#oc: echoes of chiming winds

[kapturkaptur]

assignment

uncropped version under the cut

[overrboarrd]

sanctuary [1]: initium novum

firefighter!roman reigns x azure clarke [oc]

warnings: bodily injury, slight cussing, mentions of a hospital

word count: 3.3k

a/n: we made it to chapter one! just a smooth little chapter to kick things off. pls forgive any medical errors in this chapter, i did research to the best of my ability. but anyways, i hope yall like it! happy reading <3

The mid-morning sun cast a golden hue over the winding suburban streets as Azure maneuvered her car down the narrow lane, the weight of her life packed in boxes behind her. The soft hum of the engine barely registered over the pounding in her chest as she approached her new house in Pensacola. 

She hadn’t told many people she was moving. And only her parents and her best friend, Jade, knew why. It wasn’t as if she could explain it easily. She didn’t even know if it was the right decision. All she knew was that the three years since her husband’s death had felt like drowning, and she was desperate for air. So she had left the life they had built together—left the house that was filled with echoes of their love, the memories of his laugh, the phantom touch of his hand on her skin—and driven away.

A new start. That’s what she needed. No ghosts here.

Her house was tucked in the back of a quiet neighborhood, isolated enough to provide peace but not so far removed that she’d feel entirely alone. As she pulled into the driveway, Azure cut the engine and sat for a moment, taking in the sight before her. The house was modest, a one-story home with a decently-sized porch and a yard that needed a little attention, but it was hers. Or it would be once she stepped out of the car and claimed it.

She didn’t move.

Not yet.

Instead, she let her gaze drift to the rearview mirror to look across the street, where another house stood. It was slightly larger than hers, and there were a couple of cars parked in front of it. Two men, tall, tattooed and muscular, stood on the front lawn, laughing over something while a little girl, no more than five years old, ran in circles all over the grass. A woman stood not too far from them, with a contagiously warm smile and beautiful deep brown complexion. 

Azure smiled faintly. She had always loved children. Being a pediatric nurse had brought her comfort over the years, a way to focus on helping others instead of drowning in her own grief. Maybe in this new place, she could find some semblance of herself again.

 A sudden vibration pulled her from her thoughts. Her phone screen lit up with a slightly graying man holding the 2-year-old version of herself, the name ‘Pops’ with a blue heart emoji sat at the top of the screen. Azure smiled, pressing the answer button.

“What’s goin’ on Tink?” Her father’s deep voice came through the line, warm and reassuring. “You all settled in yet?”

“Hey Pops,” she said, leaning back in the seat and closing her eyes for a moment, chuckling softly at the sound of her nickname before exhaling slowly. “Almost. I checked out of the hotel earlier this morning and grabbed most of my stuff from the storage place. I’m sitting in my car trying to muster the energy to take all these boxes.”

“Y’know, I would’ve been down there in a heartbeat to help if it wasn’t for this damn knee.” Her father’s voice was filled with regret, though she could hear the slight humor behind it. Eric had always been a man of action, being an Air Force veteran, and being stuck in recovery after knee surgery was a particular kind of torture for him.

“I know,” Azure said, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s okay. I got this. You need to focus on getting better.”

“Well, I’ve got a new knee now, so I’m basically a bionic man,” he joked. “Once I’m fully up and runnin’, you won’t be able to keep me away.”

In the background, she could hear her mom, Anne, laughing.

“Bionic man? Chile, please,” her mom’s voice chimed in. “You’re more like the Tin Man from The Wiz, creaky joints and all. Next thing you know, you’ll need a can of oil just to get out the damn bed.”

“A ki-ki,” her dad replied, mockingly. “I might be old, but m’still quicker than you give me credit for.”

Azure laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in her chest. She could always count on her parents to make her feel better, no matter how much weight she was carrying. And right now, it felt like a mountain.

“How’s Ma doing?” Azure asked, knowing her mom could hear her.

“Surviving this old man, baby.” Anne called from the background, teasing as always. “Barely.”

“Be nice to him now,” Azure said, smiling as she imagined her mom giving her dad a playful shove. “You know you’d be lost without him.”

“Lost? I’d be free,” her mom shot back, chuckling.

“Sure you would,” her dad said dryly. “Anyway, you all settled in then?“

“Yeah, everything’s here. Might go out and grab a few more things later on.” Azure replied, leaning her head against the headrest, watching a couple of kids riding their bikes down the street. The neighborhood was peaceful, quiet. It was almost surreal how different it felt from her old life. “It’s a nice area, though. Feels... safe.”

Eric paused on the line, and Azure could sense what was coming next.

“You sure you’re okay? I mean... all this moving, leaving your job, your friends—it’s a big change. You don’t have to do it all alone, y’know?”

She bit her lip, grateful for his concern but also not wanting to get into the emotions she had been avoiding since making the decision to move. “I’m okay Pops. Really. It’s just... time. Time for something new. I think I need this.”

“I get it,” he said softly. “And you know your momma and I are just a phone call away if you ever need anything.”

“I know.” Azure’s voice caught slightly, but she cleared her throat. “I’ll call you guys later. Give Ma a hug for me.”

“I will. We love you baby .”

“Love y’all too.”

She ended the call and placed her phone in her lap, staring at the house again. Her new life, or at least the next chapter of it, was waiting behind that door. She just wasn’t quite ready to face it yet.

A gust of warm wind brushed against her face as she stepped out of the car, stretching her arms before looking up and down the street. Large trees lined the sidewalk and a variety of plants scattered across front lawns. It was so different from the city bustle she was used to. Azure tugged at the hem of her tank top, adjusting her sunglasses atop her head before taking a deep breath and heading towards the open trunk of her car. She began to place a few of the boxes on the ground, stacking them high enough to where she could carry them. She did her best to try to push the button that would close the trunk, before hearing a bit of commotion coming from across the street. 

“Go over there, you see her struggling!”

“Ow! Damn!”

“A’ight, a’ight! We goin’!” 

“Stop cussing in front of Audrey, Jey!” 

“Mmcht, that’s not even a bad word!”

Just as she managed to finally close her trunk, two men emerged from across the street with nervous yet easy-going smiles. They were dressed casually, both in basketball shorts and t-shirts, clearly enjoying the holiday weekend. The man, with two long cornrows and a wide grin, waved cheerfully. "You must be the new neighbor."

Azure forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as awkward as it felt before setting the boxes on the concrete. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Jimmy,” he said, extending his hand. “And this is my brother, Jey.” The other brother, with a freshly shaped up mullet, and his twin from what she saw, gave her a small wave before continuing to soothe the side of his arm. “We live across the street... well, technically, our cousin lives there.”

 “As much as we over there that might as well be our house too.” Jey adds. “We just watching our lil’ cousin while he’s on call today.” 

Azure’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Firefighter.” 

“Yeah, you’ll see him runnin’ up and down the street with his shirt off, flexin’ his muscles eventually,” Jimmy joked, nudging Jey, who laughed along.

“Aye, speak for yourself,” Jey teased. “Uce is way too serious now for all that.” Before Azure could respond, Jimmy leaned against her car with an easy smile. “Need help with your boxes? My wife saw you strugglin’ over here.” He nodded his head towards the front yard where the woman and little girl continued to play. “We could help unload your stuff, we got some muscle.” He continued, slapping Jey’s arm in the same reddened spot Naomi had smacked him in earlier. 

Azure blinked, taken aback by their sudden friendliness. “Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Nah, we insist,” Jey said, waving off her protest and playfully raising his hand at his brother. “We already out here, and you look like you got a lot of boxes.”

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, looks like you in for a long weekend. Plus you'll get to meet more people if you not buried under a mountain of cardboard.”

Azure laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. It had been so long since she’d laughed with anyone besides her family, and for a moment, the tightness in her chest loosened. “Okay, fine. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate the help.”

Jey clapped his hands before rubbing them together. “Yessir! Let’s get to it!”

She watched as Jimmy jogged across the street to say something to his wife before returning next to Azure’s car trunk. The twins grabbed the heaviest boxes and followed behind her as she unlocked her front door, holding it open as they stepped through. 

“You can just sit them down in here.” She pointed to the bare living room floor. 

They obliged, and the trio spent the next thirty minutes carrying Azure’s things into the house. As they hauled the last box inside, Azure took a moment and looked around. Her new home was still bare, with unpacked boxes scattered everywhere, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

“Thanks so much, you guys,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Jimmy replied. “We know how it is, moving to a new place and all. Speakin’ of which—” He exchanged a glance with Jey, who smiled before turning back to Azure. “We’re havin’ a uh, small get together for Labor Day in a few days, before the kids gotta go back to school. You should come. Meet some more folks.”

“Yeah,” Jey added. “And I’m grilling. Best steaks you’ll ever have in your entire life.”

Azure hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll think about it. I’ve got a lot to get through with the move, but I’ll see if I can make it.”

“No pressure,” Jimmy said with a grin. “Just good food, good people, maybe a couple of bad jokes from baby bro here.”

“Nah, that’s all you, Uce,” Jey chimed in, shaking his head, laughing. “The rest of us are hilarious.”

Azure laughed, feeling some of the earlier tension in her chest loosen. It had been a long time since she’d been around anyone who didn’t know her story, her loss. The weight of it usually hung in the air, but with these two, it was easy—light.

“Thanks for the invite. I’ll try to stop by,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No problem,” Jey replied. “And seriously, if you need help, just holla at ya uce!”

They exchanged goodbyes, and as Jimmy and Jey headed back across the street, Azure found herself watching them. The little girl, Audrey, ran to greet them, her small arms wrapped around Jimmy’s leg. Azure smiled again, the sight tugging at something deep inside her. She missed that kind of innocence, the unguarded joy children had.

She sighed, stepping back inside her house, the quiet suddenly pressing in around her again.

The move had been a good distraction, but the moment the door closed, the familiar pang of loss crept in. The weight she carried was never truly gone, even in new surroundings. She could feel it in the silence of the empty house.

But maybe this new place, this new life, could be different.

Maybe.

She removed her sunglasses from her head before putting her curly hair in a low bun, thinking of the cookout invitation. The idea of meeting new people was intimidating, but also strangely comforting.

She exhaled slowly. It was time to unpack, in more ways than one.

The emergency room was buzzing with activity, the usual rush of nurses, doctors, and paramedics filling the air with an almost palpable energy. The sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air, a constant reminder that Azure was in a place of healing, yet one brimming with urgency. Azure stood beside Bianca, the lead nurse who was guiding her through her first few weeks at the hospital. Though she had worked at other medical facilities, Central Pensacola Children’s Hospital felt different. Everything was new—new routines, new people, and new expectations. The weight of her personal loss was something she carried, but the chaos of the ER was an easy distraction. She’d been a pediatric nurse for nearly five years, and while each day brought its own challenges, today felt different—more charged, somehow. Maybe it was the change of scenery, or maybe it was the lingering weight from the night before. Either way, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in her chest.

She glanced at her watch, noting that it had only been three hours into her shift, but it already felt like a long day. Just as Azure was about to take a breather, the familiar sound of an ambulance pulling up to the emergency entrance flooded her ears. Instinctively she straightened, refocusing her attention. Moments later, the doors swung open, and a team of paramedics rushed in, wheeling a stretcher with a little boy whose cries echoed through the hallway.

Azure felt something shift in the air as another man entered the room. His presence was powerful—he carried himself with a quiet, commanding energy, but understated—like a steady flame that didn’t need to burn brightly to be felt. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with long dark hair that was pulled back yet slightly tousled.

Bianca nudged Azure forward as they moved towards the patient. "That’s our guy," Bianca muttered softly, not bothering to hide the slight admiration in her voice. "Roman Reigns. One of the best firefighters in the city. Always brings them in safe."

Azure took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, but as she approached the gurney, her eyes inadvertently met Roman’s.

Roman’s gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than she’d expected before he shifted back to the child. "Possible broken arm. Fell off the jungle gym at the park," Roman explained, his voice deep and steady. He had done this countless times, and yet there was something almost gentle in the way he spoke about the boy’s injury. "He’s been in a lot of pain, but he’s stable."

Azure nodded, moving to the boy’s side. "Hey there, little man." she said softly to the boy, who looked up at her with watery eyes. "We’re gonna get you all fixed up, okay?"

The boy gave a small, hesitant nod, still clutching his arm. Azure reached out carefully, making sure not to touch the injured area, and offered him a reassuring smile. Definitely a broken arm. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to send the boy into a fit of tears. Meanwhile, she could feel Roman’s eyes on her, watching her interact with the patient. It was strange—the way she felt under his gaze—not uncomfortable, just very noticeable.

As she stepped aside to let Bianca take over, Roman moved closer to Azure, close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of him. His voice was low when he spoke, almost like a murmur just for her. "You’re new here."

It wasn’t a question, just an observation. Azure glanced up at him, her heart skipping inexplicably. "Yeah," she replied, doing her best to keep her voice even. "Just started a couple weeks ago."

Roman nodded slowly, his eyes studying her for a moment longer before he shifted his attention back to the boy. "You did good with him," he said, his tone softer, almost approving. And then, as quickly as it began, the moment passed. He gave a short nod toward Bianca, who was now checking the boy’s vitals, and walked away from the gurney.

Azure busied herself with the task at hand, helping the little boy get settled in the examination room. But even as she worked, she was acutely aware of the man outside. She didn’t know why, but something about him tugged at her, a pull she couldn’t quite explain.

Minutes later, as she stepped out into the hallway to grab a few supplies, she found herself face to face with him. He was just leaving, handing off paperwork to the desk.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Everything okay with the kid?”

Azure nodded, suddenly feeling an odd flutter in her chest. “Yeah, just a broken arm. He’s a little scared, but he’ll be fine.”

Roman nodded, glancing back towards the room briefly. “Glad to hear it.” He paused, as if considering whether or not to say more. 

He opted against it, and as he walked away, Azure found herself standing there, staring after him for a moment before heading back to find Bianca. She didn’t know him—didn’t know anything about him—but something about the way he’d looked at her, the way he carried himself with a mix of strength and humility. She shook her head, pushing away the strange feeling that had taken root in her chest, but the pull lingered, deep in the back of her mind, refusing to let her go.

Bianca approached her as the boy was wheeled to X-ray, giving Azure a sly smile. "You’ve got good instincts," she said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "And good job keeping him calm. You're doing great, girl."

Azure smiled, appreciating the praise. "Thanks, Bianca."

Just as they began to walk back to the station, Dr. Rollins, the lead pediatric doctor, approached them. He gave Bianca a brief nod before turning his attention to Azure. "Nice work today, Azure. I know things have been pretty fast-paced the past couple of weeks, but you’ve handled it well."

"Thank you, Dr. Rollins," Azure replied, her voice steady, though her mind was still on Roman’s fleeting but intense presence.

Bianca nudged her again, playfully this time. "Looks like you’ve caught some attention already," she teased as they walked toward the nurse’s station.

Azure gave a light laugh, shaking her head. "It’s nothing like that."

"Mhm, sure," Bianca grinned knowingly. "But, hey, I’m just saying… Dr. Rollins's not the easiest person to impress. If he noticed you, it’s something."

Azure forced a smile but didn’t respond. As they walked away from the trauma bay, Azure couldn't shake the anxious feeling of this new beginning.

