourself trying to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself from the madness. But the telltale sounds of destruction started. You didn’t flinch anymore.

You walked into the living room, and there she was, kicking over the bookshelf. Books flew across the room, and her manic laugh echoed through the space. You didn’t even need to ask. You could already feel it—the tension, the darkness.

“Jinx, stop,” you said, voice steady, but there was an edge to it now. She didn’t listen.

“Why?” she snapped, her eyes flicking to you for a split second, wild and frantic. “Books are boring,” she growled. “All these words pretending they mean something. But not me. I’m the real deal. Explosive.” She threw another book across the room, her smile sharp and dangerous.

Something was different tonight. This wasn’t the same chaotic Jinx you’d been getting to know. This Jinx was colder. Angrier. More unstable.

You stepped closer, trying to keep your voice calm. “You don’t have to destroy everything. I’m just trying to help.”

“Help?” Her laugh came again, but it was darker, more deranged. “Help me? You think you can help me?” She turned to face you, her eyes narrowing, her fists clenched at her sides. “None of them could. Not Vi. Not Caitlyn. They never understood. They never wanted to. Vi—Vi was supposed to be there for me.” Her voice cracked, anger and hurt mixing together in a volatile mix. “But she left me. She picked Piltover. She picked that bitch Caitlyn. And I—” Her words came out in a rush, tinged with grief and fury. “I’m just the freak, right?”

Her eyes flashed, her face contorted in disgust. She was pacing now, the tension in the room growing thicker with every word.

“Caitlyn,” she spat, the name like acid on her tongue. “She wants me dead. She’s never going to stop trying to kill me, you know? After everything—I caused that explosion. Killed her mother. And now, Caitlyn wants to make me pay. She wants me in a cage. Or worse...” Jinx’s voice dropped to a low growl. “But I’m not going back to that hell. I’m not going back to their stupid rules.”

You stood there, trying to process what she’d said, her words hitting you like blows. Caitlyn had always been after Jinx, but you’d never heard her express just how deep that hatred ran. She was a target, hunted, cornered by everyone who thought they could fix her. And Vi... Jinx’s sister, the one person who should have stood by her, was now part of that world. Caitlyn’s world. Jinx’s eyes flashed with bitterness at the thought of Vi.

"Vi was supposed to protect me!" she shouted, fists clenched so tight her knuckles went white. "But no. She left me. She chose them. And now she's in Caitlyn's bed. Pretending everything's fine. Pretending I'm just some monster."

You felt a pang in your chest, seeing the hurt in her eyes. She wasn’t just angry. She was broken. She was lost.

Her breathing grew faster, more erratic. "And Caitlyn," she hissed. "Caitlyn... she’s just waiting for me to slip up. She’s just waiting for me to fuck up again. I’m a danger to everyone. I know that. But they don't get it. They never did. Vi never did. They think I’m the monster... But they—" She cut herself off, shaking her head as if the thought alone hurt too much.

You tried to get closer, trying to make sense of the chaos swirling around her. “Jinx...”

“No!” She spun to face you, her eyes wide and frenzied. “Don’t even! Don’t you dare try to fix me. I’m not broken! You hear me? I’m just... different. And they didn’t like that.” She was shaking, her entire body tight with repressed emotion. "You think I’m some fragile little thing, don’t you? That you can ‘help’ me? That you can fix this?” She let out a bitter laugh. “No one can fix me. Not Vi. Not Caitlyn. Not you.”

She was right there—just a breath away, her raw pain nearly suffocating. But instead of the usual chaos, there was something more desperate in her voice now. Her face was twisted, like she couldn’t decide whether to cry or scream. She pulled herself together quickly, though, masking it with that dangerous grin. But it was hollow, jagged, like a broken mirror.

"I don't need them. I don't need anyone," she muttered, falling back onto the couch with a huff. "I'm free, right? Free to do whatever I want. Fuck them." She looked back at the TV, her gaze lingering on the reflection of her own wild face on the screen. “At least I get to choose my own way now.”

You watched her for a moment, torn between wanting to reach out and give her the comfort she so clearly needed... and knowing that doing so might push her away completely. But you couldn’t ignore it. You couldn’t ignore her suffering.

“You don’t have to be alone in this, Jinx,” you said softly. “You don’t have to push everyone away.”

Jinx looked at you, her eyes narrowing for a moment, like she was trying to decide whether or not to let you in. But all she said was, “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, huh?”

Her grin returned, but it was colder. “There’s no fixing me, remember? If you try, bang goes your nice little life.”

Her words hung in the air like a bomb, the tension thick enough to slice through. But for a brief moment, her wild eyes softened. Just a little. “But maybe...” she trailed off, flicking a glance at you. “Maybe you’re not the worst person I’ve met.”

She looked away again, as if she’d just said something she shouldn’t have. You could feel the weight of her words, knowing that, deep down, she still wanted someone. Anyone. But she didn’t know how to ask for it.

She kicked her feet up on the coffee table and grabbed a bag of chips, shoving them into her mouth like she was trying to drown out the thoughts she couldn’t face.

“Whatever,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the chips. “It’s not like I want your help, but... you’re here. So, i'll deal with you ugh,”

You nodded quietly, though you knew better than to expect anything from her. For Jinx, trust was a slow burn, and you were just a stranger in her chaotic mind.

But maybe—just maybe—you were starting to understand the storm inside her.

[nartothelar]

Nar I am consuming your soul eater au with fervor. I am. Obsessed. It brought back so many memories of first watching anime, soul eater was a favorite and you got me into it again, so I’m finally reading the manga! Thank you!

A question, did Ingo infect Emmet the same way Soul infected Maka? Or similarly?

When emmet breaks out of the madness, I know he’ll feel terrible for hurting Ingo. (suspecting he did in that fight? Not sure) When’s the closest the two have come to dying? I suspect Ingo wouldn’t want to hurt Emmet, and that might be detrimental to him comepletely D:

Anyway I’m just super excited to see soul eater content again lol. I hope you’re having fun making it too!!

Right on the money! So Ingo is actually quite resistent to madness, due to his anti-madness/healing wavelength. Due to the nature of Masika’s poison, it wasn’t something Ingo really noticed (and what with the kishin’s return, the growing madness he might have felt within could be blamed on that)

Emmet on the other hand was susceptible to the poison, causing him to fall into madness/succumb to the poison >:)c

As for the other question, both of them, being conductors on the Death Train, have both had close calls due to the frequent kishin attacks on the train. Nothing too serious tho. Nothing like the injury Ingo has now.

she can float 👍 and masika is actually suppose to be inspired by a purple striped jellyfish!

they usually take turns on who gets to eat the kishin soul if they are fighting together tho they also can fight on their own! :D

they both have plenty of kishin souls to become death scythes but since they don’t want to, they really just eat the souls as a rewarding snack after every fight sksks

[amiaclone]

Oh hello! I love the way you write, could you write something like the reader is pregnant by player 333 and he protects her no matter what in the games,ty ✨️

YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR PLAYER 333

Soo since this is basically just Junhee I’m gonna add a bit more to the plot if you don’t mind!

You were in the first games like Gi hun you didn’t win although you escaped after you lost at one of the games (let’s say marbles) was living with Gi hun for a good while then moved out etc met Lee Myung gi (player 333) got you pregnant did the scam etc anyways you wanted to help Gi hun but not get involved but Front man kidnapped you anyways for fun and well….here you are

Since I like Junhee I don’t wanna erase her so she’s like a spy or sm 😔 a whole different plot but interesting still

Anyways here it is!

Lee Myung Gi x Fem! Reader

You sighed in annoyance as your ex came to bother you about if you were okay or needed anything the usual

You didn’t even wanna be here but be with him? No way!

You won’t lie you *did* need help in a place like this but with him? No way!

“Do you need my extra milk? A place like this isn’t fit for someone like you! Bla bla bla” that’s all he ever said

Myung gi and you used to be one of those lovey dovey couples who you’d think would get married or something…..it could of happened if he didn’t end up with you losing your money and ghosting you

For the money? Meh you didn’t care as Gi hun managed to pay off your debts but ghosting? That was cold you called almost everyday and received little knowledge……yeah he deserves what’s coming to him

Currently it was after red light green light and he was bothering you about a new thing!

“You played these games before and never told me?”

You rolled your eyes “Yeah cause telling someone I was kidnapped and forced to play children games and could die is so believable”

He shook his head “Yeah well things like this aren’t just things you can forget about! How did you leave why did you go back-“

You turned to him rather harshly “Not that it concerns you but I don’t wanna be here just as much as anyone else” you sighed staring at your stomach for a bit your child could die here…..you could die here was it really worth it?

He noticed and stood firm “Well I’ll protect you” you gave him a small glare

“How am I supposed to know I can trust you?”

He shook his head “Don’t be stubborn y/n in your condition if the majority votes to stay….your chances are very slim”

You sighed looking up at the roof “Fine. But don’t think this means I have forgotten anything”

He sighed smiling that you’d agree maybe this is a chance to finally make things up with you?

Cue to the six legged pentathlon

You teamed with Gi hun followed by your ex who’s been following you around the whole time like a lost puppy except the puppy is preventing anything from even looking at or touching said person aka you

So far you agreed to do Jegi as it seemed the easiest

“Don’t you think it’d be dangerous-“

“I’m doing it”

Luckily we barely lived even though In ho/Player 001 nearly screwed it over for us and you all headed out

Once again Myung Gi stood by your side you even cheered with him for passing it he smiled

Oh wait your still supposed to be mad at him you quickly erased that smile with a frown

“Well thanks for protecting me i suppose you’ve been nice…”

“Nice enough for me to finally show you I’m sorry?”

“No”

He mentally groaned he knew he messed up but he really did miss you ghosting you was a big regret but he didn’t want you getting involved because people were trying to kill him!

Well atleast you’re nice enough to try tolerating that’s a start…

Cue to mingle

You haven’t seen Myung for almost the whole game and to be honest you were getting kinda worried you were with Gi hun and the team you formed back in six legged pentathlon

The new number was seven you grabbed onto Junhee a kind girl who told you in secret she was a spy for the government (Cool plot might use it for an oc) who you’ve bonded with the whole time you were here

You ran but someone fell you think it was Young Mi? Anyways just as the door was about to close *He* walked in

Ah typical Myung gi smiled staring at everyone specifically you as he expected to be seen as a hero

Why were you kinda relieved to see him?

Which you agreed he did technically save your lifes you empathised heavily with Hyun Ju banging on the door crying for Young Mi it gave you flashbacks of the first games you didn’t lose anyone typically close you can recall but still a sad time..

Anyways Hyun Ju blamed Myung gi while Myung gi defended himself and begged any of us to agree with him which you did

“I’m sorry about Young mi Hyun Ju but he’s got a point we all would have died”

Myung gi seemed relieved and when you were all walking out walked up to you “Thank you for defending me does this mean we can talk? Oh! Watch your step”

He points at the wall when you were a good distance from it you rolled your eyes

“This doesn’t change anything I just agreed with you cause you were right”

Before he could say anything the last round started

It said 2 and he immediately grabbed you before you could even comprehend who it was luckily he found a random door barely and slammed it shut breathing heavily

“Thanks” is all you could mutter heavily breathing

He smiled

“As long as I’m here I’ll protect you”

And why did you feel comforted by that….

I loved this one smmmm we need more Myung gi fanfics! Hope you likeddd it

[morningsharksworld]

*coughs* *drops this and runs away*

~~something something hazard excitedly trying to recount a mission, visibly struggling as reader is, quote unquote, bouncing on it~~

Whimpering like a dog

Hazard x Reader [NSFW MDNI]

A/N: I’m sorry but I couldn’t pass this up, if you know me, I’m in it for whatever to make hazard the biggest fucking bottom because I’m a former believer THAT HE DOES BOTTOM. BUT what about if he gets desperate mid way? FAIR WARNING I got out of my comfort zone for this one. Anyway thank you for the request muzzle anon 👹✨.

Summary: you just couldn’t help yourself…could you? 🤨

Hazard’s bed had always been a sanctuary after long, grueling missions. Tonight was no exception. The soft sheets carried a faint hint of his cologne, mixing with the scent of gunpowder and adrenaline he hadn’t fully washed away. He’d collapsed onto the mattress not long after walking in, but the moment you joined him, his weariness melted away.

Your head rested against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulling you into a sense of peace. His arms wrapped around you possessively, holding you close as if afraid you’d slip away.

“And then—oh, Hen, ye should’ve seen it—I pulled this mad move where I flipped the bloody turret right back on ‘em” Hazard was saying, his voice animated despite his exhaustion. His words carried the unmistakable cadence of his homeland, warm and lilting even as he recounted the chaos.

You loved how his eyes lit up when he talked like this, how even the smallest victories seemed monumental in his retellings. But tonight, your focus wavered. As he spoke, your hips subtly shifted, your thighs pressing together as a warmth bloomed low in your belly.

Hazard’s voice faltered the first time you shifted against him, though he tried to continue. “So, anyway, I ducked under—ach...” A soft gasp escaped him when your movements became deliberate, your hips pressing gently against his growing arousal.

“Hen…” he whispered, his tone wavering between a plea and a warning.

You looked up at him with feigned innocence, your hands splayed across his chest. “What’s wrong?” you asked innocently, your lips curving into a playful smirk.

His cheeks flushed a deep red, and his gaze flickered away for a moment before returning to yours. “Ye ken exactly what yer daein” he murmured, his voice breathy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you replied, your movements slowing but not stopping.

Hazard groaned, his hands moving instinctively to your hips to still you. “Ach, I just got back from a mission” he said, though the protest in his tone was weak. “Ye’re supposed tae be helpin’ me relax.”

Your grin widened as you leaned in, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “And I’m doing just that” you whispered, your voice dripping with mischief.

Hazard shivered beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening. His resolve was crumbling, and you could see it in the way his eyes darkened, his breathing growing heavier. “Yer bloody impossible” he muttered, though the way his hands began guiding your movements told a different story.

“Maybe…” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck. “But you love it.”

=====

Hazard’s cheeks flushed a deeper red as your fingers traced lazy circles over his chest, your hips bouncing with deliberate slowness. His breathing grew ragged, and he couldn’t suppress the soft whimpers that escaped his lips. “Ah- H-Hen, yer killin’ me here” he murmured, his voice trembling every time he moaned. You could feel him twitching every time you got him inside of you fully.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as your hand slid up to cup his jaw, tilting his face so he couldn’t avoid your gaze. “Killing you?” you teased, leaning closer until your lips hovered just above his. “I’m still listening to you” Hazard swallowed hard, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as though they were the only thing grounding him. “Aye, but I-I cannae focus when ye’re ridin’ me like this—Fuck!” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“but you look so pretty like this, all flustered and needy.” you replied, your lips ghosting over his. You could only smirk at him, but that smirk would quickly be rubbed off of you as soon as mistimed thrust slams into you with enough force to make you cry out, your hand instinctively clawing at his forearm in protest.

He seems oblivious—or had gotten more desperate—his pace now unrelenting. His head falls back, his arms now wrapped around your waist tight as you feel his chest heaving as he continues, driven by raw need, treating you as little more than an outlet for his desire. You tried to protest but you could only let out incomprehensible words came out of your mouth.

He growls in response, a harsh sound torn from his throat as his grip on your thighs tightens, the pressure teetering on the edge of pain. He bites your shoulder, Hard.

