#always important to mention that her name is Liberty

[ofpd]

i just learned that my irl friend who's into valvert fic and named liberty has never read/watched/listened to les mis??? most real person ever

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[thoughtsfromlayla]

My Dearest Defiance

Summary:  Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. Now your brother has been kidnapped and you can't do anything to help him.

Notes: ~7.5k words, This fic is a follow-up to this post sent in by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt, thank you so much for the idea! I took a few liberties with the plot and I hope that's okay with you!

Warnings: Platonic! Big Brother x little sister! Reader, *side eyes* a lot of angst, violence, physical abuse, heavy mentions of cancer, implied alcohol consumption, minor Dreaming mind-fuckery, death of Reader (you come back...ish), death of characters, comfort in the end :)

Masterlist

Mother Night and Father Time, the first lovers, the everlasting lovers. And it was through their love that the Endless were born. Your eldest brother Destiny came first, birthed in dark cloaks and the book that was named after him. He is in charge of the fate of every being to live. 

Every being who has lived must follow the path of this fate and fate always ends in Death, your eldest sister. When Mother and Father realized that the humans must do something while waiting for Death, they birthed your favorite brother, Dream. He is hope, the one who gives the humans courage to stand up for themselves and make do with their lives. Soon, humans wanted more and in succession, the rest of your siblings were born: Destruction, Desire, Despair, and sweet Delight soon to be Delierum. 

While every Endless was busy tending to their own realms and their own duties, you were born. Endless in name but not in power. You were the runt of the family, with no realm to call your own, and no responsibilities of your own. Yet here you stood amongst the humans that soon called you Defiance, the human spirit, the resilience to continue despite all odds. 

You’re sure your siblings knew of you, certainly enough to be invited to family dinner once every 100 years. Yet you could never shake the feeling of inadequacy when you were sat at the far end, only to be over-talked by everyone. They were discussing important matters, after all, nothing that you had to concern yourself with. 

You only find solace in Dream, where no matter how difficult the days get, you may always find a home in his realm. While he is adamant about letting you stay in the castle, you find it more comfortable to live in a cottage at the edge of the realm where the forest meets with the vast unknown and you grow vegetables from the soil you tow. It also allows you to escape to the waking world without Dream knowing.

You love humans, their lives fascinate you to no end. They know of you, just as they know of all of your Endless siblings, but sometimes it just takes a little more for them to realize. You would never push them to admit to your existence and somewhere along the millions of years of existence, you have given up trying to be the center of attention. 

To understand humans is to live like them, talk like them, and love like them. Unfortunately, humans are more than that and often succumb to feelings of anger, depression, righteousness, and violence. You try not to associate yourself with those emotions, but it’s innate. 

It’s been a few weeks since you stepped foot in Dream’s castle, and who could blame you? The village in which you reside is much more fun than the dreary castle your brother tends to enjoy more. The thick castle wall blocks out the sunlight, it’s filled with dust and smells of wet stones and old books. Not to mention, when Dream was busy, there was no one to talk to. Lucienne was always busy, picking up after her King, and you don’t even want to get started on Mervin. 

He’s only nice to you cause you gave him his pumpkin head when his original turnip head started going out of style. Otherwise, it’s cigar smoke being blown into your face and sassy remarks. 

You’re out in the market square when you feel the presence of your Endless Sibling. You turn from the flower vendor with a big smile and wave at Dream as he makes his way towards you. The dreams that he created step to the side in the presence of their sovereign.

“Brother!” You exclaim when he gets close enough for you, wrapping one of your arms around his while the woven basket hangs in the other. 

The basket was filled with a few apples and a fresh loaf of bread. You were just about to buy a few glass snowdrop flowers before you were pleasantly surprised by Dream. 

“How do you do this afternoon, dear sister?” He speaks, leaning into your face to tease you. 

You giggle at him as the two of you walk the main road, passing dreams and nightmares alike, a few waving at you in greeting that you return.

“I’m doing great. I was thinking of going to the waking world later today and spending some time with Death, actually.” You respond, your arm leaves Dream’s as a different vendor catches your eyes. They were selling acrylic paints in colors that you haven’t seen since half a century ago. 

“Here, hold this,” You say as you hand off your basket to Dream. He does as he’s told and holds the basket, the white paint offputting to his otherwise completely black outfit. 

You grab a few jars of paint and can already think of the wonderful things to draw when you get back into your cottage. There was a specific lake nearby that you haven’t been able to do justice to, but you think you finally can with the new color. 

A brief conversation of exchange happens between you and the vendor before you turn around. You burst out laughing at the sight before you. Dream stood in the middle of the road where you had first told him to hold your basket and hadn’t moved an inch. His shoulders were stiff and taught as he held your basket as far away from his body as possible. 

“It’s not going to bite you, you know!” You practically cackle at him. Your giggles follow you as you carefully place the jars of paint into your basket. You think that you will paint some flowers and ivy onto your basket later tonight. 

You go to take the basket back from him but he’s quick to move it away from your grabby hands. 

“You specified that I should hold it, so hold it I shall,” He says and holds the basket higher, just out of your reach, when you go to grab at it again. 

You huff at his rather stubborn behavior, but he’s been like this since the beginning. He always looks after you and takes care of you. You’re always grateful for it, but you can carry your own basket. You resolve the conversation with a roll of your eyes but the smile on your face stays in place when you turn your back to him. 

Dream walks you home, basket now significantly heavier and full of things you didn’t really need. Well, except maybe the paint, it’s good to splurge every once in a while. Your cottage is basked in a warm light as the Dreaming’s sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon to rise in another universe. The pie you had baked this morning had long since cooled and you brought it inside with a hum, your brother still following you. 

He set the basket on the simple kitchen table before taking a seat and watching you slice up the pie with a smile. You set the pastry down in front of him and another plate for yourself. The savory apple flavoring takes over the senses when you take the first delicious bite. 

“I would like you to come back to the castle soon,” Your brother says as you take another bite. 

“Whatever for?” You question, a little bit of apple filling falling out of your mouth. “The cottage is my home.”

Dream sighs but answers anyway. “I will be gone for a moment, I need to take care of a rouge nightmare,  and would like you to be cared for while I am away from the Dreaming.”

“How long will you be gone for you to want me to live in that dreadful place?” You make a face as you think about the boring days ahead of you. Well, maybe you can escape to the castle garden if Mervin isn’t paying attention. 

“I cannot tell you for I do not know.” 

You purse your lips as you think about his request. “Fine,” You groan. 

“Best not see Sister Death today.” When you don’t bother with a response he speaks against “Farwell, sister. I will be back soon,” He promises you before standing. You didn’t get the chance to follow him to the door before he leaves, his apple pie still untouched. 

“Ugh, how wasteful.” You joke to yourself. 

You spend the rest of your evening painting your basket as you had wanted before packing up a few items for the castle. Your basket was a gift from your brother and had an infinite amount of storage. So you managed to shove an extensive amount of your wardrobe, the paints, and some of the freshly baked pastries into the small wooden thing. You set off when the moon was high in the sky and the stars came down from their afternoon nap and danced in the village square. 

Their stardust shoes clink like pure jade against the cobblestone road, illuminating the otherwise quiet and sleeping town. A few wave  at you, shimmering particles following their movements before they return to their waltz. You wave back to them before continuing on your journey, mindful of where you stepped. 

When stars come down to the Dreaming they become transparent and more gaseous than solid but that doesn’t stop them from burning hot. And unless you wanted to recounter that one time you stepped through one and started sneezing and coughing stardust for the next 10 years, you’ll keep your distance - only allowing for their natural light to guide your way out of the village and towards the castle. 

By the time you reach the castle, Dream is nowhere to be found and you assume he went out to do what he mentioned earlier that day. Your room was set up for you,  Dream obviously had some palace staff tidy up the room as you took a look around the clean environment. Otherwise, everything was in the same place you had left it since the last time you were at the castle. You yawn as you set your basket down by the door. First a good night’s rest, then you can go to the waking world to do your own things. 

You sneak out of the castle a few minutes before dawn, the soft bed and good night’s rest giving you the energy you need to do so. You grimace when the door creaks loudly as you slowly open it, smelling the early morning dew on the grass and the warming dawn wind. 

“Where are you headed, my dear?” A voice stops you in your tracks. You suck your lips into your mouth as you soon recognize the voice. 

“Good morning, Lucienne,” You greet curtly, holding, or rather, hiding, your basket behind your black skirt. 

Lucienne gives you a pointed look. “Yes, good morning.” 

You give her a smile before stepping back out the door, only to be stopped when she purposefully clears her throat. 

“The question?” She presses.

You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes, not that it would work. “What question?”

“Lady Defiance, my Lord specifically states that I keep my eyes on you.” Lucienne holds her hands behind her back as she takes her stance. 

“By all means, keep your eyes - hey what’s that?!” You gawk as you point behind Lucienne. 

Lucienne snaps her head around to look at what you were so surprised by. She doesn’t see or sense anything when she does. It’s about two seconds of her searching before she realizes that she has been duped. When she turns around the door is swinging shut and you are nowhere to be seen. She slams the door open and only sees the last of your figure disappearing on the horizon.

You’re still giggling to yourself about pulling off that little trick when you reach the ocean of the Dreaming. The little wooden dock creaks under your weight as you skip across it. Having done this traveling before, you jump right in with a squeal, holding your nose close so you don’t get any water in. 

The water pushes and pulls but you don’t fight the current knowing that it will take you where you wanted to go. When you emerge, you cough once and the water falls off your body, leaving you dry in cloudy 1916 England. You wrap your blazer closer to your body as the wind picks up and leave the alleyway. The familiar smell of roasted peanuts from street vendors and car fumes tickles your nose when you turn the corner to walk into the hospital. 

“Hi, I’m here to visit Genny, uh, Geniveve, Geniveve Colemen,” You correct yourself to the receptionist. The woman nods and looks down at her computer. 

“She’s in the same room, 443. Here’s your visitor’s pass.” She hands you a laminated badge on a lanyard. 

You thank her before wearing the lanyard and going towards the nearest elevator. The elevator smelled of shoe polish and disinfectant spray and it made your nose crinkle. You just hope the smell doesn’t transfer onto your clothes. 

When you reach your destination, you knock on Genny’s door before entering. She wears her hospital gown and was reading a book when she looks up. A smile pasters onto her face when she sees you.

“Y/N!” She drops her book and sits up straighter. 

“Genny!” You exclaim back with the same amount of excitement. You place your basket by her bed before pulling out a fresh vase of flowers and setting it by her bedside table. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asks.

“Yeah, my mother took me to some private tutor to help me study for my tests,” You lie through your teeth as you fluff the flowers to make them look more appealing. 

You tuck your school skirt underneath you when you sit down next to Genny and reach for your basket again. “I brought you some homebaked goods. I know this hospital’s food has got to be horrendous.” 

You bring out the baked loaf of bread you bought the day before and rip off a slice for her. She takes the loaf and inhales the scent. 

“Gosh, Y/N, I don’t know how you make such good baked goods. Your husband will be a lucky one if you stop trying to chase them off.” She giggles and muffles through her full mouth. 

You laugh with her, sparing her the details of your actual life. You bring forth the lie you had carefully planted yourself as instead. A straight-A student that goes to the same school as Genny before she was diagnosed with cancer, how you were her best friend that visited her when you got the chance, how you had gotten onto the school council and despite all of her poking and prodding, she would not get to know what the school formal’s dance theme is going to be unless she went with you tomorrow to the dance. You try not to think about how frail she has gotten since the first time you’ve met her. Her collarbones were poking out and you can see how hard it was for her to take even breaths. 

When she asks you again later in the visit about the school dance you rebuttal quickly. 

“Are you going to come to the dance with me?” You laugh. “Speaking of which, I got you a dress, too!” You go back to your basket, pulling out a formal dress, and setting it in front of Genny. 

“Wow! Look at the bead stitching,” She says, running a delicate finger over the beading and gems then over the lacing. 

“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I?” You sit back down with a smile and a tilt of the head. “It matches my dress, too.”

“What about your own date?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have time for boys!” You giggle again, hiding behind the lie that you don’t actually go to her school. 

“Oh alright, I suppose I must go to the dance with you so you won’t be lonely.” Genny surrenders. 

You smile at her, happy she finally agreed. “You’re a great friend.” 

Genny coughs after your compliment and you’re quick to reach for the water and hand it over to her. When she sits up to drink you go to fluff her pillow. Genny lays back down with a sigh and all of the warmth that was in the room leaves through the window. She looks like she’s aged when she looks at you again, another cough crawling its way past her throat. 

“I’ll leave you to rest,” You say, turning around to grab your things. 

“No,” Genny refuses. “Can you stay for a little bit longer?” She coughs again and holds your hand weakly. “I want to feel like a normal girl for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” You whisper and sit back down, feeling the chill of the hospital around your ankles. 

You watch over her as she falls asleep, the conversation taking the last of her energy. You begin to stare off into space, thinking about your life. You did your best with the gift of immortality, but as you stare at Genny’s tense face, you wish you could do more. Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. 

Your thoughts leave you when you feel the beating of wings and a flush of wind from the door. Your head snaps and you see your sister standing there in her black tank top and the same combats boots you wore. 

“Sister Death,” You greet with a small smile, previous thoughts disappearing. “What brings you here today?” 

Your sister only smiles at you. Your excitement of seeing your sister again is soon taken over by dread. You look between your sister and your friend and the dots connect. 

“Oh... what? No!” You stand abruptly between your sister and Genny. “No! She still has so much to do in life!” You try to reason with her. 

“You cannot bargain with me, Defiance. You know that,” She says in her soft voice. 

“I don’t care,” Your lips form into a line. “At least let her go to the dance with me?” You try one more time. 

Death sighs with exaggeration. “Fine, but not an hour more.” 

“Thanks…” You’re not entirely sure how you managed to pull that off, unbeknownst to you that your sister has a soft spot for you much like Dream. 

Your sister looks you up and down before she leans on the door. “So how are you doing, then?” 

You look off to the side when you answer. “Fine,” You grumble out. 

She lets out a huff, or perhaps a laugh, you can’t really tell. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

It was a tempting offer, after all, you haven’t spent time with your sister in a while. You thought about it for a little while longer. “No,” You end up refusing. 

“Genny asked me to stay a little while longer, so I shall.” You turn away from your sister and sit back down in the uncomfortable hospital chair. You keep your head straight, looking after Genny, and don’t take your eyes off her even when you hear your sister departing. 

When she does, a tremble runs over your body. You feel tears prick at your lashline as you come to terms with the fact that your friend will be dying soon. You did your best to prevent the inevitable, but with no powers of your own, it’s only a waiting game now. 

You leave when visiting hours are over, Genny has yet to wake up from her nap. You leave the rest of the loaf on her bedside table, and a slice of your apple pie. You decide to tidy up the room as quietly as you can and hang her dress on the hook that was nailed to the wall. With one final look at her, you leave, only hoping that your sister doesn’t go back on her word and take her before her allotted time. 

You spend the rest of the evening in the waking world, catching up on new things the humans have done with their time. You end your day on a park bench, illuminated only by a single street lamp. The park was quiet, you’re only accompanied by the sound of crickets and the wind along the trees. You take in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how you have missed this. If only it was closer to summer vacation, you would’ve taken Genny to the beach and had some sun time with her. 

When you are done relaxing you go to the pond at the center of the park, the fountain in the middle still squirting out water and creating magnificent shapes and splashes along the surface. You could see the stars' reflection rippling as you peer at the lake over a bridge. The wind blows and you close your eyes to savor the moment. 

“I wouldn’t jump if that’s what you’re thinking,” Someone says next to you. 

You open your eyes and turn to see a man standing next to you, no older than 20. He takes off his hat when you speak. 

“I wasn’t, but thank you,” You reply simply and go back to looking out towards the expanding city. He doesn’t leave your side despite your answer and it gets a bit awkward.

“Are you thinking of jumping? Because I would also not recommend that, sir,” You turn to him again and see him laughing. 

“No,” He says. “I am just here to think.”

“Just like me then. What bothers your mortal mind?” You ask. 

“Many things… I’m afraid I have let my family down.” 

“How so?”

“We came here on a boat from the motherland, nothing to our name but a few pennies. I was supposed to go to college and finally put our family on the map. But I failed and now here I am, talking to a stranger on a bridge in the middle of the night.”