———

Dear Brother, I hope this letter finds you well as always,  I know it’s been a while, I’ve been real busy lately. I met someone recently, and I don’t know what it is, but… there’s just something that I can’t shake. There’s this… feeling, maybe a good feeling? I don’t know. It's throwing me off. Haven’t felt it before. It’s hard to explain, but it’s not something I can just brush off. I’m not sure where this will go, but I’ll write to you once I know more. I miss you. I think about you often, especially when things get tough. It feels strange sometimes, like I’m starting this new chapter on my own, but knowing you’re out there somewhere, helps me feel less alone. I love you, I’ll make time to write to you sooner. I promise.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨

warning: blood, fighting, injuries, drinking.

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Nyx’s pov:

"Again", his voice sounded unfamiliar to him. He had flinched at it after the concept of time had started slipping. For a split moment, Nyx thought that it was his high lord who had spoken. That had caused him a solid punch to the jaw. The boy in front of him looked Nyx over worriedly, as his stance shifted. “You’re in or you're out? I won’t wait forever”, Nyx snarled, leaping forward. Once again, he didn’t remember when they had abandoned their swords. But he preferred it like that. Close and personal. Physical.

Another blow landed against his nose, and Nyx's head flew back. He was well aware that on his good days, the poor chap wouldn’t have landed any of the punches at all. He got close only because Nyx let him. "Enough," an annoyed voice sounded from behind him. A welcome destination for the boy in front of Nyx. It was good enough for princes’s cracked knuckles to meet the target. “Flying fuck," a rough palm gripped Nyx’s shoulder, “You are the most stupid...", a growl. Nyx tried to open his left eye, one that was now too puffed up and throbbed like a bitch. “I suggest you bugger off before I make sure that you’re eating dirt for the rest of the week," Axel’s deep growl echoed, making Nyx chuckle lightly. “Man, he asked for it", the guy lifted his palms in defiance. “And if he told you to jump from the cliff, would you do it?", the boy shrugged, only making Axel let out yet another frustrated sigh, and the other Illyrian took it as his chance to leave.

“You will make a wonderful advisor in the future," Nyx skittered. “I think I will have your ass six feet under before that could even happen," Axel grumbled, pulling at his friend’s arms and trying to help him up. “I left you for a fucking hour, Nyx," he huffed, draping Nyx’s arm over his shoulders. "Yeah, I missed you. I had to settle for a fight with an idiot”. Nyx huffed. “Do I need to remind you that you have an important high-lord party to attend soon?"—that was one of the reads Nyx had let his rails loose. He hoped that if he misbehaved badly enough and looked like a walking corpse when the day chimed, he could wiggle his ass out of it. The thought alone made him want to bend over and vomit. He wasn’t built to be a prince. He didn’t want it. It wasn’t him. Wasn’t the life he envisioned for himself.

“You’ve been acting like an absolute fool ever since we came back from Velaris; what has gotten into you?", Axel kicked the door to their cabin before guiding Nyx toward his bed. Your sister happened to me, he thought, but bit his tongue. “I just wanted to fight," Nyx growled instead. Only now did he feel how badly his body hurt. That fucker had landed more blows than Nyx had initially counted. “I know you, and this ain’t you. You can talk to me. We always talk about it”, Axel shoved Nyx’s hand away from his face before dragging a warm cloth over the swollen eye. And what would he tell him? I can't get your fucking sister out of my head. Do you know why we cannot see each other for a bit? Why is she even pulling away? Nyx grunted, pulling the cloth out of Axel’s hands.

“Why don’t you start by telling me who you’ve been running around with instead?”. It was low. Axel had a right to have a life outside of being Nyx’s right-hand man. And his love life didn’t need to be accounted for. But Nyx was so angry. Angry at everything and everyone. People constantly kept him in the dark. And then threw a bucket of news in his face while expecting him to receive it with open hands. “I ain’t running around with anybody," Axel shook his head, throwing a jar of salve Nyx’s way. But the scowl on the young prince’s face only deepened, “So, Piper doesn’t ring a bell?”. And bingo. Axel’s whole body got ridged. Did Nyx have no right to go and dig into the new arrival papers? Probably. But here they were. “Keep her name out of your fucking mouth," Axel pointed a warning finger at him, clearly not finding this one bit amusing. “And you stand here giving me lectures about sharing things," Nyx chuckled, “So why aren’t you talking, friend?" Axel shook his head, “Clean yourself up and sober up while you’re at it." He moved towards the door, and something in Nyx shifted. Axel never left. Not even when Nyx was in his shittest of moods. He had always been the only one to not leave him. Sit through his temper tantrums. "Axel," Nyx breathed, panic rising in his chest. He didn’t want to be alone right now. His head was too busy. He was too full of things he didn’t want to think of. “I’m only going to grab you some fresh water; lay down you twat," Axel grumbled back, easing the rising tide within Nyx. He nodded simply, slumping back on the mattress. His hand instantly moved beneath his pillow, where he always kept a stitched napkin that Zofie had given him. The crooked moon and stars greeted him like they always did. The stick figures holding hands. The flowers. Even the wonky sun on the far left side was perfect. Always perfect. “I’m thinking about you," Nyx muttered, brushing his fingers over the stick figure that was supposed to represent Zofie, “It’s one never-ending night over here without you, Sunny."

Zofie’s pov:

It’s only been a week, but it felt like forever. She never usually felt so desperate when they left. At least not after the first week. But she had grown restless. The cry that left Nyx’s lips as he shot up to the sky was still ringing loud and clear. Zofie heard it even through her hammering heartbeat. With her back pressed against the door, as she covered her mouth. And now it felt as if she hadn’t seen Nyx in a lifetime. It clawed at her. She knew that Axel would look after him, but... What if something happened, and that’s how they would have separated?

Zofie didn’t know what she was feeling. It all seemed too mushy and jumbled up. Now, instead of seeing a different aura around people, she simply saw black. It was impossible to distinguish between different feelings.

“Zo, do you want more pancakes?", her father’s voice made her almost drop her fork as she nodded. Azriel gave her a concerned look before plopping one of his signature breakfast goods onto her plate. “You excited to see the girls?", he asked, throwing a glance your way, only earning a slight shrug in return. “Yeah, am… It will be nice”, even if she didn’t want to see anyone. Well, maybe Piper. Axel had said that she was one of the nice girls. One Zofie could get to know if only she chose to.

“Ah, yes. You’ll be able to show them around; you can even go down to the market in the city," you chimed in, “and buy something nice or show them the good spots." But Zofie didn’t want to do that. Most spots had been hers and Nyx’s. They felt too personal to just be handed out. The same pinch in her chest made the hallow darkness spread even more. Her brows knitted as she pushed the plate further away from her. “You didn’t like it?", Azriel stopped mid-bite, almost making Zofie feel guilty. Almost. “Just not hungry," she shrugged, getting up from the table. She caught a glimpse of worry in her father’s eyes as she moved towards the stairs. The way you had reached out to squeeze his hand. And while Zofie didn’t want to keep you two in the dark, she didn’t know how to explain the emptiness inside her.

Just the fresh air and change of scenery didn’t help. It was nice to see her aunts and introduce herself to Piper, but socializing was never her thing. Nyx did most of the talking when they were out in public. He was born for that. It baffled her how quickly he managed to come up with a snarky remark as if he stored them all within his brain with special labels for just the right moment. Zofie tried to suffocate thoughts of him. Tried. But failed miserably. Everything she did or thought of was always in one way or another related to him. The thing was that she didn’t want to leave him like that. She didn't want to make him upset, but she also didn’t know how to make everyone happy. So, until she could come up with a solution, it would have to be like that.

“In my opinion, he is so much more attractive," one of the girls giggled into her palms. Attractive? How long has Zofie been out of this conversation? They were talking about the market day the last time she listened. “Well, Piper is the one who got to talk to him," the brow haired girl nudged the poor Piper, who had practically curled into herself by now, “Is he really hot up close?”.

Zofie shook her head. “Who’s hot?", she cut in, making all four sets of eyes dart up to her. And now she realized why she hated speaking in the first place. “Piper here had the prince’s second man carry her boxes”, Lina’s blond curls bobbed as she turned. But that was Axel? Why was Axel even here in the first place? He told her they could... Of course, he had met her. “Well, that’s my brother, so can we not talk weirdly about him?", Zofie scrunched up her nose, making the other two girls roll their eyes. But at least Piper’s shoulders sagged in relief. "Bore," the copycat next to Lina chirped. Zofie just couldn’t remember her name.

“We sure can talk about the prince himself," Lina smirked, and something snapped deep within Zofie, “There’s nothing to talk about." Suddenly, the prospect of having girls her age seemed like the worst idea ever. “As if... I’m determined to meet him," Lina said. The green mist rose in Zofie’s vision. “Gonna swoon him off his feet; heard he’s a proper flirt two," she elbowed her double ganger as they both chuckled.

“He will not fall for your shit," Zofie bit back, not even realizing that her hands were now firmly clenched by angry fists. “And how would you know that?", Lina fluffed her lashes. How did she know? She didn’t. Lina was pretty; you couldn’t take that from her. From the hair to her lean body. She was the embodiment of how any girl wanted to look. While Zofie… “He is my friend," she muttered, biting out the nagging thoughts. Lina chuckled, “Yeah, a friend. So, clearly, if you’re not girlfriend material, I will be."

It felt as if a bomb had exploded all around her. Vision glazing over. She saw nothing. Only Lina. She heard no one. Only Lina. And surprisingly, the girl wasn’t smiling. She looked petrified. Grasping at her throat. It felt static. As if the time had come to a halt. And then someone yanked her back. Pulling Zofie away from the neatly placed picnic blanket.

"Zofie", it sounded muffled, but her eyes did follow the sound. Only to be met with Feyre’s concerned ones. She blinked a couple of times. The fuzzy feeling cleared out. “She’s insane," a shriek sounded from behind her, making Zofie twist back. “You are dangerous, you stupid..." it was Lina, her cheeks still red, eyes wide. “Don’t finish that sentence," Cassian was gripping her shoulder, but he didn’t look too concerned with the girl. His eyes were on Zofie.

Zofie blinks a couple of times, black spots dancing in the corners of her vision. What had she done? Was it even her? Why did she... “Why don’t we go drink some tea, dear?", Feyre wrapped a hand around her shoulders. "I...", Zofie barely muttered before Feyre cut in, “Some tea with lots of honey, yes, yes." A part of Zofie wanted to run. Like she always did. Run away and hide. But Feyre pushed some of hair behind her ear, “We’ll have a nice conversation you and I”, she muttered almost ti herself, “Bake cookies even. Cookies always help”.

Nyx’s pov:

“Give me that," Axel said, snatching the glass out of Nyx’s hand, “You’ve been here for an hour." An hour too long. The hustle of the people was making Nyx sick. It was bad enough that he had to stand for the majority of that hour next to his parents, smiling as if he was thrilled to be there while he was slowly dying inside. Nyx kept dead-eye contact with Axel through it all, even if there was a sea of females who were trying to catch his eyes.

“I still think that you should cover for me so I can sneak out," Nyx grumbled. He had made at least five escape plans; he even planned to fake an allergic reaction, but Axel hadn’t been as thrilled about that. “Midnight. We had a deal”, Axel muttered, scanning the crowd. He was Nyx’s hawk, noting slipped past Axel. And as much as Nyx hated to admit it, Azriel was the one who had taught him all of it. “But you’ll dance with half of the girls in that line," Nyx nodded towards the girls who hadn’t stopped staring at him ever since the night began. “They ain’t her for me, kitten," Axel mused, making Nyx roll his eyes. “I’ll put a good word out for you," the prince said with a tap on his friend’s shoulder.

“Is your family coming?", Nyx scanned the crowd for familiar face. Well, correction. Is Zofie coming? He had tried to sneak back to Velaris before all this. He had to because his brain was going into overdrive. It had been eleven days, eighteen hours, forty-seven minutes, and 45... 46 seconds till he had laid eyes on her. And by now, he was more than okay with just catching a glimpse. He could do with that. He would settle for that. “Papa should," Axel said calmly, “Ma’ wasn’t feeling too well, so she’s back at the cottage." Translation: Zofie didn’t want to go, so Y/N stayed back with her. Nyx clenched his jaw. “Everyone’s healthy and well?", he was fishing for straws here, and he knew it. “Yeah, it’s all well; little one is growing too fast, though. Could have sworn she fit in my palm before we left," Axel muttered, and a part of Nyx was glad that he hadn’t caught onto his real intentions.

“Here you are”, a strong palm landed on Nyx’s shoulder, making the boy look to the side. His smug father stood there, way too happy with himself. “High Lord," Axel said, lowering his head in greeting, even though Nyx had specifically told him to not kiss his father with flatly. “You two are hiding in the back as if this is a funeral," Rhys shook his head with a smile, “Come up to the front tables; quite a couple of people are looking for you." Nyx’s eye twitched. If only he could scream now. He was convinced all the windows would shatter. He wanted out. Why was no one catching onto the fact that he was suffocating? He didn’t want to be a part of his father’s plans. He didn’t want to be a perfect son. A one-day-crowned prince.

Nyx was sure that Rhys could see the malice burning through his eyes, considering that his face went dead serious. Nyx knew that his father would stomp his foot, and he would have to do it. Or that pleading look on his mother’s face would claw at his heart till he gave in. He felt Axel’s hand on his shoulder blade. He was spiraling then. His magic was flaring up and Axel was warning him like he always did. Nyx was about to open his mouth when his eye caught movement behind his father. His eyes narrowed. Vision sharpening, and then it all died down.

The ringing in his ears faded. The choking feeling subsided. “Nyx, I am talking to you," Rhys said, gripping his upper hand, but Nyx shook it off as he stepped forward. Smile tugging at his lips. She was a vision. There might have been hundreds of females here tonight. Wrapped in the most expensive silks and velvet. But he hadn’t given them a second glance. And now she stood there at the top of the staircase. Looking over the hall. Nyx only hoped that she was looking for him.

And then her gaze found his. As if he had brought it right back to him. As if in a sea of bodies, she knew where he would be. And then she smiled. And Nyx was convinced that someone had spiked the wine because she shouldn’t be smiling. He moved faster, his hands gripping the railing as he jogged up the stairs. He missed every other step as he went. Was it appropriate? No. Was he making a spectacle considering that they were right above everyone and had nowhere to blend in? Yes. But did he care? No. Because even with twenty stairs separating them, she was too far away, and at the same time, she was in front of him way too quickly, leaving him no time to pick through his thoughts.

“You came?", Nyx breathed heavily. Zofie crossed her arms over her chest, looking him up and down. "I had a feeling you were struggling to get through this," she said casually, “Axel said that your sassiness has been off lately." Nyx wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at this point as he stepped closer to her, shielding her tiny frame from any curious glances. "Sunny," he muttered, ready to watch her fade away the same way she always did in his dreams.

“Your hands are trembling," she breathed, reaching out for his palms, “Why are your hands trembling?" Her worried eyes looked up at him, and he was ready to sink to his knees in front of her. “I… I am nervous”, he muttered like a teenager, looking at his first-ever crush. “You never get nervous around me," Zofie frowned, shaking her head. And then there was one heartbeat. One. Nyx’s left hand reached behind her as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up in his embrace.

