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zepskies · 3 months ago

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BREAKING POINT - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: Russell made you a promise, but “getting out” of government contract work is even more difficult than he thought it would be. Is he willing to put the past aside, or is this going to be your breaking point?

AN: Welcome back to the Every Second Counts-verse! After the cliffhanger in Bubbly, I know you guys have been wanting this next part of their story. Get ready for a rocky ride — in two parts! 😅 (Also thank you again for all the birthday wishes. You guys are the best. 🥹💜)

Special thanks to the lovely Michelle - @luci-in-trenchcoats - for giving me tons of Tracker spoilers from the books that helped me shape the idea for BP! Both Michelle and Wayne - @waynes-multiverse have been incredibly encouraging and supportive in this one. 💚

Song Inspo: “Come in From the Night” by Chicago

Posted on Patreon: 3/28/2025

Word Count: 6.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, secrets and lies of omission, hints of Russell’s shady past, 2x02 events, and a twist…

⌖ Series Masterlist

Part 1: One Step Ahead of the Past

You paused in the middle of the grocery store aisle when you heard the thump. Yet another item dropped into the shopping cart.

You turned your head from the display of buy-one-get-one coffee brands and rose a brow at your boyfriend, trying not to smile.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” you said, grabbing the box of Zebra Cakes out of the cart.

“Aw, come on,” Russell implored.

“Babe, Dory and I call these cancer cakes. And you know what, for a guy who somehow keeps in like, Super Soldier-level shape, you’ve got a mega sweet tooth for all things junk,” you teased, and then smiled hard when he snaked an arm around your waist to try and distract you. You knew what he was really aiming for.

“Super soldier, huh?” A smirk curved his lips. “We talkin’ Captain America or Schwarzenegger?”

You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He had you trapped against the handles of the cart. He sneakily clawed a hand for the cartoonish black and white box of treats, but you held it just out of reach.

“If we have these in the house, you know I’m gonna eat them too, and it’s all just going to go straight to my ass, stomach, and thighs,” you quipped.

Russell hummed a kiss into your neck.

“I got no issue with that.” He squeezed your hips. “Just makes you softer to tenderize.”

A hot blush lit up your face, especially when an older lady gave you two some side-eye as she passed by with her cart. You bit your lip to temper your embarrassed smile, but you still reached back to pinch Russell’s side in retaliation. He just laughed and dodged your hand, ultimately wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“It’s true,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Hmph, I’m sure,” you replied in amusement.

Despite your better judgment, you tossed the Zebra Cakes back into the cart and kept it pushing, literally. Russell’s pleased grin had you almost rolling your eyes. Yes, he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

You grabbed a couple packages of Gevalia coffee and continued down the aisle, but you didn’t realize that your shadow had disappeared. Russell caught up to you after a little while, withdrawing a peach cobbler from behind his back. It was from the bakery section. Another goddamn dessert?! And how’d he get over there and back so fast?

“I know I might be pushing my luck, but what about this guy for tonight?” he asked. “At least it’s homemade, right?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, homemade. Right from the factory that delivered it to the grocery store.”

But you sighed and relented on that one too, waving a dismissive hand. Eh, it’s on sale. Pick your battles, I guess.

Russell took that as consent to place the cobbler carefully next to the carrots, broccoli, and asparagus. He was slightly mollified by the bag of potatoes.

“That’s a lot of rabbit food,” he remarked.

“Oh yeah, and it’s gonna go great with the steaks tonight,” you sweetly replied. You knew the only way you were going to get him to eat said broccoli was if he had a slab of meat to go with it. Again, pick your battles. Your man was many things, but health-conscious wasn’t exactly one of them. It surprised you, considering he’d spent most of his life in the military.

“Heeeeell, yeah. With the special sauce, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, with the special sauce,” you smirked.

And no, that wasn’t a euphemism.

Russell smiled, that one that crinkled the crow’s feet around his eyes. His hand fell to a comfortable place on the small of your back as he fell into step with you. It was his habit whenever you two went out together—a familiar hand on your hip, your waist, or brushing your hair back to massage the back of your neck. You liked the contact; the reminder that he was with you, and that he wanted to be.

But his touch fell away after you entered the cereal aisle. You did hear a short buzz, but you didn’t notice until you were almost at the end, halfway through asking if he wanted oatmeal or Fruit Loops. When you realized you were talking to empty air, you looked over your shoulder and saw Russell stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring down at his phone with knitted brows.

His attention was wholly on the screen, where a brief message held more weight than it should.

Are you in?

Russell kept digesting the words.

“Russ?” you called to him, breaking him out of his reverie. “What’re you doing?”

Shit. He typed out a reply, and he sent it before he could think better of it. He pocketed his phone and caught up to you in a few of his long strides, his long hair bouncing along with him. His hand slipped around your waist and found purchase on a belt loop of your jeans.

“So with our soon-to-be three course meal, what’cha thinking on a movie? Wanna watch Terminator again?” he proposed.

You rose a brow at three courses, but you skipped ahead to pushing back on said proposal.

“God, no. We watched all six movies last weekend!”

“Aw, come on, get to the choppah!” Russell invoked his best Arnold impression, prodding at your waist all the while. Never mind that the line was from Predator, not Terminator.

You flinched, and a giggle bubbled up in you on reflex as you swatted at his hand. You pushed the cart onward to the checkout counter.

“All right, just the first one though,” you replied. “Then I want to watch Bridesmaids.”

He playfully groaned. “Gonna make me sit through another chick flick, huh?”

“Oh no. It’s hilarious,” you said with a snicker. “Though maybe it is better if we watch that one after dinner. There’s a scene with food poisoning from some sketchy-ass meat and…yeah. Anyway, you’ll like it, baby. I promise.”

Russell gave you an indulgent smile, but inside, he hid a guilty twinge.

“What was your favorite thing to eat growing up?” you asked.

Russell was helping you unpack the groceries in the kitchen in a familiar routine. He’d been living with you for almost a year now, and still, little questions like this sometimes helped you get a window into the man.

Key word being sometimes, because even now, he considered your question with more uncertainty than it should warrant.

"You mean, uh, on the compound?" he asked.

"Sure." You'd take any brief spotlight into his childhood.

“Uh…kind of hard to answer that one. We mostly ate whatever wild game we could catch,” he admitted. “A lot of rabbit. Which honestly wasn’t my favorite, but I learned to like it.”

He soon abandoned that thought to take out the peach cobbler from a grocery bag with a devilish cackle. You knew by the boyish look on his face that he’d be cutting at least two generous slices out of that one later.

“Maybe that explains why you’re such a foodie,” you wondered aloud. Because your man didn’t just like food. He was borderline obsessed with trying new spots with you, whether it was an upscale restaurant on the bougiest part of downtown, or a sketchy taco truck on the side of the freeway.

“Could be,” he acknowledged with a chuckle.

“What was it like having to hunt for your own food?” you asked. You’d studied history and ancient civilizations for both of your doctoral degrees, let alone your experience as a professor at Wyoming University, but studying hunter-gatherer communities was much different from having to learn how to survive for your next meal.

Russell set down the cobbler on the counter. He took advantage of the task of grabbing the vegetables next, handing them off to you so you could sort them the way you liked in the refrigerator.

“Wasn’t easy,” he said, “My dad was a taskmaster. And that wasn’t just about skinning rabbits and squirrels.”

You grimaced. “Squirrels too?!”

Russell nodded.

“We had these milestones…” he trailed, as the memory reappeared in his mind. “Heh. I remember being woken up and dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. Dad had me scale a cliff in almost pitch blackness. Couldn’t see the ground below me, could barely see a few inches above me. Was the day I turned thirteen years old.”

You paused what you were doing to meet his gaze. Jesus. Happy fucking Birthday, you thought, both in sarcasm and incredulous dismay.

Russell sighed and shook his head. He continued balling up empty grocery bags.

“That. That look right there,” he said, pointing at your face. “That’s why I don’t talk about this shit.”

You quickly recovered yourself and shut the fridge.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” You turned to him and laid a hand on his forearm, sliding down to slip your hand into his. “I’ve given you the deep cuts, right? And my brother has no problem spilling all about my awkward teenage angst, and basically every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done since I was two. But with you, there’s still so much I don’t know, Russ. Not just about how you grew up, but about your life since then.”

Russell brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, but all he could really give you was a quirk of his lips.

“That’s classified,” he said, only somewhat joking.

“Look, I get that. I know there’s a lot you can’t tell me,” you said, “but give me the broad strokes, okay? Besides Doug, who have been the important people in your life? Where were you stationed? How many countries have you seen?”

Russell let out a deep breath. None of your questions had easy answers. He knew he needed to give you something, even if it was just broad strokes. But…he just couldn’t bring himself to look back anymore. There was too much tied to things he couldn’t, shouldn’t tell you. Mostly it was for your own safety, but selfishly, there were also things he didn’t want to let loose. If he did, maybe it would change the way you looked at him with those soft, loving eyes.

“Look, maybe that’s not something we should get into tonight,” he said.

Your expression shifted into disappointment. You seemed to be making that face a lot lately, whenever he told you about another job out of town, whenever he didn't come home when he initially said he would, whenever he closed up on you.

But this time, you closed up on him.

“You know what, it’s been a long day. I think I’m feeling too tired to cook,” you said. You tossed the wad of empty grocery bags under the kitchen sink and passed by him on your way out of the room, and over to the bedroom.

Russell blinked in confusion.

“Well, wait, what’re we gonna eat then?” he called after you.

“I don’t know. Make yourself a sandwich,” you said, just before he heard the door shut.

The loud thud made him sigh through his nose. He surveyed the ingredients you’d intended to cook with strewn across the kitchen counter and rubbed a hand over his bearded face.

“Shoulda saved that conversation for after dinner,” he mused.

You and Russell were still at odds as you got ready for bed that night. After what happened in the kitchen, you cooled off for a bit. You did end up making the steaks and watching Terminator with him, but afterward, you went back to the bedroom to read by yourself, leaving him to watch old reruns of Seinfeld on TBS.

It was never really the same without you and your colorful commentary, or the way you often burrowed into his side and commandeered most of the couch. (He didn’t mind, long as he got to cop a feel every now and then.)

He could read you all too well though. He knew you were still mad at him.

He now eyed you in your silky negligée, which he thought you’d worn to bed on purpose just to torture him a little. It was the pretty purple one with lacy edges. He bought it for you while you two were on vacation in California a few months ago.

Russell’s phone buzzing on his nightstand distracted him. He checked it before you had a chance to see what was on the screen. It was from his handler at Horizon, detailing a string of coordinates for his next gig—plus a ticket for his flight taking off in two days. Russell planned to tell you tomorrow after you cooled off a little more, though he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

He tried slipping into bed behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your bare shoulder. He nosed past the thin strap of your nightgown and inhaled the pretty, floral scent of your soap…which he totally didn’t use himself.

“Nuh-uh,” you warned without even looking at him. It was a firm no on the touching, to which Russell exhaled and leaned back on his pillow, carding a hand through his hair.

“Come on, baby. How long’re you gonna ice me out?”

“Until I actually know the man who’s in bed with me,” you snipped back testily.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Russell said. He drew back in and kissed the side of your head, rubbing a hand down your shoulder. “You already know the important bits.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” you dryly replied. It was a struggle not to give into his touch, but this wasn’t the first time you two had a conversation, verging on argument about these things.

He knew it all too well.

Still, he hesitated. Like what? How I’ve spent a long time doing what I’m told, and not a lot of asking questions. Probably not as much as I should’ve.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen a lot of shit that would blow your hair back. But even though my growing up was…unconventional, to say the least, it’s made me good at what I do. Most importantly though…” He pressed another gentle, lingering kiss into your neck. “This is where I want to be. You’re the one I wanna move forward with.”

He felt you take a long breath. He hoped it meant that you were hearing him, that you were softening.

“How are you going to do that when you’re away on another job?” you asked.

Russell paused.

You moved away from his hold and sat up in bed. He followed suit as he noted the look on your face, tired and upset. His brows furrowed, despite the prickle of guilt bubbling under his skin.

“What’re you talking about?” he said.

“Don’t even try it. I saw the coordinates pop up on your phone just now!” you snapped, and you make a sound of frustration, rubbing your face with both hands. “You promised me, Russell. You promised you’d be done with contract work months ago now. So what is it? Is it that you need more money for your brewery?”

Russell swallowed. The truth was, he’d made the target goal on his business account months ago, but he’d also found one reason or another to accept the last few jobs out of town. There was pressure from Horizon to stay on. They didn’t want to lose a valuable “contractor,” after all. But it was also his own unwillingness to give up the feeling of knowing exactly what he was doing, what he had been trained to do, and secretly, the way his work kept him on the edge.

That flip in the stomach that forced him to make decisions in the breadth of a second?