It stings obviously, the ache sinking into your skin, but your thoughts betray you, screaming for him for more—harder, harder, harder.

Your hand smacks against his shoulder, nails dragging down his skin in a futile attempt to regain some control.

Hazard reacts instantly, sitting up with you still in his grasp, his strength unyielding. The sudden shift sends your vision swimming, colors and shapes blurring together as he positions you squarely on his lap.

You barely have a moment to process before he’s lifting and lowering you, his hands guiding your movements with relentless determination. His face presses into the crook of your neck, his ragged breaths hot against your shoulder as he chases his own release, using you without restraint.

“Love, I cannae—” His voice cuts off with a low groan, his hold tightening as his rhythm becomes erratic.

The sensations come in a rush—your body feels swollen and overstimulated, electricity crackling under your skin. Then, in an instant, your body jolts as a wet heat fills you, his release leaving everything slick and sticky as he buries himself deep.

Both of you are left trembling, his forehead resting against your shoulder as his breathing slowly evens out. “Fuck, Hen…” he murmurs hoarsely, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close as the moment lingers.

Hazard’s breathing gradually slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you as though trying to keep you anchored to him. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, the warmth and tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just passed.

“Yer alright?” he asks softly, his voice low and rough, the concern threading through it despite his own exhaustion.

You nod against his chest, your body still humming with the aftermath, but a comforting heaviness settling in as you rest against him. “Yeah” you murmur, your hands trailing absentmindedly along the planes of his chest, finding solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Hazard shifts slightly, his movements slow and careful, mindful of your comfort. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead before resting his chin on top of your head. “I’ve got ye” he whispers, as if reassuring both of you, and you can feel the protective, possessive energy settle around you like a blanket.

The silence lingers for a moment, then his lips curl into a teasing smile as he brushes a hand over your back, his voice just above a whisper. “Shut ye up earlier, did I?”

You swat at his chest, half-amused, half-flustered. “Shut up” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder to hide the embarrassment creeping across your face.

He laughs again, his voice soft but teasing as he nuzzles into your hair. “I’ll make sure I remember that, Hen. Next time, I’ll keep ye screamin’ for hours, aye? I’ll not let ye get quiet so easily.”

[novahreign]

This made me nervous posting this. I’m not the best writer but I do try and I don’t have any fancy pictures but I hope that you enjoy it, just the same.🫣

“Kendra, Wait!” Tyler rushed behind her friend who sped past patrons in a restaurant to rush to the bathroom. The bride to-be, got lost between waiters and guests who stood around mingling. Tyler sidestepped quickly to avoid knocking into a waiter coming with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres that she completely missed the guy coming on her left, bumping into him, spilling red wine on herself and his white button up shirt.

“Oh my goodness. I am so sorry, I was trying to avoid hitting them-

“Hey.”

“And I wasn’t looking where I was going. I didn’t even see you.”

“It’s o-“

“Now your shirt is ruined!”

“Hey. Hey.” Rough, large hands took hold of shakey hands-steadying them. “It’s okay. It’s just a shirt, it’s all good. He gently moved her toward him” come this way.”

“I got it ma’am.” One of the waiters said. She moved aside so he can clean her mess. “I’m sorry about that.”

“You’re fine ma’am. It happens quite often.” He chuckled. She gave an embarrassed smile and turned her attention to the man whose shirt she messed up. Her head jerked back, wow. Her eyes scanned over his features. He was handsome.

“Umm…Can I buy you a drink, you know, to make up for this?” She motioned to his shirt

Terry was about to answer but her friend came up to her, getting her attention.

“Ty, It’s not looking good in there, She needs you!”

“Okay, uh, don’t go anywhere, I still owe you that drink!”

She followed behind Marcy and found Kendra slumped over the bathroom toilet.

“I think we may have pregamed too hard.” Shonda, the matron of honor said. Tyler had to agree.

“Guys, why’d you let me drink like this Ughh, I’m never drinking againnn” Kendra’s words slurred” Kendra let out some more, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. They were supposed to be celebrating Kendra’s last two nights as a “not so single, single” and now Tyler was trying not to inhale the smell of alcohol mixed with Cajun seafood. The bathroom smelled vile.

“Marcus is going to be mad at me.” Kendra whine, throw up sliding down her chin.

“No, he’s not. “ Tyler wiped her face with a wet paper towel before throwing it on the toilet”Because, tomorrow you will detox and it’ll all be fine.” She used her foot to flush,” Come on, y’all, I think we should call it a night.”

As the girls walked out the restaurant. Tyler spotted the guy, she wasted a drink on at the bar. “Hey,go ahead, I’ll be right there.” She walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around with a confused look on his face.

“Hi, I’m Tyler.” She stretched her hand out

He looked her up and down before taking her hand in his. “Terry.”

“Nice to meet you, Terry. Hey, look. I wanted to apologize about this. I’m sorry.” She motioned to his shirt. “What are you drinking? I can buy you another drink, you know to make up for spilling your wine.”

He tip the almost empty glass toward her “Whiskey.”

Tyler turned her nose up. “Ew, but okay.”

“You judging my drink choice?

She titled her head, “ I am, whiskey is plain nasty.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

“For people with rotten taste buds,”

He laughed out loud. “Rotten taste buds, really?”

“Excuse me.” She got the bartender’s attention “Hi……” she began rattling off his drink order. Terry took that time to take her in while sipping on his drink some more. She was beautiful, the orange dress complimented her dark skin. The dress clinging to her curves wasn’t bad sight either.

“I hope that you’re impressed by what you see, you’re staring pretty hard.” Terry met her eyes, noticing the teasing glint. Terry lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, I am.”

She bit back a smile. “Well I’m glad. Here’s your drink. Again, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy.” She patted his back before walking towards the double doors leading to the busy New Orleans Street. Terry tossed his drink back, throw a tip on the counter before coming up behind her.

“Hey, Tyler. Wait up.” He grabbed her wrist.

She jumped at feeling a hand on her, he apologize for scaring her. “What, two drinks not enough?” She smiled sheepishly

“Ha. Funny.” She laughed then looked at him expectantly. He sighed “You in New Orleans long?” She searched his face, deciding on whether or not she should share that information.

Oh, what the hell! It isn’t like she was going to see him again.

“I’ll be in town for a little while. I’m here for my friend’s wedding, why?”

“You think she’d mind, if you broke away from the group.”

“Why would I do that?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Uh…” Tyler picked up on his nervousness and could tell that he wasn’t used to putting himself out there, she decided to help him out.

“Look, give me your phone.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handed it to her.

She put her clutch under her arm and typed something before holding the phone up to her face to take a selfie. She showed him the picture and he chuckled. “Text me when you wake up and we can meet back her for breakfast. Sound good?.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She smiled “Okay, well, then. I’ll see you tomorrow” she winked at him “Goodnight Terry.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

He watched her walk into the crowd before looking down her contact photo. He tapped his phone against his palm. Yeah, he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 4.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

author's note: Happy New Year, everyone! I hope 2025 brings you everything you wish for and more! I had a blast writing this chapter, and I’m so excited for you all to dive into it. But, as always, my exams are calling my name, so I’ll be back when I can. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! ✨

Pending…Pending…

Date: August 17th,2174.

Location: Sully Marui,High Camp,Mons Veritatis,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 1:28AM.

The stars always had a way of making me feel small. Not in a bad way, though—more like I was part of something much bigger, something infinite. My father once told me which one of those stars was Earth. He’d pointed it out during one of our rare quiet moments together, his voice low and steady, full of memories he didn’t share often.

“That’s Earth,” he’d said, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Where I came from. Where humans come from.”

I remember staring at the tiny dot of light, so far away, and thinking how strange it was that my blood carried a piece of that place. That tiny, distant star was supposed to be part of me, part of my story.

But I never felt it.

I never wanted to feel it.

The idea that I was part human always left a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn’t shame exactly, more like... rejection. Like if I didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t be true. I could just be Na’vi. Fully Na’vi. The son of Toruk Makto, the son of the People. Not this... mix, this in-between thing that didn’t quite fit anywhere.

I think that’s why her words hit me the way they did.

“I don’t belong here,” she’d said last night, her voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the darkness around us.

I understood that. Too well.

I’d felt it the moment we arrived in Awa’atlu, surrounded by the sea clan with their skeptical eyes and quiet whispers. I’d been the golden boy back in the forest, the future Olo’eyktan, the one who had it all figured out. But in the reef, I was a stranger. A fish out of water. Literally.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t enough. Not strong enough, not skilled enough, not... enough.

I’d see it in their eyes sometimes, the Metkayina. That subtle shift when they looked at me. The respect was still there,yet the feeling lingered. Like I didn’t quite belong, no matter how hard I tried.

And now, here I was again, caught between worlds.

She reminded me of myself back then. That restless energy, that sharp defensiveness. She was trying so hard to figure out where she fit, just like I had. But she didn’t see what I saw in her: a spark, something unyielding, like she’d find her place no matter what it took.

That scared me, I think. The way I found myself wanting to be part of her story, wanting to help her figure it out. She wasn’t like anyone else I’d met.

She was... different.

And that terrified me.

Because I didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know how to handle the way my thoughts kept circling back to her, the way I noticed every little detail about her. The curve of her lips when she was annoyed. How she got so mad at me when I saved her,and I couldn’t help but feel amused,thanks to her fiery nature.

It was distracting, and I didn’t like being distracted.

I sighed, running a hand through my braids as I stared up at the stars again. The night was quiet, the village still. Somewhere in the distance, the soft hum of the forest blended with the faint whispers of the breeze.

I told myself to stop thinking about her. We’ve known each other for what,a few weeks?That is,if you count the fact that I didn’t see her for some time after the first ambush when Eywa sent the atokirina her way.

 I need to focus. To focus on the tasks ahead, on my duty to my people, to my father. But it was harder than I wanted to admit.

Because she wasn’t just in my head anymore.

She was under my skin.

The morning came not with the rising sun but with the familiar pull of duty, a rhythm as natural to me as breathing. Sleep had been fleeting, fractured by restless dreams and thoughts I didn’t care to name. It wasn’t unusual—restlessness had been my companion since the day we left the Omatikaya forests for Awa’atlu. But today, it felt different, heavier somehow.

As the first hints of light crept over the trees, I stepped out of my tent, the cool morning air brushing against my skin. Tendrils of bioluminescence still lingered, fading with the approach of dawn.

I made my way toward the ikran rookery, my steps purposeful yet unhurried. Na’la was already awake, perched on a high branch, preening her bright green and blue feathers. She chirped as I approached, a sharp, almost impatient sound that made me smile.

“You’re eager today,” I said in Na’vi, running my hand along her neck. Her scales were warm beneath my palm, and she tilted her head toward me, demanding more attention.

“Na’la, we have work to do,” I murmured, though my tone was more affectionate than scolding. I untangled the leather reins and checked the straps carefully.

A familiar voice broke the quiet. “You talk to her like she’s your child.”

I turned to see Lo’ak leaning against a nearby tree, a teasing grin plastered across his face. He had the kind of ease about him that I envied sometimes, like the weight of the world hadn’t yet found a way to settle on his shoulders.

“And you talk like you’re not late,” I shot back, raising a brow.

Lo’ak laughed, stepping closer. “Father’s been asking about the perimeter check. You’re supposed to report in after.”

“I know,” I replied, securing the final strap on Na’la’s harness. “I’m heading out now.”

Lo’ak’s gaze lingered on me, his grin fading slightly. “You didn’t sleep again, did you?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, brushing off his concern.

“You’re always ‘fine,’” Lo’ak muttered, crossing his arms. “One day, you’re going to have to admit you’re not perfect, bro.”

“I’ll let you know when that day comes,” I replied, swinging onto Na’la’s back. “Now, are you coming, or are you just here to criticize me?”

Lo’ak chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve got my own tasks, thanks. I have to go over some strategies with Za'ruk for the next ambush. But try not to overthink everything, alright? You’re worse than Kiri sometimes.”

I ignored his jab, giving Na’la the signal to take off. The rush of wind and the sudden burst of speed cleared my mind, at least for a moment. The forest spread out beneath us, an endless expanse of green and blue, dotted with the faint glow of the morning’s first light.

As we approached the eastern perimeter, I scanned the ground below, noting the subtle signs of movement among the foliage. A small group of hunters was already out, their bows slung across their backs as they moved with practiced precision.

I landed Na’la near the group, dismounting with a fluid motion. The lead hunter, a tall Na’vi named Ayzek, approached with a nod of greeting.

“Neteyam. Oel ngati kameie,ma tsmukan.” he said, his voice steady,as he greets me in the Na’vi way. “Everything’s quiet this morning. No sign of activity from the Sky People.”

“I see you,brother.Good,” I replied, glancing toward the horizon. “But stay alert. They’ve been quiet for too long.”

Ayzek nodded again, his expression serious. “We’ll keep watch.”

I spent the next hour moving along the perimeter, checking for any signs of disturbance. The forest was eerily peaceful, the kind of quiet that always felt like the calm before a storm. Yet the storm never came.

By the time I finished, the sun was fully above the trees, casting long shadows across the ground. I guided Na’la back towards the village, my mind already shifting to the next task on my list.Grandmother asked me if I could gather some herbs for her,so I got to work.

I found the plants I needed, bending low to carefully pluck the delicate leaves. The task was simple enough, but my thoughts kept returning to the conversation we’d had last night. She had been so guarded, so closed off. But underneath that was something more—something I couldn’t quite put into words. It reminded me of the way the forest was sometimes: unpredictable, wild, full of life, but also dangerous.

As I landed back at base,I made my way quickly to my grandmother’s tent, the familiar scent of herbs and smoke greeted me. The Tsahìk was seated cross-legged near a low fire, her hands deftly mixing a paste in a stone bowl.

“Grandmother,I see you." I said, bowing my head respectfully.

“Neteyam,” she replied without looking up. “You are late.”

“My apologies,” I said, kneeling beside her. “The perimeter was secure.”

She finally looked at me, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet your mind is elsewhere.”

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. My grandmother had a way of seeing through me, of pulling truths I wasn’t ready to confront.

“There is much to think about,” I said carefully.

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer,a small smile making its way on her face before she returned to her work. “Your father has asked for you. Go to him when you are done here.”

I nodded, rising to my feet. Her words stayed with me as I made my way toward his marui. There was always something to think about, always something to do. But lately, my thoughts kept returning to her—to the human girl who didn’t belong here, yet somehow felt like she might.

For now, though, there was work to be done. And work was the one thing I could always count on to keep my mind in check.

The low hum of the base was the only sound besides the soft padding of my footsteps as I made my way to my father’s marui. My mind was still spinning from the conversation I’d had earlier, the one that had gotten under my skin more than I wanted to admit. I wasn’t sure what it was about her that kept pulling my attention, but the more I saw of her, the harder it was to ignore the strange pull.

I rounded a corner, barely glancing up before—

Bam!

I felt the impact hard in my chest as she collided with me, sending a jolt through both of us. My body instinctively moved to catch her, but she was already stepping back, muttering under her breath.

“Dammit,” she hissed, her hand flying to her left shoulder, massaging the spot she’d rammed into me. “Fucking hell, watch where—”

Her voice faltered mid-curse as her eyes flicked up to meet mine. Wide and startled, her gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, we both froze. The air between us thickened, silent except for the faint hum of the base and the echo of her earlier words.