He was shivering all over. But all the systems in his body that had been flashing red for days now were finally running smoothly. It felt as if he could finally breathe. That lavender sugar scent that she carried drowned him in her. “We need to get out of here," Nyx breathed again, her hair neatly braided with daisies. “I didn’t spend an hour lacing this for nothing," Zofie muttered, pulling back from his embrace. Both of their eyes fall onto the deep purple and black bodice. A vision. Nyx reached for her hand. “I’ll appreciate the hell out of it for you, Zof; I will," he muttered, dragging her towards the double-sided door. He heard gasps as he moved. Pretty sure he even heard his name being called. Pret sure he heard footsteps. But the moment he was out in the cold night air, he wrapped his arms around Zofie once more. Bringing her as close as he possibly could before shooting up at the sky and winnowing halfway through the plush clouds. Now that he had gotten his sun back, not even the devil himself was strong enough to take her away.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi i @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 3900

warnings/notes: blood, murder, pain

Chapter 6 :Transform

The deafening growl of a powerful motorcycle engine shattered the serene stillness of the forest as Austin deftly maneuvered through the winding dirt path. The bright beam of his bike's headlight cut through the thick darkness, illuminating the way to the clearing where his pack had gathered. As he approached, the warm, flickering glow of a roaring bonfire came into view, casting dancing shadows on the faces of his fellow werewolves. The rich scent of burning wood mixed with their excited chatter and laughter that echoed through the night. Despite their boisterous revelry, Austin couldn't shake off the turmoil brewing inside him as he prepared for the impending hunt with his pack.

With a graceful movement, he swung his jean-clad leg over the sleek black motorcycle. The leather of his jacket creaked with the motion, an audible announcement of his arrival. His boots, scuffed and worn from countless rides, crunched on the forest floor, adding to the natural symphony of rustling leaves and chirping birds. Austin's piercing blue eyes scanned the scene before him—the wolves of his pack were gathered around the crackling fire, their silhouettes flickering in the dancing flames. Some tossed back cold beers, while others engaged in playful tussles, honing their instincts for the impending hunt. The scent of pine and wood smoke hung heavy in the air, creating a primal atmosphere that heightened their senses.

"Big night, boss," one of them called out, slapping Austin on the shoulder with a grin that was all teeth and wild excitement.

"Let's make it a good one," another chimed in, raising a flask in salute.

"Every night's a good night when there's prey to be had," Austin replied, his voice steady but edged with something darker than the thrill of the hunt.

Amidst the deafening cheers of his pack, Austin's mind wandered to the lone figure he had left behind in the protective shelter. Bonnie, with her delicate features and inner strength, was about to undergo her first transformation, a bone-shattering experience that every werewolf must endure. His thoughts were consumed by the image of her expressive eyes, usually brimming with empathy, now widened in fearful anticipation. A pang of guilt struck his heart as he reveled in the primal joy of the full moon, knowing she was struggling alone with the beast within her.

The fire crackled, its flames twisting and dancing like a mesmerizing show. The sparks swirled up into the night sky, a mocking mimicry of the storm raging within him. He should be there, with her, guiding her through the painful transformation as her body contorted and reshaped itself. But his duty as leader demanded his presence here, among his brothers and sisters of the blood, enforcing unity and strength.

"Something on your mind, Austin?" a deep voice inquired, dragging him from his reverie.

"Nothing that won't wait until after the hunt," he lied smoothly, locking away his concern in a chamber of his heart that had long since learned to prioritize duty over desire.

The pack paid no heed to the brief flicker of conflict in their leader's gaze; they were too consumed by the frenzied anticipation of the upcoming feast. As the full moon ascended, its luminous glow casting a silver sheen over the revelers, Austin felt his skin begin to tingle with the familiar pull of transformation. It was almost time. Soon, he would join them, running through the dense forest, their howls echoing off the trees and filling the night air with an electric energy. The scent of prey lingered on their tongues, intensifying their hunger and driving their primal instincts forward. Austin felt a surge of excitement and adrenaline course through his body as he prepared to embrace his wolf form and partake in the savage hunt with his pack.

Yet even as he prepared to embrace the wolf within, to shed his human worries with his skin, Austin knew this night would be different. He would not lose himself completely to the wildness, not yet. Instead, he would watch and wait, biding his time until the perfect moment presented itself. And when it did, he would slip through the trees with all the grace and quietness of a ghost, eager to return to Bonnie's side once again.

"Stay sharp," he murmured under his breath, a silent promise to the woman who held the biggest piece of his fiercely guarded soul. "I'm coming."

A thin stream of smoke twisted into the air as Austin drew back on his cigarette, a small, burning ember in the darkness.

"Hey," Jerry rumbled, sidling up next to Victor with a nod toward Austin. "Keep your eyes on the boss tonight. He's off, more than usual."

Victor followed Jerry's gaze, studying the way Austin held himself – tall and unyielding, yet undeniably distracted. A knowing smirk crept across Victor's lips. "Sure thing, Jerry. I've got him covered."

With a swift stomp of his boot, Austin extinguished the last embers of his cigarette and strode forward, wielding an air of authority that came naturally after years of leading his brethren. His low, commanding voice cut through the crackling flames of the fire, carrying with it a smooth and unwavering tone that demanded attention.

"Brothers! Sisters!" He spread his arms wide, an orator ready to inspire his troops. "Tonight, we run beneath the full moon's grace. We revel in the freedom it grants us, the power it fuels within our veins!"

The wolves hollered their approval, some throwing their heads back in anticipation, others pounding their chests with clenched fists.

"Let's make this hunt one for the ages," he continued, a steely edge creeping into his words. "I want to see the forest shake with our might, to hear the earth groan under the weight of our conquest."

"YEAH!" they roared, the sound rolling through the trees like thunder.

"Unleash the beast," Austin declared, his voice rising to a crescendo. "And let there be carnage!"

The pack erupted into a wild frenzy of excitement, their howls and cheers piercing the night and echoing through the trees. Their eyes were ablaze with hunger, eager for the promise of bloodshed and triumphant victory. Austin watched them with an inscrutable expression, his gaze drawn to the primal energy radiating from his fellow hunters. The anticipation of the hunt filled the air like a tangible force, urging them all forward towards the inevitable clash of fang and claw.

Amidst the clamor and thrall of his pack, Austin stood stoic, a statue among the restless. The full moon loomed overhead, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow upon the gathering. As the lunar crescendo neared, he could feel the ancient magic coursing through his veins, a siren call to the beast within.

"Any second now," he murmured under his breath, eyes scanning the perimeter of their woodland cathedral. He knew the transformation would grip him as well, but it also offered a fleeting chance—a diversion that might allow him to escape unnoticed.

In the cacophony of growls and cheers, his mind spun a quiet web of strategy. "Bonnie," he whispered, her name an anchor in the tumultuous sea of his duties. "I have to get back to her before—"

"Before what, Austin?" Jerry's voice cut through his reverie, a blade poised with suspicion.

"Before we lose ourselves completely to the night." Austin's answer was smooth, practiced, yet a bead of sweat betrayed his cool facade. His intense gaze locked on Jerry for a moment, a silent duel that ended with a curt nod from his second-in-command.

"Good," Jerry grunted, turning his attention back to the pack as muscles began to tense, bones to creak and shift.

As the moon reached its zenith, an otherworldly force took hold of every werewolf present. Their bodies trembled and twisted as they gave in to the primal urges within them, their bones snapping and reforming, their muscles bulging with newfound strength. A cacophony of guttural roars echoed through the forest as wolves, their fur gleaming silver in the moonlight, burst forth from their human shells. The ground shook beneath their weight as they ran, a symphony of power and raw instinct propelling them forward. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare, but to these creatures it was their reality, a part of who they were.

"Go! The night is ours!" Austin shouted over the din, though his words were more for himself than anyone else. As the pack surged forward, a torrent of fur and fangs, he lingered just a heartbeat longer.

"Bonnie," he whispered again, the weight of his secret anchoring him to his true purpose. It was time to slip away, to return to her side, where his heart truly lay.

The symphony of the woods echoed with the primal howling of Austin's kin, a wild call that spoke of freedom and ferocity. But for Austin, it sang a different tune—one of love and protection—as he readied himself to abandon the hunt for a rescue far more critical to his soul. He could feel the raw power pulsing through his veins, urging him on towards his destined path.

The transformation seized Austin, contorting his body with inhuman grace—a metamorphosis both violent and beautiful. His muscles bulged and elongated, the sinews threading into new, powerful forms as his rugged human façade yielded to the wolf within. Fur sprouted in a silvery blonde cascade, matching the untamed mane he bore in his human form. With a jaw that now snapped with razor-sharp canines, and eyes that glinted like chips of ice under the moonlight, his wolf was a majestic beast, large and imposing. Each breath Austin's wolf form took fogged the air, a silent testament to the cold fire burning within his heart.

"Run," he commanded himself, voice lost amidst the symphony of howls that filled the night. The primal instincts surged through him, but his mind held on to the singular thought of Bonnie, her safety acting as an anchor against the tide of feral urges that threatened to overtake him.

He lunged forward, paws thudding against the earth with purpose. The forest became a blur of shadow and moonbeam as he weaved between trees, his ears tuned to the cacophony of the pack's hunt—a discordant lullaby that masked his departure. The scent of pine and damp soil mingled with the distant, coppery tang of blood, a stark reminder of the savagery he left behind.

"Keep focus," he growled internally, each bound carrying him closer to his hidden desire, away from the chaos. Somewhere, amidst the raucous cries of his brethren, he discerned the sharp crack of bone and the visceral tearing of flesh that accompanied their feast. It was the sound of the wild reclaiming its dominion, the sound of unbridled predation that served as the perfect distraction for his escape.

As Austin raced onwards, his keen senses missed not a single beat of the forest's rhythm. Yet, so intent was he on his silent vow to return to Bonnie, he failed to detect the stealthy pursuit of another—Victor, whose curiosity drove him to tail the leader through the shadowed woods, trailing the ghostly imprint of Austin's passage.

The forest air quivered with the echoes of terror—a symphony of chaos that Austin navigated with grim determination. He could hear the fabric of tents ripping, the crunch of cooler lids under heavy paws, and the shrill crescendo of screams that cut through the night. Campfires that had once been the heart of merry gatherings were now beacons for a massacre, casting long, dancing shadows as the unlucky campers found themselves in the midst of monstrous revelry.

"Please, no!" a voice pleaded somewhere to his left, muffled by the growls and snarls that responded with ruthless glee.

Austin's ears twitched, but he pressed on, muscles coiling and stretching beneath his thick, silver-grey fur streaked with darker shades that mirrored the moonlit sky. His eyes, glowing an intense blue, remained fixed ahead. Regret was a luxury he couldn't afford—not when Bonnie's safety hung in the balance. The taste of fear saturated the air, yet he refused to let it seep into his resolve.

"Run, just run!" another camper shouted, their footsteps pounding against the ground in futile escape.

"Should've stayed in the city," Austin thought, his heart hardening against the sorrow that threatened to claw its way up his throat. He was the leader; his pack needed this release, craved the hunt—it was their nature, their curse. But he would not partake tonight. Not while Bonnie faced her own darkness alone.

Skirting past a clearing, he glimpsed the flicker of a tail disappearing into the brush—a reminder that the pack was far from idle. But none spared him a glance. Their focus lay elsewhere, on the thrill of the chase, the promise of blood.

"Bonnie, wait for me," he thought, his breath forming misty clouds that dissipated swiftly into the cold air.

Meanwhile, unseen by Austin, Victor slinked behind, a shadow among shadows. His steps were careful, calculated to avoid detection. His eyes, narrow slits of cunning, peered through the foliage, tracing Austin's every move. Jerry's instructions echoed in his mind: "Find out what he's hiding."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Victor whispered to himself, a sly grin etched onto his face, hidden by the darkness. He watched as Austin's form grew smaller, more distant, his own curiosity burning like a fire within, fanned by the enigma that Austin had become.

The woods gave way to the familiar terrain leading to the bomb shelter, and Austin sensed the shift in his environment. Here, the scents were less wild, touched by human hands, and it spurred him onward. The entrance loomed ahead, salvation in concrete and steel.

Victor paused at the edge of the treeline, wary yet intrigued as he beheld the sight of the shelter's entrance. He knew he'd have to report back to Jerry soon—but not just yet. This mystery demanded further investigation, and Victor was all too eager to unravel it.

As Austin approached the shelter, his sharp senses picked up the faint scent of fear and desperation that seemed to emanate from the very concrete walls. His jaw tightened and his muscles coiled in preparation for what lay ahead. With a deep breath, he focused all of his energy on shifting into human form. In a swift, fluid motion, he transformed, his powerful frame now standing tall and imposing against the backdrop of the dark night. His blonde hair glinted like a halo in the dim light.

The tranquil silence of the evening was rudely interrupted by a sharp, piercing sound that sliced through the air like a knife — Bonnie's screams. They were unbridled, filled with such intense anguish that it felt like they were physically twisting Austin's insides. He didn't have a moment to stop and think about his next move; his feet were already carrying him towards the origin of those gut-wrenching cries, driven by an instinctual need to protect and comfort.

"Bonnie!" he bellowed, his voice ragged with the strain of his suppressed fury and concern as he stormed into the shelter. The thick steel door groaned under his force, yielding to the strength that belied his human form. His piercing eyes scanned the dimly lit interior, the sparse fluorescent lights flickering overhead casting ghostly shadows on the walls.

"Bonnie!" he called again, his tone laced with a command that he knew would have no effect on what awaited him inside. It was a call born not from expectation of obedience, but from the depths of desperation that gnawed at his insides.

He found her there, the chains that bound her rattling with the violence of her struggle, the metallic clinks rising above her continuous cries. Austin's fists clenched at the sight, the primal part of him roaring to life. But he stood his ground, a bulwark against the chaos, knowing all too well that the path before her was one she needed to traverse alone. It was a rite of passage, cruel and unyielding, yet necessary.

"Stay with me, Bonnie," he whispered fiercely, though his words were drowned out by her screams. He remembered his own trials, the bone-deep ache, the rage, and the thirst for dominance. Yet now, as leader, he could do nothing but watch and wait, his every instinct pulling him in opposing directions. Protect or dominate; the dilemma of a werewolf torn between man and beast.

The cold, unforgiving concrete walls seemed to amplify Bonnie's agonized screams, each one ringing through the air like a sharp blade slicing through flesh. Her body convulsed on the dirty floor, twisting and contorting in sync with the unseen forces that seemed to be conducting a symphony of torment upon her. The very air around them felt charged with an energy of pain and suffering, as if the room itself was alive and reveling in Bonnie's agony.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, carving rivers through the grime. Her wavy hair clung to her sweat-slicked skin as if trying to comfort her. But there was no solace to be found in the throes of the transformation, no gentle whisper that could soothe the wildfire raging through her veins.

"Please," she gasped between sobs, her voice ragged and strained, "make it stop."

He knelt beside her, the heat emanating from her trembling form enough to scorch. The air was thick with the scent of anguish—an odor that no amount of distance or time could ever erase from memory.

