#other than that it's just a bad head cold now

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

[twirlyleafs]

Falling apart, together.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: part 2 to Falling apart, alone. Landos still struggling, but maybe he’s willing to accept the support?

TW: bad mental health

Notes: thank you so much for the response on the first part!! xx

~~~~

That night the house felt impossible quiet. P held you tightly for what felt like forever, her hands running soothingly up and down your back. The tension lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest. Max sat across from where you curled up against his girlfriend, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, face contorted in frustration. No one said anything for what felt like forever, each one of you too deep in your own spiraling minds, until the sound of movement in the kitchen cut through the silence. The following sound of the front door opening had all of you freeze, breaths caught in your throats. No one moved, not until the low rumble of the car engine filled the space. Your stomach sank as you heard the car pull out of the driveway, the sound growing fainter until it disappeared. With it Lando. You didn’t dare look up at P or Max, afraid that the emotions on their faces matched what you were feeling too. Pietra was the first to move, her grip on you loosening as she instead dragged her hand through your curls. Max sat stiffly, hands now clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

”Fuck.” Max muttered, voice thick. ”Fuck I- I should’ve stopped him. Should I have stopped him? From leaving?” At the anguish in his voice you lifted your head, pulling away slowly from Pietra. Max looked at you, searching for an answer, and you carefully shook your head.

“I don’t think that would’ve made it better.”

”If he wanted to leave he would’ve left anyway, maybe only more upset.” Pietra agreed and you nodded again. Max stared at the two of you for a moment before he nodded too. Once again silence settled between you. Eventually the weight of the evening became too much to bear and you forced yourselves to move, even though none of you really wanted. All of you paused in the hallway and Pietra wrapped you up in her arms, ensuring you everything would be okay, before she slipped into hers and Maxs shared bedroom. Max paused before following her, eyes lingering on you. Eventually he reached an arm out, snaking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest.

”We’ll get through to him. I promise.” The promise was nice but his voice was heavy with concern and guilt. ”I just, I’m glad I’m not alone this time. I’m glad he has you, too.”

The bed felt cold and almost foreign as you crawled in under the covers. The loneliness was bad on its own already but the faint trace of Landos scent on the pillow had your chest ache. Reaching for your phone you swallowed harshly, desperate to keep the pressing tears at bay to be able to see your screen clearly. You wrote out the text, hesitating for only a moment before hitting send. Seeing the text go through gave you a bit of relief and despite not expecting a response you at least knew you had done everything you could. After a final glance at the text you let out a deep breath, locking your phone before curling up on his pillow.

Be safe. I love you.

The night dragged on and with every passing moment you longed more and more for sleep, even though it felt very far away. You were alert, hearing the sound of the car coming back even before it pulled to a stop. Staying completely still, barely breathing, you listened to Lando opening and closing the front door. You curled tighter into yourself, straining to pick out every sound. He didn’t come upstairs right away, instead there was the faint creak of floorboards and the soft clink of something in the kitchen. Your mind started to race, what was he doing down there? Minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the other until suddenly, silence. The absence of sound made your chest tighten. Was he staying down there? You desperately wanted, needed, to see him. See that he was okay. But you were afraid you’d scare him away again if you went looking. Although, the thought of him sitting alone down with only his own mind as company had you want to cry again. Pressing your eyes shut you clutched the duvet. Just as you were starting to convince yourself that he wouldn’t come the softest creak of the bedroom door broke through the room. Your heart jumped, the lump in your throat growing, but you stayed completely still. You felt more than heard his movements, the mattress dipping gently under his weight as he sat down on the edge. Lando stayed there for a moment, sitting in complete silence as if he was preparing himself while you stayed with your back turned towards him. You knew he could tell you were awake but you didn’t dare say anything, involuntarily treating him like a scared animal. Finally he shifted, slipping in beneath the covers with careful and deliberate motions. Everything seemed to move in slowmotion and once again it felt like forever with nothing. Not a sound, not a move. Then suddenly you felt it. The softest touch of his fingertips against the back of your arm, so light you thought you might’ve imagined it if it wasn’t for the way your whole body shivered. The touch was tentative, making it clear he was just as scared as you were, but it was enough. It was an apology without words, a plea for comfort he couldn’t quite get out in words yet. You turned slowly, your gaze meeting his in the darkness. His eyes were red-rimmed, probably matching yours, and you could see the tension in his brows. Jaw. Shoulders. The vulnerability in his posture was unmistakable. Without another thought you reached out, carefully stroking a curl from his face. You could hear his breath hitch and for a few seconds you both stayed frozen until he finally let out a shaky breath. A moment later he was leaning in, his body curling against yours with a desperation that made your chest ache. Lando practically clung to you, and you did your best to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Keeping him safe. Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft curls, and his grip on you only tightened. As if he was afraid you might pull away.

”I’m not going anywhere baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against his skin, and you felt his uneven breath against your neck. He didn’t cry, but the tremor in his exhales told you enough. This wasn’t the strong, playful and confident Lando you were used to. This was the part of him he rarely showed, the part that felt small and lost. The part that desperately wanted help but couldn’t ask for it. As you pressed your lips to his temple you felt him sink deeper into your embrace, body slowly relaxing at least a bit. You didn’t speak more, didn’t need to. Instead you just held him, offering the safety you knew he needed. Offering to remove some of the weight he constantly put on his own shoulders. You didn’t need to fix him, you just needed to promise him he wouldn’t have to face anything alone. Ever.

—————————

You stirred awake to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, pressing your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t want to wake up, not yet, the exhaustion from yesterday still lingering. Instinctively you reached for him, fingers only finding the coldness off the empty mattress and immediately making your stomach sink. He was gone. Turning around you laid there for a while, staring at the empty slot next to you where Lando had been. He had, right? He had come home in the middle of the night, you couldn’t have imagined the way he clung to you. Right? You took your time getting up, dragging yourself through the routines of the morning before slowly making your way downstairs. When you entered the kitchen Pietra and Max were already there. P sat at the kitchen bar, nursing her coffee, while Max leaned against the counter. Both their heads snapped up to look at you, concern and curiosity clear on their faces.

”Did you see him?” Max cut straight to the chase, obviously having heard as Lando came back in the middle of the night too. You nodded softly, accepted the cup he offered you. Staring down into it you sighed.

”Yeah. I didn’t think he would come to bed but he did. He-” you paused, feeling almost bad for spilling your intimate moment with Lando but also knowing Max needed the reassurance. He deserved to know, needed to know Lando was if not doing better at least not pushing you away as harshly. ”He let me hold him. We didn’t talk but-” you trailed off when you met Maxs gaze, a mixture of relief and sadness.

”Good. That’s good.”

”He’s out running now. I met him on his way out.” Pietra explained. You nodded but didn’t respond, the words lodging somewhere in your throat. Despite the nights small victory yesterday’s tension lingered in the air, heavy and almost suffocating, and none of you said anything else after that. Together you filtered out on the back porch, breakfast plates in hand, and settled into the soft lounge furniture. The view was beautiful, sunlight spilling over the hills beyond the garden, the distant sound of birds chirping, the water in the small pond glistening. It all felt somehow muted though. You picked at your food, mostly pushing it around on your plate. P occasionally shot you a glance, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The second Max was finished with his breakfast he’d wandered down towards the pond, saying something about needing some time alone, and was now sprawled out on the grass letting the sun warm his body. You felt for him. He’d been through this before, although not as bad as now, and you could see the toll it took on him to constantly worry about Lando. He’d been his protector for years, since they were kids, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him always sticking around. You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t noticed the door sliding open, not realizing Lando was joining you until he slowly sank down in the couch opposite you. His hair was damp, probably fresh out of the shower, and curling in soft swirls over his forehead. You could tell he was nervous, uncomfortable, by the way he didn’t relax into the chair like he normally would. Instead his posture was stiff and uncertain as his eyes flickered between you and Pietra. P watched him for a moment before she stood.

”I’ll go and keep Max company.” Neither you nor Lando answered but you saw the way he tried to offer her a grateful smile when she passed him. P paused for just a second, letting her hand land on his shoulder before she disappeared down into the garden. The gesture was light, quick, but meaningful and you felt your heart swell at the sight. The warm feeling in your chest was brief, quickly replaced by a sense of worry again when Lando slowly met your gaze across the table. He shifted in his seat, fingers restlessly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. You didn’t push him. Finally he exhaled, voice quiet but clear as he spoke.

”I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard, letting the words settle between you before speaking up. Your own voice was soft, careful as not to frighten him.

”Do you want to talk about it?” He hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shorts as his eyes flickered away from your face for a moment. His jaw clenched and you almost feared he might retreat entirely, shutting down the conversation before it even began, but then he nodded.

”I don’t want to,” he admitted reluctantly. ”But I know I probably should.” You didn’t answer, giving him space to find his own words. He stared down at the coffee table for a moment, gaze distant, before he carefully began to speak again. ”It’s hard to explain, I guess. I feel like there’s this…pressure, all the time. Like I can’t stop, can’t slow down. If I do…” he trailed off, shaking his head is if he regretted his words. You shifted in your chair, letting your feet drop down on the floor so you could lean forward. Lando met your gaze again and you offered an encouraging nod. With a deep breath he continued. ”It’s, I guess it feels like I’m constantly running on a treadmill and no matter how fast I go it’s never enough. There’s always more to prove, more people to please, more to do. If I stop…” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. ”If I stop everything will fall apart.” Your heart ached at the rawness of his confession, of the pain and fear on his face.

”You feel like you’re carrying everything on your own?” You offered gently, hoping to help him untangle his thoughts. Lando nodded slowly before shaking his head.

”Yeah, and I know that’s stupid because I know I have people…both at work and, you know. I have Max, mom and dad, you.” His voice softened at the last word, letting it linger for a moment. ”I know that but I can’t shake this feeling that I’m falling and that you can’t…” Once again he trailed of and you could tell he felt guilty, guilty for letting all off this spill. With a deep breath you pushed yourself up on your feet, Landos head immediately snapping up to watch you. For a second he looked scared, probably because he thought you were leaving, but then his face softened when you rounded the table to where he sat.

”Can I?” You asked quietly, nodding next to him in the couch. He nodded, trailing you as you sank down. When you reached out to lay a hand on his knee he quickly wrapped his own around it, squeezing it gently. Flipping your hand you let your fingers intertwine with his. ”Lando.” you began softly, watching him as he watched your hands. ”You don’t have to do this alone. I know it feels like everything is on you, and a lot is, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, not to fix anything but to help you deal with it. Especially when it gets too much.” Lando let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping.

”I don’t know how to let go. I don’t- I’m not good at asking for help. And I don’t want to bring you down with this stuff, it’s-”

”Lando that’s where you’re thinking wrong. You don’t bring me down, or any of us. We want to help, to support you. That’s what you do with people you love, you help each other and you’re there for each other.” Finally he lifted his head, eyes glassy and filled with a vulnerability you wished he showed more often.

”I just don’t know how.” His voice was thick with emotion.

”That’s okay. You’re trying, and that’s more than enough for now. One step at a time.” You leaned closer to him, lifting your free hand to stroke some curls away from his forehead, fingers trailing down his cheek. Lando stared at you for a while and you could see the turmoil behind his eyes, fear and anxiety mixing with the urge to let you in. Finally you saw something shift, his face softened and he forced himself to nod slowly. It was small, but it felt monumental. A few moments later Lando sat leaned back in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you curled up against his chest. The silence settled around you again but it wasn’t suffocating like earlier. Now it felt hopeful, like some sort of new start. Landos fingers found your arm, tracing soft, aimless patterns. For him the touch was grounding, a way to anchor himself even when his thoughts were scattered. For you it was a constant reminder that he was still here, not completely shutting you out. When you finally spoke your voice was soft, almost tentative, but with a firmness born out of both love and concern.

”You know Max isn’t angry with you.” His fingers seized their movements and you heart ached when you heard him inhale sharply. Tilting your head slightly you could see his jaw tensing, but he didn’t respond. ”But I still think you owe him an apology. Not for being upset but…” you trailed off as Lando began to nod.

”For what I said. I know.” He exhaled, shifting to sit straighter while also not pulling away completely. His voice was low and strained, filled to the brim with regret. ”I’ve been feeling awful about it since it happened. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it. The words just came out before I could stop them and I- fuck.”

”I know you didn’t mean it. So does Max. But it still hurt him.” When Lando only nodded, his arms slipping from you so he could lean forward with his elbows on his knees, you sighed softly. Leaning forward you gently rested your hand on his back and when he didn’t pull away you moved to lean your cheek against it too. ”It’s not about blaming yourself Lando, it’s just about making it right. Max loves you, he wants to be there for you, you just have to meet him halfway. Like you’re trying with me.” He stayed quiet for a moment but didn’t pull away as your hand traced patterns along his back. Finally he spoke, still shaky but with more determination.

”Okay. Yeah.” For a while he stayed still, collecting his thoughts, and then with a deep breath he stood. You let him go, watching as he trudged down across the garden toward where Max was stretched out on a towel. Your eyes stayed fixed on them as Lando stopped by Max, saying something you couldn’t hear, shoulders hunched in vulnerability as Max sat up. A beat later Max nodded and got to his feet, the two of them trudging further down the lawn towards the small pond together. You barely noticed P come and sit down next to you, only reacting when she spoke up.

”What’s going on?”

”Lando is apologizing.” She just hummed, shuffling closer to you until your arms were touching. Then you just sat there, observing the two men by the pond. Lando’s head was slightly bowed, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Max stood with his arms crossed, listening intently. The conversation stretched on, and you could see the emotions flowing between them, the occasional nods, the way Max shifted his weight thoughtfully. Then, sudden enough for you to inhale sharply, Max reached out to grasp Lando’s shoulder firmly. A moment later Max pulled him into a hug and you thought you might start crying again as you watched Lando cling to his best friend. You tore your gaze away from them when you heard P sniff beside you, turning to look at her.

”They’ll be okay. We all will be.” She offered softly and for the first time in a while you felt relief flood your body. Nodding you felt your lips curl into the first real smile since before all of this.

”Yeah. We will.”

[thatpieceoftrash]

I see my reflection in your eyes

Malleus x reader

WC: 833

In which you try to bring Malleus comfort in any way you can.

You’re not exactly sure how all of this started. Was it the way his voice turned more cheerful? Or maybe it was the longing look in his eyes when he spoke of it (one you were well too acquainted with).

In the end you supposed it wouldn't matter what the reason was, you had something to look forward to, and what you hoped would be a nice gift for a friend, who more than deserved it.

So, the next day after classes and dealing with whatever trouble Grim decided to cause that day, you found yourself in Sam’s shop looking for the (less than)perfect tools, given that you had to work with the small allowance Crowley gave you, In his “benevolence “, as he liked to call it.

“If it isn’t the prefect! What can I do for you? Although I already heard from my friends on the other side that you want to prepare something special for a certain someone.” Sam said with that knowing smile of his.

‘Of course he already knows, it’s like he has ghosts who work as spies for him. Actually maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea for your own ghosts…’

“It's not like you make it out to be, this is a gesture for friendship appreciation” you said, rolling your eyes, even though you knew deep down it was something more than that.

“Whatever you say, little imp” but you didn’t miss the teasing tone his words carried.

You were so excited for this project of yours, that upon returning from Sam’s you didn’t even bother changing out of your uniform, getting started with the task at hand.

Man, and what a task it was going to be. The ramshackle garden was last tended to probably when the wheel was invented . No matter, the state of the dorm never stopped you from achieving your goal, perhaps delayed it a tiny bit, nothing more.

Working with the mud in already freezing conditions was another hell itself, you were pretty sure you touched some weird magical worm, as if normal ones weren’t already bad enough. But imagining the smile on your friend’s face was enough to make you go back to work.

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started, although the little group of fireflies surrounding you was a telltale sign that your friend decided to pay you a visit , which only happened at night.

‘Just in time’ you thought to yourself as you turned around and faced the horned visitor.

“Tsunotaro! You’re here at the perfect time.” You chirped, walking up to him with a smile.

“Good evening, child of man”, he greeted, returning your smile, with his own, although his had a hint of mischief in it, “you seem rather excited, did something happen?”

“Something like that, I wanna show you something I think you’ll like.” And then you stepped out of the way to give him a full view of the little colourful corner that now took residence in your garden. You looked up at him to try and gouge his expression, his eyes widened a little, however his smile was completely gone.

‘Uh-oh, did he not like it?! Of course he wouldn't, you idiot!, he’s a prince and these dumb flowers were probably nothing in comparison to his royal garden’

“If you don’t like it, I completely understand, it’s nothing special and-“ but before you could finish your sentence, you heard a joyous laugh coming from Malleus, startled you looked up only to see him staring at the roses in front of him.

“Truly, you are a most interesting human, did you do all this for me?” And he finally turned to look at you.

“Well, every time you talked about your rose garden back at home, you got this faraway look in your eyes, like you’re longing for something”, you said lowering your head in embarrassment, “I know homesickness better than anyone, Tsunotaro. So I was hoping these flowers would make you feel a bit better. “

And then you felt cold fingers on your chin tilting your head upwards, all you could see was beautiful emerald green eyes, which held such a fond look and utter adoration in them, you could hardly believe the recipient was you.

“There is no need to be ashamed ", he said softly. “To think you would be so perceptive to feelings I wasn’t even aware of having, and what’s more, you were kind enough to offer me a piece of comfort in your own home. The roses are lovely, and so are you, my dear child of man. You have my gratitude for this gift” And if you didn’t melt at those words, you sure did at the chaste kiss he placed on your cheek.

“I’m happy you like it, come one, let me give you a closer look!” And with cheeks matching the colour of the red roses, you took his hand in yours and walked towards your own little garden of bliss.

[sofiasworld00]

The Wedding Bells of December

Harry Lewis x reader

Summary: Harry and reader at Ethan and Faiths wedding where one thing leads to another and the night ends with an engagement.

Warnings: mostly fluff, steamy stuff(not smut)

Word count: 3k (ish)

The frosty December air bit at your skin as you stood beside Harry Lewis, his arm wrapped around your waist, providing warmth and comfort against the chill. Ethan and Faith’s wedding was a grand affair, held at a picturesque venue decorated with fairy lights, candles, and an abundance of white and gold accents. Snow fell gently outside the massive glass windows, creating a perfect winter wonderland that felt more like a dream than reality.

Harry looked dapper in his tailored suit, the navy material hugging his broad shoulders perfectly. His usual cheeky demeanor was replaced with a calm, almost reflective energy as he held you close. You stole a glance at him, his face slightly flushed from the cold, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion as he gazed at the newlyweds exchanging vows.

The moment Ethan spoke his heartfelt promises to Faith, you felt Harry’s grip on your hand tighten. He turned to look at you, his lips quirking into a small smile, but you could see the telltale glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you whispered softly, your voice almost lost in the soft hum of the ceremony.

Harry nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a little rough. “Just thinking.”

You knew what he meant. The two of you had been together for years now, building a life full of love, laughter, and shared dreams. Ethan and Faith’s wedding wasn’t just a celebration of their love—it was a mirror reflecting everything you and Harry had built together and everything you had yet to experience.

The Reception

The reception was nothing short of magical. The hall was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Harry was by your side, his hand never leaving yours as you mingled with the other Sidemen and their partners.

Vik and Tobi were the first to greet you both, their excitement infectious as they praised how stunning you looked. “Harry, mate, you’ve outdone yourself,” Tobi teased, winking at you. “She’s way too good for you.”

Harry laughed, pulling you closer. “Don’t I know it?”

As the night wore on, you danced under the soft glow of chandeliers, the sound of live music filling the air. Harry wasn’t much of a dancer—he often joked that his limbs were too long and gangly for it—but tonight, he made an exception. He held you close as the band played a slow song, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I don’t say it enough, but you are.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re not too bad yourself, Lewis.”

He chuckled, his laughter vibrating against your chest. “I’m serious. Watching Ethan and Faith today… it’s made me think about us. About how much I love you.”

Your throat tightened, emotions bubbling to the surface. “I love you too, Harry. So much.”

The Speeches

When it was Harry’s turn to speak, you felt a surge of pride and nerves for him. He wasn’t one to enjoy public speaking, but Ethan had asked him to be one of the best men, and Harry had accepted without hesitation.

He stood at the microphone, his hands gripping the stand as he scanned the room. When his eyes landed on you, he seemed to relax slightly.

“I’ve known Ethan for years,” Harry began, his voice steady despite the nerves evident in his posture. “We’ve been through a lot together—laughs, arguments, some questionable decisions during Sidemen videos—but through it all, he’s been like a brother to me. And seeing him with Faith… it’s clear she’s made him the happiest he’s ever been. They’re perfect for each other.”

He paused, his gaze flickering to you again. “Love isn’t always easy. It’s about finding someone who sees you for who you are—flaws and all—and chooses to stand by you anyway. And Ethan and Faith, you’ve found that in each other.”

The room erupted into applause as Harry raised his glass in a toast. When he returned to his seat, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, murmuring, “That was beautiful.”

He shrugged, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his emotions. “Just telling the truth.”

The Drive To The Hotel

The wedding eventually wound down, and you and Harry left the venue, your fingers intertwined as you walked to the car. The snow had picked up, blanketing the world in a serene hush. The drive to the hotel was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. Harry’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Tonight was perfect,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Harry glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It was. Ethan and Faith deserve it.”

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “When you were up there, giving your speech… it felt like you were talking about us.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly. “That’s because I was,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. About what’s next.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

He pulled into the hotel parking lot, turning off the engine before facing you fully. The dim light from the car’s interior illuminated his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I mean… I don’t want to wait anymore,” he said, his voice firm. “I want this with you. The vows, the celebration, the forever. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but tonight just made it crystal clear.”

Tears filled your eyes as you reached for him, cupping his face in your hands. “Harry…”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them again, filled with determination. “Marry me. Not someday—soon. I don’t need anything fancy. I just need you.”

The Hotel Room

When you finally made it to the hotel room, the emotions of the day had reached their peak. The moment the door clicked shut, Harry turned to you, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, his touch setting your skin alight.

“I mean it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love and desire into the moment. “I don’t want to wait either.”

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your dress before finding the zipper at the back. He pulled it down slowly, his lips never leaving yours as the material pooled at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his blue eyes dark with desire as they raked over your exposed skin.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, a mix of the cool air and the heat of his gaze. You reached for him, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers, revealing the toned muscles beneath. When his shirt joined your dress on the floor, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed.

The passion between you was overwhelming, each touch and kiss a reminder of the depth of your love for each other. He took his time, worshipping every inch of your body as if to prove just how serious he was about the promises he’d made in the car.

“I love you,” he murmured over and over, his words a soothing balm to your soul.

As the night wore on, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. The love you shared wasn’t just a fleeting emotion—it was a promise, a future, and a forever.

The Morning After

When you woke the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, you found Harry watching you, his head propped up on one hand.

“Good morning, fiancée,” he said, his grin boyish and full of mischief.

You laughed, your heart swelling at the word. “Good morning, fiancé.”

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Last night was perfect. You’re perfect.”

You leaned into his touch, your smile soft. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Neither can I,” he said, his voice serious. “Let’s not wait long. Let’s start forever as soon as we can.”

And as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that your forever had already begun.

A/N: I’m so happy with how this turned out! Pls remember to repost and spread!

[anticidic]

It's thanks to @hintabutbsd that I couldn't get these images out of my head and now I'm like...pokémon trainer AU, but very specifically 15!skk

Dazai learns to patch up his pokémon himself when in a pinch, and he'll feed them berries and spray potions on their wounds because Yokohama has its fair share of sketchy Pokémon Centers that he doesn't trust the same way he doesn't trust people to patch him up and tend to his wounds. So his pokémon are sometimes wandering around covered in bandages themselves and the first time Chuuya sees Dazai's Wooper, he has half a mind to snatch the thing up and bring it to a proper Pokémon Center for treatment.

His crimes include snatching berries from the trees of berry growers and inappropriately using the HM Surf to cross waters where pokémon surfing is illegal in the bay (he does it cut down time but also to get away from Chuuya when he pulls his pranks, forgetting Chuuya has a pokémon that can fly and Dazai's sometimes just been...snatched up in the claws of a talonflame and flown back to headquarters)

He busts those medicinal shops that sell the super bitter herbs that pokémon hate like revival herbs, energy roots, and heal powders. And force feeds them to his enemies instead

He's been holding off on evolving his Wooper for years because he found the poor thing all alone in an alley battered and surrounded by trashcans and dumpsters where it didn't belong, looking a little scared as thunder struck. Wooper shouldn't be alone but he didn't know what else to do other than take it in himself and patch it up. Then it refused to leave his side. And now he might have a tiny soft spot for it.

He also likes using Chuuya's pokémon because of his own laziness. Sometimes Chuuya will walk in to his arcanine starting a little fire for Dazai to keep warm because he can't stand the cold—and has half a mind to tell Dazai to cut it out and catch his own fire types if he wants one so bad, but might have a SMALL change of heart because his arcanine-then-growlithe used to do the same for him and the Sheep when they were in the slums)

Or he'll get the great idea of taking it for a ride across the city so he can catch up to Chuuya who's speeding on his motorcycle.

Dazai tries to goad people into touching his Wooper because it secretes a deadly poison, and Chuuya threatens him every time he does it.

[sparks-and-smoke]

Hello!

What about an avengers reader and bucky fic where reader dosnt realize they are in an depressive episode but bucky or steve or both ( platonically or romantically) notices.

Haha I just surfaced from a major depressive episode so that's where the inspiration came from.

Also hi!

Hi <3 this one is a little longer because, well I guess I needed it too. Plus fluffy lovey Stucky is my bread and butter. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky barnes x reader, Stucky (but not really the focus)

Content/Warnings: mental health, depression, anxiety, self care

Author Note: as someone who also struggles with mental health I personally loved this ask. Thank you, and I hope your feeling better sweets. Take care. 

(Bonus note from my editor @voice-of-velhart)

Editor Note: Depression is not an easy thing to make your way out of, but I'm proud of ya'll for pushing through it and I'm glad your here. <3

The brain fog was the thing that set in first. It was hard to fall out of a routine living in the compound. Day in and Day out it was training and meal regimens. Sparring and paperwork. Someone was always around and yet you felt like you were drifting. Going through the motions with little to no reason to do so other than if you didn’t what else would fill your day. No one seemed to notice your lack of enthusiasm, or how your typically attentive nature had been slipping lately. Your reports were still on time and you weren’t pulling your punches in training so you were probably fine… right?

It was burn out or maybe you were feeling under the weather. At least that's what you told them if they asked. And while your friends and team loved you, they were busy people with the literal weight of the world on their shoulders. So who could blame them when they didn’t keep tabs, or at least you thought they didn’t keep tabs. 

Bucky sat in the library trying to find a fantasy book he hadn’t already read. Tony was a brilliant guy but he had horrible taste in written fiction. As he perused, he kept you in his peripheral vision. You stared down at your now cold cup of coffee looking lost even though you weren’t moving. He had noticed you are like this a lot the last few weeks. You shower less and less, your normally shiny maintained hair more often than not on the greasy and dull side of the spectrum. And he hadn’t seen you touch the piano or your switch in days. He was getting concerned. 

He taps Steve with his foot. “What?” 

The big guy had been deep in thought, sprawled out in a lounge chair with his nose in a tablet. “Have you noticed Angel is different lately?” 

Steve glanced up, taking a look at their girl as she swirled the coffee in her mug, totally disassociating. “Yeah, she said she was under the weather. I tried to get it out of her what was wrong but she’s being cagey.” his brows knit together in a mask of concern. “Sure is lingering a long time to be just a bug, don't cha think?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah I do… what are we gonna do about it.” 

Steve sighed heavily and set down his tablet, giving the issue his full attention. He thinks back to those long cold winters in brooklyn. When the snow was deep and his bones would ache so bad he didn’t wanna get out of bed. There were always little things that would help him get out of those slumps. Bucky making him get up and shower was always a good start, followed by warm food and if they could find it, sunlight. 

“I think we're gonna start by helping our girl feel human again..” 

