aethercore-seeker

[aethercore-seeker]

"You did well out there, but you're not invincible, kitten... Here let me see it."

After-action patch-up prompts

The N109 zone was quieter now—eerily so. A far cry from the tension that had hung in the air mere hours ago when everything had gone sideways.

Smoke still curled faintly from the smoldering remains of a stall, the faint neon buzz of the broken signage above casting flickering shadows. The mission itself had gone right—or, well, mostly. They got what they came for. The dealer was real, the intel was solid, and the connection to EVER was more than just a rumor now.

But somewhere between cornering their source and dealing with his very well-armed bodyguards, Nym had earned herself a deep scrape across her upper arm. Courtesy of a collapsed balcony during the skirmish.

She was perched on a stack of empty crates now, jacket half-off, stubbornly trying to check the bleeding herself when—

"You did well out there, but you're not invincible, kitten... Here, let me see it."

Nym froze as Sylus stepped closer, his voice calm with an undertone she didn't recognise, as if he hadn’t just watched her nearly get impaled rusted pipe.

Her brows pinched together, cheeks warming slightly—not from pain, but from him.

"I'm fine," she started, not very convincingly as she flexed her arm only to flinch a little. "It’s not even deep, just... mildly impolite of the floor to bite me, that's all."

But he was already at her side, and she sighed in surrender, letting him inspect the damage.

"You know, for once everything mostly went according to plan. No one triggered a silent alarm, no stray dogs set off an sensor... I talked to the guy, Sylus. Talked. We got every bit of information we wanted..."

She glanced at him as he worked, mouth twitching upward despite herself.

"You always make that face when I get scraped up. Like I’ve broken your favorite vase." Her voice softened. “I’m not invincible, yeah... but I had you watching my back.”

Then, a playful nudge with her good shoulder. “Besides, if I went down, who else is gonna redecorate your base and make you buy more mango flavored things, hmm?”

[aethercore-seeker]

"I told you not to charge in without a plan. Now look at you."

After-action patch-up prompts

Smoke curled lazily through the half-collapsed structure, the lingering scent of scorched concrete and hot metal thick in the air. The mission had been supposed to be simple—clear the building, retrieve the stolen protocores, minimal resistance. But the second they'd stepped into that rusting warehouse, everything had gone to hell.

Tripwires. Drones. And a cloaked Wanderer that had nearly taken Nym's arm off.

Now she sat slouched against a stack of debris, one leg stretched out stiffly, the other bent at the knee. A deep gash carved across her thigh, bandaged hastily with gauze and a torn piece of her undershirt. Blood still soaked through. The stinging throb pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

She looked up when Maeve appeared, hands on hips, exasperation radiating from every inch of her, and then came the scolding:

"I told you not to charge in without a plan. Now look at you."

Nym visibly winced—not from the pain.

“...I had a plan,” she muttered, ears pinking, refusing to meet Maeve’s eyes as she tried to scoot up straighter, only to hiss and sink back with a curse. “It just… didn’t survive contact with reality.”

Maeve’s glare didn’t soften. Not one bit. Nym shrank a little under the weight of it, like a puppy who’d chewed a hole in the couch and now sat with ears down, tail tucked.

“…Okay, fine. Maybe I rushed in. A little.” Her voice went small. “It looked like the Wanderer was about to escape into the city. I thought I could cut him off before it got to the door...”

She paused, then peeked up at Maeve, cheeks puffed ever so slightly in protest.

“I didn’t think he had fangs. Since when do Wanderers have fangs?”

She sighed and leaned her head back against the broken wall behind her, closing her eyes for a beat.

[aethercore-seeker]

"You did well out there, but you're not invincible. Let me help." @xaviersknight

After-action patch-up prompts

Nym sat propped against the side of a dilapidated stone wall, the dusky light of the setting sun casting long shadows over the wreckage of what used to be a hideout. Blood seeped slowly through the torn fabric of her side, a jagged gash cutting from hip to lower ribs—thankfully not deep enough to be fatal, but angry and painful all the same. Her breath came in shallow, tight draws as the adrenaline finally wore off, leaving the sting of failure sharper than the wound itself.

