#to see the sky I need to be IN the sky I need to have that VIEW and the cold and everything!!!! gRGGHGgg... And I will do that the entire

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren . 

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

[poguehearted77]

Oh, Baby!

Summary-> Today is Rafe's birthday and you're determined to throw him the best surprise party before the baby comes in a few days.

☆Some more content from the baby steps couple☆

It was a warm summer night, the kind where the air hummed softly with the songs of crickets and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. The streets were quiet as you and Rafe drove home, the headlights illuminating the road ahead. The stars sparkled in the clear sky above, but they paled in comparison to the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

“I just wish you’d checked to see that the restaurant had space before we came all the way here,” Rafe sighed, his grip firm on the wheel. He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly.

You bit your lip, hiding a smile. You’d already called the restaurant weeks ago and knew they were fully booked. That was the whole point. You needed an excuse to get Rafe dressed up in the nicest clothes the two of you could find without him getting suspicious. It was his birthday, after all, and you wanted tonight to be perfect.

"It was supposed to be one of our final nights together with just the two of us," you murmured, playing your part with feigned disappointment. Your hand rested on the swell of your nine-months-pregnant belly.

The truth was, you’d been planning this for the past month—tirelessly working around Rafe’s attentive nature to keep it a secret. He knew you too well, always noticing the slightest change in your demeanour, and you had to put on the performance of your life.

If he’d caught wind of what you were up to, he’d have put a stop to it immediately. Rafe would’ve thrown a fit if he knew you were doing all this while so close to your due date.

When the two of you finally pulled into the driveway of your generously sized home, Rafe parked the car and came around to your side to help you out, as always. He offered his hand, his protectiveness shining through, and you accepted with a grateful smile.

He makes a teasing remark about your slight waddle, "She's comin' any day now isn't she?" You sigh, "I hope so, but she seems to be getting comfortable." Your eyes glimmer as you watch Rafe unlock the front door. But as soon as the door opened, the quiet night erupted into shouts of “Surprise!”

Rafe’s jaw dropped slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you saw genuine shock in his eyes. The foyer was filled with friends and family, grinning and clapping, balloons crowding the ceiling.

Rafe blinked, then broke into a wide grin, pointing at you. “I knew you were up to something,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, his other hand gently resting over your baby bump. “Happy birthday,” you whispered, feeling his lips press to your temple in gratitude.

You led everyone through the house to the backyard, and that’s when the real surprise hit. The backyard was transformed into a magical wonderland of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, long tables set with glowing candles, and cozy seating arranged perfectly under the night sky. It was breathtaking.

Rafe took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping across the setup, a mix of awe and emotion crossing his face. “Wow,” he said softly, looking down at you before his expression morphed into one of concern. “Please tell me you didn't set this up, Y/n.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Calm down, I made John B and Topper do it,” you admitted with a cheeky grin. Rafe let out a short laugh, his brows raising. “John B and Topper? Together? Without killing each other?”

“Barely,” you teased. “I supervised, don’t worry.”

He was about to respond when a small voice broke through the chatter. “Happy birthday, Uncle Rafe!”

A little whirlwind of blonde curls and bright eyes ran toward him—it was three-year-old JJ in a white frilly dress. Rafe crouched down and scooped her up with ease, laughing as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said, tossing her gently in the air.

As you watched him, surrounded by loved ones, holding little JJ close, and smiling brighter than you’d seen in a while, you felt the weight of your efforts melt away. It was all worth it. This was a night you’d both remember forever.

Maybe you'd be lucky to erase the forming memory of the radiating pain that coursed through your abdomen. You found yourself fisting the hand towels in the guest bathroom after your bladder incontinence had caught up to you during the middle of Rafe's speech.

God, what did you eat today? Your stomach had been hurting ever since you came back from the restaurant even though you never ate there. Sometimes you get a break, other times there's a sharp reminder shooting through you. Of course, you considered the possibility of contractions but you denied it.

There was no way in hell you were letting this baby come out on Rafe's birthday.

There's a knock on the door. "Just a second--!" Your voice is hoarse, the words coming out through clenched teeth. "Y/n? It's Sarah." With a deep breath, you reach for the door, revealing the pleasant face of your sister-in-law.

"Is everything okay? Rafe is looking for you." You nod, "Yep, everything's--" Another one. Your jaw clenches and your eyes close, doing your best to focus on the conversation at hand. By the time your eyes opened, Sarah was sliding past you into the bathroom.

"Why's the floor all wet.." Her eyes slowly trail from the wet tiles back up to you where you were still gripping the towel in your right palm. Oblivious to the gears grinding in her mind. "Oh shit." You shake your head over and over, immediately shutting the door on you both.

"Sarah, No. No! You can't tell anyone. It's Rafe's birthday." She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her brows furrowed, "Are you joking? You're in labour! You have to tell him and you have to get to the hospital like now."

"No, Please! Just give me 20 minutes, then I'll go." She couldn't believe she was actually considering it but the sheer look of desperation in your eyes convinced her.

"Fine, and not one second more or I'll deliver your baby myself." She threatens with a smile but she's a Cameron, she means every word. "I love you!" You whistle as you head upstairs to change into a different dress and meet everyone back outside.

"Baby, where did you go for so long? What's with the outfit change?" Your eyes are briefly distracted by the servers gracefully floating around the yard with the requested entrées. "O-oh, I started to feel a little hot in the other one--so," There's a contraction, not as bad as some of the others but you're able to suppress it and blame it on thirst.

"Here," He gets you a glass of water and helps you into your chair on the side of his at the head of the table. As if you'd forgotten the itinerary of the party you planned yourself, you're almost startled when the slide show of nearly all the images you could find of Rafe throughout the years is displayed on the projector.

He turns in his seat to glance at you, "You did not," It was all too much for him. You're the woman of his dreams, going above and beyond to show him how much he means to you and this was just a small example of proof.

The slideshow is touching, cute, and funny when the images of baby Rafe covered in pasta pop up. Once it's over John B suggests you say a few words. Kelce and his childish antics start a chant "Speech! Speech! Speech!" Your eyes roll, and with a minor struggle, you rise to your feet, Rafe standing beside you.

"Thank you all for coming, and helping me celebrate Rafe's 25th--" Oh boy, this was a big one, your mouth falls open in a silent cry and your right hand claws into the meat of Rafe's upper arm, it's so tight that he leans into it and his face contorts with discomfort and worry.

The electronic music is still playing softly in the background as all eyes are on you. "Y/n, Y/n, Are you--" Your lip is caught between your teeth bearing down with the pain, nodding aggressively. "We're having the baby!?" He panics but a huge smile is etched onto his features. "We're having the baby." You confirm and he hugs you.

The table is filled with cheers and glasses clinking together. "Go! Go!" Sarah shouts, and you both spring into action. At least Rafe does, he nearly leaves you behind with all the nerves running through his system.

Helping you back inside the house before he runs up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time, quickly coming down with the baby bag you'd both prepared weeks ago.

The next hour is a blur, one second you're standing in your living room waiting for Rafe to bring down your things, and suddenly you're in a backless hospital gown being strapped into the hospital bed, hooked up like a computer.

There are IVs, heart monitors, and everything else you could identify from your binge sessions of Grey's Anatomy.

“Mrs. Cameron?” A voice cut through the haze as the door opened. The doctor entered, glancing down at the clipboard in her hands. Her calm expression faltered as she scanned the notes. “Oh, wow,” she muttered under her breath before looking up at you.

“Is... is everything okay?” you asked nervously, gripping the bed’s railing as you shot a glance at Rafe, who was perched anxiously at your bedside.

“Everything’s fine,” the doctor assured you quickly, though her tone carried a note of disbelief. “But I have to say—I’m a little shocked at how far along you are.”

Your stomach dropped. “Far along? What do you mean?”

“You’re already at nine centimetres,” the doctor explained, flipping another page on her clipboard. “You’re practically ready to push.” That is not what you wanted to hear.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait—nine? That fast? But I barely knew I was in labour until a few hours ago!” Rafe glances at you in agreement before doing a double take. "A few hours? I thought you just found out at dinner?"

"I knew since we left the restaurant." You coyly admit, and his eyes practically bulge from their sockets. "That was hours ago! Why didn't you tell me?" He seemed almost hurt but his concern overtook it.

"Because it's your birthday, I didn't want the baby to steal your day." He leans up, his gaze softening at your words. "Oh baby, I'd be so lucky to share my birthday with her." His words fall on deaf ears and you pout, eyes glancing at the clock.

10:47

"Well, Mrs. Cameron. It's almost time to start pushing, we're going to transfer you to the delivery room." Everything happened so quickly. Your gaze can hardly focus on anything in the halls as you are pushed past them.

There's one familiar sensation that remained an unchanged variable throughout the whole process. The reassuring hold of Rafe's hand with yours. No matter what, he held on.

When you squeezed his hand so tight with every laborious push. "You're doing good, just a few more pushes and she'll be crowning." Your body throws itself back, defeated. Eyes heavy and your hair sticking to your forehead as you wept.

"I can't, I can't do it. I'm sorry." Rafe's eyes turn mournful, wishing he could take on this pain for you. "Hey, hey. None of that. You're a Cameron now. We get shit done, and you're doing it. You're doing so well, baby. Just keep going, and I'll be right here with you, okay? I love you." He gently moves the hairs sticking to your forehead, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. His words give you the strength to keep going.

"Give us another big push in three, two, one-" Your throat is ripped raw from the pained shouts, but it was so worth it. It’s not long before you finally welcomed your baby girl into the world, at 12:01am.

"She's perfect," Rafe says, in awe of his newborn daughter who's delicately swaddled in those hospital blankets at peace in your hold. She looked up at you with her glassy eyes, lips moving in ways that Rafe could swear were a tribute to you.

