#They'd hear him sing in the distance

[cryptids-of-spielzeit]

(Heyo! Still workin' on part 3 of "Sundae", but I just wanted to get this off of my mind. I'm listenin' to music as I write, right? And then one song in my liked playlist starts, Coyotes by Don Edwards. That song always gets me teary eyed, but in a comforting way, y'know? And it hit me. That's how I want to portray Dogday. That song. Or, at least how it makes me feel. That comforting sadness. In universe, I feel like he'd hear it on a camper's radio, and it'd just stick with him. He'd sing it to the Sundae crew at night, as part of their comfort routines. IDK, I just think it fits him. - JY)

[loaksky]

— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮

the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.

the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)

the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake. 

the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!

the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs

masterlist

SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice. 

It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick. 

Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented. 

Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you. 

Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire. 

He hates it. He hates you. 

He thinks. 

It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth. 

But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him. 

It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you. 

Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone. 

Like now, you linger. 

It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them. 

Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over. 

Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin. 

“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes. 

Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger. 

“We going or what?” he finally says. 

You perk up. 

“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.

Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly. 

“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents. 

You roll your lips and shift on your feet. 

“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful. 

Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours. 

“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.” 

Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible. 

You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes. 

“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up." 

You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off. 

“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh. 

“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles. 

“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”

Lo'ak sneers. 

“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.

“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”

Lo'ak's spine stiffens.

“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes hard. 

There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you. 

“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam. 

He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand. 

“Hi,” he says flatly. 

“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet. 

His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare. 

“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face. 

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat. 

A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him. 

His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows. 

“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”

You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure. 

“My birthday's coming up,” you start. 

“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs. 

It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest. 

“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you. 

“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone. 

You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens. 

“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”

Friend. 

He scowls at the term.

“We're not friends,” he bites back. 

If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face. 

“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly. 

“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp. 

He leaves you in the clearing on your own.

You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice. 

“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head. 

His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply. 

“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”

“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly. 

“But, Dad!”

“Lo'ak.”

Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off. 

“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle. 

The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target. 

Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot. 

You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile. 

“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.” 

Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target. 

His heart sinks. 

“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.

He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two. 

He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn. 

“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs. 

“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest. 

You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path. 

He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora. 

“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel. 

His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks. 

“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!” 

His chest rises and falls with a scoff. 

“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood. 

Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage. 

“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly. 

“You are my friend,” you protest quietly. 

Lo’ak rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you. 

“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?” 

Friends. 

That stupid fucking word again.

Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path. 

Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.

“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle. 

As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother. 

“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.” 

“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised. 

Lo’ak’s face scrunches.

“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”

“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.” 

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns. 

“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”

A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates. 

“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.” 

Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat. 

“No thanks,” he says flatly.

You try to coax him. 

“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up. 

You offer up the plate again. 

“Lo’ak–“ 

“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed. 

He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground. 

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds. 

“Shit, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.” 

“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering. 

“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.” 

Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–

“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.” 

“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters. 

“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.” 

“Dad!” 

“Go, Lo’ak.” 

Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose. 

“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air. 

He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology. 

When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye. 

He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction. 

“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief. 

You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. 

A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest. 

Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about. 

When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile. 

“I wanted to–”

“I came to–”

Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy. 

“You first,” you offer. 

Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing. 

“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm. 

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.” 

You shake your head quickly. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him. 

He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you. 

You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile. 

You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn. 

Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation. 

He shrugs. 

“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.” 

The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face. 

“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?” 

No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly. 

It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night. 

“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly. 

“I dunno, green?” he offers. 

“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly. 

Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.” 

He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal. 

“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages. 

Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up. 

“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.

You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet. 

“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.” 

Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion. 

“What?” he asks. 

You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him. 

“Nothing.” 

Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session. 

And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you. 

He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off. 

And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade. 

Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended. 

“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips. 

Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars. 

“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.” 

“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night. 

And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has. 

But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries. 

The words are leaving him before he can stop them. 

“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.” 

The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.

“I’m not perfect,” you assure him. 

“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.” 

You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile. 

“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.” 

Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.

You continue. 

“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.” 

Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments. 

“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.” 

“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.” 

“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

You nod, smiling at him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”

Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.

Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night. 

After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring. 

“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village. 

“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed. 

Kiri shrugs. 

“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.” 

You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully. 

“Yeah?” you wonder

So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower. 

It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist. 

Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat. 

He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.

There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again. 

But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw. 

“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands. 

You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff. 

“Hey,” he replies hesitantly. 

“Where you going?” you ask curiously.

His throat bobs as he gestures behind him. 

“Hunting,” is all he says.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.

He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control. 

Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard. 

“No,” he says.

And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly. 

“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?” 

“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.” 

“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–” 

“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too. 

You try again anyways. 

“It’ll be good practice and–”

“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.” 

Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch. 

“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”

The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face. 

Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later. 

You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.

Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore. 

You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully. 

“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates. 

“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone. 

“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles. 

“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.” 

You frown. 

Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud. 

“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?” 

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent. 

“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs. 

Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.

His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further. 

“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him. 

He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut. 

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”

“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level. 

“But you’re–”

“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.

Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle. 

You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree. 

You follow after him. 

“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects. 

He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.” 

You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off. 

He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels. 

“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”

“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!” 

You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you. 

“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry. 

“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!” 

You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles. 

“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper. 

“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!” 

The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you. 

“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat. 

You dropped your journal. 

Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands. 

It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet. 

He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been. 

“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal. 

It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open. 

He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch. 

“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued. 

“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers. 

“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?” 

Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.

“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides. 

A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers. 

“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. 

Spider winces behind him. 

“You serious?” 

Lo’ak sighs. 

“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…” 

“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.” 

Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him. 

“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.” 

“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.” 

Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.

“Did you at least apologize?” 

Lo’ak squirms.

“Dude!” 

“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation. 

“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“ 

“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs. 

“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.” 

“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps. 

“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?” 

He blinks at the human. 

“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.” 

“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.

“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”

“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply. 

“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.” 

Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook. 

“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly. 

Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off. 

It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.

At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths. 

It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind. 

I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis. 

As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him. 

He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you. 

It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late. 

After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.

As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver. 

A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling. 

Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar. 

“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.

It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face. 

When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them. 

“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves. 

A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it. 

“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head. 

A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him. 

As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze. 

“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.” 

Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read. 

“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand. 

“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.” 

His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him. 

His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it. 

He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping. 

It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you. 

You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—

Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain. 

It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished. 

Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind. 

It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap. 

It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.

As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh. 

Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath. 

Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know. 

he is like the sun,

shines so bright,

but burns the closer you get. 

Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting. 

he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him. 

His chest heaves as the words blur. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward. 

He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye. 

Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time. 

likes green and blue. 

likes yovo fruits. 

The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest. 

When he turns the page, his breath hitches. 

In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes. 

Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another. 

The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star. 

He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like. 

Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease. 

His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones. 

Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river. 

A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide. 

Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you. 

You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself. 

He stands from the hammock and runs. 

You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.

Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.

As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins. 

You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape. 

“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.” 

You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him. 

You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. 

Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm. 

“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay. 

“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.” 

The tears well on their own. 

We’re not friends. We never were and we never will. 

The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches. 

“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”

“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.” 

He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below. 

“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.” 

Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky. 

“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.” 

“I do, _________, I do!” he argues. 

He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you. 

You shake your head again.

“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.” 

“Stop–”

“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”

“No, _________. Wait!” 

You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness. 

Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better. 

She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence. 

“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat. 

Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task. 

It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest. 

“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his. 

Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze. 

“I hurt someone,” he says quietly. 

Neytiri stiffens.

“What?” 

“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. 

Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression. 

“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?” 

You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly. 

“I really messed things up, Mom,” Lo’ak says quietly. “I don’t…” 

Neytiri’s hand comes to Lo’ak chest. 

“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.” 

Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.

His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines. 

“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines. 

“Why should I help you with your mess?” 

You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment. 

He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd. 

Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show. 

Be brave. 

He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space. 

You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips. 

“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him. 

You remain jaded.

“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background. “________,” Lo’ak tries again. 

You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side. 

“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder. 

The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday. 

She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you. 

He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact. 

He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet. 

He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely. 

It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right. 

Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt. 

They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart. 

“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.” 

Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve. 

Be brave. Sometimes that is enough. 

Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids. 

“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.” 

The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push. 

“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees. 

“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage. 

“I’ll only be a second!” 

“Wait, Kiri!” 

Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path. 

“Good luck, egghead!”

Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself. 

You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams. 

“Oh, you were–”

You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls. 

“Lo’ak…” 

“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes. 

You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet. 

“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him. 

He scratches the back of his head. 

“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer. 

“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads. 

You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly. 

You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat. 

The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.

His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream. 

“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.” 

“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.” 

He swallows.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.” 

You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words. 

“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.” 

When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him. 

He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes. 

“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.” 

You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek. 

“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.” 

You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you. 

“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?” 

He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze. 

“Did you…” 

“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”

“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?” 

“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening. 

“Lo’ak, don’t–”

“How long?” he presses desperately. 

Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push. 

“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.” 

Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines. 

“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”

You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.

“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.” 

He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out. 

“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief. 

“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.” 

He lets out a shaky breath. 

“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.” 

Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head. 

“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him. 

“Please.” 

His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours. 

“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.” 

Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope. 

“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers. 

You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss. 

He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you. 

To being loved by you. 

BONUS

“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…” 

Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.” 

Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by. 

His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift. 

“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.” 

You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you. 

A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself. 

“Lo’ak, wow…” 

“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.” 

an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx

. 

.

.

neng © 2023

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn

[thesweetnessofspring]

🎃 Trick or Treat! 👻

Ok so I found this picture on Pinterest:

Which made me think of an AU where somehow Katniss and Peeta end up touring an old English estate, where they both worked during a past life as servants. In the past, Peeta was the oldest son's valet and in a higher position than Katniss, who started work as a scullery maid. Peeta is of course taken with her the moment he hears her singing while she works, but Katniss is resistant because she doesn't want to get married because she doesn't want to have children who will have to labor under cruel conditions like she does. Over the years, though, she can't quite shake off Peeta, who she can slowly lets in, taken by his steady kindness to her and all of the other servants. Eventually, he proposes marriage to her and she rages at him, but says yes because despite her guard, she fell in love with him. Before their wedding day, though, Peeta is taken by a fever and dies. Katniss falls into grief and never loves any other man again.