You laugh along with him. You knew of him and saw his dreams a few times when you went out exploring in the Dreaming. He wanted to be a doctor, specifically an athletic injuries doctor but failed out of medical school before he even got the chance. You rack your brain to think of his name, and when it comes to you, you speak. 

“Do not worry, Albert Brocken, I’m sure there are many opportunities that will come alight in the near horizon. Perhaps you should take the entrance exam again, and see where it takes you.” You yawn and you realize that you should probably start heading home. 

“Yeah… maybe I should,” He concludes with a sigh. “I think I might go into somnology,” He says more to himself than you. 

“Somnology sounds fascinating,” You agree. “I must go home now, but best of luck to you!” You walk away, your shoes barely audible on the stone bridge over the gushing fountain. Albert doesn’t look your way when you depart, too focused on his new goal in life. 

You find yourself standing before an old winding cottonwood tree in the same park. It’s been here for years, growing into the magnificent tree it is today. It’s passed by thousands of England residents almost every day, yet none of them are willing to stare at it hard enough to realize that the bark of the tree isn’t real. 

You take one last look around the park to make sure no one else sees you before walking straight into the tree, the danging leaves caressing you like a gentle mother’s touch. The trunk of the tree turns into a curtain of falling sand and you pass through with no problems. When you emerge on the other side, the bright moon of the Dreaming greets you, illuminating and basking you in a soft welcome. When you come back into the castle, Lucienne is on top of you like a hot iron. 

“Thank the Gods you are well,” She panics as she holds your arms. After taking a good overall look at you, she wraps her arms around your body and brings you into a hug. 

“Lucienne?” Your question muffled against her crisp uniform. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my dear, you hadn’t come back all day. I thought perhaps…” She trails off before she takes a breath. “Lord Morpheus hasn’t returned, and neither had you, so I presumed the worst.”

“Morpheus hasn’t returned?”

“No, but you are here. Tell me, did you see him while you were in the waking world today?” Lucienne holds hope in her eyes and you resent the next word you say.

“No,” Your thoughts trailed off. “Morpheus hasn’t returned?” You ask again.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about. I may just be overthinking is all.” Lucienne reassures you. 

“Okay…” You don’t completely believe her, somewhere deep inside you you can feel that Morpheus is in danger. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, a rouge nightmare shouldn’t be anything to be worried about. He should be home by now. 

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow, but thoughts consume you. After the dance tomorrow night with Genny, you will go searching for your brother. The following day came quickly and you paced back and forth in the castle hall, the formal dress you had on jingling with your movements. Your thoughts were in overdrive, there was Morpheus of course, but you also knew that tonight was going to be Genny’s last day. And knowing that puts a weight on your shoulders. You have to make sure that tonight is going to be the best night of her life. 

When the time came, you went to the waking world feeling dolled up and in an antique car with the roof down. Your hair had enough hairspray to survive a storm from Zeus himself. You pull up to the hospital in a screech, Genny already waiting for you in the lobby. You check your lipstick in the mirror one last time before Genny reaches your car. 

“You know how to drive?!” Genny says with a smile and excitement that you found contagious. 

You resecure the silk scarf that protected your hair from the wind and open a pair of sunglasses to put over your eyes. You look at her over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shining past the sunglasses before stepping on the gas pedal.

“I know how to do many things, sweet Genny!” You shout over the wind, pushing the glasses back to their original position. 

Each time you looked over at Genny, her smile still hadn’t faltered and the last bits of the sun’s rays caught on the embroidery of her dress. Her softness brings a smile to your face and for a moment you forget about your brother. 

You pull into the gravel driveway of the school formal’s destination. You had managed to weasel your way into the school council and they were able to get help from the local people. The theme for this year's dance was “A Magical Night” and a local citizen opened his manor to the students for the night. He called himself a mage, something that you rolled your eyes at as magic has been rare in this world since the faeries left it half a century ago. But you kept that to yourself, if he wanted to play make-believe, then so let him. 

Students were already lining up outside the decorated manor when the two of you arrived. You hand your keys off to a valet and walk towards the door, hand in hand with Genny. Her excitement buzzed through her like a shot of tequila. 

When you cross over the threshold of the manor you are genuinely surprised at the decorations of the place. The ballroom had been cleared out and a live band was playing music for students to dance to. There was a bar on the far end of the ballroom serving drinks and small snacks. A doorman takes your jacket away from you before you grab Genny’s hand and head to the dance floor. 

Many of Genny’s old friends soon recognize her and start to surround you two, the night is still young and the sound of laughter soon fills the air. You and Genny danced the night away until you both were sweaty and out of breath. Your make-up had gone a bit smudged but you didn’t mind. It was nearing midnight when most of the students started to leave and you pulled Genny away for one last surprise. 

Genny started to slow down a bit, the exercise of the dance sapping away her energy. She pulls through though and follows you to a winding staircase that leads to one of the roofs of the manor. The spring air chills you to your bone, but it is well received after the sweat you have built up. You help Genny sit down before you sit down next to her, the shingles of the roof poking through your dress in an uncomfortable way. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips when you look out to the vast countryside behind the manor. The stars twinkle as far as the eyes can see and from your advantage point, no trees are blocking the view either. Genny pants beside you as she calms herself down from the climb and leans her head against your shoulder. 

“I am so glad you made me come to this dance,” She whispers as she looks out to the stars. 

“Me too,” You agree, you begin the absentmindedly swing your legs back and forth. Your heels come loose and slip from your feet and both you and Genny laugh at it. 

“Gosh, I hope that didn’t hit anyone,” She continues to laugh as she cautiously peers over the side. 

“Or else they’d have to smell my stinky feet, ewww!” You continue her joke. 

Her laugh turns into a cough and your mood shifts to melancholy. 

A shift in the winds tells you that her time will soon be up. “Genny,” You start. “My sister is going to be here soon.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, I have a huge family actually.”

“Well, tell me about your sister,” She smiles, head feeling heavier as she puts her full weight on your shoulder. 

“She is really sweet, and a soft, kind-hearted soul. Just like you, I suppose.” You say. 

Genny doesn’t reply and tears prick your eyes. When you turn your head you see Genny standing up with a smile, yet her body still remains on your shoulder. Behind her stands your sister, a reassuring smile and a gentle hand rest around Genny in a side hug. 

“Your sister says that she’ll take great care of me,” She starts and looks at Death with a solemn smile. “Will she?” 

“Yeah, she’s one of the best…” Your voice dips into a murmur as you feel your lips tremble. 

Your answer is enough for her and she turns to leave. She seems to have remembered something as she turns back around and wraps her hands around your shoulders, her ghostly figure slightly falling through your physical form. 

“I’ll see you again, right?” Genny asks, hope lines her figure and you can’t bear to see it fade. 

“Yes,” You lie through your teeth. “Good-bye.” 

She turns to leave with your sister, blissfully unaware of your last farewell. The sound of Death’s beating wings was the last thing you heard before it was just the barren countryside again. Genny’s body grows cold by your side as you pet her hair for the last time. 

The manor staff came soon when you faked a scream and soon ambulances came and went with her body. You’re left in the aftermath of a romantic dream of confection and ribbons alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling numb. 

“Hey, lady, if you’re going to stand here moping you can at least help out,” A staff member calls out and you snap out of your thoughts. 

He hands you a few foldable chairs and tells you to put them up. You nodded along, not really having much else to do. You meander through the halls when you realize that he didn’t tell you where to put the chairs. It’s when you find yourself at a set of stairs that lead down towards the basement. And to you, it made all logical sense for humans to store their things in the basement. 

You open the heavy double doors and descend further into the musky basement. Candles were lit on the stairs and its melted wax coats the edges as it lightens the path. When you get to the bottom, you’re greeted by the host of the party that you met earlier in the night. 

“What are you doing here, girl!” He scolds. 

You hold up the chairs, unaware of his tone. “Hi, Mr. Burgess. I’m helping with clearing up after the dan…” Your final word trails off as your eyes wander past his figure. 

Behind him sits your brother and your jaw drops. Mr. Burgess tries to stand between you and him when he notices that your attention is no longer on him. Dream stands fully in his glass prison and you would have made fun of the fact that he was fully rocking out in his birthday suit if not for the situation at hand. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” You whisper, dropping the chairs.

You breeze past Mr. Burgess and stand before Morpheus. Golden runes that surround his prison stop you short as if there was some sort of invisible force field. Your head whips around and faces your host again. He stands tall as he stares back. 

“Why do you have my brother in a-a… fucking FISH BOWL!” Your words stumble out at the utter audacity of the situation, your hands moving around expressively. 

Realization dawns on him and you realize that you made a mistake. “So, you are one of his family. That man warned me about your kind. Which one are you.” He seethes as he walks towards you. 

“You face Defiance of the Endless,” You spit back at him.

You were in no mood to play, first, your friend dies in your arms and then you learn that Lucienne’s suspicions were right and that something did happen to your brother. This whole time he had been here under your feet while you were having fun. His clothes, tools, and dignity stripped from him as you drank enough sparkling cocktails to make Dionysus jealous. 

The man scoffs at you and spits at your feet. “Oh please, and I thought that it was going to be hard. I’ve heard of you, little girl. They told me that you are nothing, a nobody. You have no realm, no powers, you are barely a god.”

You stay silent as he speaks, rage flushes through your body and your muscles tremble. His words rang true, but here you shall stand for your brother. He advances on you and you find that you have nowhere to go. A sharp pain burns across your cheek as his pierced cane comes into contact with your skin. 

Your body follows the force as it throws you off balance. Your head cracks against the stone floor of the basement and a gasp leaves you. Your vision blurs from the hit and you feel warm blood sliding down your cheek like an unshed tear. In the distance of your mind, you hear Dream slamming his fist against his glass prison. You stand again, determined to not be bested by a mere mortal. 

His cane comes down again like a whip, hitting your shins and then once again on the back of your knees. The blow forces you to kneel before him, and your cries of pain echo in your head. The coarse floor scratches at your palm but you keep your breath as even as you can. 

“Is that all you got?” You sneer as you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

His foot comes towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut right before the impact follows. Your body tumbles further away from Dream, but his slamming continues. You feel the wall behind you, its surface cooling down your heating body. 

“Stop, I command you to stop!” Morpheus shouts, command muffled.

“Dream of the Endless commands you to stop,” You repeat your brother's words. You use the wall to brace yourself to stand on wobbling legs.

Iron fills your mouth and you spit it out back at Burgess’ feet, much like he did to you before. You grin when you see him grimace at the act. You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand, very unladylike, but between the three of you, who is going to judge? 

A backhanded slap snaps your head to the side and another painful scream follows. 

“Stop! Cease yourself or face my wrath!” Dream continues to scream as your vision blurs again. 

“No, I can take it,” Your voice is coarse but the message is heard loud and clear. 

“Oh, you can take it, hmm?” Burgess taunts and his cane jabs into your abdomen. 

You feel like you couldn’t breathe, that no matter how much your mouth gaped open, oxygen didn’t fill in your lungs as you needed it to. 

“I can take it,” You wheeze out again, another hit forces you back down and this time you don’t have the strength to get up again. 

“I suppose one step higher than capturing an Endless is to kill one,” Burgess laughs on top of you. His heavy body straddles you and you feel his hands wrap around your neck. 

Black dots swarm your vision like the expanding universe. Your nails claw at his hands, drawing blood, as your body tries its best to fight back. Burgess picks you up by the neck and slams your back down, stars waltz behind your eyelids and a brief vision of home comforts you. A ragged breath crawls through your throat before another slam into the ground silences you. Despite your efforts, your hands grow limp and you feel your body start to break down. It flakes away like spring cherry blossom petals as you take your last breath. 

“No!” Dream’s scream is the last thing you hear. 

Your consciousness fades to black and it is quiet for once. It’s odd to think that an immortal being can die, but it’s true. The only thing that differentiates it is that you could be reborn. Immortality is a fickle thing. 

When you come back into consciousness, you can feel the Dreaming heal your soul. It wraps its warmth around you like a soft blanket and you finally feel safe enough to stop everything that ran through your mind. When you stretch out your limbs you realize that you weren’t in your human form anymore. 

Your perception spans further and you can see new angles you haven’t seen before through your eyes. You wiggle your toes, or what you thought were your toes and feel soft and fertilizing soil below you. When you look down you notice that your legs have turned into the soft bark of a willow tree. Your arms shake and the reaching leaves of the tree shake from the action. You sigh and your bark groans and creeks under your deflation. 

You soon become a welcomed resident in Fiddler’s Green, providing shade for the decreasing amount of dreamers that come to visit you. As the years pass, the Dreaming starts to die around you as Morpheus stays entrapped under the Burgess Manor. You stay as a tree, unable to move and help. Guilt eats you alive, leaving your core to rot from the inside out. 

Lucienne comes to visit now and then, but as the castle starts to fall apart, she can’t find the time to come by anymore. Your days grow lonelier as Fiddler’s Green decides to leave the Dreaming as well. You stand on dry soil in a barren wasteland. Your inaction keeping you hostage like a ladybug in a spiderweb. The more you struggled, the harder you found it to keep your human consciousness. 

So, you did the most human you could think of: you cried. Fitting, you thought to yourself, a weeping willow, well, weeping. Your tears came to fruition in the form of vibrant yellow blossoming flowers against the beige and cracking surroundings. 

You stayed like that for the next 106 years. Your roots had grown so long that you could feel each corner of the dreaming, searching high and low for water to drink from. Soon, even that would run out. Another tear runs down your bark, your trunk growing deep grooves where the previous century of tears had carved. Despite all odds, your leaves were still vibrant and your flowers would change colors based on your mood. A trick that took you a few decades to learn. 

The moon rises higher and higher over the horizon. You follow its path, counting the fragments to keep your mind from boredom. It split in half 15 years after Dream’s capture and every five years or so, another fragment separates from the moon. You counted 18 fragments this time around, the same as the day before, and the week before that. You yawn, the bark shaking as you do so and close your eyes to rest.

You wake to a soft hand on your bark just as dawn cracks. Your leaves shake in surprise as someone touches you. It takes a moment to reorientate yourself and when you look down from your height your breath hitches. 

“Sister?” Dream calls out, his hand still on your bark. 

Relief floods your system just as a soft breeze runs its fingers through your thin leaves. Your catkin flowers caress his skin when he smiles at you. Just as fast as relief has found you, guilt consumes you again. Morpheus has escaped, it had taken him 106 years and all you have done is stand here and do nothing. Your branches groan again, more flowers blooming in its wake as you weep again, and the individual petals turn a deep blue color. 

Dream grabs one of your leaves gently as it tries to recede from his touch. “Y/N,” He calls out carefully. “I do not blame you for what happened 106 years ago.”

“I am touched by your sacrifice.” He pauses as he picks his next words carefully. “You were the only one who came to my side when I needed it.” 

You still stay quiet but your petals slowly start to return to their yellow colors. Morpheus takes this as a good sign and continues. 

“I love you, dear sister, I wish for you to never doubt that. If only I could give you a hug for all that you had done for me,” He prods and extends both of his hands outwards. 

You purse your non-existent lips in thought, a very tempting offer. Why not try one more time, to be by your brother’s side? Your bark groans again and you concentrate. You try to remember the details of your human body. How did your hair look? How did you hold yourself? Did you have a mole on this side of your face? 

Your leaves and branches start to shake and shrink in on themselves the more you think. You call in your roots and start to wiggle your toes. You think of your fingers and how they had done so much for you: the paintings you made, the pastries you baked. One last tear escapes down your raw skin and when you open your eyes again, you are looking at Dream through new eyes. 

Morpheus comes into your space and wraps his steadying arms around you. You sob into his jacket until it becomes uncomfortable. Your throat is raw when you’re finally reduced to hiccups. Through it all, Dream is holding onto you, gently caressing your hair the way you have liked since you were born. 

“I like this new hair of yours,” He comments as he pulls at a few strands of your hair. It’s longer this time around and kept the same emotional properties your flowers had. It changes from blue to green as your mood shifts. 

“Great, now I can’t hide my emotions anymore.” You mutter weakly to yourself as it changes to red at your slight annoyance. 

Dream chuckles above you and gives you one final tight squeeze. 

“Welcome home, sister,” He whispers. You take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs thoroughly. 

“Yes, I am home.” 

I did a surprising amount of research for this fic. Apparently, the first woman to attain a driver's license was like in 1900 so that's why Genny was so surprised you could drive. Also, I would not recommend driving in a 1916 vehicle? Looks like it could explode at any minute.

