#the sisters as a whole left a bad taste in my mouth

[elriel-fireheart]

The headache powder.

Elain gifted Azriel legit medicine on behalf of the inner circles' shenanigans.

Azriel hoarded it like the dragon he is and looked at it every night he was home. Thinking of her.

We got confirmation that he's completely down bad since that fated solstice night in ACOFAS, and they are mutually aware. Seem to share the same feelings.

Twice now Elain had bought Azriel Solstice gifts. Not once for her mate. And this time Azriel gifted her back with jewelry. (Forget how Rhys ruined the moment for a sec)

"Most males bought their wives and mates jewelry for an outrageous Solstice present." - ACOFAS

She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. - ACOSF

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong -- it was so wrong. He didn't care. - ACOSF

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue -- Azriel's cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent.

Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again. Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars.

But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. “Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.

Uh, the feeling is mutual yall.

Just how long have they harbored feelings for one another? By the time we see Azriel's POV, he's angered enough by Rhysand's interruption/opinions to let a bit of his true rage show during his discussion with Rhys.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

At what point did he start asking himself this question? And when did Elain question this herself?

I mean their interactions go back to ACOWAR.

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

Feyre questions the cauldron shortly after this scene.

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will?

And then you have all these interactions after:

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him. “I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.” . . . I faced Azriel, exposing my palms to him. “What does that mean?” Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.

Shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.

But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?”

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Bruised, hurt, and bleeding out, he did.

The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help—he needed a healer immediately.

Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. ✨️

I know Elain's heart is broken. Her engagement ruined. But I believe this is where the small seed was planted, for both of them. She's been shown what a true man/male was capable of. The "If they wanted to, they would," analogy. Azriel didn't have to risk his life for her, but he did. And he didn't let her go until she was taken from his arms.

Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

I truly think Truth-Teller is revealing the potential mate bond they have right here. Major foreshadowing. Feyre can see it with her painter's eye, but also really because she is made? But that's a conversation for another post.

And then we have:

“You mean to tell me that you weren’t bluffing when you said you didn’t track Lucien’s every movement?” Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. Too much. Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.”

And that later escalated during his next one on one with Rhysand in ACOSF.

"I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway."

And

"I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true.

Back to ACOFAS...we have the lovely potatoe scene. Where, clearly, there's mutual evidence of something going on between them. I think it's clear there's feelings for each other at this point.

Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed. But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. “I—I’ll be right back,” she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit. Azriel set the potatoes in the center of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to. One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.

Mor and Amren know something. Or sense something, atleast. More foreshadowing.

Later, Elain's reaction to Feyre repimanding her about her behavior toward lucien says plenty about how she feels.

“He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

And again in ACOSF

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get. Azriel remained in the doorway.

And we get Cassians view of her behavior towards Lucien

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

The scene that started this whole post:

Mor lifted, squinted at the name tag, and said, “Az, this one’s for you.” The shadowsinger’s brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.” Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed— “I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.

So careful to guard your face, shadowsinger. 😏 Then blows it after the joy takes over. 😆

Then he takes time to be with her. Late in the night.

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

Idk if he cares for gardening specifically, but he cares for Elain, that's for sure.

Then in ACOSF, Nesta tells us that she knows something is between them as well.

Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. “I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger.“ My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. “Why did you come if it torments you so much?"

Azriel grows more protective of Elain over all this time. The stiffening. Gaze darkening. Silent raging. He's down bad.

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.

And

“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

ANYWAY, all this to say Death and his lovely Fawn are down bad. Smitten. Twitterpated. Dare I say fated by the Mother.

The tea started in ACOWAR and has been brewing since ACOFAS. The tea will be hot in this next book, for sure.

Thanks for reading my rambling on these two. 💖 Ready when you are, Mrs. Maas.

[bulbtooth]

IM FREE

[welcometogrouchland]

Noticing that TV and film will often have a character either have had an abortion in the past that isn't showcased on screen (and just used as part of the character's ~fucked up and twisted backstory~) OR contemplate getting an abortion in the present day but not to through with it. Just once I want to see someone delete that fetus within the events of the plot and not be like. Extremely majorly punished for it and/or be in the wrong

[helenofsparta2]

Having the whole plot between Nico and Percy be resolved simply with “You’re not my type” in Blood of Olympus was such a huge disservice to both characters

They are pivotal parts to each others journey. No person in PJO influenced Nico as much as Percy did, aside from Bianca, and no person represents Percy’s guilt and the responsibility he had to shoulder more than Nico does. The writing for both characters really suffers through this lack of a real satisfying resolution.

First to talk about what Percy represents for Nico:

Percy, first of all, represents Nico’s introduction to the mythological world

He is the first demigod Nico ever came in contact with

He saved him and Bianca from the manticore (somewhat)

Nico stated in Blood of Olympus than Percy had reminded of the heroes of his mythomagic game come to life

Nico wholeheartedly believed that Bianca would be safe, if Percy was with her and created this image of the perfect hero in his mind, putting Percy on a pedestal

2.

In Nico’s mind Percy is irrevocably intertwined with Bianca and everything that happened to her

Despite Nico naively believing, that Bianca would be safe if Percy were around, he was instead the last person to ever talk to her, and present when she died

Percy informed Nico of her death (Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn’t believe nobody had told him yet. Then I realized why. They’d been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person, Titan’s curse)

Nico turned him into the scapegoat for her death, so that he could let all his grief and anger and bitterness out on him

Bianca sent Iris-messages to Percy, so that he would find and help Nico (“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Her ghost only appeared to Nico when Percy was with him

Percy is the only person Nico knows of, who also grieved for Bianca (“Bianca,” I said. My voice was thick. I’d felt guilty about her death for a long time but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she’d sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her. “I’m so sorry,” I said. Battle of the Labyrinth)

3.

Percy is the person who protected and cared for Nico more than anyone else in pjo

Tried to convince Bianca to think more deeply about her decision of joining the hunters, especially thinking of him (“Biance, this is crazy,” I said. “What about your brother? Nico can’t be a hunter.” (Titan’s curse)

Searched the woods in the dark for hours after he had disappeared (Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo.)

Didn’t tell Chiron about Nico’s parentage to protect him from the Gods. (I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—") Titan’s curse)

Decided to completely commit to the prophecy, solely so Nico didn’t have to bear that burden and go trough any more suffering(It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger," I said. "I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more." ) Titan’s curse)

Searched for Nico in the months after Titan’s Curse (Now, six months later, I hadn’t even come close to finding him. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. Battle of the labyrinth, chapter 3))

Saved his life on Geryon’s farm. (“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But, if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go, including Nico.”)

Always offered Nico a place at camp half-blood to the best of his abilities (“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”“No.”“Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the big house. They’ve got plenty of room.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Invited him to join him on his birthday (“Is that… is that blue birthday cake?”He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever been invited to one. “Come inside for cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Reminded him that he was still a child (I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statue, Battle of the Labyrinth)

Helped him to get the sword of hades back to impress his father (Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognised the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love., Sword of hades)

Acknowledged everything Nico did in The last Olympian and is one of the main reasons why Hades has a cabin at camp. ( “But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.”)

4.

Percy was Nico’s first, and after Will, his biggest love

Nico had feelings for Percy, which didn’t leave him for around 2 1/2 years, and accompanied him throughout the most challenging parts of his life. 

Feelings, which were so deep, the god of love personally acknowledged them.

Favonius even called Percy, the person Nico cares about most in House of Hades.

This was more than just a mere crush

Percy is so completely intertwined with most aspects of Nico’s character arc, in both PJO and Hoo, be it his feeling of ostracism, his relationship to Bianca or him coming to term with his own sexuality, that them not having a final interaction, makes his writing feel shallow and unfinished. Especially Nico coming to terms with his crush on Percy opens up the opportunity for a really heartwarming conversation and a moment of character growth and maturity for both of them, instead of it being wasted on one throw-away line.

And it’s the same the other way around. Nico is also a huge part of Percy’s journey.

He especially represents Percy’s biggest failure.

The first five Percy Jackson books are characterized by Percy having to take up responsibility and him being afraid of not being able to fulfill them. Be it responsibility for camp, the world, Bianca’s death, the prophecy, his friends, teh unclaimed demigods, or everything else. Most of the time, Percy was able to make sure everything turned out fine. He saved camp, he saved Olympus, he finished his quests, made the right decision for the prophecy, and he made the gods swear upon teh styx. But there’s one exception. And that is Nico.

Percy did everything in his power to make sure Nico would be spared any more hardships. He took up the burden of the prophecy, explicitly, so that Nico doesn’t have to go through any more hardships

He searched for him after Titan’s curse, kept his identity a secret and even risked himself, Annabeth, Grover and Tyson dying if it meant saving Nico

Still, Nico is one of the characters, if not the character, who has suffered the most in PJO and Hoo, even partly because of Percy (though, of course, Nico having a crush on him was not Percy’s fault at all)

He lived alone at 11 years old on the streets and in the labyrinth, while getting manipulated by an ancient evil spirit

He was isolated and ostracized at camp half-blood

He experienced the horrors of Tartarus completely on his own

He got captured by the giants and slowly suffocated to death in a small jar

He had to deal with internalized homophobia and his complicated feelings regarding Percy

He has been a vital part of two wars at only 15 years old

Had to admit his crush involuntarily in front of Jason, etc.  

One of the things Percy battles with in Heroes of Olympus is this overwhelming sense of guilt. He blames himself for almost everything that went wrong over the last few years. Be it for Iapetus, Calypso, or especially Nico. Having Percy acknowledge this complicated relationship he has with him during House of Hades, but not allowing the two of them to talk it out is genuinely baffling to me, and one of the (albeit many) reasons why I really don’t like most of Percy’s writing during Heroes of Olympus, despite the fact that he is my favourite character by far. This could have led to a moment of character growth, where Nico helps Percy to aknowledge that he feels guilty for things he had little to no control over, while Nico himself realizes how important he actually is to Percy.

They are also so similar in terms of who they are and what they’ve been through, that even if you ignore their history with each other, it seems insane, that they didn’t interact in any meaningful way:  

Both were ostracized at camp half-blood because of their parentage, and so far are the only two half-bloods we know of with that experience

They are (together with Hazel) the most powerful demigods in the Riordan verse, and have feats which far surpass anyone else’s

Both are in some way afraid of their powers

Both went through Tartarus

Both have relatively similar relationships to their godly parents

Both have gone through immense trauma and loss

And if you read heroes of Olympus, it actually very much seems to build towards a final resolution of their relationship

Percy and Nico were, aside from Frank, the two people closest to Hazel; both saw her as a little sister, and Hazel treated them both like her brothers

Nico was the first person Percy met from his old life

Percy was the one, who received the visions of Nico being captured

From everyone present, Percy trusted Nico to lead the others to Greece in his moment of greatest desperation

They both had introspections about the other in house of Hades, Nico having to deal with his crush and Percy with his guilt in Tartarus

But, in the end, after they met again, nothing happened. The only scene we really got was the “You’re not my type” line and Percy being surprised by it for a couple seconds. That’s it.

We saw no meaningful conversation between the two of them, no acknowledgement of what they’ve been through together, no lasting feelings. Nothing.

In regards to their relationship, Percy acknowledging everything that Nico has been through led to nothing. Nico acknowledging his feelings for Percy and finally letting go of this pedestal he had placed him on led to nothing. You could argue that their entire relationship, which has been built up since Titan’s curse led to nothing. And considering that they are so important characters for each of their character arcs, their characterization very much suffers from this writing decision.

The two of them, together with Hazel, are my three favourite Riordan verse characters by a long shot, but some very important aspects of both of their characters fall so flat to me through this lack of a satisfying resolution.

 Both of them deserved so much better.  

They are the friendship with the most missed potential in the entirety of the Riordan verse and probably the most fleshed out and nuanced relationship Rick ever wrote.

R.I.P.  Nico di Angelo, and Percy Jackson, you will always be brothers in my mind.

[ohsc]

Hi! Welcome to the tumblr spn fandom! I wanted to make a request for a sibling!reader, who's about teenager age, meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and finding out that she is their little sibling?

(P.s. love your bots, and I'll be looking forward to your fics on ao3!)

hey lovely, tysm!! i loved the req, hope you’re having a good day <3

(platonic) dean & sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, sfw — requests are open

Sam felt so bad he felt physically sick.

Dean, stood by his side, seemed more angry than worried. He was fuming as they both stood on the front porch, waiting for the door to swing open after he knocked a little too harshly.

“It’s messed up,” Dean grit his teeth, glaring eyes switching between Sam and the door. “How many other kids does he have knocking about, huh?”

It was messed up. Majorly.

When they had found out about Adam, that was bad enough. That their father had a whole other son that he had never told them about, that he secretly went and took to baseball games and bought Christmas presents for. And though it left a sour taste in Sam’s mouth to think of how different John had treated their brother, he was at least happy that he’d had a normal childhood, that he hadn’t been roped into their father’s life, his quest for revenge. But then Adam had ended up in the cage, and it still made Sam feel fucking awful.

But this? This made Sam feel so horrible.

Finding out that they had a sixteen year old sister was honestly like a smack in the face. It meant that she was just a toddler when John had died, and though Sam was glad that she had the chance to live a normal life, it meant she’d never even had the chance to meet her father.

Or her brothers.

Sam had pictured the conversation in his head over and over again on the drive to her house, but he still didn’t know what to say. How was you supposed to tell somebody out of the blue that they had two brothers? How could you drop that onto somebody?

The door handle rattled, and Sam looked up to watch as it was pulled open a few inches, still locked with the chain from the inside, but it was enough space to see the young girl stood there. She was so young that it left a horrible feeling in Sam’s chest for what they had to tell her, what they were there for.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, gentle, so far from what they had expected of John’s daughter. “Can I help you?”

“Hey there,” Dean took the lead, offering a smile through his anger that still burned at the revelation they were facing. “Could you open the door up so we can talk, kid?”

She frowned, “You’re strangers.”

At least she was cautious, that made Sam relieved. It seemed like Dean agreed, as he hesitated before nodded. “Right, yeah we are, good call,” he muttered. “Look, kid-”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Sam took the lead as soon as he heard the agitation seeping through Dean’s tone, a hand clasping onto his older brother’s shoulder, as if to say I’ve got this. “You’re Y/N, right?” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to spook the poor girl who already seemed pretty weary.

Her frown only deepened. “How do you know my name?”

Sam offered a small smile, trying to be delicate about it as he asked, “Has your mother ever mentioned somebody called John Winchester?”

The recognition in her eyes was visible almost immediately, the way her expression shifted to accommodate the thought that ran through her mind. She hesitated, and only when Sam had murmured a few soft words of encouragement did she say, “She said John Winchester is my father,” she eyed up both Sam and Dean, her eyebrows scrunched up slightly as she asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We just wanted to talk, um-”

“We’re John Winchester’s sons.” Dean cut in, and the bluntness of the statement made Sam shoot him a nasty glare. Given what had happened the last time they found out they had another sibling — it was fucked up that this wasn’t even the first time it had happened — Sam wanted to do it right. Not practically shove the information down the girl’s throat.

She blinked, took in an audible breath as she glanced between the brothers, before the door shut.

“Nice, Dean,” Sam immediately snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“You were taking too long-”

The lock rattled and then the door was pulled open fully, and the brothers were silenced as they both turned to look at the girl, who seemed just shocked as she stood there in the doorway, her gaze flickering between the two of them. She eventually found her voice when she asked, “Do you have any ID?”

Sam liked how smart she seemed already, but held his tongue on it as he and Dean got out their only real IDs, and handed them over to her. She looked at them both a little intently, and when her eyes eventually lifted again, any skepticism that had been in her expression before was wiped clean.

“…do you want to come in?”

IDs were handed back, and five minutes later they were all sat in the girl’s living room, Sam shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean on a loveseat, and Y/N perched on the edge of a different sofa in front of them. They hadn’t even been sat there for long, but the entire time she hadn’t stopped fidgeting, her leg jogged up and down, fingers messed with a loose thread on her clothes. And though Dean seemed a little irritated by the uncomfortable silence — by the entire situation, really — Sam just felt for the girl. He couldn’t imagine being her age, and finding out he had two much older brothers who had literally turned up on her doorstep.

Then again, when he was her age, he was more often than not covered in some sort of monster’s blood.

“So, um…” Y/N took a breath, rubbed her palms on her knees, before she exhaled a bit sharply. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, I don’t know what to say. It’s just-”

“I know,” Sam eased, and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, we’re sorry to just… drop in, drop this on you.”

“We thought you ought to know about us,” Dean added, his voice also came out more gentle than it usually was. “We were just as shocked as you when we found out about you.”

“What about your dad?” She asked, paused, then, “Our… sorry.”

“No, s’okay,” Sam cleared his throat. “He died some years ago, now.” He’d said it so much over the years that he just felt numb as the words came out. One glance at Dean and he knew that his brother felt the same.

“Oh,” her expression dropped, big eyes looking so guilty, “I’m sorry, I didn’t… that’s horrible, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Dean cut in, waving the girl off. “You didn’t know, it’s alright.”

“Yeah…” she sighed, and took a sip from her glass of water that was sat on the table between them. “My mom said I met him once, when I was a baby he came by. But that was it, she said that he said he was busy with work.”

Sam grit his teeth, and had to glance away for a moment. Jesus, this poor girl. Sam knew how hard it was to grow up with his dad being there sometimes and other times nowhere to be found, but for her to have never even known him? He’d known his sister for all of ten minutes and already he felt almost protective of her.

“He was a mechanic,” Dean told her, offered a small smile. “Me and Sam worked with him until he died.”

“And what do you do now?” She was definitely a curious girl, but Sam couldn’t blame her for wondering about the family she’d just learned that she had.

“Still in the family business,” Dean continued, nodding. “What about you? Still in school?”