She barely looked up when Delia approached, but her voice cut through the thick silence of the aftermath.

"You did well out there, but you're not invincible. Let me help."

Nym winced as she tried to sit up straighter, the pain lancing through her side forcing her to grunt and sag back against the wall. A hiss of breath escaped her teeth before she spoke, frustration coloring the edge of her words.

"...They got away, Lia." Her tone was low, bitter. “The smugglers. Armed to the teeth, and we were so close... so close... to cornering them. But I slowed us down.” Her jaw clenched, and she looked away, eyes dark. “If I’d moved just a second faster… if I hadn’t been sloppy—”

She stopped herself, lips thinning as she stared at the ground.

The heat of shame flickered on her cheeks. The ambush had come fast—smoke bombs, high ground, scatterfire. She’d taken the hit trying to shield a civilian who’d wandered too close. Right call, wrong timing.

Nym let out a shaky sigh and finally looked at Delia, softer now, tired.

“…Sorry. I know. I know I’m not invincible. I just... I hate losing ground like this. Hate not being enough.”

She gave a small nod, eyes flickering to the medical kit Delia was likely already pulling from her satchel.

“Alright. Patch me up.... I’ll sulk later.” Her lips tugged into a faint smile, worn around the edges. “But if you use that stingy antiseptic, I will make your tea too bitter next week.”

[aethercore-seeker]

Nym caught the water bottle mid-toss with a little grunt, unscrewing the cap as she leaned back against the bench with Kaia. Her brow lifted at the nickname—Mera—but she let it slide with a faint smirk. She took a long sip before wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

“Mm... missions have been all over the place, honestly,” she sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her. “With the whole Protoist situation flaring up again, plus the factions getting louder about the ethics behind Protocore use... it’s a lot. Tensions are high.”

Her gaze drifted upward before she added, “And then there’s the increase in Wanderer activity—feels like they’re coming out of the woodwork. Barely any room to breathe between missions.”

Still, there was a determined note in her voice, steady and grounded. “But I’m managing. Trying to keep my focus sharp and just... get things done.”

She turned her head slightly, eyeing Kaia with curiosity. “What about you? How’ve your missions been going? You holding up alright out there, or still trying to shoot your way through everything?” Her lips quirked with playful fondness.

[ 22. ] sender pins receiver’s wrists during a sparring match, grinning, "yield."

A Yellow Sunrise

A soft thud echoed through the training mat as Nym found herself flat on her back, her wrists pinned firmly to the ground by Kaia’s grip. She blinked up at her sparring partner, momentarily winded—not by the impact, but by the smug grin that greeted her from above.

“Yield,” Kaia purred, all too satisfied.

Nym groaned dramatically, her head thumping lightly back against the mat. “Ughhh, fine. I yield,” she huffed, squinting up at the ceiling like it had betrayed her too.

With a sheepish grin tugging at her lips, she shifted just enough to glance at Kaia, still catching her breath. “I really gotta work on my dodging. I saw that move coming and still managed to walk straight into it.”

She exhaled a laugh, a mix of begrudging respect and self-directed teasing. “One day, though. I’m gonna flip this whole thing on you. Mark my words.”

But for now? Yeah—she was just gonna lay there for a second longer, pinned, defeated, and only mildly salty about it.

[aethercore-seeker]

Maemae chaaaaan. Nani ga suki? 😙🎶🎶🎶 - @aethercore-seeker

Maeve is humming a tune, her eyes drifting from the stack of papers in her hand to the screen in front of her. Gathering the papers into one arm, she uses her free hand to swipe across the screen to read the next set of details when her attention easily shifts.

The melodic sound of Nymeria's voice has her eyes shifting to the source and she places her papers down, and giggles, she knows of this trend. 

"Hai~" She answers, letting the female continue the song. 

Maeve then turns to face the female and smiles, crossing her arms over her chest as she brings one hand up to tap against her chin. 