In the present, though, these two strangers take a tour and find their way together, drawn together in a way neither had felt before. He compliments her dress and she says, "Of course you'd say that. It's your favorite color." But how does she know orange is his favorite color if they'd only just met? Intrigued, he hangs back in the group and she follows his lead, until he takes her hand and travels away from the tour to get some time alone with her.

They try and try to figure out how they know each other. Where did she grow up? What college did he go to? Had she ever taken a cruise as a child? Did he go to this particular summer camp? They can't place it.

"It must have been a past life," Peeta finally says. "I think we were madly in love back then, so you can kiss me anytime you feel like it."

Katniss laughs and rolls her eyes, but before they rejoin the group, she turns to him and kisses him and he kisses her back so that she feels warm and happy inside.

A past life is such a foolish idea, but as a meet-cute turns into a first date, turns into a long-distance relationship and then a not at all distant relationship, Katniss knows that no matter what, they would have happened anyway.

[babyleostuff]

Pls pls make an ot13 fic wherein the reader is an actress and an idol at the same time and she get paired with svt and they have a kissing scene or an intimate one. without anyone knowing, theyre daiting and the amount of teasing the members eill receive??? Just like juns recent drama

members teasing each other because of an intimate scene in a drama | ot13

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGCHEOL

He’d try to pull the leader card, but it would NOT work, whatsoever. The teasing he’d get from Mingyu would be ASTRONOMICAL (he’d waited his entire life for that). It would also be Chan’s villain origin story, because that would be the perfect opportunity to take revenge for all those years the teasing (you can practically hear him laughing maniacally in the distance).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEONGHAN

I feel like it could go two ways. He’d either be like: “you guys stoooop” (shy bean) or “I know, that kiss was hot, right?” (wink wink). Even though they would definitely tease him, he wouldn’t care that much. At least he gets all the edits and thirst traps now.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JOSHUA

They would give him a bottle of water with a label “holy water” and run off. But in the end, despite all the teasing, Joshua would not be bothered. He has better things to do (read: sing “Sunday morning” while crying over his cringy kissing scenes).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JUN

Well, looking at what is going on right now, we can tell that he gets some amount of teasing, but a lot of praise too. I think generally with Jun, they are proud of him for pursuing acting and showing his talent in something other than singing and dancing. Still, I feel like he kind of hibernated for the first 48h after the release, to avoid the clowning of the members (but he has seen the memes).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOSHI

Villain origin story, part two: Mingyu edition. It would be his time to take revenge for all the mafia games AND HE WOULD NOT HOLD BACK. That man would follow Soonyoung everywhere and just clown him MASSIVELY. Soonyoung would have to lock himself in his house to avoid Mingyu and even then, the younger would spam him with messages.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WOOZI

At first they wouldn’t dare to tease him. They would be afraid that he’d close off after coming out of his comfort zone and starting in a drama. Jihoon’d be actually ready for the teasing, so when it never came, he’d be like ???. That’s when they’d release all their inner jokes about the drama and his performance (especially the steamy scenes). He would laugh with them and not mind the teasing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ WONWOO

He’d take it all like a champion. Nothing can break Jeon Wonwoo. Except for when he’d be alone. Then he’d turn into a babygirl and be like:🥺🫶, guys can you stop, please? But he would never tell that to their faces. Because he’s Jeon Wonwoo. 💪🏼.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DK

They would not tease him. Period. Instead of teasing it would be all love and praise. They would practically be shitting hearts and rainbows, because of how proud they are of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGYU

Thank god they aren’t living together anymore, because he’d HAVE to move out then. The group chat would be on fire after the first episode and the next day at work would be hell on earth for him. Some of the boys would take their time to learn some of the lines that they found particularly cringy and clown him with them. They'd also make kissy noises at him. He’d start to think about debuting as a solo artist.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ MINGHAO

There would be no point in teasing Minghao. Would not care. Would not find the teasing amusing. Would probably turn the whole situation around and make fun of the boys instead. It’s all for the art baby.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SEUNGKWAN

The moment any of the members would even open their mouth to breath, he’d yell and walk out of the room. After a second though, he’d reappear and start explaining how it is all in the name of art and what it means to be a real actor (it'd turn out that Jeonghan only wanted to ask what they wanted for dinner).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ VERNON

I feel like the members wouldn’t actually tease him THAT much. They’d be proud of him for doing something out of his comfort zone and trying something new. Yeah, surely there would be some teasing, but it’d more like love and praise 🥰 >>>>> teasing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ DINO

He. Does. Not. Care. Come on, after that many years of being teased and “bullied”, he would not give a single fuck. They’d try to make fun of him, but quickly give up, as they'd realise it didn’t faze their youngest, whatsoever. Chan would enjoy all the tiktoks and memes though.

[palskippah]

Hi!

Some Mareach thoughts regarding their pining for the other because that's my favorite headcanon ever for them, especially if it's painfully obvious that they like the other.

It's all rambling sjdksj Sorry if it's confusing to read! It's just all my thoughts on the matter, and they're loosely based on the drawings I did jsjds

Also, this all may not be very coherent? In the sense of time and stuff, I wrote it on the spot, honestly sjsj

Now, Peach has been in love with Mario for a long time. Before he saved her for the first time, and maybe even before he became the helpful hero of the Mushroom Kingdom.

He was nice to her, respectful and liked to have fun- never mind that she was a princess. With her subjects Peach couldn't exactly run and jump and just play any time outside of the official games (unless it was little children, they loved it, but once they got bigger, they realized she was The Princess, and must be treated with excessive respect and distance, apparently), but with Mario she could get her nice, pink dress dirty with mud or with stains of green grass, get leaves in her hair, or overall be a mess, regardless of the situation. He'd just laugh with his equally dirty overalls, instead of fretting over her nice clothes being ruined.

They'd have simple competitions, who gets faster to that one tree about ten meters away? They'd push and shove to get there quicker, both using their abilities for it. Peach would levitate a rock for it to get in Mario's way, and Mario would jump very high to go past it easily. And whoever won earned a kiss from the loser (alright, Peach shamelessly set that rule, whatever for her to place her lips on Mario's round nose or to get his mustache to tickle her cheek when his lips placed a loud kiss on it).

It was fun and simple, and Peach felt truly relaxed and appreciated when she was with Mario, in a way that with her cousin Daisy or her father Toadsworth she just didn't. Her heart would beat faster, and she'd look forward to seeing Mario's blue eyes and his silly nose and his handsome mustache. And to hear his accented sweet voice, or to see him communicate with gestures, where Peach would do her absolute best to interpret it the best she could.

To simply be by Mario's side could made Peach's whole day.

After she was rescued though, she saw him in a new light- a heroic (and very handsome-) light. He fought against a koopa many times his size and simply flung him out by the tail! Then Mario effortlessly lifted her in his arms and ran her to safety. Mario kind of literally swept her off her feet, and Peach felt that she fell a little more in love with him, in a way that she knew she never would be able to forget or be able to get over it.

But something Peach is very glad of, it's that there's no need to forget or get over it, because Mario likes her too. A lot it seems. The first time he saved her, and once they were back at the castle, Mario seemed to reach for his hat to do a playful bow as he usually did for the princess, but Peach was excited and loved him so much and felt so cared for, that she impulsively leaned in and kissed him on the nose, halting Mario's movements. She muttered in a sweet, loving voice: "Thank you, Mario."

And by the stars, the way Mario's cheeks went pink and his eyes bright, as if something wonderful just happened to him, made Peach's heart sing in happiness. Could this mean that he could love her too?

So, Peach started to be clear in her intentions. She'd be sweeter, she'd get him gifts, and treat him like a king that deserved everything in the world. Because to her, Mario did deserve everything and more. Peach invited him exclusively to eat cake with her, they woudl go to picnics on their own ,to enjoy each other's company. And Peach would very tentatively reach his hand when she could or kiss his face if the situation allowed it, even staright up hugging him, with no excuse or reason to (simply because she wanted!)

To any outsider, it was clear the princess was courting Mario, but to Mario, it was just his good friend being more friendly, which was great! He was very glad to be a closer friend to Peach. So, Mario started returning the efforts, he'd give her silly things he found that reminded him of her or make the time to spend his afternoons with her. He'd be more affectionate in the way Peach was, saying outright what he liked of her or cheering for her in enthusiasm at their games (Mario saying, "I love you, I love you so much!" while clapping).

But it didn't go past that.

Peach wasn't sure if Mario was being oblivious or she wasn't being clear enough- But he'd blush and do silly dances when she said something particularly sweet to him, and his eyes would soften when looking up at her. So, Peach was very confused. Why, even when she said, "I love you, Mario", he answered with an enthusiastically, "I love you too, principessa!" and... that was it. As if Mario just didn't notice that Peach was trying to go somewhere with all their courting (Thinking about the "we look like a couple :3" "A couple of besties! :D").

I'm thinking that ever since they became friends, Mario has had at least a little crush on Peach, and how could he not? She's so beautiful, and nice, and funny. Mario doesn't think she'd be interested in him in a romantic sense though, because he knows very well she cares about him! But romantically? Princess Peach could have anyone she wanted, and there must be other royals more worthy of her love. So, why choose Mario? What could he possibly give her that another guy or woman in a much higher position couldn't?

Mario is very sure of himself in some ambits, and then in others not so much. When time goes on, he truly believes he's worthy of being Peach's hero, because he's strong, agile, he can jump very high, he's smart too! If Peach is in trouble, he will find a solution or a way to rescue her and make sure she's okay. He trusts his physical abilities very much, that's why he trains and does his best to be as strong as he can! What else can Mario give Peach if he can't be useful for her safety-

But he doesn't think he's good enough to be anything else besides that. Because Mario isn't worthy to hold her hand simply because he wants to, unless he's pulling her and running away from danger. And Mario couldn't just hold Peach in his arms in the way a bride is held by the groom, because he only does that if he needs to get Peach away from a castle or danger, again. Or to kiss her cheek just because he wanted to show her his fondness, without having to purposely lose their races.