"Bonnie, look at me," Austin urged, reaching out but not daring to touch. "You’re strong. You can get through this."

Her eyes—once a soft haven of empathy now shimmered with an animalistic glint—met his. In that fleeting moment of clarity before another wave of pain crashed over her, he read the raw desperation etched within their depths.

"I can't...," she whimpered, her voice breaking as another guttural cry tore from her lips.

The chains rattled violently, a haunting melody to the gruesome transformation unfolding. Her bones seemed to cry out in protest, the sound piercing the veil of stoicism Austin wore like armor. Every scream, every plea was a testament to the mind-numbing pain that gripped her, contorting her small frame into an instrument of torture.

"Don’t fight it, Bonnie." His words were firm, though his heart quaked with the effort to remain composed. He knew the struggle all too well—the way the pain clawed its way through flesh and bone, relentless and unyielding.

"Ah—Austin!" she screeched, the name torn from her lips as another spasm wracked her body.

Her fingers clawed at the unforgiving ground, seeking purchase against the hellish tide. Austin felt something primal stir within him at the sound of his name distorted by her suffering, a feral urge to rip away the chains, to end her pain by any means necessary. But he couldn’t. He wouldn't.

"Stay with me," he said again, his voice a low growl of determination, "I'm right here. You're not alone."

Yet in that moment, surrounded by the cacophony of pain and the stark reality of her ordeal, they were both acutely aware of a chilling truth: in the face of such brutal transformation, Bonnie was utterly, devastatingly alone.

"God, Bonnie," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper yet laden with a palpable anguish that mirrored her own. The sight of her writhing on the cold concrete floor, the sound of her screams—it was like a knife twisting deep in his gut, the pain almost his own. Almost. His hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms as if the physical pain could somehow anchor him against the torrent of emotions threatening to consume him.

A sickening crunch resonated through the shelter, and he winced, each snap of bone an echo in his own flesh. He knew every break and mend, had endured them himself, but nothing had prepared him for the torment of witnessing his mate endure the same hellish ordeal.

She thrashed against her restraints, a low growl rumbling from the depths of her throat, her teeth bared in primal defiance. Her eyes, wild with pain, locked onto his for a fleeting moment before another convulsion seized her. The Bonnie he knew was slipping further away with each torturous moment, replaced by a creature of pure instinct and survival. And as she gnashed her teeth at him, a futile warning or perhaps a plea, Austin's heart fractured a little more, knowing this was a battle she had to face alone—no matter how much it tore him apart to watch.

The shelter quivered as Bonnie's convulsions escalated into violent tremors. Austin steadied himself against the cold wall, his muscles tensing with each of her shudders. Her skin stretched and rippled, contorting grotesquely as if a feral force fought to break free from within. The air grew thick as her body ballooned and contracted, fur sprouting in patches that rapidly spread until she was engulfed. And then, with a guttural snarl, the woman he cherished vanished before his eyes, leaving behind a beast with eyes like embers—glowing fiercely with a savage light that knew no reason, no restraint.

"Bonnie..." His voice trailed off, drowned by the roar of bloodlust that seemed to command every fiber of her being.

She lunged forward with an otherworldly might, chains straining and screeching against the force. The ferocity in her movements spoke of a desperation to rend, to tear apart the object of her fury—and that object was him. Austin's breath caught in his throat as he watched her struggle, the clank of metal on concrete reverberating through the space between them, a stark reminder of the perilous line they now tread. He could see it—the raw power, the unbridled aggression—as she snapped her jaws, aiming for flesh and bone. Her focus singular and deadly. She threw herself against her bindings, over and over, each attempt more desperate than the last, her growls a symphony of rage and pain that clawed at his heart.

There was no recognition, only the relentless pursuit of destruction—as if the very chains that bound her were the only things keeping him alive. Austin stood motionless, not daring to approach, painfully aware that any semblance of the woman he loved was buried beneath layers of primal instinct. Her snarls echoed.

Austin's muscles tensed, a low growl bubbling from his throat—an instinctual response to the threat before him. The wolf within urged him to claim dominance, to force submission, but he quelled the rising tide of authority, grounding himself in the knowledge that this was part of Bonnie's transformation—a rite of passage no chain could bind.

Her eyes, wild and luminous, flickered with an ancient ferocity, unseeing. The rippling fur along her back bristled as she lunged again, the chains holding fast. The standoff stretched, a taut line between man and beast, each second a testament to the tumultuous power of their kind. Then, without warning, the heavy door to the bomb shelter flew open, crashing against the wall with a resounding thud.

"What the hell is—?" Victor's voice cut through the tension.

His gaze landed on the wolf straining against the chains, recognition dawning in his eyes as the pieces fell into place. A smirk crossed his lips "Bonnie Barlow?"

Stay tuned for part 7!! Click HERE to view!

[missreblog]

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**Title: "Sunflowers and Shadows"**

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**Setting: Konoha Village, a sunny afternoon**

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**Characters:**

1. **Shikaku Nara:** A seasoned shinobi with a penchant for shadows and strategy. He's known for his laid-back demeanor and love for cloud-watching.

2. **Black Wife OC (Name: Hikari Nara):** Shikaku's wife and Shikamaru's mother. She's a vibrant woman, always wearing colorful dresses and humming cheerful tunes. Her laughter is contagious, and she brightens up any room she enters.

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**Scene: The Nara Residence**

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Hikari Nara, with her wild curls and sunflower-yellow dress, flitted around the cozy living room. Sunlight streamed through the open windows, casting warm rectangles on the tatami mats. Shikaku sat on the low wooden table, engrossed in a jōnin report. His shadow stretched lazily across the floor, mirroring his calm expression.

"Shikaku," Hikari sang, twirling near the window. "Why don't we plant sunflowers in the garden? They're like little suns, you know? Always reaching for the sky."

Shikaku glanced up, amused. "Sunflowers, huh? They'll tower over everything else."

"That's the point!" Hikari plopped down next to him, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes. "Imagine our garden—a sea of golden faces following the sun. And at night, they'll bow their heads, whispering secrets to the moon."

Shikaku leaned back, studying her. "You're an odd one, Hikari."

She nudged him playfully. "And you're too serious, my shadow-loving husband. Let's balance each other out."

He sighed, pretending annoyance. "Fine. Sunflowers it is."

---

And so, in the Nara garden, sunflowers sprouted alongside the shadows. Shikaku watched them grow, their faces tracking the sun's journey. Hikari danced among them, her laughter echoing through the leaves. She'd sit cross-legged, sketching clouds in her notebook, while Shikaku practiced his jutsu nearby.

One day, as twilight painted the sky, Hikari leaned against him. "You know, Shikaku, shadows need light to exist. Just like us."

He raised an eyebrow. "Philosophical, aren't we?"

"But it's true!" She pointed at the sunflowers. "They thrive because of the sun. And you—you thrive because of me."

Shikaku chuckled. "I suppose I do."

Their son, Shikamaru, wandered over, yawning. "What's all this about?"

Hikari ruffled his hair. "Balance, my little genius. Sunflowers and shadows."

And so, in the Nara household, laughter bloomed alongside strategy. Shikaku learned to appreciate the sun's warmth, and Hikari discovered the beauty of shadows. Together, they painted their lives with vibrant hues, creating a masterpiece that even the Hokage admired.

---

*End of Scenario*

---

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Clone Wars: A Distant Echo

Part 2 of the Clone Wars Bad Batch arc with my OC: Specter! this has been edited *adla'vod: roughly translates to "twin", directly translates to "same brother/sister"

Specter felt surprised and almost betrayed when Crosshair let General Anakin Skywalker inspect his beloved rifle. Usually, he would get fussy if even she touched it. He wouldn’t even let her put her stuff next to his. 

The Bad Batch, Captain Rex, and the Jedi were on board the Batch’s ship—the Marauder—on their way to Skako Minor, following the live signal “Echo” supposedly sent out. Rex watched as Wrecker lifted a gonk droid with one hand and ate with the other. Crosshair observed as the General looked at his gun, and Hunter monitored any planetside activity at the console while Tech flew them to their destination. The female clone sat back, resting and mentally preparing herself for their next mission. 

“So, how many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?” Anakin asked Hunter.

“Honestly, sir, I’ve lost count. All the action sort of blurs together,” he admitted with a shrug.

“I know you work with Cody sometimes, but who exactly do you guys report to?” Rex asked. Hunter hummed in thought.

“Good question. Can’t say I’ve got an answer.”

“Yeah, I’d feel really bad for the one who would have to try and make sense of our reports,” Specter piped up. Wrecker laughed in agreement. “Oh, adla’vod?” The sniper turned to his twin as Anakin handed him his rifle back. “Your taste in music is weird and the songs you suggested are weird, and I love it. I’m adding them to the playlist.”

“I told you,” he said with a smirk. 

“So you’re the first female clone. How does that affect your… dynamic?” Skywalker asked, turning his attention to Specter. She raised an eyebrow.

“If you’re implying what I think you are, don’t worry about it. I’ve heard enough of the whispers. I’ve saved these boys more times than they’d like to admit, so I’m not just a pretty face.”

“What?” Anakin blushed, “N-no, like— gosh how do I say it without sounding crass?” Specter surprised him by laughing. 

“I’m teasing, General, I know what you mean. They’re my brothers and best friends. They respect me and know when to give me my space when I need it. In return, I don’t break their knees. Isn’t that right boys?” she asked aloud to her team.

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied; some enthusiastically, some with disdain. 

“However they don’t always pick up after themselves. Take Tech, for example,” she said loudly, hoping to get his attention.

“What now?” he sighed.

“Just because my bunk was empty and clean, does not mean you get to use it for storage for your projects.”

“You weren’t using it.”

“Because your stuff was on it!” Rex and Anakin snickered at their argument while Crosshair and Hunter rolled their eyes. A thud and the sound of alarms ended their argument.

“We are approaching Skako Minor,” Tech reported. “It looks to be a difficult landing.” The Marauder broke through the thunderous clouds, turbulence rocked the ship. Wrecker went to help Tech man the controls while the others strapped themselves in. 

Once they landed and everything settled, the rest of the team gathered in the cockpit.

“Rex, what do we know about this place?” Anakin asked his captain.

“On this part of Skako, there’s a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is that they’re very primitive.”

“‘Primitive’ is being kind. My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles,” Tech chimed in. A thud and screech were heard outside the ship, almost in reply to the Batcher’s remark. A shadow of a creature scurried over the viewport.

“Oh! What the heck was that?” Wrecker exclaimed as the ship rocked and jolted.

“It’s one of those reptiles,” Tech simply answered.

“I want that thing off my ship,” Hunter growled, putting on his helmet. The Batchers followed his lead and prepared to go outside to investigate. 

“Hold on! Hold on! Don’t just run out there,” Rex warned. 

The Bad Batch ignored him, running out to the blowing winds. A creature was on top of the ship, its rider a mere silhouette against the dim golden light peeking through the dust and clouds.

“Hey! Get off of there!” Wrecker yelled, pointing his blaster at them. Anakin ignited his saber but held his arm out to the brute.

“Hey, calm down. We need to talk to them,” he said.

“Why?” Hunter gowled. The Bad Batch wasn’t used to handling confrontations with diplomacy.

“The General’s right,” Rex supported. Two more flying creatures screeched and approached fast, intently flying toward the group. 

“Heads up!” Specter yelled, crouching low. Anakin pushed Rex out of the way as one of them reached out with its claws to grab at the captain. The two flew by, but the one atop the ship jumped down and grabbed Anakin before flying away with the rest of its group. The Jedi’s lightsaber fell from his belt, Rex grabbed it before firing a few potshots at the reptile, hoping to have some sort of effect. Tech looked through his visor, tracking him.

“I have a thermal reading. Point-two-five east, elevation 175,” he reported. 

“Relax,” Crosshair said, readying his rifle and using Tech’s shoulder as a mount, “I’ll handle this.” He fired a grappling line, latching onto the leg of the reptile holding Anakin.

“What are you doing?” Rex asked as Crosshair handed Hunter the base of the line. 

“Going for a ride,” Hunter said, clipping the line to his belt before being yanked away. “Keep the boys out of trouble, Spec.” Specter crossed her arms, and yelled after him.

“Like they listen to me anyway, but sure thing.” 

The group watched as Hunter and the General disappeared into the thick clouds. Silence surrounded the group until Wrecker turned to Specter and asked-

“Should we follow them?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “We can’t be sure of any more of those reptiles hiding among the clouds. Best to trust Hunter to assess the situation before we rush in.” Her fist tightened with anxiety by her side; Hunter often trusted her judgment enough for her to lead the group when he couldn’t, but this time the life of a Jedi General was on the line.

“Tech, I’m with the General. Hone in on my signal,” Hunter’s voice eventually came through the comm. Specter relaxed her shoulders before turning to the others.

“Alright, now we can regroup. Everyone back to the Marauder,” she said, taking charge and gesturing back to the ship, following the others inside just as Tech launched the shuttle and flew to Hunter’s signal. 

They eventually touched down a ways back from the edge of a ridge leading down into the Poletec’s village. Hunter was kneeling down, out of sight, observing the scene. 

“That creature still has a hold of the General,” he reported to Rex, who went to take position beside him. Rex flipped down the antennae on his helmet, looking through the scope to assess Skywalker, Specter mirrored him, tracking each of the villagers.

“We’re going in,” he said, standing up, “but remember what the General said. ‘No casualties, disarm only’.” The reminder was emphasized towards the Batch with a few pointed glances. Wrecker shook his head and slumped in dejection. 

“We’re on it, Captain,” Hunter stood up before giving orders. “Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide!” The two went to push the large boulder nearby down the ridge and into the village. As it rolled, Wrecker shadowed behind it, using it as cover, while Crosshair stayed behind to take a sniper position. The rest of the team followed suit, shooting to disarm the natives as they scrambled away. Crosshair shot an electric probe at the leg of the creature holding Anakin; it flew off from the shock, allowing the Jedi to roll out of the way of the boulder. Hunter pointed his pistol at the leader of the Poletecs; it spoke its language at him, waving his arms about. “Tech, translate what he said?” 

“He says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader,” he relayed, reading the translation off his visor.

“We didn’t bring the war here,” Anakin said, “it was Wat Tambor and the Separatists.” Tech went to translate, doing his best to mimic the Poltec dialect. The chieftain looked between him and Skywalker.

“Tell him we apologize for what’s happened,” Rex stepped forward. “But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll. As soon as we rescue him, we’ll leave this planet, for good.” Tech nodded, turning to the chieftain and relaying the information. 

Specter couldn’t help but giggle; Rex noticed her shaking shoulders and nudged her side. 

“Hey, what’s so funny?”

“He just sounds so robotic. He’s not even attempting to follow through with the accent,” she explained. 

“Could you do any better?” Rex asked. She scoffed.

“Give me a day and I could even learn the local dialect, Captain. If it helps put things in perspective, I learned Galactic Sign Language in a week.” 

“Wow, Specter, is there anything you can’t do?” Rex wondered.

“Yeah. She can’t reach the high shelves,” Crosshair sneered. His twin stomped on his foot. 

The Poltec leader and Tech continued to speak back and forth in what looked like apologies and negotiations. 