“Neteyam?” she said finally, her voice softer now, tinged with surprise.

I blinked, the initial shock fading as I took her in. Her cheeks were flushed—whether from embarrassment or irritation, I couldn’t tell—and her lips were slightly parted as if she wasn’t sure what to say next. Fucking hell, she’s so pretty.

“Syulang,” I said, letting out a breathless laugh and easing into a grin. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

She straightened up and let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she muttered, then huffed in frustration. “I swear, I need to be more careful. My brain’s on autopilot lately.”

I chuckled, the sound breaking some of the tension. “No harm done. You sure you’re okay? That was a pretty solid hit.” I asked, studying her face. The frustration from earlier had softened, but I couldn’t help noticing how much more relaxed she looked.

She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “I’ve had worse,” she said, rubbing her shoulder one more time before she gestured vaguely down the hall, a little too animated, her voice picking up speed. “I was actually heading to Unit 2—kind of a weird place, but cozy enough. I’ve already taken some blood samples, nothing too fancy, you know? Just figuring out some things with the new enhanced Avatar technology and—” She paused, blinking as if she hadn’t realized how much she was talking.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. She was talking so fast, her words tumbling over each other like she was on a mission to distract herself, or maybe... distract me. She was so different from the defensive girl I had bumped into last night in the common room. Either way, I could feel my heart rate picking up in the strangest way.

“Blood samples?” I repeated, trying to focus on the words, though I couldn’t stop staring at how her lips moved when she spoke. “What... kind of samples?” Did I really just ask what kind of samples? Am I a fucking idiot?

"Oh, you know,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “baseline stuff. Standard variables. I can’t really get into the fun experiments until I have a solid foundation to work with.” She grinned like she was sharing some inside secret, and for a moment, I found myself completely captivated by the spark in her eyes.

She was so different from anyone I’d met. So...alive, in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

“Right,” I said, quieter than I intended, distracted by the way her hair caught the faint light. “You’re settling in, I see?”

Her laugh was soft, disarming. “What else am I supposed to do around here? Besides, I’ve got to keep busy or else I’ll start thinking too much about... everything else.”

The way she said everything else stirred something in my chest. It was in her tone, the way her words seemed heavier than they should have been. I didn’t want to push, but I couldn’t stop myself. “What do you mean, everything else?”

She hesitated, a fleeting expression of vulnerability crossing her face. Like she hadn’t meant to let that slip. Then, with a small shrug and a half-smile, she answered, “It’s nothing, really. Just... adjusting. I know I’m not exactly welcome here, but I don’t have a lot of options right now,do I?”

Her voice softened toward the end, her posture shifting slightly, as though the weight of her words had finally settled on her shoulders. My eyes caught the way her fingers tugged at her cuticles—a nervous habit I’d seen around before. It was subtle but telling, the kind of gesture that hinted at something deeper bubbling under the surface.

She’s anxious... huh.

“I get it,” I said gently, my voice dropping in volume as though I didn’t want to break the fragile moment between us. “It’s... a lot to take in. But you’ll find your place. In time. You just have to trust the process.”

Her eyes flickered toward me, and for a second, something unreadable passed through them—an emotion too layered to pin down.The look lingered just long enough to make my chest tighten before she glanced away, letting her gaze drift to the floor.

That’s when I saw it again—the same vulnerable look she’d had last night. The mask she wore, the one that made her seem sharp and untouchable, slipped just a little. Beneath it was something raw, something almost fragile.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she let out a soft sigh. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. “You’re right,” she said, her voice quieter now, thoughtful but distant, as if she was speaking more to herself than to me.

I didn’t press her, even though the pause felt heavy with unspoken things. I could sense the struggle she was having, the way she weighed every word like it might tip some precarious balance. Instead, I let the silence stretch between us, offering her the space to decide what she wanted to say—or not say.

But even as her eyes stayed fixed on the floor below, her fingers had stopped pulling at her cuticles. A small thing, but I noticed.

And just like that, the moment seemed to waver, as fragile as a thread. She stepped back, her attention shifting toward the path. “Anyway... I should get back to the lab. I’ve still got a ton of data to go through.”

I watched her pull away, feeling a sudden, inexplicable tightness in my chest. There was no reason for me to feel like this, no reason for the way my feet wanted to follow hers even as she moved further away. I don’t even know her that well. 

“Yeah, okay,” I muttered. “I’ll see you later?”

She glanced back at me, her lips curling into a small smile. “Actually,” she said, a mischievous,yet shy glint in her eyes, “how about we meet in the common room tonight,around 11? You know, talk more. Like last night. I could use a distraction.”

Her invitation—casual, but somehow intimate—had my heart beating faster than it should have. For a split second, I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or panicked. There was something about her that pulled at me in a way that I couldn’t control. But I nodded anyway.

“Sure. Tonight. I’ll uh…I’ll see you there.” I said, my voice quieter and more shy than usual. 

Her smile lingered for a moment, her gaze soft and warm, before she turned and walked off down the hall. I couldn’t stop watching her as she disappeared into the distance.

The moment she was out of sight, I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the racing thoughts in my mind. What is wrong with me?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Between the two of us, something was changing—something I wasn’t prepared for. And I didn’t know whether to embrace it or run. But all I knew for sure was that I’d be in that common room tonight, just like she wanted.

Whatever happens then, I’ll deal with it.

I stood there for a few moments after she walked away, my mind swirling with the unexpected tension that had sparked between us. It wasn’t like me to get so... flustered. I wasn’t some teenager caught off guard by a fleeting glance or a playful smile. But the way she spoke, how she was so full of energy now that she was in her own element, and how the words seemed to flow out of her like she couldn’t stop herself—it made me feel... unsteady.

Shaking my head to clear the thoughts clouding my mind, I turned on my heel and continued my path toward my father's marui. There was no time to be distracted right now. I had duties to attend to, responsibilities I couldn’t afford to ignore.

I hadn’t been on my way for more than a few minutes before the weight of the moment caught up with me again. She had asked to meet later—tonight—and I hadn’t expected it. I had thought maybe it was a fluke, a casual comment. But the look in her eyes, the sincerity of her words, made it clear she meant it. And despite everything, part of me wanted to meet her. Wanted to see what would happen when we spoke more, when we spent more time together.

But now wasn’t the time for that. I had bigger things to worry about.

I reached my father’s marui, the familiar earthy scent of the woven structure greeting me as I stepped inside. The dim light of late morning filtered through the arched openings, casting intricate patterns over the floor. My thoughts were still scattered, each one vying for attention like a restless storm.

Dad was already there, sitting cross-legged at the center of the room, his posture as straight as ever, exuding a quiet authority. A map of the surrounding territories was spread out before him, his fingers tracing lines and markings that detailed our fragile hold on this land.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with mild reprimand. He didn’t look up; he didn’t need to. His tone carried enough weight.

“Sorry, Dad,” I muttered, lowering myself to sit across from him. The woven mat beneath me felt rough, grounding. “Got... distracted.”

At that, his eyes flicked up, sharp and discerning. Concern flickered briefly in his gaze, though it was hidden beneath his stoic exterior. “Distracted?” His brow furrowed. “You’re still thinking about those reports from yesterday?”

I almost laughed at that—those reports were the last thing on my mind—but I stopped myself, shaking my head. “No, not exactly.” My tone was too neutral, betraying nothing of the whirlwind in my head. The lab, the ambushes, the strange pull I felt toward her—all of it churned within me, just out of reach.

Dad’s gaze lingered for a moment, his keen eyes assessing me. “You’re sure? Because…whatever’s bothering you, we need to stay focused. We’ve got more problems than just the RDA and their new push for territory.”

“I know,” I said, nodding quickly, trying to appear more resolute than I felt. “I’m focused, Dad. It’s just...there’s a lot going on right now. Everything’s changing so fast, and I don’t think I’ve caught up yet.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Then, to my surprise, his expression softened. He leaned back slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “You know,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically reflective, “I’ve been where you are. When I came here as a human. When we moved to Awa’atlu, to live with the Metkayina. I felt like I was walking into another world,every single time. Everything I knew was stripped away. For the first time, I didn’t know where I fit.”

I blinked, taken aback. My father—so steady, so unwavering—had felt that way? I’d never heard him speak like this before.

“You?” I asked, skepticism coloring my voice despite myself.

He smirked faintly, but his eyes remained serious. “Yes, me. I was used to being in control, to knowing my role and what was expected of me,especially here with the people. Our people. But there, among the Metkayina... I was an outsider. Not to mention,back when I came here to Pandora,almost everyone looked  down on me because of my…condition. I had to learn everything from scratch, adapt to a way of life that was completely foreign to me.”

“And you found your place eventually,” I said quietly, as though seeking confirmation.

“I did,” he said with a slow nod. “But it wasn’t easy. And it wasn’t always clear. Sometimes, finding your place isn’t about fitting in. It’s about carving out your own path, even if it’s not what you expected.”

His words settled heavily in the air between us. They were meant to reassure me, I knew, but they only seemed to magnify the doubts I hadn’t yet voiced.

“What if I’m not sure where I belong anymore?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. I could feel the regret seeping into my bones almost instantly.

My father’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “You’re my son, Neteyam. You’ve always been destined to lead. But leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about making the hard choices when no one else will. And right now, you’re needed. By your family, by the clan. Don’t forget that.”

I nodded, his words hitting their mark. The familiar weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders again, grounding me even as the unease within me continued to churn.

“Got it,” I said, standing up, summoning a conviction I didn’t truly feel. My legs felt heavy, as if the weight of every expectation was dragging me down. I am so, so tired. The kind of exhaustion that seeps into your bones, that lingers even after the day is done. But I couldn’t let it show, not now. Not in front of him.

I glanced at my father’s face—strong, unwavering, the image of everything I was supposed to be—and felt the pressure tighten around me like a vise. I can’t let him down. I can’t let anyone down.

“I’ll handle it, Dad,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. I squared my shoulders, as if straightening my spine could bear the weight a little better. “I’ll take care of everything.”

But even as I spoke the words, they felt hollow, as though I was pouring from a well that had long since run dry. The weight of responsibility, of duty, of always being the one everyone relied on—it was crushing. Yet I swallowed the heaviness, shoving it down where no one could see, because that’s what was expected of me. That’s what I had to be.

“I know you will,” he replied firmly. “Now, let’s go over those raid reports from the Aranahe. Priya said Etuwa mentioned something important about their movements.”

We spent the next hour combing through the maps and plans, dissecting strategies and weighing risks. By the time we finished, my head was spinning with logistical details, but the unease hadn’t left me. It clung to me, stubborn and unrelenting.

As I stepped out of the marui, the mid-morning sun had risen higher, casting dappled light through the canopy above. The air felt thick with possibility and tension, the kind that promised change.

And tonight, I would talk to her. Maybe then I’d start to make sense of the storm inside me. Maybe then I’d begin to understand what it was about her that had shifted my entire world off its axis.

The soft glow of the lamps in the common room greeted me as I pushed open the door, expecting to see her sitting at one of the tables, waiting for me like we had planned. But the room was empty, save for a few scattered papers and a faint hum in the air. The silence felt heavier than it should have, and I couldn't help but feel a small knot form in my stomach. Had she changed her mind? Was I being too... eager?

I stood there for a moment, my gaze flicking from one corner of the room to the other, my thoughts racing. It wasn’t like her to ditch without saying something. She didn't seem like that kind of person. My hand lingered on the doorframe as I considered the possibility that I’d misread her intentions. Maybe she just didn’t want to talk tonight.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Did she forget, or did I get the time wrong?"

I lingered for a minute, debating if I should just call it a night, but something told me to check on her. Her room wasn’t far, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to swing by.

When I reached her door, I knocked softly. "You in there?"

There was a pause, then her voice came through, muffled but annoyed. "Yeah, come in."

I stepped inside and found her sitting on her bed, one hand digging into her left shoulder with an almost pained expression. Her hair was loose, framing her face, and she looked… tired. Not just physically, but like she was carrying something heavy.

“What’s going on? You okay?” I asked, stepping closer, my voice laced with concern.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she gave me a weak smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you in the common room. My shoulder’s acting up, and I couldn’t drag myself out of bed.”

My brows knit together in a deep frown, the memory of her earlier bumping into me flashing in my mind. “Did you… did you hurt yourself when you bumped into me today?”

“What?” she asked, her expression confused before shaking her head quickly. “No, no, I—”

Her words trailed off, and for a moment, she hesitated. The confident, sharp-tongued girl I knew seemed to falter, her smile fading into something more vulnerable. Then, with a frustrated groan, she dropped the façade altogether.

“...Gah. A long time ago, I had an accident at the gym. Lifted before I warmed up and messed up my shoulder pretty bad,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “I got it fixed back on Earth, but sometimes it still flares up. I think it’s the pressure here, the mountains, the Flux Vortex. Everything feels heavier, and sometimes it just… hurts like hell.”

Her honesty hit me like a wave, and I found myself at a loss for words. For all her fire and wit, there was a fragility to her I hadn’t expected.

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” I asked, confusion—and maybe a hint of frustration—coloring my voice.

She sighed again, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the blanket covering her legs. “I don’t like people fussing over me, okay? It’s… embarrassing. Makes me feel weird and emotional. And when the pain gets bad, I turn into a total asshole. Groggy, snappy, all that fun stuff. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to be around me then."

I tilted my head, smirking. "Paskalin, I’ve seen you pissed off at me for saving your life. I think I can handle snappy.’" 

The term of endearment fit her so well, even better than syulang. She wasn’t delicate like a flower, something to be admired from a distance or sheltered from the wind. No, she was something else entirely. She had a resilience, a sharpness under her sweetness that reminded me of the wild berries that grew deep in the forest. Small, vibrant, and full of flavor, but with a tang that lingered.

Paskalin.

The word rolled through my lips like a whisper, soft and unassuming, yet it carried so much weight. Sweet berry. It was her—unexpected, unapologetic, and impossible to forget. Every interaction with her left a taste, something unique that stayed with me long after she was gone. She wasn’t just something pretty to look at; she had depth, layers, and a wildness that drew you in.

Calling her syulang like I did when I bumped into her wouldn’t have done her justice in this moment. She wasn’t fragile or fleeting. She was vibrant, alive in a way that commanded attention without trying. Paskalin. That was her.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized the name wasn’t just fitting—it felt like it had been waiting for her all along.

That made her laugh for real. For a moment,I could feel she didn't want to admit that I had saved her life. "...Okay, fair point. But still, it’s annoying as hell. Plus,I told you,I don’t like people fussing over me. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to get attention.”

“Too bad,” I said firmly, moving closer and sitting on the edge of her bed without a second thought. Gosh,these beds are small. “You’re stuck with me now.”

She blinked at me, momentarily surprised, before letting out a soft, genuine laugh. It wasn’t the sharp, sarcastic sound I was used to—it was warm, unguarded. It made something tighten in my chest.

“Great,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Just what I needed—Prince Charming to the rescue.”

I smirked, leaning back slightly but keeping my gaze steady on her. “I’m serious, though. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. You don’t have to.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see the faintest hint of gratitude in her expression. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve made your point.”

We spent the hour or so talking about the dumbest things—stories about the douchebags at her college back on Earth, our childhood memories, and random jokes that had us both laughing so hard my ribs hurt. To my surprise,it was so…natural. At some point, we decided we were starving, so we raided the common room for leftover snacks,and munched on them on the floor. It felt more comfortable sitting on the floor,given our…size difference.