"Chizukeki~" She sing-songs and reaches out to pull the female closer, slightly swaying with her, "yori mo anata~" She completes it with a little boop to Nymeria's nose. 

[aethercore-seeker]

Nymeria never meant to become a regular. Really. It started with good intentions.

The first time she walked back into Jeremiah’s flower shop, it was with his clothes—washed, dried, folded meticulously, and the jacket fluffed like new. She’d even tucked a packet of a home made masala chai blend in the pocket with a note that said, You’re lucky I didn’t keep this. Smells like unfairly charming florists.

But then came the second time. A bouquet for a colleague’s promotion. Third time? A “casual stroll” past the store that mysteriously turned into her helping restock vases. Fourth? Helping him label herb planters while she grumbled about field reports.

And the texts? Gods, the texts.

She looked forward to them more than she should. A picture of an oddly shaped carrot he’d found at the market. A blurry snapshot of Hellebore sitting inside a flower box. The links to old songs from a long time before with lyrics that would make any heart squeeze in the best ways possible.

She tried not to read into things. Tried.

Until today. Until she saw the way he looked at her with something real in his eyes. She saw it in the way he took off his apron. The softest rustle of petals as that bright red rose was pressed into her palm—already dethorned, already thoughtful. Her fingers curled gently around the stem.

And suddenly every cell in her body forgot how words worked.

“Y-yeah! I mean—sure! That sounds… cool,” she said too quickly, too casually, a little breathless, like someone had turned up the heat and swapped her vocabulary with static. "Outside shop. Just two pals...well...pals? Is this...wait...I mean..." She noticed the amusement in his eyes.

She stared at the rose. Her voice dipped, a little smaller. “…is this a date?”

Gods. She immediately wanted to slam her face into the flower rack.

Pots and Petals

[Closed with @aethercore-seeker]

It started small. A truly grateful text, a link to a playlist, some banter here, some more messages there. Every now and then she'd pop into the shop. A shy brush of the hands, a lingering conversation that he didn't want to end.

It wasn't long before Jeremiah was restless. And hopelessly in over his head.

The flowers he gave her were bigger each time. And then with his heart beating in his ears and his palms sweaty, one day, he pulled out a single bright red rose and slipped it to her in the store.

"Nymeria... Hey." And he pulls his apron off and draws a little closer. "I've been thinking maybe it's time for us to get out of the store for a bit? Hm? Do you think maybe I could take you out sometime?"

[aethercore-seeker]

Nymeria giggled, her fingers brushing his as she took the cup from him. “Nym number one?” she repeated, shaking her head fondly before taking a sip. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second as the soft warmth coated her tongue. “...Okay. Fine. .”

What followed was a journey of taste and laughter, the two of them leaning in, pointing, sniffing, and sipping as they moved from one tiny cup to the next. With each new flavor came a new ridiculous name:

"Xavi-Brew Supreme."

"Nymerose Sereni-tea."

"Spice Invader."

"Leaf Me Alone."

Each name more chaotic than the last, and she jotted a few into her notes app with a giggle-snort as they went.

Then they reached it—a tea that started off subtle, floral even, with a whisper of something sweeter beneath. But halfway through her sip, her eyes widened slightly. The spice came in smooth but with a kick, chasing down the sweetness with a slow-burning boldness.

She pulled the cup away and pointed at it with a knowing smirk. “That one,” she declared, “definitely has your name written all over it.”

When he raised an eyebrow, she leaned her elbow on the table and grinned at him. “Seemingly innocent. Quiet. Kind of soft-spoken. But then—bam! Spice. Hits when you least expect it and suddenly you’re all warm and intense.” She sipped again for dramatic effect. “Yup. That’s my Xavier Chai. Creeping in like a sneaky little heatwave.”

She winked and leaned just a little closer. “I should’ve known you were trouble from sip number one.”

Nym leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she typed out a message.

💬 can tell your batteries are running low, mister.

💬 Lucky for you, I know just the way to recharge you.

💬 We’re going on a tea-tasting evening. Because tea is for the soul, and by the end of it, you’ll be back to 100%.