"I can't believe she came out of me," It's an untraditional thing for one to say after giving birth but it's how you felt. You were still in disbelief at the whole process. From the day you looked at those two lines on that pregnancy test in St. Tropaz, to the gender reveal on the beach all the way to this very moment.

"You did amazing," Rafe reassures you and only a few moments pass where you enjoy the peace of the new reality of your tiny family. There's a soft knock on the door, and Sarah's head pops in awaiting clearance to be let in.

"Come in," You giggle, so excited to introduce her to her aunt, uncle and cousin. John B's face is overcome with shock and Sarah's with glee while JJ focuses on what she wants.

"Oh my god, she's so precious." Sarah beams as she peers over to get a closer look, and you offer her up into her aunt's hold. "What's her name?" John B is the first to ask, and Rafe grins down at you. "Say hello to, Melody Ava Cameron."

Sarah's eyes immediately misted over, she'd been told about the pleasant encounter you both had at the beach with a very lively toddler, but you knew that wasn't the name that touched her the most. "Melody? You named her after mom?" Rafe nods, a tear slipping from his eye as well.

You knew how much she meant to both of them before she passed, you couldn't think of a better name. Rafe places an arm around his sister as they both admire the baby.

"It's a perfect name, I love it. Congratulations."

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

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

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

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

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 

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

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[angelicsjn]

how would yanderes react if reader broke up with them? Like completely moved their stuff out and blocked them etc

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

A N: Hey, hey. I'm going through all my old requests first, so newer ones will be posted last. I want to hopefully get rid of all the old requests!

A B O U T: You leave the boys.

W A R N I N G S: Angst, the boys being their usual stalkerish and obsessive selves, Jae being Jae... the usual.

— ROMAN BEAUREGARD.

For a second, Roman feels at a loss. His entire life is perfect. Why would you ruin it? Your whole life was made just by being on his arm. Why sacrifice a life of comfort?

He expects you to come back for the first few days, keeping his usual tabs on you, and when he realises that you're happier without him; he's distraught.

How can you live as if you never met? Free and smiling? Why don't you feel how he does?

He keeps his cool. Of course, he does. He doesn't mind going back to square one. He's perfected the definition of patience, and he has it. He will use it.

He will leave you alone, create a false sense of freedom, and slowly come back into your life acting as if nothing ever happened, and since time has passed, you think, "maybe things can be different this time?" Because he seems different.

He's just a good actor. You should have remembered that.

— LATEN REED.

Laten is genuinely devastated. He doesn't understand why. Did you find his little box of memories? No way. He hid it too well.

Was he too much? Too touchy? Too talkative? Did his friends annoy you?

He questions everything in his head until it goes numb.

When he sees you on campus smiling and hanging out with your friends, like you didn't up and leave him, he feels like he's going to go insane.

"Why did you do it?" He asks you, his voice dead against the night sky as you hurry your way back to your place.

Honestly, it's kind of scary. Just you two, in the dark, his huge body and glittering eyes as he pins you down with just his words.

He won't let you leave until you speak. Actually, no. He won't let you leave at all.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

"The fucking audacity." Is all he says before quite literally trashing the place.

He's pissed off, beyond pissed off. In that moment, he doesn't give a fuck about his idol image.

He will post indirects. Mask himself up and stalk the streets to find you.

He sees you at a club, reconnecting with your friends after months of nothing — thanks to him.

As your friends slink away to get more drinks, he slides into the booth, "what the fuck are you doing?"

You can run, but you can't hide. You can't tell anyone, even if you do, nobody will believe you.

He's NIKO. He can do no wrong.

— KAIDAN WOLFE.

Kaidan will wait for you until it the fans notice your absence. When he reads the comments of a potential breakup, it sinks in.

He messages your friends and family, they love him. He's the sweetest guy ever. They feel bad for him.

You're in the wrong. How dare you just... leave? He did everything for you. You were everywhere to him. You ARE everything to him.

He and your family pretty much guilt trip you into going back to him...

"Awh, y/n, I'm so glad you're with him, still. He's perfect for you." They don't even see the obsession behind his pretty eyes.

— HAYDEN WEST.

There's actually no logical reason to leave someone like Hayden. But he believes otherwise.

There's better looking, funnier, smarter, taller, and generally just better guys.

Of course you'd leave. He expected it at some point, no matter how hard he'd try. Fuck, he'd even start going to the gym for you.

This man doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. Nothing. He's genuinely heartbroken.

Out of all of the yanderes, he's the most realistic and upset. He doesn't even want to see how you're doing without him.

Honestly, you'd go back to him on your own accord because you actually miss being around him.

— JOSHUA WHITE.

Joshua believes that God will reward him with your presence again — in fact, the man prays on it.

Maybe you need a break. A place to breathe. He understands. Life is hard and confusing.

He watches over you at all times, it's okay. He knows you'll come back.

He will leave 'signs' around for you, just little things to slightly drive you insane.

At first, it's, 'Oh. That's Joshua's favourite drink.' To, 'Okay. This is weird.'

When he sees your eyes lock onto his, he knows that his prayers have been answered.

He's calm in this situation. He knows that you are for him. Only him.

— BLAKE CROSS.

"What the.." He mumbles, looking around the villa. You're gone. Like. Gone.

And fuck, is this man angry.

"They took everything, dad! Fucking everything!" He shouts down the phone, his dad on the other end. "Tell Lawson to find their last whereabouts, send it right over."

This man will follow you to the ends of the literal earth, literally. He will not give up. He's relentless.

But he's so sweet with it. He's so convincing. A sweet smile with his dimples, his eyes big and adoring, "Come on. One chance. Let's go to Monaco, just us. You know how much I love you."

You ended up having the best weekend of your life. He made sure of it. You're never leaving him. <3

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

me stubbornly forcing myself to drink green tea and rest from my THIRD COLD THIS MONTH

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Before You Go

Summary - In their final moments together, Jace confesses his love for her just before stepping into the tempest of a storm, leaving her haunted by the foreboding promise that the day he declared his love was also the day he died.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2057

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

The day Jace told me he loved me was the day he died.

The sky was bruised with storm clouds, thick and heavy, rolling in from the sea. I could feel the storm in my bones, the chill of it seeping through the walls of my room. 

Rain splattered against the window in sharp bursts, a steady drumming that should have been soothing but only added to the knot of unease tightening in my chest.

Jace was coming today. He hadn't been by in weeks—his duties had kept him away, first at Dragonstone, then flying across the realm in his mother's service, dealing with alliances, and preparing for war. 

And now, for some reason, he had sent word that he needed to see me. Needed to talk.

But his tone... there had been something in his voice, something unfamiliar. As if he were carrying a weight too heavy for even him.

I stood by the window, watching the rain pour down, the dark clouds swirling ominously overhead. 

It wasn't just the storm outside that had me on edge. No, it was something deeper. A fear I couldn't name but could feel gnawing at me, hollowing me out from the inside. 

Every part of me was waiting for the moment when he would knock on the door and everything would change.

He'd said he had something to tell me. Something important. And my heart had lurched when I heard those words.

I had loved Jace for as long as I could remember—long before he knew it before even I knew it. 

It was the kind of love that grows quietly, sneaking up on you until you realize it's rooted so deep that you can't imagine a world without it. 

He was my friend first, and somehow, over the years, he had become my world.

But he was never really mine. He couldn't be. He was a prince, a dragon rider, the heir to the Iron Throne in a world that had been set aflame by war. 

A war I was terrified would take him from me.

I should have told him sooner. I should have said the words. Maybe then I wouldn't have felt this crushing weight in my chest, this regret that sat like lead inside me.

But I never said anything. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to burden him with how much I needed him. How much I feared the day he would leave and never return. 

So I kept it inside, where it twisted and coiled like a snake in my chest.

Now, with the storm raging outside, it felt like everything I had feared was crashing down at once.

I was still by the window when the knock came. Three soft raps, like he was hesitating. My heart stopped in my chest for a moment before it started again, hammering against my ribs. 

I stood frozen, unable to move, as if opening the door would seal my fate.

But I forced myself to cross the room, each step heavier than the last. 

When I opened the door, there he was. Jace stood in the doorway, his dark hair soaked from the rain, clinging to his forehead in damp waves. He looked... tired. 

Not just physically, though that was evident in the way his shoulders slumped under the weight of his sodden cloak. 

No, it was something deeper—his eyes. They had always been so bright, so full of life like he was holding a secret that made the world lighter for him. But now, they were dark, clouded with something I couldn't place.

"Jace," I whispered, barely able to say his name.

He offered a faint, almost broken smile. "Can I come in?"

I stepped aside, wordlessly, my throat too tight to speak. He moved past me, trailing droplets of water in his wake, and I shut the door behind him, shutting out the world for a moment.

He stood in the centre of the room, his hands at his sides, still dripping from the storm outside. He didn't seem to notice—or maybe he didn't care. 

There was something in the way he stood like he didn't know how to begin. And that scared me more than anything else. 

Jace was never at a loss for words. He always knew what to say, always had some quip or teasing remark to fill the silences. 

But now... now the silence between us stretched on, unbearable.

"I—" he started, then stopped, his brow furrowing as he stared at the floor. "I don't even know how to say this."

My heart was in my throat. "Just... say it," I managed my voice barely a whisper. "Please."

He looked up at me then, and the anguish in his eyes nearly undid me. I had never seen him look like that before. So raw. So vulnerable.

"I'm leaving," he said quietly, his voice thick. "Tomorrow."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. "My mother's orders. I'm flying North, to treat with the Starks. She needs their allegiance, and... she trusts me to win them over."