I watched as she shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her shoulder again. I remembered how my grandmother used to massage my chest after I got shot, easing the tension on my back and helping the muscles heal. Before I could second-guess it, I asked her.

"Uh… do you want me to try something?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck.

She raised an eyebrow. "Try what?"

"My grandmother taught me a massage technique. It’s supposed to help with muscle pain. Worked for me when I, uh… got hurt." I didn’t elaborate. I couldn't open that part of myself to her. Not yet,at least. 

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical,the sass dripping from her tone. “What, you suddenly moonlight as a masseur now?”

“Shut up and turn around,” I said, rolling my eyes.

She snorted but complied, sitting cross-legged on the floor and turning her back to me. I positioned myself behind her,trying to remember the technique. As soon as I started kneading the tight muscles,she let out a long,low groan of relief.

My ears twitched,and I fought to keep my focus. It’s just a massage. Relax. But fuck,the way she was melting under my touch wasn’t helping.

“Holy shit,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “That feels… really good.”

“You’re tense as hell,” I said,trying to lighten up the mood. “Do you ever not carry the world on your shoulders?”

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned,though her voice was softer. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

We stayed like that for a while,her groaning softly and me trying not to die of embarrassment. But somewhere in the rhythm of it,I realized something. We were becoming…friends. Real friends.

“Where were you when I needed this back on Earth?” she asks,a tinge of amusement present in her voice.

“Probably trying not to fall out of trees,” I said, grinning.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You’re terrible.”

I chuckled, though my face felt a little warmer as her laughter turned into soft groans of relief yet again,which weren't exactly helping me stay focused as my mind started drifting to other places.

I froze for half a second, my face heating up before I forced myself to focus. "Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. I charge for this kind of service."

She laughed, the sound muffled by another groan. "How much? I’ll pay whatever you want if you just keep doing that."

I couldn’t help but laugh as well, shaking my head. "You’re ridiculous."

"So are you," she shot back, her voice softer now. "Seriously, though. Thanks. I don’t... I don’t usually let people help me with this kind of stuff."

"Why not?"

She hesitated, then sighed. "I guess I don’t like feeling... vulnerable. Weak."

"That’s not weak,though." I said, my hands still working on her shoulder. "Just like your people have that saying. It’s human. Or,you know,whatever."

"Yeah. Or whatever." she said,her tone sarcastic,yet I could hear the faint smile in her voice.

We stayed like that for a while, the room quiet except for her soft breathing and the occasional sarcastic remark from her when I hit a particularly sore spot. By the time I finished, her shoulder was noticeably less tense, and she looked… lighter, somehow.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, meaning it more than I realized. 

Her eyes lowered suddenly, a flicker of vulnerability creeping into her expression. “I guess... sometimes it’s hard for people to understand. They either see me as the tough, independent person,because that’s what I want them to see. Sometimes,I show them my softer part and I’m usually taken advantage of when I act like that. But… I’m not invincible,you know?”

I felt a knot tighten in my chest at her words. She was tough. She was smart. She was so much more than she seemed to give herself credit for. “You don’t have to apologize for being real and vulnerable,” I said, my voice low and reassuring. “You’re allowed to feel the way you do. You’re not alone here.”

She looked up at me, her eyes softening a little as she took in my words. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve been hiding. I guess it just gets... exhausting sometimes. Pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I couldn’t help but feel a wave of empathy wash over me. I knew that feeling. The pressure of always having to be strong, to always hold it together, even when everything inside you was falling apart. I had been in her shoes, more times than I cared to admit.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” I said, meeting her gaze with a kind of sincerity I wasn’t sure I’d ever expressed before. “I know we haven’t known each other for long but…I get it. You’re not the only one trying to find their place. Sometimes, it’s easier to hide behind walls. But you don’t have to do that with me. Not anymore.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, her expression unreadable, and then something shifted in her eyes. Maybe she saw the truth in my words, or maybe she just needed to hear them. Either way, the tension in the room seemed to ease, just a little.

“I’m not great at this whole... opening up thing,” she said, letting out a weak,quiet laugh. “But I think... maybe it’s worth trying. Right?”

I smiled at her, feeling something warm blossom in my chest. “It’s worth trying,” I agreed. “And maybe, we can help each other with that. Maybe we can even be friends.”

She raised an eyebrow at me, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Friends?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice,but I could see the excitement behind her wide eyes. “You sure you’re up for it, Neteyam?”

I said, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Of course I’m sure. Better yet,I’ll even make sure you don’t murder anyone with your mood swings.”

Her lips twitched into a smile, and she rolled her eyes, but I could see the appreciation in the small way her shoulders relaxed. “You’re a real charmer, you know.” she muttered, though there was no heat in her words.

“Hey, I’m just speaking the truth,” I replied with a grin. “The world needs more of me, I’m just saying.”

She let out a laugh, the sound a little strained but genuine. “Maybe one Neteyam is enough. I don’t know if the world could handle two.”

“I think you’re just jealous,” I teased, nudging her good shoulder lightly with my elbow.

She snorted, shaking her head. “Please. I’d rather be in pain than deal with your ego any more than I have to.”

“Fair enough,” I said, giving her a mock pout. “I’m trying to be helpful here, and you’re rejecting my kindness.”

She smirked. “I’m rejecting your sarcasm. But thanks... for listening. And for not running off the second I started talking about how much of a pain in the ass I am.”

I didn’t know why, but that made me feel warmer than it should’ve. “You’re not a pain in the ass. You’re... pretty cool, actually.” I paused, then added, “Pain or not.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in, like, an hour.”

I chuckled. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

Slowly,we fell into a comfortable silence. The soft glow of the dim light casting shadows that danced gently across her features. The faint hum of the base filled the silence, but I barely noticed it. My attention was entirely on her.

She was leaning back on her palms, her head tilted slightly upward as she stared at the ceiling. Her hair, unbound and free, pooled around her shoulders and down her back like an ocean of soft waves. The light caught the natural sheen in it, creating an almost halo-like effect around her head. The strands seemed to ripple with her every subtle movement, and I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful she looked—like a moment frozen in time, raw and unfiltered.

Her face, partially illuminated, carried an ethereal softness under the subdued light. The curve of her cheekbones, the delicate arch of her brows, and the faint shadow of her lashes against her skin—all of it felt magnified in this quiet, intimate moment. Her lips, slightly parted, caught my attention for a beat too long. Full and natural, they had a way of drawing my gaze without her even trying.

The dim light softened the sharpness of her features, making her look almost dreamlike. Her doe-like eyes, though unfocused as they traced patterns across the ceiling, seemed deeper somehow, like they held an entire galaxy behind them.

Her shoulders were relaxed, but there was a tension in the way her hands pressed into the floor, grounding her. The fabric of her loose shirt shifted slightly as she breathed, the neckline dipping just enough to reveal the faint outline of her collarbones. It wasn’t intentional—nothing about her ever seemed forced—but the simplicity of it only made her more alluring.

I watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, the steady rhythm hypnotizing me. Her posture gave her an air of quiet confidence, as if she was completely at ease in this moment. Yet, there was a vulnerability there too, something that made her seem so real and tangible, like the delicate balance between strength and softness.

She shifted slightly, her fingers curling against the floor, and the movement was so subtle, so natural, it sent a strange thrill through me. I realized then just how intently I’d been watching her, how I couldn’t seem to look away. Every little detail—the way her hair framed her face, the soft curve of her lips, the calm yet restless energy she carried—was pulling me in, bit by bit.

This was dangerous—this pull she had over me, so effortless, so natural, yet so completely overwhelming. It wasn’t just her beauty, though that alone was enough to make my thoughts scatter. It was the way she existed in this moment, unguarded and unassuming, as if she didn’t even realize how much space she took up in my mind.

And yet, the longer I looked at her, the harder it became to remember why I shouldn’t. Why I shouldn’t let my mind wander to the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. Why I shouldn’t think about how her lips, slightly parted, seemed to invite thoughts I had no business entertaining. Why I shouldn’t dwell on the way she held herself—with a mix of strength and vulnerability that made me want to learn every story, every scar, every smile.

It wasn’t just attraction; it was something deeper, more insidious. A seed of something I couldn’t quite name yet but knew would grow if I let it. She was starting to take root in my thoughts, her laugh, her voice, her endless curiosity all lingering in the corners of my mind long after she was gone.

I found myself breathing as if the air between us had grown heavier. Something was shifting in me—something I hadn’t expected, something I wasn’t sure I wanted. This wasn’t part of the plan. She wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. And yet, she was becoming impossible to ignore.

The way she sat there, so perfectly unaware of the effect she was having on me, made it all the more dangerous. Because every second I spent watching her, every detail I memorized—the slight tilt of her head, the rhythm of her breathing, the way her fingers tapped absently against the floor—was another step toward something I couldn’t afford.

I wasn’t so sure about my loyalties anymore. That’s the thing with humans. They have a way of making you question everything. 

And still, I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t stop the way my chest tightened every time she moved. Couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through my mind, each one more foolish than the last.

She was becoming a gravity I couldn’t escape, a quiet pull drawing me closer with every breath. And as I stood there, caught in the silent orbit of her presence, I realized with a sinking clarity that I was falling. Slowly, maybe, but undeniably.

Her voice brought me back to reality, soft and melodic, like a breeze stirring the stillness of the night. I hadn’t even realized how lost I had become in my thoughts until she spoke, her words cutting through the haze and pulling me back into the moment.

I blinked, forcing myself to focus on her. She was still sitting there, leaning back on her palms, her eyes flickering to mine.

“You know,” she said, staring up at the ceiling, “I think this might be the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

“Glad I could be of service,” I said, tossing a piece of fruit into my mouth.

Our conversation was then cut short by Norm as he stumbled in, half-asleep, rubbing his eyes and muttering something about needing stronger coffee around here, while we were sprawled on the floor, mid-laugh. We froze as his gaze landed on us, his sleepy expression shifting into one of confusion.

“What are you two doing?” he mumbled, scratching his head.

Never one to back down from an opportunity to tease,she turned to him. “Star gazing,” she said, deadpan, despite the fact that we were indoors.

Norm squinted, clearly too tired to argue. “Right. Well, carry on. Just… keep it down.” He shuffled over to the kitchenette, grabbed a glass of water, and disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.

As soon as the door closed behind him, we burst out laughing again. I rolled onto my side, clutching my stomach. “Star gazing? Really?”

She grinned, unrepentant. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Shaking my head, I let the laughter fade and leaned back against the floor, staring up at the ceiling. The quiet hum of the outpost settled around us, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt completely relaxed. In a moment of confidence,I turned my head to look at her.

She turned her head to look at me as well,her cheek resting softly against the cool floor, and for a moment, I couldn't tear my gaze away. Her hair fanned out around her like a halo,tendrils spilling in all directions, catching the dim light in a way that made her seem almost otherworldly. In that split second, I was completely entranced, my heart doing a strange, sudden lurch in my chest. It was like everything around me went quiet, and all that mattered was the sight of her there, so effortlessly beautiful. I swear, my heart physically skipped a beat.

"You're staring," she said, her voice teasing, with a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

I blinked rapidly, forcing myself to pull my eyes away from her. "Was not," I mumbled, but my voice betrayed me, the words coming out a little too quick, too defensive.

"Totally were," she shot back, poking me in the side with one finger, sending a small, unexpected jolt through me.

I let out a quiet breath, glancing at her with surprise. Her playfulness was so unexpected, and it threw me off balance more than I cared to admit.

"As if," I muttered, a small laugh bubbling up despite myself.

She smiled then, a small, genuine smile that seemed to warm the room, making my chest tighten in ways I couldn’t name. There was something about the way her expression softened, something that tugged at me. That simple, unguarded smile made the space between us feel both impossibly close and unbearably far, all at once. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt exposed under her gaze, and I didn’t want to look away—didn’t want to lose the moment.

"Okay, enough deep shit," she said with a dramatic flourish, flopping her back onto the floor like she’d just completed an intense workout. "Tell me something dumb. Like… what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?"

I groaned, instantly feeling the weight of the question. "Oh, come on. That’s not fair."

"Fairness is overrated," she teased, smirking at me as if daring me to resist. "Come on, spill. I know you’ve got something good."

I sighed, running a hand through my braids, already regretting this conversation. "Fine. When I was like… ten, I tried to impress this girl by climbing a tree. Thought I was being all cool and smooth, y’know? But then I fell right out of it and landed in a pile of… well, let’s just say it wasn’t dirt."

She burst out laughing immediately, clutching her stomach like she couldn’t control herself. Her laugh was so contagious, I found myself cracking a smile, even though I was still cringing at the memory. "Oh my god! Please tell me she didn’t see the whole thing."

I grimaced, leaning back against the floor, trying to escape the embarrassment. "Unfortunately, yes. And she never, ever let me live it down."

She wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing uncontrollably. "Okay, your turn. Ask me something."

I thought for a moment, a mischievous grin slowly creeping onto my face. "Alright. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done to impress someone?"

She groaned and covered her face with both hands, clearly regretting her decision to play along. "Oh, you’re evil. Okay, fine." She sighed deeply, as if preparing to dive into the depths of embarrassment. "When I was fifteen, I had this huge crush on a guy, and he was obsessed with some TV series, so I… painted a triquetra on my wall in black paint to impress him. It’s like… a triangle symbol, I don’t know how to describe it."

I stared at her for a moment, speechless, before I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I burst out laughing, leaning forward in disbelief. "You’re kidding."

"Wish I was," she said, her voice muffled behind her hands, but I could still hear the faint edge of humiliation in it. "He didn’t even think it was that impressive, and my parents thought I was in a cult."

I doubled over in laughter, clutching my sides as the ridiculousness of her story hit me. It was almost too perfect. The image of her—who could be so effortlessly composed and sharp—doing something so… ridiculous to impress some guy was too much for me. I could barely breathe, still laughing so hard I thought I might pass out.

We kept trading stories like that for a while, our voices rising in fits of laughter, each ridiculous tale more outrageous than the last. By the time we realized how late it was, the sun had already begun to rise. Its soft glow filtered through the windows, casting long beams of pale light across the room, making everything feel a little softer, a little quieter.

"Shit," she said, looking around in sudden realization. "We pulled an all-nighter???"

"Looks like it," I muttered, stretching as a yawn escaped me. I was exhausted, but in that moment, it felt like the kind of tiredness you could sink into, not the kind that dragged you down. The kind that comes after a night spent with someone who makes everything feel a little lighter.

She groaned, glancing at the clock and then back at me, her expression still a mix of disbelief and amusement. "We seriously need to stop doing this. I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that we stayed up all night or the fact that I actually enjoy it."

I chuckled softly, rubbing my eyes. "We’ll deal with that later. But right now, I’m pretty sure we both need coffee."

She shot me a grin, her eyes sparkling even in the early morning light. "Coffee sounds like a good idea. Let’s go make some bad decisions."

I helped her up, my hand steady as I offered her a small, teasing smile. But as soon as she stood, her eyes widened just slightly, and I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the look on her face. In that moment, the difference in our heights felt more pronounced than it ever had before.

Her gaze flickered up to me, a little self-conscious, and I could tell she was probably calculating how much taller I was than her. I couldn’t help but find it amusing—the way she looked up at me like I was some towering figure.