“The chief says he’ll provide us with scouts and lead us to Tambor’s city. From there, we’re on our own,” he reported to Anakin. 

“Any help is better than no help.”

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

The two scouts led the team to a rocky outlook with a clear view of the city, or at least the spires hanging down from the clouds. One pointed towards the city and said something in his language; Tech thanked them before they went to return to their village. 

“Hope nobody’s scared of heights,” Anakin said with a smirk. Crosshair, Hunter, and Specter turned to look at Wrecker, who perked up at the attention.

“Well, I’m not scared of nothing!” he assured, unconvincingly. He glanced down the cliff rock, however, noting the height. “I just… when I’m up real high, I got a problem with gravity,” the brute admitted.

“Speaking of problems,” Tech spoke up, “I am no longer picking up Echo’s signal.”

“I don’t understand,” Rex said, surprised, “you said it was coming from this city.”

“I can only speculate, but it is possible there’s a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances,” Tech said, holding up his datapad.

“Or… maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap,” Hunter speculated. “And maybe your friend’s actually dead. Well I can’t be the only one thinking of that.”

“But if a clone can come back from the dead, then nothing could stop me from being completely unhinged,” Specter fantasized.

“Look, every mission could be a trap. This one is no different,” Rex argued against Hunter. “I’m telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He’s alive!”

“I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel,” Crosshair sneered, turning his back on the captain. Specter tilted her head back in exasperation. 

“I had no choice. You hear me?” Rex said, his tone dark and on the verge of anger.

“Oh, I don’t blame you. I would’ve left him for dead too. Besides, he’s just another reg.” 

Specter didn’t blame Rex, nor did she try to stop him when he punched Crosshair to the ground. 

“Hey!” Wrecker grabbed the captain by the back of his armor. “Why don’t you pick on someone not your size?” The brute threw him off, but Rex turned right back around and marched up to him.

“You’ll be a whole lot smaller when I’m through with you,” he growled.

“That’s enough!” Anakin ordered, pushing the two men apart. “Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my Captain alone.” Hunter motioned for the Bad Batch to follow him, Specter helped Crosshair stand up before smacking the back of his helmet, scolding her twin for his insensitive comment.

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

The wind howled, blowing golden dust. Specter shifted her stance again, trying to ignore the itch of sand up in her armor. The Batch did their best to peer through the sand and guard the entrance of one of the towers leading up to the city while Tech worked on the door panel. Hunter sensed someone coming, holding up his gun in defense. But it was Skywalker and Rex running to meet them.

“We’re in business, General. Tech regained Echo’s signal,” Hunter reported, shouting over the wind and walking him towards the entrance. “It’s coming from this tower. How’s it going, Tech?” The clone had his datapad hooked up to a console, quietly working through algorithms and firewalls to get past the door. After pushing a few buttons, he was able to gain access.

“Sorry it took so long,” he replied with a shrug. 

“Hey, twins, check it out,” Hunter nodded inside. 

“Ah yes, the noble sacrifices,” Specter slumped before holding up her blaster and following Crosshair, sweeping the inner room for any traps or cameras. They found nothing and turned back to the door. 

“Yeah, it’s a lift,” Crosshair deadpanned.

“How magical,” Specter feigned wonder.

“Well, we already knew that,” Rex said, unamused, walking inside with the others. Wrecker nervously looked up at the tower, most of it disappeared behind heavy clouds. 

“Wait, wait, wait. A lift? How far up are we going?” he growled.

“Don’t worry, Wrecker. I’ll hold your hand,” Hunter teased. 

“Hey! Cut it out, Sarge,” Wrecker said, bumping past Hunter’s shoulder, “Just give me some droids to crush.”

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

“Remember, this is a stealth mission,” the General said as the lift neared the top, “no blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we’re here.”

“Pff, don’t count on it,” Specter muttered, collapsing her blaster’s stalk and preparing her pistol. The door opened to a group of droids who abandoned their tasks, turned to the intruders, and readied their weapons. Wrecker dashed out, crashing into the ones closest, throwing one at another group near the back and swinging another at a few near the opening. They fell with robotic screams.

“I told you!” Specter said before running out to the fight with her squadmates. Anakin could only shake his head with a smirk. She fired alongside Tech, covering the corridor that led inside the facility. A pair of droids snuck up behind them, separating her and Tech. Specter let them corner her against some crates; once they were right where she wanted, she jumped up and pushed off against the crates—over the droids’ line of fire—knocking them down with a split kick. A shot flew past her shoulder, striking a lone droid attempting to charge at her; Specter looked up to find Crosshair fired the shot, she returned the favor by blasting a droid approaching behind him.

 Wrecker charged at the remaining droids, firing relentlessly and cheering from the adrenaline once they were victorious. Everyone simply looked at him.

“Uh… sorry. I just got excited.” Specter came around and patted his shoulder while Tech checked his scanner.

“I’ve still got a lock on Echo’s signal.” 

“All right, men.” Hunter readied his blaster and led the way to the corridor. “Let’s hunt some droids.”

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

Droids on patrol marched through the hall, though they didn’t detect the door opening and Hunter peeking out. He motioned Specter forward and nodded; they stepped out, he shot the droids entering the area while she destroyed the ones that passed, clearing the way for Skywalker to step into the hallway. 

“Where exactly is Echo’s signal coming from?” he asked Tech. The clone adjusted his goggles as he looked at his datapad.

“Strange. I just lost the signal.”

“What? How can that be?” Rex asked, removing his helmet. “There’s no ‘atmospheric disturbances’ up here.”

“Well, I have a new theory. I’m surprised I did not consider it earlier,” Tech shook his head. “The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal.”

“Okay, we’re splitting up. Search every door,” the General began to order, “If someone finds Echo, contact the others. We go in together, just in case there’s trouble.” Specter and Crosshair split with the General while the others went down the other way. She found nothing in the doors she checked, only storage containers and maintenance supplies. 

Specter had a very hard time believing a clone like Echo could have survived the attack on the citadel, but she knew if it was one of her squadmates, she would be just as adamant to rescue them as Rex was. But like Tech, she was logical enough to know that the chances of Echo actually being alive were low. But not zero. 

A commotion caught her attention: muffled blaster fire and a lightsaber. The clone ran towards Anakin, configuring her blaster into a sniper rifle; she got there just in time, shooting down the droids before they could attack again. The Jedi stood up, calmly walking towards her.

“Thanks for the backup.”

“No problem, General,” she said, giving a two-fingered salute.

“Hey, where did you get that weapon? I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it,” he asked as they walked down the hall.

“I doubt you would’ve. Tech and Crosshair designed and built it after I saved them on a mission from Corellia… and took care of them when they caught Corellian fever,” she snickered.

“You didn’t have to mention that,” Crosshair hissed, coming up beside them.

“Too late, Cross,” she teased, patting the side of his helmet. He swatted her hand away. “But I was the one who helped engineer the reconfiguring mechanism.”

“Clever,” the Jedi complimented. 

“Don’t let it get to her head,” Crosshair warned.

“Hey, how about when you— did you guys hear something?” Specter stopped herself, suddenly perking up. The others heard it too; sounds of droids and blasters being fired. 

“Sounds like trouble. Let’s move,” the General ordered.

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

It seemed the three had arrived just in time to even the odds against the droids attacking the rest of the team. Anakin used the Force to push a group out of his way, swinging his lightsaber to cut them and deflect their shots. Hunter took the opportunity to go on the offensive, Wrecker, Tech, and Rex joined in. The Sergeant held up a droid by the neck, ready to punch its head off, but Crosshair came in and shot it off for him. A whistle sounded, Specter came running in, taking a position by Wrecker.

“Hey, swing me around,” she said.

“Like on Mon Cala?” he asked, shooting a few droids.

“What? No, like on Ryloth.” They hooked their arms around each other and he spun, swinging Specter around to shoot and kick at the rest of the droids near them. The Jedi stabbed the last one. “Mon Cala… you didn’t swing me, you threw me. Underwater,” Specter mumbled. More blaster fire filled the hallway, even more droids were coming. The team took defensive positions in the side of the room. 

“Tech, open that door for Rex!” Anakin ordered over the noise. 

“Yes, sir!” Tech nodded and ran to take care of the door.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Captain,” Hunter said, turning to acknowledge him. “Specter, you’re with them.” Rex and Specter ran to meet Tech who was able to get the door open and enter the room. It was filled with dimly lit panels and other controls. 

“I don’t like the look of this,” Specter heard Rex say— her back was turned, keeping an eye on the door and their other surroundings. 

“I’m definitely picking up a life-form in there,” Tech said, his scanner beeping in rapid succession. He investigated the controls, “It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open.” Specter looked over her shoulder, Tech worked at the control panel and got the chamber open. 

The door hissed open and a form fell forward, only caught by the wires attached to—him. It was a body. Malnourished, disfigured, but a clone’s body nonetheless. Specter stifled a gasp at the sight. 

“Echo,” Rex breathed. “Tech, we’ve got to get him out of here. Figure out how to…  unplug him from… from this mess.” Rex frantically undid the line around his torso, laying the body down onto the floor, cables were still attached to Echo’s head. “What have they done to you?” Specter abandoned watching the door and turned to go help Rex, who had taken off his helmet.

“We… we have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel,” the soldier muttered. His eyes were open but unseeing, skin sickly and pale, body emaciated and drawn. Both his legs and his right arm were replaced by cybernetic parts.

“He’s stable, but blood sugar is low,” Specter reported, removing her helmet and taking out a small flashlight. She shined it in his eyes, they were dilated and unfocused. “He’s in there but barely. Hallucinating. Oxygen in his brain must be low too, his heartbeat is irregular.” She felt his pulse on his wrist and by his neck.

“No! I’ll go first,” Echo continued in his hallucination, reaching out. Rex gently shook him.

“Echo,” he pleaded. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.” The pale clone calmed down, his eyes came into focus.

“Rex? You, you came back for me,” he breathed, reaching to touch Rex.

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Rex assured. 

“What? What happened? Where am I?” Echo looked around.

“Yeah, he’s coming around alright. It’s okay, soldier. You’re safe now,” she assured.

“Just sit tight, Echo,” Rex said, “You’re going home.”

[celesteskiess]

whispers of enchantment and shadows

pairing: hongjoong x reader/oc

fandom: ateez

word count: 501

synopsis: when a pirate's arrival shatters trust, Lyra discovers a wounded boy on the forbidden shore, prompting a journey that challenges her kindness against past fears

prologue: echoes of magic and mystery

A long, long time ago, when the moonlight painted silvery pathways through the dense foliage of the Enchanted Woods, a forest fairy named Lyra sat upon a moss-covered rock, her voice as melodious as the tinkling of wind chimes. The fairies and creatures of the woods gathered around her, their eyes glittering with anticipation as she began her tale. 

“Once upon a time, in a realm beyond the reach of human eyes, there was an ancient place known as Neverland,” Lyra began. “This mystical island was a haven for creatures of magic, especially fairies like us. Here, the moon painted the skies with hues of lavender, and the stars whispered secrets to the trees.”

Lyra’s wings glowed softly as she recounted the tale. “One day, a lost boy named Peter Pan stumbled upon the shores of Neverland. With his mischievous grin and untamed spirit, he was like a breath of adventure to us all. Peter found himself embraced by the magical aura of the island, and with time, he became friends with a curious and spirited forest fairy like me.”

As the story unfolded, the enchanted audience gasped and chuckled at the adventures of Peter Pan and his fairy companion. They faced down the notorious Captain Hook and his crew of evil pirates, and they soared above the treetops on the backs of pixie-dust-laden winds. Together, they discovered secret coves, hidden waterfalls, and the joy of living in a world where time seemed to stand still. 

“But as time went on,” Lyra’s voice grew softer, “Peter Pan began to change. His visits to Neverland became fewer and farther between. His laughter, once echoing through the canopies, grew faint. He was growing older, and the magic that held him here was weakening.”

A sigh rippled through the forest as Lyra continued. “Though Peter never forgot Neverland, he couldn’t deny the pull of his own world, a place where time flowed relentlessly. And so, one day, with a heavy heart, Peter left Neverland behind, bidding farewell to his fairy friend and the adventures they shared.”

Lyra’s expression grew somber. “It was a lesson for all fairies, a reminder that the world of humans was not one to be embraced without caution. While some humans may be kind and gentle, others are driven by selfishness and greed, seeking to conquer and possess all they can. Fairies, with their delicate hearts and love for nature, were warned to stay away from the human world.”

The fairies and creatures of the Enchanted Woods listened with understanding, their eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and wisdom. Lyra concluded her tale with a sigh, her voice like a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. “And so, dear friends, let us remember the tale of Peter Pan as a cautionary one. A reminder that the beauty of our world lies in its enchantment, its tranquility, and its connection to nature. Let us cherish our peaceful haven and remain ever vigilant against the lure of the human world.”

[as-is-above-so-below]

In the Middle of the Night (Jason Todd x OC)

Masterlist

Chapter 8, Chapter 10

story summary: Melanie Withers and Jason Todd do everything together - including but not limited to stealing tires off Gotham's famous vigilante. The newest additions to the Wayne family begin their journey, learning how to navigate their new family, life as vigilantes, adolescence, grief, and rebirth.

chapter summary: Happy New Year from the Batfamily! (and also, SURPRISE WALLY NAME DROP! AAAAAAA)

December 2012

Strong winds tugged at Redwing’s cape, the yellow fabric billowing behind her on her gargoyle perch. People littered the streets below under the soft glow of neon and street lights; they poured in and out of various bars and nightclubs, despite the frigid temperatures and quickly accumulating layers of snow. 

Nothing could keep the city of Gotham from a good time on New Year’s Eve.

She grabbed the hems near her midsection and clipped them together, securing them around her torso for warmth. Robin did the same on the next statue, tugging his hood over his wet hair. While cold fronts and heavy snow were typical for that time of year, the continued steady drop in bitter temperature over just a few hours wasn’t. She raised her gloved hand to her earpiece and tapped open her comms.

“Oracle?”

“Hi, Redwing! How are you this fine winter evening?”

“Cold. Unnaturally cold,” she grumbled, dusting the heavy flurries off her shoulders. “Could you pull up weather patterns and temperatures for the last ten years?”

Robin shifted from the balls of his feet to a seated position, his legs dangling below. He rested some of his weight onto his hands, pressed forward between his legs. “What’re ya thinkin’, Red?”

“I’m thinking that it was thirty degrees when we left the cave, and we’re about to drop into the negatives in the span of,” she turned back to look up at the clocktower behind them, “three hours.”

“Abnormal weather conditions don’t necessarily mean Victor’s involved.”

Batman crouched on his heels between them following his question, shrouded in his black cape. Like them, he had a winterized version of his suit on – the usual color scheme, but slightly bulkier with the extra layers and warming factor built in. The bat symbol at the center of his chest had more shine than his usual suit.

“I don’t know… I could be wrong, but this doesn’t feel right.”

“You have a good sense of climate, Redwing!” Oracle chimed back in. “The chill you’re feeling is way below normal. Gotham normally hangs in the thirty- to forty-degree range in December. And temps definitely don’t drop this fast.”

Batman hummed in affirmation, a proud smirk on his face. “Don’t ever doubt your instincts. Well done.”