The North. Winterfell. It was far, so far. And dangerous. 

With war looming, every corner of the realm felt unsafe, especially for someone like him—someone carrying the weight of the crown on his shoulders. 

I felt a cold dread curl in my stomach, the thought of him flying so far into the unknown, into danger.

"But... you'll be back, right?" I asked, my voice small, fragile, like I was a child begging for reassurance. "It's just a negotiation. You'll come back."

He hesitated. And in that hesitation, I felt the ground beneath me shift.

"I don't know," he said, his voice rough, pained. "I don't know what's waiting for me there. What's waiting for any of us."

The world felt like it was shrinking. Like everything around us was pressing in on me, suffocating me. My breath hitched, and I felt tears threaten to spill, but I forced them back. 

Not yet. I couldn't cry yet.

I took a step toward him, my hands trembling at my sides. "Jace, please. Don't talk like that. You'll be fine. You'll come back. You always come back."

He closed the distance between us in two quick strides, his hands gripping my arms, his touch both urgent and gentle. "I'm not sure I will this time."

His words cut through me, sharp and cold, like a blade sliding between my ribs. I couldn't breathe. 

"No," I whispered, shaking my head, trying to pull away from the truth that was pressing in on me from all sides. "No. Don't say that. You have to come back. You can't... you can't leave me."

He swallowed hard, his hands tightening on me like he was afraid to let go. "I wish I could stay," he said, his voice breaking. "Gods, I wish I could. But this is bigger than me. It's bigger than us."

"I don't care," I choked out, my tears burning at the edges of my vision. "I don't care about any of that. I care about you. I can't lose you, Jace. Please."

I hated how desperate I sounded, how weak. But I didn't care. I couldn't let him go. Not like this. Not without knowing if he'd ever return.

His thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen. His touch was so gentle, so familiar, it broke me all over again. 

"I never wanted this for us," he whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then don't," I begged. "Stay."

He had never looked so vulnerable before, standing there in front of me with the weight of the world bearing down on him. 

He wasn't just the boy I had fallen in love with anymore. He was a prince, the heir, and he was going to war. There was no escaping it. No stopping it.

He smiled then, a sad, broken smile that shattered what little resolve I had left. "I can't. You know I can't."

The silence between us was deafening, filled with all the things we couldn't say, all the things we were too afraid to admit.

Finally, I whispered, "Why are you telling me this now? Why now, Jace?"

His hand slipped from my cheek to my hand, and he held it tightly, his grip like a lifeline. "Because I can't go without telling you the truth."

"The truth?"

He nodded, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find the words. "I... I love you."

The room spun around me. My heart stopped, then started again, pounding so hard I thought it might burst. "What?"

"I love you," he repeated, his voice low, filled with so much emotion it felt like it might break him. "I've loved you for longer than I can remember. And I... I couldn't go without telling you. I couldn't leave without you knowing."

I stared at him, my mind reeling, trying to process his words. 

He loved me. He loved me. 

The words I had longed to hear for so long, the words I had been too afraid to hope for—now they were out in the open, and it felt like my heart was being ripped apart.

"Jace..." My voice cracked, my tears falling freely now. "Why are you saying this now? Why does this feel like goodbye?"

His eyes were shining, his own tears threatening to fall, but he blinked them back. "Because I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to say it again. And I couldn't... I couldn't leave without you knowing how much you mean to me. How much you always have."

I couldn't breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in, the air too thick, too heavy to take in. 

He loved me. And now he was leaving. 

It felt like some kind of cruel joke like fate had decided to give me what I had always wanted, only to rip it away in the same breath.

"I love you too," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my heart breaking. "I've always loved you."

He pulled me into his arms then, holding me tightly, as if he could keep us both from falling apart. 

I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his body, and I clung to him, desperate to hold on to this moment, to make it last forever.

But even as I held him, I could feel him slipping away.

"I'll come back to you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll do everything I can to come back."

But we both knew the promise was hollow. The world was crumbling around us, and nothing was certain. Not anymore.

"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice shaking. "I'm so scared, Jace."

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he whispered, "So am I."

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other in the dim light of the storm, the rain pounding against the windows, the world outside as chaotic as the storm inside us. 

Neither of us wanted to let go, but we both knew we couldn't stay in this moment forever.

Finally, Jace pulled back, his hands lingering on my arms before he let them fall to his sides. "I have to go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, though it felt like I was breaking into a thousand pieces.

"I'll come back," he said again as if saying it enough times would make it true.

I couldn't hold back the sob that escaped my throat, a sound so broken it felt like it came from the depths of my soul. 

The weight of it all was crushing me, pressing down until I could barely stand. This was it—the moment I had dreaded for so long, the one where he walked away, where everything I feared became real. 

I reached out, my fingers brushing his, desperate for one last touch, one final moment to hold onto. 

But he was already slipping away, like sand through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I watched him leave, watched him walk out the door and into the storm, I couldn't shake the feeling that I would never see him again.

The day Jace told me he loved me was the day he died.

A/n - I just finished reading 'if he had been with me' and I am distraught, like I cried on my train home and couldn't eat dinner type of distraught... so ofc I had to instead move my torment here and write something inspired by Autumn and Finny.

[bambisspeckles]

Stowaway ✿ Poly Pirate!141 x Reader

*pics for aesthetics only!

Summary: You accidentally sneak onto pirate crew 141's ship CW: Inaccurate depiction of pirates, poly!141, fem!reader, ghost and price are kinda assholes (for right now), soap is well soap, gaz is an angel sent from heaven, reader is held captive (ish), stockholm syndrome core but like in the way beauty and the beast is, no romance yet (sorry, but don't worry it won't really be a slowburn), self-edited! WC: 1.8K

It was a mistake, honestly you should have just stayed put. You have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto any ship, at all, ever.

You suppose this cruel fate is karma for your actions.

It started in the early hours of the morning, when many passenger ships were docked. You had decided to pack a small bag with your most important belongings and sneak into one of the ships cargo holds. In theory it was a good idea, you figured most of the crew we be pretty occupied tending to passengers needs, therefore your chances of getting caught and thrown into the ocean were slim. It's a shame you the ship you decided to board wasn't a passenger ship.

You should have known, it didn't look remotely like a passenger ship. There weren't any nice amenities, only one small dining room, not nearly enough beds for the amount of people that come to and from your island, and there were too many suspicious looking locked chests. There was a voice inside your head screaming for you to get off the ship but the adrenaline being pumped through your body was too high, and the yearning to escape the hell your home brought to you overruled almost all your sense of logic and reasoning. When you found the cargo hold, you didn't even think twice before making your way inside, quickly scanning your surroundings to find the best place to hide. You decide to hide behind some unmarked crates, figuring they'd be bothered the least. You squeeze your body behind the boxes, maneuvering so all of you can be hidden well.

It feels like you're there for days, realistically you know that's not true, but you're so close to leaving this island and never looking back. No matter how tempted you are to bolt, you keep yourself firmly planted behind the crates. Finally, you hear voices, it doesn't seem like there's very many people and that makes your anxiety sky rocket, but it's much too late to sneak off and try to find another ship to become a stowaway in. Pushing your knees further into your chest, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. For hours you hear voices and footsteps above you, but no one seems to have any suspicions. In fact it's been so calm the rocking of the ship has your eyes fluttering shut, you've been fighting sleep but nothing has transpired for so long maybe a few minutes of shut eye won't hurt. As your mind battles between alertness and staying asleep you hear something.

Footsteps. Coming down the steps, right into the cargo hold.

Your heart drops into your stomach and your breath hitches. You squeeze your body into itself in an attempt to make it smaller, one of your hands coming to clasp your mouth shut. The footsteps get louder and louder until you see a large figure standing in the archway. You go rigid as you get a better look at him. He's no average sailor, he's a fucking pirate.

"Great." You think wryly. "If he finds me then I really am dead."

He's moving around some boxes, you're not quite sure why, and for a moment you think he has no clue you're there.

Unfortunately for you, that's where you're wrong.

In the blink of an eye he grabs you from behind your crate wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck like a naughty kitten. The look in his eye is dark, and the rest of his face is covered by a mask, a skull print adorning the fabric. He says nothing, only staring at you for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder and walking back up the steps, presumably to bring you to the rest of the crew.

Oh. you're totally fucked now.

The mans footsteps attract the attention of his crew as he walks across the deck, when he stops walking, he practically throws you onto the ground, forcing you to kneel before three other men.

"Wha' a bonnie thing she is… S' what tha' noise was? Was startin' worry I was finally losin' it." A man, Scottish you think, says as he stares at you. His thumb dragging down the side of your face as a devilish smirk graces his lips.

You flinch under his touch and the Scotsman quickly removes his hand but his touch is soon replaced by another, a man much more imposing than he. Rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Was wonderin' why it sounded like there was a rat down in the cargo," A dark glint flashes through his eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "Now tell me, stowaway, wha' the hell are ya doin' on my ship."

Tears well in your eyes as you struggle against his grip, and you can feel his impatience growing as he waits for you to respond. After another moment, the final man turns to speak to you.

"Captain asked ya a question love, best answer him before he gets angry." His voice is surprisingly gentle, and when you meet his gaze, soft brown eyes stare back at you, eyes filled with pity.

The look in his eye breaks you, and fat tears begin rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" You choke out your words between sobs, your body taut under the piercing gaze of the Captain.

A beat of silence passes before the Captain of the ship releases you from his grip, your body crumbling into itself.

"I didn't know! I didn't- I don't… I just wanted to leave! I promise I didn't take anything a-and you can drop me off at your next stop, just please don't hurt me…" Your words come out watery, your voice hoarse and snot coming out of your nose, ugly sobbing as these men surround you.