This was a request! And requests are open, just go to my page and hit that button to submit one.

If you do submit a request, it may take me a bit to get to them just because of the nature of it and my classes are starting to get ready for finals. (Your girl is graduating this semester woohoo!)

I will see you in the next fic!

♡ Yours, Layla

[sereisstuff]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

- a new family has arrived on the metkayina lands, facing grief, responsibility and her connection with Eywa. Renaia catches the attention of the eldest sully boy, is she ready for it.

This story contains - slight heartache, swearing, mentions of death. Slow burn but not really if you look closely.

Word count - 4K words I think or more.

Part 2

I’m making a part two to this but this was just how they met and a little background on the reader, I’ve also given you guys a name because the story feels more complete when the character has a name, but feel free to let me know if this doesn’t sound like neteyam. Might’ve indulged a bit I guess.

Anyways do enjoy x

Being reclusive was a prominent trait of yours, preferring the serene sounds of the water clashing against the sand while boaring a heavy oddity towards being around others.

You were an outcast to a lot of the village, always wandering off alone. Never really speaking because you never felt the need to, solitude was something you found importance in. In order to grow with your surroundings, to gain a deeper connection with eywa and your ancestors. You always felt different from the rest.

As a young girl your first feeling of grief that drew you into your reclusive personality, happened when you were around the age of 8, the only friend who truly saw you. Was killed, during the marine biologist's hunt for the tulkun. Weapons of mass destruction and large explosives were amplified and being used against your spirit brothers and sisters.

Manisa, a beautiful girl with a heart as mighty as eywas wrath, she was an unstoppable force but despite these traits she was kind, loyal to the metkayina. Loving and most importantly, my sister by fate.

In desperation to help the tulkun, her 12 year old self snuck off during dawn. Riding past the reef and further out to sea. She was fearless and in an attempt to save her very own spirit sister, she was shot. Left for dead at the bottom of the sea where my father, the olo’eyktan of our village. Found her lifeless body, her soul returning to eywa where her spirit would know peace.

Your chest tightened and your heart cracked when you were watching her body being cradled as she returned back to the our ancestors, sinking further and further into the ocean floor.

That night you climbed the highest tree you could find in a desperate attempt to get away from the memory of manisa. although your limbs were growing weaker, used to the tides rather than the vines of the forest behind the village. you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but determination.

Resting idly on a branch that stuck out more than the rest, giving you a clear view of the village miles beneath you and more liberty to gaze at the other islands.

You took in account every star in the dark blue sky that night, every ring around the planets surrounding your own. Standing on your two feet, steadily balancing yourself with a huff.

Then you saw it, the shooting star. It held a kaleidoscopic of flashing colours, the vibrancy bringing a comfort into your life, you felt the warmth in your heart grow as if Eywa was speaking to you herself. It was a sign of hope, to preservere and in spite of manisa being welcomed by the ancestors. She was still there, in spirit and around you.

You’ve grown since then, now at a peak in your adolescence. You’ve found a love for the children of the tribe, aiding the new mothers of the metkayina village or supporting them by caring for their infants.

Although you were young, you were experienced. Having been taught by your mother, the tsahik of the metkayina people to heal and to nurture.

In spite of your sister tsireya being the eldest, she found her passion in the water. Not paying much attention to the teachings of mother, it was heavily disapproved by your mother and father. You were always in tsireyas shadow, what she could do you couldn’t do as good, she was a treasure to your father. She was perfect in the eyes of the village, compassionate, beautiful and the next tsahik by right.

“What is wrong, Rini. Speak to me” I released tenderly towards the young child before me, her innocent eyes staring off into the distance. Her head turned my way making the small beaded braids on her head sway.

She shuffled to my side, not uttering a single word. Her small hands attempting to wrap around me, without a reply to my question Rini proceeded to tuck herself under my shoulder, She often did that when she didn’t feel the strength to speak. So out of pure feeling. I lifted my hand, patting her head in the process.

“Whatever it is, sweet child-“ you tapped lightly against the placement of her heart “this is all that matters, strong like the tulkun but soft like the ilu. Unlike me, my heart is feeble like the sand, that’s why I need you to keep me up don’t I” in an attempt to cheer her up, rini smiled up at you, her fangs slowly developing to full sized teeth.

“Because you are weak” she mumbled under her breath, I caught a glimpse of the smile peeking through her facade.

Your hand reached for your own heart, feigning surprise.

“Weak? Me? How dare you” you tapped her head a little, lips jutted down into a pout.

Rini giggled but stayed adamant “yes very weak like a baby” she mimicked the cries of an infant, falling onto her back.

“Like you then? You are a baby” you joked, standing on your two feet with a pointed look.

Rini shoot up from the ground, stamping her feet onto the ground “I’m a big girl, bigger than you”

A smile fought against my cheeks as you tapped your chin with a curiosity dawning in your eyes “well, a big girl can catch other big girls. If you are, catching me would be very easy for you”

Rini gained a mischievous look, her six year old build towering as high as it could, puffing her chest with pride “easy” she promised.

Next thing you know You're jogging through the village, Rini struggling behind you as she shouts incoherent promises that she’d catch you.

“This is no challenge” you teased making the younger girl huff, pushing her little legs as fast as they could go.

Just before you, Aonung, your brother had appeared alongside rotxo, running towards the beach in a hurry. You paused, watching them join a group of villagers piling by the entrance of the metkayina lands. Then you heard it, the putatara.

A warning call spreads throughout the village, halting both yours and the younger metkayina girl in your tracks. Rini looks at you with fear in her eyes. After all, she was a child. So you did what you usually do to comfort her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it ever so gently.

You were the tsahiks daughter and it was of great importance for you to be by your family in a moment like this.

As you drew closer, Rini closely stood behind you whilst strengthening her hold on your hand as a reminder she was still here. You managed to make out the figures standing ahead of you, you weren’t generously tall but you were lengthy enough to see the family that had just arrived.

Gently pushing through the crowd until you reached behind your mother and father, your mother was the first to notice your presence, choosing not to speak, just moving silently for you to stand near your siblings.

“Come here child” your mother called, whisking Rini away from you.

The tsahik shot you a look, a demanding one. To stand beside your brother and sister, you complied obidiently, except as you turned around to face the family. Head bowed in hopes to not garner too much attention. You felt a pair of eyes shift your way, almost burning holes into your skull.

“Where were you” you heard your brother aonung whisper in your ear, looking up at him you scowled “none of your business” Aonung squinted his eyes before he rolls them back.

“Don’t do that you’ll scare yourself seeing how small your brain is” you retorted, rotxo standing beside your brother sniffled a laugh.

“it looks like tsireyas not the only one who’s got those forest boys' attention '' Rotxo announced under his breath, moving the attention away from you, making both Aonung and I look at him with question.

You followed his gaze meeting a pair of chartreuse eyes staring right back at you, his little brother so it seems couldn’t take his eyes of tsireya.

But this one had his eyes on you, your own grew wider before you relaxed yourself again and drew back from noticing it. You were not going to falter in your path for a boy you’ve just met.

He seemed to be the eldest out of the pair, holding himself strongly beside his brother. He was wearing an ionar and it made sense with the ikran he had standing behind him and his family, he was an Ikrana maktoyü. You knew this as you’ve ventured far and wide on your own, often visiting different islands and people.

He was tall in height, braided hair falling against his back and the stance he had was one of protection. He was putting himself in front of what could possibly end up in a fight between clans, standing just a few inches ahead of his brother, he stood out from the rest. I knew from the look in his eyes he meant well, he also lifted the burden of responsibility placed on him at a young age. You knew because you had the same. He was moulded by knowledge and knew right from wrong by the looks of it.

“My children will teach yours the way of the metkayina people during your stay”

Oh shit.

Before you could step in to say something Aonung placed a hand infront of you, stopping you. You shoved his hand off of your chest, daring him to do it again, “mother will have your head if you embarrass her” he spoke slowly, this made me stop. One thing I hated was being the fuel to my mothers disappointment. Oftentimes I was and today I wasn’t feeling like starting the fire.

Neteyam watched as you struggled to accept the news, wanting to do anything but that. He felt a tug in his heart when he first laid eyes on you, seeing the way you brought the child with you, reassuring her with nothing but your eyes. The way you walked before your family with a mind of your own.

To say he was interested was an understatement.

“This here is Aonung, our oldest,” he pointed towards Aonung who was already glaring at the younger brother, neteyam seemed uneasy by it, his eyes slicing from me to Aonung with a fiery look.

“Tsireya, our daughter” your father pointed to tsireya, whom you were standing behind. Tsireya lifted her hand, waving gently with a bright smile. Your beautiful sister.

Then he moved the attention on to you “and this is Renaia”

You meet gazes with the eldest boy again, he examined you from head to toe. Engraving your entire self into his mind with a single glance, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

Lo’ak nudged his brother with a cheeky grin, gaining nothing but a slap at the back of the head by neteyam.

My father announced for the people and the family “Ronal and I will show you where you will stay while with us, Jake sully.”

And just like that, you walked towards your mother as the crowd dissipated. Latching on to Rini and lifting her away.

Ronal gave you a stern look “if any of these children are hurt, I expect you to take care of it. You know the ways better than your sister therefore you are responsible if any of these newcomers are injured”

Your mother isn’t always like this, she was a kind woman, compassionate and caring. Except being the tsahik came with its highs and lows, having a mother who was the tsahik was a different story. She loved you but she was very strict with her approach, in order for you to learn, she was hard on you. You had to remind yourself she was doing it out of love but oftentimes it was impossible.

Tsireya, Aonung and rotxo jumped into the water to start immediately with the new arrivals. Swimming in front of their Kelku (home) to wait for them to come out for their first lesson.

You, on the other hand, left the beach with rini. Returning her to her parents for the time being “did you see the little girl? Tell me you seen her. I wonder if she wants to be friends, do you think she wants to be friends with me??” Rini rambled continuously, finally taking a breath of pause. She gasped for air before rambling again.

Your ears flicked back and a smile dawned on your lips, stretching out your cheeks “I saw her alright, I just know she wants to be best friends with you.” I tapped my chin in thought again, something I often did with Rini.

“I’ll make you a deal” she perked up

“If you let me braid your hair, I’ll ask the little girl if she wants a new friend; by the name of Rini” Rini squealed, grabbing your forearm in her small hands. She loved when you braided her hair so this deal was nothing to her, she’d get the best of both worlds.

Before you could set the girl down by her kelku, you felt a heavy wave of anger wash over you “Renaia” your mothers voice echoed throughout the village, “you are meant to be helping your brother, what are you doing here with Rini”

You jutted your head in the direction of Rinis home, the small child latched onto your leg in an attempt to hug you, running off into the distance away from you two.

You stood strongly, knowing you weren’t here for any bad reason. “I was just making sure Rini got home safely, you know how clumsy she is mother.” Your heart was always a weakness, is what your brother often reminded you of. Your heart was too empathetic, too kind, too caring. It was too much.

Your mother sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder ��one day, your disobedience will get you in trouble. I tell you one thing and you go do the opposite, the quicker you start becoming aware the faster you’ll learn.” She lectured, you knew she meant well but she never failed to make you feel dumb.

You had a good reason too.

After being lectured for nearly an hour in front of some of the villagers, you had arrived at the edge of the beach. Diving into the water to meet your brother and sister, “Follow us, it’ll be fun” you heard tsireya say, you slid under the water. Making sure there was no splash. You dove as deep as you could before popping out and scaring Rotxo.

“Shit” you heard a huff of surprise, the youngest brother held a hand to his chest. Eyes wide as they landed on your soaked figure “how long were you down there for?” He asked, perplexed.

“Longer than you know”

The eldest of them both came out of the water, gasping for air. You giggled a little, finding entertainment in it, “Lo’ak, my name is Lo’ak and this is my brother-“ he was shortly cut off by the eldest “neteyam” he said, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Sorry about my skxawng brother, he’s very curious about things” neteyam said, voice laced with his own curiosity as his gaze settled on you “and you aren’t curious about things?” You questioned, still having distance between them and yourself. You stayed silent, waiting on his answer.

Neteyam didn’t know how to reply, for the first time in his life he couldn’t come up with some intelligent, well thought out excuse instead, he spoke before thinking “I’ve never been more curious than now” he exposed, you couldn’t tell what he meant, his tone and his gaze signifying something completely different. You confirmed by the look Lo’ak shot him, that same cheeky grin he had before.

“Oh yeah? We all know what you're curious about?” Lo’ak teased, he was too busy fluttering around like a child to notice the glare coming from Aonung.

“That’s enough forest boy, do you want to learn or do you want to drown? Your choice” Aonung threatened the pair, aiming mostly towards lo’ak, two more began swimming towards us and I took notice of them being the younger sisters.

“Neteyam, Lo’ak” the young girl yelled, her screeching voice alerting all of us. Neteyam, out of instinct. Swam towards tuk, placing her on his back so it would be easier for her in the water. Neteyam, couldn’t help but look at you. There was something to it, you didn’t just hold your beauty on the outside, you held it on the inside as well. He needed to know more.

The loving and warm gaze you shot Tuk was comforting to him and he didn’t understand why.

“This is Tuk, the baby of our family” neteyam introduced, gazing up at Tuk with adoration in his eyes. “Hi Tuk,” you all greeted, Aonung grumbled it under his breath, showcasing his displeasure.

Tsireya then spoke up “the first thing about the water, that you must learn is that breathing plays an important part, every living being breathes. We’ve seen how long you guys can hold your breath so now we must teach you how to do it, properly.” She then took a decent breath of her own, waving for them to join her moving forward under the water. Rotxo latched onto kiri, pulling her down under the water.

Lo’ak shrugged his shoulder, showcasing a piece sign motion. Or you assumed it was a piece sign.

“Your very pretty” Tuk spoke up earning a hiss from neteyam, your cheeks were starting to hurt with the amount of times you smiled, you were only really like this with the children of the village. Having a soft spot for them.

But the more neteyam spectated the interaction between you and his youngest sister, he too couldn’t help but smile.

“Not prettier than you Tuk, you are the prettiest girl here” you complimented, tuks lips thinned, trying her best not to smile. You looked down upon Neteyam before speaking.

“Follow me, I’ll show you where we're going” you kept it simple and short.

Quickly diving under the water, you began swimming. Glancing behind you in search of the two omaticaya villagers, yet the further you swam. The slower they got, huffing under the water before remembering your mothers words.

“They are your responsibility”

Despite that, the moment you turned around was not because of her words ringing through your ears, it was purely out of concern. Tuk was immersed in the water, neteyam learning quickly but you knew it would take a while to get to the rocks if this was how they swam.

neteyam already had his eyes locked on you, almost like he knew you needed to say something. You pointed to the surface, signing ‘we’ll take some air and I’ll lead you the rest of the way” Neteyam only shot you a confused look, you kept pointing for him to swim up.

He grabbed tuk, swimming to the surface.

He gasped for air again, his braids falling elegantly infront of his face before they were pushed away “what’s wrong” he asked, voice laced with worry.

“It’ll take us too long to get there if we continue swimming like this, I’ll take Tuk on my back and you can hold-“ you gently grabbed his hand, the softness of his palms escalated the beat of your heart.

“Here” he was quick to latch on to your shoulder, stammering in his response, his grip was secure. He couldn’t seem to look at you for long before gazing at the sky again.

Tuk wrapped her slender arms around your neck, diving once more into the open water.

You’ve always loved the sea, holding it dear to your heart. The water to you was like speaking to eywa, it was a connection. An entirely different aspect of the world around you and above you, when you swam you felt grounded, controlling your breathing was another form of connection to your people. It was the first thing many of you learnt as children, if you had control over your breathing, you could always find peace.

You swam further into the ocean, you were quick. Neteyam noted, very swift. It was almost as if you had been born from the water, you did it without effort, weaving through the floating seaweed and masses of rocks like that of a dolphin.

He couldn’t help but admire your skill.

Arriving at the rocks granted you space from the eldest brother, that entire time consisted of you holding back from slapping his hand away out of fear of what could be, you didn’t want to feed into your own delusions.

Your brother was right, your heart was weak.

“Just sit on those rocks over there” you muttered under your breath, wanting to escape the area. far from the visitors, “are you not staying?” neteyam asked, eyeing you with hope glimmering in his eyes. Or so you’d wished.

Tsireya perched in her spot, “she is staying,” she said, more so an order than a question.

