#lady bird!au

[krazycat6167]

So @somerandomdudelmao made a version of their sona in a dystopia (inspired by @tapakah0 doing the same to theirs) and the person in this ask named the robot C.A.S.5 and I thought, ‘well then there’s at least four other C.A.S. units out and about in the world’ leading to this being the end result! It was a lot of fun to come up with the different customizations each C.A.S. unit has.

also, the design for C.A.S.4 (Cash) was partially inspired by @mobiitez post.

Doodles:

[dexterkronos]

Why MothJohn when OwlJohn?

Okay so like being serious here; what's with everyone assigning Monster Johnathan Sims into being a Moth? Why can't he be an owl?

This has bugged me an inordinate amount and in true Eye Lady fashion, I'm gonna try to prove my propaganda ideation has merit (and also unravel this bloody mess).

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

Please help me unravel this with your own theories/responses/knowledge this is critical for my AO3 Magnus x (OwnSeries) AU

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Points for OwlJohn:

Owl symbolism in the Magnus Institute's logo

Owls (mainly the Little Owl) are associated with the Greek Goddess Athena (Goddess of Wisdom, Warfare and Handicrafts), and the Eye is a Wisdom-based Entity fragment.

Being an Owl (Athena) puts them at odds with Spider (Arachne), thus being reflective of the Eye (Watching) and Web (Acting) mindsets.

Harpy John! Like, hello???? Bird wings??? Being a big floofy owl creature like Eda Clawthorne from The Owl House????

Owls blink super quickly so like, metaphor for not being able to close eyes?

Points for MothJohn (so far)

Mentions of a 'chrysalis' in MAG 162

Death's-head Hawkmoths are apparently tied to supernatural/evil things?????? [Source: Wikipedia..? (i cant remember)]

Moths apparently represent transformation and rebirth??? [Source: some website labelled the "Tarrant Country College" idk i took a cursory glance]

Quote about being between a moth and a pilgrim [MAG 164..?] (Courtesy of @cirrus-grey )

Moths can have eyes on their wings to scare off predators (Courtesy of @nonbinarytoast)

If I've missed anything, please tell me because I'm genuinely curious for the sake of the Magnus-(Own Series) AU I'm cooking on AO3.

Might even try cooking a MothJohn vs OwlJohn propo image, or use one of my Archivist OCs for the Magnus-(OwnSeries) AU. Or both. Or all three.

(Also yes I know about Sphinx!Jonn and Dragon!John variations but there's no. bloody. owls.)

[mistyjessart]

BBC Ghosts Bird AU

@m1nts and I cooked so have a bird AU

In this AU Alison is an ornithologist who moves with Mike into Button House and notices a really strange combination of birds that live by the lake so she decides to study them

Mike is your average person who just knows that birds are birds and that's about it and Alison has to constantly stop him from feeding them bread

The Captain is a pigeon (because messenger pigeons were used in the war), but since pigeons don't live that long he's a trained race pigeon that got left behind when the old owner moved (because this is his home dammit)

Also they look like they have mustaches

Havers is a Great Reed Warbler that migrates to Africa every winter

Pigeon Cap gets visibly depressed when his warbler bf is gone

Kitty is a Skylark who kinda just started following Cap around one day and does little head bops at the other birds to get them to dance with her

Robin is a tawny owl because moon and hunting, it's also very silly to see a big owl interact with all the little birds, especially Kitty

Mary and Annie are northern cardinal gfs (yes because the feathers look like fire)

Fanny is a duck and she has an absolute blast swimming around the pond and aggressively quacking at all the other birds for funsies

Pat's a dunnock cuz they're garden birds common to Yorkshire

Julian is a European Shag because YES that IS a real bird

Thomas is a nightingale whose mate got stolen by his cousin

After Allison and Mike move in, he warms up to her and sits on her shoulder singing all day, which confuses them both, especially when the tiny little nightingale tries to attack Mike, but hey, she's the bird whisperer now I guess

Humphrey is a chicken because they can survive with their head chopped off

The plague ghosts are a murder of crows that come by to visit (and steal the bird seed Allison puts out) every now and then

bird photos for reference under the cut:

[charlietheepicwriter7]

the ship name for jazz x dick grayson is Night Birds, right?

Well, Night Birds, but Jazz was Red X

Every summer, Maddie and Jack would sign Jazz and Danny up for the cheesiest, mind-numbingly boring ghost hunting camp in the world, located in Jump City. There's maybe a dozen other kids there, but only two camp councilors, so it's super easy for Jazz to sneak out of there. Danny, of course, is super mad that she doesn't take him with her, but as the elder, the 12 to his 9, she refuses to risk him in the dangerous metafilled Jump City.

This ghost hunting camp is what sparks Jazz's bitter, teenage rebellion. SHE wanted to go to a psychology camp; she'd even picked one out in Florida, only a few miles away from a space program for Danny. But noooooo, Dad had found a dirty, ripped pamphlet for Spooky Ghost Camp and signed them both up, without. even. asking. At least Danny's well looked after, being the youngest kid at camp, but that gives Jazz free time.

and in her free time, she fixates on one of her first obsessions: the psychology of superheroes.

Not sure how Jazz would get the Red X suit; she'd have to learn that Robin was Red X, then steal it, and I'm not sure how'd she'd accomplish that. But she's a smart, independent child badass, I'm sure she figured it out.

Every year her parents sent her and Danny to that damn ghost camp. Every year, Jazz put on the Red X suit and tormented the Teen Titans. She couldn't dye her hair, or sneak out at night, but she had crime. Robin gets his first bisexual crisis because of her bantering/flirting with him.

Eventually Danny finds out she's Red X and is thrilled. His sister can beat up the Teen Titans, it's so cool. Maybe in the future, Jazz can steal the Pink X suit from the Teen Titans Go comics so Danny can join in the fun, have some fun gender shenanigans for them both to have alteregos that are the opposite gender.

The reason why I thought of thsi au is because I keep reading "Danny is a thief in Gotham" type stories (which are EXCELLENT) and I can't stop imagining this specific scene: Thief Danny is cornered by the batfam, about to be caught, when out of nowhere... *spanish guitar* Red X comes to save the kid. No one knows who this guy is except for Nightwing, who seems to automatically hate this guy who's... flirting with him? Is this a Cat Woman situation? This sounds like a Cat Woman situation.

Also, not sure which I like better:

For Jazz to fill out on her chest, but keep the male voice of Red X, leading to some gender confusion.

For Red X to become less of an addition to Jazz as it is part of her core personality. She is just as much Red X as she is Jazz, so when her chest comes in, she thinks "hmm, don't like that" and gets top surgery.

bc Jazz? Still totally into the Red X game even as an adult. She even found a similar ghost hunting camp in Bloodhaven after Robin went solo. She hadn't even graduated high school yet, but her favorite hobby is tormenting this one superhero. She bats at him like a cat with a spider.

[stardust948]

[Out shopping]

Ursa: Are you tired?

Azula: No.

Ursa: If you're tired, we can sit down.

Azula: I'm not tired.

Ursa: Oh okay. I couldn't tell because you were dragging your feet.

Azula: Why didn't you just say pick up your feet?

Ursa: I didn't know if you were tired.

Azula: You were being passive aggressive!

Ursa: No I wasn't-

Azula: You're so infuriating!

Ursa: Please stop yelling in the store.

Azula: I'm not yelling!

Ursa: *Holds out a dress*

Azula: Oh!

Ursa: Do you love it?

Azula: It's perfect!

[tai-janai]

he was trying to . get that little bug behind your face. he missed

Behold, and pray to, The Tower equivalent: The Ode

[cassandra-e-sandsmark]

Time to absolutely ruin my mental health for the night again by watching Lady Bird for the umteenth time!!

[sarahsmi13s]

Lieutenant Rogers - part 8

Safe Places

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, bob floyd, dagger squad, sam wilson, john walker (mentioned), lemar hoskins (mentioned), karli morgenthau (mentioned), nico (mentioned)

word count: ~8.7k

chapter warnings: language, murder, grief, isolation, fighting, talk of blood, crying, internalizing feelings, vomiting (no one pukes but there are mentions of it), slightly obsessive behaviors, omaha is a good boyfriend, star really needs a hug, please let me know if I missed any

a/n: hi... hello... i just want to thank you all for your immense patience with me. i'm so so sorry it's almost been a year sense the last update. i hope this chapter was worth the wait 💙

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

chapter summary: in the wake of the publicized murder of a flag smasher, star has to wrestle with herself as she comes to terms with everything that has happened and anticipate what will happen in the fall out -- all the while omaha tries not to let his feelings overshadow hers

lieutenant rogers universe previous part || next part

You stared at your phone, the video stopped on a frame of the shield covered in blood. Your father’s shield, covered in blood. Covered in the blood of someone who was pleading for their life. It didn’t matter to you that they were a Flag Smasher. They were a fucking person.

Ice ran through your veins, a deathly chill capable of putting out the bonfire in front of you.