~~~~

Steve and Bucky formed a game plan. The two men are nothing if not efficient and tactical. Steve went down stairs to start food. Something starchy and savory. Comfort food. Meanwhile, Bucky started operation Angel Self Care. 

“Angel.” Bucky's voice was soft, wrapped in warm velvet. And you barely registered it before he was crouching down and smoothing back your hair from your face. Taking your untouched cup out of your hand. “How long have you been sitting here, beautiful?” 

You shook your head as if you could wave away the mist behind your eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Lost track of time I guess.” Bucky just hums. Yeah, he knows that feeling. He also knew it never led anywhere good. 

“Lost in thought?” 

You looked up to meet his gaze, warmth and concern mixing in the set of his jaw and the draw of his brows. “Yeah I guess. I’m fine babe. Don’t worry about it I’m just..”

“Feeling under the weather. Yeah, I know. You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I’m starting to think it’s a cop out.”

It is and you know it but you don’t know what else to say. “I just. I don’t know what wrong with me lately. I just… I don’t wanna do anything. Like anything ya know? It’s like sometimes waking up alone is all I have in me for the day. Do you know how that feels.”

If anyone knew how you felt it was Bucky. Hell sometimes he still felt that way, decades of torture and actions out of his own control had left him with more then his own share of depressive tendencies that drag him deep down under the current of reality pretty regularly. There are days he goes completely nonverbal, only going through the motions on autopilot. The only people who can pull him out are Steve, and you. And therapy, lots of therapy. “Of course I do. You know I do. But Angel, you can’t live there. It’s ok to feel it, but you need to acknowledge it and try to crawl back out. It’s ok if you can’t do it alone baby.”

You feel a thick lump forming in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down. The urge to argue, to tell him your fine and he’s being overbearing was there. But more then that you knew he was right. Something was wrong, and you couldn’t climb out on your own. But you weren’t ready to say it. Not yet. 

“Come on honey, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in your belly. That might help a little.” Bucky didn’t wait for you to protest, he slid one arm under your legs and the other around your back and headed up to Steve’s quarters. Not caring in the slightest if teammates or recruits saw. That was a problem for later Bucky. 

~~~~

The big six had full apartments in the upper levels of the compound. Which means he could squirrel you away to Steve’s private bath and get you in the shower. Vetiver and pine, a familiar comforting scent. Gently and quietly he started the shower to an acceptable temperature for you (hot enough to turn your skin the next shade of blush.) and stripped you down to help you in. 

There was nothing sexual about the way he did this. It was all just about loving you. Helping you, as  he guided you into the water and let it wash away your stress. He pulled you back against his chest. “There’s my girl. That feel better Angel?” 

You nod as the smell of Steve’s body wash fills the small space. “Do you mind if I wash you?” 

With your permission he sets about cleaning you up. Slow loving strokes over your body as he pulls you back to lean on his chest. “You know you can talk to us about anything right. Steve and I love you. You’ve been here for us. Let us do the same.” 

“I would tell you… if I knew why I felt this way.” You confess. “If I had some inkling of what I needed to get out to feel better but I don’t.” 

Your voice wavers and it breaks Bucky's heart just a little. He wants to fix it. But he knows he can’t. All he can do is be there for you. “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to help you.” He tilts your head back. Starting to wash your hair. “We’ll just take it one step at a time till we find ground again. Ok?

~~~~ 

Downstairs Steve fretted over the stove. Sweet potato pierogi and with onions and butter. It was easy, simple even. But it always made him feel better as a kid and the few times he had made it you liked it. He looked up as he heard feet pad down into the kitchen. Hair still damp, but clean. In fresh sweats and Bucky's shirt. 

“Ahh, there you are. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah… a little.” You admit, sitting on a stool across the island. 

Steve rounds the counter to kiss your forehead. “You look better.” He inhaled her skin, the longer scent of his soap and Bucky's touch still there, along with that sweet undertone that was all you. “Smell better too.” He teased. 

You breath out your nose with a half hearted huff. “Thanks.” 

“Always angel. Here. I made you some food. You don’t have to eat it all but at least a few bites would ease my mind. And then maybe we can go up to the room and get you some sun hmm? Would you be ok with that.” Steve slid the colorful pasta across the counter to you with a warm smile. Trying to coax you to follow his lead. 

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You eat mostly in silence. Steve and Bucky don’t push you to talk as you fill your stomach. You know they're worried. But even just these small gestures are helping you feel like maybe there is an end to this malaise. You see Steve smile and kiss Bucky softly in thanks as they wait for you to tell them you're ready. 

They spend the rest of the day trying to get you some sun. Fresh air and movement. 

“We’re gonna do this a little everyday till you start feeling better. And if you need it or feel up to it we can look into talking to a therapist too.” Steve assures. His hand firmly laced through your own. “You are not alone in this. We all feel this way sometimes. But I’m proud of you for trying love.”

A flicker of hope flies in your chest at his words. You aren’t alone, this isn’t forever. And your men are gonna love you through it till you can do it on you own.

[bugslaststraw]

Ugh I explained this to Nat before but that was a vm and now I have to try to put it into text lol. Bear with me. Spoilers for Sonic 3 below...

So like Okay, original game Robotnik has that "machines are better than people and I love them and I hate people" thing going on. And movie universe Jimbotnik does the same thing right. Except his reasons for preferring machines are a little weird? To say the least.

When most people aspire to the perfection of the blessed machine they tend to focus on how machines are perfect because they aren't saddled with those pathetic human emotions, and how they're stronger and smarter and more perfect and all that. And like. There are elements of that with movie Robotnik don't get me wrong, he bullies Sonic for loving his friends, but we all know that's bullshit because his actual personality complex trauma thing stems entirely from being hurt that people don't like him? and nobody's ever genuinely cared about him enough to not betray/leave him, as we learned in movie 3. Daddy issues, et cetera.

The actual first reason he gives for why he prefers his robots, in movie 1, is that they do what they're told and they never need time off to go do stuff other than what they're told. What's worse is that he outright ignores the part about machines that don't line up with what he is. Machines are cold unfeeling things right? And Robotnik is a madman, just complete ditz entirely controlled by his emotions. He's all over the place. So obviously that isn't why he actually likes them. Nor does it seem to be because they're smarter or stronger.

Now all this wouldn't quite have clicked in my head and started forming a pattern, if I hadn't spent half a day getting ahold of reading the movie novelizations lol, they're not good exactly but they aren't bad either (not exactly) and they have this really interesting. Detail. Take. Choice, even, that stood out to me. In the novels we get exactly zero scenes written from Agent Stone's perspective. So he's entirely filtered through Robotnik as we see him. And, like. Robotnik ascribes? Robotic traits to him? That he straight up doesn't have?

This being the most infamous example... But it happens again at least once, which is a lot for the novels cus they're short as hell, where (from Botnik's pov) Stone takes on this more mechanical tone when talking to him or being around him, that he seems to like or prefer/speak positively of. Okay. Weird, homoerotic, but not entirely out of character.

It did make me think though. If Robotnik is kind of loose about why he actually likes machines. But is still adamant that they're good and humans are bad... And what he actually likes about them seems to be that they're... Loyal? I think. And they do what they're told. And they don't need time off to see their families and get laid and leave him alone I'm so sorry then. Well.

Those are traits a human being could very well have. For example, his actual human assistant, who's standing right fucking there as he says it. Right? Stone is still all that, he's loyal and he actually likes + is nice to him and he does what he's told and that's why he actually likes him, as we find out in movie 3, right? So.

What I'm saying is when. In the third movie when he says you were the only person who ever blah blah right. And, like, of course he was. Who would want to be loyal to? This dickhead who mostly wants to achieve world domination? Why would you want to do what a villain says? But Robotnik doesn't care about that, he likes being a villain and above that he's just hurt, right, by it all, and doesn't gaf if his own actions affect others so.

So he ascribes robotic traits to Stone not because they're actually there (Stone is professional when talking to others, but far from emotionless, and it is in fact his emotional connection to the dear doctor that makes him as loyal as he is) but. Rather because in his mind, Stone is on the same level as a robot, because he has the same traits that Robotnik actually. Likes about his robots. That mainly being loyalty, I think.

And, well. In the third movie granpappy Geralt hacks those robots of his and makes them stop obeying him, doesn't he. Not even they were entirely loyal by the end, much like Geralt himself, right?

You can't hack a human being, though.

Anyway. Keep your heads up, okay? I'm like. 99% sure Robotnik is fine (fight me in the comments I guess) and I tend to be good at predicting this stuff so he'll be back one way or another. Jim Carrey officially un-retired, the space station time travel thing is still an active theory, and they can't just fucking kill Eggman guys, come on. Cheers!🥂

[flowery-laser-blasts]

STRANGE MAGIC DRAKGO AU

First of all thank you @cocoa-night for letting me know the name of this movie. I saw a snippit of Dawn and Bog a few months back on instagram but I couldn't find the title. The second I watch this? BAM! I'm instantaneously sucked into the whole story. I don't care if people say it's a bad movie or cringe, it makes me happy.

This is a lot so if you're interested in the AU...

Designing these two in the style of the movie proved to be very difficult in the end. I'm still very unsure about these colours and details since it became pretty busy, however, I have left it as is for now and maybe in the future I might redesign it! I thought it was important to implement a bit of each other's colours in their outfits. A bit of blue in Shego's green Rajah butterfly wings and I wanted to capture the green reflection of the Scarab in Drakken's outfit, but the show's style rarely shows very shiny objects so I ended up with green accents in the collar and ends of gloves and boots. Note that these designs change a LOT in my sketches because I'm more 'free' with drawing and don't fully stick to things unless I fully render out things.

THE STORY: It basically follows the same storybeats as the movie but with some added lore I made of my own. Please don't expect a fully written fanfic. This is somewhat inbetween rough notes and script.

Kimberly, the Princess of the Faerie Kingdom, has been preparing to take her place on the throne ever since the day she was born. Under the strict eyes of Miss Go, her Governess, Kim has been leading up to the most important day of her life: choosing her husband and future King of Faeries at the Spring dance. However, Kim has other plans. During lunch periods Miss Go and Kim would often take a stroll in the Castlegarden, where she would listen to her Governess' past adventures as Shego; adventurer, world explorer, kick-ass Faerie extraordinaire. "Whatever would make you quit that exciting life and be stuck in this place?" "Well, for starters: having a roof above my head and three meals a day is nice. A warm bed--" "You've become soft haven't you?" "Do you want extra homework Kimberly?" "No ma'am." "That's what I thought. Let's get back inside. It's almost time for your dance practice." Kimberly never received a 'real' answer to her question but something must've happened in Miss Go's past... Right?

"Sooo... the spring dance huh." "What's with that?" "Oh just... You having to choose a partner for life, that's uh- That's a big deal, huh?" "Yeah, no. I don't think so." "What?" "I'm not going Ron. I am so done with this boring castle! I want adventure! I want to see the things Miss Go has seen!" "Danger, homelessness and poverty?" "The WORLD RON!" "I mean... I guess--" "All I have to do is distract Miss Go long enough during the dance and I can finally be free!" "That woman is like a bloodhound... Unlike Bonnie. Man, I tell you Kiki. I've seen ladybugs in love but that girl has it bad! I passed by her today and she didn't even comment on my 'fashion sense' like usually, all because Brick was weeding the farm!" "Wait, Ron. Rewind; What did you say?" "My fashion sense, you know, my pants and shirt never match--" "No before that!" "Ladybugs in love?" "That's it Ron! Love makes blind, maybe blind enough for us to run away!" "I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Miss Go show any emotion other than anger-- wait 'us'?" "Well, duh, of course! You and me together Ron. You're my best friend since forever! Besides Miss Go may act cold on the outside, deep down I know she has a warm heart." "Well if you say so... But what guy would be brave enough to even try greeting her?" "Easy, general Barkin. You tell him that Miss Go has a crush on him!" "But she doesn't???" "Easy Ron: Love potion... now here's the plan." And thus Kimberly's plan, after Ronald wrote it down on a piece of parchment, was put in action: - Step 1. Get General Barkin to go for Miss Go. (Maybe they even fall in love right? That way we don't need a love potion to begin with!! Right!??! I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE DARK FOREST! MOM TOLD ME I SHOULD NEVER GO THERE!) - Step 2. If General Barkin's persistence doesn't work: Love potion. Kim said that we could get some from the Sugarplum Faerie, but I heard that she's just a legend but you know how Kim is; she's headstrong. I love her for that but this is a bit dangerous, isn't it? I'm not going to let her go by herself though! She says she's found old documents in the archives of the castle, but are those even real? What if it's just a tale?? - Step 3. Put some of the love potion in Miss Go's tea? Food? How does this even work! I've never seen it in real life! Can you overdose on it? Argh Kiki why are you doing this to me!!