Y/N nodded, offered a small smile of her own. “Yeah, I’m a junior.”

“Man, I miss high school,” Dean sighed, leaned back in his seat slightly. “When I was a junior there was this one teacher, Mrs. Bradford, what I would have done to-”

Sam gave him a harsh nudge and earned a glare in return, and quickly muttered, “Shut up, not everyone spends high school skipping class to make out.”

Dean, who had been about to argue back, was cut off by Y/N’s soft laugh, and both brothers turned to face her, see the little smile on her face. “I do skip class sometimes.”

“Ha,” Dean hit his knee against Sam’s. “To do what? Smoke under the bleachers? Steal school supplies?”

“Jesus, Dean-”

“Actually, me and my friends skip to go into town together…”

Sam glanced between his brother and his newly discovered sister, and most of the worry that had been building in his gut earlier that morning had started fading. They still had a lot to even consider — telling her about what they really did, who their dad had been, why they were in town in the first place — but in that moment, starting to chat to her, Sam felt a bit better about it all. Maybe things would go better this time.

He hoped so.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) pt4

chapter 4: lines were crossed

warnings - none at all

series so far - pt1 pt2 pt3

The Bahrain post-race celebrations were in full swing at the swanky F1 club. Y/N, still riding the high of her P2 finish, sipped on a non-alcoholic drink, surrounded by the jubilant Red Bull team. Max, ever the party animal, was already on the dance floor, his gangly limbs flailing to the thumping music.

Across the room, Lewis nursed a beer, a dark cloud hanging over him. Y/N's talent was undeniable, and her audacious overtake had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't help but steal glances at her, her laughter echoing amidst the chatter.

Suddenly, Y/N spotted Nico weaving through the crowd. A smile lit up her face. "Hey, Nico! Come meet Lando," she waved him over.

Lewis watched their interaction, tension coiling in his gut. Nico, ever the protective brother, ruffled Y/N's hair. "So, the wonder rookie," he chuckled, turning to Lando. "Looks like you've got some competition on your hands."

Lando grinned. "Always up for a challenge, Mr. Rosberg. But seriously, P2 in your first race? That's legendary!"

Y/N snorted. "Calm down, Lando. It was just luck."

"Luck, talent, and a whole lot of Rosberg grit," Nico winked. A strong whiff of vanilla overwhelmed the air when Lewis walked past. Then, leaning closer to Y/N, Nico added, "Is the motherfucker wearing vanilla cologne? You remember when you said you loved vanilla on men?"

Y/N's eyes widened in amusement. "Oh my god! He really is. He used to smell like vanilla cupcakes all the time. Too bad he's an asshole now."

A jolt of electricity shot through Lewis. The memory slammed into him with the force of a high-speed collision. 2014, pre-championship battles, a time when he and Nico were still friends. A time when he'd harbored a secret crush on Y/N. He'd doused himself in that damn vanilla cologne, hoping to catch her attention.

The image of Y/N snuggling into his chest, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she inhaled the scent, flooded his mind. He'd been so close, so naively hopeful. But then 2015 came, shattering their friendship and burying his feelings under an avalanche of competitive fury.

The past dissolved as he saw Y/N and Lando laughing, their bodies swaying close as they danced. A bitter pang of jealousy twisted in his gut. He couldn't help but notice the way Lando's arm brushed against Y/N's back, sending a fresh wave of irritation through him.

Just then, Lewis's gaze collided with Nico's. Nico's expression was a chilling mix of anger and concern. He strode across the room, his movements purposeful. Stopping in front of Lewis, he lowered his voice, a dangerous edge to it. "You can hate me," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You can fight me, Lewis, that's old news. But raise a hand on my sister ever again… and I will make your life hell," he trailed off, his eyes blazing.

Lewis's breath hitched. Only then did he truly see the bruise on Y/N's hand, a dark purple blotch against her pale skin. Shame washed over him, hot and unwelcome. His eyes darted between the bruise and Nico's furious face. He knew, with a sickening certainty, that he'd crossed a line.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[pauking5]

Addicting Taste ~ Chapter 1 ~

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: Enishi Yukishiro was on a mission to execute his piece de la resistance. A plan to avenge his beloved sister. Until you showed up, rattling open the icy closed gates of his heart. Will you be a part of his downfall or will you try to save him?

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x fem reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, slow burn, a lot of fluff, occasional smut, angst by the bucket

Words: 6.7k +

A/N: I couldn’t hold back anymore and had to make a fic for Enishi. It won’t exactly follow the Rurouni Kenshin timeline for now but it will later develop into it. This is the first chapter in the series with more chapters coming. It is a reader insert as I couldn’t help but indulge myself in it completely. Powered by Mackenyu’s outstanding portrayal of Enishi’s character in Rurouni Kenshin: The Final, I hereby present you a story ripped from the figments of my mind. I hope you’ll love their story as much as I do. Enjoy lovelies, Paula.

Also thank you @eureka-its-zico for supporting me with this and getting me writing again 🫶

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Bonus Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

“Just how stupid are you?”

A loud smack echoed in the room upon connecting with his cheek, heavy rugged palm twisting his face to the side. He clicked his jaw menacingly, facing forward once more with another devilish smirk.

“You thought you could just get away with it?”

Another heavy punch collided with his face, this one making him drop to his knees. He might have been kneeling, completely at the mercy of someone with much more power in command, but this show of authority trying to assert him into submission did absolutely nothing for him.

Lest the displeasure of being Shanghai's commander in chief's unexpected catch of the night. Maybe even the catch of his whole career.

“You’re a fool.”

Heard that one before, he prepared to spit out like burning acid crawled out of his throat.

Just as the rims of his mouth opened to let the words out, he got cut off by an uppercut digging hard under his chin, throwing his body backwards. He tasted iron on his lips. The force of the blow made blood pool in his mouth surprisingly. He didn't think the old man capable of this much damage but as it turns out he had a thing for facial damage. A pleasure Enishi wanted so badly to return.

Spitting it out through clenched teeth at the side, staining the limestone carpet with crimson splotches to redecorate the man's office with a little color. He would've added other shades of red to the whole carpet, rounding it up on each and every shimmering golden seam until everyone in the room contributed. If only his hands were not bound behind his back, constricting most of his movement.

The man standing tall before him left his face full of cuts and bruises. But that was the least of Enishi’s worries right now.

Many months were spent tracking down the biggest shipment of weapons set to leave Shanghai for Kanagawa. Tonight, Enishi’s men were supposed to rob the storage by the docks completely dry before the ship set sail in the morning with empty cargo. But it turned out to be a harder task than it was intended to be.

He couldn't tell where it all went wrong.

Was it just bad luck? That would've been a first under the remarkable security he had around the area.

Was it a tip-off from the inside? Highly unlikely. If that was the case, he would've smelled the motherfucker who chirped before they even thought it possible to cross him.

Whatever it was, changed the course of the whole plan, rendering it nothing short of a total fail.

That fail was also what led to his current position - with his hands tied roughly behind his back, bloody with his patience running thinner with each breath, lying on the floor of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

A few hours ago

“These dumplings are amazing,” you sighed happily, munching on three baozi dumplings at once.

The lady vendor grimaced at you. Well, less at you and more at your clear lack of manners since you were practically inhaling the soft dough before it even landed in the palm of your hands like a famished grizzly bear.

Leftover crumbs decorated the edges of your lips as you chomped down on the dumplings. You forgot all about etiquette when the food literally melted in your mouth. Heaven was definitely found in food and not in the afterlife and these little desserts were the very proof of it. Your stomach also agreed with that claim every time your mouth touched dumplings in any shape, form or filling.

Who could resist those plump, freshly made babies?

Not me. Ya'll stay safe though.

A little boy walked by with his mother when he caught sight of the dumpling cart. He ran to the cart gluing his face to the glass to watch the lady work the next batch. His breaths fogged up the glass as he gaped at the steaming dumplings in awe and adoration. But when he turned his head and saw the way you were devouring the small pastry like a goblin from the woods his face turned to pure disgust.

What do you want child, you muttered, cheeks filled with the new cherry filling you were trying out. He said nothing, continuing to stare you down as if you had some unresolved business with him.

You were getting annoyed by his staring, so you shot the little boy a slightly threatening look in hopes he would turn back to watch the magic dough rather than try to make enemies with you. Instead he started crying, running off in the direction he came from. You watched until he got tinier and tinier, disappearing somewhere in the depths of the street.

His mother watched the whole exchange from behind you. Upon meeting her burning gaze, she regarded you with a condescending look then followed after her child.

You turned back to your dumplings, chewing slowly in guilt. It wasn't your fault children had the temperament of the unpredictable weather forecast. The vendor lady did not seem to share your opinion, pinning you with an icy authoritative glare typical of her generation. The one that usually scared off the youngsters.

“Can you leave before you scare all my clients away?” she said, irritated with the fact that you’ve been hogging her cart for the past half an hour and you didn't look like you would be leaving anytime soon.

“Listen lady, I am your only client. Plus, I could buy your whole cart if I wanted to. Just let me enjoy these,” you said with your mouth full, reaching for another bag of dumplings on sale. She smacked your hand away, looking down at the bags you were already holding safely on your chest.

“I’ll be the one leaving then," she hissed as she started to put away the steaming buns away and gathered all her tools, folding the cart faster than you could catch up to her. "You might spoil my dough from raising if I stay here any longer,”

“Wait! You can’t just leave -"

By the time you yelled after trying to stop her from leaving with the heaven-sent goodies, she was already gone. Old ladies really are a different breed these days, you thought. Cooking, knitting and chit-chatting were activities that seemingly didn't provide them with enough soul sucking out of people to their heart's content.

Anywho, there went your only meal for the day. At least it was a nice filling one to last you some time and kick in some energy your body desperately needed. You looked down at your stomach with a sigh, patting in a comforting manner before you turned to go on your own way.

The crisp air of mid-October made its presence felt as an icy gust blew against the sleeves of your cotton dress making the material flutter and fill you up with cold air. Your attire was nothing short of inappropriate for the lingering cold season, but the leather bits, like the corset laced up over your chest or the pants under it, kept a fraction of warmth with you.

The chilly weather made it harder to do any jobs, take out hitlist services not requested as much in this period of time. Rage requests usually came with the hot scorching summer rather than the fall of the first autumnal fog. That meant you never knew where your next meal would be coming from most of the time, so you powered through with anything you could find. Though your money was slowly running on empty, you always made sure to keep some aside for your delicacy cravings.

Only mad people walked the streets of Shanghai, the city of all things food confectionery, without indulging in at least one treat from the vendors. Broke or not, you emptied your pockets here on good measure.

There was a downside to all good things in life.

The once bustling street, buzzing with chatter and sizzling pans where savory and sweet scents danced in the air, turned awfully quiet with nightfall. It was the norm in this part of the city. Vendors were quickly packed away and activity was slowly coming to a halt in the wake of the coming night. Any normal person in these parts would know that being on the streets when the last flicker of daylight disappears wasn’t safe in the slightest.

Who would want to be out in the dark with the Shanghai mafia having a full blown war with the commander in chief on the streets until the early hours of dawn? Definitely no one in all faculties of the mind or at least some.

Clutching the rest of your dumplings closer, you made your way down the narrow pathways circling the outskirts of the city. As you padded the cobblestone road, windows hatched closed, doors shut and all light dimmed to ward off danger. The people of Shanghai lived in fear of this war every night. You did too. But at least you had weapons and could defend yourself in case of anything.

The place you resided in for the time being was just a hop down from the city docks. It was a modest room at the top of an abandoned jewelry shop, furnished with a desk, a small wardrobe, and a corner to store the little belongings you carried around. It was not the comfiest nor the safest place in the world, but it provided a space to roll your futon for the night and that was as good as anything.

The bags in your hands shuffled with each step you took. You cast a look at the buns, the delicious smell still wafting up to your nose even as they were covered and tucked inside the paper. On impulse, you bought a bunch of different flavors with all kinds of fillings you haven’t tried before. Just thinking of taste testing all of them made your mouth water and your step quicken with happy strides.

Whilst getting lost in your pastry daydreams, you were shaken back to earth by persistent yelling. As you were making your way further down to the docks, more agitated shouting ensued and the quick pace of your walk slowed down. You were far away from the entrance, unable to really see anything, but the growing commotion piqued your curiosity.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look, right? It's in the way anyway, you shrugged.

Inching closer to the side of the docks entrance, you hid behind an abandoned fishing boat perched up on empty fishing crates. They might've been rusty from being left outside for god knows how long but they still smelled like few days old catch that went off. Ignoring the horrendous smell and tucking your petite form well enough so you wouldn’t be spotted, you looked over the edge of the boat to see what was going on.

Moving your eyes around you counted about twenty masked men, all dressed in black with swords attached to the hip. Mercenaries. You didn't need to see more than the blades and their eyes to be able to tell they were possibly wanted people.

Most of them were frantically rushing in and out of the biggest storage on the other side, holding cases filled with… guns?

As more of them came out you realized it wasn’t just guns - there was long and short range artillery, fuses, even more blades and all kinds of artisanal bombs. It looked like the place to be for pyromaniacs and sadists. Depending on which category took your fancy, there was something for every sin you wanted to commit, from arson all the way to testing out painful killing methods.

Whatever these guys were planning was nothing short of mass destruction.

“We’ve secured all the weapons, Master,” a shushed voice spoke in Japanese from your right. He came closer, standing right in front of the boat you were using as a hiding spot.

He looked about half a person in height. If a wild gust of wind blew his way he would most likely topple over and become dust. Besides that, what caught your attention was the unsure nature of his Japanese accent. He definitely wasn't Japanese but whoever he talked to just now was because they replied in a grave pronounced tone, one hundred percent of Edo origin.

“Good work,” said a deeper voice from the left as he approached too. The way he spoke those simple words was enough to make tremors run down your spine in sheer thrill.

Weird, you shook them off trying to get a better view of the owner of the voice. A curly, tangled mop of white hair entered your vision. The roots were darker than the silvery ends shimmering in the pale blue moonlight.

Damn, this guy was long overdue for a haircut. And a hair dye session. Who was this gramps?

Trailing your eyes further down you took in his sturdy physique that was outlined through the clothes he was wearing. Wait. This is no gramps body. You could tell he was trained in some kind of martial arts. No one just walked around with heaps of muscles like those. You could easily draw a map of the world between those wide shoulders if you focused hard enough on just what lay beneath those tight, crunched up cotton creases- Snap out of it, Miyu.

The loud crash of crates rattling to the floor brought you back to reality. You weren't supposed to be there, eavesdropping and peeking like a spy when these people could probably cut you to pieces in one breath.

I need to get out of here ASAP.

You couldn’t risk getting caught and brought in by the commander in chief. If he wasn’t alerted yet he sure got wind of things by now. That man definitely has mutant senses. You didn't need to get caught by this mafia either because from the looks of it they definitely were part of one.

The last thing you needed was them catching wind of your location. You've spent so long staying under the radar and now was not the time to advertise your whereabouts like you were the main specialty on sale in the morning newspaper.

I am void. I don’t care. I haven’t seen anything.

I am not getting involved with this.

Repeating that mantra several times in your head in order to calm down, you had to figure out a way to sneak out as smoothly as possible without alerting anybody. Not even a fly and especially not the strong muscular white mop of hair who hasn’t moved at all from his spot right in front of you. He was probably one of those people gifted with extended field of vision that could see the world in one side to side look like a bird, so any move or choked breath of yours would fall on his alarm sensors instantly.

After a quick scan of your surroundings, you came to two viable options that would help you avoid getting skewered: going left, straight through the docks and to your hideout located just on the other side; or going right, having to circle around the whole city to get back.

It wasn’t hard to figure out which one was safer. You’d rather go around the whole city as many times as you needed if it meant staying away from whatever they had planned. You just had to wait for the right time to make your way out.

Any minute now...

The two continued supervising the undercover operation, not once moving away. Not even one accidental turn of their heads somewhere else.

More like any day...

If you didn't know any better, you'd think they picked up on your scent and were just waiting for you to breathe through the wrong nostril before they jumped you. The singular possibility of that drenched your spine with cold drops of nervous sweat. You've done the stake out thing a million times before, but this one was somehow so different - gut twisting in churns and knots like you took a hit of deja vu different. Like disaster waited patiently at those rusty gates to catch and cradle you sweet like a lover from the very moment your eyes first laid on the docks tonight.

After an agonizing long while, the two men blocking your view finally moved, heading towards the rest of their squad on the other side of the docks. That was your chance. All you had to do was get set, lift your ass from the floor and sprint the hell out of there before someone caught you and made you fish food.

If only things would play out like that but they rarely do for normal people.

Raising to half your height, trying to keep cover behind the boat, you turned to the right. In your rush to escape, you missed a teeny tiny key detail that was in your way to freedom - a dark brown fishing cord extending from the boat to the other pile of empty crates behind you.

You didn't see it in the darkened confined space around you and if you did, you took notice of it too late, barely making it two steps before your leg tangled in it and you were falling face first to the hard concrete floor, taking the crates behind with you. Disaster caught up to you, smiling sickly at your futile attempt to escape so easily.

The steaming buns you tried so hard to keep close spilled all over the ground in the process. That was the least of your worries. What should've worried you was that you just made the loudest sounds known to man that were probably heard under the sea. The clangs from the metal cages rattling on top of each other before crashing to the ground with a thud, rolling into other piles like rumbling waves of a raging sea, echoing deafeningly in your ears.

Once they stopped, the loud screeching of the crates was replaced by the loud beating of your heart with the realization that your body was halfway exposed to the other side of the docks. In full view for anyone to snap your details. The danger alarm rang multiple times in your head but your body just refused to move.

There was nowhere for you to run without getting caught now.

I’m. so. fucked.