Mario just wasn't good enough for that, and it always made him realize that no matter what he did, he'd never feel worthy, because he'll always just be Mario, Mushroom Kingdom's and Peach's hero. And Mario was okay with that, really. And what difference does it make, anyway, if Peach doesn't feel the same way. She was so sweet and considerate, always looking out for people she cared about. Mario was just very glad that he was in that group of people that Peach deeply cared for. And he knew he was there, because she did so many nice things for him! Bake him a cake, even when he didn't help her in any significant way prior to it, or hug him out of nowhere or look at him sweetly- it was as if they were dating! And it made Mario immensely happy, because if he tried hard enough, it was as if Peach only had eyes for him, and only did nice, sweet things for him. And looked at him with her beautiful sky-blue eyes, full of love for Mario, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

When he saved her for the first and she kissed him and looked at him as if he was something precious and loving, he felt that maybe Peach could see him as a romantic partner, worthy of very nice things and very nice people such as Peach. But then she said, "You are my hero!" and that hope shattered, because right- hero, Mario was a hero. He was good in helping and saving the day and that's why people liked him! That's why Peach appreciated him too. So, Mario smiled brightly anyways and jumped in joy, because he's happy to be Peach's hero!

In the privacy of his own room, Mario would allow himself to feel sad about the matter, about feeling too little like a person and too much like a hero sometimes. Hoping it could be the other way, or maybe both ways. Anything so Peach could think of Mario and be pleased with the person he was, rather in all the things he could do. (Does that even make sense? it's me, Kym, asking ASJKJS)

And you can bet that Luigi was witnessing all of this, especially Peach's fruitless courting, and Mario's lovesick pining. He'd see the princess acting in the same way a loving partner would, and Mario relishing in the attention, very clearly in love. And then Mario would say something that sounded way to close to friend-zoning, and Peach would look briefly caught off-ward, most likely confused.

And Luigi couldn't blame her, when Mario himself didn't think she was courting him! The idiot (both affectionate and derogatory) didn't have enough confidence to think a princess could like (and love) him. Alright, well, if Luigi had a royal person hopelessly in love with him, he wouldn't believe it either- because he's just little ol' Luigi! Nothing special. But Mario? He was the specialest guy around! But he was so insecure too and wouldn't just see that Peach was almost desperately trying to get him to see that she loved him and wanted to be much more than just friends.

For God's sake, she said 'I love you' to Mario, directly to his face, and not even that seemed to change his thoughts of not being good enough or her not wanting anything besides friendship. Worst part, Luigi had to see his bro pining in their house, sighing, thinking of the princess, and out loud wondering what she was doing. He'd always be thinking of her, Peach this and Peach that- And it's not that it bothered Luigi or angered him, it's just that it was frustrating! The woman was right there! Peach could be with a huge MARIO, WANNA BE MY BOYFRIEND? <3 sign right outside their house and Mario would ask Luigi for which brother it was.

It frustrated him and made him feel sorry for his bro. Mario had something so good right in front of him, and due to his insecurity, he couldn't allow himself to see it.

After months and months of implying a relationship and Mario just, not noticing, Peach started to realize that... maybe Mario just didn't feel the same way. And maybe he just didn't know how to let her know it. Maybe Mario was being nice and returning her efforts just to not hurt her feelings, when all he wanted was to just remain friends. It made Peach feel so sad and so ashamed, had she just been forcing her feelings on Mario? A worse thought crossed her mind, has she been making him uncomfortable with her actions? And all these months...., Peach wouldn't forgive herself if that was the case. Maybe all those blushes and soft eyes and shy smiles were just the things she wanted to see.

Stars, she had to fix it. So, Peach stopped inviting Mario on his own to her castle and baking a cake with his favourite flavors in mind, and started inviting both brothers and also friends. She stopped leaning to hug him or kiss him, and when they'd win or lose races, Peach changed the rule into a high-five, meeting Mario's kissy lips with her palm the first time it happened. She truly hoped her efforts of a romantic relationship could just be forgotten, and not affect their friendship.

Mario was devastated with the change in Peach's behavior. She no longer invited him to the castle, and he didn't receive any more letters with 'Come to the castle, I've baked you a cake! <3', and the worst part- when he ran especially slow to get to kiss Peach in the cheek, and he was right about to do it, Peach's hand received him instead of her face. She smiled cheerfully and said, "Let's do high-fives from now on, yes?'

It was as if Mario's heart shattered- it was the last piece in the puzzle that indicated that he was no longer as loved as he used to be by the princess. Mario was treated like, like Luigi was! Which, honestly, was still very good, but! Mario used to be special! Peach used to treat him like he was someone noteworthy and worthy of the nicest gifts and her nicest smiles, and now it was no longer... If there was a little sliver of hope in Mario that they could be something, it was entirely gone. Now he couldn't even pretend that she loved him romantically, and it made him so, so sad.

Was it something he did? Mario should just ask, shouldn't he? God, but he just couldn't, he was a coward. What if Peach told him she no longer liked him at all, and was trying to slowly distance herself, and she actually hated Mario now?! Obviously, Mario was being dramatic, but he just wanted to explain why Peach no longer treated him in a special way...

That's all I've got 🧍

[kokusfluffyhair]

He takes YOUR clothes (slight NSFW/18+!)

Kokushibou is out for some revenge after you took his clothes😈

You went in the bath after a long day. You just wanted to relax and take time to yourself. Kokushibou had gone out on a mission a couple of days ago, and he probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow. You had been catching up on self-care and doing other things that you wanted to do without possibly being interrupted by your demon lover.

You don't really mind when he interrupts you, but still, he gets in the way sometimes.

After spending a lengthy time in the bath, you get out and dry yourself off. You then go out into the bedroom to put on the clothes you had set aside for yourself.

Except, they weren't there.

You were very confused. You rewind your memory and think through what you had done before you got in the bath and you swore you set out some clothes for after the bath. But, no problem, maybe you forgot after all. You could just go into the wardrobe and get what you wanted.

Except, there was not a single item of your clothing in your side of the wardrobe. The other side was filled as usual, but all with Kokushibou's clothes. You could try to wear them, but they'd be too big on you and would be basically falling off. But trying to wear Kokushibou's clothes wasn't what was on your mind. How the hell did all of your clothes disappear?

You're standing there naked and frozen in shock. Is this really happening? Is it a dream? Yes, maybe you fell asleep in the bath and this is your dream. It was relaxing enough in there to fall asleep.

"Looking for something, Love?"

You hear Kokushibou speaking in a teasing tone at the doorway to your bedroom.

He's back? You think. You hadn't planned for that.

You're not really embarrassed about being naked in front of him, because he's seen it all before, anyway. And, you're from a more modern time period so you aren't as modest as your demon lover is. You shamelessly turn around to face him, flashing him with the entire front side of your body.

But your expression and your confidence immediately changes. You see the clothes you set aside for yourself draped over Kokushibou's broad shoulder. Kokushibou is snickering under his breath with a very mischievous look on his face.

Yeah, he looks like this. He's enjoying every minute.

Your face gets red. "Koku, ehm ... what are ..." You smile nervously. "What are you doing back so soon?"

Kokushibou pats the clothes draped over his shoulder. "You know that I can't bear being away from you, my dearest y/n," he says.

He's still snickering like a naughty child. He never got to do shit like this as a kid because his dad would have beat him up if he did, so you can't blame the man, but still ...

... he has your clothes.

"Koku, give me back my clothes," you say, a bit sternly.

"Ah, it doesn't feel so good, does it," he says and hums a "mhm" to himself. "Do you not remember when you played a sneaky little trick on me when I was washing?"

Of course you did.

"Ah." You scratch your head. "So, it's payback."

He pats the clothes over his shoulder. "You couldn't find anything in there either, could you, my love?" His eyes gesture to the wardrobe behind you.

You're starting to get angry now. You might have taken his clothes but you didn't do this. "Yeah, and what happened to all of my other clothes, huh?"

Kokushibou snorts. He wants to burst out laughing but he's holding it back. "I took them away."

"You did what!?"

He giggles a little. "I took them away," he repeats in a sing-songy tone.

"To where?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Somewhere."

You strictly extend your arm. "Kokushibou, give me my clothes."

"You'll have to catch me!" He runs off.

You know how fast he is and he's much faster than you, so you don't even take the time to throw on one of his kimonos so you have something covering you. You run out of the bedroom, completely naked, and chase after him with all of your might. Kokushibou doesn't go so fast that you lose him, but he stays a distance ahead of you. You can hear him laughing and you can see him looking back at you, very obviously enjoying the view.

The two of you keep running through the Infinity Castle like that, making a huge ruckus. Kokushibou knows that the inside of the castle should be kept quiet, so he runs outside onto the ground.

Oh fuck! You think. You hesitate to continue to run after him, but you do it anyway. You're going to get him and teach him a lesson. Your determination to do that outweighs the shame you'd have for running outdoors naked.

"Y/n! Y/n! You're slow!" Kokushibou calls. He laughs harder. It's a really hearty kind of laugh, coming straight from the depths of his belly.

It's nice that he's having so much fun, and hearing him laugh so much is making you smile but DAMMIT YOU WANT YOUR CLOTHES.

Kokushibou takes you half a lap around the castle before he intentionally slows down, having tortured you enough (and having gotten enough of the view he wanted). He stops suddenly, and you're going at your top speed. You aren't able to come to a halt immediately, so you slide into him, knocking him onto the ground. The next thing you know, you're on top of him.

Kokushibou is laughing and grabbing at your body. His eyes are so full of life and of course, he's blushing.

"I like you right here, exactly as you are," he says to you and gives your bare ass a squeeze.

Now that you caught him and can snatch your clothes to put them on whenever you want to, you're laughing, too. You grind against his clothed crotch. He grunts and groans under his breath, staring into you eyes as he starts to help you move in the way he wants.

The two of you are so much in the moment that you've forgotten that you're outside.

"Ahh ... Kokushibou ..." you say quietly and bring your lips to his. You don't hesitate to stick your tongue in his mouth as you kiss him.

This is perfect. Both of you are on the way to reach feelings of bliss, and your mouths are already feeling them. Until ...

... there is an angry knocking at the window.

You had chased Kokushibou halfway around the Infinity Castle, and when you tackled him to the ground, you ended up just a couple meters away from the castle wall.

The knocking continues, harder this time. Your lips part from Kokushibou's.

Kokushibou scowls. "Who's disturbing us now ...?"

You were both still riding on the remnants of your ecstasy that you still haven't realised that you were not in private.

The window opened.

"KOKUSHIBOU," came Muzan's snapping, angry voice.

Kokushibou looked petrified. He gasped a little.

Your body started to shiver. You stared down at Kokushibou. You wouldn't dare look up at that window.

"Y-yes, Muzan-sama ...?" Kokushibou spoke, trying to conceal how his voice was shaking. He looked up at the window with his middle and upper eyes.

Muzan was leaning out the window, dressed in a white shirt and ornate vest. "WHAT do you think you are doing out here ..." Every word that came out of his mouth was like a sharp dagger.