"Wh-what? The Dark forest?! Miss Go, we all know that no one is--" "I'm joking Princess. Of course I'll come to the dance. Someone has to make sure that you find the right man to marry. The kingdom's fate is at stake." The night before the Spring Dance, Kimberly and Ronald met at the edge of the kingdom, ready to go into the unknown of the dark forest.

"You got all the ingredients Ron?" "Boy do I! It took me a few hours but I found everything we need for a love potion!" "Spankin! Alright, all we've got to do now is get to the middle of the Dark Forest and then in the Kobold King's cast--" "K-k-k-k-k KOBOLD KING? KIMBERLY, THIS WON'T END WELL. I THOUGHT- YOU KNOW, SUGAR PLUM JUST DIDN'T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN SOCIETY ANYMORE AND STARTED LIVING IN THE DARK FOREST... IN A COZY COTTAGE... THAT WE CAN WALK INTO FOR A VISIT? MAYBE GET SOME COOKIES?" "Ron, please. I need you to be serious and focus. Tell me: Are you in or not? I won't be mad at you if you want to go back, but I need to know now." "...I--" Ronald took a deep breath. "Yes, of course I am." "Thank you Ron."

Once in the forest, Kimberly and Ronald snuck around. They evaded giant centipedes and weird looking frogs. Luckily for the duo, they found the way to the Kobold King's Castle with the help of a chipper cockroach that tried to get Ronald's roadtrip snacks. Meanwhile in the castle, King Drakken was having an argument with his mother who, once again, brought in a suitor for her son. "Mother for the SO MANIETH TIME. I. DO NOT. WANT. TO GET HOOKED UP WITH A TOTAL STRANGER!!!" "WELL YOU NEVER LEAVE THIS CASTLE EITHER. IF YOU'RE NOT OUT THERE LOOKING FOR A GIRL, HOW DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO FIND YOU, HMM? I'M GETTING OLDER DREW, I DON'T WANT YOU TO WITHER AWAY LIKE A SHRIVELED UP WALLFLOWER AFTER I'M GONE" "Mother, that won't happen--" "FOURTY YEARS, DREW, FOR FOURTY YEARS I TOOK CARE OF YOU, RAISED YOU WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS AND WHAT DO I GET AS THANKS? A GRUMPY GROUCH THAT DOESN'T WANT TO GIVE HIS MOTHER ANY GRANDCHILDREN." "Oh for the love of--, if you want to take care of something: get a pet!! Love is just an obstacle if you look at the bigger picture." Drakken waved his mother off as his two minions, Fissi and Killi, ran in; telling him about the spies that sneaked into the forest.

Kimberly and Ronald managed to break into the dungeon and found the Sugarplum Faerie. After they got the love potion, they helped Sugarplum to escape but because of her very, very loud singing, the Kobold King arrived. "What do we have here? Two nimwits tresspassing my domain!?" "HEY! DON'T CALL THE PRINCESS OF THE FAERIES A NIMWITT-- Oops.." "RON!" "GIVE ME THAT POTION!" Ronald struggled against the grasp of the King. "KIKI, CATCH!" Ronald thew the flask of love potion in the hopes that the princess would catch it. However as she dove towards it, it broke onto the dungeon floor. The impact caused half of the potion to splash onto Kimberly's face. Enraged, the King tossed Ronald aside and ordered Fissi and Killi to cleanup the mess before more damage could be done. Kimberly's eyes unfortunately fell upon the tyrant's face "AND AS FOR YOU PRINCESS-- why, are you looking at me like that?" IMPORTANT NOTE: FOR THIS AU TO WORK, PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT I SEE THIS AS A TEENAGE GIRL CRUSHING ON/FALLING FOR A FAMOUS CELEBRITY AND IT'S COMPLETELY ONESIDED, LIKE IN THE MOVIE. I DO NOT SHIP KIM AND DRAKKEN. Anyway, Drakken gets the absolute creeps and locks both Kimberly and Ronald up in each a seperate cell. The King was determined to make an antidote but had to admit; this accidental fiasco proved to be bountiful. With the princess as a hostage, Drakken would have the upper hand in demanding that the Faeries would surrender their kingdom to him as an expansion of the dark forest. This was almost too good to be true! Drakken told a few of his soldiers to go to the King of the Faeries and let his demands be known: Hand over the Faerie Kingdom if you ever want to see your daughter back, alive. Luckily for Drakken, Kimberly was very helpfull in gossiping about the kingdom... maybe a bit too much. Soon enough he had too much information. He didn't want to hear endless tales about, for example: Hank, the royal baker, who's cupcakes were the buzz of the town.

From the moment she got up until lunch time, Miss Go managed to evade General Barkin's advances as she made her way to Kimberly's quarters. As expected, she didn't find her there. Going to all of Kim's regular spots, she noticed a crumpled up parchment… Ronald's notes. "Those brats… When I get my hands on them--!!! I might need to find a new job." Miss Go set out to get to the Castle of the Kobold King, hours before his army arrived at the border of the Faerie Kingdom... From this point on, I'll refer her back to Shego as we're outside of the kingdom.

Drakken was going over his plan of attack as Shego crashed into the King's throne room, causing him to shriek and hide behind his desk. "Alright, cough up. Where's Princess Kimberly." "I could take you to her... If you surrender yourself to me, wench." "Fat chance dungbeetle." "HNG! WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!?" "Get that mulch out of your ear, saves people time in repeating themselves!"

Drakken and Shego fought tooth and nail until both of them were out of breath. That's when they noticed a familair voice. "Not again... It's been HOURS!" "Is that?" "I told her to stop talking about the castle... So she started singing instead." "Did she." "Love potion? Yes." "Oh no." Drakken sighed, "Come along... watch your step."

"YOU ARE A SICK, SICK MAN!" "WHAT?! THIS IT ISN'T MY FAULT!! THAT BUFFOON PRACTICALLY AIMED THAT LOVE POTION STRAIGHT THAT GIRL'S HEAD" "YOU'RE STILL TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION" "I'M WORKING ON AN ANTIDOTE IN THE MEANTIME!" "How long until it is done?"

Drakken and Shego spoke to the Sugarplum Faerie who gave Fissi and Killi a list of ingredients to gather. Meanwhile they went upstairs along wtih Drakken's mother to see the dininghall decorated in red hearts and all that hoopla.

"I have nothing to do with this." Shego looked him up and down, "Yeah, I can tell." "I don't know whether to take that as an insult or not." She shrugged. "Take it however you want it."

Hours passed and eventually both Drakken and Shego lost their patience. Both of them demanded to know the status of the antidote. Sugarplum told them that the antidote was inside the dungeon all along. "WHAT!? WELL WHAT IS IT?!" "YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS!" "Well what is it??" Sugarplum smirked and started to play out the tragic lovestory of the lovesick King who tried to forcefully win over the heart of a lake creature who was, unbeknownst to him, already in love with another.

"Ha...hahaha." "What's so funny Kobalt King?" "Even with that love potion, I am just too hideous to love, aren't I?" Shego felt a bit of empathy towards the King. He probably didn't notice it himself, but the few moments when the moon shone onto him through cracks of the darkened castle, he would faintly glow in a beautiful, almost mesmerizing azure blue shine. It almost made his wings and exoskeleton look like a finely polished gem. "ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO WHAT I AM SAYING?" Sugarplum's yelling snapped Shego out of her thoughts. Thinking about the story, Shego realised something: "Wait, do you mean that... urgh... 'true love' is the cure to all of this?" "Bingo! A love potion is fake, nothing about it is real. But true love, nothing can break that bond!" "...and 'in the dungeon'... Ronald! Argh!! Those two kids--" "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" "You locked me up and blamed all your misfortune on me! I tried to warn you but you NEVER LISTEN!" "Fissi, Killi.. Just... Just take her away and let that brat-- I mean; Let Ronald into Kimberly's cell. He might be able to wake her up from her delusional state." Drakken's henchmen took the Sugarplum Faerie and left the room. Shego turned to follow Fissi and Killi but hesitated at the door. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the King standing near the window. She took a deep sigh and walked over.

"Wowwww... you.... uhhhh... You planning on blowing this whole thing off?" "Hm? Yeah. Guess you can call this a revelation, I suppose." "What do you mean?" "This whole 'wanting to take over everything'. I guess I did it because I wanted to become powerful. All these years I wanted to hold power over those who have wronged me in the past and to show sweet, beautiful Amy that I could be worthy of her love. I now realise that I just felt lost. I wanted to control everything but--" "But you can't control everything. Sometimes you just need to let go and focus on yourself. Trust me, I know everything about that. My older brother? Total control freak that hovered over all of my siblings and I. That's why I left home." "It suffocated you... That must've been a difficult decision to take for you..." "Yeah..." "Sooo... Now you are a babysitter for the Faerie Kingdom's Princess." "Governess. I saw the world for a while and after that I grew a bit bored. I wanted something more stable so... teaching. It used to be my passion. But soon Kimmie will be engaged, married and then I'll move onto the next thing." "Well, if you need a place to crash. I can keep a cell warm in my dungeon for you." The both of them laughed. "Come let's stretch our wings." "Great idea!"

The two of them flew out of the castle into the night sky and passed by all sorts of folliage and creatures until Drakken dove into a large bramble.

They enjoyed the flight and most of all; each other's company. That was until Drakken noticed the Faerie Kingdom's army. "Uh-oh... I... forgot about that." "Urgh. Just-- Just wait here. I'll go talk to them. They might shoot you on sight." "Nothing I can't handle... But I might-- er... Go check on Princess Kimberly and Ronald. If you hear singing--" "I'll stall time." Shego took off "Wait!" "Hm?" "...Be careful. That's all."

Drakken got to the dungeon via it's secret entrance and found Ronald and Kimberly, holding each other in an embrace and outside of her cell. "AH GOOD! Great to see you are back to normal... Right?" Kimberly looked over, startled at first and then cringed, remembering everything she did. "Yup!SureAm!Let'sGoRon.HaveYouSeenMissGo?" "She's at the entrance. Come with me before things escalate any further." The three of them ran up the stairs. "Let me get this straight: You're a good guy now?" "I wouldn't necessarily say that, but in this case: sure." "What changed?" "What do you mean?" "Well you went from "I AM GOING TO TAKE OVER THE FAERIE KINGDOM!" to "I'm letting both of you go." What changed? Why don't you want to take it over anymore?" "I suppose that controlling others isn't truly what I want." "What do you want?" "... I think--" "Ron this is so not the time to become a therapist." Kimberly interjected as she pointed out the massive Faerie army with at the front General Barkin.

"For the last time General. I am NOT your ANYTHING." "But-- But Miss Go. What we have--" "Nothing. NO-THING." "That damned monster has brainwashed you hasn't he?! I heard the tales about him kidnapping Sugarplum for his selfish reasons!!" Drakken felt a surge of anger coming over him as he dove headfirst towards Barkin. "I AM NOT BRAINWASHING HER. IF SHE SAYS NO, THE ANSWER IS NO. DON'T YOU DARE TO DECIDE WHAT'S BEST FOR HER!!" The two fought, which gave a misunderstood 'signal' to their allies to charge into battle. Shego grabbed Kimberly and Ronald, moving them out of harms way before looking for Drakken and Barkin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a faint blue shimer in the light of the sunrise. The Kobold King was backed into a corner and with General Barkin's sword at his throat, he admited defeat. "My Hero!" Shego squealed out in joy. "Miss Go! You've broken free from this despicable creature's spell!" Barkin practically tossed away his sword, spreading his arms to receive, what he thought was, a warm embrace from his green Faerie in distress; instead, he received a sucker punch that send him straight into the chasm mere meters away from her and Drakken. "That was terrifying." "You almost dying?" "Your acting." Drakken and Kimberly called off both of the armies. Telling the full story, though excluding some embarassing details for everyone's sake. The Faerie army retreated, turning around to head back towards the Faerie Kingdom, leaving the Kobold King, the Governess, Princess Kimberly and Ronald to part their ways.

"I'm glad that everything got resolved in the end. See Kim? We don't need a love potion!" "That reminds me, why did you want that love potion? Weren't you two already, well, you know... On the right track?" "Oh it wasn't for Kim! It was for mhmpfff--" Kim quickly covered Ron's mouth with her hand, turning beetred. "Kimmie..." Shego crossed her arms looking at the Princess. Kim sighed.

"I want to see the world. Just like you did! I don't want to marry some random guy just so I could rule the kingdom." "You are still young," Shego smiled and brushed Kimberly's redhair behind her ear, which reminded her of her own mother. "you can see the world in due time. You will marry once you're ready and I'm pretty sure you've already found your king." Ron choked on his spit hearing that, laughing nervously. "AHEM MAYBE- MAYBE IT'S TIME TO GO BACK?" his voice cracked. Both Kimberly and Shego laughed at the boy. "Yeah, let's. Kobold King, my apologies for all the troubles we have caused you." "Ah- well... it wasn't all that bad. If it weren't for you two sneaking in, I wouldn't have met--..." "..." "Yes?" "Yes?" "Met-- individuals, such as yourselves, to show me that things aren't all that bad and that love is, mayhaps, a beautiful thing." "...Am I the only one here that thought he was going to say Miss G--OOF!" "Ron!" "It was nice to have met you as well Kobalt. You aren't as bad as they say." "Heh.." "...Farewell." The three Faeries walked off, crossing the bridge. Leaving both the castle and the Kobold King behind. Drakken bit his lip. "...Actually" "Yes?" Shego turned around. "Feel free to visit whenever you like." "Oh. Okay." "Miss Go?" Kimberly had a small smile on her face, "I have learned a lot from you. Ever since I was little, I've seen you as my secondary mother. I'll be good on my own now, besides; I think you might have found your king as well." Shego felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to the Princess' words. She touched her cheek and felt warm tears on her fingers. "Stay out of trouble Princess. I know where to find you." "I'll try my best." Kimberly beamed and hugged her Governess one last time.

"What are you doing Drew?" the King's mother held her son's hand. "What I should've done with Amy: Letting go." "No, you should've told Amy about how you felt. But that's in the past. Now you tell her how you feel." The King turned around to see the green Faerie standing in front of him. Taken aback, he tried to step away but his mother blocked his path. "Tell her. Right. Now!" "Ahem... I-- Erm... it's..." "...Yes?" "I think I-- might, have... I have fal-- fall-- What I mean to say is I lo--" Shego placed her finger on his lips hushing him. "Maybe I should take it from here." she smiled. He hummed in agreement against her touch. That night along the border where magical flowers grew, the Kobold king and the green Faerie danced along to the spring dance's melody that was carried over by the wind. Flying above the Primroses that bloomed between light and shadow.

The end.

Hope you enjoyed reading all of this! :)

[silliest-sideblog]

Wrote a little Slabtek fic as a Christmas gift for my buddy @eydilily

Thanks for going insane with me, it has been an absloute blast! Wouldn't have been this productive the last few weeks without you <3

Pairing: Tango/Etho

Length: 1.4k

Summary: Tango just wants to get some work on his factory done but a snowy day had something else in store for him

Tango doesn't like snow. After last season where he spent the entire time surrounded by ice and the cold he's decidedly had enough of it.

That's why he settled somewhere entirely away from any snowy mountains and just enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin. It is nice, not having his body work overtime to keep himself warm.

No, this is perfect. Until one morning he wakes up and... It's snowing.

He sits up in his bed and groans at the sight of it, watching as it just keeps piling up outside, with no pause coming.

It's not like Tango dislikes Christmas time but why does it always have to come with snow? He just wants to stay in bed and not work on his factory today, especially since he still hasn't built the exterior for it, meaning everything is covered in snow and if he wants to get any work done… Shoveling snow wasn't really on his agenda today. 

But the only thing worse than working in the snow was not working at all. So he gets up and gets out his poofy coat from last season. It looks a bit ridiculous, without the blue hair but it will do.

As Tango works on getting rid of the snow he hears someone approach but just a moment too late, a snowball hitting him square in the back.

"Hey!!" He calls out, trying to find the culprit. It takes another snowball to be launched at him till he spots Etho, sitting up on a wooden beam of the frame that makes up the factory for now.

"Some people are trying to work here" Tango shouts up as he dodges a third snowball. This only earns a soft chuckle from Etho.

"Fine, if you want it this way. Don't think I'll go easy on you" Tango calls out as he starts gathering a heap of snow in his hand, careful not to melt it immediately.

It is icy against his skin, and in a way it reminds him of the Frozen Shards from Decked Out and how icy handling them always felt. He wishes he had taken the time to find his gloves that he used back then.

With a swift throw he launches a snowball and, of course, it misses Etho, who gets up just in time for it to fly past him.

He prepares another one, throws and this time Etho balances across the wooden beams to evade Tango cheekily.

It takes just one hit, one hit is all he needs to throw Etho off balance.

Neither of them really expected Tango to hit, but it seems like the practice at Hungry Hermits paid off.

The snowball hits Etho right in the face, on the side with his bad eye and Tango flinches a little, not having intended to suddenly hit that well.

It doesn’t help that Etho then tumbles off the beam and falls off.

Tango yelps in panic and sprints forwards. In his mind he can manage to run over there and catch Etho, who totally isn’t taller than him by a bit over a head, in his arms.

But Tango failed to consider the ice and snow coating the deepslate flooring of his factory and he trips and falls rather unceremoniously skidding over the floor right into a heap of snow he was shoveling away.

Tango is just about to get up and out of the freezing snow when he gets pushed right back into the cold, air getting pushed out of his lungs, as Etho lands right on top of him.

He doesn’t know if the tall man can’t move or doesn’t want to move. With Etho, either could be the case.

“Get your heavy butt off me” Tango complains from below, trying to push Etho off but by now it is clear that the other one is doing this entirely on purpose

“You shot me off, Tango, I could’ve died.” Etho exclaims with a sarcastic chuckle. He is clearly very entertained. “And you saved me, very heroically!”

“Starting to regret that now…” Tango grumbles and after some flailing he manages to turn the situation around. Now Etho’s back is pressed against the snow and Tango straddles his lap, a mischievous grin on the blazeborns face, his tail lashing behind him playfully. 

It takes Tango a few moments to realize just the position they were in and suddenly he is glad for the cold, glad for the way his face is already flushed, hiding the heat that he can now feel all the way to the tips of his ears. Any snarky remarks die on his tongue as he stares into Etho’s eyes, getting just a bit lost in them.

Etho’s laugh pulls him back to their current situation. Unlike Tango, Etho isn’t struggling under Tango's weight, not making any move to remove the man from his hips. Instead they sit there for a moment till Etho calls Tango out, “Comfortable?”

Tango makes a startled noise before gathering himself enough to try and move off Etho, but that’s when he notices the hands resting on his waist. There are a million thoughts inside his head, but the only words that leave his lips are “Aren’t you cold?”

Tango wants to bury his face in his hands and scream. That’s what comes out of his mouth?

“I’m used to it. And you’re kind of warm.” Etho shrugs but there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. One hand then wanders a little to tug on one of the sleeves of his coat.

“Didn’t know you still had that coat? Getting started on Decked Out 3 or did the cold just make you nostalgic?” He chuckles again.

“Yeah, something like that.” Tango grumbles, trying to take a deep, calming breath, preferably without Etho noticing. “Or I would’ve been, if someone didn’t decide to viciously attack me” Tango says dramatically, making an attempt to get his usual silliness back.

Tango feels Etho still stare up at him “You’re staring. Like what you see?” Tango laughs, theatrically brushing a hand through his hair. It burns a bit wilder and brighter today, a side effect of the extra heat he’s generating for himself.

“I’m not staring” Etho immediately gets defensive. - “Totally staring” Tango fires back with a laugh before Etho reaches up towards Tango, who is holding his breath, blood rushing through his ear, all before an ice cold sensation runs down his neck.

“Oh you little -” Tango cuts himself off, his body warming up enough to melt the snow, but it doesn’t help against the water now running down his spine. He tries to shove snow into Etho’s face, who just laughs, trying to keep as much of the cold off his face as possible with his arm. Tango can see him pant slightly under the dark fabric of the mask.

“If I had known you could get this warm I would’ve done this way earlier.” Tango can practically see Etho grin, sees it in the way his eyes crinkle.

“Ohhh god, I hate you Etho.” Tango groans in his high pitched, not very serious tone, trying to hide just how much this flusters him.