“What was that?” growled one of the masked goons on the other side.

Mophead stopped in his tracks, muscles in his back contracting with impending doom. He turned around swiftly, faster than a wild feline, locking eyes on you. Lifting your own gaze from your uncomfortable spot on the floor, you connected it with his. You choked on a breath caught halfway in your throat before it could reach your lungs.

Dark black eyes akin to predators that lurk in the dead of night pierced yours. They screamed murder. The ‘chop you apart for funsies’ kind of murder, in a silent, more maniacal and lethal manner than serial killers normally sported.

But something about those eyes caught you off guard. He was just a few feet away. Close enough to reach for you and squeeze the life out of you. Close enough to catch the blue hue outlining his pupils. Something about those eyes, though eerie and downright terrifying, awaking every urge to take off to safety, was so oddly familiar that it froze you in place.

Where have I seen these eyes before?

He seemed to be stuck in his own reverie, fixed on your own for a good while. A tilt of his head could only signal his confusion to your presence. Or was it recognition? It could be both.

You don’t even know how long you were both stuck soul searching each other until the roaring sound of gunfire descended down on the docks.

Breaking your staring contest apart, you frantically craned your head behind trying to locate where the firing came from. Then it dawned on you.

The commander in chief is here. Knowing him, he was just waiting for his cue to shine like the superstar pawn of the government he is.

Mophead set off in your direction, most likely to grab you, but he only managed to take a step before bullets lined up a few feet in front of him. With a low grunt, he spared you one last deadly stare marking you as a new enemy to his possibly extended list before retreating back to his gang.

The bullets flew closer and closer to your spot and the intense smell of gun powder filled your nostrils. This was your cue to exit stage. In any direction at this point.

You got to your feet in seconds, saving what was left of your steamed dumplings and made a run for it. A few bullets narrowly grazed the low ends of your dress but you quickly made it to the safety of a dark alleyway close by.

Checking on your precious dumplings in the crumpled paper bags, you saw most of them were unharmed and let out a breath of relief. Then you cursed yourself for leaving your weapons on your neatly folded futon the one time you could actually make use of them.

The blaring gunshots halted all of a sudden. The docks were quiet again. Way too quiet. Strange. Did they run out of ammo this fast? I thought the police got endless resources in that field. Nevermind that, the mob had thousands of them at hand, itching for a little assembling and bullets. A showdown between a gang and the authorities couldn't have just ended this fast. Something felt off.

You made sure the shadow of the brick wall covered you whole before peering over to the docks from the corner of the alley. Assessing the situation, you noticed that half of mophead’s party was shot down by the commander’s force. Blood was everywhere, splattered on the cement from the entrance as far as you could see. Possibly all the way to the other end of the pier. Big and burly bodies that were swarming the warehouse and executing orders just moments ago, now laid lifeless next to and on top of some of the crates filled with weapons. Some of them managed to flee the scene when the firing started, abandoning ship cowardly. The rest of them that were still alive and kicking were captured and put in restraints to be taken into custody, together with their leader who must have been a ticking bomb of rage on the inside by now.

The more you looked at it, you didn't take him for someone that would get caught so easily. He gave the impression of the superior kind of thug. The type that calculates and plans until all doubts, variables and collaterals were executed off the table.

Something didn't add up.

What is really peculiar was that this part of the harbor was not even on the open side, clearly to make the storing of arm supplies as reclusive as possible. But anyone who wanted a hit and run, quick and fast, could flee the scene absolutely undetected under the safety of nightfall. The only way you could get caught was if someone chirped like a hummingbird, loud and close to the commander's ear. You nearly giggled at the possibility until you took another look down at the pier and all amusement in you dissipated.

Maybe it was the smug look on the commander’s face as his men rounded up the thugs. Or the way most of his force came out from what looked like stationed places at the other end of the docks entrance. Even the sure nods the officers shared as they shoved the last of the goons to their knees behind their leader.

It almost seemed like they knew mophead and his crew were going to be here tonight, set on stealing the armament.

No way.

Was this a set up?

Back at the precinct

Enishi was fuming.

Things went sideways too quickly for his liking tonight. The only feasible explanation was that someone talked and he was going to make sure they weren’t seeing the light of day under his watch. Once he made it out of the shithole he was currently held in that was. Which seemed to be somewhere in the far future.

The old man ceased his relentless show of authority punches, changing the plate for questioning, trying to intimidate Enishi. Too bad. Having the man breathe opium smoke in his face did not phase him at all.

“I’m going to ask again," sneered the commander, puffing up his chest with another intake of the drug. "Why were you stealing weapons?”

His patience was running thin, beyond irritation, showing in the way the veins on his neck strained. But he could press on as much as he wanted. Enishi wasn’t going to give him shit.

“Either you talk or your good for nothing squad will suffer in your place.”

He really thought he did something with that line. Those men were disposable. The real ones waited back at the base. He wasn't mad to deploy them for a mission that was supposed to be easy. But this was probably the last time he employed outside resources for a mission.

“I don’t give two flying fucks about them,” spat Enishi. He hoped some of the drops of blood flew to land on the commander's face.

That geature only earned him another punch, this time deep to the stomach. The guards who were holding him let him drop to the floor, more blood dripping on the side of his mouth.

The commander handed his pipe to one of the officers, discarding his coat on a chair before letting his fingers work to roll the sleeves of his shirt up. He moved around his golden desk furniture with the grace of an old dragon, aware of the ways of the world. That was what he wanted his assailants to believe. Truth be told, he was nothing but a puppet for the higher ups.

“I guess I’ll have to beat it out of you then,” said the commander, cracking his knuckles.

Bracing for the commander’s punishment, his thoughts wandered somewhere else. Not to the mission. Not to the missing weapons. Not to his men. But to the girl who was there tonight, hiding behind the boat.

He wasn’t stupid. He sensed someone was eavesdropping from somewhere. It just wasn't in his benefit to do something about it when they weren't showing up to lay claim to the weapons or to stop him from taking them.

But you weren’t supposed to be there. You were a variable in his plan that he couldn’t have predicted. A wildcard? A hidden weapon he could've used? He didn't know. Where a handful of questions swarmed around in his head, three of them stood out the most, distracting him from the incoming hit to his side.

Why were you there tonight?

Who were you working for?

And where have I seen you before?

Ten armed guards at the front of the building. Another two securing the entrance from the inside. Five more moving around the halls. None on the top floor.

Bingo.

Sliding open the glass window on the roof of the precinct, you snuck in quietly. You landed down swiftly, arching your heels like a cat to keep you steady. Stealth mode switched on in your head as you carefully inspected your surroundings.

The top floor is clear.

Tightening the grip on your twin Remingtons, you straightened and advanced to the walls on your right, opposite to the railing on the other side overlooking the secured entrance. No one seemed to be on this level at all.

As you rounded the corners, you spotted a staircase going down to what looked like a meeting hall.

Angry shouting and what resembled the sound of slapping got louder the more steps you descended. Someone was either receiving a beating or they were just into kinky shit.

You were on the last three steps when a guard's boots fell in step close by. Aligning yourself with the wall, you became one with the shadows. You held your breath, keeping your heartbeat under control as well as any other signs that could get you spotted. On the inhale, he walked by. On the exhale, he continued on his path. As he got further away, you tilted your head towards the glass ceiling and released the breath you were holding.

This was a terrible idea.

What were you even doing here in the first place? This was not your fight.

But your conscience convinced you that you were somehow responsible for the unsuccessful outcome of mophead’s mission. Call it remorseful helping.

You weren’t supposed to be there tonight. It was just incidental. Your stupid craving for dumplings made you come out of your extremely comfortable refuge and one thing led to another and you found yourself in the middle of the crossfire. The very thing you hoped to avoid at all costs.

Without thinking too much of your bad choices for the day, you geared up to save mophead. You didn’t know why you were going this far for someone you didn’t know. But you felt needed for once in a while and like you finally had a job to do. That and the fact that the betrayal under his command hit a little too close to home.

There was something else that bothered you about your encounter with him. The moment he locked eyes with you was branded into your head like a burn wound. Your brain replayed it over and over again for no specific reason until it drove you crazy.

Those eyes bugged you to the world’s end. There was something so addicting and familiar to them. But you couldn’t recall where you’ve seen them before no matter how hard you tried.

You needed to find out who this man is. So, like any normal person looking for answers, you went to ask him. Well, you will ask him. As soon as you busted him out of the most secure precinct in Shanghai.

In the meeting hall

“This would be so much easier if you just talked,” yelled the commander in chief.

“How about… fuck you. Good talk,” said Enishi with a sick grin.

“You son of a—,” the commander was cut off by the sound of shots being fired outside the meeting hall. Grunting and yelling ensued for a good minute until everything turned quiet. Everyone’s ears perked up listening for what could follow.

A powerful kick thundered against the golden door to the hall, making it come off its hinges and cave in on itself. The bolts creaked, splintering on the sides and the door fell with a loud thud. You stepped over it, the click of your heeled boots bouncing off the echo in the room.

All eyes were trained on you.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” you chirped, enthusiastically twirling the guns in your hands. They landed perfectly in your hold and you cocked them right at the men in the middle of the room.

“Who are you?,” asked the commander in chief.

“Let’s just say I’m someone you don’t want to mess with,” you said confidently.

“You’re just a stupid girl if you think you can just come in here —“

“This stupid girl just took out most of your guards on duty. It will be her utmost pleasure to take you out too,” you said with a smirk.

Enishi was watching the exchange, his head swimming with confusion for the second time tonight.

Just who exactly were you? And why were you crossing paths again? Also, were you insane to just waltz in the commander in chief's lair like that?

You first show up as a hindrance to his plan and now you’re here to probably mess up more than you already have. He was also kind of blaming you for the situation he was in at the moment. You weren't of any help in his eyes.

At least you proved useful in distracting the guards and the commander so he could work on getting his hands free of the rope tugging at his wrists. Okay, maybe you were useful.

Looking over at mophead, you noticed he freed himself. You haven’t worked in a team in so long so you threw him a look asking for guidance on what to do now. What he saw however, was more of a weird face that kind of creeped him out, but he quickly caught onto what you meant.

He wasn’t sure whether to trust you. But he didn’t have the luxury to audition for partners right now. So, sending a silent nod your way, you let the fun begin.

Mophead lunged for the commander in chief while you preoccupied yourself with the five guards in the room. You easily took out the first one by the couch at the side. Pointing your gun to the next one, you pulled the trigger but nothing happened. You tried the other gun receiving the same vacant response. You were left without bullets having emptied most of them on the guards outside.

Strapping the guns back to your belt, you took a fighting stance and beckoned the officers to you.

Hand to hand combat it is.

The closest guard lunged at you and your fist connected with his nose. A loud crack echoed upon contact, blood seeping through his hands as he cradled his nose.

“You bitch—,” you cut him off by hooking your leg to the back of his neck, dragging him to the floor.

“Did your mother not teach you how to speak to a lady?”

He got back up and got ready to throw another snarky remark but you wasted no time in shutting him up with a nearby chair. The wood broke to pieces as it made contact with him, knocking him out cold. Once he fell to the floor, you directed your attention at the other three guards that started circling you from different sides. Showtime.

You let them come at you. The taller one came first, swinging a baton at your head. Ducking successfully to avoid having your head turned into a baseball, you went for a roundhouse kick to his head. He got projected to the other side from the force you put into the move.

The last two attacked you at the same time. One of them had a knife that managed to get a few cuts through the sleeves of your dress as he kept swinging at you recklessly. He wasn't even looking where he sent his blade. He probably just hoped they got you. If this was the training they got the armed forces were doomed.

You huffed disappointedly as you lifted a slashed piece to check the damage. “I just got this one."

Getting annoyed with his incessant flailing about, you caught his hand just as a slightly smaller in stature officer came from behind you. Kicking back your right leg into the stomach of the one behind, you got a chance to take the knife, throwing it away and out of his reach. You turned and elbowed the knife wielder in the stomach, directing another knee at his ribcage letting him fall flat to the floor.

One more to go.

Standing face to face with your last enemy, you spared mophead a quick look. He was struggling with the commander as he pushed him face down on the big wooden desk. He quickly turned the power around and got him into a deadly chokehold instead.

You didn’t even notice his outerwear was discarded and he was left only in a tank top. His huge biceps flexed dangerously as he tightened his hold on the commander’s neck, pushing into him with all his strength. Sweat was piling like rain drops down his arms and you found yourself drooling. Maybe you digged the whole white mop of hair look.

You were snapped out of your fantasies by the small garden goblin running towards you with a spiked staff. Where the fuck did he get that from?

Do these guys not have one normal weapon on them? Where do they get all this ridiculous stuff from?

You dodged his attacks and his futile attempts at trying to spear you like Dracula, until he got tired and his swings turned sloppy. Finding an opening way too easily, you caught the end of the staff with your right hand and turned your left into an uppercut diving it under his chin. The impact of your hit had him landing in a star shape on the floor. His eyes rolled around unable to focus like birds chirped around his head.

Just as you were finished with him, mophead finally squeezed the living daylights out of the commander and let him fall splat to the floor. He wasn't dead. Just out of service for the day.

Sensing the ruckus in the hall, the rest of the guards from outside started piling up into the hall. You both walked towards each other until you were back to back. In other circumstances you would’ve loved the way your heavy breaths mingled and the way your shoulders shyly grazed each other. But now was not the time to crush on your new partner.

“Any chance you have a plan to get us out of here?” asked mophead. Guards surrounded you from all sides, covering all exit points. The only way to escape was to fight your way out.

“I’m guessing breaking some more necks wouldn’t hurt,” you replied hastily.

“You take the ones on the right. I take the ones on the left,” he directed.

With another nod, you both got into position and waited as the guards descended upon you.

A storm of fists came your way. You tried blocking them as much as you could but five to one was too much to handle without a weapon. Mophead noticed your struggle and tried to get rid of the three baton swingers in front of him. With a low sweep kick to their ankles they all fell over at once, hitting each other with the bats they were holding.

You were holding onto three bats with all your might, pushing your arm muscles to greater strength than they were capable of. Two guards sneaked behind you, ready to deliver a dangerous blow. Enishi intercepted them before they could carry out their plan, catching their arms mid swing and twisting their arms to inhuman angles.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to hit a lady, especially from behind?” he said, towering over them, pushing them to their knees as they writhed in pain.

You finally managed to throw the three men backwards, taking to delivering a kick to each of them. By the time you were done with them you were breathing heavily. You were a good fighter, but your stamina was always holding you back. Mophead seemed to be more trained in that field though as you saw him cutting through the lines of guards with ease, taking down two or three at the time. And he was injured.

Five more guards circled both of you.

“Give me a hand,” you said as you ran towards mophead.

He sensed your idea right away. Latching your hand with his, you created enough momentum for him to pull you around in a circle to kick down all of the guards. Once you got both feet back on the ground looking for your next victims, you noticed the secure hand sitting idly on your waist.

Looking up at him, you saw he’s about a head taller than you. He was scanning the room too. Feeling you tense in his hold, he quickly dropped his hand from your waist and trained his gaze on the broken down door.

“We have to go before more of them come.”

“What about your crew? Are you just going to leave them here?”

“They can get out just fine by themselves,” he growled, annoyed and pissed enough to think of those fuckers too.

And with that he grabbed your hand and you made a run for it, stepping over the bodies of the commander's regiment, falling out into the precinct.

Next

Thank you for reading! Comments, notes and reblogs are always welcome :)

[rafedaddy01]

I got you something

Pairing: reader x Rafe

Summary- you gift Rafe something that leads to an interesting night

Warnings- this is just down right bad (caution when reading) 🤭

Notes- this was a request for this link: ;) reader gifts Rafe this and it obviously leads to smut and then reader tries to put the pieces back so that Rafes sisters don’t know how naughty they’ve been

P.s., I love when you guys interact with my writings so please, reblog, comment, and send in requests

Masterlist

“I got you something” y/n says. “Oh?” Rafe questions lifting one brow curiously.

“Turn around” she tells him twirling her finger. He obeyed, with a sigh. Always so sassy.

She brought the cake she had got Rafe that read ‘Let me ride your face’ in white chocolate letters.

“Turn around” she squealed excitedly. He turned around and eyes dropped down to the chocolate delight. His body vibrating with laughter as he read it. “Oh baby, all you had to do was ask”

He grabbed the cake from her and placed it on the counter.

Redirecting his attention to her he stalked up to her and picked her up like she weighed nothing. He tossed her over his shoulder as he raced upstairs. Her giggles echoing in the empty house.

He put her down and tore his shirt off, sprawling out on the bed and calling her over.

“Come ride my face baby, my tongue is itching to taste you.” His voice husky. She slowly stripped down as she walked to the bed.

She climbed atop and positioned herself, flipping towards to faces his body as her lower half hovered his beautiful face.

With a grunt he pulled her thighs and lowered her to his lips. A small yelp exiting her throat at the harsh action, which quickly turned into a moan as his tongue dipped into her wetness. He squeezed her thighs.

“Fuck” a low curse left her lips as she grinded her hips.

His hands snaked up to her breasts, massing them and twisting the nipple.

“Shit, rafe” she groaned, causing rafe to hum in agreement. Sending vibrations through her body. Her hands coming down to his chest, holding her up.

He sucks on her bud and she goes crazy.

She sighs in satisfaction as she starts riding his tongue.

Her whole body lights up with the familiar feeling of an orgasm approaching.

“Oh shit rafe, I’m cumming” he grips her thighs tighter as his tongue devours her. Her whole body shakes as her orgasm washes over her. Rafes movements don’t slow. Instead speeding up and entering her to suck up her delicious juices.

Her body slumps as she takes in the glory of a post orgasm. Rafe taps her legs to indicate he can’t breath.