Kokushibou's Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed a thick, sour clump of saliva. "I am -- I am -- I --" He couldn't speak.

"Get this filthy work away from my wing," Muzan sneered. "If it were anyone else but you, Kokushibou, both of you would be dead."

"I -- Yes, Muzan-sama. Yes," Kokushibou said.

"I will count to five and you better be out of my sight."

It didn't even take until Muzan counted to one before Kokushibou had you wrapped in his arms and evacuated the area. He sped at his top speed back to your wing and delivered you both to your bedroom.

He was careful when he set you down on the futon, but with himself, he was not so gentle. His knees buckled from under him and he fell to the floor. His face, ears, and neck were all as red as a bright tomato.

"Kokushibou," you said and went over to him. You wrapped an arm around him and rested your chin on his shoulder. "Kokushibou, it'll be all right."

"I ... can't believe ... this happened ..." he said. He covered his face with his hands.

"It'll be fine. Muzan's just grumpy. He won't hold it against you."

"I will never live this down ..."

"Just give it time." You kiss him in his hair.

He takes some deep breaths. You continue to kiss him in his hair and stroke his hair. It calms him.

"It'll all be fine ... it'll all be fine ..." you say in a soothing voice.

"Y-yes." He puffs out a long, loud deep breath. "Thank you, y/n." He takes another deep breath and looks at you. "I know I can overcome anything as long as you're by my side."

You tuck some of his bangs behind his ear and give him a kiss to his forehead. He sighs.

"You should get dressed now. I do apologise for how this turned out." He bows his head to you.

You gently push at his chin to rise his head. "There's no need. Really." You smile. "It was fun."

Kokushibou smiles a little. "Also, your half of the wardrobe is packed in the other room. I didn't dispose of anything." He snickers. He then turns to his other shoulder where he had been carrying your clothes. But when he turns, nothing is there.

You lean over to see. "Ehm ... where's the stuff I wanted to wear after my bath."

He looks at you, his face beet red again. "I must have dropped it." He falls backwards onto the futon and stares up at the ceiling. "I am an idiot."

You snicker and cuddle up to him. "But you're my idiot."

[strwberri-milk]

Hallos!

Would you please write Diluc or Kaeya. They see their lover dance in the rain, and their lover finally sees them. Their lover offers them to dance with them if they'd like.

TYSM. Btw your writing is so smooth, the words just seem to flow.

thank you!! the writing flows probablyl bc i black out when i write LMAO jkjk but i do try to enter a flow state to just get everything out which is why. i have weird errors i never catch lol also where i work i gotta go outside a lot and the other day there was a massive storm and me and my friend decided to just go fuck it and walked back in the storm bc here there's no guaruntee the rain will lighten up and we didnt wanna get trapped on the island where we were at the time and came back up to the main store just. soaked. it was awful i couldnt even wear my shirt anymore

Diluc, as per usual was caught up inside with some work. With the heavy rain he knew his work as the Darknight Hero would be severely impeded so he wasn't planning on going for a patrol this evening, leaving him more time to spend with you. He was just trying to finish his paperwork at this point for the day so he could spend the rest of the evening with you without worrying about anything else.

You had found a way to entertain yourself without Diluc, hearing the slight roll of thunder in the distance and preoccupying yourself with a small impromptu picnic on the steps to the manor while you waited for the rain to come down.

In about an hour Diluc heard the sound of raindrops hitting against the ground. The rain was slight and barely coming in so he decided to keep his window open for the fresh air to come through, almost missing the sound of your laughter on the ground.

He stuck his head out, trying to look for you when he saw you just happily dancing around in the rain. You were singing to a song in your head, swaying to the beat you imagined as the rain comes down. It didn't drown you out with how soft it was coming down, but he was getting worried that you'd get cold from being outside and wet.

Diluc was about to call out to you when you looked up and met his eyes with a huge smile. He couldn't tell you no now with how happy you looked. Instead, he comes down and opens the door, watching from the doorway as you skip around.

He should have expected you to march right up to him, pulling him under the rain and making his already unruly locks even worse. He sees the curling up as you pull him around to the number you've made up, sighing good-naturedly before pulling you into his arms.

You're a little surprised until you feel the heat of his body get a little warmer, the slight glow of his vision telling you that he was using it to keep you warm. His arms wrap around your waist, making you slow down to the rhythm of a smooth waltz and keeping you there, nice and cozy. Now, the two of you can dance as much as you want to without Diluc having to worry about you freezing.

Kaeya was inside trying to make some dinner. You were supposed to be running some errands for him when he discovered some of the ingredients he wanted to use were missing. Thankfully they weren't anything too major but he was hoping that he could have them in a timely manner to ensure everything tasted as perfect as he wanted it to.

He didn't expect to hear the door open for just a split second, groceries getting plopped onto the ground before you run out of the house again. He goes to investigate what you're trying to do, seeing you laying in the grass for a bit as the rain just starts to come down.

Curiously, he continues to watch what you'll do as the rain comes down harder, cringing a little as he realises it's taking you a while to get up. Hopefully, you don't track too much mud into the house later, but if this is how you want to have fun he's not going to stop you.

When the rain starts to pour a little you finally get up, practically frolicking around the yard as he recognises you dancing around. He smiles to himself, still watching from the safety of the inside of the house as he hears the sound of your muffled laughter.

it takes you a while but you finally notice that he's just been watching you for the last little bit. When he doesn't make a move to come outside with you you pout a little, gesturing for him to open the door. When he finally does, you continue to motion for him to come outside, Kaeya doing so a little hesitantly. He just doesn't like the feeling of wet clothes if he can help it, at least able to slip on some waterproof boots.

You try to get him to dance with you, taking his hands in yours as he follows your slightly erratic movements. He's just trying not to accidentally use his vision, thinking that accidentally giving you hypothermia would not be fun in the least.

After his initial reservations are assuaged, he pulls the most romantic moves. He kisses you softly in the rain, twirling you around before pushing your body into a deep bend. You swear if he weren't there to catch you you'd just fall onto the ground.

His strong hold keeps your body afloat as the two of you dance, Kaeya whispering the sweetest things he can muster as you keep each other warm in the chill of the rain.

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Okay I'm back in my feels about tydii, so here have my list of headcannons that will never die;

Saedii's hair is uncontrollable when it's not braided, bc 7 braids that don't look stringy = thicc af hair and from experience, that shit is a nightmare regardless of texture. Tyler has made the mistake of undoing Saedii's hair for her before bed and waking up with both of them tangled in it many times.

Tyler likes older music and by that I mean he is 100% a swiftie. Saedii once threatens to break up with him bc if she has to hear the chorus of Shake it Off through their mind bond one more time while he's a galaxy away she's going to punch someone in the face (possibly herself).

Saedii's a biter and vastly enjoys watching Tyler try to look all official in his AL uniform with his neck covered in bruises. Even better if she knows he has to teach younger cadets who are all short enough to see them very clearly.

Tyler gets her back by being as obviously and publicly in love with her as he can. He will call her every ridiculous pet name that he can think of and holds her hand as much as possible. Saedii claims to hate it but no one misses that she's always the slightest bit more purple in the ears when he does it.

Saedii has the ship log footage of Tyler killing the drakkon saved on her personal uni. No one is really sure why. Except for Tyler, who knows exactly why she has it (bc long distance is a bitch and it gets her going lol)

Tyler keeps a list on his uni of all of the things he likes about Saedii. He sends her one every day if they have to be long distance. Saedii's not one for super open affection, but in return she sends him photos of things that made her think of him. They're not all winners (she sent him a photo of the Great Ultrasaur after they'd had a particularly nasty fight) but the good ones make up for the bad ones (and the one she once sent him of her in her favourite bra more than made up for plenty of bad ones).

Saedii sings their kids Syldrathi lullabies, but from memory, which means Tyler is unsure if they're actually lullabies or softened versions of some weird Syldrathi death metal (some of them are but Saedii won't tell him that). Ty's not much better, he goes between rock ballads and whatever hyperpop song Scar stuck in his head last. And Taylor Swift, because he's on a mission to get his kids to annoy their mother with it.

Tyler has pretty regular nightmares after all the shit he's seen and doesn't like to talk about it with the others because he wants everyone to think he's fine. Saedii always knows and will call him in the early hours of his day so he can get everything out of his system before he has to appear all perfect.

Saedii's lieutenants are more scared of her after she gets a Be'shmai than they were before. None of them are really sure what about it makes her seem scarier, but she is. And don't even get them started on how terrifying she was when pregnant (Tyler's not sure what they're on about, according to him, she was basically a teddy bear while pregnant).

The pair of them are complete horndogs. It's actually so stupid how often they get caught doing stuff in places they shouldn't be. Scarlett is fully ready to bleach her eyeballs just so she never has to walk in on them again.

They adopt many many animals over the years they're together. A couple were pets for their kids (Tyler vetoed a drakkon for either of them, so Lae had a snake and Kal had a husky) but after the kids moved out, Saedii got a couple of drakkon and Tyler got a couple of dogs. They also have a cat, but neither are really sure how, the cat just appeared one day.

Saedii is the favourite grandmother of all of her grandkids and she's definitely not emotional and totally normal about it. To be fair, Kal and Shae's kids don't have another option, but that's cancelled out by the fact that Lae and Flora's kids have about 6 other grandmothers.

Tyler gets so hot-and-bothered when Saedii's being bossy. And he plays it off for the most part, but if she asks he'll happily admit to her that she could step on him and he wouldn't complain. Saedii also gets hot-and-bothered when Tyler's being bossy. But only when he's bossy to other people.

Anyway, add more if you want

[kbagraces]

Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(Third person perspective)

PART 4 -

I KNOW IT WON’T WORK

"What if I'm not worth the time and breath your saving?"

yourusername just posted

It's finally finished! My debut album! I'm so proud of this, she's my baby. Thank you for being patient over these last 6 years. We've had singles, we've had EPs and now an ALBUM.

Introducing "I know it won't work" out November 4th!

To thank you, one more single off the album before she's all yours. The song the whole project is named after, 'I know it won't work' is yours!

Liked by landonorris, pietrapiola and 127,000 others

Since leaving Lando's in the summer, y/n had worked non stop on the album. She was right in telling him it wouldn't work as they now were speaking less than they ever had. Hence the blatantly obvious title track written solely about him. She put her soul into this album, songs that were personal to her every experience.

Everyone would interpret them differently, one of the things she loved about her art. But he'd know and in the back of her mind she worried for his reaction. Would he be happy? Would he be hurt?

Beautiful song. Call me sometime.

