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slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

Note

If your requests are still open, could you write one where Natasha got really drunk at one of Tony’s famous parties at the compound, and when R helps the Russian to her room. Natasha would ask R to stay tonight, which she does, and Nat reveals she has feelings for R? And then R is caught off guard and because of the alcohol in Natasha’s system, her walls are down and she’s emotionally vulnerable and disheartened because she thinks R doesn’t love her back? But R reveals she in love with her too and hopes she remembers in the morning. And Nat does and it’s a very fluffy ending. Please and thank you! I live your fics!!

Drunk On Love || Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst- ends in fluff; mentions of alcohol consumption; explicit language; intoxicated characters; mentions of painkillers. If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 9027 words.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon, I apologise it’s so late. I kind of went off topic with the request, so to the anon that requested this fic, if you would like me to re-write it more specifically to the request, I’ll happily do so. I hope you all enjoy! Please note this is an au so some character’s behaviours may be different to what is expected.

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Masterlist

*Italics/boldness indicate dialogue from the show the Reader and Natasha are watching.

‘Anna please, I-it’s not what it looks like! Me and Martha are-‘

‘What Daniel? Good friends? Platonic or romantic? God, you can’t even make your own mind up until you’re both under each other doing god knows what.’

‘Hey, that’s not fair. You know I loved you, yet you threw me to the curb like I was a piece of trash-‘

“You know what is trash, this show.” You remark towards Natasha as the two of you mindlessly watch TV after promising yourselves to have a relaxing, once in a lifetime day off from being world saving heroes.

Natasha glares towards the screen, concentrating on the drama unfolding in front of the two of you- and attempting to keep up with the current storyline of the show, “You’re the one who put it on, and besides it’s rather entertaining when you figure out what the hell they’re talking about.”

You laugh at her words as you shuffle further into the cushioned couch; throwing your feet up on the coffee table in front of you to replicate the optimum comfort position of complete and total relaxation, “In my defence, there was nothing else on and- wait Martha is walking towards the kitchen where Daniel and Anna are arguing!”

Natasha instantly grabs an Ash shaded pillow from beside herself to hug in support and in anticipation of the drama that is about to commence, “Oh god, this can’t be happening.”

Part of you notices the rare and yet delicate occurrence of Natasha being completely relaxed enough to let out this side of her. A side you often see and cherish; knowing your best friend trusts you enough to see what she’d consider and definitely deny to be her ‘soft side’.

However, escaping from your thoughts, you subconsciously drop your feet back to the carpeted floor as you lean forward towards the TV, losing yourself in the chaotic scenes on the scripted, yet somewhat addictive new reality show playing out.

‘Please, just hear me out-‘

Daniel’s plea is silenced with a deafening strike across his face-delivered by a vengeful hand belonging to Anna.

Having lost yourselves in the show, Natasha and yourself release a gasp in unison; not expecting the rather hysterical character to deliver such a harsh statement through her actions, opposed to her words.

As you study each pixel conforming on the screen in front of you with a newfound interest, you unfortunately start to pick at the skin encasing your nails- a nervous and unbreakable habit you have yet to overcome.

Natasha’s ears pick up on the telltale signs of your destructive actions, knowing the unique clicking sound resounds when you’re in deep concentration or in deep trepidation in concern with something.

“Y/n/n, you’re doing it again.” Natasha gently scolds your habit, causing you to snap out of your TV induced trance and notice your now red and broken skin. You silently curse yourself as the irksome stinging sensation makes itself known on your now raw skin.

Natasha shakes her head as she guides her gaze back to the TV screen, “I thought you were using that nail polish I gave you to stop you from dissecting your nail beds?” You groan at Natasha’s question, knowing she’ll refuse to drop the topic now that she is aware of its occurrence once again.

Harvesting a deep breath, you center your tone before answering the red head, knowing she’s only trying to support you, “I did… but I ended up picking it all off during Steve’s latest briefing on our upcoming mission schedule.”

Natasha smirks at the irony of your conflicting actions with the mechanism designed to refrain you from messing with your nails entirely, “Okay, I’ll cross that one off the list as a failure. What about using bandages across your nails?” Natasha moves through her mental list of ways to help you kick your unwanted anxious habit, knowing it’s becoming an insecurity of yours.

In sync with Natasha, the two of you raise your feet from the ground and bury them underneath your bodies as you move to address each other further, “I tried that one already, they just irritate me throughout the day. Plus Parker thought it was double-sided tape and had the audacity to think I was replicating his ‘sticky fingers’ situation.”

Natasha lets out a low chuckle at your statement, though not hesitating to guide her amused gaze towards your stern one.

However, only a few seconds pass before the two of you break out into laughter; never having a dull moment between the both of you.

“Well, I know one technique we haven’t tried if you’re up for it y/n?” Natasha says evenly, keeping her gaze locked on yours.

You can’t help but fidget under her gaze, long forgetting the show on the TV, but happily becoming lost within Natasha’s ethereal sea of green irises, “W-what is it?” You practically whisper, studying her face intently as you await her suggestion.

Natasha silently reaches for one of your hands, delicately brushing over your skin as she encases her hand with yours in a supportive manner.

You watch her actions in surprise, sure you’ve held hands with her before, but this time you’re convinced that the initial touch of her skin on yours was electric.

Natasha gently pulls the hand taken towards herself to place on the cushion obtained earlier, “This way, if you try to do it again, you’ll have to go through me in order to do it.” Natasha says with a tilt of her head, attempting to ignore but most likely enjoying the heated blush working its way up your neck and across your cheeks from her actions.

You attempt to stagger out a response, knowing your feelings for Natasha are ever increasing, yet part of you wants to deny them in fear that she doesn’t return your affections- in turn the current situation is proving that task difficult. Natasha isn’t exactly the most open book of all, deciphering her feelings towards others is a challenge in itself.

Having words fail you, you allow yourself to bow your head slightly and escape her curious gaze. What she’d do to have a moment to hear your thoughts on her outgoing movement- little did you know, her heart is near enough hammering out of her chest, fearful that you’d reject her motion of love in the most subtle way she can ponder without giving you an opportunity to outright decline her care.

“Y/n-“ Natasha finds it within herself to push you for an answer to silence her tormenting thoughts. That is until she hears the bellowing voices of Yelena and Kate travelling down the hallway and into the living area where the two of you are currently occupying.

Your gaze snaps towards the former Widow and Archer, loosening your hand away from Natasha’s in fear of creating a tense, yet ecstatic questioning session from Yelena at the contact-knowing Yelena is desperate to see you and Natasha become a couple. You’d hate to create a false sense of hope, not only for Yelena, but for yourself too.

Though, Yelena has never shied away from creating ‘coincidental’ circumstances of you and Natasha being paired up for every training session; team task and missions. That cannot work wonders between the fears surrounding rejection surging through Natasha and yourself; but it has made you somewhat closer.

As you turn yourself on the spot to give the two women your undivided attention; you fail to see the flash of hurt run across Natasha’s features at your effort to distance yourself from her in the presence of her Red Room Sister and Kate. Her hands now feel cold from the loss of your warmth that she so desperately craves.

Kate takes quickened steps to reach the back of the couch before Yelena, who wanders over with her hands nestled in a pair of the many pockets decorating her impressive and rather practical hunter green vest.

“Hey guys, what are you two up to?” Kate asks curiously as she goes to lean across the back of the cushioned couch to spy what plays on the screen central to the room.

You smirk as you go to reply to the Archer, “Oh we’re just watching some lame show-“ Before you have a moment to finish your explanation, Kate eagerly and enthusiastically interrupts your words.

“No way! You’re watching ‘Heartbreak in New Asgard?! I love this show!” Kate exclaims as she attempts a graceful clamber over the backing of the couch to lumber herself in between you and Natasha.

You groan in discomfort as she uses a tightened grip on your head to assist herself over- allowing Yelena’s disturbed gaze to land on her disheartened sister, “Sestra, are you okay?”

The saddened features tainting Natasha’s face snap back into that of a stoic nature, displaying an unreadable resting face for the Widow, shielding herself from further pain of sympathetic questioning she’d rather escape, “I’m fine, why are the two of you here?”

Natasha quickly dismisses Yelena’s concern, sending a pang of turmoil through the blonde assassin with her miserly tone. However cryptic Natasha may be, Yelena never fails to notice a shift in Natasha’s demeanour; though she also knows never to push Natasha to open up, she’ll come to her when she’s ready- she hopes.

Yelena clears her throat as she eagerly moves her gaze away from Natasha, “Kate Bishop and myself are planning on working on some well needed combat training. Isn’t that right, Kate Bishop?” Yelena teasingly directs towards her newly acquired friend, knowing Kate’s impressive and enhanced Martial Arts are in no way of a comparison to Yelena’s extensive Red Room training-yet.

Kate moves to rest her elbows on her knees, leaning forwards in fondness of the show commencing, “Huh? Yeah, yeah sure whatever you say Yelena. Sounds awesome.” Kate mumbles out in response, not caring to take in the conversation playing out between the Widows, but directing her entire attention on her favourite guilty pleasure.

You wave a hand in front of Kate’s face, laughing at the way her vacant expression signals out your action to follow along the show, “I think we’ve lost her.” You announce, causing Yelena to groan.

“Ugh, you are impossible Kate Bishop.” Yelena lets out, knowing a mass effort will now be required to remove Kate from her current area of fixation.

“Anyway, we wondered if the two of you wanted to join us. You can see how well I kick Kate Bishop’s ass. My current record is under two minutes.” Yelena proudly announces to Natasha and yourself; secretly hoping it’s enough to entice the two of you to join the training session.

You go to respond positively to the question put forward, until you catch Natasha’s eye; part of you wonders if the furrowed gaze is begging you to reject Yelena’s offer and stay with her a bit longer. Having a sudden urge to bask in the lone company of Natasha, you conform your answer.

“Thank you Yelena, but Natasha and I are having a chill day so no training is allowed- Romanoff’s orders.” You say in a light manner, hoping to not offend the younger Widow, but assert your promise to Natasha.

Natasha releases a relieved sigh, though she adores Yelena, she knows she has a better chance of moving things forward with you if the two of you are alone.

“Sestra, maybe another time we can see your self declaration of superiority over Kate’s skillset.” Natasha addresses Yelena, hoping no offence has been caused towards her sister on her part.

Yelena can only smile in response, knowing her offer was likely to be declined in favour that the somewhat undetected, yet mutual pining between her sister and her friend would advance into something more.

“I’ll hold you to that Sestra.” Yelena moves to bring Natasha into a heartfelt hug; striking the opportunity to whisper supportive words into her Sister’s ear in the hopes that she will lift her dismal mood.

The words remain unintelligible to you, until your attention is peaked from Yelena blowing a wave of nuisance air into Natasha’s ear; causing the redhead to shove the blonde away with an amused mumble of ‘grow up’.

Yelena chuckles in giddiness, never passing the opportunity to tease her Sister in the most troublesome way she can muster to think of, “Okay Sestra, okay we’ll get going and leave you to whatever this is-“ Yelena waves a finger between Natasha and yourself, earning an eye roll from her Sister; “Come on Kate Bishop.” Yelena attempts to remove herself and Kate from the situation.

Kate waves Yelena’s words away with a dismissive hand, “Shhh, it’s getting to the good part. They’re about to make up.” Kate lets out with her enrapt gaze remaining upon the TV.

Yelena releases an unamused sigh as she goes to lift the Archer up by the purple collar of her combat gear; causing Kate to follow the forceful tugs from the couch she wishes to remain on.

Kate releases several protests of annoyance at Yelena’s incessant tugs; grasping the message that it was in fact time to leave.

You and Natasha shake your heads at Yelena’s antics, she never fails to amuse the two of you.

Just as the two women move to leave the room and bid you a goodbye, Tony Stark decides to grace the room with his presence.

Yelena moves to nudge Kate, stifling a laugh enough to let her words out, “Oh, look Kate Bishop, it is the grown man that I made cry the other day. How exciting.” Yelena teases, never one to shy away from putting Tony in his place from his vulgar words.

Tony firmly shoves his hands into the compact pockets placed on his custom made jacket, giving his throat a clear in the process, “Belova, a pleasure as always.” He sarcastically remarks as he moves towards the couch; ignoring the shared amusement being vocalised by Kate and Yelena on the way to their destination.

Tony removes one of his hands to bring it towards your head, ruffling your hair into an unwanted mess as he goes to address you, “How’s my favourite Avenger doing on this fine day?” Usually when he directs such a title to yourself it’s because he wants something from you- you dread to think what it could be this time.

You groan in irritation as you slide away from his vexing movements, “I was okay until you showed up Tony.” You grumble as you try to style your hair down from its now hectic state, courtesy of Tony Stark himself.

Tony smirks in response, loving the practical sibling rivalry the two of you unknowingly created from your friendship.

As Tony is an intelligent man, he knows not to replicate his actions of greeting with Natasha, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to display an unfriendly manner to his pestering ways.

He nods his head in Natasha’s direction in greeting, “Widow.”

Natasha folds her arms with a gentle sigh in response, “Stark.” She simply lets out, loving the way she can intimidate Tony with just her presence alone.

You stare at Natasha in wonderment, “Okay, you’ve got to teach me how you do that.” You say in reference to the successful taming of Tony that Natasha can so easily manage.

Natasha smirks in pride, grasping onto that small essence of rendering you stunned. That is until Tony invades the conversation.

“You love it really, y/l/n. Anyway I have some very exciting news to share with you y/n.” Tony announces as he rubs his hands together in motion of hyping up his upcoming statement.

You twist your facial features slightly in curiosity, and a mixture of hesitancy, “Oh god, what have you done now?” You question in uneasiness.

Tony scoffs at your words, “What makes you think it’s something bad, in fact I am offended at your negative tone towards my ingenious idea-”

Natasha picks up the conversation from her point of view, “In all fairness Stark, as of late, your plans have ended in complete and utter chaos- no offence.”

Tony waves a dismissive hand towards Natasha, “Offence taken. Anywho, before I was rudely misjudged, I’ll tell you what I need you for. Tonight I’m throwing a totally kick-ass, ‘you have to be there’ party and you’re coming; no arguments.”

You drop your mouth in protest, “Wait, what?! No way, why?!” You practically stutter out, failing to recall even putting your name forward for this extravagant idea.

Tony rolls his eyes as though the reasoning would have become obvious to you upon revealing his request, “Okay, I may, or may not have announced that you’d be a guest of honour per se to show off our newest Avenger to some of the board members at some new, rival tech company trying to out-do my image. Regardless, your ass better be there or I’ll have J.A.R.V.I.S wake you up every morning at 2 am for two months.”

You shake your head in annoyance, “Not like I haven’t been on the team for ten months already.” You mumble alongside a dramatic shift of your body and folding of your arms for good measure.

Tony shrugs at your statement, “You win some, you lose some kid. Widow, you are of course invited, and by that I mean you have to be in attendance also.”

Natasha widens her eyes as she goes to object to Tony's offer, “No, I was serious when I told you I would not attend anymore of your ridiculous charades that you so adamantly hold for no reason. I’m not going; in fact, I have plans.” Natasha simply claims.

The ending of her statement catches your attention, causing you to snap your gaze towards Natasha in a questioning manner- she hasn’t mentioned any unknown plans throughout the entirety of the day.

Tony smirks in a mocking manner, “Let me take a wild guess and put forward that it will include something as mind-blowing as your current activity of choice. I would never have thought you’d stoop so low as to resort to watching trashy TV on a weekday Romanoff.” Tony clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times to add to his disapproval of Natasha’s refusal to go to the party scheduled.

Natasha shrinks into herself lightly, choosing to contain the thought in her head that she may or may not have been considering catching up on the series later on in her room, “…no, plus y/n put this on. I’m not interested in the slightest.” Natasha firmly rejects the idea of being engrossed with the show, avoiding suspicion.

You turn to Tony with a smile, knowing that if you’re going down in regards to Tony’s party, Natasha is going down with you, “Don’t listen to her, it’s her most favourite show in the entire worl-“ Your exaggerated statement is put to a halt once you feel a firm strike to your chest, originating from Natasha’s pillow being swung towards you in hopes of silencing your teasing.

“That’s enough out of you y/l/n.” Natasha playfully scolds, grabbing the pillow once more to place back on her lap.

Tony shakes his head as he attempts to refocus the conversation, “Romanoff, I can assure you that this party will be one to remember. For all the right reasons of course; give me one more chance to prove it to you. If I’m wrong, I’ll even watch whatever monstrosity is captivating you all so much on the screen. What do you say Widow?”

Natasha bites her lip in thought, part of her wants to join in on the fun of having the team together for some drinks and a bit of dancing. Though she also wants to have an easy night as previously planned with you.

Tony attempts his best pout, unintentionally putting Natasha off the idea more with his odd choice of convincing.

You reach over to nudge Natasha’s knee with your hand to gather her attention, allowing her gaze to fall to you, “I’ll definitely go if you go. That way we can still hang out together and control the hectic levels of fun I’m sure Stark is so desperate for us to have.” You say lightheartedly, hoping to convince Natasha to join you.