Not that he’d complain, it’s be one hell of a way to go out.

She gasps and gets off, “I’m sorry baby” she says. “Don’t be” he props himself up and kisses her lips. She moans at the taste of herself, ready for round 2.

“Now..” he starts. “Let’s go eat that cake?” He says like a child. She laughs as Rafe hands her, her clothes and he too puts his shirt back on.

They walk down to the kitchen, hand in hand. Rafe gets them each a fork and they dig in. Tasting the chocolaty deliciousness and moaning at the flavor melting on their tongue.

As they eat about half the cake, not touching the letters, y/n gets an idea.

“I think I owe you a thank you” she smirks.

Her eyes darting to the still visible hard on Rafe has. She gets to her knees, appreciative that Rafes family won’t be home till later tonight, she unzips his jeans and frees his cock.

Her finger dipping into the bit of chocolate frosting.

Her eyes meet Rafes as she spreads some onto the his cock. He groans as he watched her. Her eyes never leaving his, her tongue darts out and licks.

Her mouth covers the tip and starts bobbing, she didn’t apply to much chocolate not wanting to make a big mess.

She moans at the taste of the sweetness of the chocolate and the saltiness of Rafes pre cum mixed together. Her moans vibrating around his cock and making him jerk.

She grabs his hand and placed them on her head. He gets the message and smirks, so happy he has such a obedient little slut. He grips her hair and she stops her bobbing. He starts thrusting into her mouth, fucking her face until her makeup smears and her tears stain her cheeks, he loved seeing her like this. Fucked out and on her knees for him and only him.

“Fuck y/n. Your throats so tight” he groans out. She moans in agreement, his cock twitching in her mouth from the vibrations she sends. He brings his thumb to her cheeks and wipes the tears.

“So pretty baby girl” he says in a low husky voice. Y/n pussy clenching around nothing at his praise. “So good for me, baby girl” he groans as he thrusts.

“Oh shit” Rafe says throwing his head back. Her heart fills with joy to see what she does to him.

His grip on her hair becomes tighter and she moans once more, that sends him into a spiral. His balls clench as his cum shoots in the back of her throat.

He pulls out and few more spurts splash across her face. His head comes down and groans when he sees the mess he left on her.

She wipes it off her face and brings it to her lips.

“Fuck” he growls.

“Come here” he murmurs as he swings her up, turning her around and pressing her into the counter.

Her pulls her dress up and her panties down.

She whimpers as he brings his cock to her soaking slit, running it up and down.

He finally pushes in and bottoms out with one move. “Fuck, rafe” she says through clenched teeth.

He starts pulling out and slams back in, hitting her g-spot instantly.

The kitchen fills with growls, groans, grunts, moans, curses, and skin slapping. If anyone were to walk in right now it would be a whole porno. The sounds coming out of their mouths was wild and the position he had her in was quite impressive.

Her stomach on the counter. Legs wide and in a butterfly formation, and pulled to the edge.

Her hands were gripped by one of his behind her back, the other tugging her head back by her hair and he was pounding into her at a relentless speed. He was inside her so deep, practically in her guts.

“Oh fuck, baby girl. You look so sexy bent at my will like this” he growls out like an animal. All she can manage out is a moan. He smirks liking the way he has her fucked out of her pretty little mind.

Her walls flutter beautifully around his cock, sucking him in deeper if even humanly possible. The counter filled with her juices. He lets go of her hair and brings his hand around to her front, grabbing her throat and slightly squeezing.

She automatically clamps down on him making him groan out and throw his head back, eyes shutting.

“Fuck fuck fuck” he groans as he pulls out and cums on her back. This was gonna be a bitch to clean. The counter, the floor, themselves..

He pulls back from her, breathing heavily. Her face falls against the cool counter and catches her own breath.

Once their able to breath again he helps her off the counter until she can stand on her wobbly legs. “Fuck cameron, I think you almost killed me. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had” she laughs out in a breath. He chuckles as he pulls her naked body to his, taking in the smell of sex radiating off her. He kissed the top of her head before pulling back.

“We need a shower” she says scrunching up her nose.

A devilish smirk appearing on his face. “Don’t even think about it, I’m wiped” she sternly says. But Rafe always gets his way.

Before Rafe can scoop her up she darts from his muscular arms reaching for her.

“Wait!” She shouts.

He groans. “What?” His disappointed face frowning. All he wants to do is take his baby girl and shower.

She walks over to the cake, he watched as she rearranges the letters. “What are you doing?” He laughs as he walks up and pears over her shoulder. “Your sisters will come home and want some” her concentration falling back to the cake.

“Im trying to make it say ‘I love you’”

“Damn it” she says frustrated at the clear failed attempt.

“There’s no V” she cried out. he Steals the cake from her and grabs it from her.

“What are you doing?” She asks. “Let’s go shower, and then we’ll eat this cake before cuddling in bed” he says, landing a smile to her face. She nods and follows him up the stairs.

“No funny business! I mean it” she poked his chest.

“No promises, baby girl” he jokes as he turns the water on and placed her since the shower. Coming in after her. “Rafe!” She slaps his shoulder as she watches his cock harden again. “Can’t help it baby girl, your just so sexy”

She throws her head back in laughter. Coming back he leans in for a kiss. Totally dissolving any and every thought from her mind.

She leans into the kiss and it gets hot and heavy fast. His kisses end up on her neck.

And eventually his cock ends up in her cunt. Where it rightfully belongs. Hitting her third orgasm for the day.

@v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings

[xxvalkyriesxx]

The flashes of memories through Nesta's and Cassian's lives. Inspired by Taylor Swift's final mashup on the Eras Tour: Long Live, New Year's Day, and The Manuscript. Happy Swiftmas and Angstmas. This one hurts a lot. Happy New Year's Eve Eve.

Read now on AO3 or Below

CW: Major Character Death, Slight smut at the start

You held your head like a hero / On a history book page / It was the end of an era / But the start

of an age

December 27, 2014

A tired sigh left Nesta as she sat down in the armchair near the crib. The hosting stressors had whisked away after the final guest left the night before. She placed her feet on the matching ottoman, hissing slightly at the sight of swollen ankles. 

Nesta knew all of the tall tale signs of the final trimester as Feyre was pregnant almost three years ago with Nyx, and Elain last year with her daughter, Autumn. Yet no amount of preparation could help the eldest Archeon in her first pregnancy.

Rising her gaze, Nesta glanced around the room, a small smile appearing on her lips. The nursery was finally finished, with the walls painted a light gray that seemed almost dream-like. Along the trim of the walls were white swirls of stars, ivy, and flames. An ode to her and her sisters, who through the darkest of times, found their dreams.

Rubbing soft partners on belly over the black nightgown, Nesta tried to relax herself and the baby. However when her eyes glanced over at the calendar that marked the due date a week before, she couldn’t help but grimace a little. “You’re not even here yet, and you’re already having your father’s bad habits.”

“What bad habits am I giving our child now?” A voice called from the threshold of the door. 

Standing in the doorway was Cassian, joggers on, well they were the only thing on. Playfully rolling her eyes, Nesta tried to fight the blush that crept into her face. They’ve been together for almost ten years now, four of them as husband and wife, yet she blushed like she was still fifteen and he was seventeen when he tutored her in biology. Amazingly his deployment ended right before Christmas, making it the first holiday they’ve spent together in person in three years.

“She’s late. Seems to be a habit in our growing family.”

Cassian shrugged. “What can I say? Always be the unexpected, that’s how you get them.” He flashed his signatured grin at her before walking in to sit on the ottoman. Taking her feet into his hands, Cassian began massaging the swollen muscles. Nesta bit down on her lip, trying to keep the noises at bay.

“Don’t be shy, Nes. Ten years, and I can never get enough of you.” He kissed her ankle before placing her feet onto the floor as he pushed the ottoman away from the chair. His knees wound up in the space between her feet, settling into the carpeted floor. Trailing his mouth from her ankles to her inner thighs, Nesta hitched a breath, her legs naturally widening their stance. One of her legs was already draped over his shoulder.

“Nothing underneath?” Cassian smirked. “Did I miss a spot last night?” 

“I think you missed quite a few actually.” Nesta tried her best not to sound too breathless. “I want to issue a complaint.”

Cassian hummed. “We can’t have that now can we? Let me take a taste and see what I can do.” Before she could retort anything more, Cassian’s tongue traced her clit.

~*~

December 30, 2014

“Fuck, Cassian!” Nesta shouted from the passenger seat in agony. “Can’t you drive faster?”

“We’re almost there, Sweetheart.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Just hang on.”

Nesta moaned in distress, the contractions lasting for almost a whole minute. The intense waves tightening inside her seemed to have grown worse since she first experienced them earlier. Reaching over to the cupholder, Nesta grabbed Cassian’s phone, dialing her OB.

On the second ring, the phone picked up. “Berdara speaking, what’s going on.”

“Hi Gwyneth, it’s Cassian Archeon. My wife, Nesta–”

“Cassian, I know who you and your wife are. How is everything–”

Nesta screamed in pain, her face flushed with tears surfacing in her eyes.

“What are your contractions, Nesta?” Gwyn asked, going right to business.

Nesta gasped in pain, her hands on her belly. “The pain is lasting at least a minute, and there’s not–” She cried out. “There’s not much time in between them.”

“Cassian, how far are you from the hospital?”

“It’ll be another ten minutes, doc.”

“Nesta doesn’t have ten minutes. You’re going to have to pull over and help her deliver the baby.”

He went white as a ghost. “E-excuse me?” Flashes of every combat-like training created a montage in his mind. His palms were clammy as his grip loosened slightly. 

“You have to do this, Cassian. Once the baby is born, come to the hospital. We’ll have a wheelchair waiting outfront for Nesta and get her and the baby in a room to check their vitals.”

“Doc, I, I don’t know if–”

“Cassian!” Nesta begged. “Please, we can do this. Gwyn, can you stay on the line?” She whimpered.

“I’m not hanging up until you guys are at the hospital.” Gwyn assured them.

He nodded. “Okay, okay.” Putting on his hazards, he drove their car onto the shoulder before turning it off. “Gwyn, the car’s off and we’re on the shoulder.” He took a deep breath. “Tell me what I need to do.”

~*~

“She’s the spinning image of you, Cas.” Nesta said, her voice tired and hoarse. She settled against the pillows of the hospital bed while Cassian sat on the bedside next to her, looking at their daughter in the hospital provided crib. She seemed so small, but all the nurses said she was big for a baby at almost nine pounds. Her warm skin and pink cheeks matched her tiny pink hat and swaddle.

Nesta recalled the moment she held her daughter she sobbed, holding the tiny girl with black hair. Never before had she seen anyone more beautiful, more precious. Mumbling underneath her breath that her words didn’t hover over daughter’s cries, Nesta made a vow. 

“I will not be like my mother. I will love you until my dying breath, and even then death can’t take my love for you.”

The door to their room opened, both of her sisters walked in, not a child in sight. Feyre raced over to Nesta, kissing her on the cheek. Her youngest sister was a little out of breath, her face pink. “We ran as fast we could once we got here.” Feyre said, trying to catch her breath. “How are you doing?”  She turned to Cassian. “And you?”

Cassian waved her off. “I’m fine, Fey. I just drove like a mad man.”

Nesta shook her head. “You did more than that, and you know it.”

“We heard.” Elain said, coming up behind Feyre, grabbing Nesta’s hand, squeezing gently. “Cassian called Rhys when Lucien and I took Dahlia to their house since Feyre needed help on a few things, and of course Rhys and Lucien wanted to watch the game.”

Nesta looked around for her niece and nephew. Catching her glance, Feyre smiled softly. “The kids are with Rhys and Lucien in the waiting room. Probably starting a ruckus if I had to guess.”

Elain peered over the hospital bed, getting a glimpse of the crib. “So, did you two finally decide on a name?” She circled around to the crib, cueing at the newborn that laid asleep. The couple looked at each other before Cassian picked their daughter up and gently placed her in Nesta’s arms.

“As you guys know, we had a very long list of names.” Cassian started.

“But we wanted to confess something actually.” Nesta couldn’t help the smile grow on her lips watching her husband.

“We only did the long list of names for the dramatics. We’ve had the name picked out for months now.” Cassian grinned. 

Feyre playfully rolled her eyes. “Of course you did.”

“Well, what’s her name then?” Elain pondered.

“Irene.” Nesta spoke in almost a whisper. “After Cassian’s mom.” She smiled at her daughter, gently kissing her head.

Hold on to the memories / They will hold on to you / And I will hold on to you // Please don't ever

December 30, 2024

“Mama, hurry up! We’re going to miss the call!” Irene yelped as the newly ten year old grabbed their two fluffy cats and sat down on the couch, the laptop already open on the coffee table.

“Irene, calm down. We’re not going to be late.” Nesta called out, grabbing the plate with a cupcake and a number ten candle in the chocolate frosting. Coming from the kitchen, Nesta sat down next to her daughter, turning on the video call, knowing full well that it was in the middle of the day for Cassian, but as always, he had given the heads up he would be free.

The call dialed until the familiar man appeared on screen. Clean shaven in his standard uniform, just how he was a few days ago on their last call. Cassian smiled brightly at the two from his camera.

“My favorite girls in the world!”

“And your favorite sons too!” Irene exclaimed, still holding onto their cats somehow. Cassian grimaced and tried to laugh it off. If there were one or two things he didn’t miss during his deployment, Nesta could probably guess, with a tiny smirk on her lips that was just for him to see.

“Ah yes, my favorite boys.” Cassian said, almost like a robot, his displeasure of the animals trying not to seep through. “Bryaxis and Balthazar…” The cats meowed before wiggling out of the young girl’s grasp, running off. “Anyway, this call isn’t about them, last time I checked.” 

As if on cue, both Cassian and Nesta held up similar cupcakes with candles in them. The chocolate frosting over a chocolate cupcake. Although Cassian had to go the extra mile and have sprinkles. 

With the candles lit, Cassian spoke. “Alright, you know the drill.” And sure enough Nesta knew it down to the bone. She and Cassian sang happy birthday in sync although it was probably very off key, but that didn’t stop Irene from sharing her bright smile, conducting them with her fingers.

“Make a wish with Mama first, Irene.” Cassian said gently. 

Nesta held the small plate over to her daughter who blew out the candle before clapping her hands. “Alright, dad. Now it’s our turn!” Leaning over to the laptop screen, Irene blew on the camera while Cassian blew out the candle from his side.

“I can’t believe my big girl is already in double digits. Can’t you go back to when you were like two?”

“And lose all of this perfection? I just made the all-principal honor roll, Dad! No thanks!” Irene said, taking a large bite out of the cupcake. Chocolate cake crumbs and frosting laid on her lips and cheeks. Cassian watched and did the same, the two mirrored images of each other, minus their eyes.

While everything in Irene screamed Cassian, her eyes were Nesta’s. The stormy blues that, as Cassian said, were the same ones he fell in love with over twenty years ago. Smiling softly, she tucked some of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. 

“I can’t believe Mama let you stay up past your bedtime. She doesn’t let me do that when I’m home.” Cassian pouted, eating away at the dessert.

“Maybe if you did better in school she would’ve let you.” Irene replied with the sass laid out on every word. Nesta held back a small grin as Cassian’s jaw dropped a little. “Oh, little sassy are we? Maybe you should go to bed.”

Irene’s eyes widened. “Without opening your letter first?! Not a fat chance.” Dusting her hands off before wiping her face with a nearby tissue, Irene turned to Nesta. “Mama, can I have this year’s birthday letter?”

Glancing at her daughter, she pretended to think for a moment, making Irene scowl. 

‘I now understand Cassian’s reasoning by naming my glare, ‘I will say my enemies’ look’. Nesta thought, reaching into a nearby bag from the floor and taking the old envelope out. 

Before Irene was even born, Cassian had already managed to write their child at least thirty letters.

“You don’t even know what she’s going to be like! Or what her hobbies will be, or what she’s busy doing!” Nesta exclaimed, six months pregnant, lying in their bed.

Cassian looked up from the papers that scattered his desk, glancing at his wife in the laptop camera. “It’s the thought that counts, Nes.” He glanced down at the letter he was currently writing. “Besides I’m not sure where I’ll be if I’m still in the Navy on any of her birthdays.”

“I want her to always have a piece of me every year she turns older, no matter what.” It laid unspoken, the possible death at their fingertips every time he went overseas. Nesta could only nod in agreement, trying to suppress the dark emotions that tried to erupt. 

With the letter in her hand, she ripped open the envelope, pulling out the piece of paper. Irene began to read outloud.

“Dear Irene. It’s daddy, but seeing how this is your tenth letter, I’m sure you know this by now.”

Irene looked up from the letter, Cassian’s signature grin on her lips. Cassian nodded his head. “Keep going.”

“I’m not sure where I am at this moment in time, I could be with you right now, or I could be deployed. Maybe I’m out picking up your favorite thing for dinner if I’m home, and if not, maybe we’ll talk at some point today over the phone.

Either way, I know we haven’t met yet, but I’m so proud of you. Ten is a big deal, but I’m sure you know that. You’re almost done with the fifth grade and soon enough my baby is going to start middle school.

I hope you know how much your mother and I love you. We wouldn’t trade you for the world. I hope you enjoy this day with many desserts, you probably love chocolate cake as much as your mother.”

“I don’t know about that one.” Nesta said taking a piece of the cupcake, a small smile appearing from the taste of chocolate.

Irene pouted. “Get your own cupcake.”

Nesta wrapped her arm around her daughter. “Not a chance.” Before she went in for a second bite. Irene yelled trying to save her cupcake. The two shrieked and laughed then eventually came down from the high. Cassian’s eyes were watery, his cheeks wet.

“Daddy, is everything okay?”

“Of course, pumpkin.” He sniffed. “Finish reading the letter.”