That was it. A simple message as if he knew she was worrying. It was just enough to calm her. She left his in May it was now September. Things were fine for a month, until calls got few and far between how she'd expected. It was normal she knew they'd come back to each other but this one hurt more, maybe because she felt his promises were now empty.

July was worse as Lando was spotted with some model she'd not heard of. She wasn’t one to believe gossip pages, so when she saw she couldn't think quick enough before her hands had type a message to Pietra, her inside woman when it came to Lando gossip due to her boyfriend and his 'bromance' as they call it.

Pietra confirmed they were causally seeing each other. Empty promises. Y/n found herself infatuated with the mystery girl, leading to her writing one of her songs 'Lacy' off her new album.

The song she is performing tonight at the Brits. She's beyond nervous. Not speaking to Lando before hand like she usually would isn't helping. She's on in 30 minutes and her brain is racking up all the things that could go wrong. But he's not hers to call anymore.

Pietra was there but she was engrossed in her phone, not aware of y/n’s mental termoil.

Y/n’s phone rings... Lando. She doesn't want to give in but God does she need these nerves to go.

"Hi Lan, long time no speak." She sighs out of awkwardness.

"P told me you're a surprise guest at the Brits? Why didn't you tell me? I'm so proud of you y/n/n." He cheers. She can hear the smile in his voice talking like nothing had changed, like she hadn't just released a song about how much she dreaded the idea of them together.

"I wasn't meant to tell anybody, you know."

"I'm not anybody though, y/n/n." He sounds hurt now. That's not what she meant. She just wasn't sure he cared anymore. She'd been ignoring him after she found out about his mystery girl leading them to only drift further apart. "What are you singing tonight? The song about me or..." he teases.

She's glad he gets it, she's glad he's not angry.

"Um, well. No. Well it's not the latest song if that's what's your asking?" She stutters, it's not the one he's heard, but not far fri being about him.

"Another one about me? Oh I am flattered. Can this one be a little happier this time. I wasn't all bad in our friendship."

"Oh this one is sort of about you, but not really. And it's not happy I'm sorry, I wrote it when I was a little crazy but it's too good to not release." She's rambling, he knows she's nervous whether it be about the performance about the song abour talking to him, he can sense it.

"10 minutes!" Someone yells form outside her dressing room

"Lan I've got to go. Thank you for calling. We'll speak soon?" Another empty promise.

"Y/n/n, wait. You'll smash it you know. You're amazing at what you do, everyone will love it whatever it's about."

He always knew what she needed to hear, she hated that about him. She hated that they were still so in sync. But he's with someone else, it won't work.

As she steps on stage, smoke circles around her feet. The lights so bright she can barely see the crowd, it makes it easier.

"Lacy, oh Lacy..."

The cheers were deafening, she'd never felt more acknowledged, more proud. Tears in her eyes she hugs her guitarist so tight. She's proud of herself, her hard work paying off.

She doesn't stick around for press, the alcohol she downed after her performance would throw all PR training out the window. Pietra joins her to continue the party back at her London flat.

Yourusername just posted a picture

You got the one thing that I want

Brits thank you for having me

A couple of drinks more and P makes her way home to Max, leaving Pippa alone once more. A little too drunk to control her best interests, picking up her phone. Clicking Lando. It rings and rings until,

"Y/n, it's 2am where you are! What's wrong?"

"Lan! I did it! Did you see me? Of course you didn't, but I did it! I wish you were here." Why did she say that, but she didn't care right now she wanted him to be proud of her.

"Of course I saw y/n/n. Would never miss something like that. You're so talented, unbelievably talented."

"Lando who's on the phone"

Y/n heard it, the girl she's penned as Lacy. Embarrassment flushes her already red face from the alcohol.

"I didn't realise you had company, I'll leave you to it. Im sorry." A lump forming almost instantly in her throat. The alcohol heightening her emotions, although they were very real, just never this on the surface.

"Don't be sorry. I'll sit in the living room, we haven't spoke in so long please don't hang up. Please." She can't say no, she could never say no. He has a hold on her. They both know it, it infuriates her, causing her to blurt out emotions she saved only for writing sessions never to his face.

"You broke your promise." So quiet he almost missed it.

"What promise?"

Ouch.

"You promised to wait for me. You said it'd be different. We speak less than we ever have. I'm losing you and you're losing me. It's supposed to be us Lando. Now its you two."

"You never gave me a chance, y/n/n. You never gave me a chance in our friendship nor a relationship. You got fixated that it would be bad, you pushed me away not the other way around."

"I'm scared that's why! Not because I don't want you because I'm terrified it'll ruin what we have."

"Well we don't even have that anymore."

Double ouch.

"I'm going to go. I'm sorry I shouldn't have called."

"Y/n/n- wait- I-" He stutters, he doesn't know what he wants to say, he just doesn't want her to go. The girl in his bed is a pass time, he even thinks she's aware of it. She's enjoying her 5 minutes of fame, nice holidays and dinners knowing she's a place holder for the one he can't have.

"Bye Lan"

Tears finally leave her eyes, built up from 2 years of fighting for each other to end with nothing. Why was she so scared of the one thing she wanted? She hated herself right now. She couldn't stop crying from such a high to such a low. She reached to her phone which was still pinging with messages from Lando. Switching it off the tears fell and fell staining her blush coloured pillows.

This is all wrong and she's not sure it'll ever be right.

Masterlist

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Answer the Call

Prologue =-= Next

Author's note: Symith's debut in Husbandry!

Warnings: None. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Symith wakes up on a world he hadn't been on when he'd gone to sleep the night before.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34

The last thing Symith remembers before waking up on this warmly temperate forest floor was celebrating a victory with his brothers. That consisted of feasting, drinking, and boasting of fights and stories of the glories of the past. He'd been very drunk and had helped, as well as been helped by a couple of his brothers as the staggered to their beds, singing and drinking loudly in the halls of their ship.

They'd collapsed in a drunken heap, and fell asleep, he knows that neither of them are on top of and/or next to him, because Vaskarl snores like a bad engine, due to a badly broken nose that hadn't been fixed and Alvunn had a tendency to kick when he slept, the bastard. So he's not Happy when he realizes he's just in his sleeping shorts and weaponless.

He gets up, glad that his Space Marine Constitution means that he doesn't get a Hang Over that base line humans complain about if they drink too much. He takes in a couple of deep breaths through his nose as he looks around trying to gather his Barings. He can smell some pollution in the air, that means that civilization is somewhere on this planet, even if he can't see it at the moment.

Shrugging his shoulders he looks around and tilts his head to the side as he tries to hear for a river or stream as he scratches one of his cheeks as he starts to slowly spiral out from where he was placed. He wonders if this is a 'surprise' training session or if some of his naughty little shit Scouts had decided to prank him and his fellow Sergeants by separating them and putting them on a safe, if unknown planet and were watching and snickering at him from a distance.

If that's the case, he's going to find them, scold them for their audacity, and tell them he was impressed that they managed to pull of something like this. And to impress upon them to Never. Do This. Again. By having them run training sessions until they cried mercy, which he'd only grant two more cycles later.

Pups, could be, should be rowdy at times, but also need to learn respect and to listen to those who know better and have more experience and age under their belts. He'd learned of the Larger Pups- er Primaris Marines. They are an… interesting bunch, getting them to warm up to the rest of them had taken patience and skill.

Some of his brothers had been… uncertain about the pups, but they gotten to know them. Good pups, Large, strong, clever, good hunters. Just need to sharpen their teeth, but that comes with age and time and battles won. As he continued to explore the forest, he finds a river and watches how active it is and slowly scoops up a handful of water and drinks from it.

The water is nice and cool, refreshing, and only a hint of pollution making it bitter on his tongue. Watching it's flow he nods his head a little and starts to walk along the water's edge downstream. Most civilizations build along, around, or near sources of water. Unless some other reasons, environmental or dangers, made them build farther away.

He continues to walk, it's a nice forest, filled with life and greenery. He's used to the bitter ice and cold of Fenris, but more temperate worlds can be a treat to relax on from time to time. It takes several hours, but he hears the sounds of civilization a lot sooner than his sight starts to see the outline of base line human built buildings.

He hears the sound of city life clammer out cacophonously as he hears the… hm… He doesn't recognize the language that the locals are speaking, which will make things difficult. Well, time to see how these base liners react to partial nudity and Astartes in nothing but shorts.

The reactions from base line humans can be hilariously entertaining at times. Some can't stop but stare at his form, as muscular and strong as he is. Their eyes tracing his scars and what not. He's walking through the city and is amused to see the way that the base line humans to double takes and sometimes gawk at him. One of them is on a miniature data-slate, tapping away at it furiously and several minutes later some Imperial Fists show up. Boo. They can be No Fun at times.

As they head over to him, the Imperial Fist in Charge taking off his helmet and saying, "Greetings Cousin, I am Brother Captain Castor Polion of the Imperial Fists. What's your name?"

"I am Brother Sargent Symith of the Space Wolves, Fourth Company," Symith says with a drawl, "And before you say anything. I woke up in a forrest several hours on foot in the south-westerly direction."

They explain to him where, and when he is, and how randomly Space Marines from various Eras would arrive. It didn't seem to matter when or where they were from. Which Legion or Chapter, as well as which Alignment they are from. They also explain about the Alliance between the various factions, in order to not tear apart Ancient Terra.

He's not sure how he feels about that, but so long as the non-imperial factions don't start shit he won't. He tells them as such. The Imperial Fist Brother Captain nods in agreement and he decides to follow the lot of them back to their base.

He's glad to have more clothes and shoes, and a bit grumpy, but understanding that they don't have armor for him. What with it being damn impossible to make more in Ancient Terra. Still, he'd like to have something more than cloth to protect himself.

They likely want him to prove himself before arming him, as much as it chafes, it makes sense that they would have to be cautious and hoard their resources on this precious lonely blue pearl of a planet.

[randoimago]

Hi there can I please have headcanons for sylvain bernadetta yuri and dorothea with a deaf s/o who speaks with sign language and can read lips please and thank you very much I don't why but I can't help but imagine both sylvain and dorothea would try to flirt with the reader but then they'd ignore them on accident cause they can't hear lol 😭

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Character(s): Sylvain, Dorothea, Bernadetta, Yuri

Note(s): This took me way too long to get out and I'm sorry about that, I hope you enjoy what I wrote!!

Bernadetta

She does her best to learn sign language so she can speak with you. Honestly, talking to other people is so intimidating so she likes being able to use sign language instead.

Her only issue is that she flails her hands a lot when she's panicked and messes up on signing a bit (and then she panics because she messed up and really hopes she wasn't accidentally rude to you).