We both began to walk toward the kitchen, and her voice rang out, light and easy, bouncing off the walls as we moved through the quiet, stillness of the morning. “Thanks for tonight, Neteyam. For real. I didn’t think I needed this, but… I did.”

I turned my head to look at her,a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t have to thank me,” I said. “I had fun too.”

She laughed lightly. “Fun, huh? Even with my bitching about my shoulder and my terrible jokes?”

I smirked. “Your jokes are pretty bad. But the shoulder thing? I get it. Everyone’s got their stuff. Doesn’t make you weak.”

As we walked side by side toward the kitchen, her words hung in the air, a soft echo I couldn’t quite shake. I didn’t think I needed this, but... I did.

Something inside me shifted. The usual weight of responsibility and expectations that always seemed to press down on me felt a little less suffocating in that moment. Maybe it was the simplicity of her gratitude, the way she didn’t try to hide the vulnerability in her voice. Maybe it was because I hadn’t felt this light in a long time—not in a way that wasn’t tied to duty or obligation.

I glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at my lips, and despite the teasing, there was something different in the way she looked at me. It wasn’t just the playful glint in her eyes or the way she always managed to make me feel like I was part of something bigger than the chaos of my life. No, this was something deeper—something that cut through the layers of expectation that had built up around me for as long as I could remember. It was like she saw me, really saw me—not just the son of Toruk Makto, not just the Olo’Eyktan-in-training, not the perfect older brother everyone expected me to be. She didn’t see the role I played or the image I projected for the world. She saw the person beneath it all.

She saw me beyond the weight of duty, beyond the endless training, beyond the constant pressure to be something I didn’t always know how to be. She saw the guy who almost lost his life to a bullet, the one who had doubts and scars that no one else seemed to notice. She didn’t flinch at the messiness of who I was or what I’d been through. She felt it, without even having to ask.

And for a split second, I wondered if maybe I was finally starting to feel seen too—really seen in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to be in so long.

The connection we’d shared over the past few hours—the jokes, the quiet moments, the easy conversation—had slowly started to weave something between us. A thread that was pulling tighter with every passing minute. And it made me realize just how much I didn’t want it to unravel.

I turned my head, watching her laugh, that light sound filling the space between us. There was something magnetic about her presence, something I hadn’t expected to find. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

“You’re annoyingly good at this whole ‘being supportive’ thing,” she said, her words almost a whisper, but they hit me harder than I expected.

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that sort of compliment—being the strong, reliable older sibling had earned me a reputation for being the go-to guy when things got tough. But hearing it from her? It made me want to be better, to actually be the kind of person she thought I was. It made me want to do more than just live up to expectations; it made me want to live up to her expectations.

I chuckled softly, the lightness of the moment easing some of the tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying. "Comes with the territory of being the older brother. You learn to deal with people's shit." I said, shrugging casually, though I wasn’t so sure I believed it myself.

“Wow, way to ruin the moment,” she said, rolling her eyes, but there was a playful edge to her voice.

But as we reached the kitchen, I realized something else too. I wasn’t just the older brother anymore. I wasn’t just the guy everyone turned to. In that space, in the quiet moments we shared, I felt something else stirring inside me—something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time. Something that made my chest tighten and my thoughts race, but not in the usual way. It wasn’t pressure, or the weight of a thousand expectations—it was something lighter. Something hopeful.

And as we both stood there, exchanging the last of our banter, I couldn’t help but wonder if this—this—wasn’t just about being supportive. Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to feel something more. And it terrified me.

But for the first time in a long time, it felt like something worth chasing.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

I need part 3 nEOWWWW

When your friends don’t know best - part 3

Warning- cursing, nudity, violence etc 18+

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I had no idea…” you said as you practically ran up to Annie, looking her over.

"it could be worse," Annie said with a shrug as she sipped her champagne. "I mean he could be ugly."

You stared at your best friend like she’d completely lost her mind. “How can you be nonchalant about this? You're the one in danger if I misbehave for fucks sake!" You seethed at her. She was currently clad in a bikini laying out by the pool, like you were on vacation at a resort and not being held against your will.

“where do you think he goes all day anyways?" Annie signaled one of the bodyguards for more champagne and went over to the edge of the pool, dipping her feet in. "However he pays for all of this, is likely time consuming. He is insanely wealthy which comes with a lot of responsibility. Personally I think it's kind of romantic in like a dark way."

"you're insane." You bit out. You were having a hard time not hurting your friend yourself! Why was she on his side? “Why are you taking his side? Do you think I should actually take him seriously after what he,”

“Listen princess,” she cut you off once again,”I know this isn’t what you wanna hear, but you’re gonna have to accept it. If anyone comes looking for us, and if they actually find us, what are they going to do? I hate to break it to you, but this guy has the title and the type of money that laws don’t apply to them. Even if the police listen to our loved ones, the Marquis has an army. They’ll get themselves killed. If we escape, where will we go that he won’t find us? How will we get our papers and book flights to leave without him finding us? If anyone is insane, it’s you! So like I said, at least he’s not ugly.”

You knew she was right but you couldn’t admit it yet. You’d never felt so helpless and trapped in your life. You could feel the tears coming on, but before you’d let anyone see them, you spun on your heel and marched into the house. A few steps behind you were you're faithful guards, always staying close. Only giving you privacy in the bathroom, where they'd wait outside the door. You decided you'd take a bath and think.

You made your way through the massive estate, blind to the priceless antiques and art around you. At first you’d been impressed with his vast collection of priceless artifacts, until you’d realized he’d collected them all, just like you. Now whenever you looked at a famous painting or ancient vase, you imagined your face inserted into the scene. You imagined the Marquis in the background just out of sight, pulling the strings. It made you mad enough to spit.

Coming to the room that you'd been given, you informed your guards that you'd be bathing and they didn't say anything as usual. They just stood to each side of your bathroom door, staring straight ahead like you didn't exist. The first few days you’d been here, you’d begged them to help you escape, but they just ignored you.

You supposed they weren’t terrible since you didn’t think they’d told on you, but they didn’t help you at all either. You’d asked a maid to help you, and she’d told the Marquis. He’d told you this, by hooking Annie up to electrodes and shocking her until she’d thrown up all over herself.

That had shut you up until today, when you finally got to see Annie again, only for her to be on his side. You suppose you’d likely say the same to her, if the roles were reversed. She was practically a whipping boy and if you felt helpless, she must feel even worse. You needed to apologize after you had some time to gather your thoughts alone.

Making your way in the bathroom, you turned the water on and threw a bath bomb in the water. Undressing and taking your hair down, you stepped into the purple tinted water and tried to clear your mind so you could face your best friend and that man.

You gazed out the window at the setting sun and wondered if it was dinner time. You contemplated what you would wear, and what you could say to make Annie feel safer. It was your fault she was here.

So lost in the warmth of the water, and your thoughts, you didn't notice someone had entered the bathroom.

"it must be my birthday." The Marquis said in a low husky tone.

You're eyes shot open so fast that you wouldn't have been surprised if they had popped out of your skull. You sat up quickly, causing a large rush of water to spill out of the bath across the floor. You tried to cover yourself as much as possible, but when you locked eyes with the Marquis all your panic seemed to melt away.

"you're ok. You can trust me my love." He stated as he made his way to the side of the tub.

You couldn't explain it, but you believed him, and even though something in the back of your mind screamed danger, the longer you stared into his eyes, the less you felt like he was anything but safe.

You lowered your arms to reveal your chest and his eyes lit up in interest. You tried to think why he'd be interested in your chest but got nothing. You couldn't think and you couldn't look away, but you knew that something about that wasn't right. Your father had always said you were the most stubborn child alive, when you thought you were right, and you knew that was true.

A look of determination crossed your face and the Marquis couldn't help but chuckle. You could see the devotion and admiration in his eyes and it was flattering. This beautiful, wealthy powerful man wanted you, and you couldn't think of why that was a bad thing. Not with him right there.

Wait a minute. What were you thinking such nice things about him for? You forced your eyes away from his and stared down into the water at your toes.

Your toenail polish looked terrible. It was all chipped and your nails needed a trim. You also needed to shave your legs and underarms, but had not bothered keeping up with your appearance since you didn’t want him to like you.

You snapped your head to the side, remembering he was in the bathroom with you and wondered how you could possibly forget his presence like that.

Your eyes widened at the sight of a very naked man climbing into the large bath with you. When had he taken his clothes off? You closed your eyes, and searched the last few minutes and could only see his handsome face. When you opened them again and found he was only inches away from you, you didn’t handle it well.

You screamed.

You began to fight him but neither of you could find purchase in the slippery soapy water, so you both just tumbled around. You attempted to stand but fell on top of him twice, and realized he was laughing.

You tried to hold yourself off of him, but slipped again and he was no help since he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. Finally becoming irritated you snapped, "what is so damn funny?"

He took another few seconds to calm before pulling you on his lap and snuggling up to you affectionately. "In all my years on this earth, no woman has been so silly as you. I have always been successful with women, so I suppose I find the futility of it all, very amusing." He smiled into your skin before kissing you on the forehead. "I've had more fun with you this last week, than I've had the past 100 years."

"why do you say shit like that? You're not old, nobody is that old." You snapped. You were getting really sick of his strange comments.

He smiled a huge toothy smile and you noticed he had fangs. Rolling your eyes, you reached out and poked his fang, only for it to cut your finger. "Jesus! Did they file those down sharp enough?" You shouted, putting your finger in your mouth. You’d heard of people having their teeth filed down to resemble predators, but you didn’t think someone of his status would participate in such a trend.

You glared at him only to be met with yellow eyes, with slit pupils like a snake. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind tried to find a logical explanation for green human eyes, to shift to yellow snake eyes but you were coming up with nothing. You could feel your fight or flight mode kicking in, but you just stared at him wide eyed and frozen.

"Do you see mon Cherie?" He whispered.

You shook your head that you did not, and he closed his eyes and chuckled. When he opened them again they were their usual green again. You wondered if you’d hit your head when you had been trying to get away from him, and then contemplated if he wasn’t somehow slipping drugs into your food.

You looked down so you didn't get trapped in his stare again and looked up again quickly. You weren't sure how you forgot you were both nude, but now you'd seen his dick and it was hard. Should that even matter at this point? He had fucking snake eyes for fucks sake, and you're scared of a dick?

"tell me what you are thinking." He purred.

You tensed at the sound of his voice. Frantically running through different responses, you finally settled on one “What are you?"

The silence was palpable. As the seconds, turned into minutes, you finally turned to look him in his eyes and ask again, only more firm, "tell me what you are Vincent."

You were worried you’d forget yourself again if you stared into his eyes too long, so you made to get up and put some space between you two. His arms reached up and pulled you close to him. You knew you couldn’t overpower him, so you allowed yourself to go limp and huffed out a long sigh.

He sighed too, and just as you began to try and get up again, he spoke into your ear. "I am a vampire. I have lived 400 years, but only 8 of them are worth mentioning. Those blissful years I spent in the company of my soulmate Arielle, whose soul now lives within you.”

Your mind came screeching to a halt as you searched for something to say. All you could come up with was “how?” You weren’t sure what you even wanted to know but were relieved when he began speaking again.

“Arielle wished to be a mother, and only those born vampire, are able to produce offspring. Since she was born human, she wanted to have children before she would allow me to turn her.” You pulled your face back to look into His face. “She was killed when she was 8 months pregnant with our daughter. She was burned alive by her own brother. She had told her family the truth about me, even though I advised her not to.”

“What did you do?” You asked in spite of the fact you were sure it was a terrible fate that fell on Arielles’ family.

“I destroyed them of course. Not only them, but every person that saw her burn and did not stop it. Every villager, servant and beggar that did not even question why such a perfectly pure soul, was destroyed, and I am not sorry.” He looked you in the eyes, “I’d do it again.”

And you knew without a doubt, that he was telling you the truth. You knew he was capable of destroying an entire village in his rage, and you thanked god, that he thought you looked like Arielle. “So I look just like your wife?”

“No you have many differences in appearance. Same color hair, but her eyes were a soft brown and she was not so tall. She was not so lean as you are either. She was beautiful as you are, just in a more common way.” He explained.

Your brows knitted in confusion. “Then why do you think I have her soul?”

“Because I can recognize it.”

“ my soul?” You asked again.

“Souls are very ancient living things. They are unpredictable. I can’t begin to tell you exactly how it works. Some you never see more than once, while others bounce from life to life without a pause between. I do not know why or how they choose to live, but I can recognize them, just like you can recognize your friends and family. When you are a vampire, there are additional senses you acquire over time.” He explained.

“So you have powers?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he smirked.

His eyes darkened and he’d never looked so attractive as he did now. He bit his plump lip and slowly brought his face closer to yours. “May I kiss you?”

“Only if you promise, not to bite me.”

His brow shot up incredulously, and he wrapped his big hands around your waist and sensually spoke into your ear, “I promise.”

You nodded, and before you could blink you were out of the tub and in the bedroom, in the Marquis strong arms.

The Marquis laid you on the bed gently and then got on his knees between your legs. “What are you doing?” You asked nervously, as he pushed your legs apart so he could fit between them comfortably.

“I’m giving you a kiss.” He smirked up at you, before leaning forward and taking your sex in his mouth, and devouring you like a man starved.

Clutching the sheets so hard that the corners came loose, you couldn’t help but to fall apart. Never had anyone made you feel this way, and you wondered if this was possibly one of his powers. While you wouldn’t call yourself a slut, you’d had your fair share of lovers over the years, but none came close to what he was doing. Maybe it was the hundreds of years he’d been alive. How many pussies had he eaten?

Your climax slammed into you so hard, and sudden you screamed for the second time that day. Your head spun and your legs shook uncontrollably. You’d read about legs shaking from orgasm, but had never thought it was true till this moment.

Suddenly you felt lips pressed to yours in the gentlest kiss. You’d reached up and ran your fingers through his hair as you pressed him into the kiss. You couldn’t help but taste yourself on his lips, but it didn’t gross you out. You wondered if he was going to fuck you now and were surprised when you realized you wanted him to.

“I was supposed to be getting you for dinner.” He mumbled, breaking the kiss. “Annie is waiting.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s been forever!” You shrieked as you wriggled out from beneath him and rushed to the closet. “I wanted to apologize to her and I’m making her wait now too?”

The Marquis chuckled as he watched you rush around the room getting dressed like the house was on fire.

You ran in the bathroom and picked up his clothes, rushing back to the bed and tossing them down beside him. Grabbing his underwear, you began to put them on him. “I must say, not many women have ever put my clothes on.” He mused.

“Stand up,” you ordered. He obeyed and you got his boxers in place. Grabbing his pants you shimmied then up his legs, before grabbing his undershirt. Slipping the shirt over his head and tucking it, you reached for his button down shirt and pulled it on, pressing it down, attempting to remove as many wrinkles as possible. You buttoned it and tucked it into his pants, before securing them with his belt.

“My god you have complicated outfits, but you always look amazing so I guess it’s the price we must pay,” you said as you smiled up at him. He was looking at you with the strangest look on his face, but you were in too much of a hurry to think about what it could mean. Grabbing his vest, you put it on, followed by his blazer. There were still a few accessories on the bed, but you figured you’d done well enough when you fastened his ridiculously expensive watch into place. “Okay, you’re not perfect, but good enough for me. Let’s go eat! I’m starving.”