Aonung shook his head, earning another laugh from rotxo who shot you a look of stupidity, reflecting his stupid self. You’ve known rotxo since you were children, he was always there. Always around, it was to the point you had even asked if aonung and rotxo were mates.

Rotxo fed into it, Aonung not so much.

“Renaia would rather swim with the fish and talk to the rocks” Rotxo joked, I lifted my hand out of the water and pointed it at him “Talking to you is like talking to a rock, only difference is the rocks smarter” Rotxo shot you a glare but that didn’t stop the others from laughing.

You lifted yourself from the water, flicking your hair back off of your shoulder. You had two thick braids circling your head, while the rest of your curls were left to silk down your back. A few loose strands hung from the crown of your head.

Neteyam was in awe, his mouth hanging as he tried to compose himself. Tuk giggled watching her elder brother panic under your presence, everyone noticed except you.

“Breathing is a life form, breathing gives you life and takes away that very same essence. You breathe from here,-“ she huffed in a breath, holding her chest with one arm “and here” moving the other to her stomach.

“In order to be one with the people you must learn how to control your breathing, it’s one of the most important parts of being metkayina. If you have control over your breathing, you have control over your life.” Rotxo finished.

All of them copied Rotxo and Tsireyas movements, Lo’ak whom was sitting by tsireya struggled to adjust to new knowledge. This made you curious as to how neteyam was adjusting, you could tell he was a quick learner but being the eldest he’d still carry past teachings with him, very dearly.

The rest were all too busy helping the others, glancing towards neteyam who sat cross legged on the rocks. Eyes closed, his eyebrow bone knotted together in frustration, you could immediately tell he didn’t know what he was doing.

You reached out to him, not uttering a single word as you placed your hand on his chest. His eyes shot open, wide and big in shock. His breathing rapidly escalated at the touch of your hand, you go to remove it but stop when his hand grasps your wrist.

“No it’s okay, I’m sorry for scaring you” Neteyam held a gentle look on his features, guiding your hand back to his chest “there’s only one way I’m gonna learn, go ahead” he consented, acknowledging you.

You pushed the emotion rising within you to the far back of your mind, you trained yourself how to not show emotion at a young age. This was a walk in the park.

Your smile faded, eyes rested, there was no sign of emotion in your face but the eyes speak for the soul and Neteyam was no fool.

“Breath in from here” you held his chest, tapping it with your middle finger, reaching your other hand over and placing it on his stomach “then you breathe out from here”

You breathed out from your own stomach, showing him how to do it. He mimicked you, not once breaking your gaze. His stare was strong, powerful. He was very relentless but you could see he didn’t mean evil.

I felt pulled to him, feeling no need to break the tension, I found myself wanting to drown in it. In his warm forest eyes, his gentle smile. But you barely knew the boy and you’d be damned if you’d gotten caught showing attraction for someone you’d just met a few hours ago.

After multiple attempts, you finally broke his gaze. Coughing slightly from the lack of air you took, although you were used to holding your breath, this somehow felt different.

“Good” you hummed, removing your skin from his. Then turning around to watch as Lo’ak fell prey to his feelings, he seemed to be the rebellious one. The way he held himself was awfully similar to the free spirited tulkun.

“Your heart rate is fast.” Tsireya teased, Lo’ak quickly glanced her way before lowering his gaze again “yeah sorry”

It seems like these boys apologise a lot.

After hours of teaching them how to breathe it was time to return, you had disappeared before the group could notice. It was a nightly ritual for you to go sit on that same branch and fall in love with the stars all over again.

You could see them from where you hid, choosing the spot just before the large bush of leaves to keep yourself hidden. Not even your own family knew of this place, thinking that you’d been out swimming every night since Manisa's death.

You had healed from that, as you looked upon the islands. Watching the water cascade with the tides, when they pulled back you’d imagine the hurt you’ve endured being pulled with it. Washing away your fears, your pung (hurt).

It was always beautiful sitting on top of the tree, weaving through the vines and gaining your balance rather easily now, you’ve endured so much but spoke so little of it. It was your responsibility to help, it was your job to uphold the honour of the olo’eyktan, everyday was a chore for you when all you wanted to do was be free spirited, one with eywa.

You could feel her presence in everything, you could hear her voice in the trees as they swayed. Eywa was always there, around you, above you and infront of you.

With your eyes closed, ears perked. You began listening to her, her heartbeat was mighty. Breathing in and out to the rhythm of the beat, it was a gift being so close to her, to the all mighty power of eywa. Your chest felt full, like her solace had been placed into your heart.

You’d rather be anything but who you were, Eywa has taught you that it’s not you who is deceitful it’s the people who convince you so.

The crunch of branches alerted you, you sat up quickly. Searching around for the intruder. You had a knife strapped to your thigh. It came in use during hunting, but this time it wasn’t going to be used for such a thing, before you could register the voice being used. You shot around, grabbing the intruder by their chest, pushing them into the tree swiftly with a knife against their throat.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” Neteyam choked, your breathing harsh against his as you dropped the knife onto the forest floor. Watching it drop further and further, “what are you doing up here?” You asked, more annoyed than shocked.

“My father told me and my idiot little brother that we can go exploring, I wanted to feel more at home so I came here” he truthfully spoke, “you could have died if I didn’t realise it was you”

Neteyams brow lifted in question “I don’t doubt your skill but I’m sure I would have been fine” he laughed. Of course, he was the son of olo’eyktan too, by the looks of it he’d already been trained in the ways.

You granted him no reply, sitting back down on the branch, remaining what you came here to do. The boy had no clue as to what that was, so he sat next to you, thigh touching yours. His shade creates a dark contrasting blue against your emerald skin. He was much taller than you, broader too. His shoulder rested by your head as you looked up at him for a slight second, then returned to your sullen features.

“Why do you come here, all alone?” Neteyam pointed out, so curious as to why you're always alone. Somehow this piqued his interest, your solitudious personality didn’t go unnoticed. He noted your disinterest in partaking in the activities with them but only when tuk was around did you finally enjoy being there.

You grumbled in response “because”

Neteyam shifted his gaze from your touching skin, to your blue eyes. He noticed how they had gold specs in them and a freckle, if he looked close enough it seemed as though the freckle was a second pupil.

The answer didn’t suffice “because?” He dragged on.

“I have my own reasons like you have yours, why do you put them before yourself? I see the way you step in when it comes to Lo’ak, the way tuk is like your child. Kiri is the same age as you, is she not? Yet you treat her too as if she’s a baby.” You rambled, feeling called out. You enjoyed your privacy, for once. You’d thought about sharing it with someone else, but for now you had to make it clear you were not easy and never will be.

Neteyam scoffed lightly, nodding his head as if you’d just analysed his entire life and been correct “it’s my responsibility”

You nodded in understanding, nudging him a bit to continue. Neteyam glanced your way, searching for safety in your eyes, he didn’t understand why he’d find it so important to do so but something in his heart told him too, and he always listened to his heart.

“Being the first born always means you sacrifice everything about yourself for them. They mess up? It’s on me for not teaching them to do better, they fall and hurt themselves. I should have been there to protect them, in some way they are my children but I’d never admit that to them. That’s just the burden of being born first, that’s how I’ve been raised”

You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, he was wise beyond his years. Being the first born meant so many things and one of them that held importance was responsibility, although in that sense Aonung would fail miserably.

After a few moments of silence, Neteyam mirrored your actions of enjoying the eclipse.

“You're a good brother” you released, your voice weak.

The forest boy snapped his head in your direction, you continued “Aonung would rather die than have to bare the burden of me or tsireya, he comes off protective but at the end of the day it’s me protecting him from his own stupidity.” You reached for his shoulder, anywhere else was off limits to you. Reassuringly patting it.

“That's an admirable trait, you’d make a great olo’eyktan one day.”

Neteyam couldn’t help but to take in the moment, staring into your eyes with a glimpse of confusion flickering in them as he searched around for the answer in yours. You couldn’t bear meeting his gaze, before he could open his mouth and utter the words he wanted to.

A voice from below called out to you both “Neteyam, mothers looking for you” Tuks high pitched voice called from below, how she found you two was a mystery. She noticed your presence, getting giddy already. You had nearly forgotten to ask her the question you’d promised rini.

“I guess being the oldest has its perks, you get your own watch team” humour was never really your forte and even you didn’t find the joke in that but Neteyam sniffled a laugh.

“Yeah, one step and tuk is threatening me that if I don’t take her she’ll tell everyone everything about me” this made you laugh, children were stubborn but tuk had a new level of stubbornness. Almost like she’d go to war for an adventure.

Before we could start climbing down, Neteyam grabbed a hold of my wrist again. A pleading look on his features “do you think I could come back with you tomorrow, same place, same time” he asked politely so as to not alarm me, his hold was soft and gentle. Like he was almost afraid he’d break my wrist if he held it with security.

I looked down towards tuk who held her thumbs up in a yes motion “your free to do whatever you want, Neteyam”

He couldn’t help but feel the pull dominate one side of his lips into a grin “so that’s a yes?”

“Yes, it is”

.......................

I tried proofreading but i'm lowkey blind so sorry for the little fuck ups guys.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 9: One More Time?

Theme Warning: Mention of Abortion

It was Saturday morning when Jey was jolted awake by his phone ringing insistently. Groggy and disoriented, he glanced at the screen to see Paul Levesque’s name flashing. With a resigned sigh, he answered, knowing this call was likely work-related.

“Hey, Jey. I need you for a wellness drug check,” Paul said, his tone professional but firm. “We’ve had two wrestlers test positive for drugs.”

Jey’s heart sank. The timing was terrible, but he knew better than to argue with Paul. “Which medical center do I need to go to in San Fran?”

There was a brief pause before Paul responded, “Actually, I need you to come to Portland.”

Jey frowned, rubbing his eyes. “Portland? I was hoping to see my regular doctor here in San Fran. Can’t it wait?”

Paul’s voice was unyielding. “The doctor in Portland is already set up and paid for. We need you there today.”

Jey’s frustration mounted. “I can’t just drop everything and fly to Portland on short notice. Why can’t it wait until Monday? I’ve got things lined up today.”

Paul’s tone hardened, leaving no room for negotiation. “Jey, this isn’t a request—it’s an order. The situation is critical, and the arrangements are made. We need you there today, and that’s final.”

Jey felt a surge of anger. “Portland is the last place I want to be right now. Is there something else going on that you’re not telling me? Why so urgent?”

Paul’s voice took on an authoritative edge. “I’m not at liberty to discuss all the details, but you need to trust that this is important. I’ve made it clear—Portland, today, no excuses. If you can’t make it, we’ll handle it differently.”

Jey’s jaw tightened, but he knew arguing further would be futile. Paul’s tone brooked no dissent, and he was well aware of the consequences of defying him. Reluctantly, he conceded, “Alright, I’ll go. What time do you need me there?”

“Head straight to the medical center when you get in. And Jey, don’t keep us waiting. This is a high-priority matter,” Paul instructed before hanging up.

As Jey lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a routine check. He quickly got up, starting to pack a small bag. Jey pulled out his phone and ordered an Uber, three minutes away … The thought of Portland, the city where his recent conflicts and unresolved feelings lay, added to his frustration. Why was Paul so insistent on Portland? What was the real reason behind the urgency? Jey tried to push these thoughts aside, knowing he had to approach the day with the professionalism expected of him. When Jey started tossing his clothes into his bag with unrestrained force, the noise roused Takecia from a restless sleep. Bleary-eyed, she stumbled into the master bedroom, her irritation evident.

“What’s going on?” Takecia demanded, her voice tinged with annoyance. “Why are you packing your stuff? You just got home.”

Jey, frustrated and still groggy, zipped his bag with more force than necessary. “Paul called me. I’ve got to go to Portland for some wellness check. Apparently, it’s urgent.”

Takecia’s eyes widened, her mood shifting from tiredness to frustration. “Portland? We had plans for today. Can’t it wait? You’ve barely been here.”

Jey slammed the bag shut, his irritation boiling over. “I don’t have a choice. Paul’s insistent, and I can’t just blow off a work directive. Why do you always have to question everything I do?”

Takecia folded her arms, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not questioning. I’m just asking why you’re leaving when we had plans. I was looking forward to spending the day together, maybe I don’t know .. have sex?????”

Jey’s anger flared. “Plans? Sex? This is work, Takecia. It’s not like I can just ignore it because you had a nice day planned. It’s not all about you.”

Takecia’s face flushed with indignation. “It’s not all about me? You know what? Maybe if you didn’t have your head so far up your own ass, you’d realize how much this affects me. I’m not some afterthought you can just shove aside whenever it’s convenient for you!”

Jey’s face hardened, his frustration evident. “Don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood for a fight. I’ve got to get going.”

“Good,” Takecia snapped back, her voice sharp. “Because I’m not going to waste my energy arguing with you. If you want to act like a selfish jerk, that’s on you. Just remember who’s here for you when you’re done playing the hero for your boss.”

Jey, feeling the weight of her words, grabbed his bag and headed for the door. He cast one last glance at Takecia, seeing the hurt and anger etched on her face. He knew she wasn’t one to be fucked with, but the mix of guilt and anger gnawed at him as he walked out of the house and into the Uber.

As he left, Jey’s mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. The urgency of the situation, the looming confrontation with Paul, the fight with Rhea, now the fallout with Takecia—all of it weighed heavily on him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the day ahead was going to be far from straightforward.

After this I need a fucking vacation..

—

Rhea’s Saturday morning unfolded quietly, with her lying awake in the hotel suite she shared with Damian. The remnants of a restless night clung to her as she noticed Damian still asleep, exhausted from his late return from Seattle.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Quickly pulling on some clothes, Rhea opened the door to find one of Paul’s assistants standing there, holding a folder.

“Mrs. Adams?” the assistant began. “I’ve been instructed to inform you that you have a meeting with a doctor today at 12 p.m. at Broadway Medical Clinic. Paul will also be present.”

Rhea’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why do I need to see a doctor?”

The assistant’s face remained neutral. “I don’t have the specifics, but it’s crucial. Paul insisted.”

Rhea’s unease grew. “Thank you.”

As the assistant left, Rhea shut the door and leaned against it, grappling with the sudden urgency of the situation. Her mind raced, struggling to understand the reason behind this unexpected appointment and Paul’s insistence. Rhea glanced at the clock in the living room, 10:22 AM.

Determined to handle the day with some semblance of control, Rhea prepared herself, her thoughts tangled between anxiety and anticipation. The weight of the appointment loomed large, hinting at a pivotal moment she wasn’t quite prepared for.

—

Rhea arrived at Broadway Medical Clinic, her mind still racing with questions. The limousine parked outside caught her attention as she approached. The window rolled down, revealing Paul’s familiar, reassuring smile.

“Rhea, good to see you,” Paul said warmly. “Please, come in. Let’s discuss this inside.”

Reluctantly, Rhea slid into the back of the limo, taking a seat across from Paul. She glanced around, feeling a surge of unease. “Why the secrecy? Why couldn’t we meet at the hotel or somewhere less… intimidating?”

Paul’s expression softened. “Rhea, I understand this must be overwhelming. I wanted to address a few important matters with you personally. First and foremost, I know about the affair with Jey Uso. It’s come to my attention that there’s a possibility you might be pregnant. To address this, we’ll need to perform a pregnancy test and a Non-Invasive Paternity Test to confirm any claims.”

Rhea’s heart sank. “You’re serious? I don’t want to do this. It’s personal.”

Paul’s tone remained calm, but his voice held a firmness. “I understand your reluctance, but it’s crucial for both your career and the company’s reputation. If you refuse to cooperate, I will have no choice but to suspend you for six months. Upon your return, you will be moved to SmackDown. It’s a significant adjustment, and I’d prefer to avoid that if possible.”

Rhea’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re threatening my career?”

Paul leaned forward slightly, his tone fatherly yet authoritative. “I’m not threatening you, Rhea. I’m trying to help you navigate a difficult situation. This is about ensuring clarity and fairness for everyone involved. I’m here to support you, but we need to address this issue head-on.”

Rhea sat back, her mind racing. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on her. She had hoped to avoid such scrutiny, but now, the reality of her choices and their consequences loomed larger than ever.

Paul had lied to Damian, it was his own way of keeping everything secretive, now if Rhea were to go and do anything, he would at least know.