“But why now? Freeze covered Gotham in ice in the middle of August before; he doesn’t need cold weather,” she wondered, looking to her father for ideas.

The bat tapped away at his gauntlet, pulling up the records from his last encounter with the man. “I found Victor so quickly before because it was the dead of summer. He could be using seasonality as camouflage.”

Oracle’s voice echoed in their ears again, “I’d be willing to bet he hoped we would be preoccupied with this evening’s festivities.”

A smart move on his end, considering they were just now noticing the weather fluctuation. 

“Assuming he built the same kind of devices, there were three units I had to track down before they reached their full potential. My analysis then estimated it would have taken five hours to freeze the city over.”

The winged duo nodded solemnly, meeting each other’s white eyes. “It’s already been at least three. We don’t have much time,” Robin pointed out, rising to his feet again.

“I could reach out to KF and see if he’s available to help?”

“No need! I think I have an idea where at least one will be.”

“Care to share with the class?” she asked. Her forehead wrinkled where her eyebrows were concealed under her mask.

The boy smirked as he pulled out his grapple gun, his arm hanging loosely by his side. “Freeze is the sentimental type, right? Do you still have his wife at the lab?”

“Yes.”

“What better place to attack Gotham from than the tallest building in the city?”

“You think he’s at Wayne Tower?” Redwing stood with him, readying her own line.

“I don’t think. I know.”

Her eyes rolled behind the white lenses of her mask. “Fascinating.”

“What, my charm? Dashing good looks? Searing intellect?”

She stepped forward so only her heels balanced on the beast’s nose. Her arches and toes hovered in the air. She tapped the muzzle of the tool against her chin with pursed lips as she pretended to think. “Your enormous ego,” she finally concluded, laughing wildly as his boyish grin morphed into a hurt expression as she tipped over, letting her body fall head-first into the neon lights below.

Redwing allowed herself to freefall for a few seconds before firing the grapple hook. It caught on a nearby water tower, launching her back towards the sky.

In the year since Bruce had adopted them, Melanie had learned that Dick was right about at least one thing.

There’s nothing like flying.

Her earpiece crackled to life again. “Ego?!” Robin cried, appalled, coming into view about forty feet to her left. “My ego is well-earned! I deserve an apology!”

“And how might I get back into your good graces, Boy Wonder?”

“It’ll be midnight soon. I think a New Year’s kiss is in order.”

“Who else would I kiss?”

“No PDA on duty.”

“Golly gee willickers, Batman.” He took a high-pitched voice, mocking the original Robin. “Don’t be a party pooper. You swat spit Catwoman in the field all the time!”

“I do not. Even if I did, it would be different.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Focus,” Batman snapped, the blue halo from the Wayne Enterprises logo coming into view. Lo and behold, a structure resembling a stocky cell tower sat on the roof, pumping a cold front into Gotham’s atmosphere. Nearby, a similar unit lit up the Foxteca building; in the distance, a third condenser at the Sporting Complex.

The group took refuge on a neighboring rooftop as Batman cataloged the force they were going up against. “I don’t see Victor’s heat signature,” he mumbled, making a mental note. “You two distract his henchmen. I’ll shut down the weather machine then we'll move on to the next. We have to be quick.”

“Yessir!”

With the plan set, the two birds took to Wayne Enterprises, scaling the side farthest from the equipment. While they would work on the goons, Batman would sneak up the back to access the interface. Two loud cackles drew the attention of the dozen or so men to the teens; Robin traipsed the curbed edge like a tightrope while Redwing juggled R-shaped shurikens atop an exhaust vent.

“So,” Robin started. He spun on one foot to turn back around and go back the way he came. “You all have two options. You can surrender peacefully, and we leave you for the GCPD. Or, we can kick your butts, and you’re arrested anyway. Your call!”

Despite his generous offer, Regulator brutes charged them, a few hanging back while their gauntlets whirred to life.

Robin sighed dramatically, hopping down from the ledge. “They just never learn, do they, Wing?”

“They don’t, Rob. They really don’t.” She snatched one of the sharp weapons out of the air on its downward arch and directed it into the muzzle of a rifle. The gun backfired, causing its holder to reel from the bright flash of heat.

As Robin sprinted forward, Redwing jumped from the vent onto her partner’s locked and ready hands, propelling her into the air in their enemies’ direction. She swiftly moved between enemies, sometimes kicking some in Robin’s direction for an assist. She prioritized enemies with guns first, wanting them disarmed and out of the way quickly. Despite the freezing air, Redwing still felt a layer of sweat forming underneath her thermal layer from the effort of the fight. 

Bullets pinged off the concrete and metal structures around them as they dodged and weaved through their trajectories; the sharp, tangy smoke almost overwhelmed her senses.

As the number of active targets dwindled, Redwing felt a hot muzzle press against the back of her skull; she immediately pivoted, barely knocking it away for the bullet to miss. “Oof, that was a close one!” she laughed, ripping the rifle out of the man’s hands. “Almost got me there!”

While she was quick to knock him unconscious with the butt of his gun, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the massive hand that wrapped around her bicep and yanked, sending her skidding across the roof. Her shoulder audibly popped, and she groaned at the sound and sudden shooting pain down her arm.

As she tried to her shoulder it back in, the last lackey loomed over her. Allowing herself to get grabbed was a big mistake that allowed her opponent to hold all of the power, especially now that one of her limbs was out of commission. She could fight with what she had, but adjusting to the ache wasted precious time that she did not have.

At least, until a sticky pellet thudded against the Regulator’s gauntlet and activated, volts of electricity arcing through his arm to the ground. He stumbled back, leaving Robin open to slide underneath his grip and forcing him to topple by tripping his feet.

“You heard her, man! It’s not her time.” He, too, fell unconscious when the black-haired boy was finished with him.

“You good?”

She nodded, gripping her bicep with her opposite hand to brace it to her side.

“You were tellin’ us about being quick?! What the hell, B? What’s taking so long?” Robin pressed, helping Redwing up while nursing his own bruises at his side. 

“These condensers are different,” Batman grunted as he typed at the machine’s terminal. “We have to shut them off at the same time. We’re going to have to split up.”

“You can’t figure out how to disarm them manually?”

“No. That will take hours, which we don’t have.”

He stepped away from his task to inspect Redwing’s limp limb, pressed against her side. The girl hissed as he tried to twinge it with barely any pressure, jerking away from his touch. Robin certainly had a busted lip and a few bruises of his own.

“It’s dislocated.”

“Batman, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I’m calling the Batmobile to take you back to the cave–”

“We need three people to turn these off,” Redwing cut him off, turning her shoulder to her partner. “Robin?”

He sighed deeply, gingerly looping his fingers around her wrist and bracing her back. “Alright–”

“Robin, don’t you dare–”

POP!

“GAH–” Redwing took a deep breath before letting out a whoosh of air. “See? All good!” She turned momentarily as if to look around, hiding the pained expression on her face. “Christ on a cracker, that hurt.”

Batman was pinching the bridge of his nose over his cowl, his head bowed and shaking. “Nightwing’s supposed to be my problem child, not you two.” He took her arm and tested her mobility, moving and rotating the appendage in all directions. When he was begrudgingly satisfied, Batman sighed again. “Fine, but you’re staying here. Robin, you go to Foxteca; plug this into the terminal before I give the signal. I’ll cover the arena.”

Robin took the flash drive from their father and tucked it into his utility belt. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, brushing a spot of blood off her cheek with his thumb.

She smiled warmly and shrugged. “I think I can handle pressing a button. I’ll be fine. Besides, you owe me a kiss.”

“Me?! No, no, no, you’re supposed to kiss me–”

“If I have to tell you two to focus again, you’re suspended for a week.”

Batman wasn’t one to make threats lightly, and neither Redwing nor Robin wanted to find out how strict the man was feeling. Redwing laughed and shoved him away before heading over to her station.

It took Batman and Robin some time to get to their respective locations. Long enough for the eerie silence to make the hair on the back of her neck stand. Nothing but the cold wind gusts and mechanical buzzing in her ears. 

Something was missing…

“Batman, Robin. Do either of you have eyes on Mr. Freeze?” she questioned, taking cautious steps toward the middle of the skyscraper’s roof.

“Negative.”

“No, why?”

The air shifted, setting off alarms in her mind. Redwing dove forward just in time to not get crushed by a giant mecha suit’s fist. She rolled easily and sprang to her feet, finding herself face-to-face with the man himself. The temperature dropped noticeably around the icy metal, the vapor from her breath thicker and more visible than before.

“Ah, the Girl Wonder. I was expecting Batman.”

Victor Fries played into his villain persona well. His voice didn’t just have a cold tone; the vibrato sent actual chills down her already taut spine.

“Sorry to disappoint, Victor,” she replied, readying her fighting stance. “I guess he just didn’t think you were much of a threat.”

Her opponent chuckled darkly, his heavy steps clunking on concrete as he closed in on her. “She thinks she’s Batman,” he growled. “How quaint.”

Redwing slid under his downward swing, sprinting back toward the weather machine at the now far corner. Freeze just caught the corner of her cape, which she immediately released as soon as she felt the familiar tug. Out of his reach again, she tapped her comms back on. “Speak of the devil!”

“He’s there? I’m coming back to you–”

“There isn’t time!” the girl interrupted, narrowly sidestepping an ice ray. The ends of her hair had long since gathered an icy sheen from the wet air and subzero temperatures. “We have to do this now!”

Her evasive skills would be the hot ticket item for their next team meeting, considering how often Redwing was snatched up during this encounter.

Freeze seized her by the back of her neck, stopping her in her tracks and lifting her off the ground without effort. She scrambled for one of the pouches on her belt, only for it to be torn away and slammed into the ground. “I don’t think so, little bird,” Freeze snarled and pulled her face forward, stopping just short of smashing the protective barrier around his head. Redwing was forced to ignore the chattering in her ear, focused only on steadying her breathing and figuring a way to do her part and shut down the terminal behind Freeze. The man adjusted his grip, now keeping her suspended from the front.

“Why…are you…doing this?” she choked out, slowly slipping her hand over her stomach, then her breastplate…

“Batman and Mr. Wayne took my Nora from me,” he shared as if it was obvious. His corpse-like, blue skin was infinitely more horrifying up close. “I intend to retrieve what is mine and leave this wretched city a tundra when I’m done with it!”

“Redwing, now!”

“She’s not…your…property.” Finally, she pressed the ‘R’ on her chest, dispensing another golden shuriken, and, with a year’s worth of practice and great skill, hurled the star at the red switch.

Flip

“No!”

The cold front spewing into the night sky immediately started to narrow until it dwindled into nothing, the various gears and pieces slowing to a stop. She assumed, in the distance, the other machines and beams had similar reactions. Already the heavy, white storm turned into soft flurries, more representative of a New Jersey winter.

The plan had worked.

“Red, hold on! I’m coming!”

“No!” Victor roared again, charging to his creation, only to find a black screen. The drives permanently disabled the software once it was shut down, making it inaccessible. Forever. “You insignificant little witch! You’ll pay for this!” 

And suddenly, the bruising pressure was gone, and she was flying again.

And flying.

And flying.

Then falling.

Her ice-tipped hair bit and stung her face as she slapped at her hip, gloves meeting her suit helplessly with wide eyes.

He took her belt; her grapple–

And no cape. She’d ditched it, effectively clipping her own wings.

She wanted to scream and call out for Robin or Batman, but the panic and violent terror gagged her as she plummeted toward the empty city street. Would her father be the one to retrieve her broken, bloody body, or her brother?

Not Jay, anyone but Jay…

Jason

Jason

Jason

A body slammed into hers with a grunted Oof, knocking her path to the snow-covered pavement off course. It was like colliding with a brick wall. Her body jerked from being caught at the waist before being enveloped in a tight hold and turned in the air, nose pressed against a firm chest; she smelled musky sweat, gunpowder, and the lingering twinge of mint toothpaste. 

They soared for about two seconds before their trajectory arched back to the ground. When they finally hit solid ground, the other person hit first, cushioning her landing, before they tumbled down the street. When they slowed to a stop several feet from the initial impact, the cage around her loosened, and her loose body flopped face down into the crisp snowfall.

“Red! Red, hey!”

Redwing let out a low groan as she was flipped on her back and shaken, eyes squeezed shut. “Am I dead?”

Robin was visibly relieved both at her consciousness and her ability to speak. “Nah, you can’t die just yet. It’s 12:06.”

January 2013

Jason.

Kevlar hands delicately cradled the sides of her neck before frosty, wet lips pressed into her rosy cheek. The sentiment continued across her face – on her forehead, nose, the corner of her lips. Some barely touched her flesh, overlapping with the edges of her mask or hair. Each word he spoke was punctuated with a loud peck.

“I - love - you - so - much.”

Redwing mustered the strength to softly tap his cheek with two soft pats. “Love you t-too. Good…save…” she wheezed, arm dropping back down and displacing some white fluff back into the air. If the fact that her whole body already hurt was any indicator, she was in for a world of hurt over the next few days. 

Robin allowed her a moment to gather herself before slipping his hands under her shoulders and forcing her to sit up. He moved to one knee, some joints cracking and popping at the effort, and wedged his arms under hers until the crooks of his elbows settled in her armpits.

“C’mon,” he ordered, rising to his full height, hoisting Redwing to her feet. He slung her good arm over his shoulder, adjusting until he found a comfortable position. “You have to get back to the Cave. The Batmobile’s right here.”

Immediately, her heels dug into the road. “Wait, Freeze–”

“B has it handled. You’re in no shape to fight. You need to go.”

“Mmm’kay…”

For once, she complied with his orders, feet dragging as he mostly carried her to the car. The driver’s door opened for them, and Robin took the utmost care in lowering his other half into the seat before swinging her legs in.

“Happy New Year, Rob.”

“Happy New Year, Red.”

.

.

.

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[trippygalaxy]

⛩️))

Hello there hope your okay with me explaining my oc information here**

Name :chime

Race: hyrulian/ mythical werewolf symbol of moon and old magic *watch God of war stuff*

Age: 20

Height: her height is about hyrule

Weight: don't comment it or ya be confused on how ya six feet in the ground

Eyes: lavender color

Skin: dark but not close to gerudo type

Hair: white and long it reach to her knees have bangs too

Voice: soft with a faint echo since she's deaf so dislike talking and lives deep in the woods that no people are but spirits

Fact: she a child of the first guardian of old ways both in god and magic she the rut in the litter so she's not much strong or powerful in a way like her silbings or parent but dont be fooled too much. she's deaf and need to read anyone lips to understand what their saying and she have strange markings on her skin and face. She have a wolf tail and wolf ears than hyrulian ears so she getting random pets by the chain but she doesn't mind since she can tell their stress or they need it so she let them. She have small fangs so twilight see her as a another cub too the little sister side so he protective of her.

She can turn to a giant wolf like beast at will to defend or fight since its more safe for her than in her hyrulian body.beans, she on the ran for her life since dark link trying to kill her and she have the full Triforce

Love internet: *I'm leaning her more to wild since that boyo needs something good in his live*

Personality: kind,quiet, curious bean, clam,loyal *once she understand and is rest with the chain*

Likes: hang with each chain * keep wind from starting trouble but that's only half success rate and keep hyrule from draining himself or he'll faint hard*, explore with wild,twilight.