The one symbol of hope, the one piece of your father that you thought would keep a flame of his comfort burning in the world, was now smothered to nothing but bloodied ashes. His memory, his legacy, was now tainted. 

Swallowing the bitter taste of alcohol rising back up in your throat, you quietly excused yourself from the group.

You knew Omaha was watching you the whole time you trekked up the beach, your phone fighting for its life in your hand. He was going to give you your space, give you a moment to let yourself be angry and let it out before trying to console you. You needed a minute to be angry alone, then you both could be angry together.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time though, even as your face was illuminated by your phone screen as you called Sam.

You tried to take deep, calming breaths as you waited for Sam to pick up. 

It was morning time in Latvia, so you knew he would be awake. And if he wasn’t, you’d happily be his wake-up call.

Your thumb tapped on your fingers, index finger to pinky and back again, while your exhales fell out of trembling lips. You couldn’t puke. You weren’t going to puke. This was not the time to throw up. 

Saliva built up in your mouth, and your lips began to feel sticky – a tell-tale sign that you were probably going to vomit. Your stomach churned as you felt the buzzing heat of your nerves roll over your skin. 

You hated puking; you didn’t do it often. It was hard for you to get sick, and the serum also helped you to keep from puking after being in your plane. So, you being over the toilet or a trash can expelling the contents of your stomach wasn’t an event you experienced regularly. When it did happen, you were absolutely miserable.

You spit the built-up saliva out into the sand, your hand resting over your stomach as you hummed to try and ward away the nausea. 

Pick up the damn phone, Wilson, you thought as you closed your eyes and exhaled, head tilting up toward the navy blue sky.

Finally, just as you were about to hang up and try again, he answered, his tone already pleading and desperate.

“I know-” 

“What. The. Fuck did he do?” 

Sam’s words went unheard by you as you cut him off, hissing harshly into the receiver.

Anger and frustration rose up in place of the bile and alcohol that had been in your throat moments ago. Your words pushed the nausea out of the way.

Was your anger misplaced? You didn’t think so.

He promised you that he would keep John in line. Keep your father's legacy intact despite the catastrophe tasked with carrying it on. Sam gave you his word that he wouldn’t let Walker ruin it. 

And now, for John to go and do this? With Sam doing nothing to stop him?

As far as you were concerned, your anger towards him was justified.

“Y/N-”

“No, Sam! Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! What the hell happened?”

You weren’t about to let Sam try to calm you down. That wasn’t his place. Not after he failed to do the one thing he said he would.

Sam sighed, and the weight of it dampened the ringing in your ears slightly, a realization hitting you.

Sam was there. He watched it and everything that led up to it. He was just as angry about this situation as you were, not to mention the guilt and regret that probably weighed on his shoulders now, too.

Had your emotions jumped the gun? Did you lash out at Sam too quickly?

Despite that revelation there were things you couldn’t let go, justifications you were too stubborn to let go of. Stuck on his broken promise.

“Lemar Hoskins is dead. Karli killed him during a fight…”

Your heart sank.

You met Lemar once. It was before you left for the mission and only for a few minutes, but he seemed like such a sweet guy. He was there to support John and have his back; he was being a good friend.

And look where that got him…

You crossed your arm over your chest, your free hand gripping your bicep as your jaw clenched. “That’s-that’s unfortunate… but that doesn’t justify murder.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“He didn’t even kill Karli. Flag Smasher or not, that man was innocent.” You dug your foot into the sand, “He didn’t deserve to die.”

The ringing in your ears came back as the quiet slowly took over the call, Sam’s end unnervingly bare of words. Your jaw ticked in the silence, anger flaring up in your stomach. 

You finally broke it, letting yourself ask:

“Why didn’t you stop him? How could you allow this to happen?”

“Oh no, no, no, no. You’re not about to blame me for this,” Sam responded, his tone defensive and sharp.

Your free hand flew out to the side, your own defensiveness coming to light.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

In the midst of your shouting and arm flailing, you didn’t think about the possibility of there being people nearby. Nor did it occur to you that the scene you were making might make them uncomfortable – but, honestly, you didn’t really care.

“Don’t you think I would have stopped him if I could’ve? You really think that I just stood there and let him take an innocent life?”

The wild arm fell limp and slapped against your thigh, a huff escaping your lips. “Sam–”

“No, Y/N, it’s my turn to talk. While I understand your anger towards me, hell I’m angry towards me, but just give me a chance to explain. Please.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you looked at the sand, “Okay… tell me what happened.” Your voice was a little softer, not as brassy or harsh, but still firm.

Sam let out a breath, taking a moment to collect the right words.

“After the fight, we all just scattered. Bucky and I got separated from John, and… by the time we got there, we were too late.”

You stayed quiet, your tongue swiping over your teeth as you let Sam continue.

“He ran off after he realized what he had done… Bucky and I went after him, tracked him down to an abandoned train station. When we got there, we confronted him and tried to get the shield back civilly, but John’s pride got in the way… it got ugly, but we got the shield back. It’s with me right now.”

You nodded, your thumb popping your fingers at your side as you drew in a breath. 

“What about Walker?” You need to change the focus, your tongue redirecting itself to form the question rather than the comment it really wanted to say.

“What do you mean?” Sam was clearly confused by the shift, but he welcomed it internally.

“Where is John, Sam?”

“They- His handlers, I guess is what they are, took him back to the States. Probably will have a hearing in a few days…” He trailed off, now wondering why you wanted to know Walker’s whereabouts. “What are you planning, Star?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wilson,” you snapped.

“Y/N–”

“You can’t stop me, Sam. Don’t try–”

“Walker took the serum, Y/N.” Your brow furrowed for a second as you processed the words Sam had interrupted you with, and the second you did – it felt like your organs turned to lead.

John Walker was a Super Soldier now? That’s just… fucking great and definitely not a huge problem for you.

You groaned a little and rubbed your forehead after you recovered from the slight shock, “I’m still going to confront him. I can’t sit in fucking silence about this. Not now…”

“And I don't expect you to. But you needed to know what you were walking into.”

You swallow and nod, “Well, thank you for that. I’ll umm.. I’ll keep that in mind.” After another beat of silence, Sam sighed a little, “Look, Y/N, we–”

You shook your head, “Later, Sam, this… this is not a conversation I want to have over the phone with just you. Bucky needs to be in on this, too.”

“Right, right, of course.” 

You nodded and shook out your hand, “Bye, Sam.”

“Talk later, kid.”

After hanging up, you rubbed your face before shoving your phone in your pocket and walking toward the shore.

You needed a second to breathe. You just got back from a high-stress mission, and now Walker has desecrated the only thing left of your father in this world that people put meaning to. And you knew that by tomorrow morning, newspapers, magazines, and the news reporters would be on your ass trying to get a statement.

Were you going to respond? Hell no. Why? Because you didn’t need your words twisted and thrown out into the world for people to use for their own agenda.

But you would deal with that in the morning. Right now, you just need to think and take a breath.

A chilled, salty breeze cooled your heated skin and brought notice to the hot tears of frustration on your cheeks.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you wiped them from your face. “Get it together, Rogers..”

“Honey,” Neil said gently to announce his presence before he touched your shoulders. 

You sucked in a breath, “‘m fine, baby…” He shook his head and turned you to face him, “No, Star-light, you’re not.”

More tears sprung to your eyes, and you looked down in an attempt to fight them off. “No, Neil, I’m f-”

He tilted your chin up, “Stop lying to yourself. You’re not okay, you’re pissed. You have every right to be upset.” His thumb reached up to swipe a tear away, “Please don’t hold it in…”

Your lip quivered, and you inhaled sharply, shaking your head, “I have to be strong. I can’t fucking cry just because I’m angry.” You pulled back a little and harshly wiped your eyes, not missing the look on your boyfriend’s face. 

You knew he was just looking out for you and you knew he was right. But you had a mission and you needed to focus. You could break down later – breaking down would cause you to shut down, and you didn’t have time to shut down.

Omaha sighed and helped wipe away the tears that escaped, “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t hold this in – it’s okay to cry…” He held your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “Scream, yell, cry, punch something-”

“Neil, I appreciate this, all of it. I do. But you just don’t understand what’s going on in my brain and in my heart right now.”

“Then help me understand. I want to be there for you.”

You sighed sadly, “I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. And you are here for me, Neil. Because you’re who I’m gonna fall on when the weight of this crashes down on me, you are going to be my rock.” You cupped his face in your hands, “You are my rock. I just… I need to face this first.”

He nodded and kissed your palm before kissing your fingertips as he moved one of your hands to his chest. “I love you, Star-light.” You smiled softly at him, “I love you too, Oma.” 

Omaha kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, “You wanna head home?” You sniffled and nodded against his neck, “Please, if I stay, I’m afraid I’ll ruin the mood…” He nodded and rubbed your back, “C’mon Doll, let’s go home. I’ll send someone a text and let them know what’s goin’ on.”

You nodded and pulled back from the hug but stayed tucked under his arm as you both walked to Neil’s Jeep.