Paul observed Rhea’s anxious demeanor, his expression softening further. “Rhea, I need you to understand something important,” he said gently. “This isn’t just about enforcing rules or punishing anyone. I genuinely care about you and your career. This situation is complex, and it’s crucial we handle it with transparency and integrity.”

Rhea looked at him, confusion and frustration battling within her. “But why should you even care about me in all this? Why make such a big deal out of it?”

Paul took a deep breath, his voice steady. “I’m trying to protect you, Rhea. The wrestling world is unforgiving, and any hint of scandal can follow you for years. By addressing this directly and honestly, we can avoid more significant issues down the line. I want to ensure that when you look back to work, your reputation and career remained intact and scandal free. This is about preserving your future and ensuring you have the best chance to still be Hall of Fame material.”

Rhea’s shoulders slumped slightly as she absorbed his words. Paul’s tone was sincere, and despite her fears, she could sense his genuine concern. “So, you’re really trying to help me?”

“Yes,” Paul affirmed. “I know this is difficult and uncomfortable, but I’m here to support you through it. We need to face this head-on, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way. Let’s get through this, and we can focus on your future. No one is here.. just the doctor and the tech and they have all signed NDA’s. Let’s go in.”

Rhea took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and resignation. Paul’s commitment to her well-being and career gave her a small measure of comfort, even as she faced the daunting tests ahead.

—

Rhea followed the assistant into the treatment room, her heart pounding. The room was sterile and clinical, a different setting compared to the luxury of the limo. She was handed a small cup and directed to the bathroom. Inside, she took a deep breath, peeing into the cup and placing it in the mini privacy box provided. Her mind raced as she returned to the treatment room.

After about ten minutes, Rhea was guided to another room where a technician waited with a sonogram machine. The technician greeted her kindly and prepared the equipment. Rhea lay down on the examination table, her anxiety mounting as the technician applied gel to her abdomen and began the scan. The screen flickered with images, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Meanwhile, Jey arrived at the medical center, still grappling with the sudden urgency of Paul’s request. He was greeted by one of Paul’s assistants and led to the waiting room. Paul soon joined him, his demeanor calm and professional.

“Jey,” Paul said, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. We’re conducting a routine wellness check. It includes a drug test and an oral swab. It’s standard procedure.”

Jey nodded, trying to mask his confusion and frustration. “Okay, but why Portland? I thought this could be done in San Francisco.”

Paul smiled reassuringly. “I understand your concern. We have a full facility here for these checks, and it’s easier to manage everything in one place. You’ll need to wait about 30 minutes in the treatment room for the results. It’s all part of keeping things thorough and transparent.”

Jey agreed reluctantly, still uncertain about the reasons behind the sudden move. He was led to the treatment room and left to wait. As he settled into the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than a routine drug test.

Back in the sonogram room, Rhea stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on the technician’s soothing voice explaining the process. Her mind was a swirl of worry and confusion about what the results might reveal and how they would affect her life moving forward.

After arriving in the treatment room, Jey was guided through the routine drug test procedures. He first provided a urine sample, then had blood drawn for further testing. The doctor, a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor, pulled out an oral swab test. Jey noticed a tube labeled with the marking “FAT” and furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Jey asked, his curiosity piqued.

The doctor, sensing Jey’s concern, offered a reassuring smile. “No, it’s just a label for our tracking system. It doesn’t have any bearing on you personally. Just open your mouth, and I’ll get the sample.”

Jey complied, opening his mouth as the doctor swabbed the inside of his cheek. He tried to shake off his unease and pulled out his phone, scrolling through messages and social media to pass the time.

Meanwhile, Rhea was in a similar situation. After finishing her sonogram, the technician performed an oral swab. Rhea watched as the technician pulled out a test tube marked with the label “ADA.” She raised an eyebrow and let out a small chuckle. “I guess that means I’m an Australian With A Disability ” she joked, trying to lighten the mood despite her apprehension.

The technician offered a polite smile as she completed the swab, taking a quick sample from the inside of Rhea’s cheek. “It’s just a standard label for our tracking system,” the technician explained.

As Jey waited for his test results, he glanced around the room, trying to ignore the growing discomfort in his stomach. He continued scrolling through his phone, but his mind kept drifting back to the uncertainties surrounding his current predicament. The ambiguity of the situation only heightened his sense of unease.

—

Paul sat in a quiet corner of the clinic, the documents from the doctor spread out before him. His fingers gripped the edges of the papers as he scanned the results, his face growing increasingly somber. The tests had confirmed what he dreaded: Joshua Fatu was indeed the father of Demi Adams’ 13-week-old fetus. The revelation was disheartening, as Paul had hoped the situation could be managed without exposing such personal and professional turmoil.

The doctor approached Paul, carrying a folder filled with additional information. “Given the nature of Rhea's career and the physical demands it involves,” the doctor began, his tone measured and professional, “there’s a significant risk of miscarriage if she continues with the pregnancy. We also have information on her options, including abortion services and the timeframes within which she can choose to terminate the pregnancy if she decides that’s the best course of action.”

Paul's mind raced as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. He considered the impact this news would have on Rhea’s career, her personal life, and the broader implications for WWE. He felt a deep sense of responsibility not only for Rhea's wellbeing but also for managing the fallout within the organization.

Paul took a deep breath, preparing himself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead. He needed to approach Rhea with sensitivity and support, ensuring she understood her options and the potential consequences of each. The weight of the decision ahead was immense, and Paul knew that navigating this situation with care and respect was crucial for everyone involved.

Paul’s mind manage to focus from the implications of the test results as he directed his assistants to handle the next steps with precision. He knew that managing the situation required utmost control and discretion.

“Make sure both Jey and Rhea are brought to the Ritz Carlton without encountering each other,” Paul instructed firmly. “Arrange for separate transportation for each of them. One of you should go to Rhea’s room and wait with her until her Uber arrives. The other will do the same for Jey. Ensure there are no crossings between them until they reach the conference room. It’s essential that we keep everything in order.”

Paul’s assistants nodded in understanding and set off to carry out his instructions. Paul’s reasoning was clear: by controlling the timing and logistics of their arrivals, he could maintain order and avoid any unnecessary confrontation or complications. The last thing he wanted was for Jey and Rhea to have a run-in before he had the chance to discuss their options and the future course of action with them separately.

Jey's frustration simmered as the assistant hovered around him, ensuring every detail of their ride was handled with meticulous care. "Can’t you just give me some space?" Jey snapped, glaring at the assistant who remained by his side, ready to accompany him in the Uber. The assistant offered a sympathetic but professional smile, clearly aware of Jey’s annoyance but remaining steadfast in their duty.

Meanwhile, Rhea's anxiety was palpable. As the assistant accompanied her to the Uber, she tried to steady her breathing, her fear evident. The ride felt interminable, each moment stretching as she worried about what awaited her. Her heart raced as she tried to focus on calming thoughts, but the assistant's presence offered little comfort.

Paul, fully aware of the need for discretion, made his own preparations. As soon as his assistants had left to escort Jey and Rhea, Paul had slipped into his limo, ensuring the ride was quiet and uninterrupted. He needed to arrive at the Ritz Carlton before his two guests and avoid drawing any attention. The strategy was clear: maintain control and minimize visibility.

Pulling into the hotel, Paul bypassed the main entrance, directing the driver to use the service entrance. With practiced efficiency, he made his way through the back corridors to the conference room. The space had been set up in advance, ready for the tense discussions that lay ahead. Paul carefully avoided any visible contact with hotel staff or other guests, ensuring that he remained an unseen player in the unfolding drama.

About fifteen minutes later, the first of his expected guests arrived. Rhea walked into the conference room, her expression a mix of apprehension and determination.

Rhea sat down as her body tensed with anticipation. The room’s sterile environment felt cold and unwelcoming, accentuated by its harsh lighting and minimalist décor. She stared at the empty chair opposite her, trying to steady her racing thoughts. The silence was almost unbearable, punctuated only by the occasional shuffle of papers or the hum of the air conditioning.

Paul, seated at the head of the table, remained silent and composed, his gaze fixed on the door as if anticipating someone's arrival. His quiet demeanor added to the weight of the situation, making Rhea’s anxiety even more palpable.

The door opened, and Jey stepped inside. His expression was a volatile mix of surprise, frustration, and concern. As soon as his eyes landed on Rhea, a deep silence fell over the room. The sight of her brought back a flood of emotions he had been trying to contain.

Jey hesitated momentarily, his gaze locked with Rhea’s. The weight of their shared past and the gravity of the current situation seemed to crush them both. He walked towards the empty chair and sat down with a deliberate, almost mechanical motion. The chair between them now felt like an impenetrable barrier.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Rhea’s thoughts churned with regret and uncertainty. She couldn’t escape the realization of how their once-passionate relationship had spiraled into secrecy and betrayal. As she looked at Jey, a pang of guilt and sorrow overwhelmed her. She wondered if they could ever mend what had been broken.

Jey’s mind was equally chaotic. His frustration was evident, but he struggled to keep it in check. He couldn’t understand why Paul had orchestrated this meeting or what was to come. The room felt claustrophobic, and he questioned whether there was any hope for resolution. As he glanced at Rhea, he saw his own pain mirrored in her eyes.

Paul remained silent, observing the scene with a stoic expression. His presence loomed large, a constant reminder of the power dynamics at play. He had orchestrated this meeting to ensure control and to make sure that everything proceeded as he deemed necessary.

The room was charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. As Jey and Rhea sat in their respective chairs, separated by a chasm of their own making, the difficult conversations that lay ahead felt almost insurmountable. Paul’s gaze shifted between them, his silence a deliberate tactic as he prepared to address the complexities of their situation.

Paul finally broke the silence, his voice firm. “Thank you both for coming. The tests you both did today confirm everything…. ”

Jey’s face drained of color. “There must be a mistake.”

Rhea’s frustration boiled over. “Jey, the tests are clear. I’m pregnant, and you can’t just ignore it. We have to confront this.”

Jey’s disbelief morphed into agitation. “I can’t handle this right now. It’s too much.”

Rhea’s voice grew sharp. “So now it’s too much for you? I’m the one who has to deal with this, and you’re acting like it’s an inconvenience for you!”

Jey’s anger flared. “It’s not just about me! This is overwhelming, and I don’t know how to process it.”

Rhea’s expression was one of pained determination. “You know what? Maybe I should just get an abortion. It’s clear you’re not ready to face this.”

Jey’s eyes widened. “You’re seriously talking about ending it?”

Rhea’s face was resolute. “What choice do I have? You’re not prepared to deal with this, and I’m left to handle it alone.”

Paul tried to interject, his voice steady. “Rhea, let’s focus on discussing all options and support rather than immediate decisions.”

But before Paul could say more, Jey’s voice cracked. “Rhea, wait. I know I’ve messed up, and I don’t know how to fix this, but… I… I do …” Jey struggled and Rhea freaked out, she knew what he was trying to say.

Rhea looked at Jey, her skepticism evident. “Do you really love me, Jey? Honestly it’s hard to believe after everything.”

Paul stepped in, his tone unexpectedly personal. “Jey, I am going to be honest, I once loved a woman named Joanie, Rhea you know who she is. Joanie was the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It was a profound connection, but then Stephanie came into my life. Ever since then I keep an open mind when it comes to affairs because Love is complex and can be overshadowed by circumstances. Understanding and effort is crucial.”

Rhea stood abruptly, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t deal with this right now. I need to be alone.”

Without waiting for a response, Rhea walked out of the room, leaving Jey and Paul behind.

Paul sighed and turned to Jey. “I understand this is a lot to process. I need an answer from both of you by Monday. I need to know how you plan to proceed, both for the sake of your personal lives and the future of your careers.”

Jey sat in stunned silence, trying to grasp the gravity of the situation. The weight of Paul’s ultimatum pressed down on him, as he faced the daunting task of finding a resolution to the turbulent situation.

Paul left the room, heading to his limo with the intent of keeping control over the next steps. The conference room remained heavy with unspoken tension, leaving Jey to finally decide to be a man do what he should have done in the first place. He made his way out of the conference room and headed up the elevator to familiar floor. He knew where to go…

Jey stood in front of the hotel suite door, tension rippling through his body. He knocked again, harder this time, and when Damian finally opened it, Jey's heart was already in his throat. Damian's face was impassive, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.

"Where is she?" Jey's voice was rough, on edge. He had no time for small talk, no patience for anything except seeing Rhea.

Damian tilted his head slightly, clearly weighing how much he wanted to say. "She’s not here."

Jey let out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Damian, don’t play with me right now, man. Where is she?”

Damian’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes—something protective, maybe even a little weary. “I don’t know. She just needed space.”

Jey’s chest tightened. He knew what that meant. Rhea had a way of disappearing when things got too heavy, when she needed to be alone with her thoughts. He remembered something she had said to him once in passing, during one of their many late-night conversations. “I'm always on a rooftop. It's like the best place to be when I need to be fully away from someone."

His mind locked onto that, his heart thudding against his ribcage. Without another word to Damian, he turned and strode down the hallway, his steps quick and determined. He knew exactly where she’d be.

The cold air hit Jey like a slap as he stepped onto the rooftop, the city skyline stretched out before him. There she was, just as he thought—standing near the edge, her arms wrapped around herself, staring into the distance like the world could somehow drown out everything that was happening between them.

His heart clenched as he approached her, each step slow and careful, like he was trying not to spook her. “Rhea,” he called softly, the wind carrying his voice toward her.

She didn’t turn, but her body stiffened, as if she’d been expecting him.

“I remember what you said,” Jey continued, his voice rough with emotion. “About always coming to the rooftop when you needed to get away from someone.”

Rhea exhaled, but still, she didn’t move. Jey could feel the tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. He was tired of it, tired of hiding, tired of pretending this thing between them wasn’t tearing them both apart.

“I went to the suite,” he said, his voice louder, more forceful. “Damian told me you needed space. But I’m done with space. I’m done running from this. From us.”

Finally, Rhea turned, her eyes wide with a mix of emotions—anger, confusion, maybe even fear. “Us?” she repeated, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “What the hell is us, Jey?” Her accent coming out more.

He took another step forward, his chest tight with the weight of everything he had been holding back. “It’s everything. It’s me and you. It’s real, Rhea.”

Rhea shook her head, taking a step back as if she couldn’t bear to hear what he was saying. “No. No, this isn’t real. This is a mess.”

Jey clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. “It’s real to me! I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t mean something.”

Rhea’s eyes flashed with anger, her voice rising. “What are you even saying, Jey? You’ve got a wife. You’ve got kids. You think you can just blow that up for—what? For some affair?”

Jey’s heart pounded, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I love my kids, Rhea. You know that. I love them more than anything. But I’m not in love with Takecia anymore. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Rhea flinched, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—that made sense in this chaos. “And what? You think this is love? Sneaking around, lying to everyone? Lying to ourselves?”

“Yes!” Jey shouted, his emotions crashing down like a wave. “Yes, I do. I love you, Rhea.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had stopped. But instead of softening, instead of those words pulling her closer, Rhea’s face hardened.

“No, you don’t,” she said, her voice cold, sharp. “You don’t love me. You just don’t want to lose me. And that’s not the same thing.”

Jey’s heart plummeted. “You don’t mean that,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, no strength left to fight.

Rhea looked away, her arms wrapped tighter around herself. “What are we even doing, Jey? You want me to blow up my life, your life, for this? You think you can just walk away from Takecia, from your kids, and everything will be fine? Do you remember Chyna?? I do! Hunter left her! He had an affair and he left her! She went on a downward spiral after Hunter left her! I don’t want to be responsible for Takecia going on a downward spiral..” Rhea said as she turned back to see Jey.

“I’ll leave her,” Jey said, his voice desperate. “If you leave Matt, I’ll leave her. We can start over. We can have a real chance.”

Rhea laughed, but it was a bitter, hollow sound. “You’re insane. You can’t just walk away from your family like that. This isn’t some fantasy, Jey. This is real life.”

Jey felt his frustration rise again, felt the need to make her understand. “I’m already walking away. I’ve been gone for a long time. You’re the only thing that makes sense to me anymore, Rhea. Don’t you see that?”

Rhea’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling. “You think this is love? This is chaos, Jey. This is destruction. And I’m not going to be the one to burn everything down.”

Jey reached for her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. “I can’t.”

“Rhea, please,” Jey’s voice cracked, his desperation evident. “Don’t do this. Don’t walk away.”

Rhea looked at him, her eyes filled with pain and anger. “I don’t have any other choice..”