You didn’t notice the look of amusement on the Marquis face as you dragged him out of the room barefoot as you were. The fact you’d chosen a $10,000 dollar Zuhair Murad beaded mini dress, and threw it on like it was an old hoodie, made you that much more endearing. He wondered if you were even aware of the couture designer. He was a personal friend of his and he tried to imagine the man’s reaction to witnessing one of his creations worn by a barefoot girl, dragging a French aristocrat through his home like a naughty puppy.

You looked back at the Marquis and smiled at his dopey looking face. He wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t being an overbearing, controlling psycho. Maybe Annie was right and you should just make the best of this whole situation. Maybe he’d even let her go.

[hyunjiiniw]

*ੈ✩ (현진)

FLOWERS?

after your ex cheated on you and you cried to your friend hyunjin,there were flowers at your door when you hang up.

────────────────────

────────────────────

✩ friend!hyunjin fem!reader ONESHOT,open-ending,just friends,cute,comforting,fluff,teasing and confessing.

✩ hyunjiniw’s note decided to not put a label on what they finally ended up to be or will be,it’s all up to your imagination considering it’s oneshot,i got mad at myself too when i wrote this and let it end like that,not doing a closed-ending,but i hope you’ll enjoy!

✩ happy reading to you <3

────────────────────

the moment my phone slipped from my trembling hands, i crumbled onto my bed. the weight of my chest felt unbearable, as though every ounce of air had been sucked from the room.

my cheeks were streaked with tears, and my throat was raw from sobbing.

i couldn't believe it.

i’ve seen the proof-clear, undeniable proof. messages i was never supposed to see. pictures i couldn't unsee. my boyfriend of two years had cheated on me.

and now, all i felt was hollow.

the first person i thought to call wasn't my family or even my closest girl friend. it was hyunjin.

hyunjin, who'd been my friend since high school. hyunjin, who always had a way of making me feel seen. hyunjin, who i’d once sworn to myself that i’d never fall for. i couldn't ruin what i had with him, no matter how many times my heart betrayed me.

i hadn't told him about the cheating yet,i only managed to choke out the words "i need you." and, like always, hyunjin came through.

the screen lit up, signaling his incoming call. i swiped to answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

"hey," he said gently. "talk to me. what's going on?"

my voice cracked on the first word. "he-" i sucked in a shaky breath. "he cheated on me,hyun. i saw the messages. the pictures. it’s over."

silence.

not the awkward kind, but the kind that felt heavy, like he was trying to process what i’d just told him.

"y/n," he said softly, and his voice broke something in me. "i’m so sorry."

the sincerity in his tone undid me. i started crying again, the sobs shaking my entire body.

"i don't get it," i hiccupped. "was i not enough? was i... too much? how could he do this to me,hyun? after everything—after everything—“

"hey, no," he interrupted, his voice firm but still comforting. "don't do that. don't you dare blame yourself for his garbage decisions. you're incredible,y/n. if he couldn't see that, it's his loss."

i sniffled, trying to catch my breath. "it doesn't feel like his loss. it feels like mine."

"you haven't lost anything," hyunjin said, and the conviction in his words made me pause. "if anything, you've gotten rid of someone who didn't deserve you. and now, you have space for someone who does."

his words felt like a balm on my wounded heart, but the ache still lingered. "you really think so?"

"i know so," he said without hesitation. "you’re one of the most amazing people i know,y/n. anyone would be lucky to have you."

i tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "you’re just saying that because you're my friend."

"no,i’m saying it because it's true."

i didn't know what to say to that, so i let the silence stretch between us. it wasn't uncomfortable-just... quiet.

after a while, hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer this time. "i wish i could be there with you right now."

"me too," i admitted, fresh tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

"tell you what," he said, his tone lightening. "put on your favorite show, grab a blanket, and pretend i’m sitting next to you, making sarcastic comments about everything"

a laugh bubbled up despite myself. "that actually sounds nice."

"good. because you deserve nice things,y/n. don’t forget that, okay?"

"i’ll try," i said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"you’re gonna be okay," he promised. "i’ll check in tomorrow, yeah?"

"yeah," i agreed, feeling the faintest spark of hope.

when i hung up, the weight in my chest felt a little lighter. but the emptiness still lingered.

i hadn't expected much for the rest of the evening-just the quiet comfort of my blankets and the distraction of my favorite show. so,when the doorbell rang not fifteen minutes later, i froze.

cautiously, i made my way to the door, wiping my cheeks to look somewhat presentable. when i opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

sitting on my doorstep was a bouquet of flowers.

not just any flowers.they were my favorites-soft, pastel blooms wrapped in crisp white paper, tied with a delicate ribbon. my hands trembled as i picked them up, noticing the small card tucked inside.

i unfolded it, my heart pounding as i read the familiar, neat handwriting.

"because you deserve beautiful things, even on the ugliest days. -hyunjin"

my knees nearly gave out.

clutching the flowers to my chest, i sank onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. but these weren't tears of sadness. they were something else entirely-gratitude, warmth, something, that felt achingly close to love.

hyunjin had always been there for me. through every heartbreak, every failure, every joy.but this... this was different.

it was a reminder that even in my darkest moments, someone saw me . someone cared enough to remind me of my worth.

i stared at the flowers for what felt like forever, the petals soft and vibrant against my fingertips. the scent was delicate and sweet, wrapping around me like a gentle hug.

for the first time that night, i felt something other than heartbreak.

i felt hope.

[sweets-library]

Far Far Away

Shouta Aizawa/reader. Hizashi Yamada & Reader hurt/comfort. wc: 6.2k.

READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. DO NOT READ THIS IF THEY DO NOT APPEAL TO YOU. 18+ content warnings: Time outs, light punishments, use of daddy as a title, themes of discipline and D/S dynamics, a lot of caregiving in general

a/n: ok i dont wanna give too much away in the content warnings but yall know what i mean when i say discipline and d/s dynamics. no spanking this time tho! everyone clap for y/n Ao3

-

“Hi, baby. How are you?”

His voice came through steady and low and it immediately made you feel a little more grounded. You closed your eyes, gripping the phone tighter, as if that would bring him closer.

“Hi, Daddy,” you murmured, softer than you meant to.

A brief pause. Not hesitation, but recognition. Shouta had always been good at reading you, even when you barely said a word.

“…Sweetheart,” he said carefully, “are you doing alright?”

You bit your lip. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Normally, you would fumble your way into a call like this, a little shy, a little unsure before you were able to call him that special title. But not tonight. Tonight, everything felt raw, like a wound you couldn’t bandage fast enough.

“Um… I’m okay. I miss you.”

The lie hung in the air, heavy and brittle. He let it sit for a moment, giving you space to backtrack, to admit the truth. When you didn’t, he pressed gently.

“I miss you too, baby. Have you been taking care of yourself? Did you eat dinner?”

The tenderness in his voice was too much. Your throat tightened, and you looked down, ashamed, even though he wasn’t there to see it.

“Yeah. I mean… not really. I...”

Your words caught, tangled in a mess of guilt and fatigue. Shouta stayed quiet, waiting. He always waited, never rushing you, no matter how long it took.

“I… I messed up,” you finally whispered, the words cracking as they escaped. “I keep messing up. It’s like when you’re gone, I just… I fall apart. I can’t do what I’m supposed to do. I’m so fucking useless. It’s pathetic, and I just-”

“Hey. Stop,” he interrupted, firm but not unkind. “You know better than to talk about yourself like that.”

The sharpness in his tone cut through your spiralling thoughts, snapping you back to the moment. You took a shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “You’re going to be mad, and I deserve it. I’ve been so awful, and I-”

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening just enough to break through your panic, “I need you to listen to me, okay? I’m not mad. I’m not going to be mad. But I need you to tell me what’s going on so I can help. Start from the beginning. Take your time.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and inhaled deeply, the way he’d taught you before.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Work’s been crazy. Overtime, deadlines, and then I come home, and I just… I can’t turn it off. I keep working, or I just stare at my computer feeling guilty that it's not getting done.”

Shouta hummed quietly, encouraging you to continue.

“And I haven’t been eating right,” you added, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’m so tired I can’t cook, so I just order takeout, or I skip meals. And then I feel guilty because I’m spending too much money, and I know you wouldn't let me do this, and it’s just this cycle I can’t get out of.”

Your breath hitched, and you clenched your free hand into a fist, nails biting into your palm.

“And my chore chart,” you said, your voice breaking. “I stopped filling it out. I couldn’t keep up, and every time I looked at it, I just… I felt so useless. Like I can’t even do the basics.”

Silence. Not the cold kind, never with him, but the kind that felt like an open hand, waiting.

“Are you done?” he asked gently, after a moment.

You hesitated, then nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said. “First things first: I need you to breathe for me again. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You obeyed, drawing in a long, shaky breath and letting it out slowly.

“Good,” he said, his tone softening even more. “Now listen to me. You’re not useless, and you’re not lazy. You’re overwhelmed. You’re tired. And you’re human. That’s all.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he interrupted firmly. “You’re doing the best you can, and that’s enough for me. Always.”

The tears came harder then, the weight of his words breaking through the fragile dam you’d built around yourself.

“Sweetheart,” he continued, his voice steady and calm, “where are you right now?”

“In the living room,” you sniffled, wiping at your face.

“Good. I want you to stay there, okay? I’m going to call someone to check in on you, just to make sure you’re alright.”

“No, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he said, cutting you off gently. “Because I care about you. And because I’m not there to do it myself, as much as I want to be.”

The thought of him worrying about you, of him arranging for someone to come over, made your chest tighten, but not in a bad way. For the first time in days, you felt like you weren’t drowning.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re going to get through this together. You’re not alone, no matter how far apart we are. Remember that.”

You breathed steadily, the sound of Shouta’s calm voice blending with the faint tapping on his end as he made the call. Reinforcements, you thought bitterly. Because you couldn’t handle yourself. The shame curled tightly in your chest, a weight pressing down. How ridiculous it was that he couldn’t even leave you alone without things falling apart. You swallowed hard, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts.

“Alright, kid,” Shouta said, breaking the silence. His tone was gentle but authoritative. “Hizashi’s finishing his show in about an hour. He’s going to come straight to you after. That gives us some time to talk, okay? Does that sound good?”

His steady control over the situation soothed you, unravelling the frayed edges of your nerves. This was why you needed him. With Shouta, you could let go, surrendering the reins that felt so heavy in your own hands.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” you mumbled, the words almost a whisper.

“Good. Put me on speaker and head to the bedroom,” he instructed. “Change into your pajamas.”

You obeyed without hesitation, the simplicity of his commands grounding you in a way your chaotic thoughts couldn’t. Shouta’s voice followed you as you moved, steady and guiding.

“Now brush your teeth,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Take your time.”

You followed his instructions, the familiar rhythm of your nightly routine slowly easing the tension from your shoulders. Step by step, he walked you through it: brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing your hair. Each small task felt like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral you’d been trapped in.

By the time you sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of you, your breathing had evened out.

“Alright,” Shouta said, his voice calm but purposeful. “Let’s talk about the chore chart.”

You sighed, the mention of it making your stomach twist. 'Chore chart' wasn’t quite the right name for it. It was more like a self-care guide, a list of small tasks meant to help you stay on track when Shouta wasn’t around. Taking pictures of your meals to send him, jotting down one thing you were proud of in your journal, tidying up small areas of the house, it was supposed to help. And it had, for a while.

But lately, it had felt like a mountain you couldn’t climb, a constant reminder of how far you were falling behind.

“Do you think it’s still helping you?” Shouta asked, his tone free of judgment. “Or is it starting to feel like too much? The point is for it to support you, not to add stress. If it’s not working anymore, we can scrap it.”

“No!” you blurted, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, I like it. I do. I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a sip of water to steady yourself.

“I got so busy,” you continued, “that I kept missing things. And once I got behind, it just… it felt awful. Writing down ‘forgot’ or ‘failed’ on every square, like I was disappointing you. Like you’d come home and see how bad I was doing.”

Shouta was quiet for a moment, the weight of his presence palpable even through the phone.

“Sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but firm. “The chart isn’t a report card. It’s not there for me to judge you. It’s there to help you stay balanced, to remind you to take care of yourself. Missing things doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you human.”

You bit your lip, the tears threatening to return. “But it feels like I let you down.”

“You could never let me down,” he said simply. “You’re doing your best, and that’s all I ever ask of you. If the chart isn’t working right now, we’ll figure out something else. Together.”

The knot in your chest loosened, just a little. Shouta’s calm reassurances felt like a balm, soothing the ache of your self-doubt.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his tone warm and steady, grounding you. “We’re going to take this one step at a time. I’m here for you, even when I’m not physically there. You’re not alone in this, understand?”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes, though the lump in your throat still lingered. “I understand.”

“Good. For starters, I want you to leave the chart as it is until I get back. We’ll rework it together to better suit what you need right now,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Instead, I’d like you to text my personal phone throughout the day, the one I left at the agency. It's turned off and locked up so nobody will see it till I get back. Just send little updates about how you’re feeling and what you’ve been doing. That way, I can read them when I’m home, and we can go over what felt good or bad. It won’t be staring at you from the kitchen wall, and it won’t feel like a looming reminder. Does that sound easier for now?”

You paused, considering his words. It did feel easier, less like a record of your failures and more like a conversation. Something about the idea of texting him felt gentler, more forgiving. At least then, you wouldn’t have to see the evidence of your perceived shortcomings every time you passed through the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I think that’s better.”

“Alright,” Shouta said. There was approval in his tone, but it wasn’t smug or self-satisfied. It was simply… kind. Encouraging. “Now, I need you to listen to me carefully. You don’t have to agree to this. In fact, I don’t want you to if you’re not completely sure it will be good for you.”

“Okay,” you replied, your voice tinged with nervous curiosity.

“Do you want to agree on some punishments for this past week?” His tone remained steady, but there was a thread of hesitation, as if he was carefully weighing each word before saying it. “If you want to wipe the slate clean until I get back, that’s perfectly fine. In fact, I’d encourage it. But if you think it would help you feel less guilty and more grounded I’m willing to discuss it.”

Your breath hitched at his offer. A part of you had hoped for this, even though you hadn’t dared to bring it up.

“Yes,” you said quickly, your voice trembling with both relief and desperation. “Yes, please. I’m so sorry, and I want- I need to fix it. I need to feel like I’ve made up for everything I did wrong.”

There was a pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to make you wonder if you’d said too much. But when Shouta spoke again, his voice was as steady and calming as ever.

“Alright,” he said gently, though there was still a hint of caution in his tone. “If this is what you feel will help, we can talk about it. But you need to understand something first. This isn’t about punishing you for being human or for struggling. It’s about finding a way to help you let go of the guilt. If, at any point, it feels like too much, or if you change your mind, you tell me immediately. Understood?”

You nodded again, the weight in your chest easing just a little. “Understood.”

The discussion took up most of the time you had left, your voice trembling as you pushed for punishments that were harsher than you deserved. But Shouta, calm and steady as always, gently shut you down each time.

“No, sweetheart,” he said firmly when you suggested scrubbing the floors by hand. “Thats not going to solve anything. You’re not trying to wear yourself down or punish yourself into being better. You’re learning to take care of yourself. This isn’t about exhaustion; it’s about growth.”

His words carried the weight of authority, but there was no harshness in them. Still, each rejection left you feeling raw, vulnerable, until finally, with his guidance, you both settled on a plan.