💬 So, what do you say? Up for a little soul-healing with me?

She hit send, already picturing his reaction—probably a small smile, maybe a dramatic sigh, who knows. - @aethercore-seeker

He read the messages with soft loving expression. How was it that he was so lucky to have her around now? How lucky to have her on his phone? How lucky that she was thinking of him at these moments?

He hit the call button and just maybe she could hear his smile through his voice.

"Hey, it's me. When do you want to go? Want to help me pick out an outfit? I'm not sure what to wear to that kind of thing."

[aethercore-seeker]

"Still under the blanket?" Xavier crashed his arms around her shoulders, toppling around her to curl onto the bed. He couldn't see her face yet, but he didn't have to. Deftly he squeezed his well-trained arms to maneuver her into his chest and let out a large sigh. "You're right, resting today is a good idea. But the sun is nice today. Maybe later, we can catch the sunset together. It's ok if you don't want to go out. We can sit on our balcony." There's another pause while he listens to her breathing, almost as soothing to him as her voice. Soft strands of her hair tickled at his chin, and for a moment he was fully content- just to hold her, just to be here when she needed him. "I'm lucky. The sun's rays also traveled a long time for thousands of lightyears just to get a glimpse of your face. I'm so happy to beat them to it."

She didn’t know how he did it. How he always knew. How on the days where the heaviness settled in and clung to her skin like a second layer, he always found the exact shape of comfort she needed—never too loud, never too pressing. Just there. Present, warm, steady.

When Xavier’s arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her into the familiar safety of his chest, Nym let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The tension in her shoulders eased as her body instinctively melted into his, letting herself be enveloped by his embrace. She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck, his skin carrying that faint scent she had long since begun to associate with home.

A small hum escaped her as she shifted slightly, squeezing his arm in reply.

“You big sap,” she murmured, lips brushing his skin with the words. “The sun isn’t light years away, you know. It’s a lot closer.” She paused, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “But… you’re right. You still got to see me first. But lucky me, I got your warmth before the sun.”

Her fingers gently traced idle shapes on the inside of his forearm, taking in the sound of his breathing, letting it ground her. His offer of the sunset was tempting. So was everything with him, really.

“It is a nice day to stay in bed,” she admitted, “but I don’t have the energy to be around other people today. Not really.” Another pause. “But… maybe we could go somewhere quiet? Just the two of us? A small picnic? Or maybe that walk. Just us and the sunset. That sounds nice.”

She tilted her face up toward him then, eyes warm and full of affection. “As long as it’s with you, it sounds perfect. And for the record, I like it when you beat the sun to see me first.”

[aethercore-seeker]

Nymeria blinked at the card in her hand, fighting a smirk. She stared up at him, his curls slightly damp, cheeks pink (from the cold? or that adorable stammer?), and for a beat, she couldn’t decide if he was the sweetest man she’d ever met or just a menace in a florist’s disguise.

“Well, thank you,” she said, voice soft, hugging the jacket a little tighter around her. A teasing glint sparked in her eyes. “And you better wear that fedora next time. I’m holding you to that.”

As he turned and walked away, her heart actually—physically—did a dumb little flutter. It was official. She was absolutely reeled in. Hook. Line. Flustered fool. All she could do was stare at the card, soggy edges and all, before letting herself into the complex.

The elevator dinged softly, the metal doors closing around her. She leaned against the wall, holding his card between her fingers like it was more important than any mission debrief.

[Message Sent: Jeremiah🌻]

💬 bold of you to give a perfectly nice jacket to a stranger who could absolutely be a thief.

💬 but since your tea blend was unfairly amazing, I guess I’ll return it.

💬 eventually.

💬 good night, Jeremiah. Thank you for rescuing my clumsy ass from the rain. ☔️

💬 tomorrow… I hope you have actual customers and not soggy train wrecks :p

She hit send, smiling to herself.

Nymeria stepped off the elevator, warmth still tucked around her shoulders, his scent lingering in the fabric, and her heartbeat a little too giddy for someone who’d just come home from being rained on, attacked by wanderers, and traumatized by a flowerpot incident.