The ride home was nearly silent. The only sound in the Jeep was the radio, which had been turned down as low as it could go while still being audible.

Your left hand was threaded with his right one, your thumb pressing down on his knuckle like a button. The tip of his thumb moved up and down, letting itself be manipulated. Neil always made sure to keep his hand loose and moveable when you were tense or anxious. He knew how little control you felt you had in this situation, how you felt like the entire universe was crashing down on you, and you had nothing to get the pieces back in their rightful place.

So he could give you this. He could let you squeeze and press and twist and pull, trace whatever lines or patterns you needed to to ease your nerves. To let you feel in control of something.

Omaha knew better than to ask you questions. Your conversation with Sam was a private thing and something that you would talk to him about when you were ready. He didn’t need to push you for information or to talk about your feelings right now, and he trusted that if it was something you thought he needed to know, you would tell him.

That trust didn’t stop him from worrying, though.

He could handle your anxious silence. He understood it. But that doesn’t mean he liked it. 

He knew that your mind wasn’t putting together coherent thoughts, each one overlapping the next until it was just a cacophony of things that overwhelmed you to the core. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tears in your lash line, welling up and making your eyes glossy. They beaded up on your eyelashes like dew on blades of grass in the morning. They gorgeously reflected any light that they could catch – the moonlight, streetlights, headlights of the few cars that passed you. But you didn’t let them roll over, catching them on the back of your finger before they had the chance.

Your chest stuttered softly with your shaky inhales, something he would have never noticed if he hadn’t learned all of your habits over the course of your five-year relationship. You tried to keep your breathing soft and controlled, quiet enough so you didn’t worry Neil. 

He’d also catch you attempting to pick at your lips, squeezing your hand every once in a while to divert your attention and let you know that he saw you. Usually, you’d give him an absent-minded squeeze back, and your hand would move to your chest, your thumb rubbing against the words scribbled across your collarbone and your heart thumping against it in time with the pulse he could feel against his own wrist.

He almost didn’t want to go home. He could sit in silence in the car, drive around for hours in this silence. In this silence, you were right next to him, holding his hand. This silence wasn’t despair; it wasn’t as heartbreaking as the silence at home.

At home… at home, you had more room to be distant. You had space to be alone, away from him. He understood that you needed space, but he hated it when you would isolate yourself in your own home. You’d tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and just try to figure it out by yourself. You’d completely detach yourself and go into focus mode, locking on to figuring out how to fix this situation – one that couldn’t really be fixed.

When he finally decided to pull into the house, you didn't do what he expected. Omaha expected you to yank your hand from his and bolt into the house to find a corner to hide in.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you swallow, sniffling slightly as you turn from the window to face Neil. He squeezed your hand, letting you know he was still there and he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I’m going to DC…”

You didn’t look up at him as you spoke, afraid you’d break if you looked into his eyes. His kindness and understanding swam in them, conveying his feelings so his words never had to. And they were your safe place.

His eyes were kaleidoscopes of colors. The light manipulated them beautifully, capturing each shade in its individuality and in their unity. They were gorgeous. They were home.

They could be the soft dirt, warm, comforting, and inviting – ready for something to hold. Or they were the grass or the trees, fields and forests of serenity and calmness – a place you could find peace. Or they were the sky or the ocean, two of the greatest expanses on earth – a place you felt in control and a place that showed you just how delicate you could be, a place you could relax and let go.

They were all of those things…

They were Neil.

You squeezed his hand, grounding yourself with the chill of his skin against the heat of yours. You took a deep breath, tracing the veins on the back of his hands to focus.

“You-you don’t have to come with me. This is last minute, and we just got home, but–”

“Star-light, I’m going with you. Whether it’s to be your support, your back up, or your alibi – I’m going.”

He knew that you weren’t asking his permission to go to DC, nor were you really asking him to go with you. But he was going. He wasn’t letting you go all the way across the country alone. He’d stay at the hotel or in the Airbnb if you wanted, but he was going to be within reach of you – that was non-negotiable. 

“I… This isn’t going to be some fun trip. I think you know why I’m going… So I want you to think about this.”

Neil didn’t need to know and he wasn’t going to ask questions, either. You would tell him why, probably were about to, before he interrupted you. And he could only assume it had to do with that video and your phone call with Sam. 

“I don’t need to. When it comes to you, to this, I’m going to be by your side. You want to face John, let him know that you know what he’s done and that he fucked up. I’m just gonna be there so you don’t get yourself hurt or in trouble.”

He squeezed your hand again, “I’m your partner, your wingman. I am here for you, whenever you need me.”

He watched your face carefully as he spoke, catching the quirk of the corners of your mouth before you sobered up and nodded.

“I’ll um… I’ll get the tickets after we get inside. They’ll be shitty, but they’re last minute…”

“As long as they’re next to each other, I don’t care.” 

And that was true. He didn’t care where you sat in the plane – just that you sat together. He wanted – no, he needed to be next to you. Being there for you is his priority right now.

You swallowed and nodded once more, caging his hand between yours.

“I will do my best.” 

He hated how quiet your voice was. It wasn’t a normal quiet. It was meek and powerless. You sound defeated and scared. 

You were none of those things. And seeing you this way broke his heart.

His free hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you toward him gently as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes closing as he tried to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could muster into it.

And it seemed to transfer.

Your shoulders relaxed as he felt your shaky exhale brush the skin of his neck.

His eyes stayed closed as he spoke against your skin, “I love you, Star-light.” 

You nodded against his lips, feeling comfort in your chest at the vibration of his low voice against your forehead. His voice was smooth with a slight rasp, similar to warm dark chocolate with a shot of whiskey mixed in – it was just… peaceful.

It took over the other voices that were shouting in your head. All it took was the low whisper of those four words to dampen the screaming. Those voices were still there, but Neil’s made its presence known, and that was enough to get them to back off a little.

“I love you too, Oma. So so much…”

Your voice was still soft, but there was a strength that returned to it. It sounded fuller, not as hollow as it had before.

Omaha wasn’t sure how long that would last, but he would take the win.

He pulled back after pressing another kiss to your forehead, and his hand moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Let’s go in. We need some sleep so we can get up and pack.” 

You nodded, inhaling deeply to ground yourself before exiting the safety of the Jeep.

Neil smiled softly at you, hoping to get you to smile back. And you did… But he knew that you’d done it out of reflex rather than because you felt like smiling.

You turned your head and kissed the palm of his hand, squeezing the one you were holding before you pulled away completely and got out of the Jeep. 

He sighed as your door shut, and he unbuckled himself, getting out to meet you at the front door.

After getting inside, you silently moved around the house. 

Both of you had already rinsed your legs and feet of sand and emptied your shoes before leaving, so you didn’t have to worry about that at all. So, you just quietly went to the kitchen and got your laptop before you walked towards your bedroom.

“Hey,” Neil said, gently catching your arm as you walked past him. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go to bed. Do you want-”

“I’ll shower after you. I want to make sure I get these tickets ordered, and that I can snag a decent flight time. I’m hoping there’s still some left for this morning.” Your voice was breathless, almost as if you had been holding your breath as you moved through the house. The words sounded rushed and rehearsed like you had been waiting for him to ask. Your mind was already set on showering separately.

All Omaha could do was nod. He could try to convince you to join him, tell you he’d wait for you to order the tickets – but your mind was made up. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

“You don’t have to. Take as long as you need.”

Something in your voice and the way your eyes looked down at where his hand gripped your bicep made his stomach feel heavy. 

You were reverting again. Going back to that corner he thought he had pulled you away from. Isolating yourself again when he was right there. 

He was right there. 

All you had to do was just let him sit with you. Or take his hand and let him pull you up. 

You would talk to him when you were ready. He knew that. But he didn’t like that you were trying to face this all on your own because you felt like you were alone. You weren’t. 

He was right there.

But he nodded, knowing if he pushed, you would back away or lash out like a scared and wounded animal. The opposite of what he wanted. “Alright…”

You gave him another closed-mouth smile and kissed his shoulder before settling in the bedroom.

He rubbed his face, a frustrated sigh left his lips before he shook his head to himself and went to the laundry room to toss two towels into the dryer before grabbing a clean one for himself.

Walking into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on top of the covers with your laptop on your desk tray as you bit your nails. He sighed sadly and walked over, grabbing a piece of gum from your vanity on the way. 

He moved your hand away from your mouth, his grip gentle on your wrist as he held out the gum to you.

No words needed to be exchanged, just a silent moment between you both before he left you alone on the bed to take his shower.

Neil stood under the stream, the hot water drenching his hair and running down his face. 

He avoided his music, knowing that it would do nothing to change his mood. He needed the silence – bask in the steam and the rhythmic beating of water on the titles around him. 

His head fell back, letting the water pelt him in the face as he took deep breaths. In front of him, his hands balled into fists when he inhaled and relaxed as he exhaled. 

Neil needed this. He needed this moment, to be alone and vulnerable behind the closed door – out of your sight. 