“You could never hate me” Etho laughs and Tango dislikes just how right he is.

“Can we get out of the cold now? I don’t particularly enjoy having a wet coat on, thank you very much.” Tango says accusatively.

Etho’s hands are still on Tango’s waist and neither of them say anything, neither making a move to actually get up, just looking at each other. Tango studies the way Etho’s pale cheeks flush, only slightly showing on the bit of skin that the mask doesn’t cover.

Tango himself has his lips slightly parted, the air in front of him steaming slightly as his hot breath meets the cold air.

Then, in a matter of seconds, Etho slips his mask down and pulls Tango forwards, causing him to yelp, which gets muffled by their lips meeting. 

Tango’s red eyes are wide open for a moment before he feels himself melt into the kiss, closing his eyes, a warm hand coming to rest on Etho’s cheek.

It lasts a few moments, neither seeming to really want to pull back, they pull apart.

Both are open mouthed, breath heavy and cheeks even more flushed. Etho can’t help himself as he points out “Didn’t know you could get this warm” And Tango can just see Etho’s smirk, can’t take his eyes off the others lips, heat coursing through his body and not just to keep himself warm..

When Tango places a hand on Etho’s face he feels just how cold the other one is.

“Come on. Let’s go inside to warm up a bit. I’m sick of keeping myself this warm” he says with an over dramatic sigh as he gets off Etho, and while Tango wouldn’t admit it, he misses the contact.

[donutz]

❤ (ɔˆз(ˆ⌣ˆc) Mokarun x reader // Pt 1

| Sleepover with Momo, Takakura, ‘n you! Pt 1; Pt 2

Warnings: Fluff!! Cuteness, plenty of physical affection/some words of affirmation, body appreciation(Momo and Okarun receiving), very loving reader(an absolute sweetheart), flustered Momo and Okarun// This part mainly focuses on Okarun, the other will be about Momo!! This fanfic is recommended in light mode because both(Mokarun's) names are quite dark (^_^;)

“So, do you wanna come over to my house, my granny wouldn’t mind at all. She’s like— super chill with guests,” Momo's hands were dug into the pockets of her night sky-like sweater, avoiding your gaze with a light blush littered across her face.

The sudden interruption of silence caused Okarun to flinch, making him quickly turn his head to the left, “.. What—”

“Yea sur-”

Adjusting his glasses, he looks at you but then almost immediately looks away when you two make eye contact.

“Oh, mh.. sorry,” he shrinks, turning his head farther, maybe even to the point where he’s looking over his shoulder. He grips the back of his neck while rubbing his fingers over his smooth skin.

Your hand lifts moving side to side, indicating that— 

“It’s fine, I actually kinda interrupted you because you spoke first. So— my bad on my part,” visible cold air puffs from the heat of your mouth while you speak, drawing more attention to that beautiful smile. It’s almost like Okarun could feel your warm aura even when looking away.

It isn’t like Okarun could deny that you interrupted him, even if it was just a millisecond before.

Momo chimes in, seeking your attention.

“Oh well Okarun's at my house all the time, so it’s nothin’ new,”

Your eyebrows raise, a surprised yet nonchalant expression rests on your face. 

“Really?”

She looks away slyly, her earrings jingling along with her head movement.

"Yeah" she breathes out, “It’s almost like he lives with me,”

Silence falls upon all as you look up at the sky. Looking at every individual star spotting the navy-violet view. Connecting some, quite a few look similar to shapes. 

“Star…” you unknowingly whispered.

Did I really just say that out loud? That’s totes cringe man…

The thought popping into your head makes you cringe, mentally and physically.

I’m such a nerd.

Smiling to your thoughts, too busy in your own world you didn’t notice the two pairs of eyes staring at you. Eyes looking from the top of your hair down to what shoes you wore.

Now realizing the world around you, you can feel their stares. Commenting on it would be an instant response, but you didn’t want to seem cocky. Though your peripheral view gives you truthful evidence that they are staring at you.

“… I can feel you guys staring at me,”

“Yea I knew you’d say that…”

“Sorry! I uhh…”

.

.

.

“So you gonna sleep over or what?”

“Oh? I thought I was just gonna stay there for a few hours?”

She slouches; turning to you with a face full of blush and a caught expression, with furrowed eyebrows of course.

“Yeah but I changed my mind! So are you gonna come over or not?!”

You chuckle, looking down at the floor.

“Yea I’ll come over. I don’t have extra clothes though. Can I borrow yours?”

“Mmnahhh, I’ll give you some clothes in the attic,” she jokingly waves you off.

“… You don’t have an attic,”

“I’m joking, stupid,”

“I already knew you were,”

“…”

“Stupid,”

/////

Whether you borrowed her clothes or not— and if you didn’t then you got some from Okarun— you ended up at her house.

You’re very welcome in Momo's house, perhaps you are the favorite ‘grandchild’.

“Yea, you’re mature and also better than I ever could be when I was a kid” — Granny Seiko

Sitting at the table with Mokarun, Ms. Seiko, and Granny Turbo; crushed food is digested inside of your body, legs folded under your upper half. Back straight, slouching every now and then, you were a great example of what Mokarun wanted to be.

Beautiful.

Ms. Seiko was (slightly)surprised at how quiet it was. When you’re around that is.

Whenever everyone is at the table— excluding you— there’s always a loud voice included in an argument. But vice versa it’s like your presence is magic.

Granny Turbo is sitting next to you, actually eating instead of bothering Okarun. Speaking of the alien expert, he’s focused on the slices of fish, small plates of sauces and whatnot. 

Well— he’s mainly focused. 

It’s just really hard to not stare at you, when you look so—

So—

Ugh.

He can’t explain it.

Neither can Momo.

You just have this outstanding effect on them.

Licking your top lip, you announce the now-finished plates sitting on the table in front of you.

“Yea I’m— done too!!”

Momo flaps down her halfway-finished dishes on the beige wooden surface. She marches over to the stairs with a reddened face— though you’re not sure why— stomping up the steps.

Takakura wanted to join you two in the “finished plates club”, but he was still hungry.

He lifts his head with urgency, “Uh-”

“Mm..” he slowly drops his head down to the dishes.

Turbo and Seiko both look at each other, knowing what’s going on.

Momo wants some alone time with you, Okarun wants the same, though— he can’t.

You are completely unaware of what’s happening and want to clean your plates ‘n bowls.

Waving you off with her hand Ms. Seiko says it’s fine.

Soon enough Okarun is left alone at the table with two knowledgeable grannies.

“You know.. It’s obvious you want some alone time with yer bae,” Ms. Seiko states.

“What—!!”

/////

A cold hand grasps the back of yours. The other chilled hand was busy brushing Momo's teeth. She looked in the mirror, watching you while you watched her.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself, beautiful,” you smiled, analyzing her facial features.

She grunts, then spits out the toothpaste, and rinses her mouth.

Leaning back into her original position, she looks away from you.

“You need to stop with yer damn charm… It’s pissing me off!!”

“Mm? What charm? I’m just admiring my outstanding girlfriend taking care of herself,”

“Stop!!!”

You hug her even closer, laying your head on hers. Moving your head, again, cupping your chin into the pit between her neck and shoulder. Getting a whiff of dirt and the outside, you cringe(with kindness), backing away from Momo.

“Um.. Did you take a shower?”

“Uh— you sayin’ I stink or somethin’?” she questions, her voice coming out as raspy. Her face shows the most obvious scowl, irritated and embarrassed.

“Well I can mainly smell the dirt that floats in the air. I don’t think it’s you,” you smile(scared, honestly) with cupped hands behind your back, looking away and stepping farther.

“… Get out,”

“I was starting on that,”

While Momo was showering, though you’d love to take a shower too, you were waiting in her room. You let out a sigh of boredom, “Mm.. Where’s Ken? Miss ‘em.. Mm…”

The sound of light footsteps increases, your eyes darting to the open door, ajar to the hallway. Jumping up from Momo's bed, your face brightens with joy.

You knew who it was.

Rushing out of the room, you engulf Ken. 

“Ah! Oh…” his back arches from your tight hold. He rests his head on your shoulder, hugging you back.

“I was just thinking about you!” picking him up he lets out a squeal; then securing him in your hold while returning to Momo’s room.

“Kiss me ‘karun… I need your affectionnn..” going face to face— still holding him—  you needily whine to your boyfriend.

“I— Um well..” laying him on her bed, you sit above him(hovering).

“Oh, maybe you shouldn’t be on her bed in your school clothes. Can you change into your ‘Momo's house clothes’?”

“Yea.. I-I guess that’s a good idea,” he inches away from your gaze. He’s always so nervous around you.

He gets up from the bed, changing into his clothes. Of course, you’re looking away.

“O-ohkay I’m done,” he crawls on the bed, not knowing what to do.

You glance over to his arms, remembering that he’s been working out lately.

With raised eyebrows you ask if you can feel his muscles. Agreeing to it, he lets you trace over his shoulders, deltoids, biceps, and other arm anatomy names…

You fall silent as you observe his body, astonished. Sure, he doesn’t have big muscles— but he’s been working out for you.

And Momo.

“So.. You’ve been working out for us huh?”

Okarun responds with zero stutters, his ego being boosted just a bit. Though it doesn’t mean his (face)cheeks aren’t flushed. 

“… I’ve been wanting to work out for a while now. Thinking of saving the both of you without being— basically treated like a baby— is amazing to me! Or— not amazing, it just seems like a really good idea,”

You head lifts when hearing him saying that he gets treated like a baby.

“We don’t treat you like a baby,” confusion laced your voice.

“I think you think we’re treating you like a baby. But we’re not,”

You two make eye contact,

“It’s called ‘working together’” you smiled, mouthing each syllable.

“I’m not saying I don’t like your muscles though. They’re super cool,” going back to outlining his muscles, you praise him.

“Your slightly bigger arms show your progress in working out, which is cute to me because I already know why you are,”

His shirt lifts by your hands just enough to show his abs.

“Plus, I can see packs forming on your stomach,” light pressure is put on each slab.

Slight glances are viewing into his eyes every now and then, searching for discomfort.

You make a noise of content, “You make me smile so much, Ken. ‘M so proud of you,”

This fanfic got me smiling I'm ngl.

[arietheyluv]

GIRLS NEED LOVE!

— a scaramouche x reader smau —

— 2. bozo

6:32 am

this morning was a cold one, you're freezing but that's alright, you'll get used to it at some point. feeling anxious about being alone in your class, will you even make any friends with that humor of yours? maybe, maybe not.

opening the door to the cafe you see lumine and ayaka, like usual, yoimiya is a little late.

"yn, your drink came to the table faster than you" lumine says while ayaka signals for you to sit next to her. you do as such and take a sip of your coffee, and then take a bite of the cookie on lumine's plate as she stares in disbelief.

with a mouth full of cookies, "I have math as a first subject, I need a rope" you complain and scroll through your phone to show the girls your class schedule. math, computer science, english, english again, history, then art.

"you have mr. albedo for art, he's a nice teacher, just don't accidentally or intentionally spill water on him" lumine says, she starts talking about all of the teachers and which of the ones were asses and which were good at their job.

time goes by, at some point yoimiya arrives to pick up ayaka, and eventually the clock hits 7:20, having not finished your coffee, you prepare to bring it with you, "yn, since you're going earlier do you want aether to guide you to school? just so you don't get lost and have someone you can ask questions" lumine offers.

"aether?.." you trail off, who is aether?

"my brother, the one with longer hair than me" oh. before you can accept her offer she goes into the back of the cafe and you can hear her yell at what you could guess is her brother.

seconds later, lumine and her brother come out of the back, or the kitchen, whatever you call it. "introduce yourself, what are you waiting for dude" lumine hits aether on the shoulder.

"ow– what the fuck–" another hit on the shoulder cuts him off, "uhm hi I'm aether, we're classmates right?" he steps away from his sister who is staring bullets into his head.

"yeah, I'm yn, can we get going now I don't really have the time to be late sorry" you nervously laugh, aether nods and grabs your bag for you. "see you later lumi!" you say as you close the door of the cafe.

— (⁠✿) —

on the walk to school, you kinda just followed aether around, sipped your coffee, and didn't speak much, it wasn't super awkward though, just a bit.

"hey uhm y/n, i need to go meet up with some guys, our classroom is just right at the floor above us, i think there's a sign anyway, you'll probably find it" he says in an apologetic way and runs off into the distance, "yeah no problem that's okay with me!"

you wished he didn't leave you, 2 minutes later you bumped into a guy and spilled your coffee onto his uniform. "I am so sorry let me get that for you–" he cuts you off, "leave me alone, and watch where you're going, stupid"

what a rude guy, it was an accident and he calls you stupid? he wasn't watching where he was going either, what a bitch, but anyway, you brushed it off and chilled around until the bell rang, then you went inside the room.

you saw two familiar faces, aether and the rude guy you bumped into talking to each other, the tables were grouped in two and the only seat available was next to the rude dude.

seeing you enter the room, aether gestures for you to come over and so you do. "yn, this is my friend scara" he introduces, wanting you to make friends probably.

"this is the girl i was talking about aether" scaramouche titters, you sit down on the seat next to him and he scoots away from you a little, "the one who bumped into you and threw coffee at you?".

"I didn't throw it! It was an accident I'm sorry" you apologize and he doesn't even acknowledge it, just snickers before talking to aether again.

girls need love!

previous — masterlist — next

imsosososo sorry the picture quality on the last 3 screenshots was bad, idk whats wrong with my phone rn

hi, its 5am and im severely dehydrated, lets make hwachae

ok just clearing this up, ayato doesn't chat so much because he's busy eating and being a diva

comment to be added to the taglist!

IN WHICH: as you move from your home country, mondstadt to inazuma you find yourself having a hard time to adjust to your new life. It doesn't help when you accidentally spilt your coffee onto one of the richest students in your new school, and what makes it worse is when you find out you have to spend a whole year with him, as your roommate.

taglist (open): @goodvibesonlyxd @usagiarchive @bananasquash @shidouuuliner

[athousandbyeol]

keep up the thamepo [episode 3]

this episode is deliciously insane. so many things happened and there are so many things I want to say. but in this post, I think I want to focus on some little details about thame and po/thame and jun the most.

at this point, i shouldn't be surprised at how good thamepo is at switching the narratives, allowing us to perceive the story from both ends. but I'm still pleasantly blown away by every watch. I'm really happy that thamepo is courageous to show the story from two sides. i think it gives us (the audience) the liberty to choose or relate to the side we favour more. maybe it doesn't work that way for others, but I love how these multiple perspectives allow me to weigh the characters from both sides and not only one, somewhat giving me the chance to either 1) be biased of one side or 2) be open to both. i just think it's very well-executed and thought out. kudos to p'mui and her team for thamepo's wonderful structural premise.

it's such a treat that we're introduced to the friend arc in thamepo. it's about time we entered the minds of the members, while still laying out thame and po's thoughts and traits in the open. maybe it's just me (or how I actually write my stories) but I'm so amazed at p'mui's storybuilding and characterbuilding. i find it so fascinating because nothing feels rushed or uncertain. every choice she and her team made was perfect for the past three episodes. I'm in awe, really.

but the thing that surprises me the most in this episode is how the story is mainly focused on jun and thame, but with the lingering presence of po as the 'healer' or 'fixer'. he exists as a binder that glues thame with his members. and it's fascinating to see how po somehow camouflages himself to every member's personality and need, offering a different approach (with thame's guidance). po and thame made such a great team. i understand now how and why they'll fall (heels over head) in love with each other in the future.

1. after thame, jun loves mars the most

i was a bit scared last week because I never foresaw someone from mars to betray thame. it was never in my head. so when I saw last week's teaser, I believed jun wouldn't be the person some might assumed he would be. but thamepo has always been a surprise and very good at twists and turns, so I tried to be more open about it.

so… jun's a bit like a diva to me? he's kind of… a lot (at least to someone like me, jun intimidates me beyond my comfort zone). throughout this very awkward exchange between thame and jun, one thing I realised after I watched the episode again was they were actually covering up each other.

thame was trying to send jun a signal. jun received it. but he didn't think it would be a smart choice to talk about it in front of the reporters. so that's why he steered the conversation to (presumably) thame's benefit, in hopes the media wouldn't doubt him (because at this point the news of thame going on a hiatus was already released by the company). i think it's more of jun trying to save thame from further damage than breaking their friendship apart even more.

it's very smart of p'mui and the team to 'paint' jun as the bad guy initially because he did seem like a person that might stab someone's back for his benefit. i think it's the typical stereotyping of characters that appear aloof or unbothered—this coldness that jun exuded—many might assume jun would definitely go against thame.

but he didn't.

and it's an exceptional twist! (for me, it really is!)

thamepo is breaking the norms i see in many dramas of the past and like I mentioned, it's so refreshing to look at the story from multiple lenses all at once, but it was unveiled at the right pacing and time. very, very well done!

another thing that i find very interesting is when po carried out the interview with jun, even though it was mentioned that this was scripted, I believe this is everything jun wanted to say to thame.

again, they're switching the perspective here. in the previous episode, we knew that thame followed the script he was given because he lost his voice. his words no longer hold importance in the company. everything thame said to po for the interview was what the company wanted him to say. we (the audience) are aware that those were lies.

but here, i believe this is what jun wanted thame to know. he might never get a chance to say it to thame in this manner (because I see that jun is the kind of best friend who would say he hates thame when in fact, he loves him the most). it's 'PR' friendly but it holds this sincerity; everything that jun silently wishes for thame (when he embarks on a new journey in Korea).

it's amazing how they give us two things to ponder about the significance of these scripts: 1) a forced responsibility for thame, and 2) jun's inner voice that he couldn't express aloud (perhaps because jun doesn't want to sound/look sappy in front of thame [very very best friend behaviour right there hahaha]).

it's so heartwarming to me that thame isn't alone, after all. like baifern to po, jun is thame's best friend, someone he can confide in. I'm glad jun saw everything that thame tried to hide from the members. I'm glad jun really saw him.

and i have to say, this scene made me smile because thame is so leader-coded through and through. he took the blame for jun because he didn't want khun pemika to 'punish' jun (and take away jun's chance at debuting). thame's selflessness goes beyond everything I have in mind. I'm so excited to see to what extent thame helped the other members in the past because that would be one of the reasons for them to reunite—they just love thame as much as thame loves them.

along the way, thame might think he lost jun, but that's not the case. i guess both of them just needed something (or someone) to break the (very fragile) wall separating them. these two have so much love in their big hearts, but they aren't the best at communicating. so this is when po plays an important role as their messenger.

po is so crucial to mars because he advocates communication and peace. honestly, it would save po from a world of heartbreaks if he just minded his own business and got the documentary over with. but he is just selfless and has too much love and is too kind for the world—so he definitely would want to help his nongs. the bond they'll share is going to be so beautiful and heart-wrenching. God knows what will happen to po and mars (and us) once the company forces another separation between them (I'm ready to jump and cry my eyes out).

i can't help but think maybe some of mars's fans ship them (and I can see why xD). but these two are better off being the best frienemies. (but maybe in an alternate universe… who knows… they might be a thing…) [slaps myself] [drags myself away from the mic] ok that's enough delusional talk for today…

2. thame and po; "i find comfort in you"

when messages from the company buzzed into thame's phone endlessly, thame was visibly restless. he knew what he did was causing more damage to the company. but damage to the company equates to chances for his friendship to mend. so, thame took every chance he had to seize it, despite the circumstances.

in this scene, po addressed that thame should at least give a call or do something to clear the air. but I think thame has better judgement and control over the issue, that's why he ignored it and turned off his phone. clearly, thame was searching for a distraction. he didn't want to think about this problem now. he just wanted peace. and being with po gave him peace.

so they did this activity together; thame threading the thread into the needle while po was doing another fixing. it's a therapeutic activity for thame, and we can see how he immediately relaxes once po stops pushing the idea of confronting the problem right now. it's so thoughtful of po, and I'm happy that thame noticed it too.

all the while, his eyes were always at po. he was looking. studying. understanding. i think thame found so much comfort just in po's presence because of po's quietness. he's such a grounding figure, and I think it helps thame both grasp the essence of reality while also indulging in this dream-like sensation whenever they're together.

the stares… thame's smile. oh. by now I know, thame's feelings for po are certain. but how about po? i don't know about others, but to me, po's still struggling. still healing. still scared. but he's slowly opening up again towards the end of this episode. it's so bittersweet.

it's also very heartbreaking how po quickly apologised because he thought he caused another trouble for thame—and thame did the same, insisting he was another damage po needed to fix. these two deserve each other because they'll help each other realise just how important love and sincerity are. these will be their strongest suits when they're in a relationship, but also be a double-edged sword if they don't overcome their weakness: communication.

some words don't have to be spoken to be understood. this is when thame and po are speaking the language of love and affection. but they tend to keep everything to themselves whenever danger arrives. i hope they can deal with this together because if they don't, it'll be another gut-wrenching heartbreak for them.

i don't know if thame is aware of how po's world has turned downside up whenever he offers a promise of sincerity and comfort. i also don't know if po is aware of how thame's world has turned upside down whenever he offers a promise of peace and assurance. i hope they do. someday.