Can't help but worry for you. She knows you're strong since you're in the academy, but she's afraid that should an ambush happen or monsters show up or just something goes wrong, no one will be able to tell you in time and it scares her. You'll have to calm her down because she panics too easily over the "what if's".

Dorothea

She did pout a bit at you seemingly ignoring her the first time she tried flirting. When she found out you're deaf, then she does her best to apologize to you, having to repeat herself since she talked too fast the first time for you to read her lips.

Dorothea finds herself enjoying learning sign language with you. She's a bit saddened that you won't be able to hear her sing, but she still tries her best to describe the lyrics and tone to you.

Dorothea is staying by your side if you're on the battlefield with her. She doesn't particularly like fighting in the first place, so she'd like to be by your side and stay in the back or use some magic instead to fight. Of course, if you prefer fighting up close and personal then she's happy to throw some fire to enemies that try to hit blind spots.

Sylvain

He heard that there was a student that's deaf at the academy, but he didn't realize it was you. Honestly, was taking you ignoring him as you rejecting his constant flirting.

But then he stepped into your view and saw you get startled. Sylvain began apologizing and felt a bit like an idiot, but honestly, now that you're his S/O, it's a fun thing to think back to and laugh about.

Sylvain, of course, worries about you when it comes to training or should you have to be on the battlefield, but he also trusts you that you'll be okay. Or, at the very least, you know how to get yourself out of any situation that could occur. Just maybe try to stay close to him. You can ride on the back of his horse with him if you want.

Yuri

It was one of the times that he had gone to the academy just to roam around and gather information. He saw you in the distance signing to someone in a conversation. Yuri easily put two and two together, and he couldn't help but be intrigued.

Yuri hadn't meant to end up dating you when he approached you to learn about your situation, but he's not complaining now. He just makes sure you're able to read his lips when he teases you. Or he just does it with sign language since he likes seeing you respond with the facial reactions you give him.

Yuri prefers to stay on the sidelines or be sneaky when it comes to the battlefield, so he'll stay with you and make sure you're alright with him. You're his S/O so he has full confidence in you, but he still has some healing ready should you need it.

Taglist:

@unhelpfulnpc

[stopper-my-heart]

"Nick/Charlie & Arthur/Merlin (AU Past Lives) – [Taylor Swift's] 'Timeless'" by @imagine-dragonlords

This is a Heartstopper blog and will remain a Heartstopper-only blog 99% of the time.

But this video really hits me hard.

Imagining a hypothetical historical Merlin-and-Arthur trying to be together and the meta level of remembering what it was like with the BBC / world and Merthur as recently as 2012, compared with having Heartstopper on Netflix and Nick & Charlie now.. There's so much further we have to go, but I have a lot of feelings about the progress we've made, too.

Also: "I'd like to think we'd find each other in any universe".

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

This post was originally going to end there but then I discovered this Merthur fanfic by @queerofthedagger and it's a perfect antidote to the video and goes towards healing my Merthur-broken heart.

The fanfic shows what Merlin and Arthur could've been if they'd had the time and freedom to talk about the things that matter. They become so "Nick & Charlie" in it and it's glorious. Also, Merlin's mum = Sarah Nelson. I think you'll need to have watched and cared about BBC Merlin to appreciate it, but recently isn't necessary (10+ years is fine).

The author has their own summary that you can find on the page, but I think this sums it up very well:

Happiness is bubbling in his chest, his blood singing with it and this, this is what they’re supposed to be. Carving their own way and finding alternate routes to be themselves, without being tied down and crushed underneath some distant destiny* that cares nothing for them.

*or the BBC, society, etc.

Below the jump are content warnings for the fic plus some quotations from it that remind me of Nick & Charlie, which are more for my sake than anyone else's.

CW: violence, murderous intent, 1 non-graphic sex scene (near the beginning of ch. 13, easy to skip)

Quotations:

“You don’t have a weapon,” he says because Merlin might’ve turned him into a lovestruck fool, but he’s never going to stop poking and prodding him to make up for it. Of course, it would be far easier if one symptom of said lovestruck condition wasn’t that it clearly makes him as much of an idiot as Merlin loves to claim he is.

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

“You’re brilliant,” he breathes into the safety of Merlin’s hair, revelling in the way Merlin tightens his grip on him. “It’s brilliant.”

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

“I—yeah no, I’d rather not,” Merlin agrees, though there’s something resigned lurking in the black of his eyes. “I’m—” “If the next word is 'sorry,' Merlin, I advise you to stop right there.”

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

“You’d miss me!” Arthur calls, having to raise his voice for Merlin to hear him over the distance as he’s walking away. He gets a rude hand gesture in response, and he can only be thankful that there’s no one else around to witness the grin splitting his face.

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

“Maybe it is,” he cuts in, shrugging. “But not so much that you have to sacrifice your own happiness for it. You’re—can’t you see how important you are, simply because you’re you? Because of what you mean to me and how you make my life better?" [...] It’s so much more than he meant to say, but he doesn’t regret a single word of it. He would say it a hundred times over if it got Merlin to finally believe it.

AKA Sports Day speech -----------------

The clarity of what, truly, is the root of the problem hits Arthur like a punch. “Gods, you—Merlin. Merlin, you don’t have to make up for it,” he croaks out, his voice cracking and breaking. He shifts closer, pressing his forehead against Merlin’s, and he can feel Merlin’s shallow breathing against his chest. “It’s not a burden, alright? It’s not a burden, and you aren’t a burden, and I will fight anyone who dares to tell you otherwise.”

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

His whole body is singing with it, his skin feeling too small to contain the magnitude of emotions rushing through him, and he has to break the kiss before it overwhelms him entirely.

Insert Nick gasping for dear life breath -----------------

Arthur keeps his eyes closed, their foreheads still pressed together, trying desperately to not unravel at the seams. He’s almost afraid that this is a dream, that he’s going to wake up any second now, with Merlin still close but not like this. Not like Arthur has been craving for aeons.

In which Arthur is also Charlie -----------------

Arthur splutters, though he doubts that it sounds anywhere as indignant as he’d like it to. “How could I not know? If you recall, I was the one who kissed you first, all those months back when we were travelling to Ynys Gybi.” “Yes, and then you never brought it up again.” “Because you never brought it up again. I thought that you simply wanted to forget about it, or that I crossed a line!” Merlin huffs out a laugh, but his eyes are still brimming with affection. “I thought you regretted it,” he says quietly, lips quirked at the corners. “I thought you were just panicking, and that if you had meant it, you would’ve said something.”

A.k.a. conversation in Charlie's bedroom after their first kiss (except it's later on here) -----------------

Hunith takes one look at them the next morning before she smirks. “Finally figured it out, did you?” Arthur promptly chokes on his food, coughing and spluttering as his face grows warm. Merlin isn’t much better off, even the tips of his ears turning red, though at least he’s spared the coughing fit.

In which Hunith continues to be Sarah Nelson (or the Sarah Nelson Charlie expects, anyway) -----------------

Snow starts falling in big flakes about an hour in, and Arthur didn’t count on how much of a distraction it would be. It catches in Merlin’s hair and his lashes, a stark contrast to the black of it, and his eyes appear even brighter than usual. It’s a struggle to not drag him off and kiss the crystals of ice off his face, and Arthur can’t remember when he’s become such a terrible, utter sap. That is, until he steps out of Hunith’s house after lunch, just about warmed up from the thick stew she made, and a snowball hits him straight in the face.

If Nick & Charlie's Snow Day came slightly later. Or maybe this is just the same -----------------

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Lark's Nest

Hello hello! I tremendously enjoy your writing! Fic request where Logan is a jazz/blues singer? Perhaps an au, perhaps the other sides hear him on accident, perhaps he sings to comfort someone! There are no wrong answers. Thank you for indulging this silly little prompt if you choose to do it! :) – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: gunshot wounds

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2018

The Lark's Nest, the nightclub in the center of the Sanders territory, is the latest site of a violent shootout between the two rival gangs occupying the land near the water. In the aftermath of the incident, the lounge singer tends to the crew. There is always a song when the worst is over, that's when the birds come out to sing.

The Lark's Nest stood at the edge of the harbor, water lapping against the docks as the remnants of whitecaps slumped into the exhausted tides. A red sky covered them as the sun sunk lower and lower. The walls bore the scars of the most recent shoot-out, the neighborhood holding its breath as the last of the cars' squealing tires faded into the distance. The crew had long ago slunk beneath the club floor to shelter in the safety of the backrooms, having lasted the worst of the violence huddled together. When the bell had finally rung to signal an end to the shooting, only a few had dared venture briefly up to the main floor to assess the damage and help with the clean-up before retreating to the sanctuary of a quiet room.

Only two had the wherewithal to move about the ship—the bartender, who'd taken his place behind the bar to ward off any other patrons who might be unawares of the mess they'd walk into, and the lounge singer, a nursemaid in disguise who hadn't nearly enough significance to be worth tossing around.

"Logan," the bartender had called as he ventured closer amidst the knocked-over tables and destroyed chairs, "grab a bunk in the back and sleep. I know you had a rough time as any of us."

"I have to check," he insisted, stubborn as ever, "any fight can hurt anyone, no matter who they are or how quickly they get behind cover."

The bartender let out a grunt, but a fond one, as he stepped back and let him fuss. His hands were quick and sure, lightly running over hands, arms, legs. As he placed his hands lightly on either side of his torso, he looked up.

"Do you feel any injuries?" He prodded gently at his ribs. "Were you tossed about at all?"

"A few bruises, I'm sure, but nothing serious. Hey," he warned when Logan prodded a ticklish spot, "enough of that, lad, or I'll show you how unhurt my hands are."

He raised his hands in surrender, squeaking when he reached to squeeze his side.

"Go on," he said, jerking his head toward the stairs, "I'm sure you've more patients to torment."

"Are you sure, Patton?"

"Yes, lad, I'm sure. Go on, now."

Nothing but fondness laced his tone as Logan turned to descend the staircase in the corner. He walked along the red halls until he reached the door to the club's private corridors, carefully descending until he reached the first set of quarters. The lighting flickered overhead—perhaps the wiring had been affected by the shoot out more than anticipated. He knocked sharply on the first door to the left.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," he called, "come to see to your health."

"Logan, yes, come in."

There was never much dignity to be had when one was nursing a fresh gunshot wound, but the crew did its best to right itself as Logan entered. Remus, the one who'd called out that it was alright to enter, scratched his scarred face as Logan looked him over.