There was irony in it; he knew that. The irony when he ran off to hide in the safety of the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him break. Didn’t have to watch him replay every moment over and over in his head. You were going through enough, and he wasn’t about to let you see his hurt or his worry just yet. This wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to make it about him.

So, that’s why he was here, standing under the showerhead with his eyes closed, the events on the beach replayed behind his eyelids like a movie.

******

His stomach churned as he watched the video from over your shoulder. The pleads of the young man not going unheard. Then, the sickening crack of the shield being driven into his chest. He heard it again and again… and again. 

John Walker murdered someone. And the whole world saw it.

Rage drove up in his throat, slamming on the brakes and leaving a disgusting burnt taste on his tongue. 

It was almost a metallic taste, a morbid mimicry of the paused frame that lit up your features. 

Your expression seemed blank, shocked at the horrendous act. But your eyes told a different story. 

As they scanned over your phone screen, Neil could see the pain creep in. He watched them crack, breaking as they reflected the blood-stained shield.

Your nose twitched subtly as your lip quivered. He glanced at your hands, noticing how they shook slightly. He doubted that you noticed the tremor, just staring with unblinking eyes at your phone.

“Honey…” 

He wanted to get your attention but not startle you. Your fellow pilots began to stare, concern and pity etched on their faces. He needed to get you out of this, pull you away from the prying eyes and the inevitable questions they would bombard you with.

The squad would try to coddle you. Tip-toe around subjects to try not to make you cry. Or ask invasive questions that you weren’t ready to answer. They meant well, sure, but it wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make this situation better. Nothing would…

“Doll-”

You swallowed, your hands dropping to your sides as you excused yourself to trek up the sand wanting a moment alone. Your arm flexed as you had a death grip on your phone.

“Omaha, I didn’t-”

“I know, Garcia,” Neil mumbled as he turned to keep an eye on you, his back to the bonfire. “I know.”

He kept his eye on you as you talked on the phone, most likely with Sam or Bucky, as the others tried to continue on with the party. 

He watched your hands and your legs, noticing the near-perpetual bouncing of your left leg. 

Neil hated this. Hated just standing here, just being some witness to the damage John’s actions caused. His emotions were collateral damage, only worsening with each minute he watched you stand there in pain.

He couldn’t hear much, distant hissing and muffled sentences mostly. But then he heard you shout, your arm flying out to the side.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

His heart shattered. Even from this distance, he could hear how broken your voice was, how it was strained with unshed tears.

He felt his nose burn, sniffling on reflex as he rubbed it with his index finger. 

“Vikander? You alright?”

Omaha hummed absent-mindedly in response, not processing the question or the voice that asked it. 

“Neil, hey, are you okay?”

The hand on his shoulder pulled his attention from you, making him suck in a breath out of surprise. “What?”

Bob shot him a concerned look, “Are you okay? You looked like you zoned out for a second.” 

*****

His conversation with Bob is a blurry memory.

All he remembers is taking his eyes off you for what felt like a second to talk to Bob and take a sip of the water offered to him. By the time he turned back around to check on you, you had walked down to the shore.

He felt his stomach sink again as he remembered how your arms had been wrapped around your waist, how your shoulders moved up and down with your deep breaths. And how when he approached you, you scolded yourself for crying as you tried to subtly wipe at your tears.

You tried to lie and say you were fine, hiding your tears when he pushed you ever so slightly. You pushed back, dismissed your own feelings and held your hurt in. 

Neil’s tears mixed with the water running down his face.

But he didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care that he was crying over something he couldn’t fix. Something that was tearing you apart from the inside out, but you hid from him – hid from yourself. You were hurting, and it hurts him that you don’t think you can be vulnerable.

So, he didn’t care that he was crying because it was you – he loves you that much.

His shower was a little longer than normal, but he didn’t think you would really mind right now. 

He just went through his routine on autopilot as his mind wandered and raced, recapping the evening. He ended it with a cold shot, letting the freezing water cool his heated skin and hopefully soothe his aching heart.

Omaha got out and dried off, moving languidly as he kept zoning out.

He wasn’t sure what state he would find you in when he walked into the bedroom. That scared him. This whole situation scared him because he had no idea what to expect next. He didn’t know what you were going to do when you got to DC or when you saw John Walker. 

It all just made him uneasy. 

But he knew that he just had to trust you. Though he wasn’t going to abandon his concerns if he felt that something was dangerous. He’s your partner; your safety matters to him.

After he dried off and got dressed in his boxers and Navy shirt, he exited the bathroom as he ran the towel over his hair.

“You might want to give it a minute or two. Let the hot water replenish a little,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

He didn’t hear a response, so he looked up to catch the tail end of your nod. 

“I got the tickets order. Flight leaves at about ten in the morning,” you responded softly, picking at your lip as you looked at your computer screen. “Um, San Diego International is the airport. It’s the closest but we’ll need to get up earlier so we can pack.”

Neil tried not to sigh out loud at your subject change. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose; you were just trying to keep what you could in line and control whatever you could. He also knew the frustration in him wasn’t caused by you. 

He nodded and sat on your side of the bed, trying not to look at your computer screen knowing he would find articles about John on your screen.

“Baby,” he called softly, hoping you would look up at him. When you didn’t, he repeated the nickname: “Baby, please look at me.” 

When your eyes remained glued to your screen, he closed the laptop and grabbed your desk tray, moving it to your actual desk.

“Okay, no, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Neil-”

“No, Y/N,” he pushed, sitting in front of you. “You can’t do that because it is not going to help. You are just going to go further and further down a hole that I can’t pull you out of.”

He grabbed your hands, knowing that you would try to run away if he didn’t. “I get that you're frustrated. That you’re pissed off. I get it, baby. But reading articles that are full of more opinions than they are fact is not going to help you.”

You swallowed and looked at him, “People think he was justified…”

His heart shattered right then in his chest. Your defeated and tear-filled voice crashed into it, sending shards of his heart into his throat.

“How could they find murder justified? John had no right-” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him. 

He cupped your chin, turning your head back to look at him and moving his hand to your cheek when you did. “That man did not deserve to die. Flag Smasher or not, he did not deserve that. John had no right to kill him.”

“Nico…”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

Tears filled your eyes, your voice coming out in a soft whimper. “His name was Nico…”

“Sweetheart…”

“He was murdered… All because he wanted to help people. That’s all they want to do is help people, Neil.” Your voice cracked as he watched anger fill your eyes, “He left behind two sisters… Two girls who watched their brother get murdered. They got notified of his death through fucking social media. His murder is viral.” 

He stayed quiet, letting you go until you stopped yourself – willing to listen as long as you got your feelings out to him.

“Sure, the Flag Smashers methods aren’t ethical, and Karli hasn’t been a saint. But they’re the only ones actually willing to do anything to help those people. The GRC isn’t doing shit!”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was much he could say. 

You pulled your hand from his, rubbing your face harshly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That… I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

Neil shook his head immediately, resting his hand on your knee. “No, don’t apologize. You don’t have to bottle it up.” 

You gave him a weak smile, resting your hand on top of his. He smiled back at you reassuringly before he turned his palm up and kissed your hand.

You just sat like that for a moment. Your hand in his as the water rolled off his dark hair and onto the duvet, letting the silence settle between you for a moment.

“They think he’s justified because Lemar was killed during a fight… They see it as retribution for that,” you said softly after a few minutes while you played with his fingers. 

Omaha shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but you continued.

“It wasn’t even Nico that killed Lemar. Karli was…”

He squeezed your hand, “So then it’s not retribution. And one injustice does not fix another.” 

You shook your head, looking down at your joined hands. “It doesn’t…”

A tear hit Neil’s hand, making his heart break – again. But he didn’t make a huge scene. He didn’t point it out. All he did was reach out and gently wipe the tear from your cheek. “Why don’t you go shower, Star-light? The water pressure is nice, and it should all be warmed up now. I’ll heat up your towel and hair towel in the dryer. What do you want to wear to bed?”

You sniffled and leaned into his hand. “One of your oversized shirts and a pair of your boxers, please.” He nodded and kissed your forehead, “You got it, doll.”

“Thank you, Oma, really.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he squeezed your hand. “Just go take a shower, relax. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You nodded and gently pecked his lips, “I love you.” He kissed you back, “I love you too.”

Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to the bathroom, leaving Neil on the bed.

He sat on the bed and waited to hear you turn the shower on before he started moving around the room.

After grabbing the clothing items you asked for and his phone, he went to the laundry room.

He sighed heavily as he tossed the clothes in with the towels and started the dryer, hoping that they would be warm by the time you were done in the shower.

“Okay, now what to–”

Mid-sentence, Neil’s phone started ringing. He didn’t need to check the caller ID to know who it was.

“Hey Bob…” He answered, his voice flat to try and conceal the relief of someone to talk to.

“Hey, I was just calling to check-in. See how you both were holdin’ up.”

Neil sighed, his arm crossing over his chest as he leaned against the washing machine. “Honestly? Not great. I um… I caught her looking at articles.”