Natasha thinks on your words for a moment, deciding that a night in your company will be perfect, no matter the setting.

With that notion in her mind, she gives you and Tony a nod of approval, “Alright, I’ll be there.”

If only Natasha knew what she was getting herself into.

———-

*The Party*

You harshly throw yourself down into a sitting position on one of the many couches decorating the frenzied, yet remarkable party playing out within the Compound.

Through your heavy actions, you earn a distasteful glare from Yelena as she mumbles several curses in Russian before addressing you properly, “Watch yourself y/n, you nearly made me spill my beer; this jacket isn’t cheap you know- well so the guy told me as I stole it from him-“

You raise a surprised eyebrow at her words, earning an eye roll from the blonde, “Oh come on, I am totally kidding… well not entirely, I needed information, he wouldn’t give it to me, blah, blah you know how the story goes.”

You let out a light laugh at her words, failing to see where the story was heading, and opting for the safe option of not asking anymore questions in regards to the topic- the less you know the better, “Sorry Lena, I’m just exhausted. I’ve been here for forty minutes and already I’ve had to display fake smiles; engage in exasperating small talk and in all honesty I’ve lost count with how many strangers I’ve had to shake hands with to please Tony Stark himself. That man is a nightmare.”

Yelena smiles at your dismal tone, allowing your features to cross in confusion, “What?” You ask.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Let’s just say Stark has a surprise waiting for him in his room upon his return, courtesy of Kate Bishop and myself, that he will truly hate, and in your current predicament, I think you will love.” Yelena proudly takes a mouthful of the bitter and intoxicating beer in her grasp- revelling in the knowledge that through the shared boredom of her and Kate they can produce the most mischievous plots known to the existence of the Avengers.

You release a satisfied breath at Yelena’s cryptic words, allowing a surging happiness to course through your system that all this hassle will be worth it by the end of the night- you hope.

“See, I knew I liked you for a reason Belova.”

Yelena hums in acknowledgment, “What is not to love, I am pretty cool. Though, something tells me I am not as cool as Natasha-“

Without even moving your glance towards Yelena, you send her a warning jab with your elbow, earning a menacing chuckle from her as she goes to take another sip of her beer.

Before another word can be uttered, Wanda and Kate take a seat on the opposing couch- having collected their choice of beverage to get them through the night. You give them a nod in greeting as they direct quick ‘hello’s’ towards you; having seen Maria Hill quickly making her way towards your newly formed group.

“Hey, have any of you seen Carol? I’ve literally searched the entire Compound and I cannot find her anywhere.” Maria frustratedly lets out.

Wanda tilts her head in thought until she opens her mouth in realisation, “Oh, yes she is currently challenging Thor to an arm wrestling match. They’ll be on the third floor most likely.” Wanda reveals with a smile, hoping to ease any worry within Maria.

Maria groans in annoyance, “Of course she is, man she’s a hard one to find when you need her. Um, how do you get to the third floor again?” She asks unsure, knowing the Compound is like an endless maze thanks to Tony’s continuous modifications of the building.

You gather yourself up to stand by Maria, readying yourself to point an arm out to direct her gaze to the concealed staircase used to access the third and fourth floor.

Before you can verbally direct Maria, your eyes land on quite potentially the most magnificent sight to ever be graced upon you.

Natasha slowly makes her way into the colossal room, allowing her viridescent eyes to roam the guests dancing and mingling their way across the open space.

Her image is flawless; her wine red and signature hair perfectly reflects the multitude of colourful lights that easily roam their way throughout the room; her chosen outfit entailing a ravishing black dress that hugs her body to an impeccability that can only belong to Natasha Romanoff herself. However, the detail that traps your attention most is the cherry shaded lipstick blanketing her addictive, plump lips.

Having noticed your engrossed state, Wanda takes it upon herself to guide Maria over to Carol herself; biting her lip at the blaring thoughts your mind can conjure in appreciation for Natasha’s goddess capabilities.

The nearing of clicking heels snaps you out of your own mind, as Natasha spots you from a far and eagerly makes her way over to you.

You allow yourself to close the distance at a heightened pace, refusing to withstand another second without Natasha being near you.

Through your diverted attention, you frustratedly stumble towards Natasha; who luckily stabilises you with ease, “Oh, careful y/n. I’ve not even been here for ten seconds and you’re already falling for me.” Natasha teases with a smirk.

You quickly compose yourself and mumble a ‘thank you’ towards her before finding your voice, “You wish Romanoff.”

Unbeknownst to you, she truly hopes she has such an effect on you.

Filling the silence, a sharp pain strikes you at the back of your neck, producing a grimace from you as you notice a metal bottle cap drop to the floor, beside your foot. You turn to the direction of its supposed origin- noticing the impressed faces of Kate and Yelena at the obtaining of your attention.

“When you are quite finished drooling- I mean talking to my Sister. Would you be so kind as to fetch us some more drinks.” Yelena taps her empty bottle in emphasis of its now drink-free state.

You roll your eyes with a shake of your head at Yelena words, turning your sight back towards Natasha who is failing to stifle a laugh at Yelena’s teasing, “I swear I’m going to kick Barton’s ass for teaching Kate that bottle cap trick.” You rub your neck in a soothing motion from the strike inflicted by the Younger Archer.

Natasha hums in agreement, knowing Clint has the tendency to show certain members of the team the more rebellious tricks opposed to the ones instructed for delivery by S.H.I.E.L.D.

“So, can I get you something to drink? My treat.” You remark, knowing it’s an open bar and hoping to catch a smile from Natasha.

She doesn’t disappoint as her alluring smile forms at your offer, “Hmm, surprise me.” She responds, earning an unexpected ‘oh’ from you.

“I’ll be right back, Miss Romanoff.” You take your leave to collect the drinks requested by your closest teammates; hoping to rush back so you don’t get dragged across the room to meet another one of Tony’s guests that he insists you greet.

Natasha watches you go before finishing her journey to the area of couches you were occupying before her arrival.

As she goes to sit down in a vacant seat, she intentionally ignores Kate and Yelena, who in their less than sober state have taken it upon themselves to replicate yours and Natasha’s conversation- with some additional kissing noises and outrageous flirtation that has Natasha contemplating in the not so subtle act of bashing their heads together, in hope of knocking some maturity into them- hope being the key word.

Luckily for you, but not so lucky for Natasha, a rather giddy and lightheaded Tony makes his way over to her; having made thorough use of his own open bar.

“Widow! Natasha! There you are, I have been searching all over for you, you little minx.” The little filter that Tony had in the first place has completely shattered with each dose of alcohol that he has consumed over the party’s duration.

Tony shuffles over to the seat next to Natasha, causing her to move over quickly to avoid Tony’s lack of awareness of his surroundings to cause him to unintentionally sit on her lap.

As he snuggles his way into the seat, he nods his head towards Yelena and Kate, not caring to strike up a conversation with the two, “Now, Romanoff, part of me thought you’d be too, well your earnest self to attend my little shindig.”

Natasha decides to entertain Tony in his current state, knowing he’ll soon move on once his boredom reaches its peak, “Oh really, why is that may I ask?”

Tony sways his movements slightly to turn towards Natasha, intaking a deep breath to keep his thoughts in check, “Well, to put it quite simply Widow; you’ve lost your touch. You’re not as fun and exciting as you once were. We want the old Romanoff back-“ Tony interrupts himself with a strike of a firm hand towards his leg, directing attention to his apparent plea.

Natasha scowls at Tony, “What are you talking about? I haven’t lost my ‘touch’.” She attempts to defend herself, forgetting that Tony’s mind is not of sober thoughts.

Just as Tony goes to open his mouth once more, you arrive back to the area; passing over Yelena’s and Kate’s drink as they mindlessly take them from you, having lost themselves in their own conversation.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You ask cautiously, noticing the unnerving glare Natasha is directing at Tony- who seems completely unphased and unaware of the impact of his words.

“Oh, just telling Widow here how boring she is now, and how we’re all glad she could join us.” Tony rambles on, attempting to grab at the chilled beer in your hand that you gathered for Natasha.

You swiftly pull it away from him, “Tony, stop being an ass. Nat is probably, actually no, is the most entertaining member on this team. Natasha and boring don’t mix.” You effortlessly defend Natasha, knowing insecurities of her impression towards the others has come up in conversation. Yes, Natasha is a confident woman, though the inflicting damage caused by the Red Room still infiltrates her mind in cruel and vile ways in which she feels as though she has to change the person she was created to be, to be the one the team loves and supports.

Tony obnoxiously blows a surge of air through his lips in disbelief, “Please, we all know I am the most interesting member present. I mean, take this example for instance: if we got a rock, a plain, ordinary rock, I would find it highly taxing and difficult to differentiate between Romanoff and this boring rock that I somehow acquired.” Tony loses himself in his mindless babbling.

You look over towards Natasha, feeling your heart pang in turmoil at her disheartened features. All of her tormenting worries are being announced right in front of her; assisting in the miserable tears cascading down her face.

You go to reach out for Natasha before she abruptly stands up and removes herself from the scene.

The sudden action captures Yelena’s attention, filling her with concern for her sister.

“Nat? Sestra!? What is going on?” Yelena loudly questions, noticing your fuming gaze towards Tony.

Tony sleepy looks over each member present, completely unaware of the hurt caused by his stupidity in the moment, “Since Romanoff has left us in such a hurry, can I have her beer?” Tony reaches out once more for the drink furiously clutched in your hand.

You choose to slam the bottle down on the table placed in front of the couches, not caring over the alcohol now tainting the surface, “You’re lucky you’re not wearing it Stark.” You harshly direct towards Tony, opting to leave and find Natasha in hopes of consoling her.

Yelena watches the scene unfold in puzzlement, Natasha has never walked away in such a manner before, allowing her to conclude that Tony has struck a nerve with her.

Tony lazily moves forth to claim the unattended beer; ignorant to the enraged stares being directed towards him by the two younger Avengers.

——————-

You don’t know how much time has passed, but in the duration you’ve failed to locate Natasha.

With endless apologies and light shoves, you make your way through the crowded room; eyes scanning frantically in hopes that you’ll find Natasha and attempt to fix the mess created by Tony.

Frustration gets the better of you, as you rub your hands across your face to centre yourself, you’re running out of not only ideas, but places to search.

As your hand moves to cover your mouth, you spot Wanda, Maria and Carol clambering in a drunk manner up a set of stairs; releasing bouts of roaring laughter as they desperately clutch onto each other to avoid a nasty fall.

With your luck thinning out, you push your way towards them rapidly, considering the possibility they may have seen Natasha.

“Guys, have you seen Nat?” You breathlessly ask, feeling the effects of not only the exertion to travel throughout the compound as quickly as your legs can take you, but the rising heat of the hectic room.

Carol pouts in thought, “Urm, Nat? Which one is that again?” She asks Wanda and Maria, who find her fake confusion comedic.

“Carol-“

“Oh, the one with the shield huh? Or is it the bow and arrow set? I can’t quite remember-” Maria dazedly asks you, struggling to maintain focus on your features as she sways towards Wanda for stability.

“Can you all stop acting like complete and total jackasses and answer my question?!” The raise in your voice snaps a partial moment of sobriety into them.

A flash of red passes through Wanda’s irises as she attempts to assist you with her mystic abilities, “She’s at the minibar, you know the one where Thor stores the Asgardian liquor?”

Your eyes light up at Wanda’s answer, finally being one step closer to finding Natasha, “Wanda, you’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much!” You shout as you jog towards the specified location.

You make it across to the minibar in record time, refusing to waste one more second. As you release that final push through the remaining guests that stand in your way, that’s when you find yourself witnessing the rather destructive behaviour Natasha is displaying.

She readies herself another shot of what can be presumed to be one of Thor’s many alcoholic delights that decorate this area of the room.

With one quick swirl of the liquid filling her miniature glass, she releases a breath and quickly downs the shot in one; barely flinching at the burning sensation making its way down her throat.

As you near Natasha further, the drunken features that have progressed are obvious: her usually impeccable posture is slouched across the bar as she desperately raids the supply available to her; her eyes are glazed with a depressive shine- a battle between the red strain of her tears against her vivid green eyes highlights her sorrow further.

Just as Natasha goes to pour herself another drink, you place your hand slowly across the opening of the glass; preventing her from serving another round of regret and earning a scoff from a displeased Natasha.

“Move your hand, I won’t ask again.” Natasha grumbles, her voice carrying a huskiness to it that is most likely from the continued burn of each drink she has ingested.

You use your hand to slide the glass away from her and across the bar, “Natasha, maybe you should slow down. I know you’re upset, but Tony had no right to-“

Natasha staggers back more forcefully than the two of you would have expected, causing you to reach out to keep her in balance, “God y/n, I’m fine. I’m doing what I’m supposed to at parties, getting wasted and having fun. Since, I-I apparently don’t know what that is-“ Natasha rambles on her drunken words, quickly dismissing your concern.

You sigh at her state, hating the fact that she truly believes drinking her problems away will bury them- though they always find a way to re-surface, usually in the morning with a hangover on the side.

“Nat-“

Natasha shakes her head to silence you, “No, I didn’t ask for your help or your pity. Now you either join me and have fun, or you can go away.” She releases a heavy breath at her own words, knowing the alcohol is catching up with her and flooding her bloodstream.

As you move to grab the bottle Natasha is choosing to hug close to herself, a tightened grip is placed on your shoulder, “Ahhh, there you are Widow, we missed you over in our little corner-“ Tony decides to implement himself in an unwanted scene.

Natasha picks up the bottle of liquor and takes an immense gulp from its contents as she storms away from Tony. You try to follow her, until Tony stops you once more, “That reminds me, I need to introduce you to-“

You audibly groan at Tony’s incessant disregard for Natasha’s feelings, “Tony! I do not give a fuck about who you want me to meet. I’m trying to clean up a mess that you caused since you’re clearly too self absorbed to deal with it on your own tonight-“

Tony turns his features down in a rare calmness, seemingly taking your sour words towards his behaviour.

That is until Yelena rushes towards you, “Y/n, where’s Natasha!?”

“She was just here until-“ Your words are drowned out by the thunderous beat of the speakers placed around the room, as they begin to blast out a steady beat belonging to the iconic song ‘Hypnotize’ by The Notorious B.I.G.

Tony releases an ear-splitting set of whistles as his eyes land on the scene that the crowd around you eagerly rush towards.

As Yelena and yourself look towards your left, you’re met with quite frankly a horrifying scene of Natasha hoisting herself up on a steel table.

Without a second thought, you rush towards the edge of the table. Having to listen to the crowd now encouraging and cheering Natasha on for her drunken performance.

Natasha effortlessly moves to the beat resounding throughout the Compound, playing up to the chants of her name as she swings her arms in calculated movements to the rest of her body.

Each sway of her hips allows her to sink further into her routine, losing herself in the music.

Yelena attempts to catch Natasha’s attention, though the music easily overpowers any protests made, not that Natasha would listen to reason anyway.

Natasha rubs her hands across the darkened material of her dress, accentuating her features concealed by the tailored covering.

You can only watch in disbelief from the side, mortified that the situation has escalated so quickly.

As the music continues, so does Natasha’s movements. She picks up in confidence and drops her knees to surge back up into a twirl, earning a chorus of cheers.

As Natasha drops to her knees completely in front of you, she uses her focused gaze to study you; choosing to thrash her arms and body in rhythmic ways. You shake your head at her behaviour, especially when she chooses to caress your face with a gentle hand before pushing it away suddenly, attempting to get a reaction out of you.

Failing to do so, Natasha shrugs and manoeuvres herself back on her hands and knees, using the flat surface of the table to assist her movements easily. She lazily lets her hair dangle down as she continues to move her body to the music.

With a forceful flip of her head, she resumes a standing position, allowing her feet to mindlessly move for her. Though, the surrounding crowd heightens as the song goes on, causing spillages from glasses to splash wherever they may please. Natasha’s foot catches on a spillage of Vodka, causing her to slip off the table.

You instantly unfold your arms and catch her before she can hit the floor. The crowd failed to notice her fall, too engrossed in the music and atmosphere.

Natasha wraps her arms around your neck as you attempt to stand her up. However, from her drunken state and constant twirls, her head takes a turn for the worst and sends her vision spinning. She chooses to fully relax into your arms, refusing to stand.

Yelena grabs Natasha’s arm in order to pull her up some more, “This is not like her at all, I do not know what to do.” Yelena announces, worried for her Sister.

“Lena, I’ll look after her and make sure she is okay. You go find the others and try and get everyone to go home.” You offer to Yelena, knowing her increased worry may not be the best for the situation regarding Natasha currently.

Yelena nods and gives you a grateful smile; briefly hugging Natasha before making her way across the room.

Having time to ground herself, Natasha stands up slightly. You move a steady arm under her as she wraps one arm across your shoulder, giving her the guidance needed to stagger out from the crowds.

As Natasha is incredibly unsteady on her feet, her constant sways and staggers resort to you practically carrying her to the elevator; deducing that stairs to the Avenger’s living quarters may not be suitable for Natasha at this moment in time.