Well, it was a hard feeling to give up, and an even harder life.

He rubbed a hand over his face with a tired sigh.

“Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he said.

“You know what, I don’t think it is,” you shot back. “I think you’re a lot like Charlie, except this—this kind of work is your fix.”

The accusation stung like a hot iron poker. Russell opened his mouth to sling back a retort, even though he knew your aim was deadly when you wanted it to be.

You just turned away from him and shut off the light.

In the morning, Russell woke to your side of the bed being cold and empty. It made him feel hollow, shitty, after the events of last night reared back up in his mind.

He lied there between the sheets and listened. He could hear your familiar movements in the kitchen. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself out of bed.

After brushing his teeth and raking a hand through his messy bedhead, he cautiously approached the kitchen. Russell lingered in the doorway just outside of view. He found himself watching you putter around in your little nightgown, fuzzy slippers, and frizzy hair. Your fingers got tangled in it while your free hand grabbed the eggs from the fridge, your hip propping the door open.

You’d made a pot of coffee and even set out his mug for him, as was your habit. Your own mug laid half-empty on the counter. His mug was somewhat special, though not just because it currently had a spoon resting inside it, ready for his sugar and cream.

You bought it for him last time you blew half your paycheck at Marshalls; a home goods store he could rarely drag you out of within an hour. That mug featured all the major condiments, including sriracha, which was what made you think of him. It matched the sweatpants you found for him, covered in cartoony fries and burgers.

They might’ve been silly gifts, but he liked that. He liked that you thought of him in the little things that somehow added up into the big things. They reminded him that you’d given him a chance. You’d given him home cooked meals, and let him make you a few too. You’d watched virtually every popular ‘90s movie that had ever been made with him—or at least, every one you thought he’d might like. You had a list of the 2000s to tackle next.

You were an encouraging sounding board for him, whether it was talking about what he’d serve on the menu of his future brewery, brainstorming names, or even looking up what paperwork he would need to get started. You’d also been helping him navigate his relationship with Dory, and your brother Charlie, and even Colter, whenever Russell’s still admittedly distant relationship with his brother came up.

Russell washed your car and took out the trash and washed the dishes whenever you cooked, but standing here right now, it finally clicked just how much you actually did for him. How much you cared, and put your actions behind the caring part. You’d given him a place to come home to after decades in service, and years more on the road.

Hell, you were his home. You and his sister.

But now, he realized why you were so upset. You thought he had one foot off of the firm foundation you were trying to build with him. You thought he wasn’t wanting to fully commit here, to you, and to the things he claimed he wanted. You were struggling to understand him.

So Russell entered the kitchen officially, padding in on sock-covered feet until he could slip his arms around you from behind. You stiffened in his grasp and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Russ,” you warned, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “You were right.”

You paused, allowing the fridge to close. Slowly you turned in his arms. You bit your lower lip and granted him a dubious gaze. Still, he counted it as a win when you tentatively held him back, slipping your hands over his biceps for stability.

“About what?” you rose a brow in challenge.

“I’m gonna start shopping around for real estate here in Laramie, but first, I’m gonna start making moves on the business proposal for the brewery. Would you mind looking it over for me?” he asked.

Your head tilted as you considered what he was saying, as well as what he wasn’t saying.

“But aren’t you…leaving?”

“I’m not taking that job,” Russell said. “I’m calling Horizon today, tell ‘em I’m retiring. For good this time.”

It took a while, but his words seeped into your mind and settled there on the ocean floor. Tears began to sting in your eyes, but you nodded and reached up on your toes for a sweet, lingering kiss. You stroked his cheeks and slipped your fingers through his hair when you hugged him. He held you back just as tightly.

He knew he hadn’t given you everything you asked for, but this felt like a good start.

Russell expected the call at some point, but half an hour was a new record. It was a Saturday, and he made sure you were busy in the laundry room before he took the call in your brother’s old room—AKA: Russell’s office.

Charlie had been out of rehab for a few months now, rooming with Manny, one of his old unit buddies. Your brother agreed to leave the family house to you though, since you’d always been the stable one who could actually take care of the mortgage and the general upkeep of the house. Russell joined Charlie and his friends for beers every so often, either at Charlie’s apartment, or a new bar close to downtown.

They traded stories and friendly fire at one another, Russell from his side of the branch in Special Ops, to Charlie and his friends in the Air Force. Dave and Manny could be especially loud-mouthed when tequila was involved, but Russell welcomed the good-natured ribbing with a few good pot shots of his own (he was still a little proud of “glorified flight attendants”).

Now though, Russell held the phone to his ear and greeted the man on the other line.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Adam intoned. “‘What’s up’ is that you’re leaving us high and dry, Russ. What’s that about?”

“Look, you know this was never a permanent gig for me,” Russell replied, speaking quietly just in case you were close by. “It’s high time I took a break, settled down, you know?”

Adam snorted. “You don’t have a civilian fucking bone in your body, Russell.”

“Well, that’s nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Look, you’re the best man I ever worked with. The best CO I ever had. You pulled my ass outta the fire more times than I’d care to admit,” Adam said, “but you remember that last tour?”

Russell sobered. “You know I do.”

“And you remember what I had to do to get us out of that mess. Out of Nicaragua.”

Not like you’d ever let me forget it, Russell thought. Though it was nothing he didn’t see behind his eyes when he went to sleep.

“But when I got this gig, and they asked me who I’d recruit, you’re the first guy I thought of,” Adam said. “Well, you and Dougie. He fucking quit on me too.”

Russell was happy for Doug. He and his wife just had their first baby a few months ago. One chunky little boy.

“Look,” Russell said. “I’m grateful for…everything, you know that. But this is just something I gotta do. I’ve got other responsibilities now.”

“Yeah. How is your girl, huh? Been wanting to grab a beer with you, maybe get to finally meet her.”

Russell’s lips twitched. He didn’t talk about you as a rule, not to anyone in Horizon. Aside from Doug, Adam was the only one on the payroll who knew Russell’s real name, let alone about you. This was supposed to be a secure line though.

“She’s waiting on me, Adam. Can’t keep doin’ that to her,” Russell replied.

After a while, Adam sighed.

“All right, Russ. I hear ya. I’m fucked, but I hear ya.”

“You’ll be fine,” Russell smirked. “You’ll find someone young and fresh off the meat market.”

Adam scoffed. “Right. These kids. Half of ‘em anxiety ridden pussies or juvie fucking flunkies. Can’t hack even half the shit we went through in basic, let alone eight months in Baghdad.”

That led into familiar territory. Russell shot the shit with his old friend for a few more minutes before he finally let Adam go. The phone hung from Russell’s hand after, and he expelled a sigh. He felt a twinge of regret, like he was letting go of hell of a lot more.

After he left home and enlisted, it didn’t just become his life. It became who he was. Both his body and his mind were shaped by the structure of the chain of command, the mission, the follow-through. Muscle-memory.

Putting that aside had been harder than he imagined. After all, what the hell was he, if not a soldier?

Russell wrestled with that question longer than he cared to admit. It even had him getting up from his desk to consult a glass of bourbon he kept on the bookshelf.

…It’s for the best, he reasoned.

Even now, Russell didn’t get to see his little sister as often as he liked. Their work kept them moving in different directions, her busy teaching schedule not often gelling well with his more unpredictable one. But today, a Tuesday, he was taking her to lunch between classes.

She stopped short in the doorway of her office.

“Oh! Damn, I forgot…”

She meant to invite you too, but when she took her cell phone out to call you and see if you were busy, Russell laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, she already knows I’m here,” he said. “But you and I are long overdue for some brother-sister time.”

Dory hesitated, but at his grin, she smiled back brightly and put her phone away. “Okay, then. Where do you want to go?”

He took her to a nearby café you told him about. It was one you and Dory frequented at least once a week, either for coffee and pastries, or for a nice protein bowl.

“Why is everything a damn bowl nowadays? They’re all just trying to be Chipotle,” Russell groused, but he ate his bowl of wild rice, steak, and arugula salad with just as much gusto as a carton of Chinese fried rice. He polished it off with a beer and tried to stifle his belch.

Dory rose a brow, but after a beat, she couldn’t hold in a laugh.

“Well, doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” she remarked. Her amusement slid into a teasing smirk. “Matter of fact, looks like you've been eating well since you started shacking up with my best friend.”

Russell grinned around the lip of his beer. "What're you tryin' to say, D? You fat-shaming me right now?"

"Aw, I wouldn't go that far," she laughed. "You just look like you're settling in to this civillian thing."

Russell smirked. He couldn't argue with her. According to you, he was in super soldier shape. Still, he knew you were being a little too generous. He had softened around the pouch a little since he’d stopped moving around from motel to motel, no time to get comfortable, as he was now. His hard work was also looking different these days—sitting at his desk or on the couch with his laptop. He wasn't a complete sloth though; he still worked out on the regular.

“Gotta admit, she keeps me well-fed,” he said. Though there was no mistaking the glint in his eye, or the waggling of his brows. Dory snorted and shook her head.

“Please, I don’t wanna hear about any of that. It’s bad enough I had to endure the beginning stages when you two couldn’t be in a room together without eye-fucking each other. Or sneaking off into a public restroom at our work Christmas party—to actually fuck each other.”

Russell spluttered a laugh into his beer, making a slosh of amber liquid run down his shirt. Dory smirked and handed him an extra napkin. He coughed and blotted out most of the stain himself, but gave her an accusatory look through his amusement.

“You guys seem to be doing well though,” Dory said, her eyes softening along with her smile. “She told me that you finally quit Horizon.”

He rose a brow and set down the empty beer. “Finally?”

“Well, sorry, but she’s not the only one who worries about you, you know?” Dory grabbed her brother’s hand. “It’s been good to have you around this past year, getting to know you again. It feels like having a bit of home back.”

Russell smiled ruefully, squeezing her hand.

“Thought you didn’t like to think about all that.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she admitted. Her head tilted in thought. “I remember, you used to sing to me whenever I couldn’t fall asleep.”

His mouth twitched, his eyes softening.

“Couldn’t blame you. That place made some weird-ass sounds at night,” he replied, though he sighed deeply through his nose. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Russ,” Dory reminded him.

He held her gaze for as long as he could stand. Eventually, he lowered his eyes. He released her hand and went back to polishing off the flourless chocolate cake she’d ordered for dessert.

“That night…you really recognized the man Dad was talking to?” Dory asked after a while.

Russell was a little surprised she was bringing that up, but he nodded slowly.

“I did, but hell. That was twenty years ago.”

She bit her lip. “I still can’t believe Colter thought you…”

“That’s in the past too,” Russell said, his tone even more dismissive.

Hmm. Protesting a little too much, Dory thought.

“Did you ever tell her?” she asked.

They both knew who she meant. You.

“She knows the main bits, but you’re asking if I told her how our brother thought I killed Dad?” Russell scoffed. “No. Didn’t think that little footnote would go over well.”

Dory stared back at him with concern in her blue eyes. She didn’t like keeping things from you, even if it wasn’t her secret to tell. Unfortunately, her family had a lot of secrets.

“It’s not worth getting into, D,” Russell said. “That, or any of it…though I don’t know. I don’t think Colter’s ready to let it go. He believes me now, but he wants to know who got to Dad, and why. He’s tenacious, I’ll give him that.”

Unlike Colter, it seemed, Russell had an image of his father that had lasted in his mind. It wasn’t a good one.

Paranoid son of a bitch.

Russell couldn’t really blame Colter though. He was young when they were taken to the compound. He probably didn’t remember his friends, the house, the way they lived before.

Russell had been ten years old. He remembered being on the baseball team doing well as a pitcher, and having to lie to his coach and quit the team. Russell remembered saying goodbye to his best friend, Randy, who he never saw again. Russell remembered having to lock up his tears and help his mom take care of his younger siblings, and make sure they were settling into a musty old cabin in the middle of the woods.

“I’ve tried looking into it before,” he admitted.

Dory’s brows raised. “When?”

He waved a dismissive hand. “A long time ago, when I had government access to some things. Got a whole lot of nadda.”

“No good is going to come of it, and I told Colter the same thing,” Dory said, shaking her head. “Whatever happened, it’s better if we all just move on.”

She continued eating. After a beat of hesitation, Russell followed suit.

A couple of weeks later, Russell felt like he’d made good progress. He narrowed down his search to three different spots in downtown that were up for leasing, though one of them was a bit too close to Howley’s for your comfort, which meant he really had two options. Both were walkable, but one had more parking availability, while the other was a better price for the amount of interior square footage. It was a lot to consider.

You’d given him the number of a good commercial realtor you knew, thanks to your boss, Dr. Goldstein. Looked like that stuffed suit was good for something, other than piling his work onto your plate so he could get his monthly back wax.