Bob inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone, “That’s not good…”

“No, no, it’s not… There are so many who agree with John’s actions and others that don’t. But they’re all just opinions. No one is going to know all the facts. They only know what they saw in that video. And what they saw was John murder someone with the shield in the middle of the town square.”

Omaha harshly ran his teeth over his bottom lip, “I don’t know what to do, Bob. She’s hurting, and she won’t talk to me. She’s said a few things, but the closest I got to her emotions was her voice… Then she fucking apologized for talking about it. What do I fucking do?”

“What you’re doing, Neil. Being there for her. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

“That’s not enough!”

“Neil, I know you’re angry…”

That was the understatement of the century. 

Neil was pissed. Someone hurt you. Someone’s careless and selfish actions have hurt you – again.

Someone has taken you from him. Their actions have caused you to internalize your feelings and put your guards up all over again. Making you hide from your safe places.

And that started a fire in him.

“I’m more than angry, Robert. She is hurting. She has to mourn the memory of her father after mourning him the first time!”

Neil tends to hold resentment towards the one that hurt you, Bob knew that. He still holds resentment towards your dad for what he did to you. No one will get away with trying to smother out his Star-light.

And now John was at the top of his list. 

“Walker had no right to murder that man – even if he were to be the one to kill Lemar. Retribution or not, it’s still fucking murder. And John won’t get away with this.”

Neil couldn’t give less of a fuck if he was Captain America or not. John wasn’t getting away with hurting you or disrespecting something that held so much meaning for you.

Bob sighed again, most likely putting his glasses on his head to rub his eyes. “Omaha, you know she won’t want you to get involved in this… She’s keeping things to herself for a reason. And while you don’t like it, she’s protecting you and herself by doing that.”

“I just want to be there for her. I want her to come to me so she doesn’t face this on her own,” Neil’s voice cracked as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I want to be her safe place again…”

“That is never going to change, Neil. Never. You will always be her safe place. And she knows that when she is ready, she can run to you, and you’ll be there with open arms. She just needs to process this on her own… give her time.”

Neil nodded, wiping his eyes harshly as he tried to regain his own composure. 

“Your feelings are justified, Neil. You are allowed to be upset, too. So don’t think that you being scared or upset about her closing herself is selfish or anything, because it’s not.”

Omaha couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader, Bob?”

“Well, Nick Fury’s not on my doorstep, so I’m gonna stick with no,” Bob laughed.

A beat of silence passed before Neil spoke up.

“Hey, we’re leaving for DC tomorrow morning. Do you think you could go grab my Jeep from the airport and bring it back to the house? Y/N can leave her spare key somewhere for you. And maybe just look after the house since you're only a few houses down?”

“Of course, I can do that for you.”

“Thanks, man.” Neil sighed and looked back toward the bedroom. “I better get going. Calm myself down before she gets out of the shower.”

“Alright, good luck. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

Both hung up, and Neil wiped his face before going back to the bedroom to wait for you to get out of the shower.

You sighed as you tossed and turned in your bed, your body becoming restless the moment you thought you were comfortable. You thought the shower would’ve calmed you down, but the stress was eating at your nerves and making your stomach churn constantly. 

The anxiety was making you feel hot, your already naturally high body temperature rising as your mind ran at a million miles a minute.

Huffing, you threw the cover off of you and got out of bed. 

Your feet drug as you took yourself to the kitchen. 

You got a glass of ice water before going to the living room and sitting in the corner of the couch. 

Sleep wasn’t coming to you anytime soon, not with all the thoughts running through your mind… So you sat on the couch and looked out of your sliding glass doors at the moonlit backyard.

Your eyes felt heavy with tears. They were tears of frustration and anger. Tears of heartbreak. It was all so much, and being left alone with your thoughts was probably the worst situation you could have put yourself in. But you couldn’t go anywhere or talk to anyone about this. They wouldn’t understand anyway. 

Tears weighed down your lash line, blurring your vision as you zoned out completely. They slowly overflowed, breaking the surface tension and tracking down your face.

But you weren’t crying. 

No. Crying involved you actually feeling something, and right now… numbness was overtaking it all. Pushing everything from the last few hours into one blurry mess of static.

You didn’t have time to cry… you had a mission to complete.

The next morning, Neil woke up to see you moving around the room and packing bags for both of you.

He glanced over and checked the time, seeing just how early it was, “What time did you get up?” You didn’t look up from what you were doing as you answered him, “Didn’t sleep.” 

“Star-light…” 

“Oma, I’m fine. If I need to sleep, I’ll sleep,” you said, still shoving things into your bags.

You didn’t need sleep. Sleep was the furthest down on your list of needs. What you really needed was to get on a plane and get to DC so you could confront the hurricane of emotions that were swirling through your being.

You needed to release the fermenting anger and frustration; it was poisoning you, and you knew it. But you were too damn stubborn, wanting to hold it in and take it out on the true cause of it.

Dumping it all on Omaha or your friends wasn’t fair, not in your eyes. It wasn’t justice in them either. John wasn’t going to miss your wrath. He’d been on your radar since he took up the mantle, and now you were trying to get a missile lock.

That was justice.

Neil sighed and got out of bed, ruffling his hair as he walked over to you. “I know you’re a super soldier, but you’re not invincible. Your body can only handle so much. You need to sleep.” He wrapped his arms around you, “I just-”

“Neil, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you huffed, leaning on the duffels in front of you. 

“I know, and I’m not trying to get you to talk about it. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready. But I’m not just gonna abandon my duties as your boyfriend. I’m still gonna make sure you take care of yourself because I love you.”

You sighed and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, “I know… I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple, “Don’t apologize. You’re going through a lot. But I’m gonna make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Sniffling a little, you rest your hands on top of his. “Thank you, honey… I just–”

You were cut off by your phone ringing. 

You huffed again and went over to pick it up. “Hello?... No comment.” You hung up and shoved your phone into your sweatpants pocket. 

“That was fast,” Neil pointed out as he started packing whatever was left.

Rubbing your forehead, you sat on the bed as you sighed, “Yeah, that is the… fifth? Maybe the sixth reporter to call me for a statement on all of this. I can’t turn my phone off, so I just answer and say, ‘no comment’. This has been going on since 4 this morning.” You felt your phone go off with a short ring in your pocket. 

Neil opened his mouth to say something but you held a hand up, “Don’t get me started on the emails.”

He just nodded with a playful smile and continued to pack.

You both sat in silence for a little bit, but Omaha broke it when he noticed you were fidgeting.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’re a little more fidgety than you usually are…” 

Last night, as you evaded sleep, it occurred to you that Neil had no idea that John was a super soldier. You hadn’t told him that very important detail last night. It didn’t change your mind, but keeping your boyfriend in the dark about that wasn't fair.

You swallowed, playing with the worn cuffs of your hoodie, “There’s um…” You scratched your brow, “I didn’t tell you everything last night…” 

He stopped packing and came over to stand in front of you, “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me–” 

“No, this,” you nodded as you kept your head down, looking at your lap. “This I need to tell you…” 

“Doll, you’re worrying me… what’s wrong?” 

You looked up at him, swallowing your nerves before speaking, “John took the serum… he’s a super soldier now.” 

Neil’s eyes widened as he took a few steps back, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“I’m sorry?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were up as he tilted his head, but he wasn’t really asking.

He let out a dry chuckle, “Did you just say that John Walker, the man you’re about to fly to DC to confront, was a um… was a super soldier? Or-or am I hearing things? I really, really hope that’s not what you just said.”

“You heard right… John took the serum,” you played with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

Neil put his hands on his hips and nodded, “Okay…” He wiped his mouth before pressing his lips into a thin line and rolling them between his teeth. 

He took in a deep breath through his nose, attempting to keep his voice steady as emotion began to rise in his throat. He knew his hands would start shaking at any minute, so his voice couldn’t break or waiver and ruin how serious he was.

“You knew… You knew, and you were still gonna confront him? At probably the most emotionally unstable point in his life! Are you insane?!”

You winced a little and rubbed your face as he started to pace back and forth. “Oma-” “Were you even gonna tell me?” Neil cursed himself for the breathy, almost dejected tone that began to work its way into his voice. 

You looked up, desperation for understanding in your eyes. “Yes but-”

“When? Before or after you got yourself killed?”

You stood up, frustrated that he wasn’t letting you explain yourself, “I can handle myself, Neil.” 

“It’s not about that Y/N! It’s about whether or not John is capable of murder! And as we learned last night, he absolutely is!” 

You scoffed and put your hands on your hips, pointing an accusatory finger at your boyfriend, “You just don’t think that I can do it! You don’t think I can handle this, do you?” 

He stayed silent, his brown eyes avoiding you as he tongued his cheek.

Your heart dropped to your feet, and your hands fell limp at your sides. “You actually don’t think I can do this…”

He hung his head, “This is dangerous, Y/N. John isn’t just some dickhead with a shield anymore… He’s angry, and I’m sure whatever the council has to say to him can’t be good.” 