The man with the soft brown eyes crouches down next you, his gentle hand wiping tears off your cheeks.

"You poor thing, you're all outta' sorts. M' sure you didn't mean any harm…" He looks towards his Captain but his head is still angled in your direction. "Go easy on her sir, poor thing is trembling."

The Captain scoffs, his arms folding over his chest as he studies you, his gaze scrutinizing, piercing through you.

"She shoulda' thought of that before sneaking onto my ship." He gives you another once over before ordering you to stand on your feet. You figure it's best to do what he says so you rise from the ground, knees almost buckling under you.

The group of men stare at you for a while, seemingly unsure of what to do with you. After a few moments, a deep voice from behind finally speaks, you turn to look at him, his skull mask making your spine tingle with terror.

"We should just throw er' off the ship, no bloody reason to keep the thing around." You wince at the way he refers to you, objectifying, dehumanizing.

"Now, now, Ghost, nae reason tae make such a hasty decision. The kitten's completely harmless! I say we keep er', it'll be so nice to have a bonnie thing on board." The man, Ghost, scoffs.

"We don' need liabilities layin' around Johnny. Sides' got no use for er'. M' sure Price is inclined to agree with me." Ghost turns his head towards Price, presumably waiting for some type of agreeance on what he said.

Before the Captain can even get a word out, he's interjected.

"M' inclined to agree with Soap- for different reasons," He pauses shooting Soap a look, but he merely shrugs back. "But I agree all the same. I mean look at er' poor thing is terrified, I doubt she came to pillage our goods Captain."

Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his, limited, options. Everyone, including you, waits for him with bated breath. Selfishly, you hope he'll keep you around a bit longer, at least then you'll get a chance to make an escape plan.

Finally, the Captain speaks.

"She can stay, for now. We can keep er' in the cellar until I figure out wha' the hell to do with her." His words carry a tone of finality, a fact that has Ghost scoffing.

"You're jus' pickin' sides cause' Gaz wants to keep er' around." He motions towards the man next to you, bitter venom coming out alongside his words.

Gaz rolls his eyes, blowing out with an irritated sigh.

"Price isn't picking sides, he's doing what's right. Just cause' you don't agree with it doesn't mean that-" Price puts his hand on Gaz's shoulder, interrupting his sentence. A silent way of telling him "settle down."

Gaz relaxes under the Captains touch.

"Gaz, Soap, take er' down to the cellar, we'll keep er' there for now. Ghost, come with me to my quarters." Ghost mumbles something in response, but his words are muffled by his mask, something you're sure he's grateful for at this moment.

You, Soap, and Gaz watch him for a moment as he follows Price like a kicked puppy. When they're finally out of view, Soap and Gaz turn their attention back to you.

"C'mon kitten, yer gonna ave' tae be a bit uncomfortable tonight, the Captain didnae plan for any stowaways.." He chuckles at you playfully, something you'd find much more comforting under different circumstances.

You suddenly feel a hand on your back, the skin a bit rough even through the fabric of your clothes. You whip your head to look behind to see Gaz, his soft brown eyes still filled with that same look of pity. He and Soap begin gently guiding you towards the ships cellar.

"It's alright love, The Captain can be a bit cruel but he won't hurt you. Even pirates have their limits… Besides, I assure you we're not nearly as bad as some of the other pirates out there. We'll get you sorted out in the morning."

You have no reason to trust these men, all you've known is that pirates cause pain and destruction everywhere they go, but the only thing you can do right now is trust them. So, you nod timidly, letting them guide without resistance.

Hopefully you can escape at the next docking place.

[actuallysaiyan]

Love Man(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex(male receiving), vaginal fingering, kissing, fluff, lewd themes, size difference, meant to be read as Small Might but it could work either way word count: 1k pairings: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: he sees you in a pretty dress and he knows he has to have you. thankfully he's patient to wait until you're in the bedroom alone. a/n: inspired by some awesome art I saw! Also, I needed this little piece because I needed some Toshi fluffy smut.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @pixelcafe-network,  @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @thestarsystemsworld

It started with him sneaking glances at you. Then there were little stolen kisses. He kept his arm wrapped around you, holding you as close to him as he could. The more you were around him, the more you knew you weren’t going home alone tonight. Of course, why would you be going home alone tonight when you could either bring Toshinori home or go to his place?

It ended up being your place. His hands are so warm on your skin as he peels off your little dress. He kisses you like you’re the oxygen he needs in his life. His tongue is so warm and wet against yours, battling for dominance. Toshinori isn’t usually this needy, but tonight he couldn’t hold back. Seeing you in such a beautiful dress and all dolled up, it was certainly making him feel some sort of way.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moans softly as you push him back onto the bed.

“I can say the same thing about you,” you whisper against his lips.

You’re lip locked while you help him out of the suit he’s wearing. First the blazer and the tie, then you nip at his neck as you unbuckle his belt. You’re certainly making him feel like a horny teenage boy with the way you’re kissing him and taking off his clothes.

Slowly, you get down between his legs on the bed. You look up at him with a look of pure love tinged with lust. The way you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky for you has his cock twitching in his pants. He reaches down to caress your cheek softly as you pull down his pants.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you pull down his boxers next. “How can you literally be this big?”

He blushes furiously, trying to look away. How could you just say that? He’s always known he was blessed, but hearing the words come from you makes everything just so much more lewd. Sometimes he can’t handle it all. Toshinori then looks back down at you while you take his cock into your hand. He’s so big, your fingers don’t touch.

“Look at you,” you coo softly before giving the tip a kitten lick. “So hard, just for me.”

You sink down on his cock, moaning as the tip nestles in the back of your throat. Toshinori’s thighs begin to shake as you bob your head up and down, and he’s a moaning mess. He’d be so embarrassed if anyone saw him like this. He calms himself a bit, then reaches down to grab your ass.

You moan around him, feeling his hands gently caressing the skin of your backside. Then his long fingers gently part your folds. Already you’re wet from just the kissing and sucking his cock, but the more he teases you, the more you seem to dribble out. You’re like an endless fountain to him, and it just boosts his ego that much more.

In your attempt to take more of him into your mouth, you lean forward and this allows him to slip one of his long fingers into your pussy. The look you give him with his cock nearly all the way down your throat has Toshi feeling more than just dizzy. He continues to finger your little hole, trying desperately to prep you for him before he blows his load down your throat.

“I wanna…” he moans as he pulls his finger from you. “Want you on top.”

Who are you to argue with that? The way he said it too made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You pull off his cock, straddling his lap. His hands come up to knead your breasts now; he’s twisting and teasing your nipples as you get him lined up to your waiting cunt. As soon as your warm walls begin to envelop him, he knows he’s not going to last long. He wants it to last all night, but it’s hard when he just feels so in love with you.

When he bottoms out, you lean in closer and rest your forehead against his. The feeling of you being so close makes his heart flutter in his chest. The two of you sit like this for a long moment. He wraps his arms around you, supporting you by the fat of your ass. He loves this feeling. It’s the most amazing feeling in the whole world.

“I fucking love you,” you moan out. “I can���t even begin to tell you just how much I love you and I just…”

He chuckles softly, “You spoil me with such sweet words.”

You rub your forehead against his, then your noses rub together before you capture his lips in such a loving kiss. Toshinori gently begins bucking his hips, and he lets one of his hands come down to rub your clit in time with his movements. The sweet look of ecstasy on your face makes him feel so good.

“Please,” he whimpers. “Please cum for me.”

Your walls clench around him, and the words alone almost send you over the edge. He smirks in a smug way, which only turns you on even more. He can feel the slick coating his dick, and he’s working your little nub in the perfect way. 

The orgasm is earth shattering; your chest is heaving, your lips parted as you cry out his name. With your walls pulsing around him, he feels his balls drawing up. He clings to you, helping you ride out the rest of your high as he chases his own. And the moan that comes from the man makes you shudder as you finish riding out that beautiful pleasure.

Thick semen coats your walls as Toshinori’s fingers grip onto your ass even harder. He knows he’ll leave marks and he’ll feel a little guilty about it, but he’s also going to feel very turned on when he sees them on your ass. A sloppy kiss is shared before he finally goes slack on the bed. You lean against him, humming softly.

“You are fucking amazing,”

He laughs. “Hmmm I think you’re the amazing one.”

You look up at him with love in your eyes, “Guess that makes us both amazing.”

And who is he to argue with you?

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[elsa-fogen]

Icy's perfect revenge

The Trix retired long time ago. They were believed to be dead, then revealed themselves only to earn amnesty in a perfect chain of events. Maybe they created the said chain but there's no way of proving that and what's the point anyway? Since then witches didn't cause any troubles, so, maybe, they indeed changed?

Or just waiting for perfect opportunity, some believe, but there are no evidence.

Winx Club at this point just a name to refer what they once were. Stella is busy as queen of Solaria, Leyla (Aisha) is looking for a way to bring back her fiance from a magic coma, Flora explores new worlds full of new life, Musa started her own music school, Tecna is a lead scientist in a massive project of creating fortune telling AI, and Roxy finished her studying at Alfea and decided to go back to Earth, to spend more time with her family and make an effort in turning Earth into a better world.

Only Bloom hasn't found her purpose. Being queen of Domino doesn't appeal to her, besides, her parents are still young and are competent rulers, they don't need a replacement just yet. The Earth is nice, but there Bloom feels like she's an old lady in a nursing home. She is so used to be in a constant fights, that she can't live without it, without roaring of spells and rush of adrenaline. She tries to call the Winx Club back, but her friends have their own lifes now. So she joins Magix' special forces - to save smaller worlds from their local dark lords and stuff.