Dislikes: monsters,goofy hands since those things are trouble and hunters

Weapons?: beast claws or magic

Chime thoughts on chain

Time: father

Warrior : doggo or Shepherd *German shepherd dog*

Twilight : brother wolf

Sky: cloud or birdie

Wind: trickster

Wild: cub or wild child

Four: colors brother(s) *she knows she see the colors in his eyes and how he's trying to be secretive of that even shadow but she treats them with kindness *

Hyrule: fairy king or fairy boy *due to both being in almost same situation and he carry lots of magic and she a sponge of magic*

Legend: bunny *she only call him that to lightly tease and seen him turn into a rabbit *

**Enjoy this short reference of chime^^ now to look for someone who can help draw her out**

:DD

Thank you for this! very interesting stuff here (and i love a good werewolf oc, they just so RAHHH ya know?)

Love wild as a love interest, the silent convos are gonna be PEAK!!

cant wait to see what you do next :DD

[lorewarden]

OC x Mother Koril: Part 4 - Meet the Crew

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) Koril is staring up a massive starship. The Purrgil is a BFF-1 bulk freighter - at 120 meters in length and 75 meters in width, it was an impressive sight, although it was several times smaller than the space-faring whales it was named after. Near the open cargo bay doors stands a lanky teenage Weequay girl barking orders at the loader droids. Five astromech droids are zooming across the ship's hull, conducting final pre-boarding scans. Hex, the Besalisk whom Koril recognizes from the cantina, is chatting with a serious Toydarian. Every few seconds he energetically waves one of his stocky arms and the Toydarian is forced to dodge it, his insect-like wings whirring frantically.

A distinctly human head pops through the doorway of the passengers' entrance, eyes darting around the hangar bay before settling on Koril.

“Hi!” Nita waves and motions her over. Koril strides towards her new acquaintance.

“Am I late?”

“Not at all. We still have a few things to wrap up before boarding, and the new people should be arriving soon.”

“I see. How can I help in the meantime?”

“You can keep a lookout. We are expecting a purple-skinned Trandoshan male and a blond, bearded human male”, Nita checks the holopad in her hand, “The names are Ki and Tanner, they're our new security.” She motions at the Toydarian, “And that's our Captain, Jhoram. You'll meet the others in a bit.”

Koril nods, and Nita disappears back into the ship.

Soon enough the two new crew members arrive. They exchange pleasant greetings with Koril and the three go to introduce themselves to Captain Jhoram. “Welcome, all,” he says throatily and shakes their hands. “I think we're all here now. Hestia, Ben-Dao, everythin' loaded?”

“Yes, sir!” the Weequay girl and a stocky Nikto chime in unison.

“Let's go,” Jhoram ushers the three onto the ship, through several winding hallways, and into a spacious room lined with tables and two entertainment modules. Several beings are already seated.

A Sullustan nods and booms “Head count! Rrik?” A miniscule Jawa in a faded black cloak chirps his confirmation.

“Hex?” “Here”, the Besalisk growls.

“Ben-Dao, Noum-Sing?” Two identical Nikto wave.

“Nita?” “Yes”, she responds in a clear voice.

“Hestia?” “Yes”, the teenager echoes.

“And these are our newcomers,” the Sullustan addresses the collective, “Koril, Ki, and Tanner.” The introduction is met with a general murmur of welcome. “My name is Garr, I'm the First Mate and Comms Officer on this ship. Come, I'll give you the tour. Nita, Hex, fire her up.”

“See you later,” Nita mouths to Koril, who smiles affirmatively.

Garr first shows them to the sleeping quarters, three tall rooms with bunk beds (“Chuck your bags in here for now”), then to the adjacent medbay, fully-stocked (“Just in case, just in case”, he reassures them), and to the comms room (“Nobody touches anything in here without my say-so. If you need to make a long-range transmission, you talk to me first.”)

“I didn't see any gun ports,” Ki hisses in clumsy Basic.

“That's because there are none”, Koril is suddenly alarmed, but Garr continues “The outer hull is strong enough to withstand a minor nuclear blast, and the shielding is 350 SBD.” Judging by Tanner's approving hum, this information should put her at ease. It doesn't.

“How many potential entry points?”, she asks.

“Three,” the First Mate responds, “But you should only be concerned with two. The one in the cargo bay is protected by an automated defense system, and anyone trying to go through there wouldn't dare to fire back or they'd risk damaging the cargo.”

He takes them to the middle of the ship and up a flight of stairs, into a long room with a low ceiling just beneath the thinner, inner hull. “They try to cut in from above...”

“And we pick them off one by one,” Koril finishes Tanner's thought.

“Just so,” Garr is clearly pleased.

The second point of entry is a cramped hallway towards the back of the ship, a mere 15 meters away from the engine room. She immediately determines this to be the priority. Take out the engines and we'll be dead in the water.

“That's pretty much it for now. You three have any questions, you come to me. Any problems, I'm your first stop – don't bother Captain Jhoram unless absolutely necessary. That understood?” An affirmative murmur. “Excellent. Let's get back to the others.”

As if on cue, the Captain's voice crackles from the intercom.

“Ladies and gentlebeings, please make your way to the common area and prepare for takeoff.”

End note: Which parts of the lore are you gonna use?

Me: Yes. NEXT CHAPTER

[cryptidblue1]

Reversal of Fate (It is Never Easy) pt 8

Chapter Title: Seen Fate, Rejected Fate

Chapter: 8/??? (Chapter Master List: Here )

Chapter Characters: Lavender (Pure Vessel), Basil (Lost Kin), Radiance in a way, mentions of Poppy (OC) mentions of Hegemol, Pale King, and unnamed vessels

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of body possession, panic state of mind, Lavender being in a bad mental state as they do. They are just not having a good day at all.

Chapter Summary: Fate does not lay quietly when it is set. It will fight one that wishes to challenge it. If you have the strength and will to do so.

Heknewheknewheknewheknewheknew.

It was a mantra that throbbed and shrieked alongside the burning of insides and the creaking shrieking of joints being tugged and pulled out of place, but not, because it was only the sensation as they say burning orange behind their ‘eyes’. They couldn’t think straight and just knew they needed to get away from him who would tell the King who would realize they were not empty and they had failed and their siblings would suffer for it. 

The sensation of falling registered just enough for them to curl completely around Basil sibling as they tipped and fell painfully onto roots and rock and dirt. Remaining there shivering and curled around the distressed chirping body of their sibling who did not know what was going on only that their bigger sibling was hurt and sad and there was danger.

Danger.

Oh, the sweet taint of Her was still so strong and the orange a haze in the very air. Something about this was wrong, but not that it was not meant to be, but that if it stayed something Horrible would happen. There, curled around Basil sibling and trying to remember how to move they suddenly Saw. They saw this sibling alone, wandering this place, but it was not Basil sibling. No, it was Sibling as they were in the dark and cold and safety of the void. Watched as a beast bloated and dripping with infection tore into their sibling, watched the blow that caved in their mask, the infection grasping onto their tiny and frail shade and devoured it. Watched the pus slither and ooze into the shell of this sibling. Watched and knew as Little Ghost, the one who had wandered and fought, and devoured a God for a them that was Sealed, found this gone sibling taken over and fought and let them rest.

Something in them knew.

This was the fate of Basil sibling. Even if they left, if they forbade them to ever roam this way again. Something would lead them here with their satchel of herbs and remedies, and their little nail more to cut a path in the thick of the wilds than to fight, would come somehow and die. She would take this sibling from them, would take so many of their siblings from them. Because that is all She wanted. To take and take that which was taken from Her, with no regard for those that had no say in what had happened. Their siblings did not ask for this, for Her hatred and the pain they would endure if this infection spread. They did not deserve to suffer because She had been forgotten.

They would not lose another sibling because of this FEUD. 

The chime of the rings that had always whirled and clicked in their chest since they had found themself out of sync with all they knew rang. Loud and echoing and something about it made them still and decide and remember. Remember the whispered questions of if they would accept one of their heart to be taken again.

They Refused.

Something made them grasp within their mind a thread weaving and winding around the rings in their chest. Saw all the ways dear Basil Sibling was meant to die from this infected area as they held it. Saw it and Rejected it.

The thread snapped and they knew nothing but pain.

It was as if they were Sealed again, full of infection and Her rage shrieking and clawing at the very void that made them whole. Burning and biting and changing them, corrupting them with the horrible horrible light that seethed and spit at the very essence of their being. It would drown their shadow out and leave nothing but orange tinted light to move and be used as She saw fit. If it won…

It couldn’t win.

They clawed and fought the sensation as they were meant to when they had been Sealed. To fight eternally against Her within the domain of their void and soul. Yet, they did not fight to contain. No, they fought and ripped and devoured that horrible light. Smothered it in the dark of their void where all light was destined to die, where all things were destined to return when the world stopped and all lights were gone. The cold of Void smothering the burning heat of that light, and for a brief brief moment they felt Her pause in the rage and will that had fueled the infection. For a brief moment they were the one that She feared as the hazy orange tint and overly sweet smell of infection grew fainter and fainter. Then with a sigh only they likely heard, it was if it never was in this patch of wild.

It was silent save the sounds of Basil sibling whispering in the link of them all SiblinghurtSiblingstaySiblingwakeup.

They ached in void and shell. The pain such they barely could think and just slowly, slowly curled even more around their Sibling and purred to show they were there. Such pain should have had void painting and staining everything around them. Poisoning the wild with the blackness of their weakening shade. Yet, there was no such wounds, just the aches of their body and the ever clinking chime of the rings in their chest marking time with each gentle tink.

How they got home was a haze of sensations and Basil Sibling leading and pleading with them to follow and be okay. They barely registered the worried babble of words from Poppy family as she fretted and helped move them into the nest that had just stayed since that first night she had led all of them here. Barely moved once laying curled and buried under blankets and pillows and the chirping worried bodies of precious siblings who for the moment were all safe, for the moment would not be taken by the burning orange light.

For a moment they let themselves just exist.

They knew deep down what they did, that the fact Knight Hegemol had seen them and been there, would change things. Knew as the panic that roiled and waited patiently for them to be able to feel it properly again, that they had to prepare, hide or run, or be ready to fight when the King took notice. When the King finds out the vessel they waited for was a failure, had left the Abyss without being told. A King that would now know that there were other vessels, others who would also fail. They had to prepare, to protect their siblings from the condemnation of a King they had never known that they still loved and feared, and wanted to make proud, but could never do so. 

So certain they were that the King they saw as wise and to follow, that they had failed would see them and know. Know exactly what they were and would turn away. They knew they would be hurt, they just had to make certain their siblings would not be hurt as well by the King they had wanted to please, so so much when they tried to be a Pure Vessel.

They had to act now, to protect their siblings from each light that had harmed them in those lives they lived and repeated so long ago.

[kapturkaptur]

kaptur try not to completely change a characters design every 2 minutes challenge (impossible)

[sea-1antern]

Octonauts OC: Dusk Sonare, He/They

I have many OCs but so far Dusk is the only one with a clear theme/design/coherent direction that I want to go with their character. They are also the most recent addition to my OCs.

He plays an archeologist role in the Octonauts universe and specializes in exploring tombs and unexposed ruins. They are a blind bat-eared fox that uses echo-location to get by; I gave him a dangling wind chime earring that alerts him to any changes in the wind and thus gives them time to prepare if they sense any drastic changes in the weather. He's very reserved and takes his work very seriously. They are a very prideful person and is proud of his work and takes the time to learn about the history of the places he's protected.

In-universe he is considered a pirate like Calico Jack and he often explores ruins to protect them from people with ill-intent towards them like grave robbers, raiders and private artifact collectors. I made them play an archeologist role mostly because I want him to be the kind of character that embodies the kind of pirates that I want to be in the show.

I have this whole pirate lore that I kinda made and I've been working on fleshing out. I'm not so sure on what I will make of it but Dusk and a lot of my OCs are products of this lore.

Basically in my pirate lore, they are kinda foils to how the Octonauts work (to explore, rescue and protect) with the only differences between the two being that pirates are not marine biologist and that pirates are not a unified group but rather a bunch if communities that are spread out across the globe. There are some pirates that exist with ill-intentions and some who are noble like Kwazii.

I try to corporate educational aspects into pirate lore because Octonauts is an educational show and I want them to fit the brand of the show.

I'll probably talk a bit more about my ideas for pirate lore in another post, but for now please enjoy my OC.

[miyalove]

 ⋆｡˚⁀➷ MY QUARANTINE. 

⤷ pairing. bokuto koutoro x gn!reader

⤷ genre. tooth-aching fluffly fluff, best friends to lovers, college au

⤷ warnings. oc insert (jamine). mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, clichés upon clichés, bo just being the absolute CUTEST, *unedited

2.6k | with the virus on the rise again, you decide that a lonely valentines day seems like the safest option, but bokuto has other plans.

“can you believe we’re gonna have to spend this month in quarantine, again?” a high pitch whine echoes through your laptop speaker. when you look over, jasmine (a close friend of yours) is slumped over her desk chair glaring at her ceiling.

“shouldn’t be that hard, though.” you nod at what konoha says.

“that’s what i was thinking too,” you add in. on your laptop screen are flashes of familiar faces. each one of them smile back at you, doing their own thing as well as keeping up with the virtual conversation. akaashi scribbles into a notebook for one of his classes while he speaks, “we’ve been quarantine for a couple months already. what’s another going to add?” 

it seems that you, akaashi, and konoha are the only ones that see eye to eye. you mentally debate in your head, nodding to his words. in the middle of your thoughts, a sharp whine cuts you out of it. 

“yeah, but this is different!” 

the sudden sound makes you jump. when you look back at the screen, bokuto’s face covers his side of the monitor. he’s up close to the camera so the most you can make out his is nose and big, piecing eyes. the weird angle makes you laugh.

“how is this so different, bokuto?” someone muses. you can’t focus on who though too caught up in the way your best friend whines to get everyone’s attention. it’s a cute habit that he hasn’t been able to break since middle school. for what it’s worth though, you think it just makes him all the more adorable. 

“this is a month of going out and being in love, guys!” he moves frantically. big beefy arms flailing around to further prove his point. his his bottom lip guts out, mocking some sniffles. “quarantine’s just gonna make valentines die!” 

“exactly what i’m saying!” jasmine pipes in again. she takes a big bit of her food before continuing her rant. as she speaks, a piece lettuce falls out of her mouth. across the screen, akaashi blatantly glares at her gross habits. konoha stifles a giggle and you can’t help but to join in on the teasing. seeing konoha’s body shake with silent laugher really got you. 

your friend is unbothered by the giggles though. 

“this is the month of love!” jasmine punctuates her statement with a loud slam to her desk. “we should be g-getting out and doing lovely dovely valentines day shit, right bo?!”  

swiftly, bokuto springs back to life, shaking his head in agreeance. his eyes are wide and filled with stars. he moves way too fast for his camera to pick up so a good majority of the time he speaks, his figure is lagged with pixelated squares. 

“jay get’s it! yeah, yeah!” his glitched out figure suddenly appears further in the back of his room now. his fully body is on display and pixelated or not, you can still make out the way his defined thighs flex while he moves. “you’re supposed to be out and doing all the cute couple stuff!”