3. messages po didn't send — "i see you in ways I didn't before"

early on in episode one, we were informed that po was a clingy lover. it might be one of the things that earn despised (I'm just assuming this because they made po being clingy as a negative for his character).

po was restless. he knew thame would handle it well with jun, but he couldn't help but worry. it's clear that thame has become an important figure in his life, but to what extent? i think po's still clueless about it, too.

these messages, he kept typing and deleting. he wanted to send them, but he didn't want to come off as 'clingy' in thame's eyes. he didn't want thame to be annoyed or—hate him—for worrying—for caring.

but i believe, in one way or another, thame will enjoy this attention from po in the future. the messages po will send to thame definitely will help thame emotionally. it's going to be so vital in their upcoming relationship as they have to be secretive about it. these texts will save and heal them. i hope it won't destroy them, though…

throughout the episode, i was a bit frustrated because thame—friend—how can you not save po's phone number? or at least give him a call from po's phone so that you could have his number immediately?

but when i watched this episode again… i realised… perhaps the reason why thame didn't save po's number—not until his friendship with jun was salvaged—was probably because it was at this point that thame was certain of his feelings for po.

thame has always had feelings for po, even from the first event he saw po briefly. but this was the time that thame knew he liked po, romantically. some might say it's too fast, but for someone like thame who might never have a chance for romantic relationships throughout the years of being in mars, meeting someone as incredible as po, how could he not harbour feelings?

when thame said he wanted to remember po's number, it was him wanting to remember po's existence forever—he wanted to keep po in his memory for a lifetime. it was thame accepting that he's in fact… in love with po.

the severity of his emotions is still on the surface, but it's more than enough for thame to act on it—to have po in every way possible. thame wouldn't want to forget his saviour, his future lover.

when he repeated the number after po, it echoed and reverberated not only in thame but also po. maybe at this point, they're almost reaching the same line, but po needs a little more push to come clean with feelings. and I have a feeling next week will be po's trigger in accepting his fond feelings for thame. (the smile on po's face is so precious... :( I hope he has more reasons to smile now because of thame...)

but at what cost?

if i can make speculation, next week's episode will be rough and heartbreaking because thame's going to confront someone who holds a grudge against him—the fire in the group—dylan.

it's either dylan will burn thame to ashes, or thame will let dylan burn him to cinders, or po will tame dylan's fire for thame. it could be all. and I'm so excited about every possibility.

[inchidentally]

we all know Oscar speaks to media in carefully rehearsed and self-approved soundbites rather than risk impromptu vulnerability. which as a total side note is so fascinating bc he and Lando both call themselves over-thinkers but it manifests for Oscar in choosing to risk potentially being misconstrued as reserved or even cold/apathetic over giving the media/unkind public any part of his heart or soul to play with - whereas with Lando, he'd rather maintain the freedom of authenticity and then weather the brutal storms of being misunderstood - or accidentally misrepresenting himself. Oscar has no interest in becoming known as Himself, he just wants to be there in the racing history books with the people he's always admired and measured himself against. Lando wants to write his own story and have it be remembered by those who matter to him, Oscar wants to keep himself to himself and only focus on the parts of his career that matter to him and those close to him.

it's such a unique distinction between them and is equally laudable and authentic, but it's also so much a part of how they just Work So Well despite not taking a single one of the obvious easy methods to establish a friendship/bond or using any of the obvious easy ways to maintain it. (and even more notable bc unlike Lando with Carlos and Daniel where there was the age/life/hobbies difference and Lando had to adapt to the older guy's interest and friend groups, Lando and Oscar could've easily rolled with already sharing mutual friends, starting out in the same karting company, the same video games, same generation and references, and crucially Lando's best friend for life. the way they could have utilized all of that to push the great new bromance but didn't. that Max comfortably brings up Oscar on his stream so it's not like there's any issue there. it was a deliberate choice for them not to lean into something - at least publicly! - that the public would absolutely eat up.) like, they started from the mutual respect for what they're both trying to achieve in this sport and their own personal struggles and have built entirely off of that foundation. idk that fact and the way that get caught tilting their heads and smiling fondly at each other still just akjkkasfgagfagjflsagflj)

and like, Lando's deep pride in what they've built together as teammates and the history they are creating together and him finding his leadership and his strength in no longer being the kid, the little brother or the fanboy.

ANYWAY SORRY Oscar's soundbites are in no way fake or PR or advised by anyone else, it's that they're pre-rehearsed and parsed for anything a stranger could get their fangs into. he doesn't want any of his life with Lily out there for consumption so he lets her take the couple photos for his IG and he has his "my girlfriend would say/think/do" lines ready to go where they can be inserted and satisfy people wanting more of his romantic life. and the safety of Mark Webber as yes a supportive/father figure in his life but also a good source of harmless media humor. he has his "thanks to the fans and sponsors" "good to see all the fans out there" "my main focus is to improve my own performance" etc etc ready to go when talking about racing and what is owed to the people allowing him to have this rarified career. bc all of that is his Adult Life and happened after he became aware that gaining notoriety and sharing bits of his life would inevitably have it's very bad side. even tho he met Lily and Mark in his teens, his career and life trajectory were much closer to what his life is now than his life at say 14/15/16.

but he avoids or stumbles when talking about his own family, how he feels about the team in his garage who so closely represent people he doesn't want to disappoint, about Lando, about guys like Logan and Liam who he's spent significant parts of his childhood with, has only once mentioned Max F despite them being wrapped up in COVID protocol together and Max confirming that their relationships is still really good. the threads to childhood and a time when his privacy was never an issue are way too live and charged with those topics - to different degrees and different ways, but it's the same reason why he clams up and often doesn't have a handy soundbite ready.

WHERE I'M GOING WITH THIS holy shit I cannot fucking stop rambling - is that him constantly saying how Baku meant more to him than Hungary and that Hungary was about ticking a box but Baku was when he knew how it felt to truly win - is because sometimes the soundbites are for necessity and to avoid further probing. the sponsors, his romantic life tidbits, the way he's trying to improve himself - sometimes they're specifically so that he can offer up a pink, beating piece of his own heart to show to people while never putting it directly in their hands.

Lando, their relationship, their teammate dynamic, what they talk about, the emotions they feel about each other, what happens behind that shared doorway of theirs - all of that is Off Limits and even the soundbites are incredibly rare. (the tiny glimpse of their solidarity against DTS with the "no, I'm with my team" "fuck 'em" and the intensity of looking into each other's eyes while they mutually process things being both a little eerie but so <3 !!) equally he will NOT talk about how he loves or feels about his mum, dad and sisters or any feelings and the soundbites are even rarer.

there's something to be said about neurodivergence and the decisions over what feels intimate in a controlled, safe reliable way (Lily, his own race performances, Mark Webber, funnily enough now in a smaller way Carlos who he admires/gets uniquely annoyed by) and what feels intimate in a don't-have-full-control, tied to childhood emotions, kinda scary way (his family, Lando, the impact he has on his team/McLaren) and it not at ALL meaning that one is more or less or important than the other, just different - but that is wayyyyyy too overstepping even for me to go into/even be able to go into or theorize. it's just kinda... (wild gesturing) there.

but Lando, Hungary, Baku… those have dark, visceral blood running through them. those things slot directly, terrifyingly into his hidden most intimate childhood feelings about dreams, ambitions, sacrifices, passions, insecurities, pains and joys etc (Andrea kissing both their heads lovingly?? feels so indicative and expressive on it's own of what was going on). Lando as a person and a driver pushing so fully into Oscar's attention and his ambition from literally age 13/14 - and not in the usual pre-F1 likes/comments that we as fans knowingly blow up into something deeper than it is - but in a oh wow he truly notched Lando into his own personal measure of ambition and also just found him fascinating/cool in a way he didn't do with any other driver! and it remained fully consistent up until he had Lando in his day-to-day life and didn't need to follow him any other way anymore! but it's unchanged from telling his mum he won't have to face such harsh expectations his first season bc Lando is so good to just recently saying he's proud to have The Best as his teammate to measure against. that's just !!! that's perilously close to an open heart!!

so when he cultivates soundbites for these things to present to the media/public, it's far from him dulling them down or acting dispassionate: in that case he could choose to just cultivate a white lie or a bland enough fib to get people off his back. it's actually because he so badly wants the world to know that he /knows/ Hungary was a mess and that neither he nor Lando ever had a hope of not being as vilified by one side as they were angrily defended by the other. that the relief of Baku that was evident in BOTH of them is something Real To Him. he will NOT say he didn't earn Hungary and he will NOT say that he ever would have expected Lando to be okay with giving back the lead bc neither of those things has ever been a question for him. but he very much does want people to see him authentically and feel the warmth behind the words when he says that Baku is for him The Win he wants to talk about and it's for the reasons we can easily assume. that if he speaks any more plainly than the soundbite then Lando's fans could rip into it or his own fans could rip into Lando over it or F1 fans could start claiming he's a cold blooded winner OR a teammate simp who doesn't have the killer instinct needed.

no, he won't hand that over to the media or the masses. he'll give a private little smile, add a warm, soft knowing lilt to his voice and return to Baku 2024 as the moment when his childhood earnestness hugged his adult ambition and that Lando and the Team and Andrea and his family are all tied up in that in ways that anyone with basic empathy can imagine. if someone needs it spelled out, if they are too biased or too dense or too emotionally undeveloped to learn human beings based on anything except dumb, deliberate invasiveness then they're precisely the people he's intending to keep at the gate. (*because it's precisely those people who have also latched their teeth onto Lando's vulnerability, claiming to be his biggest fans, storming around the internet and comments sections speaking for him and about him with an authority they never earned and being just as misguided and wrong as the people who only want to hate him)

idk just, every time he talks about Baku and gets that sweet smile on his face and I remember Lando striding around with sweet freedom filling his lungs and leaping up to shower Oscar in champagne at the group photo and the utter giddiness shared in having that awful shadow's chill off of them… like, it means SO much to him <3<3

[ocean-bookss]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 💞

͝✧ ִ ׁ ♡ ֹ ִ ✧ ͝

Leon Kennedy x (female) Reader - Oneshot

Words: 941

͝✧ ִ ׁ ♡ ֹ ִ ✧ ͝

The living room was filled with laughter, soft music, and the gentle crackling of the fireplace. Claire poured more wine, Chris was telling some absurd story about an old mission, and Hunnigan just shook her head as she grabbed another piece of bread with dip.

I was sitting next to Leon on the sofa, his hand resting casually on my thigh, and the warmth of his touch burned through the fabric of my tights directly onto my skin. His fingers gently kneaded my thigh as our knees brushed against each other repeatedly. It was such a small detail, yet it made my stomach tighten every time our eyes met.

“Do you want another drink?” he asked suddenly, his voice deep and calm. I shook my head with a smile and raised my glass slightly. “I’m good for now. But thanks.” He nodded and grinned softly before leaning back again. Claire glanced over at us, her eyebrows rising suggestively, but she didn’t say anything.

I shot her a playful warning look, lowering my eyebrows dramatically. Claire chuckled quietly and took a sip from her glass. Leon looked between the two of us, a questioning expression on his face. Finally, he removed his hand from my thigh, placed it behind my back instead, and gently pulled me closer to him.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a crooked grin.

I looked into his eyes, then briefly down at his lips before replying playfully, “Nothing.”

Leon huffed amused but let it go.

͝ ͝ ͝ ͝ ͝ ✧ ִ ׁ ♡ ֹ ִ ✧ ͝ ͝ ͝ ͝ ͝

A few hours later, the group bundled up warmly. Claire was the first to rush outside, Chris followed with a box full of fireworks, and Hunnigan carried a bottle of champagne. Leon and I were the last to step outside, the cold winter air hitting us and creating small clouds with every breath we exhaled. The snow crunched under our boots as the sky began to fill with the first small fireworks.

“Wow,” Claire murmured, staring up in awe.

“Here,” she said, handing each of us a sparkler. Leon lit mine before lighting his own. The warm light of the sparklers reflected in his blue eyes, and for a moment, he looked… peaceful. The darkness surrounding us made the light shine even brighter. I held my sparkler slightly farther away than necessary, worried a spark might land on my coat. Leon noticed and chuckled softly.

“You’re really brave, aren’t you?” he teased.

“I’m just cautious,” I replied with a grin.

He lifted his sparkler in front of him and began drawing shapes in the air. “Alright, (Y/n). What’s this?”

I squinted, trying to make sense of the glowing trail in the air. “A… star?”

“Correct!” he confirmed proudly and gestured with the sparkler again.

“A house!” I called out quickly this time.

Leon grinned broadly and nodded. Finally, he held the sparkler steady and drew something slower. It took me a few seconds to recognize it.

“A heart,” I said softly.

His gaze met mine, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “Not bad, detective,” he murmured.

“I knew you were a romantic,” I teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

The sparkler in my hand flickered one last time and went out. A thin trail of smoke rose into the cold night air before fading away. Leon hesitated for a brief moment before placing a hand on my waist and gently pulling me closer. My heart skipped a beat as I looked into his blue eyes, which were locked on mine. Above us, the first big fireworks exploded, painting the sky in red, gold, and silver.

Behind us, I could hear Claire calling, “Happy New Year!” But her voice felt distant as Leon leaned slightly closer and kissed me. It wasn’t our first kiss, but this one felt different calmer, deeper, as if it carried all the words he couldn’t say out loud. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

When we finally pulled away, he whispered softly, “Happy New Year, (Y/n).” His hand brushed gently over my waist, and his gaze was serious but soft at the same time. “You know… I really like you.”

My heart was racing, and yet this moment felt so calm. “I like you too, Leon. I have for quite a while.”

A small smile crossed his face before he reached for my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. He took a deep breath as if gathering his courage before finally asking, “Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/n)?”

The fireworks continued to burst in the sky, golden sparks raining down and casting everything around us in a magical glow. For a moment, I could only smile before nodding. “Yes, Leon. I’d love to.”

He pulled me into his arms again, his forehead resting against mine, and I could feel him exhale with relief. The rest of the world seemed to fall silent for a moment.

But this time, he didn’t wait long. With a gentle tug on my waist, he pulled me even closer and kissed me again. This kiss was different from the first slower, deeper, filled with unspoken promises. His lips were warm, and despite the freezing night air, I felt like I was glowing from the inside out.

In the background, I could hear Claire laughing, Hunnigan clinking glasses with Chris, and the faint scent of smoke and snow lingering in the air. But none of it could overshadow this moment. Because as the new year began, it felt like something new had also begun between us.

[psychebutterflysol]

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡: 𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗘

a/u: am I the only one who loath LaDS. the fans are so obnoxious and how bad was the main plot for ppl to think the OIs didn't have any chemistry with the FL????? also, I heard it's the same storyline again, "I sacrificed blad blah blah for this one girl!!!" or I'm just too selfish to be willing to burn the world for my love. anyways, enjoy this rushed and ass piece of writing. thank you for all the likes in the previous post, i didnt expect it to become popular!

part 0

warning: poorly written drowning scene, trauma

the first thing you did was choke. unlike the ocean you were drowned into, the coldness jolted you awake. unable to process anything beyond the fact that you were drowning, your attempts at reaching the surface had been proven to be futile. the waves tied you down, beckoning you to sink deeper and deeper. you thrashed, your mouth filled with water and the light faded gradually before your eyes. exhaustion started to overtake your body as dark spots danced in your vision. as you prepared yourself to meet your demise, for you thought this was all but a sudden burst of strength, a force yanked you out of the water. blurry faces and shouting voices, you succumbed to the temptations of a sweet slumber, despite your terribly drenched figure.

"ah!" a scream that sounded too foreign escaped your mouth upon waking up. a headache made itself comfortable, as you frantically looked around your surroundings and kicked off the blanket. fear coursed through your veins, making it difficult for you to comprehend the events. the memories of the execution seared into your mind tainted your memories, and scorched your heart. trembling hands tightened around your body, as your head hung down. dread churned your stomach for a few moments ago, you were still accused of blasphemy and fraud, regarded as an imposter, bad omen they told you. you could hear the chants of the people, the archons' glares, the ceremony atmosphere, the name callings, and-

-her weeping.

something finally cracked inside you and without a thought, you threw the nearby vase on the door, realizing too late that someone was entering. you watched, with a hidden anger as the servant managed to dodge it skillfully.

when crepus, her master, returned with an unconscious child, who showed signs of drowning, adelinde was less than bewildered. even kaeya, his most recent adoption, wasn't in such a bad state. they were barely breathing in crepus's arms, curling up like some sort of defense. being the head maid, she was quick to order others to clean the guest bedroom and settle the child there. their outfit stuck out like a sore thumb, a jarring resemblance to a prisoner. adelinde couldn't fathom the pain they had probably gone through before being rescued by her master. she had intended to get them a nice meal, albeit crepus's cautious warnings, but in return, she almost got hit with the object. their eyes were brimmed with an underlying wrath, terrify, and odd hatred. due to adelinde's experience, she was lucky not to get hurt.

"good morning, little one."

was this whole thing a fever dream?

if not so, then someone in this forsaken world explained to you why the head maid of the ragnvindr was here? with a trait of breakfast on her hands, and a gentle smile.

you didn't recall being greeted like that during the chase.

and what did she just say? little one? please, you were almost as old as-

now that you had been on a more stable ground, you realized your body was shrunken. paying no attention to the uninvited visitor, you took a quick glance at the mirror.

you....became a child?

"are you alright? master crepus found you on the brink of death."

"i-i'm alright." you stammered on your words, feeling strange now that your vocal cords were working properly. a careful examination of your body told you enough about your physical condition. by some miracles you didn't pray for, you had been placed into the past, judging from how crepus was still alive.

you looked at your hands, smooth and untouched, a dazed expression on your face. you bit back an urge to bitterly laugh.

why?

just why?

your pleas for a chance of salvation fell deaf on the ears of divinity, and when you had braced yourself for death, it stole that peace away.

did that mean.....you could change these characters' fates?

maybe, in a faraway universe, a distant past, you would have been excited, elated at this prospect. it would have been a fun journey of meeting characters you had grown attached to and uncovering secrets that hadn't been shown in the game.

the only thing you were capable of feeling now was rage and vengeance. it hungered and starved for that twisted satisfaction you gained whenever you were successful at deceiving someone. it wanted, so painfully, nothing more than to bring forth destruction to this fake world, tearing its skin apart until there was nothing left but void.

"i'm very thankful that you saved me." you whispered softly, resting your head on your knees and darting your eyes away to give off the impression of a young, innocent child.

"oh no! no need for thanking me. it was my master that did all the works. i'm but a humble maid doing her job." adelinde chuckled and set the plate on the counter, a softened look dabbed on her face. you held back from pointing and laughing at her stupidity but were well aware of her suspicious occupation.

"I owe my life to your master then." you clasped your hands, eyes savoring the appeal of the meal. the aroma engulfed your nostrils, as it had been a long time ever since you were fed acutely.

"be sure to have enough rest, and make yourself home. master crepus would visit you later." adelinde chirped, seemingly unaware as she smiled at your dazzling eyes.

oh, you were going to enjoy your time here.

very, very much.

[nesaluvstherecoms]

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Sickness, mentions of vomiting, Miles and Lyle being a bit sexist?, mentions of death in battle, descriptions of dead Recombinant bodies, fowl language.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

“Ya know…. Ya ain’t had ta tell ‘er.”

Toddy’s voice comes out softly, her tone filled with sadness that she tries conceal, coming from her small form on the folded bed. Her delicate fingers gently move over the strings of the guitar that’s resting on her lap, testing the notes and tightening them as needed. Meanwhile the male Recom watches carefully from the doorway, his Na’vi eyes cascading over the beautiful human girl, her figure tiny in contrast to his as she remains sat up on the medical wing bed, with her back leaning against the raised cushions behind her.