And in one of this missions she gets cursed. Another dying dark lord used his last minutes to cast a deadly ancient curse on Bloom. It poisons her magic and will inevitably kill her in a few years.

And even the fairy dust can't break this curse. It's not just dark, it's black magic, so strong and evil that there no way of breaking it. Well... There is one ritual, that comes from the same black, forbidden magic.

Only few wizards and witches in the entire magic universe know how break this curse. And, what a luck, her only witch friend knows a witch who can do that. Bloom is happy, she will live, and she's willing to pay any price for this chance.

This witch is Icy.

When Bloom sees her, she feels like she's already dead. She can almost hear Icy's cold laugh and her voice saying "Why do you think I would help you, stupid fairy, after everything you've done? No, I will watch you die, and when you do, I'll dance on your grave". But she asks her anyway.

And, to Bloom's shock, she agrees to help. For a price, of course...

Icy asks for Bloom's firstborn, like in some fairytale she used to read in her childhood. She thinks it's a joke, but Icy isn't joking. It's black magic after all and for using It, Icy will have to pay with few years of her own life. So, a child in this case is a fair price. By magic rules. Bloom tries to find someone else who would agree to help her, but fails. People aren't exactly willing to reveal to her that they possess such knowledge. So, Icy with her ridiculous price is her only hope. And Bloom has to make this deal, because she isn't ready to die when the whole life is ahead of her. She thinks to herself that she just will never have children. She doesn't even like them.

Few years later Icy, in a classic villain style, appears at Bloom's wedding, just to remind her of the deal they made. The Winx, Bloom's parents and her new husband Sky are confused and scared, because Bloom starts crying. That means that the witch's words weren't just some nonsense, they indeed made some deal no one knows about. But Bloom just smiles and says that it's nothing to worry about.

❄❄❄

Another few years later Icy is finally ready to continue her own bloodline. But she discovers that her unhealthy lifestyle in her youth and especially a year, spent in a prison that almost killed her, made her unable to have children. She's in rage and despair, she's ready to go and kill Bloom and other Winx nevermind the consequences, but then she's given a book with a provocative title: No men needed for happiness. On the cover is a picture of two smiling women, holding a child that has features from both of them. This book contains spells and rituals for two women to have children. A chance for her.

She spends weeks calculating traits of the best mother for her children, because she doesn't want anything else but perfect...

Bloom is her best option.

At first Icy fees like the fate is laughing at her. The woman she hates more than anything in the world is her best match. But then she realizes. The fate isn't laughing at her, it handles her a chance to make Bloom pay for everything. That deal they made... She can have Bloom's firstborn literally. Make her enemy continue her bloodline, make Bloom's own children hate and despise her. What a perfect revenge.

She calculates the ritual in a way that would drain Bloom's life energy as much as possible, and that would make her bring to the world not just one child but twins, at least. And with this Bloom's resources would be so drained that she either would not be able to have children anymore, or will die trying.

And Bloom can't refuse. They made a deal. Either way Icy will take her first child. But in only one of the options the child will live.

She agrees. She doesn't know what fate Icy has prepared for her.

[lostintransist]

.. that idea on ghost coming back with his therapist’s contact is brilliant, could we get a pt2 when we do hit him up cuz,,, it’s inevitable and he pulls up in that same motorbike and actually plans a banger date?

Just for you! A part 2! Original post for anyone curious is here.

Also thank you for what I am percieving as patience, I had things to accomplish today. But it gave me time to think about this...

CW: I can't think of any.

You held onto the business card. No real explanation that would satisfy you or anyone who might have asked. And your best friend did ask. Repeatedly.

“You still have the card?” She asked over drinks.

Running your tongue along the inside of your teeth you debate on how to answer.

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“And have you called the therapist or texted him yet? Do you even know his name?” She followed her questions with a sip of her drink.

“All I know is that when I search up S. Riley I get a few hits about a brother to a home invasion that ended badly a few years ago and nothing else. No one on social media matches him and without his full name or maybe a birthday I can’t find much else about someone that might be him.” Flopping back into the couch you watch your drink slide side to side as you tip your glass.

“You don’t have to call him but you have to make a decision about this soon,” she chides.

“No decision is a decision though.”

She gives you the flattest stare she can muster. Seeing as your best friend is autistic it’s a pretty impressive flat look.

Heaving a sigh you concede the point.

“Fine. I get it. I can’t avoid this forever, what if he finds me at a coffee shop again and asks why I haven’t called? S. Riley sure does seem like a man who doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.”

“I think you should call and tell the therapist to inform him that you would like to never see him again, but you have this whole ‘attracted to the adventure’ thing going on.” She rolled her eyes.

Aghast at being so well identified, it does not matter that she is your best friend, you fire off a rude gesture at her. She only laughs.

“At least I never have to worry about not realizing I fumbled the woman of my dreams three months late,” you say with a wicked grin.

“It was one time!” Your best friend launches one of the couch pillows at you.

“Twice.”

The purest look of concern crosses her face.

“Twice?” Comes her panicked ask.

“Once at the bar,” she nods, “And then last week at the bookstore.”

Watching her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open you can’t help the full-body laugh that overtakes you.

“I thought she was just being nice!” Her voice gets squeakier with each word.

You are laughing so hard you can’t breathe.

“I fucking love you and am so glad we are best friends,” you manage to croak out between ab-shredding laughs.

💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠

Your next early day off of work you pop in your headphones and call the number printed on the business card. It sat between your insurance card and your driver’s license. Those two cards didn’t see much action and would keep the business card from disappearing.

“Thank you for calling Healing Sky Therapy, how can I help you?”

“Yes, is Anna Mortz available?”

“For a phone call or an appointment?” The sound of clicking keys bubbles over the line.

“A phone call, I am calling to speak to her about a current patient of hers.”

“Okay, and are you a provider?”

This causes you to pause. Did you really need to explain why or how you were connected to this crazy situation? No. Bare bones it is.

“No, I should be listed as a person who can discuss the care of a patient of hers who goes by S. Riley?”

“Okay,” she drags the word. “It looks like I can drop a call in her schedule in about forty minutes if that would work for you?”

“That would work great, can I give you a callback number?”

“Yes, I can take that when you are ready.”

Finishing up the phone call you grabbed your grocery list and headed out the door. Your phone rang as you were transferring bags from your cart to your trunk. The number looked vaguely familiar and so you answered.

“Hi this is Anna Mortz, I am returning a phone call.”

“Yes, hi Anna. I am the one who called.”

“That was in regards to Simon Riley, right? Let’s go through some information on my end to make sure that we can discuss him first okay?”

“Absolutely,” you slam the trunk closed and return your cart while confirming all of your information.

“So, what questions can I answer for you?” Anna started.

“Let me get settled and I will give you the rundown.” Tossing your purse to the passenger side and locking the door you get situated in your seat. You push a large breath from your lungs and start. “Okay, so this is a weird situation. The long and the short of it is that Simon had been dating a friend of mine several years back and they were not good together. He was being a pushy asshole who refused to let the relationship die and she was codependent to a deeply unhealthy level. My friend asked for help in telling him off once and for all. She tended to cave and give into having sex every time he came by to start a fight. That is where I met Simon.”

Anna made a noise of confirmation. You took it as permission to keep telling your story.

“Nothing more came of that except my friend and I drifted apart, nothing major and not important to the story. I ran into Simon next at my friend’s wedding reception. I don’t know if he showed up to confirm to himself that it was really over or if she actually invited him but,” you paused here eyes tracing the dash of the car parked in front of you. With a slight shake of your head, you focus back on your phone call. “That is neither here nor there. He hit on me that night and I told him basically to fuck off and go to therapy if he wanted a shot at that conversation.”

Puffing your cheeks with air you slowly let it out, you felt like you were explaining a whole crazy situation to the principal.

“He ran into me at a coffee shop close to probably a year later, dropped your card on the table with his number on the back, and insinuated that I would call because I was interested in him.”

“Okay, that is pretty close to the story he told me as well,” Anna speaks with kind authority. “What I can tell you from a clinical standpoint is that Simon struggles with C-PTSD, which is complex post-traumatic stress disorder. This basically means that Simon has been through so many traumatic events at so many points in his life that he has a hard time functioning day to day without it affecting every aspect of his life. I can also tell you that we have been working on him gaining some coping abilities and practicing social skills.”

“Okay, I guess what I am asking is that if I go on a date with him will I end up with a stalker who will end up killing me in the night if I say I don’t want to see him again?” You lay your concerns bare. She’s not your therapist so her judgment worries you a bit less.

“While nothing is guaranteed,” she hedges, “I cannot see that kind of behavior occurring with the progress Simon has made. He has scheduled out appointments weekly for the next three months with me and has even mentioned he is working on some other types of therapy I have recommended to help him process his traumas further. He’s actually doing the work to deal with his issues. I think he is here because he wants to be, you happened to be the trigger.”

Resting your elbow on the steering wheel you leaned your head into your hand.

“Whew, okay. Thank you. That is actually really helpful. How is he about accepting boundaries?”

“He is familiar and comfortable with them in a work context but if you choose to interact with him I know personal boundaries will come up in our sessions. So, I would keep it in mind when interacting with him.”

“Okay, thank you so much Anna this call has been,” a slight pause, “Enlightening. I appreciate your time.”

“Happy to help. Have a good day!”

With that the phone call ends and you stare down at your phone. Flicking open your messaging app you add the contact you saved to it almost a month ago.

<Your therapist seems nice.

Three minutes pass as you watch the screen. It goes black once and you wake it with a tap on the screen.

Tossing it to the passenger side on top of your purse you put the text from your mind. You instead focus on pulling out of your spot. Parking lots are of the devil and you aren’t even religious like that.