As Rhea's hand closed around the rooftop door, Jey grabbed her wrist with a desperation that shook her to her core. Before she could react, before the protests could leave her lips, Jey spun her around with such force that her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes were wild, burning with a mix of fear, regret, and something else-something darker, something that terrified and thrilled her at the same time. He didn't wait for permission. His lips slammed into hers, hard and frantic, with a hunger that consumed every inch of her.

This wasn't a kiss. This was an explosion.

At first, Rhea resisted, her hands pushing weakly against his chest, trying to maintain the last thread of control she had left. But Jey didn't stop. His hands cupped her face, his fingers tangling roughly in her hair as he held her in place, refusing to let her go. His kiss was demanding, raw, a battle against the space between them, and for a moment, it was as if he was trying to erase all the pain, the betrayal, the uncertainty with the force of his lips alone.

The intensity of it left her gasping for air, but he wouldn't relent. He kissed her deeper, harder, as if this was the only way he could communicate everything he felt-everything he'd been holding back for months. And as the fire in her chest grew, the dam she'd been holding inside finally broke.

Rhea gave in.

Her resistance melted away, her body collapsing into his as her hands clawed at his shirt, pulling him closer. She kissed him back with everything she had, matching his intensity, pouring her anger, confusion, and desire into him. Every wall, every hesitation, shattered.

This was no longer about control. This was about release-about giving in to the one thing that made sense in the chaos of their lives.

Jey's hands slid down her back, gripping her waist with a fierceness that sent a shiver down her spine. He pulled her flush against him, leaving no space between their bodies. Their hearts pounded together, frantic, desperate, as if this was the last kiss they'd ever share. His lips devoured hers with such force it almost hurt, but she didn't care.

Rhea could feel every emotion, every unsaid word, every ounce of regret, passion, and longing in the way Jey kissed her. It was like he was trying to make her understand without words-trying to tell her that she was it for him.

That no matter how messy their lives had become, no matter how broken everything was, this kiss... this was real.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her body pressing impossibly closer as she surrendered completely. The rooftop, the skyline, everything around them disappeared. There was no Portland, no hotel suite, no Damian, no Takecia.

It was just them-Rhea and Jey, locked in a moment that felt like it could tear them both apart.

And maybe it would.

As the kiss deepened, Rhea felt everything inside her unravel. The pregnancy, the fights, the push, the lies—none of it mattered right now. All that mattered was the way Jey kissed her, the way his lips moved against hers like this was the only way to keep them alive.

She moaned softly into his mouth, her body trembling under his touch as he held her like he'd never let her go. His kiss was frantic, urgent, filled with a desperation that mirrored her own. Every emotion she had been burying for months came rushing to the surface, overwhelming her, drowning her in him.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, their foreheads rested against each other, their breath mingling in the cool night air. Rhea's chest heaved, her pulse racing as if her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

Jey's voice was rough, low, as he whispered, "I love my kids, Rhea. But I'm not in love with Takecia. I've never felt like this about anyone."

She stared at him, her lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss, her mind spinning. The words hung between them, heavy and impossible. She didn't know what to say-what to feel.

"'l will leave her," Jey continued, his hands still gripping her waist like he was afraid she'd slip away. "If you leave Matt, I'll leave her. We can do this... we can be together."

Rhea's heart twisted painfully in her chest. She wanted to believe him-God, she wanted to believe him so badly. But the weight of everything crushed down on her. Was this real?

Could they really make it work? Could they survive everything they'd done?

Her lips parted, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She looked into his eyes, searching for something-some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance. But all she saw was the same fear and desperation she felt.

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Jey... I don't know."

Jey's hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free. "I love you," he said, his voice fierce, unrelenting.

"I love you, Rhea. I don't care what it takes. I'll prove it. I'll leave her."

She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her heart breaking under the weight of his words.

But before she could respond, before she could even think, Jey pulled her in again, his lips crashing against hers with even more intensity than before. This kiss was different. It was a promise-a vow. He kissed her like it was the last chance he had to show her how much he meant it.

Rhea's mind screamed at her to stop, but her body didn't listen. She kissed him back, pouring everything into that one final, desperate kiss.

Because in that moment, they both knew-they were too far gone to turn back now.

[sapphicdealer]

“Do you have to go?”

Warnings: x gn!Reader, Fluff, Angst if you squint, Mutual pining, mention of Leon

✁Summary: You're important to her—so is her job, right?

She refers to herself as ‘Ada Wong’. That’s the name she tells you. She always kept to herself and never mentioned much about her personal life.

Her demeanour was cold—palpable even, she had the innate charm which left others intrigued, those never questioned her intentions, they’d turn a blind eye until it was late; Ada was ultimately a mercenary who would stay loyal to her employer until her own judgments found what was right.

When it came to you, her choice of words when she chose to speak were brief and cryptic. Each sentence leaves unwrapped layers and untold knaveries. Leaving your curious mind to yearn for more info, in fact yearning to learn more about her.

It seemed as if your encounters with her gradually became longer, she’d let you in on any intel which she thought was suitable for that moment in time. Among all the women you encountered, one held your attention. The one who never told you her name until you met her a few meetings later. Ada did warm up to you, filling in the missing information on her life to you, but it didn’t take long for her to take an interest in you. 

Ada never thought she’d gain an attraction to another person, with her line of work, alongside being mostly private, she always worried how long it would take before she was gone, or if you were to disappear altogether. So, Ada decided to take that risk.

Ada had an effect on you, an effect you’d be willing to give into. From her gaze to her touch making you feel weak in her presence. You felt a connection growing between you two, yet she didn't want to admit it at first, but you knew you were falling for her.

She’d speak to you about her missions. It was during these conversations that Ada would describe her missions, her previous relationships, and one man at the time, Leon. His name made you jealous, but with Ada's reassurance, you quickly realised the jealousy had been washed away. With that thought always lingering in your mind, she was willing to share any information on when they would meet.

Ada made it a point to spend every waking moment with you whenever one of her missions came to an end. She was practically hooked to you by the hip. There were countless times when she’d had her hands on you, whether it maybe her fingertips gliding over your face as if it were a canvas. Tracing the contours of your cheeks, jaw, and chin. Each touch left goosebumps, her fingers were warm, each caress sending shivers down your spine instantly awakening you. Ada savoured your warmth, she felt her own warmth blending with yours. 

Or when it came to your eyes meeting, it was another story. With those glances exchanged it shared a world of unspoken emotions. With a gentle sigh, she drew you in close and kissed you, as soon as her lips met yours; there was an undeniable magnet that pulled both of you and held you close. 

It was a journey of affection rather than a quick kiss. Ada's lips made a delicate, caressing touch as they touched yours. Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, stealing your breath away.

The taste of her lips were sweet but soft yet, they were intoxicating. The world around you both ceased to exist as you both savoured the moment. You were bound to have her lipstick stain your lips once she’s done.

Was it bad that Ada didn’t want to let go?

With all good things, those good things had to eventually end as Ada’s cell phone rang. She took the liberty of ignoring the first ring, but when it came to an end and resumed its sound cycle, that's when she finally drew away from your embrace, letting out a soft "sorry."

Ada walked out of the room, and you can hear a distinct discussion in the background as she converses with the person over the phone, You knew exactly how this was going to go. Ada had another mission to attend to. This meant she’d be gone for however long. But this was what you signed up for, getting into a relationship with a mercenary.

Moments pass and Ada returns, there she is, taking a place next to you, with a soft smile as she looks at you in your eyes, her expression was solemn. She settled down in that once-empty space and took your hand in hers, her fingers gently intertwining with yours, offering a reassuring squeeze. Sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of her fingertips tracing a delicate pattern over your knuckles. 

You already knew what she was about to say, the room seemingly starting to fill in what was unspoken. Ada couldn’t put it into words, so you spoke up “Another mission I presume?”

“Yes… as much as I don’t want to go. I have to make the client happy…” She sighed.

“Do you have to go?” A question you would say each time.

“It’ll only be a couple of days darling” Ada replied, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “You know… If you’d like, I can bring you back a little souvenir?”

You lightly chuckled, “Of course, I’d like a souvenir if you promise to be safe.”

“I’m always safe, but I promise I’ll be safe,” Ada reassures you, her voice carrying a hint of sincerity. She released her gentle grip on your hands and instead cupped your cheeks with her warm palms. Her touch is soothing, caressing your skin as she drew you closer.

Her lips met yours in a lingering kiss. For a couple of moments, time stood still for a while and Ada eventually pulled away looking at you and a playful chuckle escaped her lips, causing you to be confused.

“What’s so funny?” You ask Ada.

“You have a little something on your lips” She points out, making you stand up from your place to check in the mirror, to see Ada’s lipstick smeared across your lips.

“This is going to stain…”

Ada grins at your response. “Yes… but that colour does look good on you.” 

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Tagged by @gloryride, @gamerkitten, @chevvy-yates, and @aggravateddurian to share something I'm working on. Thanks, chooms! Still leaning into the ADHD, so there's several things I'm working on simultaneously. Most recently it's been...

Modding

The cutoff vests are 95% done, just need a few touches before I can make them live on Nexus, so what better time to start a new modding project? 🙃 A friend mentioned wanting Vik's pants and I'm always looking for more butch clothes for Val especially ones that ride low on those hips but also the belt & tools seem like a fun project.

Unedited. Not bad for an hour's work ☺️

Both the pants and belt are simple replacers to start while I test. I have some clipping to deal with on the pants, but so far the weights look okay. 🤞

As for the belt, I lost the tools somewhere between Blender and Wkit lol. I wanted to take a go at texturing them in Substance Painter so I split them off into their own submesh. Not sure where I lost them but I'm sure they'll turn up again.

Writing

It's fitting that Durian tag me because my latest writing was incited by a scene in his fic "The President's Lady" in which Myers invites Sol and V to lunch at the White House. I'm going for a more, uh, traditional take on The Tower ending than he is, using my fave angst, combined with some good ol' longing and probably some flashback smut. I've been canoodling on this in my notebook since Durian's chapter came out, writing a bit each night before falling asleep. I started transcribing it just for this post, so here are 315 of 338 words, hot off the Google Docs.

Some backstory: The second time I played Phantom Liberty I beelined to Dogtown, and skipped meeting the Aldecaldos and doing pretty much anything past finishing the VDBs quests. Vik was the only one who called, and she decided to take Sol up on his offer of a job at Langley. Soon after she's back in DC, she gets an invite to lunch from President Myers.

“Thank you, Madam President.” “V, please. No need to be so formal. I believe we’re well past that now.” “Heh, just a few weeks ago, told you—” “Yes, V,” she cries out, breath hot against her neck— Stopping, Rosalind turns to look at her, eyebrows and lines of her forehead drawing to a point, as if finally she recognizes V for who she still is. “I suppose that really was like yesterday for you.” The lines soften and she leads V to a sofa across the room, gesturing for her to sit first, then sits close and takes her hand. Long, graceful fingers teasing her skin— V stares down at her hand in Rosalind’s, her arms blank of cyberware still a disconcerting sight, but she doesn’t pull away. “How are you feeling? I can’t imagine the news was easy to hear.” “No, wasn’t,” she says with a shake of her head. “Thought I was gonna die a merc but now....” “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to tell you myself. Solomon suggested it would lead to too many questions among the staff. He’s right of course, but I still feel I let you down.” V frowns. “Ma’am?” “You weren’t my agent for long, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t important. What you did...” Rosalind trails off, eyes dipping to her mouth before she drops her gaze to their hands on her lap. Her nails are still perfectly polished, buffed to a shine. She looks up and says, “I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you did for me.” V down looks at their linked hands then, heart pounding, she leans forward to kiss her, as if she’s just any other woman, not the most powerful in the world, and Rosalind tilts her head and parts her lips and— She swallows and shakes her head. “You did, though. Least as far as I’m concerned.”

Tagging with the usual no pressure disclaimer: @medtech-mara @breezypunk @streetkid-named-desire @peaches-n-screem @rosapexa @luvwich @merge-conflict @steelscorner @ghostoffuturespast @byberbunk2069 and YOU!

Take this as an invitation to share something you're working on and tag me! Doesn't have to be Cyberpunk, or anything fandom-related!

[moltz23]

Random Three Houses & Hopes Trivia: How Edelgard & Dimitri's relationship is shockingly far more convoluted than you would think.

...And arguably how it's also kinda contrived, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

A few weeks ago, I had a realization about something surrounding Edelgard's past which lowkey explains her whole dynamic with Dimitri a ton better than the generally accepted theory that the experiments "those who slither in the dark" did to Edelgard affected her memory (not saying it isn't a factor, mind you). After sharing my thoughts with the Three Houses subreddit, people pointed I either got some facts wrong or was missing some key details, so I went back and did a more thorough research on the whole topic again. And once getting a full picture of the whole situation, I feel it was worth making this post.

To explain what I mean by claiming that Edelgard & Dimitri's relationship is shockingly complicated, we first need to go over everything both Three Houses and its Warriors spinoff tells us about their shared past and experiences:

1. Edelgard in the Goddess Tower scene says her first love was a noble from the kingdom a lifetime ago.

2. In the Blue Lions event "Childhood Memories", Dimitri says the following about his past with Edelgard:

Dimitri: We were born and raised in different territories, without ever knowing the other even existed. Yet, against all odds, for just over a year, we became childhood friends. [...] Unaware of each other's stations or backgrounds, we met and became incredibly close. This was when she and Lord Arundel were living in the Kingdom.

Incidentally, Dimitri also says this in his A-Support with Hapi:

Dimitri: As [Anselma/Patricia] was seeking asylum from the Empire in the Kingdom, Lord Arundel was obligated to hide the Imperial princess's whereabouts. She would undoubtedly have become a political pawn in the Kingdom as well. If her location had gone public, the Empire would have demanded her return. [...] I did not realize until much later that the girl I'd met under such strange circumstances was my stepsister.

3. In the AM event "Questions and Answers", Edelgard is noticeably shocked when Dimitri gives her the dagger back, which brings back the memories of when it was gifted to her. Besides realizing Dimitri was that kid, she also calls him once afterwards "My dear, forgotten friend...".

Oh, and Dimitri also calls her "El" a few times, which is important.

4. In Three Hopes, in one of Edelgard's Expedition lines, she recalls the following about how she got her dagger:

Edelgard: Have I told you about the boy who gave me the dagger? I called him "Dee," which is all I really remember about him.

5. In Edelgard's A-Support with Byleth, she mentions near the end how "there's no one left who calls me El..."

6. In Cindered Shadows, this exchange happens the second time you get to explore during the side-story:

Dimitri: Pardon the odd question, but something has been bothering me for a while now. Your hair...was it always that color?

Edelgard: That is an odd question. But yes, if you must know, it was a different color when I was a child. How could you know that? Is it possible that we met before the academy?

7. And finally, in Three Houses itself, not only any mentions of Edelgard calling Dimitri by name in flashbacks were removed with the last update in the English script, checking the OG Japanese one with Fedatamine.com reveals Edelgard never outright called Dimitri by name in those flashbacks, meaning the changes made to the EN script post-launch were likely done for consistency's sake (as in, the localization took some liberties with the Edelgard and Dimitri flashbacks, the devs likely noticed them, and ordered the translation team to remain faithful to the OG script).

In short, the "tl;dr" version of the whole Edelgard & Dimitri dynamic, in both Three Houses and Three Hopes, is that:

Dimitri recalls all of his past time with Edelgard back when they were kids. He remembers growing close enough to Edie to call her "El", but admits that neither Edelgard nor him knew who the other really was by then. Dimitri also states he eventually put two-and-two-together long after Edelgard had left the kingdom.

Edelgard meanwhile, remembers meeting a boy in the Kingdom whom she once had a crush on. She called him "Dee", recalls receiving her dagger from him and... That's pretty much it.

What exactly does this all mean then?

It means that, not only Edelgard does not remember her past with Dimitri the same way he does (jury's out as for why that's the case), her & Dimitri's recollections of events makes abundantly clear that, for most of Three Houses, Edelgard is 100% unaware that Dimitri and "Dee" (as in, the boy she befriended in the kingdom) are one and the same.

As always, many thanks to everyone who read this post! Looking back at it, I'm lowkey mad that I figured this out so damn late into the game's lifespan given all the evidence pointing it had been staring at my face all along.

But what do you all think about their whole dynamic? Does it make the whole tragedy of both sting deeper? Did it happen to confuse you even more somehow? Does it raise more questions than answers? Or does it feel needlessly complex?