You were still at work on a Thursday when Russell’s phone rang. He quirked a brow at the caller ID, but a grin tugged at his lips when he answered.

“Well hey there, Ms. Greene.”

“Russell, where are you right now?”

“Chillin’ at home. Working through some stuff on my new business venture. Though if the next question’s ‘What am I wearing,’ I gotta remind you that I’m happily off the market,” he teased.

“And thank God for that,” Reenie dryly remarked. “Listen, I need your help. Actually, I think Colter needs you.”

He detected the urgency in her voice now, and he sobered.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I need you to find him. He’s been missing for over 24 hours.”

“Looks like I’m gonna be a little late for dinner,” Russell told you over the phone. "Uh, okay, maybe a lot late."

“What? It’s kind of hard to hear you. Do you have the top down on the Chevelle?”

“She’s a Chevelle Malibu, baby. Well, technically, Malibu for short—”

“Russell, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Reenie called, and it looks like Colter might be in a hard spot. I just need to go help him out,” he replied. Really, he was fighting his worry as he pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas. The sleek Chevy flew down the highway at a speed that would make you hit his arm, if you were here.

“Why does it sound like you’re giving me the kitty gloves version?” you asked him in suspicion.

Russell smiled ruefully. This was why he loved you—for your mind.

“Again, nothing to worry about. I’ll be home by the morning…probably.”

He heard your heavy sigh.

“Okay, Russ. Just be careful, please.”

“Hey, you know me. I’m always careful.”

“Right,” you snorted.

The curve of his lips kicked up into a grin. “I gotta let you go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, okay…I love you.”

His face softened a fraction. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

You hung up with your boyfriend and slipped your phone back in your purse. An undercurrent of worry churned in your stomach. You knew Russell was downplaying whatever was really going on. Reenie wouldn’t call him for help unless Colter was really in trouble, or else why wouldn’t she call the police?

That rewardist work that Colter did, it had led him into some shady shit, according to Dory, like insidious cults, serial killers, and corrupt politicians. She talked to Colter now more than she used to, but even then, she knew he wasn’t giving her the whole story about most of his adventures.

Must be a Shaw family trait, you thought sourly.

With Dory on your mind, you decided to call her up and make tonight a girls’ night. You hung out at her apartment after work, splitting a bottle of wine and several orders of Mexican takeout while watching reruns of New Girl.

“Where do you think they are right now?” Dory asked, for a moment sobering from laughing at Jess’s antics.

You had your glass of wine poised to your lips in thought. “I don’t know, but I do know Russ wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I think Colter’s in trouble.”

Dory worried her lip. It clearly didn’t sit well with her that both of her brothers were MIA right now. You tried calling Russell earlier for a check-in, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Colter’s number didn’t even ring. It was just a dial tone, with a disembodied voice saying this number has been disconnected.

But there was nothing you two could do. Reenie had advised you to sit tight and wait for one of them to check in.

“You know, I may not understand them sometimes, but it makes sense to me why they are the way they are,” she said. “They had it worse than me growing up, either because I was the youngest or because I was the only girl.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where she was going with this.

“I remember, Dad used to make them sleep outside sometimes. Somewhere in the middle of the damn woods, without supplies, without food,” Dory said. She actually began to tear up, her blue eyes turning pale and glassy. “I heard him and my mom arguing about it once. Finally he agreed to go out there and watch out for them—from a distance though, so they wouldn’t know he was there.”

You stared back at her in dismay. That hurt your heart so fucking deep. No wonder Russ didn’t want to open up about this shit. How can I blame him? How can a father…

You shook your head, resting a hand on her arm.

“But why? Why did your dad do all this? Russell said he was paranoid, but…what was he running from?” you asked.

“We don’t know,” Dory admitted. After a moment, she looked over at you and held your gaze. “All that we did know, was that his death wasn’t an accident.”

That revelation shocked you. Your mouth parted, though no words escaped.

Dory set down her wine and got up from the couch. Then, with a certain decision weighing in her eyes, she went over to her room.

“D?” you questioned. “You’re just gonna drop a fucking bomb like that on me and walk away?!”

Not getting an answer, you rose to follow her, where you watched in bewilderment as she dug into the recesses of her closet until she found a plain white shoebox. It was just some old cardboard, frayed at the corners, but Dory hesitated to even open it.

“What are you doing? What is that?” you asked.

“A few years back, a family friend gave this to me. Apparently it has some of my dad’s old stuff,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to go digging through it because I wanted to leave the past behind me. I think it’s been easier for me to say that, but not so easy for Colter and Russell.”

After a beat of hesitation, she handed the box over to you.

“Would you give this to Russell when he gets back?” she asked. “He can do whatever he wants with it. Look inside, try to piece together what happened, or just burn it all. Either way, I’m done. As far as I’m concerned, my dad wasn’t really my dad after he took us to live in that place. And my mom…” She laughed humorlessly. “She was no saint either. She went along with everything my father did.”

You took the box from her with some concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t even like having it here. It’s just a…bad reminder.”

You rubbed a hand over her arm in comfort. "You guys never went to the police?"

Dory shook her head. "Mom didn't trust anyone, least of all the police. She probably thought it was safer for us."

"God, I'm sorry," you said. After a beat, you set down the box and pulled Dory into a hug. She rested her chin on your shoulder and squeezed her eyes tight for a second.

"It's okay," she said. "...It's in the past."

Sure, you thought. But there were some scars that didn't fade, no matter how much you ignored them, banaged them, or tried to soothe them.

You took the box and left her apartment shortly after. She offered to let you stay the night so you wouldn’t be alone, but you declined. Russell installed a state-of-the-art security system in your house, making it feel like the safest place in the world to you. That was where you’d be able to sleep tonight, even with this mysterious old shoebox.

The drive back was devoid of traffic this late at night, but after what happened with Eddie Mendez last year, you always felt uneasy driving alone at night. A good part of you was also still trying to digest all of this.

On one hand, you could understand Colter and Russell wanting to know what happened to their father. If Ashton was murdered, the reason could explain everything they went through growing up.

With all of these thoughts rattling through your mind, you couldn’t even be completely relieved when you pulled into the driveway of your home. You walked into the house quickly, shut the door, and input the code to lock everything behind you.

Holding your purse on one shoulder and the box under your other arm, your first instinct was to find a good hiding place for it. You began to wonder if you should’ve accepted it from Dory at all. If her father’s death was no accident, then what was he killed for?

But…Dory had this thing in her closet for all this time without incident. Surely there was nothing diabolical about it. Ashton Shaw had been a professor too, right? It probably just held some keepsakes, a few old essays, some paperclips and 20-year-old dust bunnies…

You found a place in the house that a burglar would be unlikely to look for something valuable (again, really, what kind of burglar would want to steal a shoebox of old junk?), and you took a deep, calming breath in the middle of your living room.

You still hadn’t been able to get in touch with Russell. All your texts had been going unanswered. You grabbed your phone and began to find Reenie in your contacts, but you paused. You were reminded of something you forgot to do when you walked in the door.

Along with the coded door lock, there was an app on your phone where you could monitor the cameras strategically placed outside the house. However, when you checked the app, you realized that the camera feed said Unavailable. For every single camera.

Your brows furrowed. That’s weird…

Seconds later, the first bullet broke through your impact windows.

AN: 🫣 Oh sorry, did I not mention there was a cliffhanger? You can rant and scream in the comments, it's totally fine. 😂

As you can see, we're in the middle of 2x02, with my own twist on some things around it. Plus some material from the books making it into this part - and more heavily implied in the next part - coming next Sunday!

Next Time:

While the phone rang, tucked between your shoulder and your ear, you were forced to set down the gun. With trembling hands, you quietly rifled through your medicine cabinet for gauze or an ace bandage. Fuck, yes! Okay. This could work. You found the big square bandages that stick on. Russell bought them the last time he came home with a couple of nasty abrasions from a job.

Still, the phone rang.

Come on, come on, come oooon!

“Hello?” The lawyer’s voice was smooth and retaining a note of exasperation.

“Reenie! Where’s Russell?” you whisper-hissed.

“I have him right here. What’s wrong?” she asked. Immediately, her tone shifted to concern. You’d never met Reenie in person, but you knew she worked with Colter and, according to Russell, was damn good at what she did.

You didn’t give a shit about any of that right now.

“Put him on the phone, please!”

In a few seconds of shuffling, you finally, finally heard his voice.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

A breath of relief escaped you in a rush.

“Russell,” you sobbed.

⌖ Keep Reading: PART 2

Join My Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories; send me requests, and more!

Every Second Counts Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell Shaw Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @roseblue373 @rizlowwritessortof @brianochka

@branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @lamentationsofalonelypotato @chevroletdean

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @grilledcheeseandtomato @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak

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piastri-fvx · 5 months ago

Text

Love hate. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x f1driver!ferraridriver!reader, smau, one-sided enemies to lovers (inspired by Na Na Na by One Direction)

Summary: When she doesn't like him and he's in love with her.

Word Count:

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter and girls from pinterestttt!!

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and bickering/teasing

A/N: i basically had no time to write anything because i had a lotttt to do!! anyways, i hope u enjoy!! lmk if u have requests or want to be on my permanent tag list <333 also i wrote this before lando changed his instagram @ so i had to go back and change emmmm!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

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

@yourusername

liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, ferrari, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 2.484.916 others

yourusername starting the 2025 season like thisssss

| view all comments...

user1 every model should thank y/n for choosing this career path, they wouldn't stand a chance against her 🙏

user2 THE QUEEN IS BACK YALL

-> user3 manifesting another y/n season

charles_leclerc favorite teammate 😁 liked by author

-> yourusername tyyyy!! you're my favorite too

-> user4 oh to be friends with y/n or charles

oscarpiastri good luck on the first race! liked by author

ferrari our girl ❤️🫶 liked by author

-> yourusername forza ferrari sempre!!

-> user5 y/n was meant to be a ferrari driver, no one can convince me otherwise

-> user6 real, if you don't agree, argue with the wall

alexandrasaintmleux 🥰🥰🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

-> user7 y/n basically being charles's sister atp 🛐

-> user8 and alex's sister lmao

-> user9 y/n leclerc from now on 🙏

user10 SHE IS GLOWINGGGG

user11 pookie is backkkk!!

-> user12 y/n we need all of the tea

-> user13 real, how was break, y/n?

lando 😍

-> yourusername no.

-> user14 humbled him real fast 😭

-> user15 is he just silent or was he silenced 🛐

-> user16 lando got gagged lol

@lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxfewtrell, joaofelix79 and 3.483.294 others

lando new year, new @ 😁

| view all comments...

oscarpiastri 👍 liked by author

-> user1 typical Oscar behaviour

-> user2 fr the response is soooo oscar

user3 should've been landgoat yk 😝

user4 just a chill guy

-> user5 just a chill guy named lando

-> user6 who drives cars in weird shaped circles for a living

-> user7 and has no rizz (iykyk)

mclarenauto short and sweet. We love it 🧡 liked by author

-> user8 okay sabrina carpenter.

user9 still our goat 🤪🎀

user10 i'm sorry, the old lando can't come to the phone right now ✨

-> taylorswift 😙

user11 y/n being in his likes tho...

-> user12 real, because what about lando's lack of rizz?

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, flavy.barla, jade_distinguinn and 5.385.495 others

yourusername sooooo happy with p1!! congrats to osc on p2, well deserved

| view all comments...

lando what about my p3???

-> yourusername go oscar!!!

-> oscarpiastri go mclaren

-> lando go lando!! 😁

-> yourusername ...

oscarpiastri thanks mate liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcomeeee, osc

-> user1 😁😁😁

user2 cutieeeeee 🫶🫶🫶

user3 i think i'm lesbian now 😍

-> user4 *bi, lando norris exists

-> user5 omg right

user6 oh how i love y/n photo dumps

-> user7 her aesthetic is literally what i wanh mine to be like

lilymhe angel 🫶💗 liked by author

-> yourusername getting ready to get down on one knee right now ☺️

-> user8 lando, alex????

-> user9 y/n is stealing albono's girl 😭

user10 beautifullll 🤍

user11 queen of pinteresty photos liked by author

user12 girly we miss you on tiktok

-> user13 real, i miss y/n's influencer era

-> user14 yeah!! come back, y/n

user15 i wanna eat these pics liked by author

lando i agree with @user15

-> yourusername respectfully, get out of my comments

-> lando awwwwww 😫

-> user16 lando got rejected

-> user17 AGAIN

@lando

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, flavy.barla and 3.399.492 others

lando she lost a bet

| view all comments...

yourusername i don't support this

-> lando why didn't you at least like the post, baby 😩

-> user1 BABY??????

-> user2 SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT

-> user3 I'M FRAMING THIS ON MY WALL WTF

user4 CAN WE TALK ABOUT LANDO CALLING HER BABY?????