In a flash, your anger resurfaced. “A shield? A shield?! It’s more than just ‘a shield’, Neil! It’s THE shield! The shield my father earned! The shield that was made for him! For HIM! Not John! My dad worked for that shield, he earned it! John was handed the shield! So don’t just call it ‘a shield’ because it is so much more than that! And you know that!”

Neil flinched a little at your volume, not expecting you to react that way, but not shocked by it either. “You’re right, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”

Finally, he met your eyes, and you could see the emotion swirling in them. “I’m scared…” 

You swallowed and stayed silent, your anger smothering out as your expression softened.

“An-and I get that confronting him is the best way for you to get your feelings and emotions out… But we know what John is capable of. We know that he can and will kill someone with the slightest bit of provoking. You are going to be his antagonist, and that scares the shit out of me.”

“I can handle John, Neil…” You protested quietly, still hurt by the fact he thought you couldn’t. 

He sighed and rubbed your arms before tilting your head up. “It’s not that I don’t think you can. You’re quite literally the strongest person I know. But I’m scared, Y/N, and I’m not apologizing for being worried for your safety. I just need you to be safe.” 

You sniffled, “I’m not changing my mind… I can’t let him slip by, thinking that I don’t know what he did. He has to know-” You looked away as emotion clogged your throat. “He has to know, Neil. He has to know that I know.”

He gently turned your head back to face him, “I know. And I’m not asking you to change your mind. The bastard deserves to see the pain he caused. All I’m asking is that you’re careful and you really think about your approach. I love you too much to keep in my concerns.” 

You nodded before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. I love you so much.” You pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll try my best to be careful. But I can’t make you a promise…” He nodded, “That’s all I ask.” 

Omaha pecked your lips, “C’mon, we got a flight to catch.”

how do you even describe this...

other than just pain and anger.

star is kicking herself more than she probably should be and omaha is just trying to keep her as safe as he can...

but how will confronting walker turn out?

hi guys! i just want to thank you again for your incredible patience. i can not and will not promise you when the next part will be up and ready to go. but i will be working on it to get it out to you guys 💙

lt rogers tags <33 (i apologize if i missed anyone if i did please remind me in the comments):

@milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @twsssmlmaa

@malindacath @startrekfangirl2233 @indigodaydream @that-one-random-writer @hangmansgbaby

@nikkipea @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yourlocalloser-core @mimi-8793 @scalesarenotbalanced

@carnationworld @bethabear12

[sapphosclown]

just watched But I’m a Cheerleader for the first time and ngl just spent the whole movie imagining a lynthia fic

[starlit-seadragon]

Day 25 - Perpetuity

In which the young Estelle de Borel, daughter of the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords and Lord Commander of Ishgard, and the esteemed Warrior of Light and Lady de Borel, jumps off a roof.

CW: panic attack, abandonment trauma, uhhhh adoption? Ishgard sure is A Place.

Submitting unfinished for the deadline but I would like to finish it sjdjffnfjfhf

My FFXIV Write Masterpost here.

When she was first born, Elouan had thought his baby sister perfect.

Round button nose with a single scale on the bridge, dark and wispy curls, hands so small that even his thumb was larger than her fist.

Four years later, the only thing he thought perfect about her was how perfect a brat she was.

"Estelle," he hissed in the loudest whisper he could manage, "get off the damned roof!"

Far above, his baby sister gasped. “El said a bad word! Bad El! Stel will tell Mama and Papa!”

"You're one to talk," he grumbled under his breath. He was a son of House Borel; he was not going to argue with a toddler.

"Estelle," Elouan tried again. "Please. Before you get hurt. I will come up there if I must."

He was not quite sure how he would accomplish this—he was not even sure how Estelle had managed it—but he knew that keeping his word was important, and regardless, he intended to try.

He just wished that it had not been the top of the manor that she had chosen to perch and that he were not out in the middle of the godsforsaken street, where anyone passing by could witness them.

Ere she had left, his aunt had promised to return shortly. “Not even a full bell,” she had said. She had forgotten something essential to dinner, and the trip to the Jeweled Crozier was a quick one. Elouan had acquiesced, saying he would keep an eye on Estelle, thinking it could not be very difficult. She was, after all, still so small. What mischief could a child of four get up to that a boy of twelve could not handle?

Evidently, a great deal.

She was gone in the blink of an eye. Elouan had been studying, looking into his book for but a moment. And then it was suddenly too quiet, and Estelle was gone. If not for her coat, hastily abandoned outside the manor walls, Elouan might never have known where to find her.

His sister gave no response. Was she hurt, or just ignoring him? Gritting his teeth, Elouan looked around. He had to get onto that roof.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approaching, and his shoulders sagged with relief. Aunt Homura was back, and she could help him. Everything would be okay.

He did a double-take, and his blood turned to ice.

“M-mother!”

Lady de Borel stopped beside him. A leather sack hung off her shoulder.

“Elouan?” she asked, brow knit. “What are you doing outside?”

He scrambled for an answer but could find none, mouth flapping like that of a fish. He couldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t. No matter what it cost him.

His mother looked down at the ground, gaze falling on Estelle's shed coat. Elouan froze. His mother looked upwards, towards the roof of the manor. Her mouth set into a firm line, eyes hardening. Elouan swallowed.”

This was it. This was the end. He was dead. She knew now that he could not be trusted, that he had let little Estelle run wild and put herself in danger.

“Elouan,” she began, voice flinty. “Where is your Aunt Homura?”

“Th-the Jeweled Crozier. She said... she said she'd be right back.”

“I see.”

Elouan tried to memorize the outside of the manor. He would carry the image of it with him to the Fury’s hallowed halls.

“Play along,” his mother whispered before pitching her voice loudly towards the roof. “Elouan, my light! I am so happy to see you!”

He stared at her. She nodded her head towards the roof. Confused, he replied in the same volume, “As I am you, Mother.”

A startled gasp of “Mama!” came from above.

“Have you seen your sister?” his mother asked. “I have gifts for you both, and I should so like to present them together.”

Heart sinking, Elouan looked to the ground. Was she truly going to make him admit his failure like a mummer in a play? The cruelty seemed unlike her.

Before he could answer, however, a voice rang out from the roof.

“Dum da dummm! Behol! Stel, the Azoor Dragon!” shouted Estelle. With a branch in hand, she struck a pose.

“Estelle, my star, what are you doing up there? And without your coat?”

Estelle slumped.

“Mama,” she whined, “Dragons need no coats!”

“Estelle.” Their mother’s voice was firmer now. “You know you cannot go out without a coat.”

“Stel did go with coat! Then took it off.”

Their mother paused. Irritation creased her features for but a moment, and then called, “Estelle? Pray wait there. I’ll be right up to get you.”

“Dragons need no coats!” Estelle repeated. “And dragons need no help to fly!”

She backed away from the edge.

Elouan felt his pulse gallop.

She wouldn’t.

“Estelle?” their mother called hoarsely. Frantic, she looked around for a way up.

Estelle leapt from the rooftop.

Heart in his throat, Elouan brought his hands to his mouth. He was worse than dead, he would be disowned. Everything, gone in an instant, and he would be sent back—

Miraculously, a pair of leathery blue wings sprouted from his baby sister’s back. Instead of falling, she glided gently downwards, landing in their mother’s outstretched arms. The wings detached, revealing themselves to be those of a cobalt dragonet’s.

The creature chortled. “We'll make a dragon of you yet, little one!”

Estelle squealed in delight.

“Kal Myhk,” greeted their mother with a tight smile. “Pray remember that man ages by year and not by experience. I would ask to to refrain from aiding my daughter in flight until she is much older.”

The little dragonet seemed to consider this, then looped backwards through the air.

“Far be it from me to disrespect a mother’s wishes. My apologies, Shirayume. Know that I would have let no ill befall her.”

“I know, Kal Myhk. Thank you.”

Just then, another figure approached them, bag in hand and waving brightly.

“Oh, Nami, you’re home early! Hi!”

Elouan’s aunt Homura took in the scene before her: the three Borels standing outside, the dragonet hovering nearby, Estelle’s shed coat, and the tight grip their mother held onto Estelle’s waist. The smile fell from Aunt Homura’s lips.

Flatly, and with a light blush, she said, “Oh... Estelle got onto the roof again, didn’t she.”

Their mother went so still that Elouan flinched.

“Again?” Her tone was frost incarnate. Aunt Homura withered under his mother’s countenance. Elouan couldn’t blame her.

An argument followed in quick, quiet Doman. While Elouan had been learning his mother’s native tongue, they spoke too quickly for him to follow. He caught only snippets, words that sounded like “irresponsible” and “send home.”

Dread crept over him. They really were going to send him back.

Elouan could not help himself; he ran. He ran past the front door, up the stairs, and into his room, tears falling in his wake. Upon the soft down of his bed, he wept, grieving all he was to lose. A roof over his head. A warm, dry place to sleep. Hot, regular meals. A loving mother and father. Estelle.

“Elouan?” a voice called into his—well, what would no longer be his—room. He looked up through bleary eyes.