Taking the last steps towards the elevator doors, you tighten your grip on Natasha as you use your free arm to press the ‘call’ button for the elevator.

In the distance the music slowly dies down, allowing you to hear Natasha’s words, “That was such a good party, we should do more things like that, huh y/n/n.”

You find yourself agreeing with Natasha, hoping to keep her awake enough and in light spirits to make the journey back to her room easier.

As the doors open, you guide Natasha forward, until she refuses your help and leans against the bar fixed onto the wall of the modern elevator. You make a point to stay close to her, knowing her confidence in her own balance is greatly misjudged.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, can you take us to the living quarters level please?” You input your desired floor choice to the A.I. system, receiving confirmation.

“No, let’s go up to the roof, the stars will be out and we can look at each and every one of them.” Natasha slurs out.

You shake your head at her words, “I think what you need is sleep.” You direct towards an unimpressed Natasha.

She pouts her lip in challenge at your words, “Well maybe sleep needs me, did you consider that y/n?” Natasha asks seriously, causing you to chuckle at her confusing remark.

“I do apologise Nat, how silly of me for not considering that option.” You play along, allowing Natasha to rest her head on your shoulder at your agreement.

“Mhm, very silly. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S, did you see me dance?” Natasha sleepily questions the A.I. as the elevator shifts in movement to journey upwards towards the correct floor.

“Indeed Miss Romanoff, it was rather… splendid.”

Natasha closes her eyes and beams at J.A.R.V.I.S’ words, earning an eye roll from you, not forgetting the stress it caused to Yelena and yourself.

As you arrive at the designated floor, you whisper to Natasha in order to not disturb the serenity created from the sudden silence, “Hey, we’re here.”

Natasha intakes a sharp breath through her nose as she goes to move forward, though this time she reaches out for your help- which you gladly provide.

You pace yourself towards Natasha’s bedroom door, only experiencing the odd trip from her unsteady feet.

Once you make it, you’re stopped by Natasha’s curious questioning, “Why are we here? This isn’t my door.”

You frown at her words, “What do you mean? This is your door Nat.”

Natasha shakes her head defiantly, “No, this isn’t my door, my door is charcoal coloured.”

You look towards the charcoal door in front of you, smirking at the realisation that the alcohol isn’t done influencing Natasha’s serious nature.

“Well if it isn’t your door, who’s is it?” You question.

Natasha studies your face intently, quite possibly attempting to gauge an answer from you, “Hmm, I guess we’ll never know.” Natasha sighs out eventually.

You hum in agreement as you input Natasha’s passcode on the Lock Screen sealing the door- having exchanged each other’s passcodes for any late night visits the pair of you have picked up on along the months of your ever-growing friendship.

Once the code is accepted and a successful beep is heard, you push down on the handle of the door and enter Natasha’s well organised room.

Natasha gazes in astonishment at the tech, apparently never having seen it before- rejecting the possibility of her daily use of the tech to enter and lock her own bedroom.

As she slurs out her pure amazement at the action carried out, you guide her into her room and gently allow her to sit on her bed, moving to switch on the closest light.

As the desk light partially illuminates the room, Natasha flinches at the bright source, grumbling some curses at the pain straining her eyes.

She uses her hands to rub at her eyes in an attempt to work out the pain, unknowingly smudging her once perfectly kept mascara across her eyes.

As she looks up at you, you notice her make-up predicament and move towards her en suite to fetch several make-up wipes to remove the excess marks now smeared across her face.

“Come here.” You say as you sit next to her, guiding her gaze towards you as you gently move the damp wipe across her face delicately.

Natasha closes her eyes and relaxes into your movements, not having the energy to do much else and feeling the initial buzz of the alcohol wearing off.

As you continue to clear her face, she mumbles out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“What for?” You speak gently as you concentrate on your task.

Natasha opens her eyes once she feels your movements stop, reaching for another wipe to remove her lipstick, “For looking after me, for always being there for me. For being you.” She lets out slowly.

“Always Nat, you’re one of the most important people in my life, I’d do anything to be there for you.”

Natasha’s head suddenly lolls to the side, causing you to put your hands up either side of her to prevent her from falling until she steadies herself- tiredness settling in.

As a few seconds pass for Natasha to regain herself, she speaks once more, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier when you tried to help me.”

You wave a hand to dismiss her words, “Don’t worry about it, you were upset and Tony was being an asshole. I get it.”

As you go to bunch the used and now dried out make-up wipes, Natasha suddenly finds herself asking, “W-would you maybe stay the night?”

Her eyes widen momentarily in fear of rejection, until you smile at her words, “Yeah, of course I will.”

Natasha feels a bubbling of excitement in her stomach, with having you taking care of her and willing to stay, she uses her missed opportunity from earlier in the day to fuel her newfound confidence from what she can only assume to be the alcohol, “Y/n, I have feelings for you. Not like a best friend kind of way, more of a I want to spend every waking minute of everyday loving you kind of way.-“

You freeze in your place, never expecting those words to ever leave Natasha’s mouth- of course you’ve hoped for them, but to hear them out loud is everything you could have dreamed for and more.

Unfortunately for Natasha, she doesn’t have insight to your mind and fails to notice the now heart fluttering thoughts bursting with the idea that Natasha reciprocates your love clouding your mind.

Natasha retreats into herself, silently scolding herself for being so careless with her emotions. How could she be so naive to think you’d feel the same way, she should have never assumed you’d automatically understand her love for you. She should have never got into this state because now she could have cost herself your friendship.

Natasha continues to torment herself, unwillingly reliving the haunting lessons and words originating from the Red Room itself.

That is until you speak up, “Natasha, I have feelings for you too-“

Natasha meets your gaze with tear filled eyes, to which you instantly move closer to wipe away any that dare to escape.

She can’t help the sobs that escape her, pure relief of knowing you feel the same way about her as she does for you.

You steadily bring her into a hug, choosing to shuffle the two of you back towards the headboard of the bed and seeking a more comfortable position.

Natasha moves herself to lay against your side as you draw soothing circles across her arm. From the mixed emotions of the night and the alcohol, it was bound to end in tears, she’s just thankful to have you here to comfort her.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way.” Natasha sniffles out, causing you to give her a reassuring squeeze.

“Nat, I’ve always known how much I love you. Everything about you is so captivating. You never fail to make me smile or laugh; you’re always there for me when I need you. You make me want to be the best version of myself Natasha. I know I’d be lost without you, because without you Nat, life would lose all meaning. You give me so much to look forward to, it was just being able to hang out with you and see your mesmerising smile in the morning; that or some sarcastic remark that I should probably take offence towards but you’re so quick witted, I’ll let it slide. Though now, I get to look forward to so much more, like-“

You choose to look down and come to the realisation that Natasha is asleep, soft snores sounding from her as she uses half of your body as a designated pillow.

Refusing to disturb her peacefulness, you relax your body into the mattress and allow a form of slumber to overcome you, not before whispering a soft ‘goodnight’ to Natasha, finally knowing that the woman that stole your heart all those months ago, is the woman you’ll happily love for the remainder of your days.

———-

A soft heat spreads across your cheek as your eyes flutter open from the sunlight that trickles through the gaps of open blinds across the room from you.

In your sleepy haziness, it takes you a moment to register your surroundings, until the events of the previous night come rushing back to you.

A slight shift from the woman beside you catches your attention, as does the sticky note attached to her shoulder. You slowly move to peel it away, successfully not disturbing Natasha as you move to read the note.

‘It is about time you two declared your undying love for each other!

Y/n, thank you for taking care of Natasha and always being someone we can all rely on.

Sestra, I have left some painkillers and water on the side for your undoubtedly raging headache- and yes I will be back in the morning to remind you of all the embarrassing things you got up to.

Lena. ’

You smile at the handwritten note, looking over to see the stated painkiller and water combo for Natasha’s awaiting hangover on her desk- Yelena must have come in to check on Natasha after everyone went home.

Your thoughts are disturbed when a rather groggy Natasha speaks, “My head feels as though the Hulk himself has played football with it.”

You chuckle at Natasha’s words, loving the way she snuggles further into your embrace. As you are about to ask Natasha how she is feeling, she beats you to the mark with her own question.

“So, you love me huh?” Natasha suddenly asks.

You look down to see her eyes now fixated on your face, “I wasn’t sure if you would have remembered.” You let out, relieved beyond compare that Natasha recalled the conversation from the night before.

“Of course I do, when you love someone for all that time and they say it back; you make a point to remember it y/n/n.” Natasha smiles up at you, admiring your beauty up close, desperate to stay in this moment forever- despite the throbbing head and burning throat.

“Now, if you really do love me, then you’ll get me some painkillers and-“

“Already taken care of.” You pass Natasha the note left behind by Yelena. She squints furiously as she attempts to decipher Yelena’s note, widening her eyes and closing them several times to work the tiredness out of them.

Natasha groans in displeasure once she reaches the end of the note, “Oh god, was I really that bad last night?” She asks as she uses the note to cover her embarrassed features.

You tilt your head in pretend thought, “Well… yes, you were very soft and it was quite the experience but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Natasha playfully smacks your arm, moving herself to hide her head under her pillow to mumble out a false ‘I hate you’.

You laugh as you remove the pillow from her face and lean down to see her, taking care not to disturb her pained head too much, “I love you too.” You reply in the same manner as Natasha, allowing her to lean up and place a soft, yet well worth the wait kiss on your lips.

As you pull away, you fail to disguise the blush spreading across your face; using Natasha’s tactic of using the pillow to shield your face from her teasing manner.

A few stolen kisses; many whispered ‘I love you’s’ and unlimited heartwarming hugs later, you could finally admit that life couldn’t be more perfect.

It’s safe to say that you’re officially drunk on love.

————————

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vogelfreyh · 1 year

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Finally came around to create a small character sheet for Ash! My OC Hogwarts Legacy/Wizarding World OC, Auror and Sirona’s wife.

I didn’t include much text on the sheet itself, but if you’re interested in her background, keep reading under the cut!

Born: 15th of August 1861 in Edinburgh, Scotland Nationality: British Gender: Female Blood Status: Pure Blood Height: 174 cm (5'8) Eye colour: Brown Hair colour: Ashen blonde Sexuality: Lesbian Occupation: Auror (1881) Lead Auror (1888) Family: Allan Crowley (Father) Ophelia Crowley (Mother) Philomena Crowley (Great grandmother) Sirona Ryan (Wife ⚭ 1892) Kelly (Adopted daughter, 1898) Saoirse (Adopted daughter, 1898)

Early Years & Family Relationships

Aislinn Crowley, called Ash, was born in Edinburgh as the daughter of the famous aurors Allan and Ophelia Crowley. Her family was extremely toxic and strict and had high expectations of her. Like most members of her family, she was supposed to serve in the Ministry of Magic and marry into a good family. As a result of this pressure, Ash often felt caged and inferior even as a child, and her relationship with her parents was hardly of an affectionate nature. Even Ash's bubbly personality, as well as her quick temper was viewed with suspicion by her family, and they never stopped preaching to her about the way she had to behave.

Due to their work, her parents rarely had time for her and employed a witch named Mimsy to take care of their daughter and raise her. Tragically, Mimsy passed away when Ash was just thirteen years old. Also in her teens, her parents had little more than rules and set future plans for her and made her feel that all that mattered to them was the family's reputation and that no one stepped out of line. Ash had a hard time tolerating family gatherings and from an early age was labeled the black sheep of the family, especially after she revealed to her parents that she was a lesbian.

After her successful entry into the ministry and taking up work as an Auror, Ash's reputation with her family improved a little. This only lasted until her parents arranged a marriage for her with a highly respected Ministry wizard, whom Ash rigorously refused. While her parents knew of her relationship with Sirona Ryan, they did not accept it. Ash, however, made them understand that Sirona was the only one to whom she would ever take the vows of marriage. That was the moment when she ultimately broke with her family and the relation between them finally crumbled. They never spoke a word to each other ever again.

Personality

She is a kind and life-affirming character who comes off pretty self-confident and tough most of the time. She’s also very justice-loving and protective of her friends. If she overheard people talking bad about someone she liked, she sometimes would react very emotional and has been seen punching some of her classmates because of that.

Due to the toxic and judgmental nature of her family, she has learned to mask her fears and insecurities and only dares to drop her mask with a few people. She suffered from sudden anxiety attacks. This got better after she became friends with Sirona.

Hogwarts Years

By the age of eleven, Ash received her Hogwarts letter and soon after came to start her first school year, where she was sorted into Gryffindor. Thanks to her kind and bubbly nature Ash quickly made friends, including the fellow Gryffindor Ruth, as well as Ravenclaw Sirona Ryan, with whom she literally collided during her first broom flying lesson.

Ash proved herself to be very skilled and talented in the subjects Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Transfiguration but had difficulties with Herbology and Potions. Especially in the subject of potions she ran into more and more problems during the school years, mostly on account of the fact that most of the potion ingredients made her feel nauseous. On one occasion, it was so bad that she had to throw up right into the cauldron. Sirona was still laughing about it years later and affectionately teased Ash about it.

Ash was on very good terms with Dinah Hecat, her teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, who also gave her extra assignments and helped her prepare well for her future career while she was still in school. Even as an adult and after many years, Ash still maintained a friendship with her.

Since Ash needed at least an "Exceeds Expectations" in Potions for her N.E.W.T.s to qualify for Auror training, Sirona actively supported her and the two practiced day and night. As a result, Ash managed to get the required grade in the subject. Potions actually was the only subject in which she did not have an "Outstanding".

Ash & Sirona

Ash and Sirona first met when they literally crashed into eachother during their first broom flying lesson. After realizing that nothing bad had happened to them, they couldn't help but burst out laughing. This moment marked the beginning of their relationship.

The two quickly became inseparable and from that moment on hardly ever spent a minute without one another. Their understanding for each other worked even without words and they shared their deepest secrets and dreams. When they were together, they didn't have to put on a mask and could be themselves without being judged for it. They studied for exams together and played pranks, often to the annoyance of their classmates and teachers. Ash helped Sirona through a very difficult period in her life and supported her in pursuing her most ardent goal, even though it was anything but easy. Sirona was deeply grateful to have her at her side and always described Ash as her kindred spirit. They were also very protective of eachother and not seldom Ash got into fights when classmates talked bad about Sirona. Since the age of 14, her and Ash jokingly referred to each other as the 'other half' of one another. Over the years, their friendship had become so profound and intimate that many classmates described it as love, even before the two realized it themselves. But soon it was a thing they knew for a fact- they loved eachother and they had become the most important person in the other one’s life.

Ash usually spent her Christmas vacations with Sirona and her family, since her own family never celebrated any holidays. She was well liked by Sirona’s parents and always welcome in their home. As the years went on she rarely went back home to her family in Edinburgh, and rather stayed in Hogwarts for her holidays. She also spent the summer vacations together with Sirona in Hogsmeade, where the two of them waited tables at the Three Broomsticks and Sirona dreamed of one day owning such place by herself.

By the time their seventh school year drew to a close, Ash had completed all of her N.E.W.T.s with an "Outstanding" thus qualifying for a career as an Auror. She was excited, but she also knew that it would mean leaving Hogsmeade and Sirona, who was in the running to succeed her as the owner of the Three Broomsticks, for at least three years.

Their naïve dream of spending their future as a couple in a small cottage near Hogsmeade was slipping further and further away, but the stakes were high.

After a tearful parting and a promise to never lose sight of each other, Ash leaves for London to face her Auror training.

Over four years, apart from Sirona's few allowed brief visits to the ministry, they communicated only through owls. But sent eachother a letter at least every two days.

Ash learned that by a stroke of luck, Sirona had become the proprietress of the Three Broomsticks and was now managing the pub single-handedly. Ash, on the other hand, had passed her Auror training with distinction and had already made a name for herself during her first years by taking on an important mission. The two couldn't be happier for each other, but they missed each other terribly.

After a few years, the Ministry of Magic allowed Ash to leave London for the first time and she immediately set off for Hogsmeade. Sirona could hardly wait for her to arrive and as she finally stood in the doorway of the Three Broomsticks, they knew their love for each other was just as strong as the day they parted. If not, even stronger. Overjoyed they celebrate their reunion, making plans for the future. However, due to a dramatic incident, Ash is called back to the Ministry only a few days later. An association of dark wizards, who until recently worked underground, have taken the offensive and are now threatening not only the world of wizards and witches, but also the Muggle world. All Aurors were called back to London for immediate action.

Throughout this mission Ash is badly wounded in an ambush after tracking down the leader and barely survives. But thanks to her taking action, the rest of the Aurors manage to confront and kill their leader, Silas Vandalore.

When Sirona heard that Ash had been seriously injured, she immediately travels to London to be with her, fearing for her beloveds life. Back in the day, she often worried for Ash and was afraid to read her name among the obituaries in the Daily Prophet. To her great relief, however, Ash is strong enough and survives her injuries. However, the curse had left a mark on her and the doctors make her understand that she would hardly become as strong as she once was and that the remaining power of the curse would slowly drain her life energy. Later, she is given a special potion brewed by her old potions professor Aesop Sharp that would help slowing down the process of the curse and and allow her to live a relatively pain-free life, if she drank the potion on a regular base.