-> user5 REAL BECAUSE IS THAT A HARD LAUNCH

user6 can we talk about how STUNNING she looks?

-> user7 real!! like damnnnn

user8 why is she so prettyyyyy 😭

oscarpiastri lol

-> yourusername 🙄

-> user9 oscar is having so much fun with this lmao

user10 lando entering his aesthetic arc???

user11 y/n pookie is such a good influence on lando

-> user12 especially on his insta feed

-> user13 "thank you y/n" we all chant in unison 🛐🛐🛐

user14 y/n looking like a goddess as always 😫

-> lando yeah she does that 😣

-> user15 LANDO WDYM

user16 guys i think lando's trying to tell us something

user17 lando trying to hard launch and y/n refusing 😫

-> user18 it's giving mixed signals

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and 10.382.283 others

yourusername hard launch or whatever

tagged: @lando

| view all comments...

user1 favorite enemies to lovers 🛐🛐🛐

oscarpiastri finally liked by author

-> user2 OSCAR 😭

user3 so invested in this

-> user4 same

-> user5 finally something interesting lmao

user6 i smell something

-> user7 a love story 🥰

user8 lethal face cards belong together

-> user9 real

-> user10 the proof is literally RIGHT HERE

user11 this post just validated everything we've been praying for. thank you for your service liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcome, darling 💗

-> user12 i would faint if she called me darling

-> user13 @user11 got so lucky wtf

user14 i guess being a ferrari fan, this is the only win we can get

-> user15 #depressedemo

-> user16 there is not one ferrari fan that is mentally stable

-> user17 can't even protest tbh

-> charles_leclerc me neither

user18 lando, please give me y/n

-> lando never.

-> user19 mama a lando behind you

user20 we may call ourselves lando fans, but we are really just y/n fans liked by author

@lando

liked by yourusername, mclaren, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, f1 and 6.484.185 others

lando MY WOMAN 😍😍😍

| view all comments...

user1 do you guys perhaps need a dog?

-> user2 i can bark

-> user3 woof woof woof

user4 meow meow meow

user5 sometimes babygirl is lando norris

-> user6 sometimes babygirl is a 24 year old man

-> user7 who drives cars for a living

-> user8 and has a stunning gf

user9 i'm only here for the y/n pictures

-> user10 same it's what we deserve

user11 lando i only follow you for the y/n pictures, more content please

-> lando as you wish

-> user12 YAYYYYYYY

user13 my day just got brighter after seeing this GORGEOUS WOMAN

user14 lando can you fight?

-> user15 i guess lando has to fight now

-> user16 he can't take all of us at once

user17 they look so cute 💗

-> user18 y/n is stunning and so is lando 😭

-> user19 no but they are

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

A/N: i'm soooo tired but wanted to get this out of my drafts lollll!! feel free to request and please comment (if u want), i would love to get some feedback, lmao! love u all and hope u enjoyed this

tags!

@freyathehuntress

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago

Text

feb 2025 episode of octavinelle + 4koma updates!

***Note: no Episode of Savanaclaw manga update this month; Episode of Scarabia's first chapter drops on the 27th!***

It's time, guys... AZUL'S CHILDHOOD FLASHBACKS 🤡

Modern day Azul, octo form...! From only the back though.

Waaaaah~ The Coral Sea is so pretty!! I am certain that nothing could poooooossibly go wrong in this picturesque place :))

NUUUUUUUUU OTL NOT THE JUXTAPOSITION BETWEEN THE MERCHILDREN PLAYING IN THE LIGHT WITH EACH OTHER WHILE AZUL'S BY HIMSELF IN THE DARK IN HIS OCTOPOT...

THERE HE ISSSSSSSS 😭😭😭 ashdhvadoyd8tvqef8tqfasi Jade and Floyd are so right, Azul looks so squishy and cute...

It's interesting to fianlly get faces to put to Azul's bullies? They all do seem to be more humanoid merpeople than more sea creature-like ones (though the in-game silhouettes also implied this), which makes me wonder if the "they discriminate against octopus merfolk" theory have some kind of truth to it. A lot of it seems to be that they look down on him for spewing ink when he cries + his inability to swim fast; his limbs get tangled in things.

THOSE KIDS ARE SUCH DICKS THOUGH, AZUL WASN'T DOING ANYTHING TO THEM... Just swimming by with his stuff and that asshole had to tug on one of his tentacles, make Azul's stuff go everywhere, and knock Azul to the seabed... Poor baby's crying (and he inked too, which… uh, seems like the equivalent of wetting yourself in Finding Nemo but not sure if that’s the case here too)💀 KIDS ARE BRUTAL, MAN.

Also??? Confirmation that female merfolk wear seashell bras!! There's a background character that wears one.

OOOOOH Little Mermaid reference! We see a bunch of bottles in the same shapes as Ursula’s ingredients, but one thing that stuck out to me was this bubble with a butterfly in it. Ursula used a similar one to make her Vanessa disguise.

I like that the manga shows us how hard Azul worked to become the person we know today. We knew that he studied a lot and wrote a ton of spells using his limbs and the ink he produces, but we see him engaging in other activities to improve himself too. Like him lifting all those dumbbells!! That’s so impressive for a little kid.

THE TWINNNNNnmNnNNNNNnNs!!!! 😭 They’re so cute!! I think the super short hair (including the shorter black strands, lmao) looks very appealing on their smaller selves. The scales on their foreheads are a nice touch.

LMAO the way the twins just barge into Azul’s place and start digging through things 😭 No sense of privacy, I guess.

cbksbejebzoGsown NOT AZuL GRABBinG THEM AnD tOSSinG THEM OUT LikE TRAsH

And Jade and Floyd aren’t even bothered by it… They’re acting like it’s fun and they just got off some free roller coaster ride or something 😂

So like the game, they first encounter Azul as kids but they more directly approach him and offer to help him out in middle school?

Speaking of middle school, we get to see Octavinelle from this era as well!!

Jade and Floyd look very similar to their modern day selves, but you can tell that Azul notably still has some of his “baby fat”. By high school, it’s all gone.

… Anyway, I can see that the shady seafood trio still had their signature sketchy smirks, even all the way back then. This does not bode well 💦

This month's 4koma focuses on Riddle and his fellow Equestrian Club members! Riddle is trying to make a pumpkin carriage for Halloween, while Silver and Sebek provide feedback on how well the carriage suits Malleus's needs. Riddle also goes on to get help from Heartslabyul.

asdhlbiaogyvsfapa MALLEUS'S EGG (Tamago-sama..._ MAKES A CAMEO...

That's it for this month! On the 27th, we get to meet a new Yuu for the Episode of Scarabia, so I'm looking forward to that.

369 notes · View notes

hollandsfavbabe · 5 months ago

Text

Wonderstruck

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which peter wants to take liz to homecoming and not you … or so you assume

warnings: single use of y/n (shout out to the old me), villainized liz, dramatic teenager moments, descriptions of physical injuries, very happy ending!

word count: 4.9k

masterlist

I'm back! Starting off 2025 by clearing out my drafts including this beauty that is heavily inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Thanks for being so patient. It’s kind of bad because I’m so rusty, but practice makes perfect! To everyone who had sent me a request, I promise I am getting to them/ already started! Right now I'm adjusting to a lot of changes in my personal life, but everything is starting to get easier so I hope I can post more often. Love you guys 💜

The air was cold as you stepped out from your rented limo and onto the yellow stripped concrete of Midtown’s parking lot. It was quiet where you stood as the limo pulled away. If you hadn’t been able to see the flashing multicolored disco lights from inside the school building, you never would’ve known there was a dance at all. Maybe it wasn’t too late. You could have a terrible cold as far as your friends knew, all it would take is a quick apology text. If you ran fast enough, you could be out of sight and back home within the hour. You sighed as your spool heels carried you towards the door, arches aching. Stupid high heels. You wish your dad had let you wear your Converse or at least stopped hovering over you for even a second. You could’ve snuck them if he hadn’t been so smothering.

You picked up the sides of your pastry shaped purple dress as you walked to the back door of your school. Low vibrations tingled your hand as you reached for the handle, courtesy of the blaring 80s ballad inside. The melody greeted you as you stepped inside.

People were dancing and laughing all around the gym which was adorned by bright party streamers. It was quite the festive prom, one that you would’ve enjoyed under different circumstances. But as you neared the middle of the gym, the sight you feared most was suddenly dancing right in front of you, a painful reminder of why you didn’t want to be there in the first place. Your best friend, Peter Parker, and his smug chosen date: Liz Allen.

The news broke only days before the date of the dance. You had been hoping Peter would ask you to the dance, seeing as you two were close as close as could be and your mutual friend, Ned, had constantly assured you each moment you were alone that Peter had to feel the same. And you trusted him for there was no one in the whole of Midtown Tech who knew Peter better than Ned. They were the best of friends, how could he be wrong.

“You know how he is,” he would say. “He’s probably just waiting for the right moment. There’s no way he isn’t totally in love with you.”

Three days ago you might have agreed that waiting was indeed worth it. In your daydreams he would ask you during your weekly study dates, some of the only moments where it was just the two of you at his place. Your delusion had grown so strong that when Ned informed you that he had asked someone else last minute, you almost didn’t believe it at first.

“Good one,” you had laughed, only for your amusement to turn sour as you realized that Ned was in fact not joking. As if it couldn't get any worse, you felt sick when he revealed the name of the girl who stole away the only boy you would ever want for the rest of time. Of course it had to be Liz.

It wasn’t her attraction to Peter that made you dislike Liz Allen, or her intelligence, or even how flawless she managed to look when all you could muster up was piled leggings and crewnecks. You couldn’t stand how she treated you, lording her popularity over you like it was a key to the city. She got everything she wanted, popular friends that would help her throw parties at her huge house whenever her perfect, loving parents weren’t around and rumor had it, she was most well known for the things that she does on the mattress. And now she had Peter, even after countless years of teasing and enabling his bullies, she still managed to keep him wrapped around her finger and bind him under her curse. After all she had done to him, how could she steal your happy ending? The wicked witch had stolen your prince.

The sight of them together, standing huddled as one, stung worse than the loss of a good friend, sure to be burned in the back of your mind for all eternity. You knew you would be forever haunted by it. You blinked through glassy eyes as you fought the tears that started to well, stiffening as they turned to look at you and Peter’s brown eyed gaze met yours in a solemn greeting.

“Y/n.” he said, taking in the sight of you in your dress. The very same dress you had chosen hoping to wear it on his arm. He didn’t light up like he usually did when you two were together, as the match that ignited the spark between you had been rained out by Liz’s presence. His lips parted slowly as he tried to speak once more. “You look-”

“Y/n!” Liz interrupted, breaking her hold of Peter’s hand to open her arms wide for you. “You made it!” she leaned in for a hug and without anywhere to run, you let her, your hands loosely holding the emerald, jeweled fabric of her perfect homecoming dress.

“Yep,” you affirmed with a strained breath so as to not inhale any of her sickeningly sweet perfume. It lingered even after she stepped back, like a never fading gut feeling that hung around even after the danger had passed. “I thought I’d drop by to say hi.”

“You’re not leaving early are you?” she raised a brow. You could feel the judgment radiating off of her from the way she looked down upon you as her stilettos made her slightly taller. “What about your date? You should at least stay for them.”

You looked over at Peter who remained silent, unwilling to break up whatever Liz had begun between the two of you. It seemed as if he understood for a moment just by the way you looked at him, that he was supposed to be your date. But then he turned his head.

“I don’t have a date.” you admitted, gazing up at Liz with a lifeless stare.

“Oh,” she reared back in smugly, rejoining arms with her precious Peter. “No one asked you? Really?”

“A few people did,” you corrected, trying your best to ignore the pang of jealousy in your gut as you stared down at the homemade corsage on her wrist, undoubtedly constructed by Aunt May. Lilac roses and Baby’s-breath, two of your favorite flowers. “But I turned them all down. I was kind of waiting for someone special to ask me.”

You could’ve sworn you saw Peter tilt his head toward you for a second, but Liz blocked your view of him as she stepped over.

“I’m sure you can find someone here,” she smiled, her perfectly whitened teeth glimmering as she pointed to a boy standing by himself in a corner, but he was exactly the wrong person to match you up with. “Flash is just over there. I think he came with a date, but honestly he’s desperate for an upgrade. He had to beg her to go with him. I’m sure he’d leave her in a heartbeat if you asked.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” you glowered at her, ready to counter anymore of her quick remarks until you felt two pairs of hands pulling you away as each restrained one of your arms. Ned and MJ appeared at your side, bystanders to the whole conversation.

“We’re gonna get some punch.” MJ stated.

“You’re pretty thirsty after your ride right?” Ned asked in your direction, though you could tell his question was more than an explanation of anything as he helped MJ drag you away. “She needs to, uhh, hydrate.”