“Alright,” Shouta said, his tone resolute but kind. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

You were to write 10 lines of positive affirmations in your journal every night till he’s home, a task designed to combat the negative thoughts you’d been drowning in. “And I mean real affirmations,” he clarified, his voice stern but compassionate. “No half-hearted ‘I guess I’m okay.’ I want to see sentences like, ‘I’m strong,’ ‘I’m capable,’ ‘I’m doing my best.’ Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmured, the weight of his expectations settling on your shoulders.

“Good,” he said. “You’re also going to log off your work computer by six pm. No exceptions. And no screens at all after eight. That includes your phone. I’ll still call you at 8:30 but that is the only time it should be in your hand”

Your usual bedtime of a lenient 11 was now a firm 9:30. Shouta had been clear: this wasn’t a punishment so much as a safeguard, a way to ensure you were getting the rest you so clearly needed.

Finally, he brought up the hardest part.

“And I’m going to have Hizashi check in on you over the phone in the afternoons,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “He’ll make sure you’re staying on track and looking after yourself. It’s not negotiable.”

You swallowed hard, guilt bubbling up at the thought of imposing on Hizashi. “I don’t want to bother him…”

“You’re not bothering him,” Shouta interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “He cares about you too, and he’s happy to help. You need to let people support you, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard, Hizashi can be a loudmouth, but he's patient, and he's good at picking people up. I trust him with my life and yours baby, do you?”

You nodded reluctantly, the logic in his words undeniable.

“And tonight,” Shouta continued, his voice softening just a fraction, “you’re going to take a 15-minute timeout in the corner while Hizashi’s there.”

The suggestion hit like a blow, your stomach twisting with embarrassment. “What?”

“This isn’t about shame,” he explained gently, anticipating your reaction. “It’s about reflection. I want you to think about how you’ve been treating yourself this week. Think about the fact that you could have asked Hizashi—or any of your friends—for help instead of letting things spiral. You’re not a burden, and it’s important you start believing that.”

“But why does he have to be there?” you asked hesitantly, your voice small.

“Because I want you to have someone there to bring you back down to earth if you start feeling overwhelmed,” Shouta said simply. “I’m trusting Hizashi to make sure this exercise is constructive, not self-flagellating. And, if you’re feeling brave enough, maybe you can talk to him about how you’ve been feeling. I know the guy talks a lot, but he can be good at listening too, if you let him.”

The knot in your throat tightened, but you nodded again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

“You’re stronger than you think, kid,” Shouta said, his tone softening even further. “None of this because I’m angry. I’m doing it because I care about you, and I know you can get through this. One step at a time, remember?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill again. “One step at a time.”

Then a soft chime interrupted the moment, and Shouta sighed, his tone shifting to one of reluctant responsibility. “Honey, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Duty calls.” His voice softened as he continued, “I’ll call Hizashi and fill him in on what we decided, okay? He’ll be there soon.”

The hour had flown by, leaving you wishing for just a little more time. The lump in your throat was hard to ignore, but you swallowed it down, trying to sound steady.

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, Sho. I miss you so much.”

The line was quiet for a beat, and then he sighed deeply, his voice rich with warmth. “Sweet girl, I love you so, so much. You hear me? More than anything. And I am always proud of you. I’ll be home before we know it, baby. Just hold on for me a little longer.”

His reassurance wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing the ache in your chest.

“Hizashi will be there in about 20 minutes,” he continued, his tone regaining its usual calm authority. “Go ahead and start on your lines while you wait for him. You’ll feel better once you’ve written a few. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, baby. Same time, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the heaviness in your heart.

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

And then, with a quiet click, the call ended, leaving you staring at the phone, the room suddenly feeling quieter and colder without his voice.

You took a deep breath, glancing at the journal on the table. Even though he wasn’t there, his presence lingered in every word he’d said, steadying you. With a small nod to yourself, you picked up your pen and opened the journal, ready to take the first step forward.

Writing lines is hard. The pen feels heavy in your hand as you try to think of nice things to say about yourself. The first few are simple—things Shouta would remind you of, like “I work hard” or “I care about others.” But as the list grows, so does the weight in your chest, and by the time you’ve scratched out seven, you’re staring at the page like it’s mocking you.

The knock at the door jolts you out of your thoughts. Your stomach flips with dread, and you take a moment to steel yourself. Mortification burns hot in your chest at the thought of what’s coming next, but you can’t exactly keep Hizashi waiting.

You open the door, and before you can say a single word, the blonde sweeps you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug.

“Baaaaby!” he exclaims, his voice bursting with its usual vibrancy. “Why didn’t you call me? Here I am, missing out on hanging with my favorite listener, and she’s sitting here all down in the dumps? That’s just cruel!”

Despite the dramatic delivery, the embrace is exactly what you need. The tension in your shoulders melts away as you lean into him without realizing it, letting yourself feel the comfort he radiates so effortlessly.

When he finally pulls back, his hands come up to cup your cheeks, squishing them gently until your lips puff out. His bright, expressive eyes scan your face, and while his pout is exaggerated, his concern feels genuine.

“Look at this face,” he says, shaking his head like he’s utterly scandalized. “How could you think for even a second that I’d be too busy for you?”

“Hi, Hizashi,” you mumble, still feeling small but lighter now, the edges of your lips twitching into a shy smile. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve got a lot going on…”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with mock indignation, sending his long braid swaying behind him. His glasses sit slightly askew from the dramatic hug, but he doesn’t seem to care as he flashes you a grin.

“Never too busy for you, babycakes,” he says firmly, his voice softening as he rubs your shoulders gently. “Now, come on. Let’s go sit down and get comfy. Sho filled me in, so we’ve got a plan to tackle this together, okay?”

You nod, the knot in your chest loosening a little more as he ushers you toward the couch. Hizashi’s presence is like a burst of sunshine in your quiet storm- bright, warm, and just distracting enough to make the heaviness feel less suffocating.

As he passes through the kitchen, Hizashi’s sharp eyes catch sight of your journal lying open on the table. With his usual flair, he sweeps it up dramatically, reading your lines so far with a  gasp that’s clearly over the top.

“Heyyy, baby! Look at you, crushing it already! These are solid gold affirmations,” he says, giving you an encouraging grin. “I’ve got a few ideas to spice up this list, though. I mean, ‘I care about others’ is cute and all, but how about ‘I’ve got a killer sense of humor’ or ‘I light up any room I walk into?’”

You can’t help but laugh at his delivery, a perfect mix of genuine pride and playful bravado. He carefully sets the journal back down, tapping it lightly with his finger. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish these before bed. Just, uh, let’s keep it between us. Can’t have that strict old man knowing I cheated and gave you an edge, right?”

You smile back, but you know he’s full of it. You remember the time, not long after he’d learned about yours and Shouta’s dynamic, when he joked about you writing your lines in both English and Japanese. You didn’t even think Shouta cared if you made spelling mistakes, he just wanted you to work through it.

Still smiling, you follow him into the living room. Hizashi plops down onto the middle cushion of the couch with all the grace of a collapsing star. His long limbs sprawl out in every direction, and he rests his hands lazily on his knees, eyes glinting up at you mischievously.

“Alright, honey,” he says, his tone suddenly mock-serious. “Any last words before I throw you in the slammer?”

At first, the playful edge to his voice makes you want to giggle, but then the weight of his words sinks in. Your face flushes crimson, and the reality of the situation hits you; he’s actually the one overseeing this. You hadn’t realized that Shouta had implied Hizashi would be the one in charge of your time out. You thought he’d just be there for support, to keep you grounded and make sure you didn’t break down. Now, though? The idea of sitting in the corner under Hizashi’s watch feels like a whole new level of mortification.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt, your voice barely a whisper. “I, um… I didn’t think you’d actually…”

Hizashi tilts his head, his grin softening into something more understanding.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says gently, his voice laced with compassion. “You know this isn’t about me being strict or scary, right? It’s about taking a breather and giving yourself space to think. Shouta just wanted me here to make sure you’re okay and give you a hand, not to intimidate you or anything like that.”

His words ease the knot in your chest, and the tension in your shoulders melts away a little. Still, the thought of sitting in the corner, thinking things through under Hizashi’s watch, makes your face burn.

“Come on, babycakes,” he teases gently, taking your hands in his. “We’ll make this quick and painless. You do your time-out, I’ll brainstorm some killer affirmations for you, and then maybe we can watch a little something before bed. Sound like a deal?”

The room feels both too quiet and too loud, the hum of the air conditioning amplified in your ears as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. The embarrassment sits heavy in your chest, curling around your thoughts like smoke, but Hizashi’s easy grin cuts through it like sunlight breaking through clouds. His lighthearted nature softens the edges of your discomfort, even as the flush on your cheeks refuses to fade.

“Good,” he says with a playful wink, his voice warm and teasing. “Now let’s get this show on the road. Tell me, what are you gonna think about in your time-out?”

The question catches you off guard. You bite your lip and drop your gaze to your hands, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. Shouta’s methods were always straightforward. He’d tell you exactly what to think about, have you repeat it back, and that was that. Being asked to decide for yourself feels unfamiliar, like stepping onto uneven ground.

“Um…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I’m gonna think about… how I should have called you?” The answer feels small, tentative, and your voice barely rises above a whisper.

Hizashi hums thoughtfully, tilting his head as if considering your response. “Hm, close! But not quite,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. His hands rest on his knees, his posture open and unthreatening, but his bright eyes hold a certain focus that tells you he’s taking this seriously. “I don’t want you to get stuck thinking about what went wrong. I want you to focus on what you can do better next time. Think constructive, baby. What’s a way you could handle things differently when you’re feeling low? What else can you come up with?”

The pressure to answer makes your heart race, and you glance around the room as if the walls might offer you an answer. The warmth of the living room, the cozy throw blanket draped over the couch, the faint smell of coffee lingering from earlier, feels at odds with the knot tightening in your stomach. You take a shaky breath, trying to focus.

“I could… think about ways I could’ve reached out sooner?” you say finally, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Hizashi’s face lights up with approval, and he leans forward slightly, his enthusiasm infectious. “That’s a good one, baby,” he says, his voice softening. “You’re getting there. And listen, you’re not alone in this, okay? I need you to really hear me on this; people love you. I love you. We’re here to help you out, no matter what, day or night.”

The sincerity in his voice is like a balm, soothing the raw edges of your self-doubt. You swallow hard, his words settling deep in your chest, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. Even as your thoughts swirl with guilt and hesitation, his presence feels steady, like an anchor keeping you from drifting too far.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling but resolute. You nod slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time since this started. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, his smile soft and full of pride. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders feels just a little lighter.

Hizashi ruffles your hair with a fond smile before turning you gently by the shoulders, his hands warm and steady. “Alright, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice both reassuring and firm. “Go think it over, and I’ll be right here when you’re ready. We’ll figure this out together.”

Your steps are slow as you move toward the corner of the living room, the weight of the moment settling over you like a heavy blanket. The familiar position feels strangely different with Hizashi there, the shift in dynamic making your heart race. Memories surface- Hizashi dropping something off at the apartment once while you were mid-time out, his gaze carefully avoiding you. Back then, he’d respected the unspoken boundary, probably at Shouta’s request, and you’d been grateful for the quiet discretion.

But this? This is different. This isn’t him passing through or pretending not to notice. He’s here, fully present, guiding you through this moment. You’d already come to terms with him knowing about your relationship with Shouta; it had been discussed openly, with your consent, and you trusted him completely. Still, the vulnerability of having him step into this role, even temporarily, makes your cheeks burn. Yet beneath the embarrassment, there’s a surprising sense of security.

You stop at the corner, place your hands behind your back, and lean forward until your nose gently touches the wall. The routine feels grounding, the familiarity of it giving you a strange kind of comfort. You take a deep breath, letting the quiet settle over you, broken only by the faint rustle of Hizashi shifting on the couch.

“Alright, perfect!” Hizashi’s voice breaks the silence, his tone playful but underscored with a steady firmness. “Keep that cute little nose right there until the timer goes off. If you need to back out, just say your safeword, okay? But other than that, no talking. Don’t interrupt me while I’m projecting good thoughts into that head of yours.”

A small, involuntary laugh escapes you, and you quickly bite your lip to stifle it. His energy is so different from Shouta’s, lighter, more playful, but no less earnest. You know he means every word, even if his delivery makes you want to smile. There’s a distinct sense of safety in the way he handles this moment, balancing humor with care, structure with warmth.

The initial embarrassment fades slightly as you focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing. Hizashi’s presence behind you, calm and unyielding, is a reminder that this isn’t really punishment. It’s a pause, a chance to reflect and reset. You trust him, just as you trust Shouta, and that trust anchors you now. Even in the quiet vulnerability of the corner, you know you’re not alone.

As you stand there, nose to the corner, your thoughts churn restlessly despite your efforts to calm them. Hizashi’s words echo faintly in your mind—focus on what you can do better next time. But it’s hard. The guilt gnaws at you, dragging your focus back to everything you feel you’ve done wrong. Why didn’t I reach out sooner? Why do I always let it get this bad?

You shift slightly, your shoulders tense as you try to redirect your thoughts. Hizashi wouldn’t want you stuck in this loop. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and force your mind to pivot. Okay, maybe next time, I’ll text someone right away. Even if I feel stupid, I could at least try. But the moment you think it, the doubt creeps in. What if I’m just a burden? What if I bother them at the wrong time?

Frustration bubbles up, and you clench your hands at your sides, determined not to let the negativity win. Hizashi’s voice comes back to you, bright and steady: “People love you. I love you. We’re here to help you out, no matter what.” The words feel distant but steady, like a rope to grab onto in the storm. You latch onto them, even if they don’t fully sink in yet.

What if next time I… I write it out first? Maybe I could figure out what I’m feeling before it gets overwhelming. Or maybe I could reach out to someone before I even get to that point. The ideas are shaky and uncertain, but they’re something. You try to focus on them, repeating them in your head like a mantra, holding onto the hope that you can do better.

Gradually, your body starts to relax. The ache in your chest softens, replaced by a tentative clarity. The week’s weight—the guilt, the fear, the constant tightrope of holding yourself together—begins to loosen its grip. You realize, with a startling pang, how much easier this could’ve been if you’d let someone in earlier. It’s not a new revelation, but standing here, forced to confront it, the truth hits a little deeper.

The pearl of anxiety over Shouta’s safety still lingers, sitting in the back of your mind. It’s quieter now, though, like the volume has been turned down. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe around it again.

The sharp buzz of the timer jolts you, and you jump slightly, startled. You blink, disoriented, realizing how much time has passed. Your legs feel a little stiff, and you shift on your feet, grounding yourself. To your surprise, your eyes are dry. Normally, time outs leave you a mess of tears and raw emotion, but you’ve already had that release earlier with Shouta. Now, you feel steadier, like you’ve taken a step forward, however small.

You don’t move right away, waiting for Hizashi. You know he’d want you to wait for his cue, and besides, a part of you needs the moment to process. His voice cuts through the quiet, warm and familiar.

“Aw, good girl, com'ere,” he calls, his tone full of affection.

You turn, and the sight of him with his arms open wide melts the last bit of tension in you. You shuffle toward him, letting him pull you into a tight, comforting hug. For a few moments, you just exist in the embrace, soaking up the warmth and care radiating from him. It anchors you, grounding you in a way that words can’t.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’m proud of you.”