But somehow?

Tonight had blossomed wonderfully .

closed starter for @jeremiahofphilo | NON MC Verse

The day was already on her nerves, and now the universe had the audacity to add this to the list.

Nymeria stood under the canopy of Philo, shaking out her damp jacket with a scowl. Rain dripped from her hood, soaking into the fabric of her sleeves. She muttered curses under her breath, watching sheets of water batter the sidewalk.

Just her luck. Her car? In the shop. The subway? Shut down due to some wanderers she just dealt with earlier.  Her patience? Hanging by a thread.

Then, as if summoned by her misfortune, her elbow caught something—something fragile, something expensive. The ceramic vase wobbled, teetered, and then, with an almost mocking finality, crashed onto the pavement in a spectacular display of shattered porcelain and soaked petals.

Nymeria exhaled sharply through her nose, pinching the bridge as if that would somehow reset reality.

“Perfect. Just perfect,” she muttered, already crouching to assess the damage. her fingers twitched with the automatic urge to fix the mess before anyone noticed. A simple touch and reform the ceramic, restructure the cracks, make it like nothing had ever happened. Easy.

Except. Her Evol didn’t work on organic matter. Which meant the waterlogged flowers were beyond saving.

“Damn it!” she grumbled under her breath, scooping up a few ruined stems like some halfhearted apology to the floral gods.

[aethercore-seeker]

[DISAPPROVES]

After-Action Patch-up starters

What was supposed to be a quiet, casual date , a break from responsibility, a rare window of peace, shattered beneath a roar of chaos. The air trembled as the Metaflux overflowed, erupting in neon veins across the plaza’s foundation. The ground cracked open, rifts hissing and pulsing with raw energy. Wanderers poured out like insects from a nest, their distorted forms dragging behind them

It happened fast. As it always did.

Caleb and Nym had barely finished laughing over dessert when the first Elysian Knave burst from the flux, followed by the hauntingly familiar Nautic Verge and a hulking Basalt. The pair fell into motion like clockwork, backs together, weapons drawn — a dance rehearsed through experience and instinct.

They fought like they were born to — Caleb’s strategy meeting Nym’s ferocity, every step in sync. But amidst it all, as Caleb engaged three Wanderers at once, a fourth — a Fission Form — slithered from behind, silent and lethal.

Nym didn’t think. She moved.

She threw herself between them, but not fast enough. The blast hit her square in the side, sending her skidding across the fractured stone.

Caleb’s retaliation was swift and final. The battlefield, now surging with the arrival of more hunters, blurred as he rushed to her side and dragged her away... away from the noise, the threat, the pain.

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

Nym sat on the edge of the sofa at her apartment, clothes torn, bruises darkening her skin, a nasty cut over her ribs. Her usual fire was dimmed, not from pain, but from the weight of his disapproval.

She sat hunched like a scolded puppy, hands wringing together in her lap, eyes flickering up to Caleb as he cleaned a gash along her arm. He hadn’t said much at first — only the tight line of his jaw and the rough way he yanked open the medkit betrayed his emotions.

But when he did speak — his words hit harder than the Wanderer’s attack.

"Putting yourself in danger like that is not acceptable."

Nym flinched at the tone. No, pipsqueak. There was disapproval clear in his eyes. Still, her voice shot up before she could stop it.

“You were in danger, Caleb!” she blurted, her voice cracking somewhere between anger and desperation. Her gaze locked on his, wide and glassy with frustration. “I saw it — it was going to hit you. I had to do something!”

She winced as he dabbed at a deeper wound, but refused to back down.

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Her voice softened, trembling. “Don’t lie and say you wouldn’t.”

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears she refused to let fall. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, not from pain — but from the idea, the horrible, gnawing idea that something could’ve happened to him and she didn’t act.

“I couldn’t stand there and watch. Not when I had a chance to stop it. I couldn’t let you—” she faltered, biting her lip.

A long pause.