“No kidding.” MJ remarked humorously, though she never broke from her usual monotone.

“Yeah so we're just going to go over the punch bowl. We’ll be right back.” Ned grimaced, trying his best to gain control of the situation as he and MJ lead you away to a more remote corner of the gym, far away from Peter and Liz and all of the loud hustle and bustle of the dance.

“I can-” Peter tried, reaching out to follow you, but his offer went unheard as Liz quickly shot him down.

“C’mon Peter. Dance with me!”

From across the gym, you sighed as they released you, falling back into the filled up bleachers behind you. You blinked a few times as you still refused to let the tears fall. You really didn’t want to give Liz anymore fuel.

“Are you okay?” Ned asked, noticing the way your face scrunched up as you tried your best not to cry.

“Not really,” your voice broke as you held in a sob. “Of all the girls he could’ve asked. Why did it have to be her?”

“You want me to knock some sense into him?” MJ offered, entirely serious as she clenched a fist.

“No, don’t hurt him.”

MJ settled for a subtle flip of the bird as she raised her clenched fist and pointed her finger in the air in Peter’s direction, though it went unnoticed as he spun around with Liz.

“I just don’t get it,” you exasperated. “She’s always subtly degrading him. What exactly does he think she has that I don’t?”

“Money?” Ned suggested before MJ whacked in square in the chest, forcing a pained whine out of him.

“That was rhetorical.”

“Sorry.” Ned wheezed.

You sighed, looking past your friends to stare at unconventional couple again.

“She is much prettier than me. And she’s good on Decathlon, as much as I hate to admit it. Maybe this is for the best.”

“Stop it.” MJ shook her head.

“Yeah, don’t talk like that,” Ned agreed. “She’s nothing compared to you. Peter’s been wanting you for way longer, I’m sure of it.”

“Then why is he dancing with her?”

“I-” Ned cut himself short, looking down towards the ground. “I don’t know. I was so sure, I swear he was going to ask you.”

“Maybe I should just go, the only reason I came was to see him, but Liz won’t even let me do that. Now that she's got him, she’ll never let him go.”

“No, you deserve to be here just as much as she does. Don’t let her win…”

“Ned,” MJ warned, sending him a warning look. “She’s miserable here. If she wants to go, let her go.”

As much as she herself wanted you to stay, she understood what it was like to be in your position and she couldn’t want you to be tortured anymore.

“Come check on you later?” MJ offered.

“No that’s okay,” you declined. “I just want to be alone. I’ll see you guys at school on Monday.”

When you arrived home, you weren't sure how to break it to your father that you had retired from the dance so early so you snuck up to your room using the service elevator.

Tony Stark hadn’t put virtually any effort into getting ready for his own dances. His routine was always the same as a teen. He’d put on a nice outfit and maybe a tie if he was feeling really fancy and go dance with his buddies for about five minutes before moving to the parking lot to break open a new bottle of whatever he could steal from his parent’s liquor cabinet.

But when it was time for you, his only daughter, to attend your first Homecoming? He didn’t spare any expense (as long as you didn’t protest).

You had your dress picked out weeks before, custom-made from some international designer brand that owed your father a favor, flown in from Milan along with your matching shoes. He’d spent hours researching the right products and equipment needed to fix up the perfect hairstyle (which was executed flawlessly). And even when he failed to figure out how to do your makeup, he enlisted Pepper who made you look more exquisite than a Vogue model.

You didn’t want him to think all his hard work had been for nothing and Stark Tower was so big that if you memorized the layout and avoided the outdated surveillance systems (Tony didn’t see a point in updating them with the recent construction of the compound), you could move anywhere undetected.

You knew he had scheduled the moving team for tonight specifically because you would be gone so it wouldn’t be suspicious if the service elevator was in use and your room was an easy distance away, just down the hall and around a corner.

When you arrived, the weight of your decision started to feel heavier by the second.

Even though none of your classmates would ever know that Tony Stark was your father (besides Peter of course since he was your best friend), now no one would get to see all the work out into your night.

You slid off your heels, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change out of your deep purple dress or wipe off your face. All you could do was flip on your bed and turn on a mindless movie channel to quiet the screaming voices in your head. All your thoughts echoed his name. You would never understand why he chose her. The lingering question kept you up.

Hours later, you were wiping the snot and tears off your face with the back of your hand and turning off your television. You wouldn’t have watched the ‘mindless’ channel if you had known they were showing Dead Poets Society and you definitely wouldn’t have watched Dead Poets Society if you had known how tragic it was. Now you were a miserable mess of ruined mascara.

At least it had distracted you from your own problems, enough that you had stopped checking Liz’s Instagram story for snippets of Peter. Even when you did check, her page hadn’t been updated since you left the dance, which was more confusing than the EPR Paradox. Liz loved nothing more than rubbing her success in the face of all of her followers and dangling Peter in front of you like a carrot to a donkey.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your window, slow and uniform and so concise that you wouldn’t have heard it had you been asleep.

You shrieked from the sudden noise that contrasted the melancholy quiet of your room. Carefully, you rose from your bed and peered out your window, surveying the thick glass pane with the utmost caution.

You pulled back your curtains, expecting to find some sort of bird or other city creature that you would have to scare off, only to reveal the face of the boy who broke your heart only a few hours prior. Peter Parker crouched on the rackety stairwell outside your window and beamed like a drunk man when he saw your face. Though hesitant, you reached for the latch locking your window and pushed it open wide enough to stick your head through, cold wind kissing your damp face.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” Peter smiled, his voice shaky and out of breath as if he had just ran an entire marathon to get to your floor. “I had to see you.”

“How did you even get out there? We don’t have a fire escape!”

“Yeah I know. And your building is like 3,000 floors up.” he chuckled lightly, though you were having a hard time finding the humor of the situation.

“What are you talking about? How did you-”

You stopped when you noticed the circle of purple surrounding his left eye. And then his split lips that were still dripping blood. Then several dirty, shallow cuts all over his face and neck. So clear and prevalent, you were shocked you hadn’t noticed them when you first saw him. Perhaps it was the shock that he was there at all.

“Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I want to talk to you about…”

That’s when you noticed the biggest change of them all. Peter’s classy suit you had last seen him in was a long time, now replaced by a red sweat shirt and blue sweat pants that were all too familiar. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Why he was all beaten up, exhausted, and easily hoisting himself up thousands of feet above busy New York streets.

“Holy shit, Peter!” you exclaimed as you came to your senses. He had to get out of the cold. “You-you’re Spider-Man?”

Peter nodded, his smile fading as his injuries caught up to him.

“Yeah and it’d be really nice to get out of the cold now, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh shit, yeah. Here-”

You reached to pull him in by his biceps, helping him through the opening of your window and into your room. He leaned against the wall once he was finally safe inside, sliding down to the floor. The metal squealed as you shut your window to cut off the cold and hurried over to turn the lights on as before you had been lonely in the dark. Peter’s dirt ridden face went wry as they flickered on.

“Oh, are you okay?!” you cried as you hurried back over to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter assured you. “Just bruised is all. And … I might’ve broken, uh, a couple ribs….”

“Oh Peter,” you frowned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Throwing one of his sturdy arms over your shoulder, you helped him cross your room to the connecting bathroom. You set him down to sit on the rim of the tub while you pulled out anything you had from the sink vanity that could help him.

“I don’t have much, most of the first aid is in my dad’s bathroom.” you explained, running warm water over a washcloth.

You kneeled before him, your dress bulging around you like the underside of a blooming purple rose.

Peter’s coffee eyes bore into yours and you reached out a hand to his cheek. He winced when you brushed a thumb over his black eye and once more when you held the wet cloth up to his temple with your other hand.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “It’s gonna sting a little.”

You started off slow, gently wiping up all of the dirt and debris from his cuts in soothing strokes. Peter seemed to adjust as his breathing slowed and the pained expression on his face faded into tranquility. He looked like he was exactly where he wanted to be. But you knew better. He was no longer yours to hold.

“How did this even happen?” you asked out of curiosity and a need to be distracted from your thoughts.

“I fought the Vulture. Took him down, finally.”

“The Vulture…” you repeated, having heard the name before from eavesdropping on your father. It all made sense now why Spider-Man was the only hero he refused to talk to you about. He was always up for answering all your queries on the other Avengers, be it the Black Widow’s childhood or Captain America’s most recent cultural slip up (common for the man from another time). But whenever you wanted to know anything about Spider-Man, even if you were sure it wouldn't compromise his anonymity, Tony Stark was radio silent. The habit annoyed you as Spider-Man was the only hero you ever wanted to know something about.

“I’ve been fighting him for weeks -” Peter paused as you cleaned up one of his ugliest cuts, grimacing before diving back into his explanation. “- he runs this crazy illegal weapons business.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’ve heard my dad talk about him. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this whole Spider-Man thing.”

“Yeah, sorry I sprung it on you like this. I really meant to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It makes sense.” you assured him, though the energy between you was off.

Normally when you two were together, it was as if everything about you both moved in sync. You were so similar with nearly the same interests and motivations, revolving around each other like stars before a solar nebula. But now you felt like the two of you had finally crashed together, wrecking havoc upon each other and it hurt to see him knowing he was in love with someone else.

“Have you been crying?” Peter asked, noticing the streaks of dark mascara that stretched across your plump cheeks.

You rose from your position on the tiled floor and returned to the sink to rinse all of the collected dirt from your washcloth and wash away some of the product from your face.

“It’s just been a rough night,” you tried, hoping he would drop the subject. “I’m glad you got to have fun at the dance though. Before your big fight.”

You awaited his confirmation, but instead of affirming your worst nightmare, Peter’s reply sparked a glimmer of hope.

“Actually, I didn’t really get to enjoy it much either. I left right after you did,” he admitted.

Your fingers worked carefully as you thought of a reply, delicately unscrewing the cap to the only ointment you kept in your bathroom and squeezing a pinkie sized dollop onto the back of your hand.

“I thought you asked Liz.” you kneeled before Peter once again and smoothed the ointment onto the worst of his cuts.

“I did,” Peter asserted, his face softening under your touch. “But only because I was too scared to ask my first choice.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks under the makeup that caked them as you felt the first semblance of a smile you’d had in days.

“Your first choice?”

Though you had been avoiding his pitiful gaze, you felt a sudden braveness to meet it now.

He nodded.

“I’ve wanted to ask you since they announced the theme.”

“Student council decided on making it the 80s months ago.” you unpuzzled aloud.

“I know.”

Shocked, you rose suddenly as your heart beat wildly as if to escape from its cavity. How was it that all your wildest dreams were coming true on the worst night of your life. You were having a hard time believing him, but Peter had never lied to you before. Why would he now?

Peter wanted to meet you where you were, but as he tried to stand, something twisted in his broken chest and he sank back down in anguish, clutching his abdomen.

“Oh Peter,” you fussed, quick to return to his side. “I should really take you to a hospital.”

“No, no hospitals,” he refused. Bringing his injuries to the attention of professionals was too dangerous. Too many people would ask questions he couldn’t answer. “I’ll be okay with some ice. I heal fast.”

“At least let me take a look then, so we know what we’re dealing with.” you urged.

Peter unzipped his hoodie at your request and you aided him as he struggled to get the thick fabric off his arms. Mud stained and discarded to the side of the tub, you suddenly became very aware of the fact that you had never seen Peter in any kind of naked capacity once he was before you with a bare chest. It would’ve made it easier if he wasn’t a superhero and hiding the immaculate tapestry of musculature beneath his flannels and plain t-shirts. But he was, and now you were fighting to narrow your gaze on the dark bruises on the left side of his lower rib cage instead of taking in the whole view. You failed.

“It hurts the most here,” Peter pointed to the purple swirls of skin that were far too large for him to be so calm about it. He made no mention of your ogling, if he had even noticed at all.

You snapped back into caretaker mode, searching every drawer and cabinet for something that could work.

“I don’t have any actual ice, but I think I have - oh where is it?” you searched frantically. “Aha! Found it.”

You pulled a plastic circle of brightly colored water from the depths of one of your drawers, an adequate size to cover up the worst portion of Peter’s bruise. You knocked it against the nearest counter too, watching as the liquid inside froze instantaneously.

“Here, this should help with the swelling.” you stated, gently covering Peter’s bruise with the ice pack. He shivered when the cold made contact with his bare skin, but after some time to adjust, the pain was clearly relieved.

“Thanks,” he smiled, reaching a hand up to take over your job of holding the pack. “I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” you promised, and if what he said was true, perhaps Peter Parker would be around a lot more often. “But maybe you shouldn’t make a habit of fighting off giant metal birds.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. He’s the Fed’s problem now.”