After withdrawing a little from the ministry and succeeding Dinah Hecat as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ash and Sirona finally settle down together in a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade like they always dreamed to. They get married in 1892 and continue to live a happy and fulfilled life together. In 1898 the two adopt two little girls, whose families had been killed by black wizards, Kelly and Saoirse, and raise them as their daughters.

Auror Career

In 1878, Ash began her Auror training in London. In the beginning she had a hard time adjusting to the new situation and life, but within a few months she had fully adapted and three years later completed her training with distinction. Just a few weeks later, she embarked on her first mission, where she would meet the hit wizard Aiden Langley, with whom she would remain close friends for many years to come. Working together, they uncovered a circle of notorious black wizards, escorted them to Azkaban and made a reputation for themselves within the Ministry.

In 1888 Ash takes the position as a Lead Auror within her department.

During 1889, when several cases of brutal murders involving Muggles and wizards occur all over Britain, Ash takes up the case and comes across the trail of a massive organization that has made it its goal to exterminate Muggles and all non-pureblood wizards and witches. As they have members all across the country, Ash sets out to find and turn in the leader, who, to the dismay of the wizarding world, is a former Hogwarts professor also not unknown to herself. Silas Vandalore.

She confronts him in Edinburgh, where he imprisoned and tortured a Muggle family. However, she is ambushed and gets severely injured by Silas with a curse. Langley finds her in time and takes her to St. Mungo's, where she continues to fight for her life several months. Deeply worried, Sirona travels to London and does not leave Ash's side, fearing that she might eventually lose her. Fortunately, though, Ash is strong enough and survives. However, the curse has left a mark on her and the doctors make her understand that she would hardly become as strong as she once was and that the remaining power of the curse would slowly drain her life energy. Later, she is given a special potion brewed by her old potions professor Aesop Sharp that would help slowing down the process oft he curse and and allow her to live a relatively pain-free life. She retains her position as Auror, but increasingly works in the background. When Dinah Hecat retires, she takes over as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, where she taught students up until she hit her sixtieth birthday and passed on her position to her successor.

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kivaember · 3 months

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re: drabbles: i would be interested to see any kind of take on what life in the PCA is like; the EKDROMOI and HC/LC-HM duos in particular always seemed like funny Just Guys Being Dudes dynamics

OH I LOVE IDEAS LIKE THESE... i ended up just going on a ramble dear god... uh i hope you enjoy! a bit of worldbuilding for PCA and RLF (with a surprise Flatwell mention!)

Thanks for the prompt!

When Erik had been handed his posting for Rubicon-3 (or "ISB2262" as most within the UEG knew it), his first dismayed thought had been: i've hit a dead-end in my career.

See, the PCA were not viewed favourably within the UEG's pilot corps for a multitude of reasons, ranging from their infamous reputation as "space cops" to the fact that their direct chain of command was an actual, literal AI called The System, and whom many within the PCA spoke of as if she was their divine god that had descended from heaven itself to guide them.

Also, there were no glorious battles with the PCA, no chances for winning spoils of war during inter-corporate conflicts or achieving swift promotions by looking good at the right moment. All you did in the PCA was sit on some quarantined rock - normally out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere - and weren't allowed to take souviners or salvage anything profitable from the surface. It was basically guard duty but for years.

At least with guard duty on solar colonies you had some form of civilisation to visit. On Rubicon-3? Civilisation had been razed into nothing but ashes after that catastrophic industrial accident almost fifty years ago, and the remanents were just a ragtag group of stubborn colonists who refused to relocate because this is our home! Nevermind that their home was basically a hole in the ground full of contaminated soil.

Needless to say, Erik's expectations had been low when he reported to the PCA's main base on Rubicon-3. The planet had looked ugly when he came in, the atmosphere riddled with enough chunked up asteroids to make navigating the mess an absolute nightmare for the autopilot and what little surface he glimpsed looking grey and lifeless. The oceans looked good, at least, but Erik didn't have gills, and he doubted he'd be spending any time on their blasted-out beach resorts.

His expectations had been this: he'll sit in whatever passed as their guard room watching the live feed from their defence satellites, bored out of his mind except for moments of fleeting excitement when some wildcat miner came barrelling towards the planet in delusional hopes of striking it big with a Coral deposit. The nights would be long, the days even longer, and he'll be cold, miserable and wondering when he'd be posted out so his career could start again.

Instead, reality had been this: piloting the most advanced MT he'd ever sat in, wielding the most powerful weapons he'd ever laid hands on... yet trapped in an endless struggle against ye olde BASHO ACs on a near regular basis like he was in Hell and this was the ordeal he was condemned to endure for the rest of his afterlife.

The Rubiconian Liberation Front. Erik had heard of them back on Earth when he was in the UEG's main pilot corps, but no one had thought them as any serious threat. Just a group of colonists who had hijacked a construction MT or two and occasionally threw rocks through the PCA's figurative windows. They weren't a real threat. They were just civilians with guns. They'd be scared off easily just by shooting a few warning shots their way.

Wrong.

They were like rabid racoons that refused to leave the PCA's dumpsters. Almost every night, Erik and his squad would be crashed out when the perimetres alarms would trip, and almost every night he'd be chasing after RLF ACs and MTs running off with whatever the hell they could carry. Telephone poles. Copper wires. Vehicles like jeeps or vans. One of them had ran off with a fucking HVAC system once and to date Erik was still baffled about that.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was him.

Middle fucking Flatwell.

The RLF leadership was a bit strange, but every PCA pilot knew of Flatwell. He was a Gen Three and had been part of the Rubiconian militia as a qualified, albeit green, AC pilot when the Fires had hit Rubicon. Guy was likely pushing seventy and still piloted rings around the PCA like he was bioengineered in some fucking lab somewhere to be the bane of their existence.

The System - their chain of command, their AI - knew everything it could dig up about Flatwell. His AC schematics, his habits, his history, his fighting profile and even including some interesting yet bizarre factoids like 'has a legitimate Earth citizenship due to successful seduction of a high-ranking Arquebus executive' and 'suspected illicit affair with an intelligence officer within Arquebus HQ', which meant not only was Flatwell a demon in the AC, he was a demon under the sheets too, forbidden knowledge that Erik could've gone without knowing.

But forbidden knowledge or not, the simple fact was: Flatwell was a damn good pilot, and most of the PCA pilots were just average.

In high-tech MTs and using even higher tech weaponry, sure, but still average. But, when Erik had been new to the post, had been dazzled by these amazing MTs and beautiful plasma weapons, he'd charged headfirst into a fight against Flatwell without hesitation, ignoring The System's soft bleat for him to use caution.

Needless to say, Erik had totalled that shiny MT and ended up ejecting before even a full thirty seconds had passed. Guy was fast.

Fortunately, however, the PCA were a lot more forgiving when it came to totalled MTs. Back in the UEG that would've come straight out of Erik's paycheck, as all repair bills did (he was still paying off his previous repairs... just thirty more years and he'd be debt free!) - but the PCA had brushed it off. Turned out they had a pretty sweet fabrication system and could churn out MTs in the hundreds within hours. Where they got the raw materials for that, Erik wasn't so sure... but the PCA were a branch of the UEG, so it was probably legitimate and not at all illegal or suspicious.

(One of the first rules you learn in the PCA: do not think too deeply about how it functions for legal reasons)

But, while the posting was leagues more exciting than he had initially believed, and incredibly more dangerous, his initial dismayed thought still held true: it was a career killer, because here was another, hidden rule he hadn't known until his boots were firmly on Rubicon-3 and his transporter was flying away from the planet:

Once you're on Rubicon-3, you die on Rubicon-3. No transfers, to retiring, no early-release. The PCA's mission was lifelong and no amount of bellyaching or protesting wold change that. Erik had been sprinted through the five stages of grief before he accepted his grim fate.

Maybe he had died on the way here, he had thought. Maybe this was his punishment for contributing directly to the voracious war machine that was the UEG... how many unionised workers had he killed over the years? How many colonies had he visited to stomp down on burgeoning independent movements so corporations didn't lose a source of revenue? How many had he stomped down on, just for his own continued comfort within the callous galaxy that humanity had made for itself?

Rubicon. It really made you think about these things. Erik slowly began to understand why the PCA's relationship with the RLF was how it was. Yeah, they crashed out every night, and yeah, sometimes Flatwell was there waiting for them, but most times...

Erik would crash out with his squad and only chase the thieving RLF a few miles before breaking off pursuit. He told himself there was no point. What they stole could easily be replaced within a few days. It wasn't as if they were stealing weapons or whatever. If they wanted a fucking HVAC system or a bunch of telecommunication wiring that badly, then they could have it. No skin of Erik's nose, and the PCA didn't bill him for failure to retrieve stolen goods.

He didn't sympathise with them, and the RLF certainly didn't sympathise with the PCA. They killed a lot of each other over the years Erik had been posted here, and Flatwell was particularly merciless. But.

They were both stuck on this planet, either willfully or not. They were both on Rubicon-3 for the long haul, and one way or another, they were gonna share the same fate: they were going to die here, eventually.

They were never going to leave this razed shithole.

#armored core #armored core 6 #fanfic #middle flatwell #some worldbuilding stuff with pca and rubicon #thank you for the prompt!#it was very fun :)

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the-pen-pot · 1 year

Text

Convivial

Summary: Merlin is propositioned. Arthur intervenes.

------

The problem with feasts, Merlin thought with some annoyance, was that it did not take long for various members of the nobility to slide down the slippery slope from "convivial" to "raucous". For all their fine breeding, once the wine started flowing it seemed all manners went out of the window.

Generally speaking, Uther did not tolerate his nobles meddling with the servants. It was more because he thought such behaviour beneath his courtiers rather than out of any regard for the safety and happiness of the castle staff. Still, the King did not have eyes everywhere, and his various lords and ladies took the view that what Uther didn't know couldn't hurt them.

That was how he found himself here, pinned into an alcove in one of the hallways by Lord Bancroft. The cold stone of the castle wall dug into his back as the lord's body pressed against his front from shoulder to hip, all hard muscle and harder... other things.

It was not the first time Bancroft had cornered him, but before, he had kept his torso braced and distant in a faint parody of respect. All Merlin had to do was duck under his arm, make his excuses and be on his way. Clearly, he had learned from his mistakes, and now Merlin could barely breathe as Bancroft's whispered words poured into his ear like hot ash.

'I would treat you well. Smother you in gifts and riches. If you were my bed-mate, you could have anything you desire. You would only need serve me on your back.'

Only on my back? Merlin thought. That's not very imaginative.

If this was some idiot down the tavern, he would have already kneed him in the fork, but if he defended himself against a noble then there was a good chance he'd end up in the dungeon for his troubles. It would be his word against theirs: self-defence versus an unprovoked attack, and he knew who Uther would believe.

'My Lord,' he said, quiet but firm. 'Release me.'

'You must grow tired of tending to the needs of the Prince – serving him day and night from what I hear, and with little thanks for your efforts. Or perhaps he grows tired of you. He has seemed more... distant... of late, and someone else served him at the feast tonight. You should be with a man who appreciates you.'

Merlin grimaced, swallowing hard. He had not realised that anyone else had noticed that he and Arthur had been more stilted with each other. It was his own fault. He was the one who had finally found the courage to tell Arthur about his magic. While he was glad he had not sent him to the pyre or banished him into exile, Merlin missed the easy friendship they'd once had and the trust Arthur had given him. Some days, he wondered if he would ever get that back.

It seemed even Bancroft had noticed and had chosen his moment to strike. His promises all sounded as sweet as a songbird, but it was also absolute bullshit. Bancroft was a good-looking man, but his reputation brimmed with brutality. When his latest favourite lost their shine, they instead seemed to collect bruises. Hadn't his last mistress died after taking a nasty tumble down some stairs?

Now, he'd decided he wanted Merlin. Not, he suspected, because of the way he looked. Instead, it was about his status. If Bancroft could steal him away from Arthur – Prince and heir to the kingdom – then it would be a feather in his cap when it came to the gossip of the court.

'It's my honour to serve Prince Arthur in whatever way he asks of me.' Which sadly did not involve time spent between the bedsheets, but Bancroft didn't need to know that. 'Now let me go.'

'I think not.'

Merlin wasn't sure what was worse, the writhe of his tongue as he thrust it into Merlin's mouth, or the sudden, painful grind of Bancroft's hard cock against him. For a split-second he froze, paralysed by his surprise before anger surged – a cresting rush of prickly heat that fountained through his chest and filled his head with its buzz.

There was no room to pull back his fist for a punch, but it was the matter of a moment to bite down hard on Bancroft's tongue. The hot copper taste of blood flooded his mouth as Bancroft reared back with a yell, clamping his hand over his lips as he glared at Merlin through the curtain of his tumbled fringe.

Quick as a snake, Bancroft drew back his hand, ever muscle coiled to slam his fist into the side of Merlin's head. Except the blow never came. Instead, he froze, his body locking up in surprise as a familiar voice came from behind him.

'Enough, Lord Bancroft.'

Merlin closed his eyes in disbelief, cursing his dreadful luck. Of everyone to find him like this, it had to be Arthur.

He shifted to the side, his gaze darting down to the point of Arthur's dagger where it pressed over Bancroft's right kidney in emphasis. Arthur's face was like granite, utterly unyielding and devoid of emotion. Only his eyes gave him away, snapping with anger. 'You are clearly the worse for drink. It has affected your judgement and allowed you to forget the covenants of the court. The servants are not to be used for your pleasure.'

Bancroft's face twisted into something ugly, and the wine he'd consumed had clearly dismissed any good judgement he might have once had. 'Of course not, Your Highness. They are reserved for your use, I suppose?'

The leering innuendo couldn't be more obvious, and Merlin rolled his eyes in disbelief. It was a cheap blow, and nothing he or Arthur hadn't heard before. Normally, Merlin shrugged it off and Arthur feigned complete ignorance, delighting in the discomfort of his courtiers when they tried to explain what they meant. This time, though, Merlin caught a glimpse of something as it flickered over Arthur's features: a shadow he could not name, there and gone again.

'Merlin chooses who he beds, Lord Bancroft, and I believe he's made his answer to your invitation more than clear.'

There were some men who could take rejection with grace. Unfortunately, Bancroft wasn't one of them. Merlin could see the bloom of fury in his eyes: a harsh, illogical rage. For one appalling moment he thought he might attack Arthur, but when he lunged, it was in Merlin's direction, his fist raised and his face thunderous.

It was the matter of a moment to step to one side, using the man's momentum against him. Merlin's fingers tangled in those curls and slammed Bancroft, hard, against the castle wall. The man dropped like a stone, his eyes rolling up in his head and his body falling limp.

'Well done,' Arthur managed after a moment's stunned silence. 'Is he dead?'

He sounded supremely unbothered by the prospect, and Merlin scoffed, shaking his head. 'No, he's still breathing.'

'Pity.' Arthur sighed, sheathing his dagger back in his boot before he looked Merlin over, his gaze lingering on his rumpled clothes. All trace of humour fled his face as he stepped forward, one hand reaching out in an aborted movement before falling back to his side. 'Are you all right?'

Merlin grunted. 'I won't be when he wakes up. He's going to go straight to Uther. I'll probably end up in the dungeons for my trouble.'

'No, you won't. You were assisting Lord Bancroft – who had overindulged – back to his bed. Unfortunately, he stumbled and headbutted the wall.'

'Who's going to believe that?'

'Everyone, if I'm the one saying it.' Arthur folded his arms over his chest, lifting his eyebrows as if daring Merlin to argue. A moment later, he glanced along the corridor, dropping his voice to nothing but a murmur. 'Besides, bruises are easier to excuse than accusations of magic. I assume you didn't' – He wiggled his fingers back and forth in the air – 'do anything?'

Merlin sighed. 'No. He was too close. He would have seen.'

'Right, well. We can't leave him here. Grab one arm and throw it over your shoulder. We'll take him to his chambers.' Arthur bent down to take Bancroft's other arm, and between the two of them they dragged him to his feet, bracing themselves for a long, clumsy stumble through the castle.

No one interrupted them. Most people were still at the feast, and the few guards on duty knew it was not their place to ask. When they finally dumped Lord Bancroft on the bed, Arthur stepped back with a sneer, letting out a breath before grabbing Merlin's shoulders and steering him out of the room. 'Don't worry. If he wakes up squawking any accusations in court, we'll make sure he regrets it. And Merlin?'

'Yeah?'

'From now on, I expect you to stay at my side during feasts.'

'But, George...'

'There's only so many jokes about brass I can stand.'

Merlin drew in a breath. He knew better than to keep pushing. Arthur was rubbish at apologising, even at the best of times, but he had learnt to read between the lines and find what he wasn't saying. This was an olive branch of sorts: the first step to bridging the distance that had yawned between them since Merlin's confession, and he seized it gratefully.

'Yes, Sire.'

------

'Wear this.' Arthur tossed something shiny at Merlin as he walked through the door to the Prince's chambers. He dropped the clean laundry he had been carrying in order to snatch it from the air, huffing a protest at the resulting mess.