“They hadn’t refrigerated your insulin properly again, had they?” Henry replies instead, ignoring her statement as his dark pupils follow the woman’s gorgeous face, paler than usual. By looking at her, he can tell what has happened. She throws up for hours on end if the insulin she takes for her diabetes has gone bad, her body forcing her to expel out everything and anything that’s in her stomach during those hours. It drains her body of any strength in her muscles, and she becomes as pale as a ghost, ending her up in the medical wing each time.

Hearing that, Toddy’s dark brown eyes hood over either in sadness or disappointment, the Recom can’t tell.

“Yeah…” She whispers softly, before adjusting the position of the acoustic guitar to rest against her thin body so she can start playing it. Soon, the gentle notes of the music fill the cold medical room, bouncing softly against the dull colored walls. Henry watches as a small smile forms on Toddy’s plump, scarred lips, the music comforting to her. Her wavy blond hair falls forward on her shoulders as she leans onto her guitar, her long fingers stroking the strings expertly.

“I know how to hold a grudge.

I can send a bridge up in smoke.

An’ I can't count the people I've let down, the hearts I've broke.

You ain't gotta dig too deep.

If ya wanna find some dirt on me.

But I'm learnin’ who you've been.

Ain't who you've gotta be.

It's gonna be an uphill climb.

Aw honey, I won't lie.”

Henry listens to the girl’s beautiful voice as she sings her comfort song, the melody of her tone immediately calming his racing mind as well, his tail no longer stiff and now slowly flicking from side to side behind him. He remains silent, just watching her from the doorway while he sips some carbon dioxide from his Recom Breather, mesmerized, as she seems to momentarily forget her troubles while she continues, her angelic voice steady and controlled despite what her body has been enduring for the day.

“I ain't no angel.

I still got a few more dances with the devil.

I'm cleanin' up ma act, little by little.

I'm gettin’ there.

I can finally stand the man in the mirror I see.

I ain't as good as I'm gonna get.

But I'm better than I used ta be.”

The melody from her guitar continues as her nimble fingers dance upon the strings, accompanying her singing voice. She soon closes her eyes, focusing her mind on nothing but the notes that are coming from the instrument.

The Recom uncrosses his muscular tattooed arms and slowly walks over to the hospital bed she’s sitting up on, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling, before sitting down at the end of her bed, by her feet. He then rests his elbows on top of the military knee pads strapped to his legs, before turning to look at her, his tail flicking once behind him, draped over the bed and falling on the other side.

“She had a right to know, Toddy. Sometimes, people need to prepare for the death of someone, emotionally.” He explains to her softly, addressing her earlier statement. The girl doesn’t answer. Instead she continues playing the song on her guitar, her elegant fingers not stopping their beautiful strokes upon the strings.

“I've pinned a lot of demons to the ground.

Got a few old habits left.

But there's still one or two I might need you to help me get.

Standin' in the rain so long has left me with a little rust.

But put some faith in me.

And someday you'll see.

There's a diamond under all this dust.

I ain't no angel.

I still got a few more dances with the devil.

I'm cleanin' up ma act, little by little.

I'm gettin’ there.

I can finally stand the man in the mirror I see.

I ain't as good as I'm gonna get.

But I'm better than I used ta be.

I ain't no angel.

I still got a few more dances with the devil.

I'm cleanin' up ma act, little by little.

I'm gettin’ there.

I can finally stand the man in the mirror I see.

I ain't as good as I'm gonna get.

But I'm better than I used ta be.”

She finishes her angelic singing, accompanying it with a bit more music from her guitar as she beautifully plays the end notes. After a few more seconds, her movements halt, the music dissipating with her hand hovering over the instrument. Silence falls. Then she speaks.

“She don’ care about ma death. She don’ know me that way. Ya didn’ have ta tell ‘er. Now she gon’ treat me differently.” She replies as she raises her voice slightly at him, her pretty eyes, thickened by contact lenses, mirroring the sadness in her tone. Henry frowns, his cropped ears folding back at her words.

“Why would you say that?” He asks, his eyes looking at the tiny human’s beautiful face. A shiny coat of tears forms on the girl’s waterline, wetting her long lashes.

“It’s the truth.” She chokes out, her soothing voice running out near the end of her sentence. The Recom’s frown deepens, his brain working to figure out why the hell she would even think this way. He leans towards her, his upper body weight shifting to his left elbow, as his amber eyes focus on her tearing up, human form.

“Toddy, do you know how many people on this base get to spend time with Y/N?”

The girl raises her head at that, her pretty, wet eyes, looking over curiously at the large Recom sat at the end of her bed. Henry’s frown then falters, slowly turning into a soft smile.

“None.” He says, his own eyes looking over at her gently. “Not me. Not our team. Not even Captain Keller. Yes, we do interact with her, and yes, we all care about her and she cares about us, but Y/N is a loner. She doesn’t like showing people anything else than her commander side. And there’s no one else who she prefers to spend more time with besides her and herself. Meanwhile only some months in, and she has already been friendly with you since you met. Joined you in one of your direhorse riding afternoons, and rode one herself no less! Do you know how many times I have begged her to even come check out the botanical labs’ gardens with me? And you got her to do that, form a neural bond for the first time AND ride a direhorse in less than two hours!”

Toddy giggles sweetly at Henry’s enthusiastic and amazed expression, lowering her head to look down at her guitar with a beautiful smile. The Recom tilts his head at her reaction, a gentle smile of his own on his lips as his cropped ears slightly tilt back. He slowly reaches towards her, placing a comforting hand on her thin but firm right shoulder. She looks up at him, her doe eyes staring into his amber ones.

“Besides, she keeps coming back to you. If it was anyone else, she wouldn’t have even spared them a glance. You’re more special to her than you think, Toddy.” He tells her gently, squeezing her shoulder. A small smile forms on Toddy’s plump lips, her cheeks blushing lightly in a beautiful soft red.

“I… I didn’ know that.” She whispers softly, looking down. Henry gives her a gentle smile, before shifting in place, going back to leaning with his elbows on his knees. He takes a moment to take a sip of carbon dioxide, the gas feeling like pure relief in his lungs as they expand to receive it. His ears twitch for a moment, while his wrapped tail flicks once behind him.

“Tell you what. In two weeks, Y/N has two days off. Courtesy of Ardmore since she has done an amazing job throughout these months. Why don’t you take her to that special spot in the forest? The one where you go to when you want to escape the world?”

Toddy’s dark brown eyes light up at the idea, as she immediately raises her head to look up at Henry. Her heart starts pounding in her chest, and she clutches the instrument on her lap.

“D’ya think she’d come with me?” She asks, a certain glint in her pupils, clearly excited but unsure about it. The handsome Recom soldier smiles sweetly at her, leaning over to gently brush a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try now, would it?”

“What’s this?” Y/N asks with a raised brow, staring down at the slim stack of printed papers that the large man in front of her just passive-aggressively put down on her desk, right in front of her.

“The report you requested, ma’am.” Miles replies, an almost irritated tone in his raspy voice as he speaks. Y/N takes a good look down at the thin stack of papers on her desk, before raising her eyes to look up at him instead, one of her elegant brows remaining arched.

“And you finished, this early? It’s only been two weeks.” She more states than asks before lowering her eyes down again. “Paper? Really? Where are we, the 20th century? Where did you even find it?” She adds, gripping a corner of one of the white pages to tug at it in annoyance. Miles purses his lips, his eyes following the movement of her elegant hand, encased in a fine, black tactical glove.

“It’s an important report. It ain’t worth risking havin’ it in a database where other people can access it.” He replies, moving his head to look over at her face. But that answer does not seem to impress Y/N.

“You do realize we have the most secure database in the entire Universe, right?” She states back, raising her head to look up at him like he’s slow.

At that, Miles’ tail twitches behind him in annoyance. He takes a moment to reach below his neck and pick up his Recom Breather mask, bringing it up to his face for a sip.

“I don’t understand why you’re makin’ such a fuss out of this.” He replies, looking back at her more intensively now, as the first tingles of irritation creep on his blue skin. Upon receiving that response, Y/N’s sharp eyes narrow down at him.

“Watch your mouth.” She warns calmly but firmly with her ears slightly folding back, before her right gloved hand slides the stack forward on the smooth, polished surface of the desk, towards him.

“Remake this.” She then orders, staring down at the papers, before her pupils move up to his face again. “And next time when you’re finished, I want it in my datapad. I don’t want you storming into my office again for insignificant matters like this. I don’t care how you remember things being done around here, but it’s been fourteen years and things have changed. How can you call yourself a Colonel and not even be able to write a report correctly?” Y/N then adds in annoyance, not missing how Miles’ eyes narrow down at her as she gives her verdict.

“You want me to remake it? Ya ain’t even spare it a glance.” He retaliates as he tilts his chin down, his deep voice laced with slowly flaring up anger.

“I don’t need to.” Y/N replies back, continuing to stare up at him as she remains seated on her desk. “I know it’s not good enough. It’s approximately five pages long. And considering how much you fucked up at the Three Brothers alone, it should be at least twenty pages long.”

“Twenty pages?! Ya want me to write twenty pages on what I did wrong? Are you kidding me?! Do ya know how much twenty pages is?!” Miles’ voice raises in tone, his brows furrowing deeply at the woman in front of him, still sat comfortably on her spacious office desk.

“Is that a problem?” Y/N replies, her own tone now lowering dangerously, her sharp saffron eyes narrowing at his large form, pinning him. Her gloved hands clasp together on the surface of her desk, slim fingers intertwining.

Miles’ jaw clenches tightly, his masseter muscles contracting at the sides of his handsome face as his long tail twitches behind him in agitation. Now he remembers why he disliked her so much that day of the meeting. He hates how she speaks to him. All high and mighty in her comfortable chair, sitting in one of the most luxurious offices in the entire base, treating him like another rogue soldier, like a pest she can’t seem to get rid of. She seems to think she’s better than him, way above him in every single aspect. Well not by a fucking long shot. He earned his rank, honorably, while she was handed hers like candy. She has no right to even let her eyes look down on him like that. What the hell was Ardmore even thinking, making this spoiled bitch Major General?

But somewhat, he is used to the constant reminders of his failed mission by now. The most prominent being how the Deja Blu dorms are completely empty, with only him and Lyle occupying the space. The laughter and chatter of his team and Spider doesn’t fill the halls anymore, doesn’t comfort him, doesn’t snap him out of the void when he’s thinking. When he’s in his room, alone, questioning his identity, his purpose. It’s just quiet. Dead quiet.

His large, veiny hand reaches forward, gripping the thin stack of papers firmly, and picking it up from her desk.

“No, ma’am. No problem. I’ll remake it.” He replies in a low tone, his deep voice now smooth and controlled again. He makes eye contact with her one last time, his pupils lingering a bit more than they should on hers and her beautiful eyelashes, before saluting her briefly out of respect and turning on his heel to walk out of her office, long tail flicking behind him. His heavy combat boots thud on the hardwood floor as he walks out, the sound filling the large, otherwise silent space. When the sliding door finally closes behind his tall, muscular frame, Y/N brings her gloved hands up to rub her temples, elbows resting on her desk as she sighs heavily.

“God, he’s insufferable.”

。。。

The metal door slides closed behind Miles with a click. As soon as he’s in the clear, his fists clench, the report easily bunching up, the paper crumpling to a crisp in his left hand. He stands in the hallway outside her office, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His right hand moves up, soon his long fingers running through the short strands of his black hair, out of habit. They’re longer than he remembers. Looks like he needs a trim. How long has it been since the last one? Weeks? No, months.

He’ll have Lyle do that later. The man might be bald but he’s good with a trimmer. The corners of Miles’ lips curl up a bit as a memory suddenly resurfaces at the thought, his cropped ears twitching in amusement. Lyle might be good with a trimmer but he never got to cut those god awful dreadlocks from Spider’s head. He even chased him around multiple times, going from suggesting - to threatening- to practically begging Spider to let him give him a haircut, insisting that his hairstyle was borderline a biohazard and a breeding ground for fleas. But the boy never faltered, instead flipped him off each time while cursing at him, sometimes in English, sometimes in Na’vi, telling him that he’d rather have this hairstyle than look like a striped blue ballsack. Miles lets out a soft huff of amusement at the memory, his problems momentarily forgotten, before his smile soon falls again, and his piercing stare hardens, the light in his amber eyes draining completely in a flash at a new memory.

“Son… come with me.”

He reaches out towards the boy, his palm open, waiting for him to grab on. He pants hard, his lungs still burning painfully from almost drowning to death in the icy waters of the sea, as the metallic tang of fresh blood lingers heavily in his mouth. His banshee lets out a heavy grunt, its neck vibrating, as it senses its owner’s state, beaten and battered to a pulp.

Spider also pants, his stripe-painted chest heaving up and down with each breath, the fresh cut from that animal woman’s blade now deeply engraved upon the human’s flesh. Miles’ eyes are vulnerable, pleading, just wanting the boy to come to him, like a father yearning for his son’s warmth, and Spider has never seen something alike. He hesitates for a second, hypnotized at the sight, at the desperation in the man’s pupils, before his brown eyes soon harden through the oxygen mask at the Recombinant, filling with anger, resentment. He leans forward just slightly to hiss threateningly at the man, as best as a human can, before forcefully throwing upon the rock below them the yellow rescue vest that he used to pull him out of the water. He turns, turning his back towards the Recom, then he jumps. The cold water splashes, foaming at the surface, and just like that, the boy is gone. His boy is gone. Miles’ amber eyes immediately sadden deeply, staring at the ripples on the surface as they disrupt the waves of the sea, splashing forcefully against the shore.

“Spider!” He calls out, letting out a final breath of desperation. He has no other choice but to quickly gather himself, and turns to climb on the saddle of his banshee, his chest now weighing painfully from the inside.

Miles lets his eyes squeeze shut for a moment, trying to calm down his heart that seems to have started beating rapidly at the memory. He brings his Recom Breather mask up, and takes a few deep breaths, clearing his mind. Soon enough, his eyelids lift again, his demeanor returning to normal, as if nothing ever happened. He can’t think about that. At least not right now. He has a bigger problem.

He lowers his head down, his sharp eyes falling on the thin stack crunched up in a death grip in his left fist. He takes in an annoyed breath, shaking his head in disbelief before exhaling through his feline nose with a sigh.

“Goddamnit. She gets under my skin like no one else.” He mutters to himself, before his boots move from their spot on the hallway floor, and he starts heading for his own office, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallway.

Lyle Wainfleet knows what it feels like to be watched. Especially in the bitter forests of Pandora, where all kinds of eerie, alien creatures keep their multiple pairs of eyes on him every breath he takes, their ears moving in rhythm with the crunch of every leaf or plant that he steps on. He knows what it feels like to be the center of attention in a mission, where human soldiers keep their focus on him, taking in his actions in the battlefield, some looking for guidance, while the rest look to judge. He knows what it feels like to have the natives watch him, yellow Na’vi eyes following him in fear as he moves while others following in hatred, their black pupils filled with the desire for blood, to hunt him down, kill him. He knows what it feels like to have Quaritch’s sharp, intense gaze on him when he’s given an order, ensuring that his team lieutenant and his right hand man completes it flawlessly to the last word. And let him tell you, the sheer pressure in the Colonel’s crushing stare is enough to make the toughest of men cry.

However, none of the experiences above seem to have been quite like the one he’s experiencing right now…

“God, he’s so bald.”

“Is he just like that or does he shave it? I mean his neural whip is covered by hair.”

“That’s just an odd fuckin’ combination, innit?”

“Wot is he even doin’? Bloke’s been at it fer forte minutes already.”

“God, give me patience…” Lyle mutters annoyed and under his breath, the heel of his gloved palm pushing the freshly reloaded clip of the handgun he’s holding into the magazine, its click ringing through the artillery room. He tries to tune out the voices of the four large Recom men behind him, instead focusing on the task at hand as he grabs the next pistol out of the pile of guns on the table, before carefully dismantling it for cleaning.

After the clusterfuckery of a mission at The Three Brothers, Quaritch has been busy twenty four-seven with the punishments laid onto him by the Major General. The training has proven to be hard on him, especially since Second Lieutenant Jones insists on engaging him for prolonged hours every day, straining every last one of his muscles to the point of exhaustion. Apparently, General L/N was not happy with his report either, as Lyle learned later on that day when Miles came back to the dorms around midnight, after having locked himself in his office all afternoon, trying to redo the document to her standards. He was huffing and cursing under his breath, calling the General all the names in the book, and Lyle doesn’t blame him. This is just excessive at this point. She is blowing this completely out of proportion, acting like Quaritch killed those men by his own hand. I mean what does she expect? This is war, of course things will go south sometimes. But this is just making things more complicated. Lyle huffs. Women. Always so damn dramatic for nothing.

But after Quaritch was given his reprimands, Lyle didn’t escape unscathed either. The General’s right hand man, Captain Keller, took it upon himself to hold Lyle responsible too. In his words: “For enabling an officer to act against rules and regulations, and aiding him in unauthorized war conduct.”. And for this, he gave Quaritch’s right hand man a whopping four months of weaponry maintenance and cleaning duty, along with discharging him from his position until the Colonel is given back his privileges.

Lyle’s jaw tightens in dissatisfaction as that conversation starts replaying in his head. It’s not like he could’ve done anything besides following his Colonel’s orders, it’s his job after all. With Lyle being his team lieutenant, then what Quaritch says goes, and who is Lyle to defy orders? I mean, Quaritch’s punishment was fair to some degree because some of the fault was his, but of course somebody had to share the blame. Still, to Lyle, this whole ordeal is just bullshit blown out of proportion. Punishing Quaritch for something that was ultimately out of his control, and then going after his trusted aide for good measure? How were they supposed to know that the mission would turn out that way? How were they supposed to know that suddenly the tulkun that had never in years been aggressive towards them, would suddenly bellyflop their shit when they had just gained the upper hand? So every time a mission fails, people get punished for it around here? Is this what the RDA has become? A bigoted hierarchy?

Lyle had tried arguing with the Captain, but Keller had immediately shut him down, making it clear that his opinion was worthless in the matter. And now, Lyle sits in the artillery room, taking care of the weapons for the lower raking soldiers, while four of General L/N’s men stand a few feet away, judging him from the distance. The embarrassing part is that he’s not even taking care of Recom weapons, but just the regular ones, used by your everyday RDA soldier. The reason for this apparently was that ALPHA have their own artillery man, some German Recom, who they trust most with their guns and equipment, and would never let anyone else touch their stuff besides him. It’s a tedious and thankless task for Lyle, but he pushes through, reminding himself that he could have it worse. Like the Colonel.

However, the chatter of the four men behind him is slowly getting on his nerves more and more as days go by. They’re always somehow there, judging every single move he makes, watching him like hawks. And it’s incredibly frustrating. In a military environment like the RDA, hierarchy is king and these men are slowly pushing him further down the ladder, putting him at a great disadvantage. He also has learned their names by now, hearing soldiers salute them and all. First Lieutenant Fernando Álvarez, Sergeant Major Diego Silva, Master Sergeant Oscar Bailey, and First Sergeant Scott McCaskill. They’re all already higher in rank than him, but no higher officer has ever been on his ass like this. Especially Álvarez. He’s the worst. A complete ass if you will. He’s arrogant, loud mouthed, aggressive, and has a tendency to want to humiliate Lyle in front of lower rank soldiers. He never misses a single opportunity to insult or belittle him, making snide remarks and condescending jabs at Lyle’s expense, and seems to take great pleasure in seeing the other Recom struggle with cleaning duty specifically. The tasks Álvarez assigns him are no better. They’re endless. Routine. Degrading. He assigns him to clean the artillery and training rooms regularly, help the weapon technicians with taking care of the gun and missile systems in the Armor Bay, and sends him to clean the sloppy mess of Na’vi arrows and mud caked on the vehicles that come back from the battlefield. It’s constant tiring work, over and over again, and just when Lyle thinks he’s done, Álvarez is right on his ass piling more exhausting physical tasks and checking on “calvo’s” work.

But what can Lyle do? Álvarez is L/N’s third in command, his orders are practically law. His authority and skill in the battlefield are said to be unmatched, he’s a bully by nature, and while Second Lieutenant Jones torments the recruits coming from Earth and makes them cry, Álvarez has made multiple of them piss themselves. Nevertheless, the man is an insufferable prick whose favorite pastime seems to be tormenting Lyle, and reminding him of his place in the chain of command at every opportunity he gets. At least that’s Lyle’s perception of him.