There was a beat of silence as you took a seat beside Peter and the sight of your dress reminded you of the impending question that stuck in your throat. Only this time, there was no interruption to stop it from coming out.

“Why didn’t you ask me to the dance?”

“God, it sounds so stupid now,” Peter cringed. “I want to say it was mostly because I wasn’t sure how you would respond, but in all honesty, I was scared of your dad.”

“I thought you liked him.” you questioned, recalling the bewildered look on Peter’s face when he found out your father was Tony Stark. Back then you assumed he had been a fan, but now you surmised it was much deeper.

“I do, so much. But after the ferry incident, I couldn’t risk screwing up again.”

From the bits and pieces you had overheard about Spider-Man from your dad, you already knew much about the split ferry. Though no one got hurt, you knew your father still fumed when thinking about it.

“Oh,” you realized, connecting all the pieces like shards of a broken vase fusing back into one. For the first time since you found out about Liz, you started to feel whole again. Whole and so stupid for ever doubting Peter. And it was all thanks to the dramatic antics of your father. “Oh, I’m gonna kill him.”

Peter shared your amusement, giggling quieter than normal so as to not upset his broken ribs. A comforting silence followed and you were no longer hesitant as you returned his lingering gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter confessed. “I thought I was protecting our friendship, but when I saw you at the dance, looking so gorgeous in your dress, I knew I was wrong. It’s so stupid now, but I didn’t want to risk losing what we already have. I see now how wrong I was and how I almost lost the very person I need the most.”

“You really mean that?” you questioned, touched by his honesty.

“I do.”

Peter always stared at you as if you were the most beautiful person to ever walk the face of the Earth and the occasion was no different. Even with tear stained cheeks and a wrinkled purple dress, you could still see the same affection in his expression. You were exactly who he wanted.

He muttered your name, reaching a hand over to grasp one of yours. “I like you so much. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am that I made you think any differently.”

Squeezing his hand, you shifted closer to him.

“I like you too.”

Peter leaned into you, his hand fluttering to cup your cheek as his thumb traced the line curve of your bottom lip.

“Can I-” he whispered, sweet enough to ask for your permission. However, you had been waiting on this day for years and you couldn’t waste another minute. So you brought your lips to his.

Slow and soft, the kiss didn’t last too long. You were forced to stop before it grew too intense on a count of Peter’s poor ribs.

“Wanna sleep over?” you offered, unwilling to let Peter go in such condition and for your own reasons.

“Will your dad even let me?”

“He doesn’t have to know…” you grinned. “- besides, I’ve been so depressed the past few days that he’ll pretty much let me do whatever I want. I could kill someone and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“I hope I can fix it all.” Peter’s regret shone through his voice. His apologies weren’t sufficient and you could tell he would carry this guilt for another decade or so. But he didn’t need to. You two had figured it out after all.

“I already feel a million times better because of you.”

You helped Peter into a set of clean clothes, a shirt he’d left behind once when the two of you went swimming and some shorts you stole from your dad’s closet (though you didn’t let Peter know that to ease his conscience).

Once you were in your own pajamas, the two of you huddled together under the warmth of your duvet, wrapped up in each other.

“This is so nice,” Peter mumbled groggily into your skin, his face close to yours and his eyes nearly shut. You gave a hum of agreement, too comfortable to let any real reply out. Peter’s arms around you seemed to have that effect. “I was so wrong before. I’d much prefer to deal with your dad’s temper over Liz’s any day if it meant getting to hold you again. Tony’s temper is much more manageable than the Vulture.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, jumping up from his comfort.

Peter groaned, reaching a hand for his bruised ribs as he started to retreat mentioning it at all. He forgot you weren’t used to his Spidery habits yet.

“Peter, you can’t just say things like that and not explain.”

“Can’t it wait until morning?” he moaned.

“Nope.”

#tom holland x you #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spider man #spider man homecoming #enchanted #marvel

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tomicscomics · 4 months ago

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02/28/2025

How could they forget Ash Succotash?!

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. Ash Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, a Catholic season of contemplation, preparation, sacrifice, and humility. If you go to Ash Wednesday Mass, you get ashes on your forehead in the shape of a cross. Catholics are supposed to fast (eat less than normal) and abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday. 2. In this cartoon, Emi tests Agnes on some made-up Ash Wednesday terminology. Not one answer in this whole thing is a real term, though some of them are probably things that exist. For example, priests must have some sort of ash stash for all those ashes, though they might not call it that. 3. At the end of the cartoon, Emi implies that she's taught Agnes that, if she eats meat on Ash Wednesday, she'll be whipped by "the ash lash." Emi's mother finally hears what the girls are talking about and yells at Emi for making stuff up.

#catholic #christian #comic #cartoon #catholic memes #christian memes #jesus memes #tomics #ash wednesday #lent #agnes #emo emi #scourging children for dietary defiance #so hilarious

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6atals · 5 months ago

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[ 성훈 ] 𝜗𝜚 ┈ sunghoon just can’t get enough of you. can’t you get enough of him?

𝓃𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆!𝓈𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 ˖ 𝒻𝗲𝗺!𝓇𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 g. fluff , slightly suggestive , humor , skinship , established relationship. 312wc, 1441Cs ─── ℛ𝙀𝘼𝘿𝒾𝗡𝗚 𝓈𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 (coming soon ??) . 𓋜 . intimacy , lover boy sunghoon ⟡ ⋆ not requested! guidelines coming soon!

ℳ𝗶𝗿𝗮’𝘀 𝓃𝗼𝘁𝗲! 🗯️ . . . first fic on here im a little scared to see how this is gonna go but it’s worth a shot! likes and reposts are very appreciated !

the softly dimmed light shined across the living room floor as you walked inside. being exhausted from work wasn’t the best feeling at all. constantly getting yelled at, having coffee spilled onto your work uniform, and spoiled lunch? wasn’t on your bingo card. you slipped off your shoes, sighing in relief and walking to the couch to put your stuff down.

“hoon?” you yelled out.

no answer. that’s weird.

you yelled out again and walked upstairs. “hoonie!”

you giggled as you saw his sleeping form, dark brown hair splayed across his forehead as his mouth slightly open, creating a small “oval” shape. his light snores were heard from the doorframe.

his groggy voice called out to you, “y/n?” he mumbled out, his eyes slowly opening up as he sat up to grab you but you were far away. you walked over to you, sitting down into his lap. his arms immediately caged you in, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort before laying back down and smiling.

“hoonie, i haven’t changed out my clothes yet..” you giggled out as he held you tighter. “doesn’t matter.” sunghoon mumbled. he didn’t care about anything but holding you into his arms until you let it down.

a few seconds later you calmed down inside his arms, you really needed that. work was so stressful and you couldn’t stand to have anything in the way of your boyfriend holding you in his arms. “i love you. okay? don’t let anyone tell you differently.” sunghoon mumbled again, caressing your head as if you were a fragile child.

his hands glided against your waist like a soft feather, slowly caressing your body as if you were a doll. you melted into his arms like puddy and kissed up his neck, not caring about anything worries you had tomorrow, because none of it mattered when you were with him.

“you think i can pick you up baby?” he whispered, but you were already fast asleep in his arms. sunghoon smiled, lifting you up and putting you on your side of the bed before wrapping his arms around you once more.

“goodnight baby.” he whispered once more.

can’t you get enough of him?

do not copy, repost or steal my works.

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project-lumen · 6 months ago

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Have you ever wondered how the Life Series would look like as a videogame?

Then I bring to you…

Project LUMEN: APPLICATIONS OPEN!!

Ever wanted to relive the stories woven by the Watchers, exceeding the limits of what Minecraft is able to offer? How about venturing in a perilous journey full of twists and turns, and most importantly, loooooooooooore?

Well, why hello there! To kick off the start of 2025, Kori, Arto and Pinkie here, and we are proud to present “Project LUMEN”! Our newest scheme to conceptualize and develop a video game based off the traffic-colored hearts we are all so familiar with. An ambitious project, that’s for sure, and that is why we are opening applications to join our little team, right on time to welcome the new year! :]

(way more info under the cut, get ready)

Once a pile of jumbled, senseless ideas, Project LUMEN has evolved into a more fleshed-out collection of story beats and mechanics. An RPG-like game revolving around the tales within the Life Series, a collection of death games ran by the mysterious deities that call themselves Watchers. The player takes on the role of the Watcher Child (affectionately referred to as WC), following and guiding the Champions chosen by the Watchers themselves through challenges and enemies. Featuring unique leveling systems, DnD inspired classes, and, most importantly, the ability to impact the story with the choices you make… because, after experiencing all the Life Series seasons from both the Watcher and the Player side, maybe you’ll have a change of mind. After all is said and done and seen, the world is yours to shape, Watcher Child.

Right, so that’s a basic summary of the concept we have, now here’s a little preview of what we have written for the prologue :3

Chapter 0: ‘The Watcher’s Apprentice’

The player takes the form of a Watcher in training, an ageless child, the Watcher Child. The most powerful and ancient Watchers, unexplained cryptic creatures that live up to their name by watching all, talk about a new series of experiments they have been running, called “The Life Series”.

The only rundown that the WC was given was that a carefully selected group of talented players were asked to test their little Life game for them, where they each have only three lives. Whoever survives last, wins. There were no rules as to how they could play the games. The Watchers then add that they, along other WCs, will be observing from the viewpoint and thoughts of one of the players. This is so the WC can get an idea of the Watchers' work. Of course, our little WC was ecstatic and ever so curious about this new idea.

Fast-forward (and after a couple of tutorials showing off the bare basics of the battle mechanics in the actual game), now our WC was standing in a circle with other apprentices just like them. The Watchers then hold a deck of mystic cards in front of each of them, and everyone picks one. When the cards are revealed, our WC sees a glowing, red card with a person on it. The card simply said, "THE SUN".

Huh, I wonder who could that be…

Now, we get into the thick of it: who are we searching for to join our team? Well, there are some requirements that the potential members should fulfill, here’s a comprehensive list of key points:

We are mainly looking for artists to help us with designs, sprites, backgrounds and UI. Although, we also welcome any writers willing to help us with developing concepts and adding more ideas!

Every person who applies should be involved with the Life Series fandom, we want to build a team with people as passionate about this Minecraft series as we are!

When answering the Application Form, please type in your favorite type of flower (in case you do not have one, just write 'sunflower') in the "Anything else to add?" part, this is only to ensure you've read the announcement :]

Welp, glad you asked. The current plan is, while the applications go on for a week or two, constantly post pieces of concept art and just story bits on this blog, then all the people selected to join the team will be added to the blog as members. We plan to post updates, concept art, sprites and small lore drops periodically on that blog to hopefully garner an audience, and it will also be open for asks and suggestions so that, even if some users aren’t part of the team, they can still help bring this absolute beast of a game to life. Ideally we will work on a small demo experience first with placeholders and stuff to just get the mechanics right and get some testers, and after that, use all feedback, polish the art, deliver a beta version for playtesting, then fix the last details and then release the full version on itch.io, that’s our roadmap. :D (there's the possibility to also publish a browser version to Newgrounds with mobile compatibility tho, so mobile users do not fear!)

Well, Project LUMEN is a very, very hefty task, a big plan to undertake, and, in all honesty, too much work for only three people. Also, talking from experience, having other person involved in development has helped LUMEN to give gigantic steps, helping to ground ideas and give inspiration, now, imagine how far we could go if we had more people in this squad. We are not only looking for artists, we are looking for people whom we can brainstorm with and throw concepts around to polish them and grow the game even more. However, we also wish to keep the team directly working on the game fairly reduced, we are thinking 3–5 people more, but depending on the amount of responses we have, we might consider expanding that number.

The spirit of the game is to be made by the community for the community, we want to offer a quality game, and, by working together, we will be able to make Project LUMEN the best it can be. Though, you need to be aware that this project is solely fueled by the passion we have for the Life Series, and we will not profit off it at all. Please, take into account that this is likely going to be a months-long project, and only apply if you are willing to put in the effort in the long-run, that’s all we ask for.

On the bright side though, by joining in the developing of the game, you’ll be able to contribute to it as much as you’d like, change anything, add anything! You’ll have your rightful spot in the credits and probably a cameo in-game, the team may be small, but we know that, with the right people, we will be able to get it done (cleo is in the storyline too dw).

Application Form!

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theegyal · 1 month ago

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FADED, (Annie X Smoke) FANFICTION (SINNERS. 2025)

Tag List : @bigjh @boonoonoonus ,@saralance03 , @stormynovashambler @lsc72 , @prettyisasprettydoes1306

CHAPTER 3

A slow gasp swept through the room like wind stirrin' leaves.

People turned. Eyes darted. Someone coughed awkward, someone else laughed too loud tryin' to fill the silence.

Annie didn't speak. Her mouth opened just a crack, but no sound came out.