“Lady de Borel,” he croaked. He rubbed his eyes. The tears could not be hidden, but he could at least look a little more presentable. Though it mattered little, he thought glumly. “Is your daughter well?”

His former mother looked at him strangely.

“Estelle is with Aunt Hilda.”

“Aunt Hilda is here?”

Good, he could say goodbye to her, too, then.

“Fortunately,” she answered, syllables clipped. Her features returned to that strange puzzlement. “Elouan, is something the matter?”

He could not meet her gaze. “No, my lady.”

“Then why the formality? You haven't spoken to me so since—” She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. Alarmed, she stared at him. “Elouan, you can't possibly think—”

“I'm sorry, my lady, for failing you. This was a happy home for me, while it lasted.” His voice broke on the last few words. He hated that weakness. Tears welled in his eyes, and he blinked them furiously away.

Lady de Borel knelt before him, voice a whisper. “Elouan... failing me in what?”

“I did not protect your trueborn daughter.”

Finally, he looked into her eyes. She met his determined stare with soft, shimmering pain.

“Elouan, my light. You have failed no one, and even had you, you would not be going anywhere. You are not going anywhere. This is your home.”

“B-but I—” He could not stop the tears. “I messed up.”

“You did nothing of the sort,” she told him as she ran a hand through his hair.

“P-papa always says I must watch out for Estelle.”

"Because you are the eldest, sweetling. Not because she has greater import. You are both our children.”

He let himself fall into her arms then and weep. She held him tightly, whispering words of comfort and rubbing small circles against his back. The thought of losing this sent him into wracking sobs all over again.

He had no idea how long they stood like that, but Elouan only knew he was happy to be home.

[stellerssong]

Swan I promise I'll get caught up on your fanwork soon. Soon as I actually watch these overdue DVDs of The Watchman😉. In the meantime consider this an invitation to do a director's commentary from back when Will Graham was a bird?

please enjoy your viewing of the watchman! don't quote me on this, but i hear he (the eponymous watchman) was in a comic book once...really make u thimk.

oh god okay umm...how do i put this politely for the good people in the audience who have not been following me since 2013. so. ok. so i've long maintained that turning a character into a bird monster is one of the truest forms of love i am capable of expressing. "but swan!" you say, shocked and horrified, "surely you mean turning a character into a WEREWOLF is one of the truest forms of love you are capable of expressing! you have a whole thing about werewolves! it's an expanded universe with hinted crossovers! there's internal logic and now a magic system! you have spilled literally thousands of words that are No Plot Just Describing Midcycle Werewolves and you KEEP THREATENING TO DO THAT MORE." and like. you're not wrong strictly speaking. and i do inflict that aggressively upon my favorite characters. but there is something particularly monstery about the bird monster that a werewolf just doesn't get at.

it's the uncanny valley of it all, you dig? a werewolf is, when you get down to it, a wolf whose instincts are fettered to a human perception of the world—hence, functionally, a dog. a very large, gross, dangerous, infectious dog, in some cases—a dog with hands and fucked-up people teeth, frequently—but it's fundamentally the emotional tension of the dog that i'm working with here, right? the sit and stay and will i get a pat or a kick of things, the what is a pack and what are they owed of it, the animal caught in a little box with the human and the realization of how little space there is between those two things. which is all lovely delicious good food for me, personally, and of course i am capable of making something tangibly offputting out of those compelling pieces.

but the bird monster is a different game. that's a different part of the uncanny valley, and i hesitate to call it a more physical part, but the physicality IS part of it. a bird has warm blood, like you or like me (with apologies to any reptiles, amphibians, ectothermic fish, etc. reading this). it breathes air. it's often social and intelligent. it has a voice—more importantly, it makes music. we connect with these qualities, as fellow warm-blooded social tetrapods. we think, oh, this is a familiar creature, this is a creature i can easily empathize with (again, apologies to those reading this who, like me, are thrown into a tearful cute-aggression frenzy over the japanese giant salamander).

but a bird feels different from a human in a way that a dog doesn't. it's got feathers. it's got hollow bones. it's got an expressionless face and eyes that don't convey the same warmth as a dog's or a wolf's or even a cat's. there are tame birds and domesticated birds, yes, but in general there's not the same cultural sense of the bird as companion animal that smooths the way (or burdens) the dog or the wolf-as-dog.

and it flies. that's fuckin' different.

so it's a different tension there. where the werewolf's sense of alienation stems from the uneasy knowledge that there's gray area between wolf and dog and human, the bird monster's deal is a more classic disjoint. a human is not like a bird. these two things are (or feel) more diametrically opposed. and yet in the bird monster they exist within a single body anyway. the human in you is content to travel in two dimensions. the bird in you understands that there's a whole lot more world if you just look up. the human in you needs the solidity of earth underfoot and the comforting anchor of gravity. the bird in you knows those things for chains and cages in disguise. the human in you tastes blood and grimaces, gags, spits and screams and weeps. the bird in you swallows, expressionless, and sings.

ok so then imagine if it was will graham,,,

[bullshit-bulltrue]

I NEED AN AU OF WESPER IN GREASE BECAUSE YES

FOR THOSE WHO DONT KNOW, GREASE IS A MUSICAL

WYLAN AS SANDY AND JESPER AS DANNY

edit: please tag me if someone writes it cus i would LOVE to read it<3

[jaegerisim]

Eremika Grease AU

[sadlynotthevoid]

Do you know that Danny Phantom fic where some Agents of the GIW help Danny and turns out that not all the GIW was bad, just some of them? And then the good Agents sort of adopt Danny and help him with ghost stuff and human stuff?

Well, I want a bnha version of it pleeease.

Just some branch of the HPSC finding out some of the dark stuff that other part does and planning their ruin (AKA getting them fired and in jail), cue a big internal fight between both sides and a third (not really) secret side that isn't supporting anyone, just waiting to see the winner.

And when I say fight, I mean that it started like a "we're playing human chess and plotting each other's end" but at some point someone throwed a punch and then it developed into a big fight, except half of them have pretty standard office jobs and the other half are bodyguards, quirk/body trainers, and people with strong fighting skills. So a part of them is in a pro-hero level battle, and the other is having a highschool level food fight.

The new president of the HPSC ends being this lady that was stepping on the old president at the end of the fight and was rising her arm with a fork in her hand.

[ivyprism]

The Mafia Skeleton Sisters' Diner AU: Rewrite (Info Dump)

Warning: This contains violence mentioned, murder implied, death implied, torture, mafia crimes, etc.

Basilisk - Skeleton Dragon

Personality: Basilisk is the leader of the Seven Serpent Mafia. She's the boss, and she's really strict. She is pleasant, even merciful, but she is determined to enforce mafia law. Before getting down to work, she ensures that she has solid contact with each mob and poses as an average citizen/member. Her ways are both feared and revered. Because she can see when someone is about to betray her, she disguises herself as a valued friend before attacking. She is reserved and quiet, although she appears to be pleasant and polite. She is not one to back off in serious situations.

Appearance: She is a skeletal dragon. She can turn into a large skeleton dragon at will. In her skeleton form, she has a scar on her eyes and cold green eyes. She's 5'4".

Shiva - Skeleton Dragon

Personality: Shiva is a member of the Seven Serpents but not the Seven Serpents. She is the mafia's doctor. She displays little enthusiasm in taking an active role in the lifestyle. However, she excels as a spy and may be extremely crafty. She's powerful, strong, and not to be messed with. She may be a doctor, but she is not defenseless. She decided to be faithful to her sisters. She never backs down during disagreements, and she is quite adept at creating and selling her medicine without a valid license, despite the fact that she is fully capable and skilled at it.

Appearance: She is a skeleton dragon. She has a large skeletal dragon form. As a skeleton, she has blue eyes. She is 6'1".

Scarlette - Demon Fire Elemental OC

Personality: Scarlette is the Fourth Serpent and the most intelligent of them all. She is clever, and like her sister, she lures her victim into believing they are safe before attacking. Scarlette, unlike her sister, loves to use her eagle eye and godlike aim to eliminate their prey. Scarlette, a sniper, adores her cute younger sister. She dislikes leaving a mess, so she prefers rapid ways to eliminate targets. She is a little flirty and has many nicknames for individuals. She is a big tease, and she will tease you until you die if she wants to. She's only icy and immobile at work, or twice as flirty. She isn't really interested in romance.

Appearance: She is a deep magenta fire monster. She burns a bit more than normal fire elementals since she is a demonic fire elemental. She has horns and a tail that seems to be made of flames. She is a bit muscular and big. She is 6'0".

Syrene (Inferno) - Demon Fire Elemental OC

Personality: Syrene is the Third Serpent and certainly one of the most powerful. Syrene normally introduces herself as "Inferno," but after she realizes you're an ally of her mafia, she tells you her real identity. She lures and manipulates her targets into a false sense of security. She attacks quickly and disappears, leaving no evidence of her presence. She is quite flirty and polite. She can act like a feral cat at times so making friends with her takes time. Despite her attitude, her bite is more vicious than her bark. She is incredibly captivating and is sometimes referred to as "Siren". Surprisingly, she is an unidentified Mafia member.