Picking up where she left off, Irene started speaking again. “I know every letter so far has been similar, but it’s kinda hard to write future milestones that I’m not sure have happened or not. Hopefully you’re like your mother and you're doing well in school.

There isn’t much more to say right now. Your mother is six months with you and she’s currently curled up in bed, wondering what her husband is doing this late on a Sunday night.

I love you, Irene. Enjoy your tenth birthday!

Love, Daddy.”

Reaching over, Irene put the letter on the table. Her eyes were pink with tears dripping down her cheeks. Nesta bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back her own tears.

“When are you coming home, daddy?” Irene mumbled. Her sleeves were covered in snot. Nesta leaned over, kissing their child on her head. She rubbed her back, trying to soothe the young girl.

“I’m almost done, pumpkin. I’ll be home hopefully before the snow goes away. So that way, you and I can enjoy sledding one last time before spring.”

“Promise?” Irene asked, her face now flushed with sadness.

“Promise.” Cassian echoed.

“Why don’t you clean up, Irene. It’s past midnight already, and we have a big day with your cousins tomorrow for New Year’s Eve.”

Irene pouted. “Mama, can’t I stay up longer with Daddy?” Nesta shook her head. “It’s late, you need to rest. We’ll talk with him again soon.” 

“Mama, please!” Irene begged.

“Listen to your mother, Irene. It’s way past your bedtime.” Cassian’s voice chimed in through the laptop speakers.

She groaned, stomping her foot before standing up. Nesta spoke softly. “Tell daddy you love him.” Irene turned to the laptop and didn’t try to hide her disappointment. “I love you, daddy! I’ll see you soon!” 

Then Irene left, walking to her bathroom. The steps of her small feet padded against the wooden floors in sync to the drum protected by Nesta’s ribcage. Sighing gently, she turned her attention back to the screen. The ache of a missing “I love you” threaded her bones with invisible string, grasping at nothing.

“I still can’t believe you wrote so many letters to her.” Nesta said gently.

“We’re not promised tomorrow, Nes. I wanted to give her something in the event that fate would step in.” He wiped his eyes. “Force us into a goodbye we never want.”

“I can’t wait until you're here again, Cassian.” The walls crumbled, her shoulders sank. “It’s been really hard.” Nesta squeezed her eyes tight, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Almost twenty years we’ve been together, Nes. You can cry in front of me, you know.” Cassian smiled sadly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you cry?” Nesta hiccuped, the tears spilling. She wasn’t sure if she choked down a sob or a laugh.

“I’ll be home before you know it, Sweetheart. Then I’ll retire, and we’ll take the longest vacation ever. Just you and me for a bit, get your sisters to watch Irene, then fly her out to us, wherever we are.”

“Where would we go?” She asked, blowing her nose.

“Anywhere you wanted. We could visit every romance bookstore in the world, if you wanted. Enjoy a piece of chocolate cake from every continent.”

Cassian looked at Nesta, with love in his eyes. “I’d go anywhere with you, Sweetheart.”

“Likewise.”

~*~

March 18, 2025 

Ironically there were no clouds in the sky, and the rays of the sunlight gave everyone a little warmth in their black dress clothes while catches of breaths could be seen in the mid-morning air. The grass was slowly coming back to its bright green while tiny sprouts on trees could be seen overhead. Spring was almost here on their doorsteps, filled with new beginnings.

On top of the casket, lay the orchid arrangements. The petals were white in contrast to the dark clothing worn. They were her favorite flower, so when the funeral home asked about lilies or roses, Cassian put his foot down.

“My wife loves..loved orchids. I want those to be at the funeral. She would hate the lilies and roses.”

A small hand held his that kept him anchored to the ground that Nesta would be lowered into in the coming hours. Irene’s face hid in his side as she cried out for her mother. The sunlight reflected the badges of honors Cassian earned in the almost two decades of service. His sisters-in-laws on either side of him and Irene, trying to keep their tears in for the family.

“What dies, doesn’t stay dead.” The pastor said gently to the friends and family that came to the burial. “Nesta lives on through all of you. Her spirit is bright and full with the memories that you hold onto. In return, they will hold onto you in your darkest hour.”

He stood still, the tears dripping down his cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Out of the two of them, he was going to die first. The risks he made, the life he lived, the service he attended, it was all there. The letters to Irene until her fortieth birthday because he had the feeling he wouldn’t live to see them pass her teenage years in fears of his death approaching closer and closer.

Instead, Nesta was laid peacefully in the casket. Her body looked almost magically healed that no one suspected she was in a fatal car crash. But there was no god-like cauldron or spiritual mating bond that kept her soul tethered to Cassian to bring her back to him. 

One by one the guests paid their final respects before leaving. The sea of black migrating out of the cemetery. Elain and Feyre held each other as the youngest Archeron fell to her knees. The ground staining her stockings. Rhysand and Lucien stood with their children, their own eyes misty. Irene wailed for Nesta to come back. 

“Mama come back. Please come back!” She sobbed. “I don’t hate you. I didn’t mean it. Please Mama. Come back. Daddy’s back now. We can be all together again.” The casket went unmoving.

Eventually Cassian was the only one left, alone to his thoughts. “Nesta, what am I supposed to do?” He asked quietly. “Nesta, Nesta please.” He hiccuped. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t do any of this without you.” 

He screamed. “Wherever you go, I go. And yet you left me for a place I can’t touch or see or even taste. All I have are my dreams and nightmares that haunt my mind.” 

“I have no regrets in my life, but this…” His voice horse through the cries. “That I did not have the time with you, Sweetheart.”

Ironically, it was a perfect day for rain.

And at last / She knew what the agony had been for // The only thing that's left 

December 25, 2045

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” Irene shrieked as she walked into the living room of his house.

The mix of grays and blacks in his hair and beard stood out to the ugly red sweater he wore every year. It was three sizes too small, but not once did Cassian care if it didn’t fit him like he was a kid again.

“Merry Christmas, Irene.” He said happily. He gazed down at the sparkle on her ring finger, knowing his only child would have a family of her soon.

“How is Elena?” He asked, the picture of his future daughter-in-law flashed in his mind. She had made Irene so happy over the last several years.

Irene sat down on the sofa next to him. “She’s good. She’s visiting her parents for the morning as well.” The woman leaned down to a nearby bag and pulled out a rectangle box wrapped in pretty paper. Cassian sighed, a smile on his lips. “I told you, no gifts.” Irene raised an eyebrow. “Well then dad, no gifts.” She nodded over to the present on the table that was addressed to her.

“That’s different. You’re my child.”

“And you’re my dad. It’s not different. It’s family. Our family.”

She pushed the box more into his lap. “Open mine first.” She smiled sweetly. “Please.” Cassian rolled his golden hazel eyes before unwrapping the box from the paper. The festive colors scattered on the carpet like fallen leaves. Taking the lid of the box, Cassian lifted and tilted his head. In the box laid a sweater, and on it seemed to be house keys.

“You’re getting older too, Dad. We have the room for you. I want to provide for you.” She sniffed. “You did your absolute best when I was a kid. I don’t like the idea of you being alone.” She sucked in a breath. “I know it’s a lot to think about, but it would give me some peace of mind.” 

Cassian’s lips trembled just slightly as he tried to say something. Taking a moment, he grabbed the keys, then looked at his daughter. “I’ll think about it, but I do find it weird how my daughter will be my roommate.”

“It will be like old times.” Irene said gently. The two chuckled before embracing one another in a hug. Cassian pulled away, smiling as leaned down to Irene’s present.

“This is for you.” 

“What did you get me this time?”

“...It’s not from me, but your mother.” 

Irene’s hands froze, the paper fell to the ground. An uncovered small box was left in her lap. Cassian sniffed, wiping his old eyes. “I wrote letters for your birthday, but your mother, she wrote you one, for when  you found your person.”

Her body began shaking, the lid opened to a folded up piece of paper. “D-dad why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I swore I wouldn’t say anything when she wrote it. You were like seven making heart eyes to some kid down the block.” He hiccuped. “Your mother was a romantic at heart, so she couldn’t help herself.”

“You read it.” Irene handed him the letter.

Cassian furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Irene’s eyes were red when she shook her head. “I just want to listen for now.” Her voice was quiet. He nodded, understanding the emptiness that never filled their hearts after Nesta passed. Clearing his throat, Cassian began.

“Dear Irene.

You can’t read this until you have found the one who you will spend the rest of your life with. If you haven’t found them, save this for that day.

But if you have found the one, I’m so happy to hear, my sweet girl. I know they will treat you so right, because you deserve the whole world. You’re only seven when I’m writing this, but I know even when you’re reading this at twenty-five, please don’t be younger than twenty, I might have to kick your ass, and your fiance’s too.

Love.” He choked on a sobbed. Irene held his hand in her own, encouraging him through her tears.

“Love has its ups and downs, your father and I know that our whole lives. There have been days where we’ve woken up not liking one another, but we made it work. We listened, and we communicated. It’s going to be rough, Irene, but I know you also have me in your blood. If I could survive being married to your father, giving birth to you in a car, and somehow still getting my law degree, I know you’ll only be able to top that.

I’m so excited to meet this person. I…I can’t wait to go wedding dress shopping with you. I would offer you my dress, but it was more cost effective to just rent one at the time. So when you’re ready, let me know. I want to buy your dress for you.

I love you so much–”

Irene sobbed through the letter. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks as he gathered her into his arms. “It’s okay, I’m right here.” Cassian said, not believing his own words. The two cried, tears collected onto their sweaters. Irene took the letter, tracing her mother’s handwriting.

“You kept this for so long.” Irene mumbled.

“It’s what she would have wanted. You know how particular your mother was.”

His daughter snorted, the first sign of not just crying in minutes. “You can say that again, Roomie.” The two laughed as Cassian stood up, the coffee ready.

October 13, 2004

She looked down at her watch, the tutor was late. Nesta groaned, leaning back in her chair. Her silver razr in her hands, receiving a message from Elain. Rolling her eyes, she pressed the numbers to achieve the letters needed before answering her.

“Nesta Ackeron?” A voice called out behind her.

Setting her phone on the table, Nesta turned around to see none other than Cassian Knight, the star linebacker of the highschool football team.

“It’s Archeron. What do you want?” She glared at him.

He blinked. “You’re here for the biology tutor sessions?”

She blinked back. “Oh, the tutor is late.” 

Silence met her before Cassian erupted in laughter. He slapped his knee as tears streamed down his face. Flushing red, she stood up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh sweetheart, can’t you read? I’m your tutor.” He flashed her a grin. “And I’m going to love these sessions.” 

Rolling her eyes, Nesta sat back down, Cassian sitting across from her. Golden hazel meeting blue gray face to face. She would be lying if she said her heart didn’t squeeze at his words. 

She wasn't sure // And the years passed / Like scenes of a show

May these memories break our fall // Will you take a moment? / Promise me this

You and me, forevermore // Don't read the last page

[anzynai]

Oh my gosh im so excited to see a twst writer in the community!! Can u please share some heartslabyul headcanons (no pressure if u dont want to) i just love them so much thank you!

Heartslabyul Hcs

HELLOOO this has been sitting in my ask box for ages and i am so sorry for dying and not posting for a whole month.. erm. anyway, headcanons. unfortunately no new fic im sorry but uh soon!!! its heartslabyul tho soo enjoy!!

——

since riddle was never exposed to tickling when he was a child, he was always curious about what it felt like. like, he’s read about it, heard about it, etc, but just couldn’t imagine HOW it could make someone laugh. afterall, it sounds so absurd. which makes total sense.

it wasn’t until he started hanging out with chenya and trey that he finally learned what it was like. chenya had been the one to poke him in the side first. riddle had jumped, sputtered, giggled, and jsut reaxted like how any ticklish person would and riddle was like,, what was that?? chenya had simply told him he was curious and trey was like “oh, youre ticklish, huh?” and suddenly it made SO MUCH sense. THATS what tickling was like, and now that he had a taste of it, he was curious about more. being actually tickled and tickling someone. thankfully, being friends witb the two, he did in fact experience those

when he arrived at nrc, it didnt happen as much but trey seemed to notice that riddle didnt exactly hate tickling. as he got older he tried to hide it, but he didnt hate iy. maybe wasnt as interested as when he was younger, but it was more neutral. trey would like to poke him to get his attention and such.

trey is ticklish but maybe would prefer to be tbe ler, or at least let it be equal. he’s like, teh nonchalant tickler HELPP so like, usually won’t go very far, not more than a poke to tbe side or something small like that, but well, he still does it to like most of heartslabyul and his friends outside of heartslabyul, but is like totally casual abt it so sometimes ppl wonder if they should even bring it up

when they do, “i only wanted to get your attention.” hey trey! calling their name works just as well btw!! no but sometimes he does it just because he feels like it. always the same excuse too😭

cater is pretty ticklish. he has a love-hate relationship of it. i thjnk he enjoys tickling people, but doesnt do it much because HE doesnt particularly ENJOY getting tickled and he doesnt want them to like, retaliate. he doesnt hate it but his sisters loved tickling hjm when he was younger so it kinda left a bad taste in his mouth. basically, he usually will only have a good time if its someone he knows well and is comfortable with and he knows theh wont push him to the brink. he doesnt like to laugh uncontrollably i feel like. eitherway, he def tickles others the same exact way bc he doesnt want them to feel the same way he does about it.

he doesnt mind gentle tickles at all, but again, ws long as he’s with the right people. i feel like with a partner, he would actyally really love tickles while they r cuddling. super cute, yes.

deuce didnt get tickled a lot, at least not until he entered nrc. never really had any feelinfs towards it. he hated it when he was younger, became more neutral about it when he grew up. he would definitely defend someone if they thought it was embarrassing. “everyones ticklish! nothing to be ashamed of!”

this actually leads to him getting tickled about half the time😭😭 because everyone loves to tickle the first year students (i would too). super embarrassed? yes. super awkward? yes. hates it? nope!! prob would be blushing and all but never have any complaints

ace, on tbe other hand, did get tickled a lot when he was younger and that did not change upon his arrival to nrc. i dont know how to describe it, he just radiates those vibes. also i frel like he was more of the “popular” guys in middle school (he peaked in middle school just kidding) but he was prob the one his frienfs liked to gang up on and tickle

doesnt PARTICULARLY seek out being tickled but will ALWAYS join in if one of his friends is being tickled in front of him with the most sadistic smile on his face. he js evil, do not let urself be tickled by him (or do maybe).

yk that guy who will convince others to tickle the super scary boss?? no?? well whatever, that’s cater. tell me he doesnt whisper to the freshman to tickle riddle… everyone knows its him too except riddle because, well, the freshman never get too far in their endeavors. afterall, leaders are to set an example!

trey knows ofc, but does he stop it? ofc not!! riddle needs a laugh time to time after all.

tickle fights. between all five of them. most r started by the chaotic duo (ace and deuce) or cater. and well, the winner is USUALLY cater or riddle, trey too. ace and deuce never win. plus, cater has his clones to back him up, but if riddle uses his spell, he’s the first one gone

trey just kinda lets it happen, until he doesnt. yea hes ticklish but rarely does he lose unless he lets it happen on purpose. (until u get his back, then he’s done for) riddle and cater know this pretty well, ace and deuce have yet to find out. whenever they come close, trey quickly turns the tables LOL

[onk-confessions]

My biggest gripe with the ending is the glorification of suicide & not adjusting it as such. I would've been okay with the ending if it was addressed properly, for us as readers to mourn Aqua and recognise his suicidal ideation from earlier in the story. But no, Aka gave us a whole chapter where he was screaming about not wanting to die, as if that makes it not a suicide, then have AKANE, who was talked off the ledge in her introductory chapter, tell us how perfectly executed Aqua's plan was & explicitly say "Aqua doesn't want to die he just did it because he chose the noble path of protecting his sister."

It was awful, I feel like I don't get to mourn the character in a way I'm supposed to. I had to see Akane monologue about how Aqua's death was selfless & wonder, compared to what? Compared to how Akane's arc in love now? Is suicide okay as long as you're not doing it for yourself? It just left such a bad taste in my mouth.

Submitted by Anonymous

[tklpilled]

at this point, aether is used to being a test subject. he came to teyvat to find his sister, yet now he’s going to leave an unwilling hero and guinea pig—and, by the looks of it, still sisterless.

he can’t count how many times he’s gone through lisa asking him to try a new spell, or charlotte telling him to stand still so she can work on her photography, or lyney practicing a magic trick he’s just come up with. he doesn’t mind it, really, not that much—it’s better than trying to fix all the archons’ problems for them.

(he’s still hoping for diluc to join the ‘ask-aether-to-try-every-new-thing’ club, but considering everyone thinks he’s a teenager and not thousands of years old, he doesn’t think he’ll be doing a wine tasting any time soon.)

point is, this whole thing isn’t just because of his own stupidity. he made a very understandable assumption, alright?

“come here,” albedo says, writing down some notes. “i want you to try this elixir out for me, if you wouldn’t mind.”

aether nods, although albedo can’t see it with his head bent down. he walks over to the table and sees two bottles, both filled about halfway. on the right is a pale green, glistening substance, and the bottle on the left contains a much more appetising blue-purple liquid. albedo doesn’t look up from his notes, so aether takes a fifty-fifty chance and picks up the left bottle. he downs it in one go.

albedo looks up, then tilts his head. “that wasn’t the right one.”

oh.

if paimon were here, she’d panic and begin asking every question she could think of—but she’s not here, and aether doesn’t know how to panic for himself. so, all he says is, “am i going to die?”

“no,” albedo says, sounding a little amused at how flat his voice is. “but—”

“will i be in pain?”