The only noise was the slow drip of sauce, slidin' down her calf.

Leonhard didn't flinch. Didn't even pretend to look surprised.

Instead, she tilted her head like a snake preyin' on a wounded mouse.

"Oh dear," she said, voice syrupy-slow. "You'll want someone to clean that up. Unless... oh. Was that your job, sweetie?"

That last word cracked like a whip.

The Delta men and women around hissed in anger. How could one of their own—Smoke—allow a white woman to speak down to their sister like that?

Annie was more than a priestess, more than a passerby. She was spirit and backbone, cooked for the sick, prayed for the widows, kept the dead company when nobody else would.

Her isolation had been her own choice, but that didn't make her any less of a pillar in the community.

Annie still didn't look at the white lady. She stared at Smoke. At his mouth that wouldn't move, at his eyes that didn't blink. Her hands trembled.

She bent, gathered the pieces—not all of them. Just enough to feel busy, to do somethin', anything other than stand there lookin' all broken.

"Annie—" Smoke finally breathed.

She stood—back straight, eyes dry. No tears, no curses. She knew better than to trust him again. Foolish, the way her heart still beat fast at his honeyed lies.

She stay still for one second.

Then turned and walked off the dance floor. Not too fast. Not dramatically.

"Wait—Annie!"

Smoke took one step after her.

But Leonhard slid in front of him, gloved hand resting lightly on his chest like she had every right to touch him.

"Don't be rude," she said with a condescending smile. "We've come all this way. You owe me a conversation, Elijah."

Smoke's fists clenched, jaw pulsin'.

"Not now."

"Yes. Now. Unless you want everyone here watchin' the prodigal twin run off after his... chef in the middle of a family reunion?"

Stack saw the blaze flarin' up in his brother's and Slim's eyes. It was either hit her or walk away. And Smoke didn't hit women. Not even vipers.

"I'll go," Stack said low. "I'll get her."

Smoke didn't look away from Leonhard. "You make sure she gets home."

"I ain't lettin' her walk in the dark, barefoot, all shook up."

Stack spun on his heel and broke through the crowd, mutterin' apologies as he passed.

Mary tried to make him stay, but miserably failed. He reassured her slightly with fortune of an unforgettable night and then went off.

Outside, the night was heavy with cold heat and crickets, moonlight slicin' through the trees.

He saw Annie ahead, dress hitchin' above her ankles, feet movin' fast down the dirty road.

"Annie!" he called. "Annie, hold up!"

She didn't stop.

"Ay, please, mama, don't do this! Just let me drive you home."

Still walkin'. Shoulders tight.

He jogged, caught up to her, but didn't touch her. It was not the right time. Not tonight.

"Please," he panted. "You ain't gotta be out here alone. You shakin'. Just get in the truck."

She stopped then. The priestess was indeed exhausted, and her body sore. She would have even granted consent to the devil to bring her home.

Stack swallowed, wiped sweat from his brow. "I know my brother's a damn fool. All mighty, powerful but still a clown. I do. But don't let him mess you up like this, Annie. Not like this."

The moonlight gleamed through the trees, drawin' faerie shapes on her glowin' obsidian skin. She did not cry. The tears were blind.

Stack stood stiff, lingered his eyes on her silhouette.

She looked like a hymn unsung, like a gospel the devil ain't dared corrupt. Her dress clung to her body, to them hips that swayed like they had their own rhythm, them big, roundish breasts lifted proud beneath thin fabric where her brown hard nipples rested—he could swear they still carried the warmth of sweat and honey, the same sweet fluids he dreamed of tastin', of drownin' in.

He imagined his mouth where his thoughts shouldn't wander—on her neck, down her back, between her thighs, her voluptuous ass, whisperin' apologies only skin could hear. He saw her archin', beggin', cursin' his name like it was salvation.

Silence.

"I'll drive," she said finally, brutally tearing him away from his reveries. "I ain't ridin' with no man tonight."

Stack blinked, stunned for half a second—then nodded, handed her the keys.

"Fair enough."

They walked back toward the truck together. Not talkin'.

Clearly, Stack needed fresh air, and being alone with Annie in this truck didn't help him. He was such an evil man. Nurturing these immoral fantasies about his brother's woman.

Well, with what happened tonight, do they still stand as a couple? Regardless, Stack needed—no, must—try to cool down the affairs between them.

"You know" he started "this bitch ain't really his lady."

"I could push your ass off your own truck."

"Got it," he shut his mouth.

Strangely, seeing her all mad was enough to help Stack cool down.

After long hours on the road, they finally arrived at the wooden cabin. The dandy stepped out, to lead her inside the house, but was immediately stopped in his endeavors.

"I'd rather not have you in. I need some space. It's not against you—"

"All good, ma'. I'm already honored you let me drive you home. Well, not in that way, but—you get what I mean."

She let out an anxious laugh and excused herself.

Back inside the juke joint, the air had curdled.

The people weren't drinkin' as much. Sammie and Slim continued the show but the notes sounded hesitant, like even the guitar strings didn't want to offend Annie's departure.

Leonhard stood near the bar, she tapped one manicured nail against the glass, lips curled in a devilish smirk.

"Quite the performance," she drawled to no one in particular. "I didn't think she'd break so easily. Thought she had more spine, the way she was glaring at Eli, ready to devour him whole"

Leonhard's smile didn't falter. She turned toward the gathering pals, her icy blue eyes cold as a porcelain plate. "Oh, is the celebration over ?"

" at the right time Jefferson's daughter step in. Ha" spilled Slim

"Oh, please," Leonhard said with a light laugh. "You're all acting theatrically. I simply asked a question. And she ran off like a scalded cat."

Slim's jaw ticked. "You in our house now. You don't get to come in here and piss on the floor, then act surprised when it stinks."

That earned a couple low chuckles, but nobody was smiling wide.

Smoke stood near the door, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw locked. He hadn't spoken since Stack left. Didn't even glance Leonhard's way.

She noticed.

"Smoke," she cooed, sidling up beside him, heels clicking like accusation. "Are you really going to give me the silent treatment all night? After I traveled all this way?"

"You shouldn't've come," he said flat.

Her laugh was light, but the tremor in her throat betrayed her. "Well, I did. And now I'm here. And don't pretend you don't owe me some words."

"I owe you nothin'," he said dangerously

She leaned closer. "Except maybe the truth. Or maybe an apology for parading your... nanny around like she means somethin'."

The slap didn't come from Smoke.

It came from Grace.

A clean crack resonated through the room.

Leonhard's face turned with the blow, but she didn't stumble. Her cheek reddened as blood bloomin' beneath her glass skin.

Leonhard straightened. Touched her cheek, gently. "Well. That was uncalled for."

"No," Slim said. "That was overdue."

Leonhard looked around—at the faces now turned fully toward her, all unwelcoming. The invisible barrier that protected her all her life, her whiteness, social privileges, false elegance—was paper-thin here. And it had just torn.

"And you're going to stay silent,Moore !"

Smoke finally grinned. Here the truth unveiled. She never called him by his real name. Just the name of the man who'd marked them both in blood and shame: Moore.

"Just go back to Chicago Leonhard" he growled , cigarette between his lips.

She scoffed, lips curling. "Why? This little backwoods party isn't over yet."

"Yeah? What are you here for?" another voice cut in—Stack. He stepped forward, hand in his pocket, eyes cold. "This Negroes land, madam."

Leonhard turned her head toward him like she was being addressed by a stray dog. "And my man is one. I can accommodate."

A blade. She was doing too much.

Customers, one after another started exiting the club ; They try indeed to relax and ease their mind off the plantation. Certainly not to come dealing with a new face of oppression at night.

We should have not come

These twins were no good from the start

First it was ol' Mary, now another white chick from the North

Cornbread scratched the back of his head, eyes dartin' toward the door. "Yeah, uh—I think I gotta get on, Stack. You know... wife's pregnant and all."

"Ay. See you pal" cuts off the younger twin.

Ten minutes blended, and almost everyone gone.

Then Slim burst out laughin', loud and ugly.

" Ha Ha Ha. Damn I was right nigga, you pay for only a night ! Ha Ha Ha"

He doubled over, shoulders shakin', the sound ringing in the hollow space.

Nobody else laughed.

Not a bug.

Leonhard's lips tightened at the sound of Slim's laughter. Her spine stiffened, cheeks flushed from rage. She felt insulted.

"May I know, what is so funny ?" she asked, turning her cold gaze at him.

Slim leaned back, arms stretched across the chair, gold tooth catchin' the dim light.

"Oh, I ain't laughin' at you, sugar,"

he drawled, voice drenched in mischief. "I'm laughin' at the situation. You know, rich white lady showin' up in a colored joint tryin' to own every single soul. Ain't everyday we get Broadway drama down in the Delta."

Leonhard's smile thinned, venom behind her teeth.

"Charming. Is this the kind of wit that passes for clever down here?"

Smoke chuckled low, Stack louder.

"Oh, she mad now," Stack teased, elbowin' Smoke. "She gon' write about us in her memoirs."

"Life Among the Heathens: A Southern Tragedy," Smoke added, smirkin'.

That was enough.

Mary, who'd been quiet too long, advanced forward.

"Leona," she said gently, laying a hand on the woman's arm, "why don't we head back to the lodge. It's late."

Leonhard hesitated, still staring down Slim. But then she caught the look in Mary's eyes calm, composed, disapproving.

She adjusted her silk attire. "Yes. Let's."

Without another glance at the twins, she turned and strode toward the door. Mary gave the men a quick, tired look.

The door creaked shut behind them.

#stack x annie #smoke x annie #annie x elijah #smoke sinners #sinners #fanfiction #black authors

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 8 months ago

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Good Omens graphic novel update: October 2024

Happy October everyone, happy Halloween, and happiest of birthday months to our favourite of planets, Earth. A lot has been going on in the world of Good Omens this past month, so let's focus on some ineffable joy.

We have some exciting updates on the production front - we've got test copies of earlier sections of the graphic novel printed off to see how it looks in person and Colleen’s artwork, combined with Lois Buhalis’ masterful lettering, sings on the page. A coveted item at the Estate's HQ.

It feels very real as we get to hold some samples in our hands. Colleen feels so too, as she noted on Instagram: "Letters by Lois Buhalis are perfection. Colors better than I dreamed they could be. Was really worried about the reds and blues. Incredibly rich and deep. The end is near."

Trading cards are coming in thick and fast from our duo of artists Steve Gregson and Kirsty Hunter. We’ve inadvertently ended up with a lot of duck love in the campaign, so here’s some of the samples from the deck’s artwork, including a new addition to the Good Omens duck canon, and a little divine intervention:

The Colleen Doran and Paul Kidby variants, to name a few, are also shaping up nicely, but we'll save those for future.

We have received the creator notebook samples and we couldn’t be more in love with the Terry Pratchett one. Behold:

Capturing your inner Pratchett on the page feels all the more magical with this one.

With Earth’s birthday being 21st October, let’s showcase some of its glorious settings throughout the graphic novel to wrap up.

Admin

A big admin update for this month.

Antichrist Tier

We have been in touch regarding information for the accompanying cameo postcard. Thank you to all who have gotten back so far - if you’re unsure if you’ve given information, or want to double check, please message us via Kickstarter on the account you used to back the tier, and we will get back to you.

Obsidian Tier

You have been sent information for your individual trading card. Thank you to those who have completed this and submitted your photos so far. As above, if you’re unsure if you’ve given information or have any questions, contact the Estate via Kickstarter.

General

We have received a number of queries on when items will ship as we have passed the original estimated July date. To confirm, the Good Omens graphic novel - and all its respective tiers, merchandise and items - will ship in Spring 2025. This is outlined more fully in this update from earlier this year. We appreciate your support and patience.

If you have a query, please check the FAQ page at terrypratchett.com. It answers many recurring questions received across the year, and includes key upcoming dates and cut-offs for particular queries, as production cranks up a gear.

If your question has not been answered, get in touch and the Estate will get back to you as we are able.

Onwards with the ineffable adventure. We appreciate you being on this journey with us.

#good omens #good omens graphic novel #graphic novel #colleen doran

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riddlemearose · 4 months ago

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Linked Universe Combat Guide (part 2)

This is Part 2 of my attempt to make my fight scene notes into a coherent and understandable guide. Lord only knows if I'm being successful on that.

Part 1 can be found here.

General Notes once again:

The additional weapons/equipment is anything outside of the literal sword and shield you get in-game that could be used as a weapon, but does not include bombs, bows + arrows, or boomerangs bc I'm not writing that every time.

7 out of 9 Links are left-handed and this will have an affect on combat if they're fighting against human enemies.

-> any ambidextrous fighters in the group is largely a headcanon but go nuts w/ it.

This is looking at lore-accurate fighting ability bc you can scale down to however you headcanon they fight. Any additional arguments are logical conclusions/presumptions I'm making off of their in-game skills and/or character history.