'Prat. You did that on purpose.' He held up the medallion, which was not much bigger than a coin and strung on a leather cord. His breath caught when he recognised Arthur's personal heraldry: not something of Camelot, but a design that belonged to the Prince alone. It was etched, not stamped, suggesting something carefully commissioned rather than made in haste. 'What's this for?'

For a minute, he thought Arthur might fob him off with an excuse, hand-waving away any need to explain. He could see the temptation to do just that in the crease of Arthur's brow, but in the end, he leaned back against his desk, his folded arms the only clue to his tension.

'There's another feast coming up. Hopefully, considering how Bancroft left Camelot in disgrace after last time, the other nobles will have some common sense. However, if one of them should try anything while you're wearing that, I can at least call them out in the duelling ring.'

Merlin wet his lip, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side as he looked at Arthur. His faint suspicions about what, precisely, Arthur had given him crystallised into certainty, but he needed to hear it from his own lips. 'And why's that?'

'Because...' Arthur sighed, straightening up and stepping closer, reaching out to curl Merlin's fingers closed around the pendant, securing it in his grasp. 'It marks you as my favourite and places you under my protection.'

Merlin stared, half-hypnotised by the press of Arthur's hand over his own and the cool metal of the necklace quickly warming in his palm. The incident with Bancroft happened more than a month ago; he had thought it forgotten. 'People will talk.'

'People already talk.' Arthur looked down at their joined hands before glancing up at Merlin through his lashes. This time, there was no missing the flash of something hot and longing in his eyes, hastily stifled.

It was not the first time, these past few weeks, that Merlin had caught a glimpse of that same emotion. Initially, he had told himself it was nothing but wishful thinking. Then, he had started to hope. Now he looked at Arthur and wondered how he could ever have missed it.

He went to draw back, but Merlin tightened his grip, holding Arthur in place as he prayed to whatever gods might be listening that he was not misreading the situation. Nervous butterflies thrashed in his stomach as he dredged up his courage, untangling his voice from the briar of his own fear as he shifted closer, reducing the distance between them to little more than a hand-span of space. 'Would you like to give them something worth talking about?'

He watched the way Arthur's eyes darkened at his implication. The tip of his tongue was a glimmer of pink as he licked his bottom lip, and Merlin followed its path with his gaze, helpless.

When Arthur spoke, his voice was hoarse, as if he longed to smother the words in his throat but had to speak them anyway. 'You don't – you don't have to do this. There's no price for this, Merlin. I don't expect anything of you.'

'And what if I want to?' Merlin asked. 'What would your answer be then?'

He waited, his heart in his throat and his whole body humming with possibility. He could neither move forward nor retreat, not without Arthur’s permission. He had made the offer, and it was Arthur's choice what happened now.

He did not have to wait long.

A tiny hint of pressure from Arthur's hand was all it took to close that final space, his answer not spoken, but rich and heady in the heat of his lips over Merlin's own, dizzying and perfect.

Yes, said the kiss, the first of many. Now and always, yes.

#Merlin #Merthur

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

Text

“Devil's Bait”

Summary: Na’vi Y/N and Sully’s kids have been used for one of Bridgehead’s experiments. The Sky People are trying to get to know and team up with the Ash People, but to do that they must find out how big of a threat they are. To test their theory, they use them. But Quaritch isn’t happy about that.��

(This is my interpretation of the Ash People so far)

WARNINGS : ANGST, violence, guns, shooting, tears, death

SIDE RANT: IF QUARITCH OR LYLE AND THE FEMALE LEADER OF THE ASH PEOPLE BECOME LOVE INTERESTS I AM GOING TO FUCKING CRY.

Masterlist

Word Count: 4800

(Songs fitting to this that helped me imagine the scenario: brutal - Olivia Rodrigo, Dog Days Are Over - Florence + The Machine, Run Boy Run - Woodkid)

I was told hell was not a place on Earth or Pandora. That it was somewhere further down and one could only go there when one wasn’t alive.

But now, I’m starting to think the Sky People have brought it with them and it's slowly swallowing Pandora, like a never-ending void.

As kids, we were all told stories of the Ash People. They were malevolent creatures with no sympathy or joy in life. They were the demons of Pandora, other than the Sky People and were so-called outsiders. The Ash People did not have the connection to Eywa and Pandora that all other Na’vi had. They were almost lifeless beings filled with hate and the urge to harm and destruct.

No Na’vi would ever want to encounter an Ash Na’vi. Death and torture would be certain. Luckily, the clans had large masses of land distancing them.

Returning to hell, the fighting never stopped. After that one battle between the Sky People soldiers and the water clan and the Sullys, Pandora was still not calm.

Kiri, Lo’ak, Spider, Tuk and I were never allowed to go anywhere unsupervised by an armed adult. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t let it happen and there was no questioning it. Especially after what happened to Neteyam…

It seemed as though our entire family had been put on their kill list and we were never truly safe.

After about a month, the fear had died down slightly and we were allowed to leave the village up to a certain area.

Today was one of the days when we would go hunting for a smaller animal or just gather fruits and herbs. Kiri was learning healing with Ronal and Neytiri, so she stayed home.

Lo’ak, Tuk, Spider and I left the coastal area and were in a forest again. This forest was still far from our old home.

What had changed was that we were no longer carrying bows and arrows. When we left, we had to have guns which were horrible, destructive tools but they were more efficient when it came to self-defence against Sky People. Especially because they had them too.

I had one, carrying it sideways because it was big and heavy while an ammo belt rested around my shoulder. Spider and Lo’ak each had one too. I held Tuk’s hand as we walked, talking about whether we preferred Ilu’s or Ikran’s.

Then, I was the first to pick up a strange noise. It was a very distant rattling coming from above the trees. I froze, letting my ears focus on figuring it out. Lo’ak heard it too and Tuk held me tighter.

“What is it?” Spider asked. We all stayed quiet for a minute, listening as the noise became louder.

“Something’s coming.” I say, not taking my eyes off the sky and the crowns of the trees.

“Do you think it’s the Sky People?” Spider asked again. Tuk gasped and I wrapped an arm around her.

“It’s a machine, that’s for sure.” I answer and Lo’ak nods, stepping in front of us all and looking around. In the distance, we see how the leaves on the trees start to shake and flay around.

It was one of their helicopters, approaching us.

“Stay quiet.” Lo’ak said. “Maybe it doesn’t know we are here.”

That theory did not last for long. The helicopter stopped moving forwards once it was roughly above us and ropes were thrown down. We stepped away and saw how Sky People in machines were getting ready to leap down.

Without hesitation, we started to run in the opposite direction with the instinct to distance ourselves from the danger.

I pulled Tuk behind me and Lo’ak gave Spider a push while we ran to take cover in the dense trees. However, the machines had reached the ground and we knew they were following us.

Luckily we didn’t have them on our heels.

Another helicopter emerged, sending us in a slightly different direction.

After a few more minutes of running, we noticed the trees were fading away and after a few more steps, there were no trees in front of us. We must have left the forest. Now, we were looking out on a large plain of grass and small plants. There was a nearby hill and in the distance, even the greenery was gone and it looked like stone and mud only.

Running into plain sight of the helicopters wasn’t a good idea but since they were behind us, we had to run from them. So we did, letting our feet take us through the grass until we were roughly in the middle.

I looked back, gasping for air and noticed the aircraft hover above the forest only. No doubt were they watching us, they had the machines facing us too but they didn’t follow. In fact, they retreated, not flying away but giving us more space.

Lo’ak and I exchanged confused looks. What was the point of that?

Tuk sat down, wrapping an arm around my leg and steadying her breathing. Spider joined her while Lo’ak and I looked around. The plain was huge but it was still encircled by forests.

“What the hell was that?” Spider asks, breathily. I sigh, not liking the fact that we didn’t understand what they were doing.

When you are being chased, it is simple. They want to get you and you don’t want to be caught, so you run. Flee from them.

But now they were just watching us and I didn’t know how to work against them here.

“I don’t know.” I reply, turning away and patting Tuk.

“You okay?” I whisper and she nods while I adjust my chest piece and ammo belt. Lo’ak keeps staring them down.

“It makes no sense.” he said, looking at me. I nod, thinking.

“Why chase us all the way here and then stop?” he asks, not expecting an answer from me.

“I don’t know. Let’s wait it out. What we need to figure out is how to get back when they are blocking the way home.” I say and Lo’ak nods, sitting down with us.

We were all a little tired, so we sat in a circle on the soft grass which dried out the further north one went. It was weird. An hour went by of us talking, pulling our strands of grass and glancing back. The helicopters had not moved. It was past weird at this point.

The whole time, I was trying to figure out what was happening. I know the Sky People don’t do things without reason. Which meant they had a plan, to drive us away from the forest and into the open. But why? Why did they want us here?

If they want us here, that means something bad is approaching. And since we don’t know what it is, we can’t plan against it. Concluding, we must leave.

“I think we should go.” I say, tapping Lo’ak’s shoulder and getting up.

“How? They’re still there.”

“We can go around, that way we will be home before the eclipse.” I say and Lo’ak hesitates before nodding.

We all get up and walk back to the forest but not to where the helicopters were. Now, there were three of them and as we started approaching the other side of the trees, one aircraft started moving forwards and hovered over the area we wanted to go through.

I stopped in my steps. The message was clear, they didn’t want us to leave. It worried me. Not knowing what is to come and not being able to escape it.

Suddenly, a single shot was fired from one of the helicopters. The bullet hit the ground a few feet away from us and we flinched at the loud noise.

I guess that meant that we should turn back, so we did, walking back to the circle.

...

The Colonel was standing amongst other soldiers and scientists, with Wainfleet and the General. Everyone was watching the operation. The helicopters were pointing their cameras at the group of Sully's kids while the soldiers on board were describing the situation. They had herded the kids out of the forest and into the open plains.

Now, they could proceed with phase two of the plan. Bring in the predators.

“What exactly is the plan here?” Lyle asks, directing his question more to the General than to Quaritch.

“We’re waiting for the hostiles to take the hint and come pick up their bait. Based on the reactions of the bait and the actions of the hostiles, we can determine how dangerous these savages actually are.” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

Quaritch nodded, keeping his arms firmly crossed over his chest.

Lyle wasn’t expecting the Colonel to sacrifice the kids. Especially when Spider was there.

“Sir, your son is there. Are we lettin’ ‘em die?” Lyle asked and only Quaritch heard his question.

“No, just testin’ the waters.” Quaritch replies, not taking his eyes off the screen. Any minute now, they should emerge and this whole operation can finally be over.

The location wasn’t far from Bridgehead, so the helicopters had no trouble keeping connections with the Towers. One helicopter had picked up distant movement and informed the Quarters that the plan was being put into action.

...

Another twenty minutes passed and I started to have a bad gut feeling. I’ve felt it this whole time because something was seriously off here but now it seemed to get worse.

My head was spinning and my ears were twitching around, to pick up any danger.

That’s when it happened. Another distant noise. Far different from the sounds of the machines. These were echoes.

Echoes of voices and screams. They sounded like war cries and I immediately jumped to my feet.

Lo’ak flinched, starting to curse at me for startling him but then he heard it too. We all froze, just listening and looking at the hill where the noise was coming from.

My heart was thumping in my chest, my head was aching and my ears were ringing. Adrenaline was building up in me and I felt completely restless.

Within the next few seconds, there was a small movement on the hill. Then another and soon we could make out a few figures. They looked like Na’vi, but they were grey. They were making all the violent noise we heard and they also happened to be running towards us. More and more of them were emerging from the top of the hill, which was distant, but still way too close for my liking.

“What are they?” Tuk asked, panic flooding her eager voice. Everyone was on their feet now.

Lo’ak helplessly looked at me as all emotions were overpowered by fear and panic.

“The Ash People.” I whisper, my breath getting caught in my throat. All went quiet for a second until Tuk cried out and the noises got louder.

“Load the guns!” I yell, cocking my gun and checking if it’s fully loaded. Spider and Lo’ak quickly comply, even though their movements stutter a few times.

I whip my body around. The helicopters are still watching.

I then give my attention to Tuk who looks absolutely terrified.

“Tuk-” I say, grabbing her hands and turning her to face me. “Tuk everything will be okay. We have weapons, okay?” I say, guiding her behind Lo’ak and Spider.

She nods but I can see the tears forming in her eyes as her lip begins to tremble.

“Don’t look okay, turn around, hold this. You look at the pretty trees and focus on not dropping this, okay? We are right here with you.” I say, handing her a water bottle. If she focuses on tightly holding it, it may be easier for her to block out the noise. I made her turn around because I knew this was going to get bloody and she shouldn’t have to see that. Neither should we to be honest. We were still too young for this kind of violence but life hit us with new terms and conditions when Sky People arrived. Now, we have no choice but to defend ourselves.

Killing when it’s not hunting is unusual for all Na’vi except the Ash Na’vi. I knew that if we wouldn’t start attacking them we would be done for. More of them kept emerging from the hill and we were outnumbered by far.

I let go of Tuk, turning around and walking next to Spider and Lo’ak who are aiming their guns at the approaching danger. The Ash Na’vi are now full-on sprinting towards us and the scene looks like one of our worst nightmares.

“Remember, their blood is not on our hands. If we don’t do this, we’re all …” I say, motioning the universal sign of dead by fake cutting my throat. I didn’t want Tuk to hear.

They nod.

“We're doing this for our lives. For Tuk. For life, peace and… for Neteyam.” I say, knowing very well that the Sky People were part of the reason the Ash People were here.

Now they look more angry than scared and I nod, aiming my own weapon at them.

“Open fire.” I shout and immediately, bullets are soaring through the air. At first, they hit the ground around the approaching targets but after a few seconds of getting used to the weapons, the Ash People in the front line start falling to the ground as our bullets penetrate their skin.

...

“They’ve opened fire first,” a voice from the screen told Quaritch and the General. The Colonel nodded, intently watching the screen. He took note of how you acted. That you took care of Tuk before talking to his son and the other Na’vi boy and that you were the one to give them the green light to open fire while you yourself joined in.

Leadership skills.

The room was silently watching the scene. It shocked everyone that your group opened fire first. Or that you opened fire at all. They expected the Ash People to talk to you and worst case scenario take you with them, but your actions changed their minds about them. Knowing Na’vi in general were not actually violent made them conclude that you must know that they are dangerous. Killing them was an extreme form of self-defence so the Ash People must be serious threats.

...

I clenched my jaw, while Lo’ak screamed out his own war cry. The light emitting from the front of my weapon each time a bullet fired out was making my eyes hurt. Our ears were going numb and I paused to reload, handing Lo’ak and Spider more bullets before shouting to Tuk that she was doing well.

We kept firing, watching in horror as the bodies kept dropping but our instinct to survive was beating that down.

More Ash People kept emerging and I reloaded my gun again, handing the rest to Spider and Lo’ak. After this, we were out of ammunition. There were only so many we could kill.

I glance behind me, starting to walk back as they started coming closer. Spider followed and I yelled at Lo’ak that we need to retreat. I grab Tuk’s arm, pulling her back with my steps while I continued to fire up the enemy.

Lo’ak stopped firing, pressing the trigger until he realised he was out of bullets. Soon after, Spider had the same issue.

“Back!” I yell and we start running. Occasionally I turn around, shooting down the fast ones that were getting close to reaching us. I knew I only had a few shots left so I used them wisely.

Tuk was crying and I was now focusing on helping Tuk and getting us all out of here.

...

Quaritch’s eyes widened when he saw how you began to retreat. You must have run out of ammunition and could only flee.

He adjusted his posture and clapped his hands.

“Alright, that’s it. Get ‘em out of there or fire up the others. Your choice.” He spoke calmly.

The experiment was done. They got your reaction and it told them that the Ash People were the worst of the worst. Now they needed to just solve the problem of you all being hunted.

The General turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“Get ‘em out of there?” she scoffed, shaking her head and sipping from her cup again.

Quaritch froze for a split second. Was that not the plan?

“No, let’s see what they do to ‘em. Then we can call the mission off.” she spoke and Quaritch grimaced, not understanding.

He thought they agreed on getting you all out of the scene after reactions were studied.

“I’m not sending my men in there. It’ll turn into a battlefield.” she added, chuckling with one of her colleagues at the absurd idea.

That was it. Quaritch had enough and was slowly starting to panic. Lyle had picked up that the situation was taking a wrong turn and became restless.

“No, we agreed that we would dissolve the fight once we have what we needed. I think we got that.” he spoke, walking up to the General.

“My son is there!”

“That’s not your son.” she snapped back.

“Do I have to remind you that I am in charge of this mission and that you will not interfere with anything unless I say so.” she spoke like a snake spitting venom. It was menacing to Quaritch and he realised now that he did in fact not look up to her.

He wanted to shout at her and argue back but he knew the consequences would be harsh on him. While he couldn’t change her mind, he could still do his own thing.

He snarled before turning away and quickly exiting the room. Lyle immediately followed.

“What’s the plan?” Lyle asked, glancing back at the General before facing his Colonel.