“but what if--”

“--and even if we’re not a couple, you can still do things like that! there’s stuff like... platonic love.” the last few words get cut off but you’re able to connect the dots. the way bokuto so proudly voices his thoughts without any doubt is a trait you admire. he means what he says and he says what he means. it’s really as simple as that. if only you could do the same. your shoulders fall at the thought.

you quickly snap out of your funk though. you’re in a call with all your closest friends, they’d notice a change in your demeanor in seconds. shaking your head to rid of any lingering thoughts, you stifle out a cackle. 

“well, platonic or not.” you perk up. “it still seems like a lonely valentines day is an order for everyone.” 

your friends nod despite jasmine’s grumbling. you don’t notice the way bokuto sighs. his brows are scrunched and lips are pressed into a thin line. determination glows within his hues. he’s a little irate how everyone was shoving the topic aside, but most importantly, he’s a little sad that you’re going to have to spend this valentines day all alone!

he’s known you for years and the fact that you’re alright with spending the day of love all to yourself? when you have him right there with you just waiting for your call? it’s personally heartbreaking. 

okay maybe he’s more than a little sad. 

besides the constant buzzing from all your friends spamming the group chat. you spent most of your valentines lounging around your home, just like you had promised. your hair is loose, messy and untamed. it matches the outfit your wearing that’s just perfect for simply relaxing. during the morning, you made yourself a quick breakfast. in the afternoon, lunch and a nice bath was the agenda. now in the evening, you’re settled in your living room while netflix’s latest rom-com plays in the background. 

you don’t really know what’s happening or who these characters are but today’s the day of love so why not celebrate it with a bottle of wine and imaging you and bokuto as the main leads of some stupid flick.

you’re in the middle of pouring another glass when your phone chimes with a special ringtone you set for someone special to you. it immediately catches your attention. you feel your heart shake and you know it’s not because of the alcohol.

the fluttering in your tummy seems to spread with the stupid nickname. you let the movie play in the background while you send him a quick response.

your phone chimes with another texts while barely had time to put it down.

before you can say anything back, a knock at the door interrupts your focus. mindlessly, you make your way to the door. when you open it, you expect to see someone (maybe even bokuto), but instead you’re meet with a big, bright red box sitting on your doormat. 

with the bright red wrapping and the comically large bow right on top, you simply can’t miss it. the box is big enough where you have to hold it with two hands in fear of dropping it. it’s heavy too and when you shift it slightly, whatever’s inside rattles. to top it all off, there’s no label or tag or anything that indicates this package is specifically for you. your brows crinkle. confusion pressed deep within your worried frown.

your hues trace the halls of your complex looking for someone, anyone to explain this random comeuppance. you weren’t expecting any packages. so what is this all about? something inside you tells you to leave it alone. your mail man doesn’t deliver packages at 6 o’clock at night so it can’t be that. is it possible that this was misplaced? you would feel horrible if this was some kind of surprise for a lover and their partner had gotten the buildings wrong. 

your phone vibrates in your pocket and for now, you decide to put the mystery package on hold. the special ringtone you set for a specific cutie makes your nerves jump in it’s confines. placing your glass down, the wine is long forgotten.

“hey, bo,” you great him with a smile once the call goes through.

“hey there, bun,” his grin falters a bit. it’s alarming how fast you can tell something is wrong. bokuto’s always been every expressive but still you’re able to read him like an open book in a matter of milliseconds. your connection goes as far as silent cues too. when he slumps his shoulders or pouts his lips during a test. he sighs differently when he’s shocked by wonder or sadness.

it’s the same with you to him. bokuto, despite popular belief, is so good at keeping up his friends cues. he’s able to read mood changes and tries his very best to cheer up the people he loves if he ever catches them slipping. he’ll even go as far as making a fool out of himself just to see that special person smile.

bokuto koutaro is a shining star and you’re beyond happy he’s in your reach.

“everything alright?” it’s a question that has him conflicted. you can tell from the whirl wind of emotions that were set off as you spoke. his brows are scrunched in concern, his bites at his bottom lip (which in any other case would be sexy), and most worrying, he’s not as cheery as usual. he seems tense and nervous. 

“bokuto?”

“ahh!” it comes out as an anxious sigh, “i was just thinking, is all!” his hands shoot up in a defensive position. it doesn’t take him long to start explaining.

“i was calling ‘cause you said you’d be lonely today and i didn’t want ya’ feeling like you weren’t loved, (y/n),” he’s looking away now. golden hues finding the floor or ceiling far more interesting. one of his hands comes to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit you picked up on.

the way he shyly smiles, so unlike himself, makes your chest heavy. the rapid beating of your heart shakes your ribcage. i didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t loved. he loves you. your conclusion feeds into he butterfly wings that tickle your stomach. he’s so adorable. the way he looks at you makes you want to kiss that conflicted little pout right off his stupidly gorgeous face.

“that’s real sweet of you, kou.” you smile up at him. grabbing at the box, you tuck it under your arm as you make your way to your living room. when you seat down on the sofa, the light conversation with bokuto takes a turn.

“so...”

“so?”

he can’t help the light chuckle that escapes him. “did you... find anything on your porch today?”

“yes... actually.” cautiously, you eye the box that’s been propped up as a temporary phone stand. “was it from-”

“did you- did you open it?” 

suddenly the last texts he sent makes sense now. the way he called you so shyly and played it off as best as possible. the nervous ticks that you don’t usually see when you talk. the glimpse of hope that maybe- just maybe, bokuto would come sweeping you off your feet this valentines day.

“not yet.” a bright teasing smile over takes your features as you say your next word, “why?” 

on the other side of the screen, bokuto’s cheeks flare up. the redness traveling past his neck and nips at the tip of his ears. you’re not an idiot. if he was the one that knew the box was there- then of course, it’s from him. without second guessing, you shift your phone propping it against a lone candle centered on your coffee table. 

you waste no time ripping into the wrapping paper and unboxing the goods inside. bokuto watches attentively. his eyes sparkle with excitement and a toothy grin takes over him as he leans towards the camera, trying his greatest to get the best angle possible. bokuto looks like a puppy excitedly waiting for their owner to come home. the anticipation is killing him.

shoving the tissues paper aside, you note the heart shaped confetti that the box is littered with. it’s a cute touch but the mess it’ll create as you take each item out has you holding back a laugh.

of course, bokuto notices. “what that all about?” you can see the upturn of his lips even without looking at him. it’s practically etched into your brain (and you wouldn’t have it any other way). 

“what’s what all about?” you dust off your hands, the glitter sticking to anything and everything. another giggle escapes you while you try to confide the mess as best as possible.

“all that laughing!” he sulks out. in your peripheral, you see him pull a face. bottom lip gutting out and big golden hues growing impossibly bigger. “i wanna know what’s so fuuuunny!” 

it’s too much. the way the box messes just like him. the way hearts are practically glowing within his iris. the way your heart trembles with each playful teasing, every kissable pout, and little shy glimmers. with every drawn out compliant and booming laughter that shakes your whole body. you just can’t keep a straight face with bokuto. no matter how hard you tried.

“i’m laughing at you, silly!” it’s a sudden response that has him bending over in a joyous fit of guffaw too. it’s the kind of laugh you hear from afar but know exactly who it is. each item you pull out, bokuto tells a small story about why he got it. despite knowing him for years, you hadn’t known how sentimental he was. the same memories you played on repeat so late at night where the same ones he dreamed about. the thought makes you beam impossibly brighter somehow feeling impossibly lighter.

you unwrap a bracelet with a paper plane charm on it. “for when you told me you wanted to travel the world!” he beams. “wherever you go, you can add a charm thingy to it!”

latching the jewelry, it’s a perfect fit. the metal tingles at your skin with how cold the metal is. it makes you thing of how warm bokuto’s hands are and how he’d gladly help warm you up. reaching in more, there’s a bag of all your favorite treats, gift cards to your favorite restaurants and boba shops. pairs upon pairs of fuzzy socks (”i know how cold you can get! so i wanted to do somethin about that!”) with cute little comics and characters on it. there’s candles with your favorite scents laced into the wax. 

“oh my god. this is--” you’re speechless. “you’re amazing, kou. really this is just... amazing.”

it is in this moment, when the sun has finally set and low quality of the call perfectly captures his ethereal presence and beaming smile. the way pure admiration and warmth radiate off of him even through your phone screen makes you realize one thing. sure you’ve liked bokuto koutaro but... oh boy are you in for it now.

“amazing valentines for an amazing person.” you curse at the heat that spreads up your neck. he’s too sweet. too considerate. too... perfect.

rummaging through the wrapping, your hand hits one last thing in the box. you feel the petals first. it’s smooth under your touch. velvety with each on you pick at. the steam is the opposite, rough at the touch. some thorns hadn’t been cut properly so if you grabbed it fast enough, you would have gotten pricked.

“a single rose?” you eye the flower. the petals colored a fiery red that matches the way bokuto blushes. 

“yeah! it’s nice, right? i figured putting a buncha flowers in the box would be a little hard to get around so i opted for the better option. then again, i could have just... put it on top of the box, huh.”

“kou?” you try to cut into his rambling. 

“but then someone could’ve taken it, i suppose. then this while thing would have been ruined! and now you’re probably asking ��well what thing would have been ruined. kou?’ i’m glad you asked!”

you didn’t but maybe saying that’ll ruin the moment that he so obviously worked hard to get to. the rambling he’s been doing for the past minute is a big indicator that he’s coming to a conclusion. swallowing down your laughter, your expression crinkles in question.

“i guess what i’m trying to say, bun, is... will you be my quarantine?” 

you would be stupid to say no.

[iironwreath]

oc sound associations

cihro: soft rain, gravel underfoot, a dagger being drawn

iona: wind chimes, a small stream, large trees creaking in the wind, ‘thwack’ of a target struck by an arrow

surina: ice cracking, the insulated silence that snow brings, moving paper, a bear’s roar

genevieve: a dog baying or growling, children on a playground, bone crunching

crow: a murder of crows cawing (duh), glass shattering, a cello

andesine: haha lightsaber go brr, wind blowing through tall grass, an incoming train

union: fire crackling, footsteps echoing in a large space

ada: gunshots, ocean waves, blowing a kiss, a sail flapping

koda: cows and sheep, a harmonica, music string breaking, displaced ‘woosh’ of air when you’re narrowly missed by something

cadiana: distant thunder, swords clashing; heavy, marching footsteps, drums

redback: ship bell tolling, seagulls, bubbles underwater when you submerge, wood being chopped

nepenthe: nails on a chalkboard, a large, heavy door creaking open, skittering

vesuria: a singing bowl, forge bellows, the weighted sound of a punch or kick

[betweenallthestars]

DAY ONE: Stargazing with Sebastian Wynric (Speaker)

Thank you to Rhi Reid for the amazing story and <3 just for being super cool

I hope you don’t mind that it was in Seb’s POV! I don’t know if I captured him perfectly but I really liked writing it ><

WORD COUNT: 700 words

===

DAY ONE: “stargazing”

Sebastian Wynric (OC from @speakergame​ by Rhi Reid) X Zylia Miller (own OC)

===

“Hi.”

Sebastian furrows his brows, his heart fluttering. Her voice twinkles, like wind chimes tinkling in a soft summer breeze. The static on the phone slightly muffling her sweet—

He shakes his head, frowning. Now isn’t the time to focus on her voice.

“Sebastian?”

Even if he wonders how it sounds whispered in his ears.

“Sorry, something wrong?” He asks. He doesn’t know why his stomach twists; doesn’t know why he can’t stop the gnawing feeling and how his teeth grind together. She must be in trouble, but she… she doesn’t sound distressed, hurt or anything—

Sebastian stops pacing. Is he worried?

“Oh,” her laughter flitters around him, and a sigh of relief escapes him.

Thank god, she’s okay.

“No, no. I was actually just wondering if…”

There are murmurs in the background, he swears it sounds akin to Gwendolyn’s voice. He takes it back, he’s back to worrying again. Why did she call? Did something happen?

A gulp of breath.

On both their ends.

“Are you okay—” His question stops as their voices overlaps.

“—You wanted to stargaze with me?”

He doesn’t think the butterflies in his stomach has ever fluttered this much before. Doesn’t think that his smile has been this wide, granted, it wasn’t much but it seemed like a smile. More of a smile than his half-smiles.

“You don’t have to, of course, it’s only if you want to—”

“Where do I meet you?”

Incredulous laughter filters from the other end of the phone, “Wait really?”

He hums.

“Meet me at my house in 20?”

The edges of his eyes crinkle, “I’ll see you soon, Zylia.”

---

He fidgets. He doesn’t know if this counts as a date. He doesn’t know if he should have dressed up more, doesn’t know if his hair looks alright. Oh, he hopes he looks okay.

Some part of him really hopes this is a date. He bought her something anyways.

Sebastian remembered her choice of coffee. It doesn’t really count as coffee, since it smells really sweet and there’s probably only one drop of coffee in the drink, but he won’t fuss. Not out loud.

Wait, what if he got it wrong—

The door opens before he could even attempt to turn around.

She stands there, in front of him, and he swears he has never seen anyone so beautiful. She looks like an angel, with the edges of her brown locks turning golden in the light.

“H-hey,” Her face looks cute when it’s flushed, the dimples in her cheeks making his hands all clammy.

Her outfit looks good today. Like it always does. The slip dress could tear the evening blue sky apart, it’s pinpricks of gold like the stars that scatter the sky. He doesn’t shiver because of the cold.

Sebastian thinks it’s something else entirely.

“Goodness, why’re you guys taking so long?” A series of chuckles echo from the inside.

Zylia rolls her eyes, “Come on in.”

“I grabbed you something.” Sebastian passes her the cup of (not) coffee. He almost wants to chuckle at how adorable she looks with her eyes lit up like that. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, taking the drink. The warmth stays for a beat longer, and her face flushes as she pulls away.

He really is looking forward to tonight.

---

Silence sits between them as they gaze at the stars.

He doesn’t know what looks more beautiful; the girl beside him or the stars before them. A shiver runs throughout his body, as warmth brushes against his fingers.

His heart splutters. Surely—

“Look, Seb-Sebastian! It’s a shooting star!” Her smile is wide, eyes sparkling like morning dew.

“Make a wish,” he murmurs, gaze soft as he watches her lashes dip into her cheeks.

And slowly, one by one, their fingers intertwine.

His gaze stammers, eyes fixated on their now intertwined fingers.

Zylia’s hands are soft. Incredibly so, and all he wants to do is trace constellations onto her skin. A soft smile dances on her lips as she brushes her fingers across his wrist. He melts at the touch, warmth seeping into his cheeks.

The night feels special, and his heart squeezes as she leans onto his shoulder.

===

CONTEXT:

Basically, I wanted to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, but I didn’t want to do it for a story (because to be honest, I don’t think I’d have enough time). So! I made my own list of NaNoWriMo daily challenges/prompts (If you guys want the list, I can post it or dm me! :) ).

My target word count for each day is around 500-1000 words min.

And I recently fell in love with the @speakergame​ by Rhi Reid (and consequently, Seb and Li) so I wanted my first prompt “stargazing” to be on my character and Seb!