Once again, researched to the best of my ability but I'm not claiming this has everything in every game. Fact checking is welcomed!

Also here's an article discussing the pros and cons of chainmail vs plate armour, since this group is the more armoured lot of the Chain

Minor update 9 March 2025: added a link to a reblog explaining a note on Warriors' section in better depth.

Upadte 3 May 2025: added more info to Warriors' section, provided by @interlink-au, as well as amended & added to other sections with more info they gave me in their reblog.

Sky

The most important thing in Skyward Sword’s combat is that you are fast. You Are Speed. That is Sky’s greatest advantage.

Feint. Always, always feint; then, when the enemy goes to block the feint, quickly attack from the opposite direction.

Sword techniques*: -> Shield Bash: reflects projectiles and knocks enemies off balance. Requires perfect timing but leaves an opening to take advantage of. -> front-flip slash -> back-flip slash -> jump attack -> fatal blow -> Skyward Strike/Sword Beams *Certain techniques cost stamina.

Unlike Warriors and Wild, Sky is near the start of the timeline, meaning he doesn’t have the same type of modern military-esque knighthood structure that future versions of Hyrule have. Consequently, we don’t see anyone in Skyward Sword really use any weapons outside of short swords, leading me to believe Sky’s main proficiency is really in them alone.

Sky is highly adaptable in a fight. He learns very quickly when enemies will block and when they will go to attack, which means he can deal with them extremely quickly. Arguably this means that he is not exactly built for long-term fights, but he can get through them if he must. I’d almost call him as a Glass Cannon, but he’s sturdier than that, so he gets the Lightning Bruiser name tag instead.

Happily arguing that Sky would be very good at mounted archery, even if it's obviously different to horseback. I know Loftwings can be taught that corkscrew manoeuvre that acts as an attack, but given sword-based combat wouldn't be feasible when you're riding a giant bird so I'm dying on this hill.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> whip (pls use this, whip fighting is great. They can deal a lot of damage if you hit someone with the end.) -> clawshots -> slingshot/scatter-shot -> gust bellows -> guardian potion+ (invulnerability, baby!)

Time

Time is fun bc he’s about 20 years older than he was during his adventures, which means you can kinda go ham with what he does and doesn’t know.

To kick things off, Time gets the honour of being the first Link (on this list) to have canonical multiple sword proficiencies: longsword, and short sword + shield. I will very happily argue and die on the hill that Time 100% has some staff proficiency given how Deku sticks can be used in OOT. If you go with this, use European-style quarterstaff techniques instead of Chinese-style bō/gun staffs.

The Biggoron sword isn’t any specific type of longsword, given the sheer weirdness of its blade shape. I think most people seem to agree that it’s a great sword, which at the extreme basics is essentially a longer longsword. I use claymore combat videos to get a feel for writing the Biggoron sword, and have used this specific video a few times.

Given Time’s +20 years from his adventures, we all pretty much believe he's mastered the Hidden Skills he passes onto Twilight, both with a short sword and the Biggoron sword. These are still gonna be listed in Twilight’s segment however, given they feature in his game.

Time also has a magical aspect to his combat, both in terms of literal magic items and then his two combat-focused spells.

Potentially Combat-Focused Masks: -> Transformative Masks: Deku Mask, Zora Mask, Goron Mask, Fierce Deity Mask, Giant’s Mask -> Other Masks: Blast Mask, Bunny Hood, Stone Mask

Spells: -> Din’s Fire -> Nayru’s Love

Important note: as stupid as this reminder is going to sound, Time only has one eye. He has a decreased field of view and decreased depth perception. He probably has a way to compensate for this, but it is a disability that shouldn't be forgotten. My mother is visually impaired in one eye and it affects how she reads things, how she drives, how she uses footpaths etc etc. It's not ableist to remark on Time's partial lack of sight. If anything, how he compensates for it is something I've been meaning to explore - I just haven't been able to get my head to world build it coherently.

Thanks to interlink-au for reminding me I didn't add this, but Time is good at mounted combat. I'm hesitant to say he's able to do mounted archery with his vision impairment though as, if I use my mother's experience (legally blind in one eye but has some vision), his depth perception is probably crap.

Additional Equipment/Weapons: -> powder keg (yes, Time carries TNT) -> hookshots -> longshot -> Deku nut -> Deku stick -> slingshot -> golden gauntlets -> megaton hammer -> Great Fairy Sword (according to info found by interlink-au, this is now likely an arming sword, which is just a fancy word for a broadsword tbh) -> Gilded Sword

Twilight

The Tank™

Most adept at horseback combat. An FYI but the fact that Twi defaults to using a one-handed sword on horseback is extremely telling of this point. For the most part, light cavalry were equipped with polearms/lances and bows with a sabre on the side. I know it's partially an animation thing but Twi being confident enough to get close to an enemy on horseback to use a one-handed sword is huge sign of his skill and proficiency.

Hidden Skills: -> Ending blow -> Shield attack -> Back slice -> Helm Splitter -> Mortal Draw (my beloved <3) -> Jump Strike -> Great Spin

Extremely important to remember how stupidly strong Twilight is. Dude can yeet a charging Goron, only needing his iron boots to stay where he is. This can be showcased in multiple ways: fist-fighting, emphasis of the strength of his shield bash, etc etc. He's likely capable of hand-to-hand combat as well, given his strength and knowledge of sumo wrestling.

Most tanks are slow, but Twi is actually rather speedy, even as a hylian.

(Btw if Twi places a bomb on the ground in front of him and holds his shield up, he will take no damage when the bomb explodes. Fantastic way to kill stalfos and annoy Darknuts.)

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> slingshot -> ball and chain -> clawshots -> dominion rod (if you're feeling experimental) -> spinner (?????? Somehow????) -> crossbow -> Twi’s weird magic armour (note: crossbows don't actually replace bows; they have their own pros and cons. See this YouTube short for some context)

As a wolf:

This is where Twilight becomes less of a Tank and more of a Glass Cannon. Wolves are very fast and, depending on how much Twili magic you headcanon Twilight has access to, he can get in and out of combat easily.

But most importantly, Twilight has very little defence as a wolf so he can't tank hits nearly as well as he can as a hylian (as the comic has already shown).

Main threat is obviously his jaw strength; Twilight is able to latch onto enemies, usually by biting down on their throats or shoulders. Pls be aware that ordinary wolves can bite through bone if they get the angle right.

Normal wolves don’t attack with their claws bc they’re not cats, but Twilight has human-level intelligence and can do whatever he wants within the confines of his body.

Twi also has a charge spin attack as a wolf. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Warriors

Proficient in multiple weapons and has adaptable fighting styles.

A few of his canonical fighting styles are listed at the end but depending on which era of knighthood you want to take inspiration from, he can also be proficient in lances and pole-arms, long-swords and sabres, and hand-to-hand combat (predominately Greco-Roman style wrestling but don’t let that stop you).

No specific sword techniques shown outside of the spin attack and jump slash. -> Updated info from interlink-au, which I'm just going to copy and paste for ease of access, with minor edits so this doesn't get bogged down: "First off, he is very fast. He needs to get around that battlefield quickly to help struggling allies. Even without the Master Sword, he can do something similar to a sword beam (a disc-shaped air slash). With the Master Sword, his swords beams are ridiculous. He can spam those things left and right and in the air, and send 3 at the same time. He can also do a vertical spin and spin attack into the air, where he can get some normal slashes in while he’s aerial. He can juggle enemies in the air for a second. He has a move where he dodges and immediately follows with a thrust. Its use reminds me of Wind’s parry attack. He also has a shield bash (more like a charge) followed by a sword thrust. Wars' magic rod doubles as a fire rod. The magic rod portion shoots laser beams and controls orbs. The fire portion can send out fire pillars/tornados. He can even send out a stream of fire that flies around like a dragon. He can even transform it into a battle axe for some reason."

Also proficient in combat on horseback but I’m not listing his Epona as a weapon lmao. -> interlink-au added that Wars is good at mounted archery too!

Has an innate passive (potentially magic?) ability to tag enemies with a ‘Light Mark’, which causes them to take increased damage from every attack for as long as his Triforce mark is glowing. This is triggered after a certain amount of enemies are killed and ends a few seconds after he stops dealing damage. Best used in his era but still viable in others.

Also, Wars’ lil inverse-grip upward slash finisher for one of his Master Sword combos? *chef’s kiss emoji* we love to see it -> (reverse grips are technically not great bc of the increased chance of literally breaking your wrist, among other things. However it looks cool as hell) -> Update: for more info on this bc I hadn't explained it well, I've covered it in more depth in this reblog here.

A lot of Wars’ fighting style is best copied from visual mediums, but given that search results generally like to give you Age of Calamity videos, this video is a good one to focus on. interlink-au also points out that his other fighting styles in-game are very useful to study visually, but I'm not going to list them here in-depth. Here are some links to videos for them. -> Ball and Chain (note: power/silver gauntlets should be thought of as separate too and would be very good for intense hand-to-hand combat - think Vi from Arcane). -> Spinner -> Magic/Fire Rod

Full disclaimer I tried to play Hyrule Warriors in December. I got through 5 hours and the game gave me such wicked eye strain I couldn't look at a screen for 2 days straight so I had to stop. But what I did pick up is Wars is not someone to fold quickly under pressure. You do a lot of that game with very few PCs on the map while a LOT of emergencies come at you full-speed. Wars is fantastic at balancing out who needs help literally right this second and who he unfortunately has to delay assisting. These are not easy decisions to make, but they are extremely critical ones that must be made in war or any combat zone.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> fire rod -> power gauntlets (from interlink-au, this is used w/ the ball and chain and also separately. -> spinner (again, potentially??? Somehow. I will put this Beyblade into a fight scene one day) -> hookshots -> hammer

Wild

The Ultimate Dodge Tank

BOTW’s entire combat system is literally "Do Not, Under Any Circumstances, Get Hit", to the point where the game actively rewards you for dodging and parrying. This means that Wild’s entire fighting style is based around memorising everyone else’s fighting styles.

Proficient in multiple weapons and weapon-types (i.e. short swords, slashing swords, longswords and spears) and good at using bows in close combat, though he does not get to utilise his champion ability while dodging if he’s holding a bow.

Pls be aware I do actually mean it when I say ‘multiple weapon types’. You DO NOT use a scimitar the same way you use a broadsword, nor a battle axe the same way you do with a claymore. Me @ BOTW’s animations: CHANGE THE FIGHTING STYLES UP YOU COWARDS.

No specialised sword techniques outside of the basic spin attack and downwards slash.

Proficient with all weapon-types while in mounted combat (either on a horse or the Master Cycle Zero), and great at mounted archery too obviously.

Has arguably the strongest Champion Ability next to Urbosa’s Fury, as it’s automatically triggered if the conditions are met and is very hard to block or defend against. And on that topic, let’s begin.

Flurry Rush: -> damage output adjusted for weapon type used (short swords attack x7 times, long swords attack x4 and spears attack x7-10) -> bypasses enemy shields and invincibility frames -> Wild can be knocked out of this (either by being damaged by an enemy or by mistiming the start of his flurry rush – i.e. landing on a sloped surface will cancel a flurry rush before it begins.) -> flurry rushes still affect weapon durability

Bullet Time: -> requires falling from height obviously. -> Your Stamina! It Goes Down! -> also this is the only thing that really changed in TOTK’s combat: stamina is used when firing arrows, not just by entering bullet time itself.

Perfect Guard: -> you can perfect parry literally almost anything, including a bokoblin being thrown at you by a moblin, wolves, and apparently bees. -> negates explosive damage (i.e. remote bombs, bomb arrows, that one Lynel attack) if you manage to consistently get the timing right. I have not, so take this with a grain of salt <3 -> generally only used for Guardians (as far as I've seen from fellow players) and kinda falls to the wayside in TOTK bc there’s no real incentive to use it. -> does not give Wild any actual chance to utilise his champion ability even tho I like writing that it does bc then it would be a useful thing to learn in totk, Nintendo! Shocker!

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> literally whatever he can get his goddamn hands on -> “You’ve heard of set bonuses, right?” -> Sheikah Slate

#linked universe #writing tools #lu sky #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #also there are a lot of differences between longswords and greatswords i just dont have the energy to make Time's section even longer #can we talk real quick about how expensive plate armour is??? Time you own a ranch??? HOW DID YOU AFFORD THIS????#ngl to y'all I straight up don't use the Sheikah Slate in combat so I almost completely forgot to include it here lmao #Telma taught Twi how to bare-knuckle box you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands #I will work out how to use the spinner in combat even if it kills me #I live in perpetual fear of the your stamina! it goes down! quote being identified lmao #linked universe meta #Lu meta #combat meta

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