“We’re getting ‘em outta there.” Quaritch furiously snarled again. Wainfleet grinned, liking the rebellion. He himself never liked the General.

...

The helicopters were still hovering but we had no choice but to run to the forest. We avoided directly running under the aircraft. The start of the forest was still very far away. I attach the gun to my belt, yelling at the boys to follow me. I then wrap my hands under Tuk’s arms, who was struggling to keep up and almost tripped a few times, launching her from her feet and onto me. I was slightly taller than Lo’ak so I was able to hold her while she wrapped her arms and legs around my body. We were all sprinting away, knowing this was another life-or-death situation. Maybe the worst one yet.

Lo’ak was helping Spider while I led the way with Tuk in my hands. When we were getting close to the forest, the helicopters were not shooting or blocking the way. I glanced behind me, gasping when I saw how close the Ash Na’vi were. They were much faster because they were all adults. The looks on their faces we so hate-filled I was beyond terrified. Their eyes were demonic and it seemed as though all that mattered to them was catching up with us.

I face forwards again and almost scream when I see that some Ash People have started emerging from the other side now too. We were being closed in from both sides. Next to us was the forest but that’s where the Sky People were before.

I slow down, turning to Lo’ak.

“Go through the forest! Take Tuk!” I shout and he nods before giving me a confused look.

“Come then, let’s go!” he shouts back, ready to run in between the trees.

“I can’t! They will catch up easily if we all go there.” I say, putting Tuk back on her feet and giving her to Lo’ak. He holds her as I did and angrily looked at me.

“I will not leave you behind!” he shouts, grabbing for my arm but I move out of the way.

This made me feel like I was a stupid character in a stupid movie, making it more dramatic by sacrificing myself to help the others even though usually they would make it anyway. But this time, I knew they would follow and kill us all in the forest. If I didn’t lead them away from my family we would all die.

“There is no other option!” I yell and Lo’ak knows that when he sees how close the Ash Na’vi are.

“Time is running out. GO!” I yell and he nods before they all take off. I curse, even though I’m glad they listened. Tuk screamed out for me, tears streaming down her eyes as her sore legs dangled around Lo’aks waist. Spider looked back before running with them.

“Your ‘son’ is out of danger now, Colonel. Return to base.” The General spoke over a monitor in an almost mocking tone.

Both men slightly grimaced at her voice, while sitting in a helicopter which they took. The pilot was threatened by the Colonel to listen to him and now they were in the air, approaching the area you were in.

Quaritch looked at the screen, feeling a little relieved when he noticed Spider was in the woods and was no longer being chased. Then again, he and Lyle were both restless when they saw exactly how close the savages were to you and how you were slowly failing at keeping your previous fast pace.

They exchange eye contact before the Colonel puts the holo-pad away.

...

“We’re gettin’ her outta there too. She helped Spider.” he said and Wainfleet nodded, starting to arm himself with the present weapons.

...

I really hoped this wouldn’t be the last time I see them. I turn around, aiming my gun and shooting another Ash Na’vi before continuing to run in the direction we were before we realised there were more enemies in front of us. I left the forest behind, sprinting into what I thought was going to be the death of me. I was spinning around, constantly shooting down the Na’vi that almost got within my reach.

They had forgotten the others and were all chasing me down. I kept firing and then my heart sunk deep in my chest when I realised that I too was out of bullets.

My legs were starting to give out and with each leap I took, my knees wobbled more and I was reaching my limit.

They were really close and all my exits were blocked off now.

I was giving up all hope, throwing my gun down and ridding myself of any unnecessary weight holding me back. But it was becoming difficult to breathe and my legs were trembling.

Just as I was about to let my body give in, a loud mechanical noise erupted from above me. I knew it was a helicopter by the way it created a strong wind around it. It was descending in front of me and kept a rather big distance. The sides were open and in it, I could recognise Na’vi in military clothing. I knew very well they were Sky People.

The thudding noise of footsteps behind me was just a few feet away and I forced myself to keep running, knowing the Ash People were right behind me.

The two Na’vi on the helicopter were shouting something at me but I didn’t understand. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and all I was able to hear was the footsteps behind me and the shouts of incoherent angry voices from the enemy.

The helicopter was still hovering above the ground and I noticed the Ash People from the other side were getting close to it too.

Suddenly, bullets were flying through the air and I was about to take cover and throw myself on the ground when I heard a loud thud and one of the Ash People behind me got hit with it. While falling, their extended hand scratched my heel. That’s how close they were.

I ran as fast as I possibly could, not fearing the soaring bullets as they flew right past me.

I was almost there. The helicopter started to rise again and I panicked, not wanting them to leave. One of the Na’vi’s hands extended out, reaching for me but it seemed out of reach and I didn’t trust it. The last few steps became lunges and once I took the final one, I leapt off the ground, extending my arms to the front and gripping the bottom pole the helicopters use to stand on.

It kept rising into the air as I hung from the pole and when I looked down the Ash People were right where the helicopter was before. When I leapt forward, one of the jumped after me and just barely missed gripping my ankle.

I watched them in horror while holding on for dear life as they shouted and stomped angrily that I had escaped. They truly were demons.

I heard voices from above me and when I looked up, both Navi men were peering down at me while I swung with the movements of the aircraft.

“Take my hand!” One shouted through the noise. I recognised him.

As much as I hated them, anything was better than being tortured to death by the monsters down there, so I accepted, reaching for his with one hand while the other kept its tight grip.

He tightly clutched my hand and heaved me up into the helicopter with them.

I was on my knees, gasping for air while holding onto a seat. One of them was sitting while the bald one aimed a gun at me. I didn’t have the strength to worry about it. The one sitting scanned over my body before waving the other off.

“Not armed.” he said and the gun was put away.

I look at both of them, recognising the faces.

The one sitting was Quaritch. Or the Colonel as Jake said. He was the reason this was all even happening. Next to him was a man who I think was called Lyle. He killed Neteyam...

I hated them both equally.

While calming my breath I glared at them, my ears pinning back before I looked outside. Maybe I should just jump off and hope I land in the water.

“That was some runnin’ you did.” Quaritch said with a sly smirk, thinking I was thankful for them being there. I was but I also wasn’t.

“What’s your name?” he asks but I ignore him. He instantly notices that I don’t want to be there and that I’m not comfortable with them.

“Hey, we saved ya. If it weren't for us, you’d be dead. You might as well talk to us.” he added. I felt like shit, being rescued by the other enemy.

“You’re the reason we were even there.” I snarl at him and he is taken aback by my attitude.

“And you’re the reason we were only four.” I add, hissing at the soldier next to him. If Neteyam were alive, he would have gone with us.

Lyle sits still, processing what I just said. Quaritch shuts up too. They knew the damage they had caused.

But Lyle didn’t know he killed a kid. Quaritch did.

It was reason enough for me to not talk to them and they understood, not bothering me anymore.

“Here.” Lyle said, handing me a bottle. I glance between him and the water before hesitantly taking it, avoiding eye contact with my brother’s killer.

The rest of the ride was silent. I was too exhausted to care where we were going but I knew I wasn’t being given a ride home. My body had reached its limit and I fell asleep on board.

(This is a ONESHOT Imagine and not a series. I will not write a part 2 because there is no way I can turn this into a smut with either Lyle or Quaritch. This version of Y/N hates them both too much to hook up with them. Also, how could she? They took her away and killed Neteyam. It wouldn’t work, so please don’t ask me to do it.

There are more ideas to come, some maybe still include the Ash People while others are just filthy smut.)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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tgtncomic · 5 months

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Started reading the first 100 pages of the YA novel, Deadlock Rebels.

Ashe is turning 18 in a few months, but meets Jesse/Cassidy in jail in hopes of defying her parents that cut her out.

Like the two guys in her class were going to assault her, but nobody’s takes her self defence literally. Hence, she’s only a troubled girl who ruins her parents’ reputation.

So fuck them. Seriously. I was right that Ashe sees B.O.B more than just a machine. But that’s where he got his mini bowler hat.

But the Declassified book says Cassidy was the youngest OverWatch recruit.

So just how old was he when he met Ashe in said cell?

Did Cassidy spent 20+ years with OverWatch/BlackWatch before becoming the defacto leader of OverWatch against Rametta’s civil war that started by Talon?

Whoever got me the Declassified book off Amazon.com, I love you.

Now I’m worried if liking Cassidy now makes me a cougar?

And why did I change my ringtone to his voice?

I really need help with my character admiration.

#overwatch cassidy #book lore #jail birds #cole cassidy #Ashe

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whovianwatchingstartrek · 5 months

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A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 104 - Battle of Pahvo

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 1 Episode 9 - Into the Forest I Go

We pick up exactly where we we left off. Command is recalling Discovery back to Federation controlled Space, and abandon the Pavhan's defence. Lorca however, disagrees, and has a clever plan to take down the Ship of the Dead. Trouble is, we only have 3 hours to figure out how to defeat the cloaking device, because that is the time that Command expects Discovery to Warp to safety by.

To create a paper trail about why Discovery is travelling by warp and not by spore drive, however, Lorca orders Paul to have every medical test done, which will inevitably reveal to his Doctor BF about the genetic nature of his connection to the spore drive.

The actual plan is simple, however it requires Discovery to make hundreds of consecutive spore jumps to 3d image the ship but would almost certainly fry Paul's brain. We're then given the idea that the Mycelium network can extend beyond just the galaxy into the rest of the universe and even into parallel realities, and this really motives the scientist inside Paul, seems to be hinting that this the direction we're going in once this war arc is done and dusted.

In recent years has kinda become saturated with multiverses, but it's an idea that I love. If we do end up going in that direction, I hope it's handled well. Doctor Who has kinda dabbled in parallel universes before, Most Notibly Inferno and the overarching story of Series 2 of the Revived Series, and has kinda set my taste for how I like Parralel World storylines. Point is, if we do go in that direction, I hope Star Trek handles it's multiverse more akin to how Doctor Who does, and less like how Comic Book movies handle their multiverses. Basically, I want it to use a multiverse to tell interesting stories with the characters we have, I don't want it to become cameo-city

Paul get's into position to make the jumps, the Ship of the dead uncloaks. Ash and Michael beam aboard and the battle begins.

While aboard, Michael finds Admiral Cornwell and Ash starts having PTSD flashbacks after encountering the Klingon Torturer. Since The Admiral is unable to walk, and the Ash is out of commission, Michael is alone in placing he sensors. Luckily she successfully does it, and Discovery does it's jumps. As predicted, the Ship of the Dead goes back into cloak, but Discovery completed it's scans and now can bypass the cloaking!

The scenes with the doctor watching Paul suffering to make all those jumps was heartbreaking, and the episode had be at least convinced that Paul would die in the process. I also loved Michael's confrontation with Commander Kol, over his lack of honour, and her reclaiming Captain Georgiou's rank badge, which allowed her to kind of redeem herself in her own head.

With Kol defeated, and the Klingon Ship of the Dead destroyed, and command decides to decorate Lorca with something, presumably a medal, called the Legion of Honour, however Lorca decides to pass that honour onto Paul, which I'm really happy to see. This man deserves everything for going through that drive. However, Paul decides that the jump home will be the last jump and he'll reture to earth afterwards, which makes me wonder who'll take that spot going forward.

We get an interesting scene where Ash opens up about what happened while he was in klingon prison, and his survivors guilt and how that affected him. My heart goes out for the guy. But we also get the revelation that the Torturer made him some kind of sleeper agent or something, and that programming is starting to awake.

We're then left with the Cliffhanger of something going very wrong during that jump. The Bridge is in chaos, and no one knows where they are.

This was a very nice conclusion to the whole Klingon War arc, and I'm excited to see where we're going next. Whatever is happening with Paul, and Ash, as well as where the ship ended up jumping to. I'm a bit worried about the multiverse direction the first half of the episode hinted at, but we'll see where this goes

#whovian watching star trek #star trek #star trek Discovery #Star Trek DIS #Star Trek DISCO #ST DIS #ST DISCO #DIS #st: disco #DISCO #st: discovery #Discovery #ST: DIS

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invaders-cookbook · 1 year

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Invader's Cookbook #1: Your first Invasion Build

Invading is hard to get into due to the amount of preparation you need to succeed. You need quite a bit of practice to be really good, but you don't always have to be good to be successful at invasions. Your build determines your options. In the first part of Invader's Cookbook you will learn how to make your first build for invading.

Your attributes and Upgrade Level

For your first build, I will suggest a Lightning Dexterity Build for Rune Level 60. It has good all-around damage and survivability, and gives you plenty of options in most situations. The amount of available weapons also makes this build very fun to play!

Start as Vagabond and distribute your attributes like this:

Vigor -> 35

Mind -> 10

Endurance -> 24

Strength -> 15

Dexterity -> 30

Intelligence -> 9

Faith -> 9

Arcane -> 7

It is very important that during your playthrough you do not upgrade any weapon further than +12 or +5 Somber! Matchmaking is based on your level, as well as your weapon upgrade! If you upgrade even one weapon over the +12/+5 Somber threshold, you won't find any matches!

Your Talismans

Your Talismans are necessary additions to your build. There will be 3 talismans that are the most useful for this build and I highly recommend to wear them at all times. These are: Radagon's Soreseal, Great Jar's Talisman and Bullgoat's Talisman.

Your last talisman slot is free for you to choose. You can swap them mid-fight situationally, or wear something like Millicent's Prosthesis for a permanent buff. It's up to you to decide. Useful Situational talismans are: Green Turtle Talisman, Two Fingers Talisman, Shard of Alexander, Arrow's Sting Talisman and Blessed Dew Talisman.

Situational swapping requires thought and some skills, but it's much stronger than not doing it at all.

Use Bullgoat's Talisman to hit at the very least 75 poise. The fashion is up to you!

Weapons

Your arsenal is your most important asset. As an invader, you must swap weapons to adapt to any situation. Don't just carry them in your additional slots, they take up your equip load which can be used to wear heavier armour for better defences and poise!

Dual-wielded Noble Slender Swords will be your main damage-dealing tool. I recommend Endure and Storm Stomp ashes of war on them. Endure helps you trade blows and escape dangerous situations, while Storm Stomp gives you a combo option to deal damage.

Cleanrot Knight Sword with Thunderbolt is a great tool to finish off enemies that are far away, as well as just a good overall weapon that is effective both in the main hand and the offhand.

Antspur Rapier with Bloodhound's Step serves two purposes: Scarlet Rot application and escaping from unpleasant situations. Scarlet Rot is incredibly effective against opponents with high latency. Use Keen affinity to be able to use Rot Grease on the weapon to increase status build-up.

Cold Nagakiba is a an amazing trick that allows you to deal massive damage and apply frostbite using Spinning Slash Ash of War.

Bolt of Gransax is an amazing spear that allows you to shoot a very powerful projectile on high distances. It's most effective when your opponents haven't noticed you yet or are fighting something else. The drawback is high FP cost, but it can also be strengthened by Shard of Alexander talisman

Godskin Stitcher is a great chase-down weapon for those who are running away, as well as a powerful head-to-head combat tool! Most ashes of war are very useful, though I heavily prefer using Piercing Fang or Lightning Strike, Hey, wanna improve at playing Heavy Thrusting Swords? Check out this video!

Grave Scythe is a head-to-head combat weapon that is also great at punishing shield users for installing Elden Ring on their gaming device! Use Sword Dance ash of war for big damage, or Quickstep for powerful combos and dodges!

Claymore is a very reliable weapon that is useful in most situations. Use Piercing Fang, Impaling Thrust or my personal favourite: Storm Stomp. The latter allows you to land a quick and powerful R2 attack on an opponent you land it on.

Stormhawk Axe is a nuclear option that deals significant damage over a big area. Use it sparingly, for it leaves you at great risk of getting hit if you miss. Use for ambushes and sudden turn-and-burns when your opponents least expect it!

Don't forget that this is not a full list of available weapons or ashes of war. You can experiment with any weapon you find interesting or useful! My personal inventory stretches multiple pages at this point. Dexterity Builds are incredibly versatile! Anything that can be infused with Lightning or has Dexterity scaling can be used effectively, even heavier weapons like the Zweihander!

Miscellaneous

Physick Flask

Lightning-Shrouding Cracked Tear is mandatory for this build. It will buff your damage significantly, making your build the most powerful for your level.

The remaining physick slot is up to you. My personal choice lies between Crimsonburst Cracked Tear, Crimson Bubbletear and Opaline Hardtear.

Consumables

Your best case scenario is the one where you have 14 fully upgraded healing flasks, 20 Cracked Pots, 10 Ritual Pots, 10 Perfume Bottles, and as many various boluses as you can gather. For crafting materials see my post on Crafting Materials, Consumables and Community Assistance

How to decrease the downtime between invasions!

Invading is famously time consuming and we simply do not have time to sit around and wait for a suitable world to be found. These two tips will dramatically improve your chances of invading:

Tip #1: Visit as many areas as possible. This will increase the pool of areas you can invade in. Visit every cave, catacomb or secluded area you can find. Note that you don't have to complete them, you just have to visit them once.