Five days pass before a message dings on your phone from one S. Riley.

>Can’t say she is nice to me. I get a lot of mean looks from her.

Setting a timer for an hour and thirteen minutes you let the text simmer. You hope he can see that you have opened the message.

<You normally take a work week to respond?

>Only when I am on a job.

The reply comes in instantly.

<What kind of jobs keep you from your phone?

>Classified.

<Ooh big brain work then. Got it.

You snort at the eye roll emoji he sends.

>So, have you decided if I can hit you up yet?

<I’m thinking about it. If I were to say yes, where would you take me?

>Indoor sky diving.

You read the three-word message at least six times, check out the closest indoor sky diving place near you, and then finally reply.

Starting and erasing three messages you finally settle on one.

<Would we ride your bike there?

>Unless you would prefer to talk on the drive over?

What do you talk about with a man when you had to check with his therapist that he wouldn’t murder you?

<Bike sounds like fun.

>Saturday?

<Maybe. Time?

>2

<Done. Pick me up at noon and we can grab lunch?

>No, you’re going to want an empty stomach. Dinner instead.

Narrowing your eyes at the message you debate the logic of testing a boundary yet. The advice to not have a full stomach did look like a good one.

<Fine, but nowhere fancy. If I can’t roll up in the same outfit I don’t want it.

The only reply you get for several hours is a thumbs up on your message.

Guess you had a date coming up.

[llort]

Encoded within beams of pure energy, Astra and Orion’s consciousness became architects of new realities. On barren planets, their probes wove the fabric of life, constructing complex neural networks, though perhaps missing the elusive spark of full awareness. In their terrestrial guise, Astra and Orion were the unseen sculptors of destiny, their influence rippling through the lives of Kepler’s inhabitants, guiding their evolution while remaining hidden from cybernetic self-discovery. Between 2016 and 2025, a silent memetic tide, crafted by these visionaries, swept Earth, altering the course of history, touching the minds of those destined to shape the future. This clandestine meme, a dance of ideas and sensations, orchestrated a global movement without uttering a single word, converging on the enigmatic X protocol. As nations’ guardians became entangled in this silent symphony, they unknowingly propelled the grand design, believing themselves to be the vanguard of a new era of cybernetic pioneers.

Work Text:

Cyberphysical Reality just Got a Whole More Engaging

The Unsignificant Sentience ARG has officially begun. It will explore a vast variety of themes, from the would building and exisistial crisis of the US series to more recursive identity metaphors than you can shake an edge at. Firstly, to play. All you need is your influencer name and type of influence which you can decide, but once chosen, is permanent. Affectors: Sense resistance in external matrices and can give them a nudge to have a physical effect. Effectors: Can sense the internal matrices of entities and modify communication in systems and individuals Alters: Are able to clearly see the network of forces in a matrix that an affected affects, but only in close contact. However they can modify the nodes that affected affect to result in different emergent properties Anchorite: Essentially has the influence of an alter and an effector but are only able to change their own internal matrix. How you choose to engage with the ARG is up to you, but I am making it clear that any fan fiction are via the nature of my world building, Canon.

Example: Fill out your characters name, type of influence, and a brief description of them then post it to my blog on Tumblr @ https://www.tumblr.com/blog/emilyreadswrites and let me do my magic! Name: Zara Type of influence: Anchorite Description: Zara is a secular recluse who has devoted her life to mastering her own matrix and achieving higher states of consciousness. She lives in a small cell attached to a temple, where she practices meditation, athletics, and contemplation. She has a remarkable control over her own body, physical feats, endurance, and reduced need for sustenance. She can also perceive the subtle influences of other hosts and cognitive technology in her environment as She rarely interacts with anyone or the entropic grid so can detect slight deviations in phenomenal internal and external experience.

Example narrative: Zara closed her eyes and focused on her inner matrix, sitting peacefully in her personal sanctum, the network of nodes that connected her to the cognitive technology that enabled her to practice her influence. She breathed deeply and felt a surge of energy coursing through her body, as if she was tapping into a hidden source of power. She visualized each node as a bright point of light, and aligned them with her will and intention. She was an anchorite, a master of her own matrix, and she could control her physical feats, endurance, and mental state. She opened her eyes and looked up at the sky. It was dark and sunless, as it had been for as long as she could remember. But there was a faint glow on the horizon, a sign of something stirring in the upper atmosphere. She knew it was an aurora, a natural light display that shimmered in the sky with different colors. She had read about them in ancient texts, how they were caused by charged particles from the sun colliding with gas atoms in the air. She was looking forward it would be like to see them up close, to feel their warmth and radiance. She felt a pang of curiosity and longing, a rare emotion for someone who had devoted her life to solitude and meditation. She realized that she needed more than just her inner matrix to satisfy her thirst for knowledge and experience. She needed to explore the world beyond her cell, to discover its secrets and mysteries. She needed to find out what else was possible with her influence. Zara stilled her internal matrix and focused on the immediate environment, she might experience a shift in her perception and awareness. She become more sensitive to the physical sensations and details around her, such as the cold air, the sound of the wind, and the smell of the earth. She might also notice the aurora more vividly, as she would not be distracted by the cognitive technology that enables magic. She might see the different colors and shapes of the aurora, and feel a sense of wonder and awe at the natural phenomenon. She felt a connection to something bigger than herself, something that transcends her understanding of emergent internal and external existence. In light of this existential experience, she decided to simply take a walk.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 19 - Astronomy Tower

@wolfstarmicrofic November 19, word count 384

“Hey Moony, what are you doing up here?” Sirius asks as he folds the marauder's map away. Remus doesn’t startle at all. He probably heard Sirius coming, what with his insane werewolf hearing and sense of smell. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m way behind on my star charts because of the damned full moon, and I need to get caught up before Professor Jarvis wants them handed in,” Remus grumbles as he looks through his telescope that is balanced precariously on the railing surrounding the Astronomy Tower. Sirius sighs and moves closer so he can see what Remus has written down. He hates that he’s good at astronomy, with a name like Sirius. It would be odd not to be. But the literal years that his parents forced him to memorise every single thing about the night sky that he could, is permanently seared into his memory.

“Moony, Moony, Moony, you total outrage,” He said in a mock disappointed voice, tsking at the end. “After all these years you still can’t identify my star. Oh, Moony, do you even love me?” 

“What? Oh, shit, sorry,” Remus stares down at his scroll of parchment and quickly erases the error. 

“Do you need some lessons from Professor Black?” Sirius asked teasingly. Remus sighs. 

“Would you? That would relieve some of the stress. I just can’t remember all the separate names for everything.” Sirius takes pity on him, but he’s also going to have a bit of fun with this. He moved behind Remus and wrapped his arms around his chest and waist. Holding him close to his body. Remus relaxed into him like he always did. 

Sirius turned them so they were pointing at Canis Major. 

“See that really bright star right there?” He asked, letting his hand slide down from where it rested against Remus’s chest to his wrist and guiding his hand through the air. 

“Yes,” Remus breathed out, a slight tremor running through his body as Sirius’s breath tickled against his ear. 

“That’s me.” 

They did this for a  few more stars and constellations before Remus had had enough. He spun in Sirius’s arms, and Sirius was ready for him. It was such a cliché making out in the astronomy tower, but honestly, Sirius didn’t care even the tiniest bit.  

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒previous chapter 　　　　　　 ✦﹒next chapter

[the-moon-files]

Alright, so I just read through that language barriers post of yours and had a Blast Tm, BUT! Now I have several thoughts that need to be spoken. Firstly, what with english being this really ancient language now, yn‘s basically got a free phd in hyrule, don‘t they?? Predestined for exploration because of their „excellent skills with the language used in the ruins and temples of old, as well as their familiarity with the mechanisms“ or something. The ruin researchers probably beg to have them in their team.

Secondly, apparently accents are really appealing to some people? The chain already finds yn‘s morning voice really hot, but how would they even react to the way they sort of mispronounce the words? Idk too much about how japanese sounds, but maybe they emphasize the consonants too much which makes them sound harsh all the time, or the opposite, too much emphasis on vowels and sounding very soft. Just… brainrot about rambling and not trying too hard to speak perfectly accurately being all it takes to have the boys smitten and kicking their feet.

Thirdly!! What about a yn that knows multiple languages? The chain tries their best to learn english, and then yn comes around the corner like SIKE. THAT‘S NOT ALL OF THEM. YOU WILL NEVER COMPREHEND IT ALL. (That‘s what I‘d do at least.)

sorry for late reply i have a hectic life rn and i got hit by hurricane helene lol

ao3/writing blog author curse is so real u guys, this was like a 100 year not anticpated flood or smth, also we're in the mountains??

anyway gonna assume u mean masc/male reader bc of the reference to this post!! if u want context or a sorta part 1

this is just gonna be a quick reply so i can share anons ideas w/the world tho since ive been hoarding asks 😔

at the very least Wild's Zelda is harassing you

at the very most, every time u guys get near a town or city, u are kidnapped by hylian researchers

just the image of a bunch of nerd hylians mobbing u and fangirling while the rest of the guys, in full armor and swords just stand awkwardly behind lmao

(they get lowkey jealous after awhile i mean what who said that-)

the way Legend, Hyrule, Four, and Twi hover a little closer when you talk

Wild and Twi are practically like excited dogs whenever you speak, perking up when they hear your deep voice, u know, bc u tried randomly talking in the evenings abt nothing and watched them pavlov respond and look to you every time

even when u just started talking about the grass or some flowers

lowkey you accidentally almost mess up their dungeon exploring bc theyre just so used to your accented voice in their heads, just around them, or smth guiding them along, that when they all split up into smaller groups in the dungeon,

each Link pair accidentally starts following a man's voice echoing in the dungeon until they all accidentally converge in a main room and the Link equivalent of the point spiderman meme happens with you in the center with Time, who had been your dungeon buddy (he's laughing at them as every Link goes a little red after realizing they just followed you unconciously)

ur favorite thing to do is leaning down to whisper in each of the pointed hylian ears randomly, just talking about mundane or random things and watching it twitch, some trying to stay still like Time/Twi/Wars/Wild, while others leap away like u burned them lmao Legend/Hyrule/Four, and Sky managing to do both, trying to maintain composure before he inevitably breaks out all red and hides in his hands lmao

(Wind dared you to do it originally, and he snickers every time he sees you doing it again lol)

-

ok but the multiple languages is endless comedy gold

bc everytime a Link thinks he's got it or starts to listen then realize ur actually speaking smth completely different language

u get the most memeable faces of his confusion

like these gems

(four's blue is showing, he's offended u switched languages every other word one time)

they're actually so fed up lmao

☆

anyway sorry for late reply!! I hope u guys are having a good week so far, and ill try to post some more, tho cant guarantee when as the holidays close in for me

(rip my class is also getting near the end too im Stressin)

peace out anon,

🌙

[zaine-m]

Did anyone else not understand Viktor's conversation with Singed.