[jyndor]

we as us american voters need to stop obfuscating about whether or not we think kamala harris will be materially different from joe biden on palestine. we must acknowledge that a vote for kamala is a vote for a genocidal administration, while of course a vote for trump is a vote for another genocidal administration - but one that is not actively committing genocide. whether or not a trump administration will hypothetically be more genocidal is important but needs to be contextualized by the very real and current genocide being committed by the biden administration. hypothetical or reality? that's what we must contend with, and what liberals and democrats are yelling at palestinian americans and their allies to ignore.

the dnc wouldn't even let a palestinian american speak - not even one of their choosing. not even a TOKEN. they do not care about palestinians, they won't even say their names. they and congolese people, sudanese people, haitian people etc barely even got a MENTION from most speakers. delegates and attendees stuck their fingers in their ears literally to keep from hearing the protesters. these people may even have sympathies - statistically speaking they do - but what do they do with their relative access? nothing.

don't get it twisted, I know in my gut that trump will not stop the genocide, and I know that he will commit genocidal mass deportation which absolutely IS genocidal. there are very legitimate reasons to not want trump to win if we care about genocide. obviously I do not want him to win which is why I have been begging the dems to appeal to the broad demographics of their own base of voters who do not support the genocide in gaza.

but I am tired of seeing americans act as if we have to vote for kamala to defend palestinian lives - for which there is no tangible evidence. go ahead, vote for kamala - I believe in strategic voting. but all my life I have seen democrats drag themselves right. I have no reason to believe that kamala harris will be any different, not just because I don't believe she wouldn't actually be able to be any different than obama or even biden, but because democratic voters have given me absolutely no reason to believe WE as a collective will behave any differently during a kamala harris presidency than we did during joe biden's or barack obama's, etc.

we will lie to ourselves and get defensive and punch left as always. we will feel safe to go to brunch and take our eyes off of the government because they're dressed in our team colors.

the truth is we value our civil liberties more than we value the lives of others. because voting alone isn't going to do much at all - but if we have ever shown any history of backing our votes up with direct action and mass mobilization, I would feel a lot more confident in our ability to push kamala left. I think she is susceptible to pressure. but I don't think that pressure is coming.

the problem is that we will not do that. and we will be back in 2009, and it's really maddening but I also do not see a good alternative because if I do not want to vote to enable genocide then that means trump too. we have to be ready to work within our communities to push back against deflection and obfuscation from liberals.

I am not an accelerationist, I think trump would be a grave disaster for the world. I also am not deluding myself about who kamala is. she will be president of the united states and that means she will be the most powerful person in the world. memeing about her girl bossing or whatever is distasteful when she is currently second in command of a genocidal administration.

there cannot be no honeymoon period if she wins. but there will be - and we will have to deal with OBVIOUS PSYOPS trying to sow discord between marginalized groups globally and domestically while our government continues committing genocide in multiple places in the world.

but also... just remember that none of us started out with the politics we have now. don't accept liberal nonsense but also don't engage with it if it's just online dunking shit. that's something I've learned over the past year or so. they're really scared and they should be. if you're in real life community with them, that's very different- but we have to learn to communicate better (this is what fd signifier talks about in a video recently).

[kingluffy5]

You do Howl’s Moving Castle, right?

Can you do a Prince Justin (turnip’s true human name) x reader fluff? In his human form of course.

Hell yeah my first request, let’s do this, I will take a few creative liberties with this and I hope you enjoy

Warning: mentions of bombing and war, I know this is a touchy subject for everyone now with Ukraine and Russia and Palestine and Israel so if you have any problems with it I don’t want to upset you, I respect the topics as much as I can but Howl’s Moving Castle is a story that tackles it directly, if it will trigger you please don’t read.

Prince Justin a.k.a. Turnip Head x Reader

Reader P.O.V.

I’ve been traveling with Howl for a while now but in just a few months everything changed so much, an old lady named Sophie came to start cleaning saying Calcifer hired her. Then a cursed scarecrow she named Turnip Head started showing up around the castle, he liked hanging around me. Howl’s hair changed back to it’s blue after Sophie messed with his potions and elixirs. Then the Witch of the waste, who is looking really bad all of a sudden, and Madame Solomon’s dog started living in the castle. Then we moved, despite looking still looking older Sophie started looking younger and younger.

The war was still going on and after moving us Howl started appearing less around.

That leads us to tonight, we were all inside, me, Sophie, Calcifer who was looking worse for the wear, the Witch of the Waste, Solomon’s dog Heen, and Markl. Turnip was with the actual castle out in the wastes and Howl was fighting in the war.

He never picked a side in the war, he hated both sides, I agree with him, there are good and bad people on both sides of every war yet somehow innocent people always get caught in the crossfire.

The reason why tonight was so important was that this was the night that everything changed, it started with the war being brought right to our doorstep, we are in the townhouse in the city right now and bombs are being dropped across the city. Howl has come back to defend the house and everyone, but he looks worse than ever, while fighting he transforms into a bird monster and the more he does it the harder it is for him to turn back.

When Solomon’s monsters started appearing outside Sophie switched us to the castle. Everything started getting destroyed and it was pure pandemonium, most of the castle was gone and Sophie gave her braid to Calcifer to give him some extra power. We were almost able to reach Howl when the Witch of the Waste realized that Calcifer had Howl’s heart. She grabbed the heart and in extension Calcifer and was ignited into flames, Sophie grabbed some water to put her out but doused Calcifer as well.

When that happened the castle started to fall apart eventually all that’s left is a single platform that’s running quickly down the mountain.

After that happens Sofie and Heen fall down one side when the plateform starts to brake of the cliff while the rest of us stay at the peak.

Y/N(Sobbing): Sophie … Cal

———————————————————

After what felt like hours of crying my eyes out alongside Markl I notice a shape flying towards us and I realize who it is.

Y/N: Guys it’s Howl and Sophie

Now what happens next is a little complicated so here is the simplified version, Cal is actually alive, Sophie puts him and the heart back inside of Howl, Howl comes back to life, Calcifer is free to do what he wants we nearly fall to our death when the plateform starts sliding very fans at down the hill, Turnip jumps in front to stop the platform but his pole snaps devasting me in the process as we have grown quite close despite his inability to speak. We land at the bottom Howl wakes up and Calcifer comes back, and Sophie, who is young again, and Howl kiss.

I am now holding Turnip in my lap.

Y/N: Turnip, thank you

I kiss his cheek as a good bye.

But all of a sudden he springs up and turns into a human. It turns out that he was the missing prince from the neighboring kingdom and that he was cursed and only a kiss from his true love could break it. That last part made me blush furiously.

Prince Justin/Turnip: I best be off now, it is time I put an end to this dumb war

Y/N: I agree your highness

Prince Justin/Turnip: And after that I will come back to be with you

Once again I blush.

———————————————————

We had settled into a quiet and happy little life. We all lived in a flying castle in the sky. Howl and Sophie were at the front overlooking the city below, The witch of the waste was sitting in her chair, Cal was keeping the castle running, Markl and Heen were playing in the yard.

Meanwhile me and Prince Justin sit in the back as we pass the clouds and sit and enjoy life.

Prince Justin: You know if we get married you can become royalty

Y/N(Laughing): Royalty? Of what turnips?

Prince Justin: We could have our own castle someday, one that flies too

Y/N: That sounds nice, just the two of us, starting our own family, as much as I love this one we really should start on our own soon

Prince Justin: Yeah but not for a little while

Y/N: Yeah in a little bit

The End

[inspiteallthedanger]

Any moments in get back that you think Peter Jackson took some creative liberties on? As someone who’s knowledge about this era of the Beatles is limited, I wanna know if there’s some storytelling in Get Back that’s exaggerated lol

Hi there anon and a good question.

There has been extensive debate around this - and I've made at least four posts focusing on exactly that (see below).

But, the short answer is: I don't think Pete has done much that substantively changes the meaning of most of the content. There are some places where it's clear that he's putting his own meaning over things, like where he's put Isn't It a Pity over where George has left etc. But, overall, I think he's done an amazing job. I don't want to take away from the sheer scale of the work he did and the amazing accomplishment of it. All my recent posts have shown how much I love the doc and I don't think it's done much but show how brilliant they are. I love it and I think he should get all the praise (and awards) for it.

But, that's not actually what you asked. So, there are four (somewhat) exceptions to the above:

The "then there were two scene" - what actually sets Paul off isn't that (in fact they all laugh about it). It's MLH asking would John come back (and leave Yoko) if Paul just asked. Paul says he “Can’t be bothered with all that” then does that sort of head shake and wells up. I can see why Pete doesn't think this changes it all that much? But to me it does.

The "Must we do this in public, Mr Lennon" scene. This is actually in response to John and Yoko starting to bitch about Apple not promoting Two Virgins well enough. Paul doesn't appear to give a shit about the drugs talk. He's also saying that 'in character' as a journalist. But, that said, both he and John are both being a bit pissy, despite the fact they've mostly been joking around before that topic.

George's comment after Paul plays Get Back that "musically, you know, it's great"... that's not what he's talking about. He's talking about another album by another group. Which does make sense, because I remember thinking that was a bit uncharistically nice of George, lol

The hug at the end of ep one... They're actually crowding around a camera and taking the piss out of MLH. That said... I don't think the meaning has changed? I think they are comforting each other, but they do that in the way they've always bonded: being Mean Girls and excluding people that aren't in their group. But. Still. I think he's playing fast and loose.

Other than that... Pete changes a lot of the dialogue. Again, not in meaning. But most of the conversations have been snipped, moved around and taken from different parts of the day, or for example he gives John's joke a new punchline. He also is very rarely showing them playing the songs that we're hearing. Does this matter? Certainly to some people it matters a great deal. To me, less so, because other than the above the meaning is the same. It’s just he takes out the waffle. But it’s really heavily edited. Also small thing: J&P aren’t alone in the lunchroom tapes. Why he says that I have no idea - Ringo, Linda and Yoko are all there. I think this is important to note because... that might explain why they’re not being totally frank with one another. 

I have to add this, but I can’t understand what (if anything) it means. Apparently Pete replaced George with someone else (Tony Richmond) in a very short scene - he digitally inserts someone over him, I mean. I'm taking Doug Sulpy's word for this, but it sounds so bonkers I side-eye it because there's no reason for Pete to do that. But, there's no reason for Doug to lie either. It changes exactly zero about the scene. But it is a weird, so I wanted to mention it. 

This also doesn't take into account what he's left out: namely Yoko. By all accounts Yoko does do and say a lot more than is implied by the doc. She makes a lot more effort to distract John and she does offer John advice on the music. We can hear her on an outtake of Oh! Darling interrupting to say her divorce has just come through, for example. Which... maybe it had, but I dunno. Seems like she also might have just wanted to stop J&P telling each other they'd die if the other left. But... who knows. I can see 1000000% why Pete did this in the current climate (not bringing down a fresh wave of hate on a very elderly, sick woman). But also, from an historical documentation context, it's probably not the right call.

I've got four more posts on this here, here, here and here (that last one you'll want to read all the replies on to get a good sense of the discussion). In case you can’t get enough of this. 

Anyway. There you go. Overall, I think Pete did a brilliant job but a close reading e.g. people's body language and exact responses to each other probably isn't a good idea. Unless you've always watched the tapes, a read all the transcripts, that is. 

Let me know if you have questions or comments or anything else everyone though!

[soup-for-ghosts]

Roland or Frederica for the ask meme?

I shall do both to the best of my abilities!!!

Frederica:

First impression

she seemed nice! big fan of mages. also she’s pretty :]] not a fan of arranged marriages though

Impression now

I LOVE HER SO MUCH. SHE IS MY WORLD. morality route was my first and MAN was it an experience. she’s just… such a good character… it’s difficult to put all my thoughts about her together, but I just love her so much… everything with her family history and the roselle….

Favorite moment

her route for taking back whiteholm is my favorite of those three so far (I still gotta play benedict’s but I don’t think he can beat the battle on the bridge and the stuff with roland, cordelia, and avlora on the boat), and her reluctance to fight her family vs her anger at how cruel and unfair they were to her her whole life is just… an interesting struggle. and how she eventually resolves to do whatever she must, even if that means killing her own flesh and blood… ultimately she’s opposed to killing anyone, no matter who they are or why, and I like how, despite everything, she tries so hard to be kind.

Idea for a story

again don’t have much for this one ach… I did write this though, but it’s mostly serenoa focused. she’s there though

Unpopular opinion

hard to know what classifies as an unpopular opinion with such a small fandom…

Favorite relationship

her and serenoa for sure, but her and roland is also one I like.

I could write an essay on serefrede but I think the game does that well enough for me pf- it’s called “morality route” /j

as for her and roland, I just like their friendship. again you can totally tell morality was my first route but they’re just… really nice friends I think. terrified to play the utility route.

difficult for me to describe my thoughts on them right now, it’s been a while since I last played the game and I haven’t finished liberty and utility routes

Favorite headcanon

not sure on this one, number one for all tristrat characters is drawing them with scars though

Roland:

First impression

his introduction was very silly and I was immediately so fascinated by him and what his deal could be….

Impression now

screaming indefinitely 👍

chapter 5 was when I REALLY started getting into the game, and at every twist and turn I always felt so bad for roland… one of my favorite lines in the game is “though victorious, roland sobs quietly, saddened by the losses made in his name” (quoted to the best of my memory).. it’s such a good line… liberty route’s gonna kill me I think

Favorite moment

his confrontation with gustadolph in the golden route for sure. it felt like his character arc had really been building up to that moment, and he realizes how revenge just feels like an empty concept now. it isn’t about revenge anymore, and he proves that by trying to reason with gustadolph, albeit that fails… but he tried. it’s just so… gah… so good…

another, smaller thing, is the many instances in which he tries to pass his kingship to serenoa, most notably at the end of golden route. he tried several times in different instances… it’s so… man. again, so not ready for liberty route.

Idea for a story

I got nothing sorry

Unpopular opinion

see above - -‘

Favorite relationship

him and serenoa!! the brothers of all time and they don’t even know it… their friendship is so important to me. serenoa’s one of the few people roland really jokes with, and he returns the jests as well… the choice before the tournament is a really good indicator of their dynamic I think… serenoa always trying his best to reassure and comfort roland… even after everything… they care a lot about each other and it’s very clear… the golden route reveal is so… augh… again! I reiterate for the third time! terrified for liberty route!

him and cordelia are also really good… and the previously mentioned him and frederica

Favorite headcanon

see above-

[redrobemerle]

hey what if i made an ffvii au based around a very niche musical i enjoy. woe dolls of ffvii be upon ye

the narrator : the Planet itself (tells the story, also tries to warn people about the consequences of their actions but cannot be heard by the rest of the cast) the gambler and the monk : JENOVA and a cetra (maybe ifalna, maybe just a random one. its not like theyre mentioned by name anyway) jasper : grimoire valentine (this is mainly bc annabel had to be lucrecia) annabel : lucrecia (she canonically sort of brought vincent back from the dead. sort of. she probably wouldve brought grimoire back if she could have. its also lowkey implied that she may have had a crush on grimoire?)