Her eyes met his, pleading, raw. “Please, don’t make me feel like what I did was wrong. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. Not now, not ever.”

Her hands clenched in her lap, the ache from her injuries nothing compared to the fear she carried of him getting hurt.

[aethercore-seeker]

"You did well out there... you always do well." Miki speaks softly as she gently helps Nymeria down against a tree, much much further away from the site they'd attended to with Wanderers. She rummages through her things, and there's a small frown on her face when she speaks next. "But— But you're not invincible, Nymeria... Let me help, okay? Here—"

Miki pulls out a little first-aid kit, smiles sheepishly. "I'll um, clean the wound before we head back...? Th- thankfully it's not too serious... Or, um, we could call for a rescue unit? Maybe you need to rest a bit more..."

After-action patch-up

Nym let out a slow breath, easing down against the tree with a grateful, tired smile as Miki helped her settle. Her eyes flickered with a mix of exhaustion and determination, despite the ache coursing through her.

“I wish there was time for a rescue unit, Miki,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “But there’s still wanderers out there, and civilians who need help. We can’t just leave them behind.”

Her voice softened, a little raw but steady. “Can you patch me up as best as you can? And… maybe a shot of adrenaline? I need something to keep me going until this is all over.”

She gave Miki a small, sincere nod, eyes meeting hers with quiet gratitude. “Thank you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate you looking out for me. More than I can show.”

She squeezed Miki’s hand briefly, steadying herself as best she could. “Let’s finish this... together.”

[aethercore-seeker]

[ASSURES] The sender assures the receiver, claiming that despite appearances, the injuries will heal quickly.

After action patch-up

Nym winced as her eyes dropped to the gash along her thigh. It throbbed in time with her pulse, blood slicking the fabric of her torn gear, and every breath came sharp and shallow. She tried to keep it together — really, she did — but the tremble in her fingers betrayed her. That thing had gotten her.

Still, when she caught Kairos’s gaze, she forced a smirk, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Don’t get too close, Kai,” she rasped out, her voice thin and unsteady, “unless you want to accessorize with my blood. I hear red’s in this season.”

The laugh she meant to follow it up with died in her throat, replaced with another shaky breath as she looked away, jaw tightening. “It… it looks worse than it is,” she added, quieter this time. “Right? It'll heal, right? I’ve had worse… I think. Maybe.”

But the panic creeping at the edges of her bravado betrayed her. Her lips pulled into a weak smile as she leaned back against the wall for support, trying to keep weight off the leg.

She was trying to stay light. Trying to keep her hands from shaking. Trying not to look at the damage for too long. But deep down, she was just glad Kairos was here.

[aethercore-seeker]

After-Action Patch-Up starters

"Hold still, [name], this might sting a bit." "You're lucky it's just a few scratches. You need to be more careful!" "Don't be such a baby. It's just a flesh wound." "I can't believe you jumped into that fray without thinking! What were you trying to prove?" "Here, let me help. I've had my fair share of battle wounds." "Ouch! Warn me before you start cleaning those cuts." "You're a mess. How did you even get into this situation?" "I never thought I'd see you so vulnerable. It's strange." "Let's patch you up before anyone else sees you like this." "You really need to work on your combat skills. I can't keep playing nursemaid." "I've got the first aid kit. Sit down, and let me take care of those injuries." "You did well out there, but you're not invincible. Let me help." "I told you not to charge in without a plan. Now look at you." "It's nothing serious, just a few cuts and bruises. You'll be fine." "I can't believe you're complaining about a little pain. You should see what I've been through." "Hold on, I'll get the antiseptic. This might sting a bit." "You're surprisingly fragile for someone who fights so fiercely." "You really know how to ruin a perfectly good day, don't you?" "I never expected to see you in need of my care. Life is full of surprises." "I suppose I should thank you for saving me, even if it means playing nurse now."