The three other Recombinants are annoying, but not as bad. Sergeant Major Silva is the only one out of the bunch that’s tolerable. He doesn’t really bother Lyle, except for the occasional jabs when Álvarez spurs him on. But sometimes he comes by when Lyle is working, and like a cat giving you a dead bird it just killed and thinking it’s a gift, he hands Lyle some form of equipment that would make the task at hand easier for him. He does this discreetly and doesn’t really speak to Lyle when he does it, just stares at him, holding out his hand and waiting for Lyle to grab the tool. Actually in some form of way, it reminds Lyle of Lopez. Friendly bullying him in front of others, then being nice to him one on one.

Lyle’s brows then furrow at that thought. No. What is he thinking? These pricks don’t even come close to his old comrades.

He actually hasn’t met the rest of General L/N’s team yet. Well at least up close. Because they were all there the day of the meeting after the failed mission, and they’re always moving around base like rats.

Lyle takes a deep breath as he puts away the freshly prepped gun he just handled, placing it nicely by the rows of other firearms he has taken care of in the past hour. He slides his chair back just enough to arch his back and lift his toned arms to stretch upwards, the joints in his spine popping while his tail raises in an arch behind him. The Recom lets out a sigh of satisfaction as he straightens his back again, his broad shoulders relaxing, and takes a blank look around. The smell of gun oil and cleaner is practically imbedded in his sensitive feline nose by now, and he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. He can still hear the chatter of the four men behind him, but it seems like they aren’t paying attention to him anymore, rather focused on their own conversation amongst each other. Lyle then stands up from the chair he was sitting, his long legs feeling sluggish as he supports his body’s weight on them. Some fresh air would actually do him good, he hasn’t had his break since starting work that morning. A can of cold beer wouldn’t hurt either. He doesn’t ponder too much on that thought, and within seconds he’s already heading out the room before Álvarez can notice, the metal doors sliding shut behind his broad frame.

。。。

The base’s large bar is the only location in Bridgehead where everyone unites together, whether that be military, scientists, scouts, Avatar or Recombinant, or any other division within the RDA. It’s the one spot where everyone can come together after a grueling workday in Pandora, and have a drink or two to calm their nerves and ease their muscles. The place itself is quite large, with rounded tables, booths and lights, which have a lit cozy orange hue during the day, and a dim purple durning the night. And as most people on base, Lyle is no stranger to this place either.

Quaritch and his team used to come here quite often after missions. They all would sit at the largest booth in the corner and order food and drinks, while reminiscing about the past and usually celebrating their accomplished missions. They even brought Spider with them a couple of times, watching as the human boy shoveled food in his mouth while the Recoms laughed in amusement and spurred him on. Meanwhile Quaritch’s brow would twitch each time as he stared at the bill, going higher and higher with every item that the boy devoured.

But now, Lyle is sitting alone on a bar stool, recalling these happy memories of his now dead comrades, as he waits with slumped shoulders for the bartender to finish pouring his beer. His jaw is clenched, his long tail flicking gently behind him, while he blankly stares down at the wooden surface of the bar where he has rested his elbows on.

“Rough day?” The human bartender asks with a polite smile as he puts down the Recom sized beer mug in front of Lyle.

“Like hell.” The Recombinant replies, immediately grabbing the handle of the mug to lift it to his lips and take a large gulp. The cold alcohol flows down his throat nicely, quenching his thirst and cooling down the heat in his chest. He sets it down on the surface of the bar with a satisfied exhale, his tail flicking behind him in appreciation.

“Start me a tab.” He then murmurs, his voice low and raspy, as the bartender moves to the screen of his tab system to do as instructed.

Lyle lets his eyelids close, his large hand sliding over to the beer mug again. His long fingers grip the cold handle, bringing it up as this time he takes a normal sip, just trying to enjoy his drink and the few moments of peace he has managed to acquire. He sets the mug down gently, the glass thudding as it comes in contact with the wooden surface of the bar. The Recom keeps his eyes closed as he continues leaning on his elbows in front of him, his tail moving behind him gently. His breathing is soft, ears folded back lightly as he takes his time to try and unravel his thoughts.

It’s been about a month since the battle at The Three Brothers. Lyle hasn’t had much time to himself, to process anything that’s happened. He’s been so busy during the day, and just exhausted during the night that he hasn’t even had time to think let alone mourn his comrades. Yet some nights, after he has closed his eyes and laid beneath his sheets, he sees them… in his dreams.

First he finds himself submerged in the icy waters of the sea, where he almost lost his chance to life again. He swims desperately, trying to not let his head sink beneath the surface, but the raging waves make it hard for him to stay afloat. His arms and legs burn, the muscles beneath his blue skin begging for some relief as he continues using them mercilessly to survive. He finally reaches the shore, gasping for a breath and coughing out salty water, his hands desperately gripping the rock beneath him for support. And then he turns his head, blinking rapidly to squeeze the water away from his pupils. But as his vision clears, the sight before him makes his water filled stomach drop, his heart pounding harder in his chest. He finds Lopez and Ja there, on the shore, their uniforms drenched. They’re both laying on their backs, with an arrow deeply lodged in Lopez’s chest as his now soulless eyes stare at Lyle, mouth slightly agape. Next to him, Ja’s own eyes are closed, his head turned towards Lopez, his body unharmed. He looks calm, like he’s in deep slumber but his chest isn’t moving, and he isn’t showing any signs of life. Lyle flinches, his eyes staring into Lopez’s, his breathing getting more and more rapid. And for a moment everything around him stops.

Other times he’s still on the ship. He quickly replaces the clip of his Recom M69-AR, lodging a new one into the magazine as he takes position to start shooting again. He hides behind a pile of discarded tulkun hunting machinery, trying to listen through the chaos of the ship burning and turning over. And then he hears something. He clutches his long gun, droplets of sweat mix with the sea water on his skin, as he takes sharp inhales. His chest heaves, his ears ring, but he must push forward, he must survive. Immediately he jumps into action, pointing his firearm at the source of the sound.

His blood then runs cold.

A spear is skewered right through Prager’s chest, the Recom laying on his side with the head of the weapon having come out of his back, crimson blood pooling beneath him. Zdinarsk’s lifeless body lays just a few feet away from him, fingers still clutching her long gun, with one arrow lodged deeply in her left side. An open wound is visible through her right eye, past her eye socket and into her brain, as it gushes out blood from the second arrow having been yanked off after fatally hitting her. Her other eye is open, her mouth slightly agape, as she stares blankly into the void while the surface of the pooling crimson beneath her head reflects the scorching flames around them. Lyle’s own eyes burn, a thin coat of wetness forming on his waterlines. He wants to rush over to the both of them, try to do something, anything. But he can’t. He’s frozen in place. He can’t move. He tries to turn and call out to Mansk, but he’s nowhere to be seen, no sounds coming from his side of the moon-pool either, only silence. Lyle then presses his throat comm, desperately trying to connect to Miles but the line goes dead, no reply from his Colonel. The Recom then lowers his hand slowly, his fingers sliding over the long gun in his other hand, clutching the cold metal. He’s all alone now.

Lyle takes another sip from his beer, trying to drink the memory of the nightmares away as he swallows thickly. He places the mug down, his jaw settling tight as he lowers his head again.

He hadn’t actually seen them in the ship. He was too focused on fighting and they each were spread through the moon-pool. Their bodies were only recovered about two days later, a miracle they were even found really. Wainfleet and Quaritch were called in later to pay their tributes one last time before they took their bodies away. That’s when he saw them, in that sterile medical room, the scent of antiseptic filling his nose and the white lights above making everything look so unnatural. It wasn’t his first time in that room. He had been there before, after their first altercation with Sully and his bitch, where Fike, Walker, Zhang, Warren and Brown had lost their lives. He had been there with what was left of his team, the same team who now found themselves in the same room, but on the opposite side.

The doctors had pulled back the white sheets covering them one by one, just enough for the two still living Recoms to be able to see their faces. They all looked so peaceful, so calm, like they were just sleeping soundly, with Zdinarsk’s right eye sewed shut and patched up as she rested, her other eye closed peacefully. But their faces were unnaturally pale, and for a moment Lyle had become nauseous as his pupils took in the grimy blue their skin had turned. He had immediately moved his eyes to Miles, who on the other hand had no expression on his face. He was just staring blankly at them with his jaw firm, his sharp eyes moving over each one separately, while the pathologists described to them their causes of death after having performed the needed autopsies. Then the two remaining Recombinants had paid their tributes and left without another word, turning their backs to the corpses of their comrades, never to see them again. After that, it was never brought up between Lyle and Miles. Not that they even see each other often anymore, especially last week during a particular couple of days. Miles had locked himself in his room every night for three nights, doing God knows what, while Lyle would catch the scent of something on him as he passed through the hall to get to the shower. He’s not quite sure what it was, he just knows that it smelled good… a bit too good in fact, as it was mixed with Miles’ natural scent…

Lyle swallows down thickly the last of the alcohol, setting down the now empty beer mug, as he motions for the bartender to come over again.

“Make me a Black Russian. And double the vodka.” He grumbles, his voice low. The bartender opens his mouth to say something about not being allowed to serve highly alcoholic drinks to soldiers on duty, a rule the Recom knows too well, but Lyle shoots him a glare and he immediately flinches, moving to comply. Despite their usually friendly behavior, Recombinants are still absolutely terrifying to humans, and the poor guy behind the counter doesn’t seem to want to test the large Na’vi’s patience, especially not today.

As the new drink gets put in front of him, Lyle immediately takes it, bringing it up to his lips. The cold coffee liquor mixed with double the usual vodka burns his tongue and his throat so nicely as he swallows it down, his brows furrowing lightly in satisfaction before the glass gets set back on the table. The Recom soldier then takes a deep breath, his brain returning to sifting through the thoughts in his head.

It’s not always nightmares. Sometimes he’s just hanging out with them, having a calm conversation as they finish some sort of task at hand. He sees them as they run through the lushness of Pandora, playfully trying to push each other off vines and branches, his mind probably recalling their training with Spider in the rainforest, bringing those memories into his dreams. He joins them as they all fly through the colorful skies on their banshees, yelling and laughing like kids as they try to do tricks midair, while Quaritch who always rides in front of the group snaps back at them to stop behaving like reckless idiots.

Lyle swallows another gulp of the strong drink, his large hand tense as he settles the glass down gently. He doesn’t know why, but since that day at The Three Brothers, he has felt the constant need to want to talk to Miles. Whether he wants to admit it or not, this whole ordeal is slowly eating at him from the inside, and Miles’ silence on it is not making things any better. They haven’t shared more than a few sentences since the day of the meeting, not even after having seen their teammates’ lifeless bodies. Lyle usually comes home earlier than the Colonel. He sits in the shared living room and just stares at the ceiling, the same thoughts roaming his head over and over again until he falls asleep on the couch. He then gets woken up a few hours later from the sound of Miles returning from training, or from being locked in his own office all afternoon. They exchange a few words, a bit of bland chatter, before Quaritch heads to shower, and immediately after; falls asleep exhausted on his own bed with the towel still wrapped around his trim waist, snoring throughout the night. Lyle is then left to drink himself to sleep to try and silence out the thoughts in his head, sipping from a stash of whiskey bottles he paid quite a coin to get, that he keeps hidden in his room.

And it’s the same thing, over and over again, for an entire month now, as nothing has changed. Lyle doesn’t know why he’s feeling like this. These weird emotions are foreign and highly unusual for him. He never dwells on the deaths of the people around him, he’s a Marine after all, his skin is thick and tough. But for some reason this time it seems to have left a bigger impact on him than he would’ve liked, much bigger. Something is bothering him from the inside, and he can’t even identify what it is exactly. He just knows there’s an emptiness in his chest; he’s feeling lost, stranded… alone.

“Hi, can I have a tall glass of sweet tea please, iced?”

“Of course Toddy.”

Lyle’s ears perk up at the feminine voice a few seats away from him on the bar. It catches him off guard for a moment, because he hadn’t noticed or heard anyone come near. As the bartender moves over to prepare the requested drink, the Recom lifts his lowered head, turning it to curiously take a look at the owner of the voice.

His jaw drops to the floor. About two seats away from him is the most drop dead gorgeous Na’vi woman he has ever seen in his entire fucking life, sitting with one of her elbows leaning leisurely on top of the wooden surface of the bar as she waits for her drink. Lyle’s breath gets stuck right in his throat, his tail starting to flick rapidly in fast strokes behind him as he stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. Her black hair looks silky soft and smooth, tied back into a low ponytail that includes the long braid of her neural whip. A small hairpiece, which has hand crafted beads and a bunch of long feathers, sits on the right part of her head, above her long right ear. Her face is absolutely gorgeous; with elegant soft arched eyebrows, long lashes, plump pink lips, beautiful doe eyes and a feline nose in a shade of soft pink that Lyle has never seen in a Na’vi before. Holy fuck, he’s come across plenty of beautiful women before in his life, but this girl takes the entire cake and more.

He immediately darts his eyes down to check her out. Her body has the usual appearance of a Na’vi woman, very thin, toned and elegant. The top she is wearing is dark blue with a thick dodger blue stripe on both sides that forms half a circle, with black utility straps which have been sewed on to the rest of the fabric, the entire piece hugging her upper body so well, leaving the perfect opening for her collarbones and cleavage. The lieutenant’s mouth waters as his amber eyes follow a silver gothic cross necklace, from the base of her thin neck where she has a black choker on with a tiny viperwolf charm, to right above her cleavage. He swallows thickly, then lets his eyes travel further down, looking past the black modular shooters belt where she has strapped multiple pouches and a gun holster to, to stare at her long, toned legs. Fuck, she’s got a nice ass. Those black pants are doing wonders for her-

“Here you go, Toddy. Would you like me to start you a tab?” The bartender asks as he sets down the tall glass full of sweet iced tea in front of her. She gives him a gorgeous smile, her five elegant fingers wrapping around the item.

“No, that’s not necessary. How much do I owe you, Clint?” She replies as she takes out her personal datapad from her belt. The guy behind the counter takes a look at the receipt.

“Ah, that would be-“

“I got it.”

Those words left Lyle faster than he could think about them, his amber eyes darting to the bartender.

“Put it on my tab.”

The guy turns to look at him for a moment but then complies, putting the order in the requested tab in the system, before giving them both a smile and moving away to continue what he was doing before. The girl then puts her datapad back into one of the pouches of her belt, her gorgeous eyes moving over Lyle’s face.

“Thank you.” She says with a beautiful smile, and Lyle nearly breaks his tail by subconsciously slamming it down on the bar stool he’s sitting on. He clears his throat, ignoring the pain in the appendage behind him and swallowing down thickly.

“You’re welcome.” He replies with a charming smile of his own, before turning to his own drink in front of him. He makes short work of it as he lifts the glass, swallowing what’s left of it down with a single gulp, and sets it in front of him again. The woman also turns to her drink, taking a small, relaxed sip. Her brows furrow in satisfaction as the incredibly sweet drink fills her tastebuds, her own tail flicking behind her slowly in approval. Lyle watches her through the corner of his eye as she swallows, his amber eyes running over her pink plump lips, now wet from the drink. He gulps thickly, his Adam’s apple moving as he forces down the saliva that seems to have rushed again in his mouth.

“I didn’t know they made ladies as pretty as you ‘round here.” He says with a smile, turning his head to look over at her directly. The girl chuckles sweetly in response, the sound immediately prickling goosebumps on Lyle’s striped, blue skin, as her ears fold back shyly.

“Yeah well… the scientists try their best with the Avatars.” She replies, bringing the glass to her plump lips again to take a sip. Lyle chuckles at her words, his head tilting as he looks at her.

“What’s your name, buttercup?”

The girl puts the glass down gently, before also turning her head to look at him directly, her beautiful doe eyes staring into his.

“Williams. Toddy Williams.”

Lyle's pupils glint with interest as Toddy introduces herself to him, her voice soft and pleasant in his cropped ears. So she’s an Avatar. He can’t help but feel his tail involuntarily flick at the sound of her name. He takes a moment to bring the mask of his Recom Breather up, sipping some carbon dioxide.

“Toddy." He repeats slowly, lowering the mask from his face, his voice raspy as he tests the feel of her name on his tongue. It suits her well, he decides, warm and friendly, just like the woman sitting beside him.

"That's a pretty name, buttercup." He says, his lips curving into a charming smile. “What department are you a part of?”

Toddy takes a nice sip of her sweet tea before answering.

“Science department, Scouts division.” She replies, her tail flicking slowly behind her as she tilts her head. “What about you? I think I’ve seen you around actually, with Colonel Quaritch?”

Lyle chuckles, his ears perking up at the mention of Quaritch. Of course she's seen him with the Colonel, almost everyone in Bridgehead knows who he is.

“Yeah, you've got it. I'm SecOps, one of the Colonel's men."

He leans back slightly, motioning for the bartender to come over and make him another drink. He feels his tail thump on the stool once, his eyes turning back to her pretty face.

“My name’s Lyle. Lyle Wainfleet.”

Toddy smiles back, her own long tail flicking once behind her as she brings her CO2 breathing mask up to take a sip.

“Lyle…” She repeats, the way his name rolls off her tongue making Lyle’s tail shiver.

“So you’re one of General L/N’s men then?” She adds, her ears perking up in interest as she turns her pretty saffron eyes to look at him.

Lyle’s own ears fold back at the mention of the Major General, and he clears his throat, his pupils darting to the bartender who sets a glass of whiskey on the rocks in front of him.

“Ahah… yeah technically. I mean, I have never worked directly under her but, she is one of my commanders.” He replies, lifting the cold glass of whiskey to take a sip from it, while he misses how Toddy’s enthusiasm seems to fade at his answer. “So, Scouts division, huh? What’s that?”

Toddy slowly leans back, giving herself room to place one leg over the other, and Lyle can’t help but watch transfixed as her toned thighs press against each other.

“We’re environment experts who go out into the wild to gather requested samples for research or medicine.” The Avatar replies, bringing her glass of sweet tea up to her lips to take a nice sip, her throat bobbing as she swallows down the cold drink.

Lyle's eyes rake over her form, his gaze lingering a little too long on the way her throat moves as she swallows. He's sure she has noticed the way his eyes roam by now, but he doesn't really care. She's absolutely gorgeous, and he can't help but openly admire her.

"So you spend a lot of time out there in the bush, huh?" He asks as he lifts the whiskey glass to his lips, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "You ain’t afraid of running into any trouble? A pretty lady like you, all alone in the forest?"

Toddy shrugs, setting her own glass down on the surface of the bar counter as she leans forward more comfortably.

“Not really. It’s my job to roam around the forest, I know what I’m doing. As long as I keep a low profile and follow Eywa’s order of life, there’s really not much danger for me out there.”

Lyle’s ears immediately fold back at that. He nods once, cringing internally as she mentions the “Eywa” entity that every delusional native believes so hard in. He swallows down another sip from his drink, trying to ignore how her acknowledgment of the “deity” as if it was a real thing just turned him off immensely. Sometimes he forgets how delusional science chicks are. But it’s been too long, and he needs a piece of that ass, so just a small quirk be damned. He clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat.

"Yeah, Eywa, whatever." He says, his voice a bit dismissive. "But still, there's a lot of nasty creatures out there. And those natives ain't exactly friendly either."

He takes a larger swig of his drink, his eyes moving down to wander once again over her pressed thighs. Toddy’s own pupils move over the ice cubes that peak over the surface of her sweet drink, not paying the same attention as before to the man beside her.

“The natives aren’t friendly because we’ve dug up their dead to run experiments on them, obliterated their homes, slaughtered their animals, created Avatars which are frighteningly uncanny to them, blown them up, tortured them, burned their forests, and an ongoing list of other crimes against them which I’m sure would be insanely illegal back on Earth. So, I wouldn’t be friendly to us either.” The Avatar replies, the tone in her voice calm despite her sharp words.

Lyle's tail flicks irritably behind him at Toddy’s answer, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. He's heard this spiel from the scientists and the bleeding heart hippies many times before, and every time it makes him roll his eyes to the back of his fucking skull. He takes another swig of his drink to resist the urge to bite back at her, his brows now furrowed lightly in dissatisfaction.