"Nothing but a few knocks about." He gestured to Virgil, the younger boy. "Powder monkey got tossed a bit when he got down here. Might want to look him over, can't have him nursing a concussion while he's running on duty again."

"That was one time," Virgil grumbled, mostly resigned to the teasing, "and it wasn't even my fault."

"Aye, lad, you keep telling yourself that."

Logan bade him to turn his head, looking at the back to check for wounds. He ran his fingers over the area, looking for blood, swelling, a bump, anything.

"Does it hurt?"

"No more than a hangover."

"Follow my finger," he instructed, checking his eyes as best he could in the dim light. "Any dizziness? Sickness?"

"No, sir."

"You should be alright, then," he said, ruffling his hair, "maybe stay away from the drink until tomorrow, huh?"

A slight redness touched the boy's cheeks as he nodded his head. "Thank you, sir."

Remus snorts. "You should stick to calling him 'Logan,' you'll make him think he's older than he is. Pretty songbirds aren't to be made to feel old."

"It's a sign of respect! I call everyone 'sir!'"

Logan laughed, ruffling his hair again and patting his cheek. He politely ignored the way it became warmer under his touch and tuned out the teasing—and protesting—that followed as he shut the door.

He could hear voices behind the second door as he approached.

"No, you shouldn't yell, he'll probably be here in a minute."

"I swear, if I find out someone's held him up because they need help 'scratching an itch,' I'll kill them."

"No, you won't."

He knocked on the door and one of them cried out: "If that's you, Logan, get in here!"

He smiled, opened the door, and laid eyes on a swollen ankle, his hands already tugging the bandages from his pocket.

"My savior," Janus grumped, holding out his hands as if in benediction, "come to ease every pain I have."

"I'm not a miracle worker, I'm just the lounge singer."

"You're the closest thing to a medic we've got and right now, there's no difference."

Logan knelt, carefully taking Janus's ankle and rotating it slowly. "How did you hurt it?"

"Stood when he shouldn't have," Roman remarks, smirking at Janus's glare, "it was either this or a trip to the bottom of the harbor."

"Well, it seems to be sprained, but not broken." He reached for the wrap and began to secure it around his ankle. "Just keep it elevated for now, I don't think we're going to get anything significant enough to keep it from swelling any further. Does it hurt very badly?"

"Better, now that you're here."

"Flirt when he's not tending to your wounds," Roman groused, and Janus chuckled.

"No better time to flirt, sweetie," only for his voice to soften as Logan glanced up at him to check the bandage wasn't too tight. "You're an angel, lad."

"Still just a lounge singer."

"With a voice like yours? No, songbird, you're as much an angel as any painted one."

"That'll lift their spirits," Roman agreed, "if you sang for us. We'll hear you over the system, no need to drag anyone anywhere."

"I make no promises."

"Tell you what, you're off to see the big guy next, aren't you?"

"I might be."

"You tell him, songbird, that I asked for a song. See what he says."

"If you promise to stay off your feet until I can check the ankle tomorrow, I'll tell him."

"You're an excellent negotiator, lad. Don't let anyone tell you different."

He gave Roman a once-over and left assured that he was mostly unharmed, save for a sprained dignity. So he closed the door with another loud reminder that he ask the big guy and turned to descend the final staircase into the bowels of the club. The red walls gave way to darker wallpaper, the lights grower softer and darker as he approached the massive set of doors at the end of the hall.

A knock, and a low voice: "Come in."

The boss looked up as he pushed open the door, indicating the seat opposite his desk.

"Just a moment, lad, I've a sentence to finish."

The lack of obvious wounds made him listen, sitting politely in the chair until the soft scratch of the pen came to an end. He laid the pen aside and let out a long breath, looking up at him.

"Are the crew alright?"

"A few bumps and bruises, a few gunshot wounds, a sprained ankle. Hardly the worst."

"Good." He tilted his head, considering Logan. "I take it you weren't able to rest much earlier, were you?"

"No more than you could, I'm sure."

"As is my duty."

"And mine would be to tend to whatever you're trying to hide underneath your suit jacket."

The boss chuckled, letting it turn slightly pained as he shifted back in his chair. "Guilty as charged, songbird."

Sure enough, a red stain bloomed just to the left of the boss's chest as he pulled back the jacket. His hands moved to the buttons, gaze flicking up to check that it was alright. The boss huffed again, carefully cupping his elbow, and nodded. Tugging the fabric aside revealed a stitched wound that had burst, blood trickling slowly down his side.

"Would it ease your mind to know," he said softly as Logan shot him a look, "that I didn't do it carelessly? The fight was rough, songbird, what did you expect?"

"I have no authority to be angry at you, you know."

"Mm." He quirked a brow "That's a very different tune than the one I've heard you sing before."

He looked away at the mention of singing and set about cleaning the wound. As he did, he missed the way the boss's expression softened and he brought his hand to Logan's shoulder.

"I know it's only because we make you worry, lark," he said quietly, "don't fret."

"How can you tell me you know I worry and then in the same breath tell me not to?"

Another chuckle, slightly less pained, as he stitched up his wound and seals a bandage over it. "What was it they yelled to you to remind you to ask?"

"Nothing of importance."

"Lark." A playful warning, but a warning nonetheless.

"…to ask—well, to be informed that a request was made for a song in exchange for a less-sprained ankle in the morning."

The boss took his chin gently in hand and turned it to face him. "And you refused because…?"

"The crew needs to rest. The fight—"

"Is over," he broke in softly, "and no crew of mine would object to being sung to sleep tonight, especially those who are wounded even if their pride won't allow them to admit it."

"Mr. Sanders—" but a finger pressed itself carefully over his lips.

"Go on, little lark, fill your lungs and let us hear you. No one will mind, we all need the reminder that the worst is over."

Logan sighed, finishing with the boss's wound as he shook his head. "Why must you all insist on hearing me now? It's not as if you don't hear me every night, or none of you can carry a tune."

"There is a difference between being able to carry a tune and singing, lark." He spread his hands. "I'll even promise to lie down."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Logan planted his feet and refused to budge until the boss rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be helped to his bed, his pen tucked into the pot on his desk and his shoes removed. Only then did he graciously admit defeat, retreating back to the closet to put away the supplies and emerging once more to the club's main floor.

Tables, scattered, chairs in splinters. Bloodstains growing in the carpet, the last of the bodies only recently removed. The stage, somehow miraculously untouched, his microphone gleaming in a single shaft of light.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky streaked with pink, yellow, red, orange, clouds sparse over its visage. He stepped carefully onto the stage, looking across to meet Patton's eyes. He nodded encouragingly, setting aside the glass in his hands to lean on the bar itself. A slight whine emerged as the sound system engaged and the murmurs of the crew fell silent.

Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm sentimental, so I walk in the rain.

I've got some habits even I can't explain.

I go to the corner, I end up in Spain,

Why try to change me now?"

As he sang, the Lark's Nest grew quiet, still, and the neighborhood breathed a sigh of relief.

It was over.

For now.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[obae-me]

For the burb prompts(if they're still open), a fantasy au with merperson mc and harpy mammon would be super cute. Remember to stay hydrated! Love your work!

Dude, this is such a cute idea!!! I'm in love with it, thank you for the suggestion! Might be willing to return to this concept later. I'm obsessed now, thanks!

----

"It's dangerous getting too close to the surface," they'd been told. Over and over again, they were repeatedly warned about venturing too far upwards. "The sky hunters are up there."

The harpys. An unpredictable bunch. MC had only seen them from a distance, up far beyond the clouds, dancing together in the air. Twirling, chirping, so free. They always looked so graceful and happy. But ever since one member of the pod was gravely injured by one of them, no one had approached the surface for fear of another random attack.

It didn't matter if it was just one that gone rogue... most of the pod had mentally made the harpys their enemies.

MC didn't want that. It was disheartening. They knew most of them were friendly. They could simply tell from their movements. They shared storied in those dances, revealed the secrets of their soul. It was so...inspiring. Songs seemed to swell in MC's chest every time they watched them. So, it was inevitable that MC would go against the warnings, sneaking off and swimming towards the light of the sun of the surface. They were closer to the land than they ever had been before, close to a cliff, hidden behind a cluster of jutting rocks.

High above, they saw the harpys dance. Dipping, falling, spreading their wings, and letting their feathers shine in the sun. There was always one that seemed brighter than the others. White hair as stark as the purest pearl, wings large and covered in golden plumes. He was a soaring jewel of the heavens. MC secretly wished to touch them, those feathers, wondering how different they felt compared to scales.

The longing, the admiration, it forced a hum from MC's thoat. A shy sort of tune, one they couldn't help but wail out, one that matched the dancing. Either they weren't as quiet as they'd hoped to be, or the harpys had excellent hearing. The white-haired creature suddenly stopped, looking down before dipping behind a cloud. Gone. MC's song stopped, a little embarrassed, slightly disappointed, and perhaps a touch guilty. They'd interrupted his dance.

After a moment, they turned their head away from the sky, moving away from the rock and backing up in the water, ready to descend back into their realm. Only, the water beside them rippled, a bright yellow reflected in the ocean's surface.

MC shrieked a little, spinning to see that same harpy perched on the tip of one of the rocks behind them. Their body dove back under the waves, hearing a muffled "wait" cry out from above. MC stopped, glancing up. The harpy was staring down at them, a pleading sort of look in his eyes that was unobscured by the wrinkles in the water. The wings lowered, his legs crouched, as if he was trying to make himself shrink, seeming less like a threat.

Curious, MC allowed the very top of their head to peek out, their hair sticking to their forehead, everything from the nose down protected by the sea. The harpy smiled at this, tempted to inch forward, but keeping himself as still as he could muster. "Was that... singing you?" He asked, his voice chittering in a bit of awkwardness. All MC responded with was a silent nod. His body leaned forward, barely clinging onto the wet stone. "I've never seen a merfolk before. Only ever heard the songs from a distance..." As he tilted forward further, his claws lost their grip, a little yelp coming from him before he splashed into the water.

It took MC a little too long to realize that he couldn't exactly swim...

Scooping him up quickly, MC tugged with all their might, bringing him towards the closest shore. Their hands managed to brush over some of the soaked feathers. Soft... The harpy panted for breath, his wings soaked. It took him a moment to realize he was clinging to MC. Flustered, he crawled away onto solid ground, the water still lapping at his feet. With a brisk shake, a shower of droplets flung from his body, but it still seemed he was grounded for now. "T-Thanks, I guess," he grumbled a bit, clearly embarrassed. MC nodded, pushing themselves away from the sand, but once more, they were halted. "O-Oi! Hold on a moment... Listen..." Even though he demanded attention, it seemed he was struggling with his words. "I guess, if ya wanted to, I wouldn't hate it if you came and sang again." His eyes drifted away from MC's frame, like he couldn't quite stand to look at them right now. However, it was clear his attention continued to be drawn back to MC's glistening scales. "Name's Mammon, by the way, and ya better remember it."