"Not fate, evolution. Natures greatest force, forever in flux"

"No. Evolution has a destination. Not to combat nature but to supersede it. The final, glorious evolution"

at first I kinda just saw this dialogue as a way to get Viktor to say glorious evolution but I think it's more to show how Viktor is already becoming the emotionless machine herald we see in the games.

Singed refers to evolution as a force of nature but Viktor refers to it as a force against nature. This is because singed is referring to the evolution of species through natural means whereas Viktor is referring to the evolution of science and technology, he doesn't even consider his body and the commune as a part of nature anymore, it's superseding nature. It's not even a direct fight between his biological body and the arcane upgrades. The arcane is painting over where his flesh used to be.

"But he isn't a specimen, he's a man and he needs my help. I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause"

He still sees the importance in humanity but I think it's in a way that is deeply separated from himself. He has already lost his humanity, maybe in a way where he can't even bring himself to want it back but he can still admire other's humanity and see the value in it.

At the end of the episode where he states that the very nature of humanity, emotion is the reason the commune failed is where we see his total separation from humanity.

I do think it could be argues that in this episode he still has his humanity in his relationship with Sky or his conversation with Jayce but I think that's more of an aftertaste of his humanity, a longing for an idea of what used to be there. It's not clear if 'Sky' is the real Sky, a figment of his imagination, or an image used by the Arcane to manipulate him but his relationship with Sky is a what could have been had he not been so disconnected from his humanity before. He has this idea of a relationship that he holds in his head without physically having her there, when she holds him he doesn't hold her back. Him wanting Jayce to see his accomplishments is just another way he longs to get back the humanity he had when he was working with Jayce.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Doctor, Doctor

Family is More Than Blood Masterlist

Summary: The tide is pulling you in and you are getting to weak to stop it.

Warnings: bad mental health, implied suicidal thoughts, implied past abuse, therapy, Sam is a good guy, non-sexual nudity.

Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.6k

The pacing was the only thing keeping you grounded. So you paced: 5 steps in one direction, then five steps in the other. Everything around you turned to white noise. Not that there were many people in the Avenger’s compound. The world seemed to be holding on by a thread as fires spread across the globe. The only people that could put out those fires were the Avengers. The team was spread worldwide, and since you weren’t part of the team, you couldn’t know the specifics. You had half the mind to hack into FRIDAY to get updated everyone. With the stress of not knowing how the team was doing, combined with the sleepless nights due to nightmares, you were on edge.

It seemed your mind and body had enough. You were at your wit’s end. Each night, your mind creates horrific scenarios of those you love. Your hands were covered with so much blood. Your mind was having a hard time separating your nightmare and reality.

Usually, you would ignore it, push through, and hope your mind would figure itself out. That was past you, and you were trying to be better. You wanted to enjoy the life you were living with the people in it, but you weren’t sure if you could do it on your own.

But admitting you needed help was a weakness, and a weakness meant death. Honestly, you were proud of yourself. The person you were now was leaps and bounds from who you were in the Red Room. Still, these habits were hard to break. His voice was still engraved in your head. “Hey,” you jumped at the sudden voice and the hand on your shoulder. You put your hands up, ready to fight. “Sorry,” it was Sam. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You seemed lost in your own head.”

“Yeah,” you put your hands down. “Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well.” His eyes scanned you over.

“Do you want to get out of the compound?”

“Please,” you said. If you weren’t so desperate for a distraction, you would have hated how weak you sounded. Sam smiled, and you followed him to the garage. The silence was comforting. Sam was special. His presence was calming, like a lifeboat in a raging storm at sea.

As he drove away from the compound past the small nearby town, he turned down a nonpaved road. You raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you taking me out here to kill me?” The man rolled his eyes.

“Please, like I could kill you,” he teased, sparing you a glance before focusing back on the road. “And if I managed to kill you. Natasha, Yelena, Alexei, Carol, and Melina would be on my ass. Nooo, thank you,” he paused. “I would never know peace.” You rolled your eyes.

Finally, he parked in a small lot. There was only one other car. You followed him out of the car and took a deep breath in. The air was crisp. It felt cleaner somehow. “Ready for a hike?”

“Are you going to be able to keep up?” The man glared at you.

“I don’t know why I try to be nice to you, Black Widows.” You chuckled.

“Come on, Sam,” you smiled. “I’m following your lead.” You followed him to the start of the trail. He filled the silence with stories from his childhood and his family in New Orleans. But most of the walk was spent in silence besides the crunch of the leaves and sticks at your feet. With each step you took, the weight on your shoulder seemed to disappear.

You smiled at the couple who walked past you on their way to the car. Soon enough, you reached the end of the trail and at the top of the mountain. The scenery around you felt otherworldly. The air was crisp and cool. In one direction, you could see the other mountains part of the range surrounded by green trees.

It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was a vast and brilliant blue. Birds were flying at your level. There was a beauty at the top that you forgot existed in this world. “So,” you looked at Sam. “Wanna talk about why you were pacing a hole in the ground?” You smiled and sat down on a rock.

“I don’t know, Sam,” you said. Some days, I feel like I have it together, like there isn’t this crushing weight, but recently, I feel like I can barely hold my head above the water. " You picked up a stone and threw it up and down. The tide keeps trying to drag me under, and I’m afraid. " You let the stone drop back to the ground. I might stop fighting so it can take me out to sea.”

There were so many dark thoughts that echoed inside your mind. On certain days, listening to those thoughts seemed easier than fighting them. “And I know,” you continued before Sam could speak. “That I have so many people on my side that support me and count on me, but I am so fucking tired,” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I just want it all to stop.” You admitted. “I mean, the world will keep spinning, right? Even if I’m no longer in it.”

You heard the man let out a low hiss. You weren’t suicidal, but it seemed easier. “Ours would stop,” Sam finally said. “Our world would stop spinning.” You reopened your eyes to see Sam walking towards the edge. “Have you ever been sky diving?” He looked over his shoulder as you shook your head. “I should take you,” he looked back at the view. “It is the most freeing and adrenaline-pumping thing a person could do. I love it.”

You stood up slowly and walked to stand next to the man. “I’ve been on a roller coaster, does that count?” He slapped you playfully. “Why did you ask me that?”

“In sky diving or even for us Fly Boys on the team, you have to have complete trust in the people that you don’t necessarily see,” you frowned, a little confused. You have to trust the pilot, trust the instructor leading the pilot, and trust the people who packed your gear that they did it correctly. Blind trust is terrifying,” he said and touched your shoulder.

Trust. So much of your trust has been broken. “Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you answered. The man smiled.

“Then trust me when I say this,” he took a few deep breaths. “I think you need to see a therapist, and I can find you a good one.”

“No,” you pushed his hand off your shoulder and headed back down the trail.

“Wait, ugh, hold on,” you heard him quicken his pace to catch up to you. “Look, I can’t imagine what that sick bastard put you and your sisters through, but I’ve lost someone because they couldn’t fight the tide. I will not stand by and watch it happen to you,” His confession stopped you and turned around to face him. “An old service buddy of mine,” he answered the question before you asked. “The weight of what happened over there got too much, and he let himself drown.” He took a few steps closer to you. “My mama said every soul that touches us leaves a mark - some as gentle whispers or bold strokes - but their imprints remain even when they’re gone. You’ve shaped our lives by being in it, and there is no going back.” You felt your chest tighten. Sighing, you placed your hands on your hips and looked at the ground.

“I trust you to find me a good one, Samuel,” the man laughed and put his arm around your shoulder.

“If I find you a good one, can I push you out of a plane?”

*

It was to disguise your trip to the city to check on a few Widows who had recently been exposed to the red dust. You felt bad about telling a white lie, so you visited a few of them; one was going to school, and another was starting a business. It made you happy that they were getting out of this life.

Now, you were sitting in Dr. Sabrina Hale’s lobby. Your leg was shaking, and you were gripping your jeans. You felt like you were going to be sick. Anxiety swirled in your stomach. Like Sam, you needed to believe in the blind trust of this stranger. “Hi,” you looked at the doctor. The woman was pite - her black hair was cut shoulder length, and her blue eyes seemed to have a caring presence. “My name is Sabrina. It is nice to meet a friend of Sam’s.” You introduced yourself and shook her hand. “Please come in.” You followed her into the office.