[CLEANS] The sender takes a cotton swab and gently cleans the dirt and blood from the receiver's wounds. [BANDAGES] The sender carefully wraps a bandage around the receiver's forearm, securing it to protect the cuts. [SCOLDS] The sender scolds the receiver, shaking their head as they tend to the injuries. [REACTS] The receiver winces as the sender applies antiseptic to a particularly nasty cut on their cheek. [COMFORTS] The sender reassures the receiver, offering comfort while tending to the injuries. [DISINFECTS] The sender pours antiseptic on a wound, causing the receiver to inhale sharply at the stinging sensation. [INSPECTS] The sender inspects the wounds, noting any deeper cuts that might need more attention. [LECTURES] The sender lectures the receiver, advising them to think before acting to avoid future injuries. [SMILES] Despite scolding, the sender smiles reassuringly, trying to ease the tension in the room. [COMPLAINS] The receiver complains about the pain, prompting the sender to roll their eyes and continue their work. [WORRIES] The sender expresses worry, sharing their concern for the receiver's well-being. [TREATS] The sender skillfully treats each injury, showcasing their competence in basic first aid. [ADMONISHES] The sender admonishes the receiver, emphasizing the potential severity of the situation. [ASSESSES] The sender assesses the overall damage, silently noting the toll the fight took on the receiver. [DISAPPROVES] The sender expresses disapproval, stating that putting oneself in danger is not acceptable. [ASSURES] The sender assures the receiver, claiming that despite appearances, the injuries will heal quickly. [HESITATES] The receiver hesitates as the sender reaches for a needle and thread to stitch up a deeper cut. [SYMPATHIZES] The sender sympathizes with the receiver, acknowledging the pain while praising their efforts. [SCANS] The sender scans the receiver's body for any hidden injuries, ensuring nothing was overlooked. [GRATEFUL] The receiver expresses gratitude to the sender for taking care of them amid the discomfort.

[aethercore-seeker]

🙏 - peeking from behind Nym, she poked one side of her shoulder, then moved to circle around the opposite shoulder, then when seeing Nym turn her head as she stood in front of her, Maeve's fingers wiggle as they grab and squish her cheeks lovingly. "Gotcha~"

squeeze her

Nym flinched when she felt the poke to her shoulder, turning instinctively—only to find nothing. Her brows furrowed, confusion flitting across her face. “Huh?” she muttered suspiciously, already catching the scent of mischief in the air.

Then—

“Gotcha~”

Squish.

Her cheeks were suddenly captured, fingers pinching them with far too much affection and absolutely no mercy. Nym’s blue eyes widened in betrayal, her words reduced to an indignant, muffled, “Mmhmf?!” as Maeve beamed up at her like a cat toying with a very betrayed mouse.

“Not you too, Maeve?!” she groaned, half laughing, half mock-complaining. “I swear, I’m starting to feel like a walking squeeze toy around here.”

She tried to wiggle away, but Maeve’s grip was too firm and too affectionate. Nym’s cheeks puffed out dramatically, her voice sliding into playful defeat.

“I’m keeping a list,” Nym huffed dramatically. “And guess what? You just joined Minnie and Lis in the Cheek Squish Offenders Club™. There will be vengeance.”

[aethercore-seeker]

Nymeria pulled the jacket around her tighter, the lining instantly soothing against the lingering chill.

She glanced down at it, then up at him, raising a brow with a faint huff of a laugh.

“At this point,” she mumbled, mostly to herself, “you’re just donating your whole closet to me, aren’t you?”

Still, she wore it. Of course she wore it. Warm, soft, it even smelled like him... probably.

Great. Now she was definitely going to associate that smell with kindness and rescue and the maddening tilt of his smile.

She turned to Hellebore, who was yowling with all the dramatic flair of a toddler denied a second dessert.

"You’ll probably flood the place with rainwater before you burn it down, won’t you, Hellebore?" she said with a smirk, leaning down just a little to meet the cat’s sulky gaze. “Be nice. Your dad's just out doing charity work, letting lost girls invade his home.”