“no.”

aether shrugs. “alright then. i don’t see a prob—lehem!”

his hands shoot up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening as a sudden sensation washes over him. albedo looks on with a mixture of pity and curiosity as he sinks to his knees. “maybe i should have warned you better…”

aether curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle now instead of his mouth. “m-mahahake it stohohop!” he pleads, scrunching up his shoulders to protect from invisible, non-existent hands.

albedo kneels down beside him, admiring the grin adorning his face. he’s never heard aether laugh quite so freely before, and it’s very endearing. he finds himself staring for longer than he had intended. aether is the one being tickled, yet albedo is the one blushing—that doesn’t make any sense.

“in my experience, it stops after a short while,” albedo finally says, blinking away from aether’s incredibly pretty face, “although i took a much smaller dose than you. i’d estimate ten minutes at most.”

“t-tehehen?” aether squeaks. “i cahan’t—too muhuhuch!”

albedo can’t help but smile. aether’s laugh is far too contagious. “calm down, you’ll get used to it soon enough. it won’t feel nearly as bad in a couple minutes.”

despite his words, aether whines through helpless laughter, although he keeps any more complaints he may have to himself. from what albedo had experienced, the tickling wasn’t intense at all; merely a step beyond tingling, just enough to make one laugh. for someone as ticklish as aether, he supposes it might be a bit worse, but the overall outcome should be mostly the same.

“it was supposed to be a strength enhancer,” albedo says, carrying the conversation while aether is too busy cackling beside him. “it still is, technically. it just has some…very strong side effects. i’m sure if you could manage to stand, you’d find yourself a bit better with that sword of yours.”

“plehehease,” aether begs. “mahahake it stohohohop…!”

“hm.” albedo reaches around him to scratch at his side, sending him scrambling away with a shriek.

“i hahate yohou!” he wails, then returns his arms around his waist protectively and kicks against the floor a little. “yohou’re cruhuhuel!”

“i could leave you here until it's over,” albedo suggests, making aether frantically shake his head. “maybe even make some more for you.”

“y-yohou wohouldn’t!” aether cries, although they both know he absolutely would. 

albedo pokes a spot on his tummy that his arms fail to cover up. “if you say so.”

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ Ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ - Ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ: Ａｉｌｍｅｎｔｓ

TW/CW: Flashbacks, hints of abuse/neglect

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Keigo meets your annoying sister, and you find out the hard way you stayed outside WAY too long... luckily, you have someone to take care of you.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Angst with comfort

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:  2162

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @marydragneell, @numblytemporary, @rainycloud858

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚡 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 / 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎

“What? Can’t I come visit my own sister?” She balks, throwing a hand over her chest in a motion of false offense. “Atsuki told me what happened- I gotta say, it’s about time he dumped your petty ass.” 

She steps in further, a low whistle coming from her lips. “Ah- so you’re trying the whole ‘gold digger’ vibe. Gotta say, I’m not too surprised.” She chuckles, striding towards you. She holds out her left hand, an expensive and familiar looking ring on her finger. 

“I’ll be getting married with him soon- Didn’t think you’d have good taste, but you can definitely be full of surprises! Oh! And Juni says you need to pay this month’s rent and get your shit off the curb.” She has that same grin that you’ve always hated- smug, snobbish, and entitled. 

“Is this your-” Keigo starts, annoyance and confusion visible on his face. 

“God, you haven’t even told him about me!” She scoffs, shaking her head. “I’m her sister. Younger but better. Anyway, I should get back. I’ll send you details for the wedding- can’t wait to see you there!” And with that… she takes her leave. Purposefully brushing past Keigo and giving him one of her flirty grins. 

Though, she suddenly slips, and Keigo steps back, letting her fall. “Oh, damn… I guess I forgot to clean up the water. My bad,” He’s barely hiding a smirk, and you find yourself covering your mouth with your hand to conceal your own. 

You hadn’t smiled in years, and yet you met him… and you’ve smiled two or three times tonight alone. 

She huffs, getting up and storming out. He glances over at you.. And you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. For a brief second, shock flickers over his expression. “Sorry, sorry- I’ve never seen someone treat her like that.” You wheeze, catching your breath. He can’t help but chuckle too, shutting and locking the front door. 

“Well, what can I say? She was annoying, and I don’t do too well with those kinds of people. Just don’t have the patience, I guess?” He gives an overexaggerated sigh, before chuckling with you. “You had to grow up with that?” 

You sigh lightly, the smile slowly sliding off your lips. Back to the more blank slate expression- one you found you easily fell into. “Yeah. She’s always been like that too.” You shrug. His wings bristle slightly as he returns to his spot across from you. 

“Family sucks.” He dips his head in agreement- though there’s a small noise in the back of his throat again. 

“I’ll start looking into jobs tomorrow, and I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible. You’re busy, so- I think until I have something down, I can contribute in the sense of, uh- well, cooking and cleaning, if you’re ok with that.” You offer. You don’t want to intrude into his space without giving something in return- that would be selfish. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that-” He waves a hand lightly, but you tilt your head slightly. 

“... please..? It’s the least I can do as a sort of ‘thank you’,” Your words seem to give him pause- he looks at you with an unreadable, yet neutral expression. After a few moments, he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Alright, fine. Home-cooked meals are better anyway, and I’m not really picky with what I don’t like.” He gives you that stupid lop-sided smile again. “And.. don’t worry about ‘staying out of my way’. I like having you around.” 

He reminds you of the heartthrob character you see in those damn anime shows you watch. Except- this one is very real, and sitting only a few paces away. 

“You like chicken, that’s for sure,” You tease, your face flushing slightly as you brush past his words- he just smiles a little more, chuckling and shaking his head again. 

“Kid, you’re something else.” He pauses, taking a sip of his tea. “But, you’re my kinda somethin’ else.” His eyes trail to the stovetop. 

“It’s pretty late, and you gotta be exhausted. I’m gonna be up for a bit, finishing some paperwork from… ah- last week? I seriously need to stay on top of that stuff-” This time, an awkward laugh falls from his lips. 

You blink, watching as his blonde locks fall just right to frame his face. He takes another sip. “My office is the room to the right of the kitchen-” he gestures with his cup, and your eyes follow. Not too hard to remember- even though you’re certain you’ll get lost here more than once. 

“- so if you need anything, I’ll be there.” He sets down his cup, before stretching. His wings spread out behind him, flexing in an almost dominant fashion. Your eyes widen- they are huge when fully extended. Pictures don’t do them justice. 

“Thank you, Keigo. For all of this- if there’s anything I can do to help around here, just ask.” You finish your tea, and he carefully takes the empty cup from you. 

For a brief moment, electricity courses across your fingers as they brush against his. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation, but- a new one nonetheless. 

He says nothing about it. It’s possible he didn’t even notice. “Now, go get some sleep.” He chuckles, gesturing with his head to the guest room. 

“Yes sir,” You tease, careful not to jump down off the stool and hurt your feet. As you pad into your temporary bedroom, you miss the soft expression of concern and curiosity that follows your frame. 

You crawl into the massive bed, finding that you were right- the sheets were silk. They were comfortable, for sure. Though… as you began to wind down for the night, a few of those pesky little thoughts began to creep in. 

You’re encroaching on this man’s space. He’s been nothing but kind, but was it genuine? He was definitely the type of person to be kind even if it was inconvenient- but that was a front. You could see through it, and that little interaction with Megumi was all the confirmation you needed. 

So was it out of pity, or something else? You were nothing special, something that could be replaced by just about anything. 

Your body was tainted, your memories spotty at best- you’re a total fucking trainwreck. Yet, he was being kind. There has to be a reason- a motive. What did he want? 

You stare up at the ceiling. There’s no way in hell he could just want you around because of your ‘charming personality’. You didn’t like to be touched, you got random stupid migraines that made no damn sense, you were the human equivalent to a opossum or raccoon- and your emotions are so fucked you rarely laugh or smile and you can’t even cry. 

You’re nothing in comparison to him. In comparison to literally everyone else. 

Your chest feels tight- but you simply sit up, ignoring it. The closest thing you got to crying was the feeling of a lump in your throat, and your face heating up. Maybe you were sick- maybe that’s why no one ever stayed. 

You cough, an unfamiliar itchiness in the back of your throat making itself known. You huff running your hand down your face before resting your elbows on your knees. Of course, you’re probably physically sick too. 

Just another way to burden him. 

You shake your head, pursing your lips. You felt colder than usual, but you literally felt a breeze. The AC was more than likely on. You’re fine- you’re always fine. Just… take what you’re given. 

Don’t ask for more, because you’ll lose everything the second you try.

As your eyes finally start to flutter closed, you wrap yourself in the blankets. Maybe you could actually sleep for once… though, considering this was essentially a strangers house, you somehow doubted it. 

You definitely wouldn’t bother him with something as petty as the temperature. You curl up on your side under the blankets, ignoring just how much you’re shivering as best you can. 

After god knows how long- you fall into an uneasy slumber.

Keigo, on the other hand, was having a hard time focusing on the documents in front of him. You were such a kind soul, but you’d clearly been through hell and back. No one despised touch that much and didn’t have some sort of trauma associated with it. 

On top of that- your emotions were hardly present on your face. It was all in your eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. Though- he’d gotten a small smile out of you, and even made you laugh. Both were heavenly. 

He exhales softly, messing with his hair a bit as he thinks. Leaning away from the documents, his mind trails back to that date from earlier… and how different your demeanor was when you showed up on his front door. You seemed more… put together, in a sense, before he left. 

Her boyfriend broke up with her, on their anniversary. How shitty is that? Yet, she hadn’t cried. It reminds him of a girl he met when he was younger, but- there’s no way it could be the same person. 

She’d been proclaimed dead by the officials at the age of 8. 

He groans, shoving himself away from the desk. Yeah- he isn’t gonna get jack shit done tonight at this rate. His wings involuntarily flap in annoyance. 

Stepping out of his office- a new scent slams into him like a semi into a deer on a highway. 

Cortisol- and something else. His brows furrow and he frowns, slowly creeping towards the guest bedroom where you slept. It only got stronger the closer he got… what was going on? Were you hurt somewhere else? Were you afraid of something?

His mind starts to race with possibilities- and when your scratchy voice breaks through the silence, it clicks together. That sickly sweet smell- it was literal. You were sick- that explains the odd scratchiness in your voice earlier. 

You’re pressing your face into the silk pillow, shifting every so often. Soft mumbles fall from your lips, but with his enhanced hearing, he’s able to make out bits and pieces. 

“... ‘s ok, ‘m ok… ‘m used to it…” His brows furrow more, concern washing over his body in a wave of pure ice. Used… to what..?

“... ‘ll be good-” You jerk a little, before your eyes flutter open. You don’t seem to realize he’s in the room- instead, you simply curl up, making yourself as small as possible. He can’t keep the stupid trilling noise from coming out- it’s an involuntary trait. 

You twitch, eyes shooting open. “Juni…” You mumble, backing up into the bed. Do… do you think he’s your ex? 

“No, Dove…” He finds the nickname tumbling off of his lips before he can even think about it. “... it’s Keigo.” 

You take a moment, before relaxing a bit. “... Kei…go…” You murmur, letting your body relax back into the pillows. “... ‘s cold..?” It comes out as more of a question than anything, and he blinks. It’s 75 in here- how are you cold? 

He slowly approaches, ensuring you can see where he is at all times- never making a sudden move. He doesn’t want to make you panic. It almost feels similar to dealing with a wild animal, oddly enough. One wrong move- and it could go to shit. 

“I need to know if you have a temp, Angel- can I touch your forehead?” He murmurs, sitting on your bedside. You don’t answer for a few moments, before shaking your head. 

“... n-no… no touching… please…” There’s a sense of panic to your words that has him gently shushing you. 

“Alright, it’s ok, pretty girl- no touching. I promise. Can I get a thermometer?” He needs to do something to help- he can’t just stand by and do nothing. You nod a little this time, and he exhales in relief. 

Using one of his feathers, he quickly retrieves one from his medicine cabinet. As soon as it’s in his hand, he gently holds it up to your mouth. “Open, sweetheart,” He murmurs, and you obey. You were… honestly so damn sweet. How could anyone want to hurt you like your ex so obviously did?

It beeps, and… unsurprisingly, you’re running a rather high fever. He purses his lips, and he’s pulling out his phone when you speak again. 

“... ‘m sorry… ‘s a lot, an’... thank you for checking on me…” You murmur, head shifting once more. You’re burning up, he doesn’t even need to touch you to be able to tell. 

“It’s ok… I’m just glad you’re here and not in some hotel room. We’ll getcha taken care of, yeah?” He coos softly, resisting the urge to brush your hair from your face. Thankfully, he knows someone that can help. He pulls out his phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

“Hey, Shouta..? I got a favor to ask..”

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.X

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: ///////

Lenght : 6k

Notes: This chapter is perhaps one of my favorites, after this, will miss only the last chapter (chapter 11) and then the series will be finished. Enjoy the plot twist and leave a comment to let me understand what the chapter was like

NA'VI WORDS: 'ITE: Daughter; SA'NU: Mother; YAWNETU: Darling; NGATSYIP: Little you; PARULSYIP: Children; TANHI: Star/Bioluminescent freckles; YAWNTUTSYìP: Darling

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate; REYIN'AL: Neteyam's future mate and daughter of Ninat

CLOTHES AND APPEARANCE: You ; Neteyam; Reyin'al

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10 ; 11 the end

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Then why did your heart beat so fast at the thought of his eyes in love and enchanted as he looked at yours?

The morning came too early for your taste, the sea breeze and the sun’s rays forced you to wake up in a bad mood. A long sigh came out of your mouth when you remembered that today you were going to go to the Omatikaya clan, already feeling the pains in your stomach that made you regret even waking up.

You got up off the carpet, hearing your mother’s voice calling you already impatiently, almost certainly as she loaded her personal belongings on her Ikran, yelling at your father to do the same. You took advantage of the fact that Ikeyni seemed focused on yelling at your father to take a few minutes to eat some fruit and sneak out, to go say goodbye to Uleyte.

"Where do you think you’re going? Come back here and start loading your ikran." Your mother’s voice prevented you from implementing your escape plan, you sighed heavily before nodding and doing as she had asked.

For the next twenty minutes you loaded your items on your Ikran, doing everything slowly and unwillingly, hoping your mother would change her mind and tell you to stay home, but she didn’t. She turned her back on you by continuing to do what she was doing, not wanting to know of any protest or request to stay. Once the Ikran were ready, Uleyte had come to greet you and wish you a safe journey, much like the whole village.

Your friend took you aside before you left, taking you away from where the elders and clan were wishing a safe journey under Eywa’s protection.

"Are you all right? Are you ready?" she asked, caressing your face with kindness, noticing your little hidden expression of sadness.

"No and no, I don’t want to see him but I can’t avoid him either. I have a plan, I’m going to be the mature person who doesn’t suffer for him anymore." Your voice was pretty convincing, even though your heart knew perfectly well that it would screw up all your plans.

"Are you sure? I already have some things packed, I’m ready to get on Yìmkxa and follow you. You still have time to ask me" The girl’s words made you laugh and hugged her.

"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine." You answered and then you saw Uleyte take your face and put her forehead on yours. " Really, I’ll be fine," you whispered and smiled.

"May Eywa protect you, I will pray for you. If that Sully makes you suffer, I swear to you, I’ll learn to ride an Ikran and I’ll smack his ass." she said dramatically, only to smile and look you in the eye, leaving on your hand a band woven with the colors of the clan and small green leaves.

"Thank you…" you said with a thread of voice, then hugged her again, holding her with affection and holding the jewel. Feeling a gust of wind wrapped around your back, smiling gently, thinking that that was Ney'nari joining the embrace, just like when you were younger.

You broke away from the hug, when your mother called you from her Ikran, making you sigh before saying goodbye to your friend and return to your ikran. You put on the sash before you climbed on Yìmkxa and followed your parents in flight, noticing at the end Tul'pey watching you from afar, then turning around and going. Yet another sigh came out of your mouth as you walked with your family to the clan that had now become your worst nightmare, even though you would have liked to see Tuk, Kiri and even Lo'ak again, even though he looked like a total idiot.

The hours in flight passed faster than you thought and you watched your clan get further and further away, welcoming the land of the Omatikaya with wonder, noticing how the forest was enchanting, totally different from how you could admire it from the coastal area. Your family landed on the Omatikaya ground when the eclipse was already disappearing into the sky leaving room for the night, immediately noticing how the main village was welcoming you with much warmth.

You felt uncomfortable to see all those Na'vi who greeted you holding their hands to their foreheads and then pointing at you, returning the gesture immediately after your parents, looking at the people in front of you who opened the way for you to pass. You noticed how your mother’s pace accelerated when she saw Neytiri coming at her, hugging her with affection, while Jake formally greeted your family. Next to them you saw Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, but not Neteyam, you didn’t know whether to be happy or not, but a small gap in your heart made itself felt.

Tuktirey was the first to greet you, hugging you affectionately, emulating your mothers, this made you smile as you returned the little girl’s embrace.

"Have you grown taller these past few months? Soon you will reach me" you said playfully, making her laugh as you ruffled the pigtails in her head, while Kiri simply greeted you formally as Lo'ak. In the glances of the two older brothers you could notice some note of displeasure, making you realize that they probably both knew how you were emotionally.

"And you’ve become even more beautiful! Even your clothes are so beautiful!" Tuk’s voice made you smile again, she was really a sweet and kind girl, who did not miss the opportunity to give voice to her innocent and sincere thoughts.

The three young Sullys helped your family settle in one of the empty tree houses, very different from your clan’s wooden huts. You thanked the three brothers and for a few hours you spoke, while they took you out of the house to be eaten throughout the clan as was tradition. You would lie in saying that you had not sought Neteyam’s eyes among people or his perfume, but in this case you did not find them, his person around you seemed so absent.