Appearance: She is a deep magenta fire monster. She burns a bit more than normal fire elementals since she is a demonic fire elemental. She has horns and a tail that seems to be made of flames. She is 6'5".

Nebula - Bird Monster

Personality: Nebula is the Fifth Serpent, a "dirty" royal guard who protects her sister and the mafia from trouble. She is the one who convinces the cops that it was not the Seven Serpents, but another mafia. She is constantly on the lookout for the group. She adores her profession and has learnt how to imitate others. She is often very forgiving, yet she is sometimes extremely aggressive and protective. She is a dynamic and popular woman who rapidly advances through the ranks. When dealing with others, she turns on the charm. She is highly patient and skilled at battling.

Appearance: She is a bird monster. She has dull blue feathers and she adorns herself with beautiful things. She is 5'0".

Peach - Bird Monster

Personality: Peach, the second Serpent, isn't as sweet as her name implies. Peach is Baskilisk's right-hand gal. When speaking with others, she is rude and chilly. She dislikes getting dirty and frequently cleans up after one of the Mafia bosses they're attempting to persuade to work with them makes a mess. She is very careful about what she does. She is chilly and aloof, and she is often rude and distrustful of people who speak to her if they're her enemy. She is not afraid to intimidate and frighten strangers with one of her weapons or a magical performance. With people she considers friends, she simply displays a more relaxed and happy personality.

Appearance: She is a bird monster. She has dull orange feathers and she adorns herself in beautiful things. She is 6'7". She has three large scars on her beak and she wears a mask.

Naenia - Skeleton Dragon OC

Personality: Naenia is rough, ferocious, and frigid. She does not hesitate when it comes to fighting. She is the Sixth Serpent, and she refuses to back away from a fight. She is typically pleasant and calm with allies and strangers, but her targets are met with her more hostile and harsh personality. She is one of the most powerful, but she is bad at leading, so she must cope with the unpleasant aspects of the position. When she kills someone, she ensures that everyone gets the message. She ensures that it is both dirty and clear. When you get to know her, you'll notice she's really patient and kind.

Appearance: She is a skeletal dragon. She can turn into a large skeleton dragon at will. She is a skeleton monster with green eyes. She has a scar on her left eye. She is 6'4". She has a tail. She is blind in her left eye. She has a slew of jagged scars on her face. She has two prominent scars on her eyes, three scars on her lip (as if she had been slapped with claws), and one on her right eye.

Manea - Skeleton Dragon OC

Personality: Manea is a very kind and forgiving person, but don't mistake her forgiveness with pacifism. She is the Seventh Serpent of the Mafia. She takes great care when it comes to handling and cleaning things up. She strives to make each death as short and painless as possible. She is, however, not afraid to utilize more forceful techniques to bring someone down. She never backs down in a fight, unless she is forced to. She is quick on her feet and fast. She helps her sister clean and is scared of displaying her darker side. She is cold, quiet, and distant, but she is also gentle and kind-hearted to some degree.

Appearance: She is a skeletal dragon. She can turn into a large skeleton dragon at will. She is a skeleton monster at about 7'1" in height. She has blue eye-light. She has a tail that reaches her ankles and freckles on her bones. Most of the time, she is shown wearing a face mask. She has large fangs and teeth. She has a large scar on her right eye.

-------

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Marigold

"Woah.." Lily gasps softly, her footsteps against the metal floor as quiet as they could.

A large open room, circle in design, with blue-tinted steel lining the walls. The hums of soft white lights illuminated, and in the center was a tank, containing..

"Diana!" Lily gasps, rushing forward and placing her hands on the glass. The rest follow her, all gaping at the giant siren.

"Lily?" The siren of storms places a giant hand on the glass. "It's really you.."

"Yeah." She smiles. "I.. woke up a while ago." She shakes her head. "Uh, let's just focus on getting you back."

YEMRU flutters around. "It appears there's a control panel. If we examine it, perhaps we can release you, Diana."

"Beep bap!"

Girlfriend purses her lips. "Boyfriend is right. This has been way too easy."

Lily hesitates. "It has. But.. what else can we do? We need to take what we can get."

Miku points a finger to her and them YEMRU. "We'll focus on getting that control panel, you guys-"

"Will not be doing anything."

While the rest of the group turns around in confusion, which quickly turns to fear, Lily feels anger bubble in her at that familiar voice.

She whips around, clenching her teeth. "You."

There stands Marcy. It's hard to forget someone who was constantly trying to get her Uncle Bob to return home. Though what's interesting was that Marcy's cloak 2as now red, and she lacked her normal bandana. Thorn embroidery was apparent on it, and green lined the cloak's edges.

The blade Marcy was pointing at them lowered for a moment. "Wait. You're that girl, Lily."

"Damn right." She hisses. "I should have known you'd be working with Lady Rose." She glances around. There was nothing for her to fight with. Girlfriend could probably take on Marcy, but that's if Marcy was willing to play fair.

"I don't have a choice. This is for Bob's sake."

"You always said that, didn't you?!" She snaps. "I can't imagine how he feels right now, seeing you work with Lady Rose!"

As the two argue, Miku and YEMRU quickly sneak off to the control panel. Boyfriend and Girlfriend made a point to get in front of Lily, eyes narrowed at her. Though Boyfriend was clearly on more edge, watching Marcy warily.

As the argument continues, Miku glances up towards one of the screens, and her faces goes white.

"We've gotta go." She glances at YEMRU before pointing at the screen.

YEMRU's eyes follow her finger, and his shape turns to a triangle. His voice hushes. "We cannot let Lily see that."

Miku nods, and her eyes turn to another screen. She scans over jt, quickly, before she lurches forward and slams her hand down on a nearby button, then pulled a lever.

Alarms blare, and the walls to the tank fall. Water spills out, and the floor beneath them begins to part. A giant pipe is underneath, gray in color.

"No!" Marcy shouts, dashing towards Lily. "I will not let you get away, not when bringing you to her will bring him back!"

Boyfriend, acting quickly, spun out his microphone and blocked her blade. He grits his teeth. "Bap bop!"

"What does that even mean?" Marcy huffs, jumping back.

Being free, Diana shifts to a larger form and bares sharp teeth at Marcy. In a sweeping motion, she grabs the group and merely says, "hold your breath."

As the Garo lunges to try and grab Lily, her eyes flick upwards, to where more of Lady Rose's goons begin to run in.

Her heart sinks at seeing a red cloak like Marcy's before her vision is obscured by the walls of the pipe.

○●○

"Tsk tsk."

A red cloaked figure marches back Marcy, and she trembles with barely contained rage. A sword presses down on the button, and the alarms stop. The figure doesn't pull up lever, instead leaving the floor parted to expose the pipe.

"One job, and you failed."

She narrows her eyes as she tries to not lash out. Across from her stood Bob, but she knew it wasn't him in control of his body. Ghostly white vines cover his body like rope, and over his right eye was bird's-foot trefoil, a flower Lady Rose was all too happy to explain one of the meanings of. His eye was a vibrant red, like the Lady's cloak.

"The very least you can do is tell me who it was that broke in." Her brother's head shakes.

"That girl, Lily." Marcy speaks quickly. "She had others with her."

Bob's body jolts, and she swears for a moment that he glares at her, as if angered that she'd say that. Then, his body returns to its normal puppet state.

"Well, well, well! Isn't that a good bit of news." Lady Rose's voice dwarfs Bob's. "Very good, very good."

The body of her brother leaps over the edge, but not before pulling down the lever, turning the floor to normal. "You and Bob will begin looking for her, effective tomorrow."

"Why not just go down the pipe?" Marcy argues.

"You'd get lost or die." The Lady just sounds indifferent, like she couldn't care less. "I believe our discussion is done."

With that, Marcy watches as her brother's body ascends the stairs.

○●•

Lily sits on the rocks, vaguely listening as Diana and Joe Boopkins discuss something. (It was a relief that the sea still held him. That was one more useful ally.

Her mind was still racing. Was that her uncle? Had he really joined Lady Rose? No, he couldn't have. His anger over the whole mess let her know he wasn't happy.

"Lily." Diana's gentle voice snaps her out of it.

She looks up from her spot. The moon shines down on the sand of the beach.

Diana swims forward, and she presents a smaller version of her trident. "I trust you with my trident until this is all over." Lily gapes as she gingerly takes it. "It will listen to you until you return it to me. You are its user now."

"Thank you." She whispers.

"You're welcome."

○●○

Lady Rose hums as she retreats from Bob's mind. Leaning back in her chair, a cruel grin spreads on her face. She leans forward and presses a communicator on her desk.

A minute passes, and it answers.

"Yes, Rose?"

"Mr L!" She chuckles. "I hope you're on speaker because I have some news regarding a certain little songbird that I'm sure your captives would love to hear."

It's quiet before the man speaks again, and she can practically hear his grin. "Oh, do go on."

Lady Rose smiles. What a good day, this was.