Tip #2: Acquire both the Bloody Finger and the Recusant Finger. Use them one after another in succession untill the invasion starts. The way invasions select players to invade is painfully slow without this method, as it scans the pool of available players once every 20 seconds. With this method you can cut it down to 5!

#invader's cookbook #elden ring #elden ring invasions #elden ring pvp #elden ring build #elden ring help

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rmwb-fanfics · 1 year

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“I know you’re there,”

Harry’s eyelids droop, and he leans against the doorframe wearily.

The striking of a match precedes Ginny’s dimly lit figure. She’s thin. It’s more obvious than usual in the uneven lighting. Her ribs stand out, her stomach seems to be sucked in, though he knows it isn’t.

The scars around her navel are irregular and unpleasant. Her face doesn’t fair much better. The dagger wound across her cheek is laid bare. Daphne’s novice sewing abilities holding the best they can.

But of all her disfigurements there is one that brings the tightness in his chest.

A diadem unmarked by time and decay. It’s sapphire glistening in the lantern light. It looks like an endless pool of darkness. For a moment, Harry gets the impression that there’s something moving inside it.

Whit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.

“Stop avoiding me, Harry,”

“I’m not,” he says. His defence rings hollow. His eyes give him away, he knows it.

Ginny walks toward him. Toward the door.

She tilts her head as she peers up at him. He doesn’t feel anything on his mind. She doesn’t need to.

“Walk?”

Harry sighs and nods. He knew this was coming. Knew well before he risked walking to her quarters.

They meander to the top deck in silence. Nothing but the breeze and the creaking of old planks and rigging break the quiet.

They walk alongside old canons made for possible wars of a distant, undocumented past, up to the bowsprit.

Their walk ends and Harry watches Ginny step onto the narrow stem, her arms outstretched as she balances thousands of feet above the earth.

Harry’s question marinates on the tip of his tongue. A part of him doesn’t want an answer.

“Why did I do it?” Ginny asks quietly, voicing his thoughts perfectly.

“I want you to be honest with me,” says Harry, swallowing.

“HOLD MY HAND!” Fire burns around them. Shapes of horses and stags blasting out, coating the fields of mud in an impossible ash.

Ginny turns away from him, looking past the balloon and into the sea of constellations above them. “Because I’m a fool,”

Harry doesn’t let the pity take him this time.

“GINNY!” he cries. Her nails dig into his forearm. Blood trickles up into the air, suspended by magic.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” Harry admits, leaning against the railing and looking down to the clouds.

“I’m trying,” Ginny says. The anger in her tone failing to hide the hurt.

“LOOK AT ME! STAY WITH ME!”

“Are you?” Harry asks incredulously. He regrets it immediately. Dread spreads through his body like a disease. He feels on fire but his mind feels cold, uncaring.

Fire.

The silence speaks of a million possibilities, but finally Ginny says, “Fight with me,”

He looks over his shoulder to find her staring at him. They’re separated by the capstan.

It feels like a wall.

“One last time,” she finishes in a whisper.

And Harry thinks about it. Because for the first time, it isn’t an easy answer.

The diadem reflects the night sky, and Harry almost says he won’t. He almost takes his promise and throws it to the ground.

He almost says he will. He almost gives her the benefit of the doubt again. Forgive and forget, always.

“We’re adults now, Ginny,” Harry says, stretching against the railing, looking away from her again. “It’s time we both start acting like it,”

Ginny doesn’t respond. Instead, she walks away from him. Down the steps and away to her quarters.

“You’re going to become everything you despise, and all you’re going to do is watch,”

——

Chapter ??? of Regretfully Uncaring

#ginny weasley #harry potter #harry x ginny #hinny #harry potter fanfiction

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meeeeeeese · 9 months

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Back in the old times

A look at Zerek's life as a primus, back before the personal story began. In which Zerek has a sparring session with his most difficult, and most successful student.

(August belongs to @commanderhorncleaver go check him out, I command you)

Zerek stood in the training yard, sword and shield at the ready, looking out through his armoured facemask at his young charge. Across from him his apprentice, a pale yellow furred charr with a flowing reddish-brown mane dressed in a soot grey ash legion uniform, one that had clearly been altered to be far more revealing of his legs and chest. Zerek narrowed his eyes, the cub was showing off, again. His apprentice gave him a cocky smile.

"What are we waiting for old man, let’s get going already"

He stood in a slouched position, playfully leaning on his staff waiting for the sparring to begin.

Zerek growled,

"we're getting started as soon as you assume a proper stance Augustus" Zerek Replied gruffly.

August rolled his eyes,

"Whatever you say old man" and he dropped into a battle stance, staff held in a defensive position. It was sloppy, but if Zerek waited for anything better, they might be there until after dinner. Zerek sighed, better get things started then.

"This match will continue until one of us is at the other's mercy. Use the spells I taught you, and don't involve bystanders. You won't always have weak minded souls around you to fight in your stead."

"Urgh, fine whatever. Let's go then!" And Augustus sprang into action, the tip of his staff blazing with crackling purple light as he swept it along the ground, unleashing a phantasmal wave of energy that swept across the sandy soil like a tidal wave. Zerek took a step forward, holding out his shield, ready to defend himself. Just before it struck, Zerek dashed into the wave, projecting a bubble of frozen time from his shield to break through the torrent of magic. As he emerged from the wave, Zerek called out to August,

"What was that supposed to accomplish? You know damn well such a diffuse attack won't penetrate my defences”.

But as he scanned the battlefield August wasn't anywhere to be seen, a distraction then. Still, wasteful if all he wanted to do was break line of sight, kicking up a cloud of dust would accomplish the same thing. Anticipating an imminent attack, Zerek plunged his sword into the ground and quickly drew a glowing circle into the soil. He concentrated for a moment and the glowing image of a well of precognition formed beneath him, a ticking sound echoed in his ears as time unwound before him. August would attack... -NOW! Zerek dodged to the right as his apprentice appeared from nothing and unleased a blast of telekinetic force that hurtled past the older mesmer, missing him and smashing into the far wall. Zerek quickly spun to face August and leapt at his apprentice, lunging with his blade forward. August quickly teleported backward, leaving a illusory copy behind that was rent in two as Zerek landed and slashed at the clone. At the same time a phantasmal copy of the mesmer emerged and lunged at the real August, who was readying another spell. August deflected the phantasm's blade with a burst of telekinetic power, crushing the illusion in his psychic grip. As the phantasm dissipated, there was a flash of purple and August spun around as Zerek blinked forward, ready to strike. August tried to dodge, but off-balance from the phantasmal assault, he was grazed by his master's blade leaving a bleeding gash in his side. Zerek drew back to land the finishing blow and August snarled as his eyes lit up and power swelled up within him. Just as Zerek's sword was about to find its mark, August unleashed the magic. A swirling vortex of agitated ether erupted from him, a crackling chaos storm of immense power that blasted his master back. As Zerek got back on his feet August growled,

"You're not gonna beat me that easily."

And chaos magic burst from his hands, tendrils of opalescent violet magic streaking from his outstretched paws. But they didn't fly towards Zerek, instead shooting across the yard to where another warband was training. Half a dozen charr froze momentarily as they were struck, then like puppets on a string, they jerkily started charging at Zerek.

He growled; would the cub never learn? Zerek focused for a moment as crackling violet magic enveloped him. Chaos magic was inherently destabilising to the fabric of space-time, and with the proper technique one could- Zerek plunged his mind into the timestream, draining out his power to form a rift, a nigh imperceptible anchor to which he could return. Then, he raced forward towards the oncoming charr, their eyes blank and stained with August's magic. Zerek's form blurred as he ran, splitting off into clones to pursue his errant apprentice.

Projecting another protective etheric shell from his shield as the mindjacked charr mobbed him, savagely battering the shield bubble as they mindlessly attempted to attack Zerek. While the shield held, Zerek quickly performed a small flourish with his blade, swirling it in a small circle that, following the movements of the blade, formed itself on the ground. The well of calamity sprang to life as the hands of an eroding phantasmal clock materialized in the centre of the well.

Temporal energy lashed out at the soldiers, their weapons rusted in their paws and their fur greyed out as the weight of history pressed down on them. But just as the well's power reached its zenith, Zerek's concentration was broken by a luminous barrage of iridescent chaos magic that shattered his shielding and smashed into his arm, burning and shocking and freezing all at once. Glancing at where the blow came from Zerek saw August, keeping easily ahead of the clones in pursuit, his staff ablaze with swirling chaos magic. And as August readied another blast, the mindjacked warband started climbing back onto their feet with awkward, jerky motions, newly aged teeth bared. As August fired another salvo of chaos blasts they lunged, and just before their fangs found their mark, Zerek thrust his sword upwards as the sound of distorted ticking filled the air, and he invoked his ultimate magic. An iridescent bubble formed around Zerek and the charr mobbing him. As the time warp took hold everything seemed to slow down, the mind controlled charr's movements rapidly decelerated, as if they were moving through a sea of molasses. And as their seconds stretched out into minutes, Zerek's was compressed into the milliseconds. He easily weaved out of the way of the charr, as if he were taking a stroll along the riverbank. Giving a thought to August's oncoming barrage, Zerek manifested a shield-wielding phantasm as he moved, ready to deflect the oncoming fire. Outside the bubble of altered time, August turned his attention to the clones on his tail, he knew there was no point trying to attack Zerek during that magic. He sidestepped their attacks as a beam of amethystine energy popped them one after another. No matter, they had done their duty, August was almost in position. Inside the time warp, Zerek knelt down at the now inactive well of calamity, transmuting its function, and reactivating it. The phantasmal image of the eroding clock repaired itself, and good as new, it began to tick backwards, undoing the damage of Zerek's assault and the lingering influence of August's mind control. Satisfied that the charr would suffer no lasting harm, Zerek glanced at his apprentice. August stood a good ten paces away, readying his next attack right next to Zerek's continuum rift. A small smile formed on Zerek's face, "Perfect" he thought to himself as he reached back through time to his anchor point, grasped hold of it with his mind, and tugged. From Zerek's perspective, the world shattered into glass and fell away, and he fell, a disembodied mind tumbling through a kaleidoscopic sea of infinite incomprehensible visions of the possible and the impossible before finally emerging back into reality, his body just as it was, refreshed and standing next to a very surprised looking August. August tried to blink away, but Zerek was faster. Without a moment's hesitation he activated the time warp again, and August's nigh instant spell casting stretched into the minutes. Zerek readied his blade, his form blurred as he struck again and again, cutting grazing wounds in August's side, legs and arms before a final blow went straight for August's neck, stopping mere milliseconds before a skewering could take place. Time returned to normal, but the two charr were still locked in place, Zerek's sword placed firmly against August's neck. After a moment so long, it felt like the time warp as still in place, Zerek sheathed his sword and raised his faceplate. August didn't need visual confirmation to see, but Zerek looked very disappointed in him.

"First, once again you relied solely on the raw magic you can bring to bear, using NONE of the spells I've taught you to your advantage. Secondly you broke one of my ONLY rules and attempted to have your lessers fight for you, and thirdly you were so focused on your own magic you neglected to pay attention to your opponents, you should know to pay attention to my chronomancy now, Augustus. It should be obvious, but you fail."

Behind Zerek the thoroughly dazed charr began to rise to their feet, coming to their senses they focused in on August, a look of fury on their faces.

Zerek continued, "Now, get out of my sight and reflect on what you can do better. I'd suggest you do so fast, I won't be helping if your victims catch up to you”.

August, still battered from the sparring match, opened his mouth to say something but, for once, wisely thought better of it and without a word he teleported away.

#Zerek Mindrend #moose oc posting #chronomancy is fun to write #Augustus Silverhorn #Horncleaver has a followup fic featuring a significantly more compentent August I'll link to it ASAP

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catholic-character-tournament · 10 months

Text

Round 2 - Resurrect Bracket (Losers Bracket) Side B

ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to [make it to the finals]

Propaganda below ⬇️

Galahad

OKAY SO . “Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences.” DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just “galahad’s blind faith” . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who’s been hanging from the gallows since forever told him ‘hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It’ and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE’. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my… flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we’re fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES… oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved… “OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US” I HEAR YOU CRY “IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?” NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF… HAHAHAHAHHAAAA…. WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES … i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

no propaganda some I'll just include

"When did Catholics become so judgmental?" hahahah

Gloria stealing the twins to get the secretly baptized is so funny to me. My auntie stole me as a baby to get my ears pierced. Just latino things

youtube

#cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #galahad #high noon over camelot #the mechanisms #polls #r2losers #gloria pritchett #modern family #sophia vergara #Youtube

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elvendria · 1 year

Text

Noticing You - e.m x fem reader Part Six

TW: reader gets dress coded, defensive eddie, sleazy teacher, detention, eddie breaks into y/n locker, masturbation, PHONE SEX (kinda), reader is drunk at the end, 18+ Minors DNI Word Count: 5005

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part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

September 8th

There had been radio silence from Eddie since the day in the library. He would pick us up, drive us to school, drive us home and that was that. He made small talk with Dustin, but he was weirdly quiet with me.

We were halfway through class when Mr Wright looked to the back and stopped the class. Clearing his throat, he caused everyone to look up at him. He placed the textbook on the table before directing his eyes at me.

"Ms Henderson, do you have anything to cover up with?" He asked, peering over his glasses. Slowly, all the heads in the class turned to look at me.

"No, is there a problem sir?" Suddenly very nervous. What the hell is going on?

"Your shoulders, they're exposed. Find something to cover them at once."

I'd worn a sleeveless turtleneck, given that it was still a bit warm out and my shoulders had never been an issue. So why was he pointing them out now?

"But sir, I don't have anything with me at the moment." Feeling everyone's eyes on me, I wanted to evaporate in a puff of smoke. Robin squeezed my hand under the desk, clearly seeing the panic spreading across my face. The only thing I had was Eddie's jacket, and it was at home.

"Well then I'll have to write you up for violating the dress code," He says as he started writing up the slip, "You know that exposed shoulders are a distraction and therefore are detrimental to the work ethic of the men in the class."

Immediately a voice in front piped up.

"With all disrespect, Mr Wright, don't you think it's perverted that you stopped an entire lesson to point out a girl's shoulders?"

Eddie, what were you doing? I willed him to stop, mentally begging him to shut his mouth and to stop talking.

"I agree Munson, considering she's down the back and the only 'man' that can see her is Mr Wright, it does seem a bit odd that he stopped to tell her that her shoulders were distracting the men. Are her shoulders distracting you, sir?" A second voice popped up beside him, cocking their perfectly styled head to the side.

Steve 'The Hair' Harrington was coming to my defence. What fresh hell is this?

Mr Wright looked appalled but quickly started writing 2 more notes. My heart beat rapidly in my chest.

"Month's detention, all three of you! You're lucky I don't ban you from homecoming. And Ms Henderson you are to report to the main office at once to see if they can't find you something to cover up with." I'd never had detention before, not once. I was a straight-A student with a spotless record and I planned on keeping it that way. Why were the two of them fucking this up for me?

Although shocked at what just happened, I was even more shocked at the fact that Eddie and Steve walked up and swiped their detention slips like it was no big deal. I mean Eddie practically danced out of the class.

I stumbled up to my biology teacher, clutching my bookbag like it was a liferaft, before meekly taking the slip from him and heading towards the office.

After leaving the classroom, the dynamic duo stood outside at the lockers their arms both crossed. They looked smug, proud almost. Their faces changed quickly when they saw my expression, and I'm fairly certain if looks could kill they would both be ash right now.

"What in the actual fuck was that stunt in there," turning to Eddie first, gritting my teeth, "I had it under control," I whisper-yelled at him. I felt myself getting angry, and all I wanted was to go home and crawl into bed and not move.

"Under control?" Eddie scoffed "You were about to let that sleazeball walk all over you! I was just trying to help, you could at least be grateful." The fucking nerve of this guy.

"Grateful? For getting me a month of detention? Oh, what am I supposed to do, drop to my knees and let you know how much this meant to me? Maybe I'll make a big fucking speech about it tomorrow, letting everyone know just how goddamn heroic you are," I saw his eyes go wide, clearly not expecting that sort of response from me.

"I think I-" Steve started,

"And you," I said bitterly, "You think just because you're friends with my brother that you need to come to my aid whenever it's needed?" I shook my head at the two of them, absolutely dumbfounded at their antics. "It's creepy enough that you follow him around like a lost puppy, I don't need you doing it for me too."

"Both of you need to grow up," I said, fixing my gaze on Eddie, wanting to say so much more than that. I wanted to tell him that he needed to get his act together, to kiss me right now if he had the guts. His mixed signals were giving me a headache, one minute we're leaning up against a bookshelf, almost kissing, the next he's point blank ignoring me. Apart from now obviously.

I think he could tell by my expression that I had more to say but was holding back. So, instead of letting loose, I turned on my heel to walk to the main office, undoubtedly they have an ugly cat sweater or something equally as hideous that I can wear for the day, ignoring the grumbling from behind me.

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September 16th

Sitting in the detention hall, I was agitated. I didn't want to be here, I didn't fucking deserve to be here. Who cares if my shoulders had been exposed? If Eddie and Steve had just kept their mouths shut none of us would be in this stupid room.