Then came the umbrella. A large one, thankfully—but not that large. Her gaze flicked to him, then up at the canopy, then back to him again. He was already holding it out like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like her heart wasn’t about to throw itself off a cliff at the prospect of standing that close to someone who looked like he'd stepped out of a wistful daydream.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye as they walked. So close. So calm. So unfairly good at being a warm, nice person who offers umbrellas and jackets like it’s nothing. Nymeria exhaled softly, mist in the chill night air, and thought—not for the first time this evening—

What in the world just happened to me tonight?

She glanced at their shoulders—barely an inch between them—and then straight ahead, her eyes just a bit too focused on the path forward. Her thoughts, however, were in no way calm or normal.

“I’m good,” she said quickly when he asked, giving him a smile that she hoped didn’t look as sheepish as it felt. “Yep. Got everything. Except my dignity—probably left that on the floor next to your music box thing.”

closed starter for @jeremiahofphilo | NON MC Verse

The day was already on her nerves, and now the universe had the audacity to add this to the list.

Nymeria stood under the canopy of Philo, shaking out her damp jacket with a scowl. Rain dripped from her hood, soaking into the fabric of her sleeves. She muttered curses under her breath, watching sheets of water batter the sidewalk.

Just her luck. Her car? In the shop. The subway? Shut down due to some wanderers she just dealt with earlier.  Her patience? Hanging by a thread.

Then, as if summoned by her misfortune, her elbow caught something—something fragile, something expensive. The ceramic vase wobbled, teetered, and then, with an almost mocking finality, crashed onto the pavement in a spectacular display of shattered porcelain and soaked petals.

Nymeria exhaled sharply through her nose, pinching the bridge as if that would somehow reset reality.

“Perfect. Just perfect,” she muttered, already crouching to assess the damage. her fingers twitched with the automatic urge to fix the mess before anyone noticed. A simple touch and reform the ceramic, restructure the cracks, make it like nothing had ever happened. Easy.

Except. Her Evol didn’t work on organic matter. Which meant the waterlogged flowers were beyond saving.

“Damn it!” she grumbled under her breath, scooping up a few ruined stems like some halfhearted apology to the floral gods.

[aethercore-seeker]

🙏 - He pinches her cheeks. Then her nose. "Oh look over there! Isn't that the game you wanted?" Pinches her butt.

squeeze her

Nym blinked the moment she felt Caleb pinch her cheek — the audacity. Her hand shot up, ready to retaliate, but before she could even think, his fingers had already gone for her nose.

“Hey!” she squeaked, voice slightly nasal from the scrunch, eyes narrowed in mock betrayal as she squinted at him, clearly unamused but fighting a smile.

And then— He pinched her butt.

Her eyes flew wide open. "Oh-... oh hell no," she muttered, blush immediately blooming across her cheeks as her head snapped in his direction.

"You did not just—!"

Before he could make a break for it, she reared her hand back and smacked his butt in return, firm and absolutely unapologetic.

“There. Equal rights, equal fights, Colonel,” she said with a sassy huff, crossing her arms but the twitch at the corners of her lips gave her away.

The blush was still there, though. Bright. Bold. Busted.

“…Don’t think I didn’t see that little smirk.” she added, side-eyeing him.

[aethercore-seeker]

Minnie's gonna squeeze Nymeria's cheeks ( gently ) "Aha! Soo you are here!"

squeeze her

Nym barely had a second to react before a familiar set of fingers squished her cheeks with all the betrayal of a Shakespearian tragedy. Her eyes widened, lips puckering involuntarily as Minnie grinned like the cat that got the cream.

“Et tu, Minnie?” she garbled dramatically, voice muffled by the cheek squish. “I trusted you.”

She flailed a little for effect—half-heartedly because let’s face it, the affection was kind of cute—but the betrayal? Oh, it was real. “I thought we were allies! Sisters in chaos! And you—” she sniffed, narrowing her eyes as best she could with her cheeks still under attack, “—have joined the cheek-squishers. Is nothing sacred anymore?”

Still, despite the theatrics, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She poked at Minnie’s side in retaliation, the pout failing to mask the soft affection behind her mock-accusation. “You’re lucky you’re cute. But this means war.”