"He can’t get out of the hut, it’s a tradition that the future Olo'eyktan stays alone in the Tsahik's hut" Lo'ak whispered to you, noticing that you were looking for something with your eyes. You were already fighting back. "I know you were looking for him, don’t pretend" he continued, making you sigh heavily before eating a steamed teylu.

"I didn’t ask" you snorted while you were eating.

"But you were looking for an answer, I just gave it to you." You turned to him, like you wanted to ask for something else, but you shut up before talking, knowing there was no point in raising your hopes.

"Thank you, but I didn’t need it." You whispered and then noticed the look of understanding that Lo'ak turned to you.

Lo'ak and Kiri could see from your eyes the same feeling of despondency that Neteyam had in these months without you. They knew that you both wanted each other and also understood your duties as future leaders of your respective clans, what they did not understand was why your parents did not come against you or why they seemed so blind to your unhappiness. When Jake announced the impending mating between Neteyam and Reyin'al, the Sullys' older brother had been desperate to have more time, he wanted to keep his promise to you, returning to you after some time, apologizing. The only one to understand it immediately was Neytiri who tried to convince her husband to give him more time. Neteyam had spent the days before her forced mating praying and meditating, looking for Eywa to beg her to take you back to him, if only to make you feel his apology.

After a few minutes of talking to Kiri and Lo'ak, an elderly Na'vi approached you, making herself known as "grandmother" thanks to Tuk who had greeted her. She asked you to follow her and you nodded, moving from the ground to follow her to an open house, where on the ground there was a young Na'vi that you recognized for the smell.

You rolled your eyes and noticed that Na'vi was Reyin'al. The old woman sat you next to her and looked at you. "Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite, as the last earthly guide of the future Olo'eyktan you are called to speak with the Tsakarem Reyin'al te Sxeke Ninat'ite, to guide her spiritually and mentally towards the great rite"The old Tsahìk, Mo'at, dismissed without too much ceremony, closing the curtain behind her. Your heart stopped beating as your lungs threatened to let you choke.

"There is nothing I can say about Neteyam more than one of his brothers can." You said after collecting as much air and security to look strong.

"You’ve been with my mate for over a month, you can tell me something more about him." Her sour voice made you doubt that she was the daughter of the singer of the Omatikaya clan.

"Is an exceptional Na'vi. He excels at everything he does, but I think you know that better than I do, because you grew up with him" Your tone became just as acidic, while a sharp tension was created in the air. She looked at you thinning her eyes, just like Pandora’s predators did before attacking their prey.

"These are things I already know, my mate is great at everything. He also told me about his lessons… with you." Reyin'al spit out the last part with poison, as if the thought of Neteyam with you burned in her mouth.

She had noticed how Neteyam spoke of you, describing you as exceptional, an excellent guide, a kind friend and admirable Leader, she had never heard him say a bad word about you. She smelled the situation, but she knew that Na'vi men were having fun with many women before mating through Tsaheylu with one woman.

He still remembered that 'Ma Tanhì' said when you asked Neteyam who she was, the way Neteyam seemed to fall apart after seeing you leave, and then run after you despite her trying to hold him back. She hated the moment they left and he wouldn’t stop looking back, or how he had waited for you to return to his hut until the last. She knew that you were something more than a teacher to him, but she could not afford to raise charges against the future Olo'eykte of a clan as powerful as the Tayrangi, best known for their skills in riding the Banshees and hunting.

"Like I said, he’s a Na'vi who excels at everything he does. He was a very good student." Your voice was cold, while you supported his predatory gaze with your indifferent, you did not intimidate Reyin'al in the slightest and she noticed.

"Then it is a good thing that he chose wisely to anticipate the rite of Tsaheylu with me. It was months away, but after he came home two months ago, he decided to cut it short. I guess I should thank you." Her words stabbed you in the chest without even expecting it. It was difficult for you to keep your face as indifferent as possible, because inside you a new piece of your soul was torn.

"There’s nothing to thank. I didn’t do anything." Reyin'al smiled at you with disdain before answering you.

"But you have done a lot. Don’t think I don’t know." At these words you looked at her, feeling the bitterness in your throat, as if it were poison.

"What would you know?" You asked, as your eyes tapered like hers, the only difference being that your eyes were more endearing, and she reassembled.

"That surely in your clan he will have fun with some woman, it is normal for Omatikaya men to have moments of leisure away from home." Her tone was mean, just like her eyes. "Of course I gave him permission for all this, you know how the guys are, but then he came back to me. He was so happy to come home, come back in my arms. He could no longer stay away from me" you looked at her with indifference, as you derealized what she was saying. "After all, I am his mate, I’ll be the one to bind myself to him and his soul tomorrow. For this, I thank you. You guided my soulmate wisely."

You took a deep breath before nodding, accepting her thanks, knowing there was something unsaid. "I only did my duty." You hissed

"You are too modest. You guided my soulmate on the right path, he returned home healthy and stronger. It’s no small feat, though I’m sure he’s had his affairs with some skank. You know, Neteyam had always been in love with me and he suffered so much from my lack that the first day when he came home we…you know. He was so passionate and engaging" his tone getting increasingly mean to you, you knew she was doing it on purpose. But the thought of Neteyam doing the same thing to you hurt so much. " He also started calling me 'Tanhi', He says I shine like a star, that’s why he calls me so. It’s something he said when we were kids, I’m so glad he remembered."

The heart fell into your stomach, being dissolved in the acids that were contained in that place. Neteyam called that woman what he called you, it hurt you, your bleeding wounds now seemed to result in hemorrhage. "I’m glad." you hissed before you got up from the tappet to get away from her.

"Don’t you wish me a safe path with my soulmate Neteyam? it is tradition." She smiled mean while watching you get up from the ground. Reyin'al waited for the blessing, noticing how your eyes revealed a veil of pain you were trying to hide. "May Eywa protect your path." You said clenched teeth, noticed her proud smile and winning posture before heading out of the hut.

You took a long, deep breath to hold back what looked like tears of pain, starting to walk to the opposite point from which you had arrived. You hated how you were feeling, you knew that maybe it was a lie, but there was that worm in your head that told you it wasn’t a lie. Why did she have to lie? Surely Neteyam did not tell her that they had had intimate moments, so why not believe her? But at the same time your heart screamed that you had to believe in him

Your heart hurt again, as if small needles were slowly puncturing it, causing you to feel pain, but you could not scream from the pain due to large throat knots. Unknowingly you found yourself in front of a closed hut but that had an unquestionable perfume, he was there.

You would have liked to see him, but at the same time you preferred not to. After two months you felt so close to him and the only thing you could do was lay your hand on the tent for a few seconds, along with your forehead, poisoning yourself with his sweet scent that was better than you remembered. You would have wanted to come in and look at his eyes as you convinced yourself that he was nobody, but your heart was beating so hard feeling his heart close again. You sighed once again before turning around and leaving, not knowing that Neteyam had felt youe presence too, but when he got up to open the tent it was too late to see you, so he thought it was just another joke of his mind.

It hurt, everything in you hurt, but in those few seconds that his perfume collided against your nose, it made you feel at home and calm. You were wondering if he really lied to you, all those promises, kisses, intimate moments, was it really all just fun?

You tried to buy yourself back, you couldn’t afford to collapse again, not in a place where everyone knew you like the next Tayrangi Olo'eykte, you would have been weak. And that’s how you swallowed your feelings, pulling the moments with Neteyam out of your mind and torturing yourself with Reyin'al’s words, it was good to know now, it would have been enough to convince you of the woman’s words and your heart would not have made a beat thinking of that boy who was not yours.

It took you some time before you found the right road to the house where you were staying with your parents, and when you found it you rushed in with the intention of going to sleep. Your mother told you a few things, but you ignored her words to keep your mind empty, nodding as if you were consenting to everything she said, then taking your things and going to sleep in those strange capsules that were the clan’s bed.

You prayed to Eywa to take away the pain, to strengthen you for the next day, and to protect your heart if you saw Neteyam, so as not to fall for him again. You closed your eyes, unknowingly seeking comfort in the necklace around your neck, forgetting that some threads are twisted belonged to Neteyam, feeling strangely better before falling asleep.

The day greeted you in a way too tortuous for you, the air was so intrinsic of happiness around you, hearing some Na'vi preparing the village for the big event. You could understand their joy, after all the eldest son of Olo'eyktan was going to take his place, and lead the clan in a new era of prosperity and peace under the gentle hand of the Great Mother.

You opened your eyes, cursing yourself for waking up one more time, hoping that for some strange reason the capsule would fall, but unfortunately for you it wasn’t.

You climbed to the platform where there were already many Na'vi coming and going with some decorative objects or delicacies for the banquet that would take place immediately after the main event. Formal and ceremonial clothes adorned the slender bodies of the tribe, and guests from other clans, reminding you that you too should have prepared to honor the new couple who would be your clan’s ally, but there was no joy in your heart, only bitterness and sadness. These feelings increased when you noticed Reyin'al coming out of Ninat’s tent, dressed in a charming manner that almost looked like Eywa's daughter. The long black braids were adorned with jewels typical of the Omatikaya, with some feathers that you recognized as those of Neteyam and his family, her face was radiant and bold as she walked through the village to return to her tent, drawing everyone’s attention and eyes on her. You envied her then.

Lucky for you your mother Ikeyni found you with a speed and ease that reminded you why she was recognized as a great hunter and observer, she took you from her arm and then dragged you to the house where you were staying, to get ready. She wasted no time and arranged your braids, picking them up slightly and putting some items representing the Tayrangi clan before sending you to change with your dissent.

"Mother, the ceremony will begin later. Don’t rush me, nobody’s waiting for me" You snorted while wearing ceremonial clothes that strangely were so complicated and full of draperies. They remembered the nets your clan used to fish, while the loincloth cloth was draped in such a way as to simulate the waves, but thanks to the light breeze it seemed to emulate something vaguely like the wind.

"Ma 'ite, of course they are waiting for you. I told you about it yesterday, Mo'at asked that the teacher of Neteyam prepare him with tribal painting as a last step lesson, from student to Olo'eyktan. You said 'yes', so they are waiting for you now" Hearing your mother’s words you opened your eyes wide and walked out of the corner where you were changing.

"Me what? No. Why me? II have not accepted anything. And then, even dad taught and trained Neteyam, why does he not do it?" Your voice revealed a slight panic and exasperation. You couldn’t believe the one time you didn’t listen to your mother, she asked you to do this. It felt like Eywa was starting to play with you again, or your sister was trying to help you again, and at that moment you remembered the speech he gave to her two months earlier.

"Because I asked you, if you had told me 'no', I would have asked Tsentey. But you said yes, and I told Mo'at and the Sully family" She said, and then she smiled at you in those clothes. "You already look like the Olo'eykte Tayrangi. Today will be your time to be the face of the clan" Her sweet voice made you breathe heavily.

You didn’t feel like making a fuss and going against your own word, if you had retreated back, your word would never have been taken seriously by anyone. You looked at your mother’s eyes, full of pride as she saw you wearing those clothes that fully represented your clan and your status.

"Your sister sewed this dress a long time ago, she said she would give it to you on the day of your social debut as the future Tsahik, as she said that you would be the spiritual voice of the clan…now you wear it to represent the Tayrangi as the future Olo'eykte and Tsakarem" as if the memory of Ney'nari were hurting her, in fact she never spoke of her.

"Me? Tsahik? I was so rebellious and unmanageable, how could she think I would be a good spiritual guide?" You said laughing bitterly at the memory. Ironic how even your clothes reminded you of your sister, it seemed like she was doing everything to remind you of that Tsaheylu argument.

"You were, but she said that your soul was deeply connected to Eywa, even if you didn’t participate in the rites, you ran into the forest or the sea and connected to the native animals. She convinced me that you would become a great Tsahik, but look at you here… My little girl will be Olo'eykte" She caressed your face gently, and glimpsed in your eyes a bit of the spiritual essence of Ney'nari, making her smile. "Now go, you’re already late and I still have to get ready." she said before she left you. You knew she was about to cry over Ney'nari’s memories and you left her alone, knowing she didn’t like to be seen in moments of fragility like that.

The dress felt like it was giving you warmth and strength, so you thought your request last night had been answered this way, 'a protection for the heart if I had seen Neteyam'. Now you were going to see it and you were squeezing into those fabrics that let you wear your sister’s warm embrace.

When you arrived at the Sullys' house, Neytiri greeted you with a kind hug, and then formally greeted you. She was charming, her clothes worthy of a Tsakarem, colorful and refined, while her body presented some paint marks that recalled the colors of the Omatikaya clan.

"Ma yawntutsyìp, you are wonderful. It seems that you have already taken your mother’s place" Neytiri’s gentle hands caressed your face, touch and sweet and warm.

"You are wonderful too, ma Tsakarem," you laughed slightly, noticing how her gaze fell on yours, reminding you that she wanted to be called by her name. "Ma Neytiri" this time she smiled, then called Tuktirey.

The little girl showed up with a deep bowl that contained white paint, mother and daughter accompanied you to Neteyam who was a bundle of nerves inside his tent. He stood with his back as his hands leaned on what appeared to be a table or shelf with some clothes on it that he should wear. Your hands trembled, just to see him from behind was taking your breath away

"Ma'itan, it’s time to get ready…" Neytiri politely said, as she had Tuk put the bowl on one of the furniture that were there, and then sent her to Jake to get ready. Neteyam turned around, ready to respond negatively to his mother, but remained silent when he saw you, enchanted.

Time seemed to slow, and your looks met, remaining enchanted by each other, it seemed like a lifetime ago since you saw those eyes for the last time. His eyes held a veil of sadness but there was something that made you realize that he was happy to see you but also sorry for something. Neytiri smiled as you reacted in that way, then quietly disappeared, leaving you two alone.

A thrill of excitement passed through your body. Your heart was beating faster and faster, as the butterflies in your stomach took flight creating a strange dance. You had the feeling that everything around you was fading, focusing only on him. As if the rest of Pandora is dissolving, leaving you two alone in an aura of magic and old promises.

The words got lost in your throat as you tried to breathe, to remember how to move and walk. Your senses are sharp, every detail of his face, his way of looking at you and moving seemed to have been eternally etched in your memory. His presence resonates within you, a sweet melody that makes every fiber of your being vibrate.

Your legs trembled as you approached him slowly, then carried a hand on your forehead and pointed out to greet him formally; the words intertwined in your mind as you tried to follow the plan you had studied so as not to fall back into his sweet trap.

"Sit down…" you whispered as you took the bowl that Tuk had left. Neteyam sat down and looked at you with so much adoration and nostalgia that for a second you almost thought that everything was back to the way it was. You felt a sense of déjà-vu as you sat in front of him, reminding you of the first time they had forced you to draw on his body for that distant holiday.

"You’re gorgeous…" Neteyam whispered in love, voicing his thoughts, watching you shuffle the paint inside the bowl with your fingers. At that moment all your defenses were dissolved, leaving room for a sense of vulnerability that overwhelmed you brutally. You felt like he opened a door in your heart, allowing all emotions to flow without restriction.

"Your partner is gorgeous." Your tone was slightly sad as you took the paint to begin the tribal blessing designs. The chemistry between you was palpable, and the mere encounter of looks seems to encompass a universe of meanings, which led you to look away from his cursed eyes.

"It doesn’t matter… It’s not her I’m looking at" he said without looking away from your face, while you drew the first line on his chest, feeling your fingers burning on him. At his words, you raised your eyes to meet his, for a moment you thought that nothing had changed and that you were still the same people who until a few months ago were kissing secretly in a shed, exchanging promises and talking about the future.

"You’ll see her soon, she’s very beautiful today, I saw her…" Your voice was nostalgic, you missed him so much. But talking about her was like eating a great dish, knowing it’d been poisoned.

"How are you?" he asked gently, changing the subject. His tone of voice was also evident in his nostalgia. He thought he was dreaming and that this was just a beautiful dream, shuddering at every touch accompanied by paint.

"Well, I'm fine… I’m preparing to become Olo'eykte and Tsahik… I’ll mate with Tul pey in four moons…" Your fingers did not stop working lines on his chest and shoulders, noticing with the corner of your eye his sad expression.

"Four moons…" he whispered, with disbelief and sadness "I-I’m glad you’re fine, ma Tanhi," you raised your face to hear that nickname you missed so much. Your eyes moved from his lips to his eyes, feeling that urge to kiss him and feel him again as yours.

"what about you? How are you?" Your voice was dying in your throat, you were kind of hoping he was sick today, just because he was gonna mate with Reyin'al.

"Nervous, I never thought I’d be here, on a day like this, to mate a woman I don’t feel like my own" he laughed nervously. "…It’s just… weird, that’s all."

You smiled softly at him, albeit with a slight tone of sadness, understanding where he was going. Your eyes passed through his entire body, following your fingers that traced lines and points on his torso and neck.

"Everything will be all right, the Great Mother looks up at you and protects you, ma 'Teyam" his face came up to yours and you felt his heart pounding wildly. Neteyam’s heart was beating faster and faster, He missed you so much, and he missed hearing you call him that.

"I would like the Great Mother to watch over me to follow this path with another woman." He sighed as his eyes pointed to your lips, "You… you don’t know how much I wanted to tell you before… That I’m sorry, for everything, Ma Tanhi. I-I swear. I should have told you about her, I was an skxawng"

A wave of heat enveloped you at those words, as your stomach filled with frantic butterflies dancing in a disorganized manner. Every breath became deeper and more difficult, as if just looking at him left you breathless. Your cheeks faded with a slight blush, while your thoughts falter between enthusiasm and uncertainty. A sweet and sudden feeling of lightness pervaded you, as if the chains of worry were melting.