[daddysfangirls-dc]

UnTamed CH25

Damian Wayne x Oc! Female

Prev | Next

"No, You've never mentioned a brother."

"There was no real blood," she spoke softly as a butterfly landed on her finger. " He died when I was 7."

"The boy that found you. I'm sorry to hear that. How did he come to be your brother?" Damian had never heard of Eren before then again she was very vague about her childhood.

"He said he found me under a dumpster. My mother was dead next to it. I don't remember. My memories of mother are hazy." the butterfly flew away finding a more appealing flower. She turned to see another butterfly on her teacup. " He was 12 when he found me. He took me and raised me the best he could, young and homeless. He shouldn't have but did." She watched as the butterfly drank her tea while softly batting its wings. It had colorful wings that the sun seemed to dance on. 

"He died right before his birthday. He would have turned 16." 

She had managed an actual gift that year. A camera, a bit broken yet still functional. It would have been enough for them.

"He encouraged my nudity. I'd rip, tear, and lose clothes. We couldn't afford new clothes, and we couldn't afford any. It didn't matter back then; I was always an animal, and we traveled by back alleys, roofs, and sewers. He didn't care about being naked. However, he did tell me to stay away from men-boys. Stay to myself was the only rule... I broke it." Damian looked at her, confused. " I'm here with you, aren't I?" 

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I don't think Eren would-" 

"I'm sorry that you're here. I'm sorry that you don't feel comfortable in your furs or in clothes. I'm sorry that I didn't notice any of this before now. I'm sorry, Eren, but I'm not here to take care of you or be proud of you. I'm sorry".

Asta didn't say anything just closed her eyes and curled into herself. Listening to the breeze, the birds had long stopped singing as the sky changed color as night slowly came. Silences.

-

In the sewers, it was dark. The only light coming from the grates above it was little to none. The water unclean a dark shady of green, more sluge than actual water. A long side of the sludge was a walking path. And on the path, a group of rats scurried a desperate scavenge for food upon them. Suddenly, one of the rats is snatched up by a boy, the others scattered for safety. 

"what are you doing?" he asked. The rat squeaked and squealed. "Oh, nice try, but I know it's you."

Suddenly, the rat is no longer a rat. Its fur is shredded for skin, and its body shifts to something bigger and more fleshy—a Girl. "How did you know it was me?" The girl asked.

He holds her hand now. " You act too smart for a normal rat." the girl scowls, but he just laughs as they walk along the path. " You, my mammal, are too smart." Mammals were land creatures, such as dogs, cats, monkeys, and even apes. He called her a mammal. It was supposed to be a reminder to keep her feet on the ground unless absolutely necessary. He didn't want her to leave him.

"What are we doing tonight?"

It was a loaded question. One question filled with many more. Would they be eating tonight? Would they be sleeping tonight? If so, where and for how long? If not, would they spend the night walking? If so where to? So many questions in so few words for such young children but they were all important. And needed answers.

"We are going to eat these subs I stole from the bodega. And then go bird watching."

Bird watching aka Batman & Robin stalking. It was also code for Rogue activity. Meaning there were too many Rogues out and about for them to find long term safety of any kind. Too much activity and too many unknowns to sleep into the night. So they'd stay awake for the night; they'd sleep in the safety of the daylights. In the dark, they'd follow the knight and his young squire. (At a distance.)

"Robin," she whispered as she watched the bird jump across the roofs, following the bat to whatever horrors of the night. To save the night. The people. And they follow in the safety of the knight and squire's shadow.

-

Eren died two years later at the tender age of 15. A victim of scarecrow experiments, he dies alone. He's put on a list of bodies to be identified after two weeks unidentified he's buried as John Doe. Asta doesn't find out until a week after his burial.

Asta is truly orphaned at the age of 7.

[darksiders-junkie]

Horsemen are feeling a little down, so I guess it's your job to cheer them up with a little song :))

Part 1 with War and Death

War's song: Rises the Moon - Liana Flores

Death's song: No Matter What - Steven Universe

War

You've been traveling with War long enough to understand when he was becoming down. You could never tell from his facial expressions.

It was the silence. The separation that gave the horsemen away. Now, he was always quiet and distant. It was his nature.

Looking at him now, though, sat by the lake he chose for a resting spot, far from the fire he kindled for you. You couldn't help the way your heart clenched. This wasn't like him. He'd sit close by. He'd grunt or nod when you talked. If you were lucky, you'd even get a glance, and if you were really lucky, a response. Usually, it is a question to quell his curiosity.

You wished you could do something for him. Something to lighten his burden. But you can't fight demons and angels. You can't trek the distances he can, and you most certainly can't wiggle information out of demons. They'd just laugh in your face.

Although.. your mother, when she had been alive, always had a way of cheering you up. And just maybe, it might cheer War up too.

So you steal your resolve, and stand. Slowly making your way over to War and sitting besides him. He gives you a small glance, before staring out at the water again.

It's silent for a moment before you open your mouth

"Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end

Sun digs its heels to taunt you

But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same

Rises the moon"

The confusion on his face is ever present, but he does nothing to stop you, so you take it as your sign to continue.

"Days fade into a watercolour blur

Memories swim and haunt you

But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke

Rises the moon"

It seems he took your words literal and turned to look at the little lake where the moon reflected off in the most beautiful way.

You couldn't help but give a little snort, which in turn gets you a glare from War. You shake it off quickly to continue the song for him.

"Oh-oh, close your weary eyes

I promise you that soon the autumn comes

To darken fading summer skies

Breathe, breathe, breathe"

It seems now he's understanding not to take you words to heart, and instead just quietly listening as you sing. Staring out at the rippling waters as he let's the words sink in.

"Days pull you down just like a sinking ship

Floating is getting harder

But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile

Rises the moon"

You can just hear the gears turning in his head. It seems he's catching onto the fact this is supposed to cheer him up.

"Days pull you up just like a daffodil

Uprooted from its garden

They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so

Rises the moon"

You take your chances and lean against him. A way of showing your support, of saying you're here. You might not be very useful towards his goal, but that doesn't mean you're useless. He seems hesitant but allows you to stay nonetheless.

"You'll be visited by sleep

I promise you that soon the autumn comes

To steal away each dream you keep

Breathe, breathe, breathe"

It's silent for a long while after you've finished. Not that you mind. You believe War got the message, and you're more than happy to stay here by his side and watch the quiet scenery before you.

"Why?" His voice is gruff, and he doesn't look at you.

"My mother used to sing me songs to cheer me up. I thought it might cheer you up too. Even just a little."

He let's out a little hum and it's quiet once more for a little while until he breaks it. "Do you know more songs?"

"Why? Want me to serenade you some more?~" You couldn't help but tease him lightly. Laughing loudly when he grunts and turns his head away from you.

"I'm kidding War, what would you like to hear?"

Death

You absolutely hated when he became grumpy. The sole reason? The quest you're on to help his brother.

Whether it be some being that annoyed him, or the fact it took him longer than he wanted to solve a puzzle, or anything small like that really.

He always became "salty", as much as he loathed when you called him that. It was true regardless, he became more sharp around the edges and in his tongue.

But today you were prepared! You were gonna sing him a song, and he was gonna sit there and enjoy it whether he wanted to or not! Because you weren't gonna travel with a salty Death until he decided to let whatever trivial problem that bugged him go!

The second he was finished setting up the camp area (which was really just the fire and some logs to sit on), you gently set Dust down with an apology when he squaked in complaint of losing you lap as a bed and headed for the horsemen.

He gave you a glare as you grinned up at him.

"What do you want girl?"

"In the light of the day

In the dark of the night

When you're raring to go

When you're tired from the fight

When you're losing your mind

Let me give you a thought

I'm gonna be right your side no matter what!"

You can see his eyes squint, likely our of confusion. "What are you-"

"In the dark of the night (in the dark of the night)

In the light of the day (in the light of the day)

When you're rising to shine (when you're rising to shine)

When you're hitting the hay (when you're hitting the hay)

I'll be hanging around (I'll be hanging around)

If you like it or not (if you like it or not)

I'm gonna be right by your side no matter what!"

You were really getting into it. Regardless of his continuous glare. Even starting to dance a little, even if you knew he'd never join you. This was to cheer him up. To take his mind off whatever got under his skin.

"No matter what (no matter what)

No matter what (no matter what)

No matter what (no matter what)

No matter what (no what)

Oh, I'm gonna be (oh, I'm gonna be)

Right by your side (right by your side)

I'm gonna be right by your side no matter what"

He gives a little sigh, letting the tension out of his shoulders. It seems he's given up, and is just going to let you finish. Not that he'd be able to stop you without physically restraining you.

"In the dark of the night

In the light of the day

When you're rising to shine

When you're hitting the hay

Just remember this song

How's it go? I forgot

I'm gonna be right by your side no matter what"

You giggle as you see him roll his eyes. Moving to grab his hand and spin yourself, not taking it personal when he reels his hand back the second you've finished. It's honestly an achievement he even let you finish your spin. And that makes you happy anyway.

"Through whoever you've been

Through whoever you'll be

Through whatever you lose

You will always have me

At the end of your road

I'll be holding you taut

I'm gonna be right by your side no matter what

Be right by your side, Be right by your side

Be right by your side no matter what"

You leaned into his side at the end, give a little laugh when he sides steps for some space. Grinning up at him regardless.

"And that was for what exactly?"

"To cheer you up and get your mind off whatever made you salty! Can you even remember what you were so upset about?" You can't stop grinning, eager to hear his response.

He gives you a little glare at the salty comment, patiently waiting for you to finish before he opens his mouth to speak. "You have a poor idea of what 'cheers me up', and yes I still remember. One awful song and dance won't make me forget. Don't be a fool girl."

"Oh? So you need to hear it again then?"

He seems to shiver slightly for just a moment. "Consider it forgotten."

You can't help but to cackle at his response. Immediately stopping when he pats your head and turns to leave. Surprised at the kind gesture and his next words.

"Thank you.. for trying anyway."

You roll your eyes. "Can I ever get some nice words or compliments without an insult tacked onto it?"

Death gives a chuckle "Maybe one day when you earn it."

"How rude!"

Posted: July 9th, 2023