((now heres where the roles go off the rails in regards to what their original relationships were))

edgar : hojo fay : vincent (THATS RIGHT BAY BEE IF JASPER IS GRIMOIRE VINCENT HAS TO BE FAY. whos the guy vincent leaves hojo for when he realizes Oh This Guys Fucked Up Actually? probably cid or reeve. i dont really ship vincent with anyone so like. as long as its not one of the Kids. anyway also thinks about how grimoires last words in canon are "tell vincent im sorry". thinks about "i took the liberty of bringing your dear old dad back. you can talk to him again! but only if you come back and marry me". thinks) byron : sephiroth (let sephiroth be an anarchist lmao) amelia : angeal ("amelia"s shitty dad is hollander obvs) priscilla : aerith (the obvious choice, but also im always thinking about the similarities between aerith and vincent (vincents similarities with cloud are far more obvious, but listen to me. aerith and vincent have their parallels too). priscilla reminding jasper of fay (aerith reminding grimoire of vincent)) soldier 7285 : theres so many people it could be but im leaning towards zack or cloud? everyone else gets to be voodoopunks

BUT TUMBLR USER REDROBEMERLE NONE OF US IN THE FF7 FANDOM HAVE ANY CLUE WHAT DOLLS OF NEW ALBION IS! YOU ADMITTED IT'S NICHE AS HELL!

fear not, for i have typed up a summary of the musical under the cut! if you read the summary and get upset about the way ive fucked with the relationships from the game for the sake of this au, please refer to this post <3

CONTENT WARNINGS: offstage but explicitly mentioned suicide, also very brief but explicitly mentioned parental abuse, immolation mentions (sort of), execution by a militaristic police state (near the end)

The Dolls of New Albion: a Steampunk Opera is a folk opera by Paul Shapera

the opera is split up into four acts, each following a generation of a single family. each act has a narrator telling you about the world as time passes. while not all of it is directly relevant to the story at hand, it tells you something interesting about the world. however, there is a recurring motif of a gambler and a monk who played a never-ending card game. this is important later. the city of new albion was built around them by the people who came to watch them play. but more importantly, in the Now, annabel(/annabelle/annabella. the script cant decide how its spelled) mcalistair is raising up the dead

okay so basically. annabel had a big ol crush on a guy in school. they had never talked until one day they talked and kissed and they became friends for a little bit. but then annabel was expelled for stealing cadavers for her own research. and she became a shut-in and he got married then died young. and she's figured out how to call his soul down into a doll she has built!

the doll is very lifelike but cant really move and cannot talk but he can play the radio! isnt he great? look at annabels doll everyone! she can go anywhere now bc hes proof that shes brilliant! shes conquered life and death! but not everything you love loves you in return. and when she realizes that he cannot, will not ever love her back or speak to her, he doesnt want to be back, she destroys the doll. and throws all of her notes in an old trunk in the attic.

and so passes the first generation.

the narrator informs us that annabel gets married and has a son named edgar at some point. edgar grows up and falls in love, as people often do, with a woman named fay, and on the night he was planning to propose to her, she tells him that while she loves him and she really tried to make the relationship work, hes got Issues and so she leaves him for another man.

in his anger, when edgar goes through the old trunk in the attic and finds annabels notes on necromancy, he makes a business out of it! he summons back the souls of the dead for anyone who asks and pays, and when his business becomes successful enough he uses the money and influence he has to run the business of fays new partner into the ground.

he goes and finds fay and is like. "look. i have a very successful business. the man that you say you love is ruined and poor and I know you cant live like that. and whats more than that, you know your dead dad who you loved so dearly? yeah i brought him back for you, but the only way you can talk to him is if you come back and get married to me. :)" and fay does but shes also like "what the fuck. i actually loved you once why did you end up like this this is why i left you in the first place" also the person whose soul edgar brought back is jasper, the same man annabel brought back originally.

and so passes the second generation.

edgar and fay have a son named byron. now, byron becomes a voodoopunk. voodoopunk is one part religious movement, one part political party, one part punk subculture. yes i know voodoo is a closed practice i dont know that the person who wrote this does and yeah.

so basically his whole plan is to run jasper for mayor? and theres this girl named amelia whos also running with the voodoopunks. it is unclear how old she is, but she is referred to as "a girl" rather than "a woman", so it is likely she's either a teenager or a young adult.

but jasper has figured something out. jasper has figured out how to string together songs on the radio to finally speak for himself. and byron is like "here listen to our doll give you a speech and prove that the dead can run this country better than any of the vultures that are politicians in any part of the political spectrum!"

and jasper sings.

and he sings about how he did not want to be brought back. death was peaceful and he did not want to be here.

and amelia heard this. and she had no friends. and she lived only with her father who was abusive (presumably both verbally and physically? it is never elaborated upon but we do know its at least verbal.)

and she kills herself with only the words of the song jasper sang as her note.

at which point theres public outcry bc ALL the dolls have been singing this song. in the publics eyes, the dolls killed amelia. and so people start rounding up the dolls -- who there are more of than living people in new albion by now -- and burning them alive (for a given definition of alive? its really more of releasing their souls again but really violently) byron manages to "save" jasper though.

and so ends the third generation.

we revisit the card game. the gambler died of a heart attack during the final hand, and cursed with his dying breath that the game was not yet finished, promising the two would come back to finish it one day.

and so begins the fourth generation.

New Albion has become a military police state, killing anyone with any sort of memorabilia of the dead. we see priscilla, byrons daughter, hiding in a basement and playing a never-ending game of cards with jasper. (YEP THATS RIGHT ITS KINDA IMPLIED THAT JASPER AND PRISCILLA ARE THE REINCARNATIONS OF THE MONK AND THE GAMBLER, and even if theyre not, theyre still the ones continuing the game they started).

we also see soldier 7285 join the police.

priscilla loves her great grandfather jasper dearly -- and he loves her back. she reminds him of fay, when fay was younger and more innocent, and jasper lets slip during their card game that he still wants to die but he is willing to stay because he wants priscilla to live even more. because if theyre found, they both die.

priscilla is like what the fuck thats not? fair??? why should you have to sacrifice your death for my life??? and she thinks about it. and decides that a life of hiding isnt much of a life at all.

and she calls the cops on herself.

a firing squad happens, despite jasper doing all he can to prevent it because her life for his death isnt fair to her, either.

but soldier 7285 doesnt fire.

he is court martialled and stripped of his duties/rank for it. soldier 7285 thinks about how priscilla loved jasper so much she was willing to die if it meant his freedom, and goes. hey what the fuck sort of country do i serve that thinks caring about the people we loved past their deaths is punishable by death??? im going to tear this country down and rebuild it on the graves of the people who decided this, and if i die in the process, at least i can be a martyr and inspire people to finish what i started the way she inspired me.

and thats the dolls of new albion!

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :) 

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“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow. 

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss. 

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering. 

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared. 

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature. 

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world. 

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band. 

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now. 

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again. 

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat. 

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her. 

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give. 

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued. 

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her. 

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on. 

But oh, how much she wanted it to. 

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. 

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly. 

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all? 

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more. 

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered. 

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right. 

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her. 

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone. 

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

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Part III

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[beautysenshi]

❛ okay , maybe it's not , but they've both important and challenging displays of athleticism ! ❜ and though mona hadn't thought of herself as much of an athlete since her high school days , she couldn't help being impressed by all forms of sportsmanship . being riley's roommate only made her appreciate sports even more , probably because of how passionate they were towards hockey . mona had a soft spot for passionate people , friends or not . when asked about jimmy's name , which she'd taken all liberty in choosing , the blonde smiled proudly . ❛ yes he does , as a cowplant should ! he's one of us now , aren't you jimmy ? ❜ giggling , she watched as the cowplant happily chewed on the crust riley had fed him . mona sort of wished artemis was as easy to please as their new roommate .

❛ it's a date then ! oh , by the way , what are you doing for valentines day ? ❜ excitement brought a particular gleam to the senshi's eyes , as was the case whenever love ( or a celebration of it ) was mentioned . ❛ i haven't made any plans myself but that won't stop me from having fun ! speaking of fun ... ❜ pausing , she glanced at jimmy , then at riley again . ❛ have you always been able to do this stuff ? ❜ she did feel sort of dumb for not noticing it sooner , but that wasn't riley's fault .

❛ that is just ... not true, ❜ riley laughed, brows furrowing together, but she didn't feel the need to get into a whole argument with the other about it. technicalities aside, riley supposed they both were sports that involved skating on knives and doing dangerous things so, maybe they were more similar that riley gave them credit for. beginning to munch on the crust now, riley resisted the urge to shove the entire thing in their mouth, as if trying to stop themselves from defending their claim any further when there was really no point to get all up in arms about a hockey versus figure skating debate.

riley shrugged their shoulders once asked why it stressed them out — pretty much everything stressed them out, nowadays. it was weird, even when she was home and under the strict control of her parents, with dreams and nightmares projecting themselves into her daily life without her having any say in it— the stress seemed easier to cope with. looking up at jimmy, speaking of dream projections, riley smirked; ❛ oh, so he has a name now ?? ❜ riley inquired, tossing the remainder of her crust in the beast's direction, watching as it caught it between large jowls that no longer seemed as scary as they once had. ❛ i'm down to go skating, though. i'll never say no to the ice rink.❜

[iricathel]

"Irina, welcome home."

A slightly more cheerful voice than his usual harsh tone resounded from the dining room of their luxurious abode as Ruki greeted his wife after a long and honest day of work. Truth be told, the Vampire had informed her that he would visit his brothers that evening to catch up on important events in his absence to maintain an element of surprise for this grand occasion; therefore, the fact he prepared a whole dinner. as well as other resplendently wrapped gifts, was intended to astonish Irina the moment she stepped foot indoors. The familiar scent of her favorite dishes permeated the air, leaving an ambrosial flavor behind from one whiff. Upon entrance, the tempest-eyed Mukami encroached from behind, arms securely coiled around her waist in an almost protective embrace as he presented in front of her a bouquet of intricately detailed dahlias, each sporting colors of the sunset from their soft rose sheens to the most vivid of yellows. Spiraling in flawless symmetry, petals immaculately rounded, the Vampire grew these for her in secret. Internally, he thanked his brother with a green thumb for imparting timeless advice onto him.

"Happy Birthday, Irina. Here—these are for you. I know you adore these kinds of flowers, so I took the liberty of tending to them myself for once even if botany isn't normally my cup of tea. It's funny, really… I had no idea they were fragrance-free. Although, I do prefer it this way," he leaned forth to plant a surprise kiss on the side of her nape, "since I favor your natural scent above all else."

The thin sensation of a golden chain draped around her neck soon replaced the chill from his lips, ending in a heart-shaped pendant donning sapphires and emeralds alike that shone in effulgent blue and green sparkles from all angles under the vespertine light.

"Marking you with my fangs so everyone will know you're mine never ceases to amuse me, yet… Somehow, it's also pleasant to gift you things like this as well. It's proof that you belong to me forever and always."

Finally releasing her from the hug, Ruki gestured to the dining table which held a magnificent feast of her coveted smoked salmon, filleted to perfection, and other side dishes to complement the flavor of the seafood to its fullest potential. For dessert afterwards, a container the shape of her pendant holding a myriad of chocolates, some with fruity surprises in their centers, rested at the end, also prepared by none other than the Vampire even if making sweets was not his forte. Temporarily, he turned his back, retrieving a freshly brewed cup of cappuccino. Not only did it boast an ornate cream design on its surface, but also he practiced endlessly to spell her name out in elegant, cursive letters. A visible tendril of steam rose from the mug as he set it next to her plate.

"You'll never believe how many tries it took me to decorate this properly… It's laughable, but I'm pleased with how it turned out. Savor it well, since I'll never design my coffee like this ever again," he chuckled with a tinge of cold humor. "…Only a joke. Or not."

In the meantime, as all the dishes and drinks cooled down just a tad bit, Ruki brought out a moderately sized present box wrapped neatly in a satin bow. Inside it contained several bath bombs to take a foamy bath to relax the nerves after a stressful day in addition to an illuminated set of ice skates—two pairs, to be exact, one of Irina's size and the other fitting his own feet. Aside from the size, they looked exactly identical.

"It's only for a few days, but I actually booked us a weekend getaway in the mountains. I hear the lakes in that area freeze up around this time of the year, so we can easily go skating together. Not to mention how beautiful the snow looks atop the forest trees," he beamed with a faint grin. "Oh, and I won't lose the next snowball fight, so be mindful of which tactics you use against me."

Once more, he gathered his wife into a comforting embrace and stroked the silky strands of her champagne tresses, exulting in the warmth of their love. Pulling away, both of his hands caressed the sides of her cheek as he dove for a kiss as fond and lingering as every shared affection and passionate union their bodies rejoiced in.

"I love you, Irina. Happy Birthday. Shall we eat, then? We could indulge in this meal together, relax with a bath, and everything that comes later."

Closing the front door behind her back, Irina's nostrils caught the alluring aroma of freshly prepared food, accompanied by her husband's voice greeting her arrival after a long day of work. Since the morning they had only had breakfast along with a small cake especially for this day, since unfortunately she had to give the rest of her afternoon and part of the night to her career demanding her attention, so the woman did not take Ruki's excuse with having to visit his brothers for some important duties as something offensive.

— My, I did not expect you to be home at this time, and with dinner already prepared-- — The golden-haired woman couldn't even finish her words as soon as she set foot in the dining room, masculine arms surrounded her body by surprise from behind, increasing her shock when she saw in front of her a bouquet of her favorite flowers: Dahlias.

— Oh my, Ruki! — A bright beam spread across the female's face, while bright flashes of joy overshadowed her eyes like a stampede of fireflies as she took the bouquet in her hands. — Wonders never cease with you huh, this is very detailed of you. —

Irina tried to oppress a snigger as soon as her skin bristled thanks to the tickle of the kiss implanted on her nape. — You're right. I really like these flowers not only because of their colors, but also because they don't make it impossible for you to use other scents in your home... Although, I must be honest and say that's not the only reason, — The woman turned her gaze to the side, to look over her shoulder at the vampire. — but also because of their meaning. Did you know that Dahlias evoke eternal love and passion? Giving them as a gift is a sign of commitment and desire for a lasting relationship... In addition to connecting us with happiness and joy. It would be a good opportunity to grow them in our garden.—

The surprises kept coming, and one of them was the minimalist but elegant and sophisticated pendant that now adorned her neck, flaunting some brilliant emerald and sapphire jewels perfectly representing the usual pastiche that the couple's eyes did as soon as their gazes met, vibrating with love and adoration in the same unison.

— It is a very special gift, Cœur, and despite the fact that from now on I will dress it with pride and much affection, it must be admitted that it will lack power, since the greatest proof of property in your name that can be here is my mind and heart who constantly cry for having only your presence and your whole being. — Irina explained with a silly curve to her lips which soon collided with the Mukami's jaw in an affectionate kiss.

Approaching the dining table, Irina paused for a moment to place the bouquet in its vase of water, thus leaving her hands free and her attention available to deliver to the table.

— My Goodness, I knew I smelled some smoked salmon from here... And with balsamic vinegar! Such a delight. — Feeling her mouth moisten at the increase in saliva, the blonde could already predict the flavor flooding her taste buds.

She carefully observed the different dishes that had been served on the table, everything from starters and snacks to side dishes along with exotic-looking desserts. — How extravagant, you outdid yourself this time Ruki. — Irina praised blindly trusting that everything, even those dishes that did not show the greatest 'forte' of her husband, would feel like a sky lowered to her mouth carried by the very seraphs to bless her palate.

Soon the cup of her favorite beverage caught her attention, appreciating at a first glance the design that Ruki put on with so much love and effort.

— You sweet man, you have not missed even the smallest detail of my preferences and you even went overboard with a design as sought after as this one. Heh, I see I was blessed with the perfect spouse. Nevertheless... — Irina smirked, knowing very well that the joke she was about to say might tickle the dark-haired man's pride a bit. — ...with so much heart everywhere I can't help but think of those schoolgirls so head over heels that draw lots of hearts on their notebooks when they start having a crush. —

Curiosity exploded in the being of the Owl as soon as a carefully wrapped box came into view. Catching it in her possession, Irina peaked with an intriguing look inside to see its contents. Although she appreciated the bath bombs to have a precious moment of relaxation in the bathroom, the ice skates were the gift that most impacted her, thus bringing back several memories.

— It's been years since I last ice skated... I'll even bet I've already forgotten some tricks or even how to keep my balance. — A nostalgic smile escaped her lips as she placed the gift box on the table to warmly receive the embrace and reciprocate it with her own affection.

Melting before the deep kiss, Irina wrapped her arms around Ruki's neck, thus bringing their bodies closer with such desire that it seemed that at any moment they would merge as one.

— I love you so so so much and wholeheartedly appreciate all the things you do for me. — At one point, Irina pressed her forehead to Ruki's allowing their locks to tangle like night and day to create a radiant eclipse. — I am very grateful to have you by my side, and I hope I can make you as happy -or even more- as greet me this joy. —

Finally breaking away from their union, Irina took Ruki's hand, intertwining fingers and linking their resplendent wedding bands together, to sit together in front of their table. — Let's start testing your feast, then we'll wind down in the bathroom just to melt away all our tension so we can enjoy the outcome of the night in the best of ways with greater ease of movement. — She crooned, clearly hinting with a playful mood.

Grabbing a small piece of the salmon with her fork and then popping it into her mouth, Irina raised her eyebrows to feel it melt in her mouth like butter. — Mm~! You have to taste this! — She squealed excitedly, bringing another piece to her husband's mouth, encouraging him to check its texture and taste like a fine ragweed.