The look you exchanged was full of contrasting emotions: passion and desire are intertwined with nostalgia and sadness of lost time. The air charged with an electrical voltage, a palpable energy that enveloped both of us after all that time. You could feel the presence of each other, the heat emanating from your bodies, as if there was an irresistible call that united you two. Your eyes attract like magnets, you peer each other, looking for clues and signs that confirm that everything you have shared in the past can still exist.

Each line of your faces bears the marks of the experiences you had experienced, but the sparks in your eyes reveal that the feelings you felt were still alive and present. The romantic tension and the weight of time spent were felt. Doubts and fears crept into your heart, like a cold wind caressing the flames. Old pains and past disappointments are scars that cannot be ignored. And so, in the midst of this dance of desire, you stood there, staring at his lips intensely, breathing suspended, while he did the same.

"I have to finish…" You said to then lay clean fingers on his chest, making him sit normally, while you continued to create drawings.

He looked at you enchanted, hoping that you understood how much he still craved you, not only carnally, he wanted all of you.

Your fingers began to draw lines and curves on his face, trying to resist the temptation to still taste his lips, and it was difficult because of his strong and sweet scent, but also because of the way his eyes burned with love on you.

The fear of suffering again, of putting at risk what was rebuilt after the separation, holds back your deepest instincts, you couldn’t give in right now.

"I missed you, ma Tanhi. Every night, every day, I missed you so much." He whispered, noticing the little distance between you, the tension became heavier and harder for both of you.

"Neteyam… you are going to make Tsaheylu with Reyin'al…" your fingers passed over his lips, making the last lines of the tribal blessing design.

"I don’t want Reyin'al" he said, brushing your fingers with his hand, smearing himself with paint while he couldn’t look away from you.

Before you could answer, Mo'at entered the room, and you instinctively walked away not to raise any suspicions.

"ma parultysip, are you finished?" asked old Tsakik, looking at you, and then smiling when you nodded.

"Yes, ma Tsahik." You stood up from the ground without looking at Neteyam, as you approached Tsahik to greet her formally. The woman puts a hand on your shoulder and dismisses you. For a second, before you left, you turned and your eyes met those of Neteyam who did not miss a single movement of yours.

A whirlwind of emotions erupted within you as memories of past love re-emerge in your mind. A mixture of happiness, excitement, and fear spreads through your body, making it difficult to control the visceral reactions that overwhelmed you. You sighed thinking how stupid you were, it was so clear you wanted him and you didn’t know if Neteyam really wanted you or was just playing.

Acquitted in your thoughts you clashed with Kiri, who held you from your arms to keep you from falling. "Hey. Y/n, but where’s your mind?" she asked, looking at you, checking if you were okay.

"Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just distracted." You said you’d pull yourself together and look at the girls in front of you.

"The ceremony starts soon, I know you don’t want to… but we have to go, it’s the other way. Follow me" Kiri took your hand and led you to the opposite side of the village, meeting again Neteyam who was to go with Mo'at from the opposite side to yours, he was dressed in traditional clothes that the Olo'eyktan wore before being recognized as such. You passed by, but your hands searched silently, stretching some fingers, as if they were attracted by a magnetic force, barely touched each other. You two felt the contact, light but full of meaning, that triggers electric shocks along the skin. It is as if an inner fire is burning within you, fueled by the memories of the past and the awareness that this moment could be the beginning of something new. And then let you go, you drag by Kiri and him to his grandmother.

When you arrived at the sacred place where all the clan and guests had already gathered, you sat in the second row, along with Kiri and Lo'ak, already seeing Reyin'al standing in front of the Tree of Souls. She looked at you defiantly, with the same eyes of those who were winning both the war and the battle, seeing you so close to the tree made her happy, because you would see that Neteyam had chosen her.

When Neteyam reached her you felt a squeeze in your heart and Lo'ak offered you his hand to shake if you needed it, remaining silent and respecting your pain. Every word of the Tsaheylu rite stabbed you in the heart, and with it you shook Lo'ak’s hand ever stronger.

"Oel ngati kameye, ma Neteyam," Reyin'al said as she took her braid very theatrically, glancing at you to make sure you saw it.

Neteyam remained silent for a few seconds, feeling the pressure on him and the look of Jake burning on his skin, hoping that he would do nothing foolish, while Neytiri hoped that her baby would become a man and follow his heart.

Neytiri understood that you and Neteyam had something similar to what she and Jake had had, she understood that since she first saw you together. In fact, she sent Lo'ak instead of Tsutey to check where you and Neteyam ended up that night in the shed.

A mother feels and understands her children even before they understand each other, so in the months when he had returned home, she did everything to help him and encourage him to follow his heart. After all, she was the one who raised her kids by telling them about her love story with Jake Sully.

Neytiri was shaking Jake’s hand while mentally encouraging his first son to make the right choice, and was slightly disappointed when she saw Neteyam take his braid. She was waiting for him to put it back, and then she saw you on the other side. You shook Lo'ak’s hand, grieving, while Kiri gently scratched your back.

Seen from the outside, no one would ever suspect that you were suffering, after all you were rigid and composed, but those little details didn’t escape her.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

This is officially the penultimate chapter, it tears my heart. Anyway, I’m trying not to hate Reyin'al, but I can’t </3

-Mel

(I’m in love with this picture, okay? Okay.)

[niallsgoldhoop]

Chapter Seven

Wren

“I saw the changes you made to the list.”

Using the spoon in my hand, I scoop up a piece of chocolate cake from the plate that sits between us before eating the bite of decadent dessert.

Niall watches me, his deep blue eyes dropping down to my lips for just a moment. “You’ve got— Right there.”

Heat floods my cheeks as I wipe at the corner of my mouth hoping to get the remnant of chocolate off my face. Only when I look back across the table, he only shakes his head with his perfect lips drawn in a soft smile.

“Here.” Leaning over, my breath catches in my throat when Niall drags his thumb just under my bottom lip, the moment so small yet leaving a trail of fire across my skin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

As he sits back in his chair, my eyes follow his movement as he lifts his finger to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet treat. A low, satisfied hum falls from the back of his throat for only a moment before reaching for his own spoon from our shared dessert.

“Tastes divine, don’t you think?” Those eyes sparkle under the lights.

Clearing my throat and shaking my head, anything to get myself out of the spell I’ve been put under, I nod. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Niall’s focus goes to the plate in front of us which gives me the chance to take him in. Wearing the short sleeve pink shirt, the gold of the thin chain around his neck glitters against the low lights— just like the two gold hoops through his ears.

When he cuts a piece of the cake off, even the simple movement showcases the ripple of the vein in his forearm under his skin.

Niall Horan really is… Yeah.

I almost didn’t even show up tonight.

The note left in my desk had his messy scrawl on it telling me when and where to meet him. It was right on top of my desk along with the list of rules that I’d printed off for him.

Only now there were doodles and that same messy scrawl scratched along the edges along with a handwritten list of his own rules along the bottom.

As ridiculous as they seemed, not to mention his changes, there was no way I was going to argue with them.

Niall didn’t have to be tied to me for the next few months to trick my family into thinking I was in a happy relationship. We barely even knew each other other than what google told me about him and what he could probably find out from my social media if he even cared to look at it.

My sister had already planned for me to have a plus one in a million different circumstances so the thought of having to tell her that my plans changed made me nauseous.

If anything it would send Jenna into a tailspin.

Then everything would be my fault, just like it always is.

“I figured those changes wouldn’t be so bad.” Raising his eyebrow at me, Niall drags his spoon through the chocolate on the plate. “Besides if we are going to make this believable— we’re going to have to put in actual effort.”

My entire life I’ve hated being wrong and right now is no exception.

“Fine.” Crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair, I level my gaze with his. “We can abide by the amended rules but no other changes.”

“So, girlfriend—“ His smile makes me want to punch him. “Tell me every detail I need to know about you.”

Blue eyes pour into mine as I squirm in my seat, hating the attention. “There’s nothing to know really.”

“I think you’re wrong.” He smiles. “I think there are endless things you could tell me about yourself and I wouldn’t get tired of learning.”

Rolling my eyes, I look down at my glass of water. “You’re just saying that because you have to say that.”

“Wren, look at me.”

The low timbre of his voice draws my eyes back to his, a softness I’ve never seen there, just for me.

“I promise you when I say that just because we decided to do this as a team— It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to know you.” Niall runs his hand through his dark hair. “You haven’t told me the whole story of your life and your family, and that’s okay. But I want to be here for you, I want to know you.”

Sincerity drips off his words like a sweet honey in the summer, something that feels so foreign to me.

It feels like a lifetime I’ve spent as the black sheep and the loner, the person who doesn’t mind being on the sidelines.

Watching people step around me like I was invisible felt fine until it had me crying in the closet at work.

I was still fine.

I was still strong.

But as I open up a little bit and start talking to Niall, the way he looks at me like his favorite book of poetry stirs up an emotion I can’t nail down, one I’ve never felt before.

So for what feels like the first time in a long time, I decided that letting someone in might not be all bad.

It might just be my favorite thing yet.

_________

“You did so good!”

Wiping the sweat from across my forehead, I look at Marcy like she has two extra heads and at least twelve arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My breath is still ragged from the kickboxing class she managed to talk me into. “I need a breathing treatment and a dozen margaritas.”

Stretching her arms above her head, she looks perfectly poised. “I can get down with the margaritas for sure.”

Marcy was my best friend.

Really, my only friend.

My circle was small and I was okay with that.

We met in college and have been nearly inseparable ever since.

While I got my degree in marketing, she got hers in teaching. The two of us couldn’t be any more different but at the same time that’s why our friendship works the way it does.

We just click.

“Or ice cream. I could go for some ice cream.” With my hands on my hips, I take a deep breath.

Macy points at me. “Sold to the brunette.”

Reaching out, I laugh as I push her hand away before we make our way to the locker room of the gym to grab my stuff.

Bernie’s is only a block away and with the warmer weather hanging one for just a little while longer, we decide to walk and enjoy the breeze over our skin. Once I’ve got my waffle cone stuffed with ice cream and we sit at a bistro table outside, only then does everything seem right in the world.

With everything going on with Jenna and the wedding we haven’t been able to see each other very much.

If at all.

“So how is everything going with the evil sister?” Taking a bite out of her chocolate ice cream, her eyes meet mine. “Have you told her to go tuck herself yet?”

I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips as I shake my head. “No, but I wish.”

“Seriously like, not only are you dealing with her but Lucas too? He’s even worse if that was possible.” She mutters.

“I don’t know.” Pushing a chunk of cookie dough around on the end of my spoon, I blow out a breath. “Now that I see him for what he’s worth, it feels like him and Jenna make the perfect couple.”

“You should take me as a date to the wedding.” Pointing her spoon towards herself, Macy smiles. “I’ll get wasted and throw up in her dress for you.”

Looking down into my bowl, I can’t help but bite in the inside of my lip. “Actually, I kind of have a date.”

“What?” Sitting up and putting her ice cream down, Macy stares at me. “Wren… What are you not telling me?”

“So maybe my boss found me crying in a closet and somehow saved me from utter humiliation and we are sort of fake dating until everything is over.” Putting my cup next to hers, I bury my face in my hands. “It’s literally a whole fucking thing. With rules, Mace! Rules!”

“Oh my god.” Peeking through my fingers, her face is one of total shock. “Are you talking about like, Rory? The guy who runs everything?”

“No.” I groan. “It’s not.”

“If it’s not him then— Holy fucking shit, Wren.” Realization dawns on her. “Niall Horan? The Niall Horan?! You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“That’s the one.” I squeak.

She squeals as she reaches across the table and playfully shoves my shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me with this?! Wren, he’s like— Have you seen him?”

“I have, a few times.” Laughing, I finish off my ice cream. “It’s not a big deal. Everything is strictly for the wedding stuff and I have to go to a few work events with him. No feelings, no attachments.”

“Oh this is going to be so good.” Crossing her arms a sly smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

A crease cuts between my brows as I stack our trash together. “What?”

“Nothing.” Macy stands up with me as we walk to the trash and then start our trek back to our cars. “I’m just writing my speech in my head for when I have to speak at your wedding.”

“Stop!” I laugh. “It’s not like that. Yeah, Niall is— He’s— Okay, he’s attractive and incredibly nice… But it’s not going to go anywhere. It can’t.”

Rolling her eyes, she bumps my shoulder. “May I ask why?”

“I don’t know— It just can’t. He’s just helping me out and trust me, he wouldn’t ever actually be into me.” I kick a pebble along the sidewalk. “Niall is a whole famous golfer who owns the place where I work— Not just like he’s another coworker. Besides, who would actually want to try and date the same girl who spilled an entire jar of pickles on them?”

Reaching into her bag and unlocking her car, Macy stands behind the open driver's side as she looks at me. “Wren, literally anyone would be crazy to not fall for you. I know that you feel like it’s not possible that someone would find you perfect— But you are wrong and I’ll be here to tell you ‘I told you so’ as many times as you want when you realize that.”

“Stop being nice.” I say, opening my own door. “I’m leaving before you get too nice. Text me when you get home?”

Climbing into her car, she calls out an ‘I love you’. “Yes, mother.”

Driving home, her words bounce around in my head and even after I’ve taken a shower and packed my lunch for work, they are still playing on repeat.

So much so that I pull out my phone and open the text thread with Niall’s name at the top, his last text sitting at the bottom without an answer from me.

Away on a business trip, it took me by surprise when the picture came in yesterday, the pinks and oranges of a sunset along with a sandwich sat on the table in front of him.

A reminder of how he found me not that long ago when I needed an escape.

I focus on the words under the picture, the ones that I’ve tried to figure out a response to at least a million times.

Niall

The sandwich just doesn’t taste the same without someone else here.

Just like every other time I’ve tried, I type out a response only to delete it and back out of the messages.

I couldn’t let myself get invested.

I wouldn’t let myself get invested.

—————

eeeeeep !!!!!

-a 🍀

[c6jpg]

natlan 5.0 brain dump

i did this in a lot of small chunks so i already forgot all of my detailed thoughts so i'm gonna try to keep it brief

general environment/exploration:

first off music and scenery is 💯💯💯

i particularly like how much wildlife there is and i really love the saurian gameplay (for me its hydro > dendro >>>> geo)

i feel so awful every time i accidentally kill a capybara they should be immune like the rhinos

it makes sense that there isn't "one huge city" like the other nations since natlan is composed of tribes, and each tribe looks like it gets a decent amount of attention, but i was still kind of disappointed by how small the stadium of the sacred flame feels in comparison for being the "main" area. i feel like they could have done a lot more with it

archon quest:

tldr; it was... not good? or at least very underwhelming? especially coming off fontaine/sumeru which had incredibly strong opening acts

act 1 was particularly like. whatever. felt more like a kachina story quest that rolled right into a mualani (but npc-focused) story quest

like for how important the pilgrimage is it just felt so. underwhelming and anticlimatic. yes yes i know kachina is precious and everyone loves her but i wish we spent less time doing kachina support group and focused more on the pilgrimage itself like can we at LEAST see some of the other playable characters participating instead of just hearing about it in passing

literally was soooooooooo fucking annoyed with the entire atea plotline. i wrote a whole rant in my first write up but basically that entire arc only existed so that they could bring back the purification plot device which WE HAVEN'T SEEN SINCE MONDSTADT

i was just incredibly annoyed with how that was all handled lol atea is also just such a non-character how am i supposed to care about her. she didn't even die in the end!!!

also mualani's tribe's whole thing being super stereotypical hawaiian tourism left a really bad taste in my mouth i wanted to get out of there as fast as possible

act 2 was weird because like. i felt like they were saying a lot of things that were like "this is a serious national crisis" but it didn't... feel that way? and a lot of the lore itself was pretty glossed over

i think a problem with the natlan story is that you need the first acts to set up the stakes but we just spent the first act gallivanting around with kachina/mualani and then when they DID get to the "main problem" in act 2 it just info dumped so hard to the point that i. didn't care?

pacing in general just felt all over the place

the only investment they gave us is through caring about kachina and i guess hating the abyss/not wanting a nation to be destroyed on principle but idk. especially with the "nah we gotta wait for the last 2 heroes first" the stakes are Not there for me

reminded me of when nahida was like "yeah i needed you to figure this out for yourself bc if i told you directly your head would explode." but at least that one was fun/could just chalk it up to nahida being cheeky and didn't like. prolong the plot for too long

SHOW US DON'T TELL US DAMN IT. i might just have recency bias but i genuinely feel like natlan might be one of the worst cases of telling and not showing as far as archon quests are concerned

also capitano's appearance felt so random LMAO he really showed up, said some cryptic shit, got his ass beat, and then left. at least the cutscene was cool?

chasca girl i'm shaking crying throwing up somebody get that girl a full pair of pants and brown contacts PLEASE

i find it interesting how detailed/fleshed out chuychu (chasca's sister) is, both in terms of design and personality/character. it kind of felt like they originally intended for her to be playable but turned her into an NPC instead

also citlali is definitely some kind of faruzan situation where she's old but young looking

night kingdom was cool i guess nothing really to say here. i am very interested in the wayob lore though especially in regards to how it ties into the rest of teyvat/why natlan has particularly weak leylines

i feel like mavuika's younger sister might also become relevant in the future... in a bad way. like the insistence to not being forgotten/seeing mavuika again, the fact that mavuika doesn't "really" know what happened to her. also she also got a pretty unique npc model. or maybe she won't be brought up ever again idk

in general that whole reminiscence sequence with mavuika was like. fine but again you just info dumped the shit out of me i have no emotional attachment to feel anything about whats going on right now???

also we all know that was fucking ororon at the end with capitano like lmao come on. but im willing to bet both he + chasca are the last two heros bc like. who tf else do we have left LMAOOO

capitano was supposed to be cool but he's just giving goofy villain right now. sorry capitano fans they flopped so hard with him in this act