Steve was sitting in the far corner, staring into a textbook, his head resting in his palm. He seemed to get the message that I didn't want to talk to him. Eddie however turned a blind eye, even when I blatantly turned and told him to move away.

I was tired, I woke up extra early every day this week so I didn't have to get a ride with him to school. I always ended up leaving the house just as he pulled into the driveway.

The first morning, I walked over and opened the passenger door. A wave of relief washed over him, which was quickly replaced by a look of dejection as I threw his leather jacket on the seat and closed it, making my way towards the school.

The first two days, whenever he saw me he would start apologizing and trying to pry conversation out of me. He tries to stop me in the halls to talk to me, but I kept walking. People had started to look at me funny because of how often he had been coming up to me.

I should learn to stop caring about what people think of me. This time next year I'll be gone, off to college somewhere far from here.

I wanted to talk to Eddie, but every time I looked at him my head became a jumbled mess that I couldn't decipher. I tried convincing myself he was a distraction, but the truth was I'd never been more focused. In hindsight, I'm being petty, but anyone who knows me knows that I am incredibly stubborn. Depending on how you look at it it can be a flaw or a strength.

I would sit in the back of the detention hall as another note would be sneakily put on my desk. Eddie had been doing this in every class we had together, and I hadn't answered them. I hadn't even read them despite desperately wanting to, I just shoved them into a little pocket in my bag, but it was starting to fill up.

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My head felt like it weighed about 12 tonnes coming out of Math. When was I ever going to use anything I just learned? Pythagoras theorem? A load of bull more like. All I wanted right now was to skip the rest of the day and go home, to curl up under my covers and read. Or sleep, whatever happened first.

Rubbing my temple, I didn't notice that I'd walked into someone. Thankfully I didn't drop anything like the last time I did this. Looking up, I realised I walked into Steve Harrington. Why was this guy everywhere?

"Woah, you ok?" He asked, a look of genuine concern on his face as he placed a hand on my shoulder. His eyes were wide and searching my face for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," I shrugged his arm off me, not wanting to engage in physical contact with anyone right now. "You barely touched me," I was tired, and I was also slightly annoyed at Steve too.

Let's be honest, I was annoyed with everyone. Right now everyone but Robin sucked.

"Ok, well, just checking." He stepped back, holding his hands up and stepping back.

"Yeah well don't." I pushed past him, deciding that getting Tylenol from the nurse was a better option than listening to Cassidy Quinn warble all through music class.

I hear him come after me, but I didn't stop walking. It didn't take long for him to catch up to me though, given how unnaturally tall he is. "You should hear Munson out, he thought he was doing the right thing." He said as he walked beside me.

The truth was, I wasn't ignoring Eddie because of what happened, or even because of his mixed signals. I was ignoring him because I couldn't deny how I felt anymore. I'd only spoken to him a couple of times, but I've been watching him for what feels like a lifetime.

I felt it when he was working on my car, and again when he gave me his jacket. He was so gentle.

I felt another thing entirely when he stared down at Jason Carver and defended me in Bio. He seemed protective. Is that the best way to describe it?

Either way, each time I felt like there was a growing pit in my stomach and a tightness in my chest.

Each time, I wanted him to pull me close and hold me. To feel his body warmth all over me as he whispers in my ear. To feel his forehead against mine and his breath on my lips. He made me feel weak. It made me feel stupid. Reduced to nothing but a giggling mess at the thought of him.

It was too difficult to suppress my feelings, so instead, I didn't engage with him. Treating my feelings like a scab. If I don't pick at them, they'll heal over and disappear. Leaving nothing but a faint scar and a distant memory behind.

"Look Steve," I sighed, "Things are going on that you wouldn't understand. I don't even understand! All I know is Eddie and I can't be friends," I looked down at my feet, "So just drop it okay? Besides, you barely know me, you just hang out with my brother and best friend sometimes."

Fun fact, Steve and Robin slung ice cream together, yet somehow she was the only one to come out of it with any muscle gain.

"Look all I'm saying is, hear him out. I don't like the freak either bu-"

"I never said I didn't like him." I glowered at him, instantly regretting my words, "And anyways, don't call him a freak, he's a good person."

"This coming from the person who said you wouldn't be friends with him," He said smugly, knowing he was right all along.

"Couldn't, not wouldn't." I finished, before walking away and leaving him behind. Sometimes I wish I was tall enough to punch him in his stupid face.

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"Y/n, I said I'm sorry, can you please just hear me out?" He said following me out of our detention and towards my locker. He ran in front of me and started walking backwards, stumbling once or twice. I felt a smile tug at my lips and I knew he could see it too.

I just wanted to grab my books and start walking home. I had to work the night shift at the diner tonight, and despite manifesting for a quiet night, it was a Friday and there was always a busy night shift then. I was going to be run off my feet. At least it's not as busy as a Saturday. I had back-to-back lessons to give tomorrow, and an English assignment due on Monday that I hadn't finished.

When I got to my locker and opened it, there was his jacket. After putting it in his van on Monday it was in my locker by the time I got to school that morning. The only explanation was he broke into my locker before I got there. I hated the fact that it didn't make me angry.

The day after I tried handing it to Dustin and getting him to give the jacket back to Eddie, but it was back in my locker after lunch. I gave it to Gareth the next day when I saw him in English, and through his stuttering and shock that an actual human woman was speaking with him, he nodded and took the jacket. I saw him give it to Eddie at lunch, and we locked eyes as he grasped it.

He looked like he was doing mental gymnastics in his head. Then, he stood up so abruptly at the time that I was sure he was going to come over and yell at me, but he just fiddled with something in his pocket and stormed out of the cafeteria. He came back 10 minutes later without the jacket, and I thought my eyes were going to get stuck in the back of my head.

It had been back and forth all week. I'd give him his jacket, he'd put it in my locker. If it weren't for my stubbornness I'd have given in and put it in my wardrobe by now.

But now, his eyes peered into me, like they were searching the depths of my soul. I shoved the jacket into his arms and closed the locker door. He immediately whipped out a nail file and started jimmying the lock. I stood in pure shock just looking at him, swallowing quietly as I stared at the way his fingers gripped it.

Scenarios played over and over in my head. Filthy, dirty thoughts and I could feel myself blushing deeply when I looked back at him fiddling with my lock, his tongue poking out over his top lip. It doesn't mean I like him, it just means he's very attractive.

"This would be a lot easier if you just gave me your combination." He grinned like this was funny. I stayed silent, giving in would only just make him talk more, even if that is what I secretly wanted.

He opened the locker swiftly and despite having seen it every day this week, Eddie stared into it. He took in every little detail from Dustin's 2nd-grade class photo pinned to the inside of the door, his teeth all askew as his grin stretched from ear to ear, to the calendar stuck on the back wall, a big circle marked around next Saturday.

"I'm not taking it back sweetheart."

I can't lie, every one of his pet names sent a shiver straight to my core. Each name was an appraisal, whether it was 'sweetheart ' or 'pretty girl', I wanted him to keep saying them. To keep hearing them.

He pulled me out of my thoughts when he placed his hand on my cheek, his thumb rubbing the circles on my skin.

"Not yet," he whispered, and I was once again greeted with the smell of mint and nicotine.

With that, he stepped back and shoved the jacket into my locker, turning around. My face burned where he had touched me, and I was frozen in place staring at him as he walked away.

Every time I thought I knew what was going on, Eddie always came along and made me feel like he'd blindfolded me and spun me in circles. I was dazed, confused and most of all unsure of how I felt.

Of how he felt.

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Tonight was hell, and we weren't even close to quitting time.

We were swarmed with customers. One of the guys had called in sick at the last minute and taken the night off so it was just me and Nicolle waiting tables, cleaning and ringing people up.

Nicolle was by far the best part about working here. She was very assertive, with a "take no prisoners" attitude. They weren't much older, Nicolle only graduated 3 years ago, she took me under her wing and showed me the ropes, even fending off the creepy perverts who would come in just to flirt.

The fact that we get to play our favourite music when we're working wasn't bad either. Luckily we all liked the same kinds.

"So," she spoke, leaning against the counter resting on her arms, looking at the rowdy group of kids loitering in the pop section, "Who wants to go and tell them that if they don't order soon we'll have to kick them out?"

"Not me," I said, taking a step back and throwing my hands up in a defensive manner, "I have to see them in school, it's gotta be you that has to do it." Nicolle looked at me and nodded her head, making vague noises of annoyance.

We'd grown extremely close, but that just caused us to bicker about situations like this more than you'd think. It could go back and forth like this for a while, and that was time we just didn't have at the moment. Pulling a quarter from the register, I turned to her.

"Call it," I said, flipping it in the air and catching it, turning it over onto the back of my hand.

"Heads," Nicolle called out.

"Tails," I followed.

Lifting my hand, I grinned at her. "Looks like you're up Nic," I smiled, showing her the tails-up coin before putting it back in the register.

She grumbled as she walked around to them, and I already knew they were in for it. In a way, it was a good thing that it was just us two because I'm almost certain some of the things she was yelling at the group would have gotten her fired if there was anyone else here.

"Hey," I turned to her as she stormed over, the teens having left. It was hard to take her seriously when she was annoyed, due to her height and naturally adorable face.

"At least it's quieter now," and together we had to cover our mouths from laughing.

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Pulling down the shutters and walking into the parking lot, I hopped in Nicolle's car. She had been driving me home when we had shifts together due to me currently not having a car.

"So, tell me about Eddie again." She grinned. I told her about the situation every time she drove me home, but she kept asking anyway. She was studying cosmetology at the local community college, and she loved telling me what she thinks is happening between myself and Eddie.

I recounted the week's events to her as we drove down the road, telling her about how he'd broken into my locker every day just to give me his jacket. I told her about all the notes he had left me and how I couldn't read them. I don't know why but whenever she asked about him I always just opened up about everything I was feeling.

I looked at her and saw a big grin stretching across Nic's face like she knew something I didn't. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, looking too happy to be this quiet.

"What? Why do you look like that?" I questioned her, which only made her laugh.

"Because I know what's going on here, and I can't tell you. This is something you need to figure out on your own." She briefly turned her head to give me a knowing look, just as we pulled outside my house.

The lights were off and I knew no one was home. Dustin was staying in Mike's after Hellfire Club, and Mom was probably at some bingo night or something. Maybe she was buying materials to make tews a dress since she loved that cat so much.

"I hope you know you've become a bitch ever since you started dating right?" I wasn't annoyed with her really, but I wished that she had chosen a different day to clam up about her opinions. She playfully nudged my shoulder as I got out of the car.

"Yeah, and this bitch can stop driving you home whenever she wants, " She laughed as I closed the door. I was about to turn around and fish my keys from my bag when she rolled down the window.

"Look," She huffed, "Just get drunk and do something stupid. You're overanalysing the situation when the facts are right in front of you. Maybe with some lowered inhibitions, you might figure out what's going on in that big brain of yours."

We waved each other goodnight as she sped off down the road. I don't know about the something stupid thing.

But I was definitely down for getting drunk.

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EDDIES POV

I lay on my bed with my head on my arms just staring up at the ceiling. I put on my favourite mix tape and shut my eyes. I thought about the way her eyes lit up as I touched her face today. I thought about how hot she looked when she got angry at me, and when she sarcastically mentioned dropping to her knees I couldn't stop picturing the image in my mind.

Even now, just thinking of her like that and I felt my boxers tighten. I was no better than George, we shared the same thoughts about her, I just didn't voice mine out loud. Only these four walls have heard me moan her name as I gripped myself, picturing her underneath me writhing in ecstasy. Nowadays the only way I could get off was to picture her perfect face.

The image of that towel falling away, of her breasts perking up beneath my fingertips. Those fantasies were like a drug and I was most certainly addicted. Her silence all week had been torture, and the day I saw her looking at me in the cafeteria it took all my strength to not go to her, throw her over my shoulder, walk out of there and just force her to talk to me.

I unbuckled my belt and slipped my hand into my jeans, slowly pumping myself, picturing her on my lap when the phone rang out in the hall. I planned on ignoring it, Wayne could get it, I was too busy in my little make-believe sex bubble.

The ringing stopped and I heard him grumble something down the line. The next thing I know there's a knocking on my door and I'm fumbling around trying to look normal. I open my bedroom door and he's there standing with the phone.

"Some girl looking to speak to you. Sounds drunk." He said holding it out to me. "It's late, and I don't want any visitors." He pushed it into my hand and sulked back to his sofa bed.

I loved Wayne, and I'll never be able to repay him for all he's done for me, no matter how many mugs and trucker hats I give him on Father's Day. But damn did he have poor timing.

It's an unspoken bond between us, I'd gift him a mug or hat and he'd hang it on the wall. He'd always wear it to work for the week that followed, but we never spoke about it.

Cousin Jesse, Wayne's only son, did the same thing before he moved away. Now we're lucky if we hear from him before Christmas. Maybe it's something to do with never knowing his mom. Maybe he just hates trailer parks?

I held the phone and walked back over to my bed, it was probably some girl looking to score last minute, or who thought it would be funny to call up the town freak at a party. Whoever it was, I wasn't in the mood to listen to their shit.

"Hello?" I sighed down the phone, rubbing my eyes. The girl hiccuped before she spoke.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" Y/n slurred down the line.

Ok, I take it back, I was definitely in the mood to listen to her.

"Y/n I-" I thought about it for a sec. Why hadn't I kissed her that day in the library? Or at her front door? Why hadn't I walked up to her and just grabbed her face, leaned in close and kissed her? God knows I wanted to.

She cut me off before I could speak.

"I like blue flowers. I'm wearing a blue dress to homecoming. I like the colour blue." She slurred each word to the point I was in stitches laughing down the phone.

"You have a cute laugh, Munson. You have a cuter face." She said quietly and my laughter stopped.

"How much have you had to drink Y/n?" I knew Dustin wasn't with her, I'd overheard him talking with Mike about what pizza they were gonna get for him and Sinclair staying over. I was only worried about her, she must've hit her head to be calling me cute.

"Half a bottle of Jack. I think. But that doesn't mean you don't have a hot face. Is your body as hot as your face? I had a dream it was. I have lots of dreams about you." I stayed silent, letting the words resonate with me. I so badly wanted to tell her I had dreams of her too. Filthy dreams of handcuffs and her screams of pleasure as I buried my face between her thighs.

"Eddieeeee" She sighed down the phone. I felt my breath catch in my throat and my cock twitch in my jeans. She let out a tired groan, but my filthy mind constructed it into something different. I was throbbing in my boxers, an absolute goner if she made any more noises like that.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I whispered. I was unsure of my words, how do I handle a hot drunk girl on the phone telling me that she finds me hot? Especially when this girl has given me a rock-hard dick that I need to take care of.

"Mmmm, I love it when you call me that." She moaned slightly, the noise permanently imprinted on my brain. This chick was determined to drive me nuts and so far she was succeeding.

Sliding a hand back into my jeans, I relieved a bit of the pressure on my cock. This felt so wrong, and yet so right. I mean, I already picture her when I'm jacking off, the only difference now is that I can hear her moans too. I started stroking myself slowly to the replaying sound of her moan.

My high was building fast, my cock still sensitive from my earlier attempt at this.

"Oh really? What about if I called you my good girl?" I was going to regret her answer, but I needed to know. I pulled my lip between my teeth as I moved my thumb over the tip.

"Apparently I like that too," She sounded a bit surprised.

"How do you know babygirl?" I asked, stifling a moan. God she was going to be the death of me.

"I can feel it. Between my legs. It's like a shiver or a twitch. I really liked that last one. My favourite so far." Her words were like honey, and before long I had nestled the phone between my ear and shoulder as I reached for the tissues, riding out my high and spilling myself into them. I'd never come that fast before, but her sounds and words made my body react in a certain way that I couldn't control.

There was silence over the phone, but it wasn't awkward. Peaceful almost. I lay back on the bed and listened to her breathing, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

"Eddie?" She asked, her voice soft and quiet.

"Yes, Y/n?" A smile played on my lips as she said my name. If only one person in the world could say my name, I'd want it to be her. I want her to say it over and over again as I do unspeakable things to her. Consensual but unspeakable.

"I'm still mad at you." She said, letting out a deep sigh, and I had a feeling there was more to what she was saying, but I didn't press her on it.

"I know," I chuckled slightly. She could be mad at me forever if she wanted, I wouldn't mind in the slightest.

"Will you pick me flowers? They don't have to be blue." She whispered, almost like she was afraid to ask.

"For you sweetheart, I'd pick all the blue flowers in Indiana," knowing that she was too drunk to remember this conversation gave me a weird sense of confidence, but it didn't mean I lied. Hell, I'd give her the moon on a string if she asked for it.

I heard a small laugh down the line, that beautiful laugh that I wanted to hear forever on repeat. "Goodnight Eddie," She spoke softly.

"Goodnight beautiful, sweet dreams," I said as the line went dead, my head falling back against my pillow.

I think Ms Gullivan grew blue flowers outside her trailer.

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part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

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