"You really believe all that bullshit, huh?" He growls lowly as he sets his drink down. "You think the Na’vi are all innocent little angels, and it's all our fault? Well, we’ve tried, sweetheart. We’ve tried making peace with them a million times before. We gave them medicine, equipment, technology, we built them schools, taught them English, all that shit. And they repaid us by lighting up our machines, with people still inside. The RDA is here to develop this planet, to make it habitable and useful for humans. That's our mission. And if some monkeys get in the way, well, that's just collateral damage."

At his last sentence, Toddy’s head snaps over at him, her pretty eyes now narrowed dangerously as she pins him down with an angry stare.

“Collateral damage?! Really?!” She exclaims, her grip tightening around the tall glass of sweet tea in her hand. “Ya think that the lives of innocent people who you and yer fellow brute head folks have fucked over fer decades are just collateral damage?”

Lyle scoffs in annoyance at her outburst, also taken aback by the sudden southern accent she just spewed as his ears fold back in irritation. The grip he has on the whiskey glass also tightens dangerously, his tail lashing angrily behind him. He's never been one to shy away from confrontation, and he's not about to back down now.

“Innocent people? They’re savages, buttercup." He scoffs, leaning towards her slightly as he speaks. “We’re bringing them civilization, order. We're doing more for them than their primitive beliefs ever could. And if they can't handle it, well, that's not our problem."

Toddy’s eyes narrow tenfold, her own long tail now lashing behind her rapidly. She leans back slightly in her seat, taking a moment to calm herself down by bringing her carbon dioxide mask up to take a sip.

“Ya really haven’t comprehended the circumstances of yer own situation, have ya?” She replies as she lowers the mask, her tone still irritated but much calmer than before. “Tell me, do ya really believe that the RDA gives a single fuck about’cha and yer kind, Lyle?”

Lyle is half taken aback by that question, and half irritated beyond measure. Why must this happen to him right now? He just wanted to get laid once after such a long time, goddamnit. Why does she have to be so attractive but so stubborn and opinionated at the same time? He glares at her as his ears flatten against his skull, his brows furrowing, the idea that the RDA doesn't care about him and the other Recom soldiers hitting a bit too close to home for comfort.

"What kind of dumb ass question is that?" He replies, his voice rising slightly in disbelief. "Of course they do. They went through the effort and expense of making us Recombinants. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the RDA. They gave me life, a purpose. They literally brought me back from the dead. Yeah, we do part of their dirty work, but they give us everything we need; food, shelter, clothes, technology, medicine, equipment, a future. I don’t know what the hell you’re implying but I’m not gonna sit here and listen to any anti-corporate, hippie bullshit you have to say.”

Something dies in Toddy’s eyes at his response. She shakes her head slowly in disappointment, her stomach churning in disgust at his answer as she grabs her drink to take a final, angry gulp. The Avatar then sets the now empty glass down with a rough thud, the ice inside clinging within the object.

“They’re probably gonna put a bullet right between your eyebrows as soon as the greater mission is accomplished.” She replies as her beautiful amber eyes stare down at the melting ice with a hint of foreboding, her voice low and accent gone again, her tone filled with dismay. “They’re creating a future for humans, not for you. Even if they do leave you alive, the world they will create will be unlivable for the Na’vi, including your kind. You and the rest of the Recombinants are just expensive weapons to them, nothing more. But you’re all either too fucking dumb or blind to see that.”

With that, the Avatar woman hops off the bar stool she was sitting on, her black Tactical Side Zip boots thudding on the polished wooden floor of the place as she begins walking away, her tail flicking behind her slowly. Lyle watches her, his heart suddenly pounding, his stomach churning uncomfortably with a feeling that he can’t identify.

“And yet, you wear an RDA badge.” He speaks out at her with a hint of irritation, his amber eyes narrowed and glued on the back of her head.

Toddy stops on her tracks at that. She remains still for a few moments, her tail flicking behind her rapidly. But she doesn’t turn, doesn’t say anything else. She then just continues forward, until she’s out of the bar and her form is no longer in Lyle’s field of vision, leaving him alone once again.

“Damnit.” The Recom grunts as he turns back around towards the counter, grabbing his drink angrily and downing what’s left of it with a single gulp. He slams the glass down on the counter, almost breaking it, before calling the bartender over to pay the tab. His ears stay pinned back as he pulls out his datapad, tapping it against the payment device, holding it there until the transaction is complete.

Every word she said, he wants to dismiss as bullshit. As tree-hugging hippie crap, as lies. But there's something in her words that gnaws at him, a sense of unease, of doubt that he hasn't felt in a long time. It makes his stomach churn, his heart pounding in his chest uncomfortably; the same feeling he’s been having for a month since his entire team were killed bubbling again in the pit of his core. And despite the anger and frustration he feels, there's a small part of him that can’t understand why her words have gotten under his skin so easily, why her opinion seems to matter more than he wants to admit.

He hops off his seat, giving the bartender one last nod of acknowledgment, before turning around and walking away. His heavy steps thud on the wooden floor as he leaves, cropped ears relaxing while his long tail starts flicking slowly behind him. Fuck this shit, he thinks as he takes an aggressive sip of carbon dioxide from his Recom Breather. There’s no time for such crap, he needs to go back to work before Álvarez is on his ass again.

“Come in.”

The massive doors of the conference room slide open, letting Miles’ large form pass through. He steps inside, sharp amber eyes scanning the place intently to find the woman he came here for.

The main conference room of the Admin Zone is the largest one out of all in Bridgehead, placed on the highest floor of the tallest building. It’s reserved for important meetings between the top members of the chain of command; usually Ardmore, L/N, their men, corporate officials, and head shareholders. The room is massive, as it was built in consideration of the Recoms’ sizes, made out entirely of expensive Italian wooden panels, the walls adorned with royal style framed oil paintings and accent spotlights. A lush red carpet decorates the entire floor, where upon it rests a massive oak conference table with exactly twenty cushioned chairs, all enlightened brightly by a large semi flush ceiling light. Another much smaller oak table faces the room from the right side of the doors, set upon a lifted platform where seven other cushioned seats are placed, seats reserved only for the highest in authority. From the current military personnel on base, this includes only Ardmore, Y/N, and also would include the Lieutenant General who’s still on his way to the extrasolar moon. The five other seats are meant for the people who own the RDA as a whole, who are supposed to arrive only after General Ardmore has succeeded in her greater mission and has fully colonized Pandora, that’s why this table has never been used. Yet. On the opposite wall on the other side of the room, a large panel touch screen is placed, the surface now black as the device was turned off before Miles stepped in.

The Recom’s eyes find the woman he’s searching for, her smaller form standing in front of the wall made out of glass windows, opposite the sliding doors and facing the entire view of Bridgehead as eclipse has just fallen. He takes a few steps closer to her, letting his long legs carry him as he watches her wrapped tail flick behind her slowly, until he’s an appropriate distance away.

“General L/N.” He greets firmly, his blunt fingertips pressed against his right temple as he salutes her. Y/N turns around slowly from watching the view of Bridgehead, her elbows bent as she holds with both hands a crystal glass filled with ice and a drink of some sorts. Her beautiful eyes land on him, dark pupils focusing on the features of his handsome face and for a moment, something twists in the pit of Miles’ stomach. He swallows thickly.

“At ease.” She says calmly, motioning with her head towards him for him to relax. “You wanted to see me, Colonel?”

Miles nods, lowering his muscular arm, as he grabs the mask of his Recom Breather and brings it up to his face. He had indeed asked to see her. She has just finished an important meeting with the heads of the other departments, and Quaritch was waiting outside for her agenda to open up until now. He lowers the mask after having taken a filling sip of CO2, and clears his throat before addressing her.

“Did you receive my reflection report, ma’am?” He asks, his voice low and raspy as usual as his amber eyes search her beautiful face for an answer. Y/N lowers her own pupils to stare blankly at the carpeted floor, still not facing him properly as the right half of her body remains facing the windows.

“I did.” She replies, her tail flicking once behind her, as her ears tilt back slightly. Miles nods, waiting for her to continue. But after some moments of silence he raises his brows, looking at her expectingly.

“Well… did ya read it?”

The Major General nods slowly in response, her pupils trailing over one of the oil paintings in the room. Now that Miles notices, she looks tired… her pretty eyes half lidded as they roam anywhere but on him.

“I did. You didn’t do a great job, but for what you wrote it wasn’t half bad.” Y/N replies, taking a slow sip of her drink, stopping for a few seconds to let it flow down her throat before she parts her lips to speak again.

“I want you to remake it.”

As soon as that sentence leaves her mouth, Miles’ brows furrow deeply, his eyes immediately darting to pin on her form, before he takes a slow, calculated step forward.

“Excuse me?” He asks, lowering his head to stare at her fully, his deep voice firm, yet filled with disbelief, as if he can’t comprehend what she just said. But Y/N doesn’t falter.

“I know you’re not hard of hearing. Remake it. You did good on what you wrote, but you still missed a lot. I can name you at least seven other rules that you broke that you haven’t included in your report.” She replies, sparing him one single glance as she speaks, before turning her head towards the windows again.

Miles’ jaw clenches tightly, his sharp amber eyes now glaring daggers at her. This shit again?! No. It happened once, he tolerated it. This time, he won’t.

“Are you serious?" He speaks up, frustration clear in his voice. "Why the hell are you being like this? I spent weeks on it, writing every goddamn detail in that report like you asked me to, and now you're tellin’ me it's still not good enough?" He takes a step closer to her, his large frame tensing as his eyes narrow in irritation, the frustration from what he has endured for almost five weeks now slowly starting to boil over. "Is it some sort of sick game yer playing? Ya wanna see how much you can push me before I snap? Do you enjoy this? Makin’ me run around like a damn lapdog, undergoing training with a psychotic Brit, and write and rewrite the same thing over and over again for your amusement?"

Y/N now turns her head towards him, her features falling serious, beautiful amber eyes pinning up on him through long black lashes.

“Well, what did you think? That you could just mess up however you wanted and then get by with just a slap on the wrist? Is that what you think this is? That you can do whatever the hell you want without any consequences just because you hold the rank of Colonel, and you carry the identity and experience of someone who called the shots fourteen years ago? Well, that’s not happening. Not as long as you’re under my command. You fucked up. Badly. Because of you we lost countless lives. Lives of our soldiers. Our people. Deaths that could’ve been prevented easily. And much more. Not only that, but you went right ahead and started a war with the sea clans. Someone amongst my ranks who is supposed to be my right hand, and who is the Colonel of the organization saving humanity, should know what mistakes he did and how he should’ve acted, so that they don’t repeat. I didn’t give you the task of that report for nothing. And you didn’t do it well. How can I trust you to lead my soldiers when you can’t even identify your own errors? So if I tell you to remake that report because it’s not up to my liking, then that’s what the fuck you’re gonna do. Period point blank.”

Quaritch takes one step closer at her response, his head lowering down to focus his sharp eyesight on her shorter form, cropped ears folded back against his head. His broad shoulders are now tense, so are his muscular arms.

“Do you think this is a game, General? You think I enjoy wasting my time on this bullshit?" He finally snaps, his voice low and cold. "Just because you hold a higher rank doesn't mean you can treat me like I'm your goddamn puppet." He steps even closer, his chest now nearly touching the edge of her left shoulder as he glares down at her. “I’ve been out there, fighting for this company, for humanity, and you’re in here askin’ me to write a fucking novel on why I did what I had to do. I've fought my way through hell and back. I've bled, and sweated, and worked my ass off for the RDA, way before you were even handed that shiny new title. I’m good at my job, you damn well know that. And ya talk to me as if I'm some rookie who just stepped foot in this place yesterday. While you're in here, playin’ General with rules and regulations.” His voice then lowers in irritation, but remains firm. “You know, showing some respect wouldn’t hurt. I’m only one goddamn rank below you.”

Y/N takes a slow sip from the crystal glass in her hand, now unbothered yet again, taking her time to swallow down leisurely before replying.

“You’ll have my respect when you’ve earned it. And at the pace you’re going, that day is getting further and further away.” She replies, not even sparing him a glance as she turns to continue watching the night view of Bridgehead. “Besides even if I did, where would it even go? Straight into the never ending pit in your heart, filled with fragile ego?”

Quaritch’s lips press into a thin line at her response. His eyes glare daggers at the side of Y/N’s beautiful face, as she sips from the crystal glass in her hand. Swallowing down, her soft lips purse momentarily as the cold liquid flows down her throat, and she continues.

“You’re lucky you still have your life, let alone your rank after all the shit you’ve pulled right in front of my face for months.”

She finally turns her head towards him again, her saffron eyes focusing firmly into his own, her stare pricking surprisingly pleasant goosebumps upon Miles’ skin.

“Keep fucking up and that too will be taken away from you.”

Quaritch clenches his jaw tightly, a cold wave flowing down his veins, breathing now intensifying with the anger that is starting to flare up in him.

“Is that a threat, General?”

“It’s a promise.“

Miles’ teeth grit as he listens to her speak in that calm, infuriating tone yet again. His large fists clench at his sides, thick veins bulging in slowly piling up anger. He sneers down at her, his cropped ears folding back.

“That so? Well let me tell you the reality of that, General. You can’t take my rank or my life away from me even if you wanted to. You’re second in command, with Ardmore’s boot still up yer ass you cannot make a decision like that even if your life depended on it, and you know that. But if by some miracle you did; I am a pillar of this organization, I have more experience and expertise in this goddamn death trap of a moon than you or any of your ass-kissing men have combined. I've been doing this longer than you've been fuckin’ alive, and I know what I'm doin’. I am your most valuable soldier, deny it as much as ya want, and “getting rid” of me will do nothing but shove your head ten feet deep into the cold, wet mud of Pandora, General. So go ahead, “get rid” of me. Let’s see how well that works out for ya.”

An amused chuckle comes from the base of Y/N’s throat at his words, her head tilting slightly. Her ears raise up and her tail swishes behind her, slowly, as if to add to his irritation. She turns around, walking towards the conference table, to place the cold crystal glass upon its polished wooden surface, the object chiming with a clack as it makes contact. She then slowly, makes her way back, steps long and calm as she returns, this time facing him. Miles’ eyes follow her movements, his breathing heavier as she steps in front of him, raising her head to look up at his handsome face. She then speaks, gloved hands clasped behind her back, resting above the very base of her long, wrapped tail.

“You haven’t grasped the gravity of the situation you’re in, have you?” Y/N starts, her smooth voice calm, yet ice cold. “I don’t know where you constantly find the audacity, but let me check your fragile fucking ego for a moment, Colonel. You are certainly not my most valuable soldier. That would be my Captain; John Keller, who is currently trying to fix the sloppy mess of dead bodies and horrid damage you did to the sourcing of our most profitable and precious material, while you were trying to assassinate a single target that’s twice your age; lives with savages and that still beat you into a pulp. Adding on to that; while you were spending months running around the forest, barefoot, riding wild animals, learning Na’vi and bonding with nature like you’re fucking Pocahontas, I was breaking my back in the front lines, wiping out entire clans with natives’ arrows sticking up my ass. That earned me more respect from Ardmore alone than you’ve ever had in your entire fucking life from all of your troops combined. Yeah, that’s right, I’ve been out there too. But how would you know that when you haven’t even stepped foot properly on base for months? And guess what; not only can I take away your rank and even your life, but I can skin you alive, torture you to death and wipe your entire existence from this Universe, to the point that God himself will have to crawl into the deepest, darkest hellholes of Pandora’s asscrack to find the endless ditch of insecurity that is your soul. And on top of that, not only would I not be affected in the slightest, but Ardmore would fucking praise me for it. So let me rephrase in case your slow, infant brain still hasn’t grasped it yet; you are not a valuable soldier, you are a failed experiment. You had your chance to prove that you’re someone, that you’re the commander that our people deserve; and you failed, miserably. Now you’re gonna spend the rest of this war bending over while I shove my fist up your ass; and you’re gonna enjoy it.”

Quaritch’s lips press tightly into that thin line again, as his sharp eyes widen to glare daggers at the woman in front of him. The veins in his neck pop out with the sheer amount of force that he is using to clench his jaw and ball up his fists at his sides, his frustration mounting tenfold, muscles shaking. For a moment, he's speechless, completely taken back by the sheer audaciousness, the sheer disrespect in her words, her tone. Nobody, NOBODY has ever had the balls to speak to him like that in his entire fucking life. And coming from a woman no less; from this stuck-up, arrogant, condescending bitch of a woman, it's all the more infuriating. Who the fuck does this whore think she is?!

“Is that right?” He more states than asks, his voice filled with pure venom as he nods his head once towards her, as if to give her one last chance to take whatever the fuck she said back. But she doesn’t budge. Not even one bit.

“You bet your striped, blue ass.”

Quaritch’s stare upon her turns deadly, maintaining the icy, poisonous glare between them for a few more seconds, before his right foot then slides backwards, and slowly he puts a bit of distance between the two of them. His fists remain balled up tightly, large muscular arms and broad shoulders tense, feeling the adrenaline course through his flared veins; the urge to retaliate with a fiery temperament threatening to overtake his judgement. His whole frame seems taunt, shaking lightly, his muscles ready to snap like rubber stretched too tight. It takes all of his physical and mental strength to restrain himself from pouncing on her and slamming her bitch ass against the large glass windows that she finds so fucking interesting to look at. But Miles knows better. Y/N’s own expression dares him to challenge her with set eyes and a firm jaw, prodding him to fuck around and find out if he dares and Quaritch takes the deepest breath of his life to ground himself before he does something that he will later on immensely regret. He squeezes his eyes shut briefly, turning his entire body away from her for a few seconds, and taking his time to bring his Recom Breather mask up, calming himself down. After some moments of tense silence he puts the breather down and turns towards her again, having found the mental state and energy to speak to her without committing a number of consecutive, insanely illegal actions.

"You want a long report? Fine. I'll give ya a long report. But don't you dare question my methods or my experience ever again. You want to know why I did what I did? Why I spent months in the forest, tryna live like a savage? Because it worked. Because despite the failed mission, I got one step closer to understanding our enemy, and I got most of the job done with what little was given to me, before every odd turned against us. I did my duty, and I did it well. Something you seem to have forgotten how to do, General.”

He gets close to her again, his large form towering over hers with amber eyes holding piercing venom, getting all up in her space with no care.

"You know, you're damn lucky you outrank me," He growls, his voice low and laced with disdain. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be havin’ this little discussion. Not even close. I didn't spend over three decades in the Marines to be treated like some rookie recruit by a spoiled, brat General.”

After a few seconds of poisonous eye contact, he then pulls back again, long legs dragging his body to create distance from her. Having gotten so close, her scent lingers in his nose and he can’t quite figure out why it smells familiar, but for the moment he’s too tense and irritated to pay attention to details. And if Y/N has something in her mind, she doesn’t express it. Instead she stares at him unamused, with half lidded eyes, before slowly she turns, going back to facing the large conference room windows. Quaritch watches her for a few more seconds, his long tail flicking rapidly side to side behind him in agitation. When silence fills the space, he gives her a slow nod and then a firm salute just out of procedure, before turning on his heel and starting to walk away without another word, fury still coursing through his bulging veins. His heavy footsteps echo through the dim conference room, bouncing off the pristine walls as he leaves without waiting for her dismissal. Just as the doors of the entrance slide open for his large, barely contained seething frame to pass through, Y/N’s calm yet cold voice is heard again behind him, entering the eardrums of his heated cropped ears.

“You’re in my house now. Don’t forget that again.”

He halts in his tracks, his large fists balling at his sides, and he doesn’t turn around, his broad muscular back still facing her direction. But Y/N does turn her head, her sharp yet beautiful amber eyes staring at him over the carrier plate utility strap on her shoulder as she continues speaking.

“I was nice, just this once. Next time, I won’t be.”

The doors then slide closed behind Miles.

Title explanation:

Spit and Polish - Extreme individual or collective military neatness, extreme devotion to the minutiae of traditional military procedures or ceremonies; from spit-polishing boots and dress shoes. In this case it describes exactly how Miles sees Y/N throughout the entire chapter; as this procedure freak and rule obsessed General who never considers or leaves room for things being done outside of the book.

End of chapter notes:

The song that Toddy sings in the beginning: Better Than I Used to Be by Tim McGraw

Also poor Lyle, he got cockblocked so hard. R.I.P to his chances to get sum. (︶︹︺) <\3

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