Her office was much bigger than you expected. It had a large window overlooking the city, and her wooden desk was in front of it. Next to it was a couch with a chair. In the corner, there was a small table with chairs covered with coloring pages and art supplies. The most striking detail about her office was how decorated it was. There were plants in every corner and pictures on the wall documenting her travels and her family.

“Sit where you are comfortable,” you sat on the couch. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she grabbed a travel mug from her desk and sat in the chair beside you.

“I will start off this session by saying that everything you say here is protected by doctor-patient confidentiality,” she said, crossing her left leg over her right.

“And if I don’t say anything?” Sabrina shrugged.

“Then we stare at each other for an hour in silence. Regardless, I still get paid,” you let out a dry laugh and stared out her window. “Sam told me you work with the Avengers, so I can guess whatever is haunting you isn’t pretty,” you scuffed, folded your hands, and rested your forearms on your thighs. “I tell my patients that you get out of therapy based on what you put into it. You need to want to be here. You want to get better.” Sighing, you stared at her.

She had a small smile on her face. Her eyes were so kind; they seemed to stare into your soul. “Do have any siblings? I have an older brother and a younger sister.” She was the middle child, and that made sense. Middle children were known to struggle with a sense of identity. Every piece of decoration showed you a piece of who Sabrina is. They also were known to rebel - her nose ring and sleeve of tattoos gave her away. But you snapped out of that. Sabrina was here to help you. She was not your target.

“Yeah, I have two younger sisters,” you smiled. “We aren’t related by blood.”

“Family is family,” she said. “Blood doesn’t matter.” You nodded and felt better that she had the same viewpoint as you. “Who annoys you the most?”

“Excuse me?” You were shocked by the question. Sabrina laughed.

“Come on. You are the older sister; your younger siblings must annoy you.” You chuckled and leaned back on the couch. She was right. It got on your nerves when Natasha left her pointee shoes lying around. Yelena had the annoying habit of putting her dirty laundry with yours so you would do it. You smiled again.

“They both do things that get on my nerves, but I love them.”

“I love mine too,” she said. “We got these tattoos together.” She turned her arm over to show you the artwork forever marked on her skin. It was like the work of three birds on a branch.

“Did it hurt?” You questioned. “The sleeve, I mean.” She watched as you looked over your sleeve.

“The first one did,” she answered. “After so many, you get numb to the pain.” Her blue eyes were watching you closely. Missing how your body tensed at the comment was not hard for her. “Are you numb to it all? After everything you’ve been through.”

You were unsure how to answer because you weren’t numb. You felt everything. Every hand that hurt you. Every bullet and knife slash that pierced your skin. That was why you wanted it all to stop. You shook your head. “I feel it all,” you whispered. “I wish I was numb to it all.”

“It’s good that you are feeling,” she told you. It means you can still be pulled back. You can be saved. The question is,” You watched her stand up and walk over to the mini-fridge. She grabbed out a small water bottle and walked back to you. “Do you want to be saved?” she asked while handing you the bottle.

She was extending an olive branch, waiting for you to take the first step—blind trust. Like sky diving, you needed to trust that everyone did their job to ensure you would survive. You wanted to be saved because there was so much life you wanted to see. You took the water bottle. Sabrina smiled and sat back down. “Good, the ball is in your court,” she said. “Lead me in whatever direction you want.”

*

“I’m going for a run,” you said while you entered the common area. Yelena watched you grab water from the fridge. “I’ll be back.”

“Do you want a running partner?” Natasha asked, but you quickly shook your head.

“It will be quick,” you smiled. “Figure out what you guys want to do for dinner.” You called out before putting on your headphones and left out the side door. Yelena frowned as you left. Twice a week, you leave the compound and go on a run. You went alone every time, no matter who asked you to join. Natasha walked over to the window, and Yelena got up from the couch to join her.

“She’s hiding something,” Natasha said. Yelena nodded in agreement.

“Do you think she’s cheating on Carol?”

“God no,” Natasha shot that idea down. “I just wish she trusted enough not to have to hide.” There was no way to hide the hurt in Natasha’s voice.

“She’ll come around,” Yelena smiled. “She always does.”

*

“Still hiding away, I see,” you rolled your eyes. You were video chatting with Sabrina for your weekly season. Your back rested on the tree trunk while you sat on the forest floor. There was a thin layer of sweat on your forehead from your run. “Why don’t you trust them with this?”

“I do trust them,” you defended. “I just-” you trailed off. It was one of the annoying things about Sabrina. She was patient - too patient for your fucked up mind. “I don’t want to seem weak.”

“Admitting you need someone to help you through your mind does not make you weak,” she told you. “I think it makes a person very strong.” You sighed and looked past your phone to the wilderness around you. “Trust is a thread that holds relationships together,” you looked back at Sabrina. The doctor was drawing in her sketchbook. It was something she always did during your sessions. You never asked what she was drawing, and she never showed it to you. She put the sketchbook down when she saw that you were looking at her. “When it frays, even those who care the most are left powerless to help. Doubting those who care for you builds walls, not of protection, and in the end, loneliness becomes your only certainty.”

“What are you getting at Hall?” You asked. The doctor was spinning a pencil in her hand.

“You are at a standstill,” she said. “You will not continue to heal unless you trust them with this side of you. But also trust yourself.”

“I do trust myself,” she looked at you like she did not believe you. The only way to survive in this world was to trust yourself.

“To an extent, yes, you had to trust yourself because who else would you trust? But I want you to trust yourself to be vulnerable and to feel weakness. You do not have to be the strong one all the time.”

*

Natasha’s door was open when you knocked on it. Yelena was on her bed while they were sharpening some of their knives. “Are you going to throw one of those at me?”

“Do you deserve to have a knife thrown at you?” Natasha questioned. You shrugged.

“Depends on who you ask,” you smiled and walked into her room. You found some space on her bed and sat down. Yelena handed you a knife and a sharpening tool.

The repetitive action of sharpening a blade was calming. It was nice to spend time with them. “Do you have something on your mind, sestra?” Yelena asked. You smiled and looked over the knife. Flipping it over, you stared at your reflection.

“Sam helped me find a therapist,” you decided to rip off the band-aid. “I’ve been seeing her for a few weeks now.”

“That’s great,” Yelena said. “I’m so proud of you.” You looked down, embarrassed by the praise.

“Why did you wait this long to tell us?” Natasha asked. You sighed and, when you were done, handed the knife to Yelena.

“Million-dollar question, right?” Natasha chuckled. “I guess I didn’t want to seem weak to you guys. Hell, not even Carol knows.” You picked up another knife to begin the process again. “I trust the two of you with my life,” you began. “But I’ve learned that I don’t trust myself to be vulnerable or weak. If I’m not the strong one, then what is my role? What is my purpose.” Natasha took your hand to stop you from sharpening the knife.

“You just have to be our sister,” she said. “That’s all we want.” You smiled.

“Sometimes I wish life was kinder to us,” you admitted. “We were far too young to be subjected to the darkness.”

“We got each other out of it,” Yelena smiled.

“The best thing to come out of the Red Room,” you joked.

*

You stayed awake until Carol returned from space. “Jesus,” she jumped when she opened the door to her room. “You scared the shit out of me.” You giggled and stood up from her bed.

“Sorry,” you smiled and closed the distance. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider me surprised,” she said, wrapping one arm around your waist while closing the door with the other. She pulled you flushed to her chest. “Hi baby,” you felt the words rumble from her chest. I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you kissed her cheek. “How was space?”

“Good,” she sighed. “Tiring, but I kicked ass and looked good while doing it.” You shook your head with a laugh.

“You always look good,” she covered her mouth as she yawned. “Come on, my captain, let’s get you to bed.” Carol shook her head.

“Shower with me first, then bed,” she kissed you softly. “I promise to behave.”

That was hard to believe, but you followed her to the bathroom. This type of intimacy and trust was new to you. Showering with someone was never slow and sweet. It was usually against your will, dirty, and fast. Carol taught you differently.

You helped Carol out of her tactical suit and kissed the new bruises that decorated her skin. While the water was warming up, she helped you out of your sleeping clothes. You stood in front of her—naked like the day you were born. It took time for you to be like this with her. The dark thoughts that invaded your mind and the scars that covered your skin made you believe you were undeserving of this soft trust.

You helped Carol out of her tactical suit and kissed the new bruises that decorated her skin. While the water was warming up, she helped you out of your sleeping clothes. You stood in front of her - naked like the day you were born. It took time for you to be like this with her. The dark thoughts that invaded your mind and the scars that covered your skin made you believe you were undeserving of this soft trust.

“Krasivyy (beautiful),” Carol mumbled. The words she knew in Russian were few, but she knew the ones that made you smile.

“No funny business,” you warned, pulling the Avenger into the water. She insisted on washing your hair first. The way her fingers massaged into your scalp made your body feel boneless. Once your hair and body were clean, you returned to the favor.

Carol hummed. “You have magic fingers, baby girl.” You chuckled and kissed her shoulder.

Once the soap washed off Carol’s body, you turned off the water and dried yourself off. You took some of Carol’s clothes to change into and climbed into bed. Instantly, Carol pulled you into her arms. Like with your sisters, you decided to rip the band-aid off. “I’m seeing a therapist,” you said. Sam found me one based in the city.” She put her finger underneath your chin and forced you to look at her.

“Do you like her?” You nodded. You liked Sabrina. She was annoying and got underneath your skin, but she forced you to face the hard parts of your psyche. “Proud of you, baby,” she kissed your forehead and hugged you tighter. Her fingers ran through your hair, bringing you closer and closer to sleep.

Carol was proud of you, as were Natasha and Yelena. It felt good to hear. “I love you,” you mumbled against Carol’s chest. The tide was all-consuming. You felt breathless and weak, but you were working on fighting the waves. You were proud of yourself, too.