And for the first time in a long while, you start to feel proud of yourself too.

But then, the yawn that had been threatening to break free finally caught up with you, forcing your jaw open in an exaggerated stretch. The sound was loud in the quiet room, your exhaustion betraying you.

“Someone’s running on fumes,” Hizashi teased, his voice laced with amusement as he tilted his head. “Alright, superstar. Let’s knock out those lines, and then I’ll tuck you in so you can get the rest you need. Capiche?”

His lighthearted tone made you giggle, and with it came a sense of relief. That suffocating weight you’d been carrying for days felt a little lighter now, a little easier to manage. Even though your body still sagged with fatigue, your chest felt clearer, like you could finally take a full breath.

Hizashi’s grin softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze. His touch was warm and grounding, somehow managed to settle your racing thoughts even further. It wasn’t just the contact, but the way he made you feel seen and cared for in such a simple gesture.

Without needing to say more, he guided you back to the table where your unfinished lines waited. You picked up the pen, but something had shifted. The task didn’t feel like a burden anymore. It felt manageable, almost comforting in its simplicity. Hizashi didn’t hover or rush you. He sat nearby, close enough that his presence kept you steady but far enough that you had the space to focus.

As you wrote, a realization began to settle in your chest. For the first time since Shouta had left, you felt okay. Not just okay even, but good. It wasn’t just about getting through the task; it was the knowledge that you didn’t have to do it alone. Hizashi had stepped in, seamlessly filling the gap, offering support without making you feel like a burden. His guidance wasn’t overbearing; it was steady, gentle, exactly what you needed.

You felt like you could handle things on your own now if you had to, but more importantly, you didn’t have to. That distinction was a quiet but powerful comfort. Someone had your back, even in Shouta’s absence.

As you finished the last line, you let out a small sigh, the words on the page feeling like a tangible victory. Hizashi gave a little cheer, clapping his hands softly in celebration.

“See? Told you you’d knock it out of the park,” he said, beaming at you.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your heart warming at his unshakeable enthusiasm. Hizashi was truly an amazing man, bright, compassionate, and endlessly understanding. You thought about how much he’d helped tonight, how he’d given you exactly what you needed without you even having to explain. Those thoughts swirled in your mind, filling you with gratitude and a quiet sense of awe. You knew you’d talk to Shouta about it when he got home, but for now, it wasn’t necessary.

For now, all you needed was to let yourself rest. The warmth of Hizashi’s presence was enough, his steady support wrapping around you like a blanket. You set the pen down, leaning back with a soft yawn as Hizashi moved to your side, ready to guide you to bed.

“Alright, let’s get you snuggled up,” he said softly, his teasing edge replaced with a gentler tone.

And for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into that care without hesitation, letting the weight of the world slip away as you breathed in the quiet comfort of knowing you were never truly alone.

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny couldn’t tell you when he joined the team. The first time he’d met Zatanna, she’d invited him to join the Justice League Dark. He’d denied, but had decided to stick around anyway. Then, somewhere along the line, Constantine had given him a JL communicator and that had been that. There was no initiation, no paperwork, and no official title given. One day, Phantom just showed up.

The Justice League, according to Raven who heard from Red Robin who was told by Nightwing who’d been in the room when Batman had found out, had had a bit to say about not going through the official process.

Phantom still wasn’t an actual member of either team, but he wasn’t upset about that. Sure, he didn’t get any of the perks that everyone else did, but he wasn’t the slightest bit upset about that.

As far as legalities and technicalities were concerned, Phantom wasn’t a part of the Justice League Dark. So why, pray tell, was he in a meeting between the JL and the JLD? Again?

The threat was an unknown being of supernatural origin. At least, that’s what he’d been told. Deadman had contacted him half way through the meeting to tell him that they’d probably need his expertise on this matter. Which, Danny would like to point out, was a very niche area. But, Deadman is one of his team - whenever that had happened - as well as one of his people. He was inclined to believe him.

Turns out that showing up to that meeting when called was a good idea. It was a larger scale than when he’d first dealt with something like it, but he knew this particular pattern anywhere.

As King, the Infinite Realms fed him information about where his people were and what they were doing. If they were in one of the infinite realms, if they were in the in between they all called home. She even let him know when someone joined or rejoined their chosen afterlife, seeing as the Realm Between was first and foremost an Afterlife. What She told him most, though, is where Concepts and Gods were and what they were going. The Observants were supposed to keep track of everything, especially because he was dealing with Living business, but they were doing a horrible job.

“Comas.” Superman was explaining, “We don’t know the cause, and none of the people have anything obvious in common.”

“So we need to find the source and take care of it, yeah?” Constantine said. Superman nodded. The Brit turned to Phantom. “So, Phantom, you recognise this?”

Phantom sighed tiredly. He so needs a pay raise for this. “Yeah, I do.”

The heroes in the room straightened up. Deadman smiled, “See? I told you we’d need ya here!”

“Shut up, man, I was having a good break,” he whined. “Besides, I’m not even a part of either team.”

“No,” Zatanna nodded, “But you agreed to be a consultant for the JLD. Now do your job; consult.”

Groaning again, Phantom let his head fall to the table. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go take care of it.” He stood, “C’mon, Deadman.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I want ice cream after I’m done and I’m gonna make you buy it.”

“I’m dead!”

“And? So am I.”

“I-”

“Just go with him, Deadman. Unless you’d rather be stuck in the House?”

It was Deadman’s turn to sigh. “Yeah, fine, alright.”

“I told you I’m a younger sibling, right?”

“Gasp! No. My own King? The betrayal!”

***

Phantom thought he and Nocturn were on pretty good terms. The king of Dreams had been pretty chill since they’d first fought, never really stepping on any toes, but he just had to go pull shit like this!

Well, Phantom wanted to be mad at Nocturn. However, this wasn’t the king of Dreams’ fault. In fact, this wasn’t even the fault of any of his people! It looked like the work of a Realms Being, but closer inspection proved it to be a really good fake out.

“This isn’t Nocturn.” he said to Deadman, “This isn’t anything I’ve seen before.”

“So, it’s just a really good fake?” the ghost asked.

Phantom nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for doubting you, Nocturn.” There was no response, but he didn’t expect one. He knew the ghost heard, however.

“So, what do we do now?”

“We should probably report back and get a bigger team on this.”

“You’re going to willingly work with the teams?”

“I do anyway.”

“Fair.”

“C’mon, let’s go get ice cream and call Mister Battison.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t call him ‘Batman’. Have you called him that to his face yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you ever going to?”

“Maybe.”

As it turns out, being dead does, in fact, prevent you from buying ice cream. So, Phantom had to go as Danny to get ice cream for himself while Deadman contacted the Justice League. Can he call discrimination? Too much paperwork.

Someone has a huge pair of balls to copy Nocturn and blame him. How, was the question. How did they know how Nocturn operated? Was the copy on purpose, or was it a complete accident? How were they knocking these people out? How were they doing it on such a large scale? Was it one person? Was it an organization? Was it actually supernatural? He knew for a fact that it wasn’t the Realms or Her people, but that’s all he knew.

Half the job is detective work, which is why the Justice League operates as a team. The Justice League Dark keeps their information close to their chest, working with what they know because they already know everything they need to about the cases they work on. And if they don’t know something, the JL has someone find out for them while the JLD figures it out as they go along.

Danny’s never been good at investigative work. When he was a kid, all his heroing was punching the problem until it went away. And if that didn’t work, he got back up and punched harder. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Valerie had always been so much better at the whole ‘gathering information’ aspect.

He worked well with a team, but he liked to work alone.

“Constainte,” he said as soon as the man answered his phone, “It’s not sourced from the Realms.”

“Hello to you, too, mate,” the magic user grumbled, “Deadman just finished telling the League. You enjoy your ice cream?”

“Would’ve been better if I didn’t have to buy it,” he muttered. “Are we sure this is a supernatural problem? It looks like Nocturne's work, but it’s got ‘human made’ written all over it.”

“Batman’s been looking into it with his team, minus Red Robin. He assures that it’s magical.”

“Well that limits exactly nothing. I can head to the Realms and see if She can tell me anything, but I doubt it. Maybe try asking the City Spirits?”

“Not every city has a spirit, Phantom.”

“No, but they all have graveyards. Try the protection spirits in the cities of the victims. Maybe even try seeing if the hospitals they’re staying at are haunted.”

“And talk to Hospital Ghosts? No thanks.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“You only say that because you’ve never had to deal with a pissed off Hospital Spirit.”

“Don’t piss off the Hospital Spirits and you’ll be fine!”

“Easier said than done, kid.”

“Send Z if you’re really that nervous about it.”

“She’s even less likely to.”

“Then go with Nightwing.”

“You’d trust a Bat to talk to a Hospital Spirit?”

“I trust Nightwing to talk to a Hospital Spirit. And a Graveyard Spirit. Besides, isn’t one of the victims from Bludhaven?”

A sigh. “What’d he do to get your trust so easily?”

“He’s just a little guy, Connie!”

“He’s a grown ass man. And don’t call me Connie!”

“Exactly!” Phantom’s grin was audible. “He’s just a guy!” His energy dropped a bit. “Seriously, though, take Nightwing and talk to some Graveyard and Hospital Spirits. Also see if Lady Gotham can help out. I’ll go see what the Infinite Realms can tell me.”

“Alright. You’ll be back for dinner?”

“If you’re buying.”

Part 14 Part 16

[joudama]

That’s why it feels so hollow and unfair when the person from the city you didn’t save gets so mad at you, especially with how Lucanis just won’t forgive you (and let’s not even talk about how so many of the women in Veilguard are super forgiving and coddling - even Harding makes excuses for Solas - but only the man stays mad and won’t forgive you. That is a whole other can of worms I’m not opening even for Assan), when you literally split the team and the only difference is where you personally went.

The only way it makes sense is if the game is saying every one of this team of supposed experts is actually incompetent unless you are personally there directing them. (Which, honestly, given the absolute state of the AI and how companions on their own will do a spitball’s worth of damage or wander around aimlessly, maybe is what they’re trying to say.)

I know they were trying to do a “choices have consequences” type thing, but it shouldn’t result in frustration/irritation. I’ve never been just irritated at a character being mad at and snippy with me for a choice like I was with Veilguard, and it’s because it fundamentally feels unfair and like it doesn’t make sense on a basic level. It doesn’t make sense to be so mad at Rook because the game hasn’t explained why Rook specifically is so important and needs to be there. It doesn’t make sense because the exact same number of people from the team went to both cities. It doesn’t make sense for Neve or Lucanis to only blame you and no one else, especially Lucanis not holding it against Neve if you’re a Shadow Dragon Rook and you basically did the same thing Neve did. It doesn’t make sense for the dragon to have flown off from one city and not the other just because Rook was there - even assuming the dragon didn’t leave at the same time, because thanks to the eluvians, you can get to the other city almost immediately, and there’s no dragon there anymore, so it seems like Ghilan’nain called them both off at the same time.

And as for the dagger excuse some folks came up with, well, it would have made more sense, if Ghilan’nain wanted that dagger and knew you had it, to have called the OTHER dragon to where you are and the city you went to ends up the one that gets fucked up because now two dragons are attacking it. Can you imagine how much better that would have played out, story wise? Instead of the person being mad at you because you didn’t help, they AND you are guilty because you’re the direct cause of their city being destroyed? Then them also lashing out at you makes more sense, because it really is directly because of you, even if you didn’t know it, mixed with their own feelings of guilt and grief needing an outlet and target. And imagine THAT being part of the prison of regret thing - you literally have the destruction of a city on your conscious in a way you don’t in the current version.

Oh, but there I go, wanting actual nuance and conflict, and can’t have that.

A big reason why the Minrathos vs Treviso "choice" feels so weird to me is because I sent 3 people to Minrathos and 3 people to Treviso. So really I didn't make a choice at all except to choose where Rook specifically should go. Why is Rook singled out as the reason the fight in one city went better than in the other, and not one of the other companions?

And that got me thinking.

Why are half the companions always just sitting around doing nothing anyway? (in-universe i mean. I know the reason is gameplay.)

In the Minrathos vs the Treviso choice, we have 2 teams working at the same time in different locations, so it is possible.

Admittedly, none of these kinds of game ever give a reason a team can only have 3-4 people in it, so we take this as a given. But like. In the previous Dragon Age games it didn't feel weird that only the PC can do these quests, and the other companions just tag along.

In Origins, the PC is the only Grey Warden willing to lead a team.

In DA2, they aren't even saving the world! Hawke is just doing that stuff as a hobby and asking their friends for help. And the friends don't sit around doing nothing when they aren't with Hawke, they have their own lives!

In Inquisition, the Inquisitor is the only one who can seal the breaches, and they even put in a gameplay mechanic where certain tasks are delegated via the War Table. (Though, as I did complain about at the time, some more tasks could have been delegated. Looking at you, collect 10 elfroot)

But in DAtV? Why the hell aren't we dividing up all that work, all those quests? The companions in the Lighthouse have fuckall to do except cook and read! They could be out there!

Now, I'm not saying they SHOULD be out there, that would be ridiculous, gameplay-wise. But uhhh I WOULD appreciate it if the writing gave me a reason why they aren't. What makes Rook so special anyway??

[rosehxnt]

conflicted

[moonlightcycle571]

All the Batkids have their own favourite Superhero (that’s not Batman), but it comes as a surprise when Damian says his favourite is Captain Marvel.

Captain Marvel, after being put on ‘Robin Watch’ after Batman had to disappear in the Watchtower for whatever reason: so … what do you like to do?

Damian, who vividly remembers Dick telling him to play nice or he’ll tell Batman about the 364 cats he’s fostered with Selina: I … like Cats

Captain Marvel, who has no idea what normal kids do: Oh, me too! My best friend is a talking cat!

Damian, intrigued: … elaborate

Captain Marvel, already showing Damian pictures of Tawny: This is Tawky Tawny, he’s a magic tiger that sometimes live in the Zoo! He’s also my best friend 🥰💕😍💕😍💖💗💗💗💗😍😊🎉😊😍😍

Damian, already calling Selina: I would like to meet this Tawky Tawny.

Later, Batman would start to panic when he couldn’t find Robin, but then would be shown a picture from Instagram of Robin, Catwoman and Captain Marvel in Fawcette Zoo, specifically the tiger cage hugging a massive Bengal Tiger, captioned “the most civilised tiger you will ever meet”. The next picture is a picture with the three of them having tea with said Tiger in a suit.

Bonus

Dick, Superman’s Number 1 fan: Oh please, he’s obviously the most like me! Captain Marvel and Superman look like they can be BROTHERS

Jason, forever a Wonder Woman Stan: HA, I heard that he WAS Wonder Woman’s Brother

Tim, hiding all his Cap merch: Oh yeah, he’s nothing like Red Tornado, so I’m good

Steph: why wasn’t I invited to the tea party …

Barbara and Alfred, tracking Captain down: Don’t worry, we’ll be invited to the next one

Cass, sensing something is off: … new … brother????

If you see Batman sulking in the corner, you saw wrong. If Batman sulks harder when he realises Barbara and Alfred figured out Captain Marvels identity before him and refuse to share… you’re a fucking liar.

Bonus

Flash: …

Captain Marvel: …

Flash: so when do we get to hug the magic kitty

Captain Marvel: FOR THE LOVE OF-

Tawny, not even a week later: ✨I’m so popular✨