#and realizes a fraction of how she hurt me

[mydearlybeloathed]

creating spotify playlists so the person i have secret undying ravenous world shattering beef with gets the hint: :)

adding songs that used to be OUR SONGS to amplify the hint: :)

knowing none of it matters because she doesnt care enough to stalk my spotify anymore: :(

[kutyaharapas]

i dont think my brain can conceptualize love. or at least from the information i gather

[its-avalon-08]

say something, say anything (ln4)

summary -> lando and y/n got into a massive agrguement and he yelled at her. she leaves to get some space and he is left to pick up the pieces.

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort

The air crackled with tension in Lando's sleek apartment. Dinner plates remained untouched, the remnants of a playful afternoon at the Monaco harbor replaced by a suffocating silence. Y/N, her back ramrod straight, finally broke it.

"I can't believe you said that to Daniel," she said, voice tight.

Lando scoffed, pushing back from the table. "Come on, Y/N, it was just a joke."

"A pretty cutting one, aimed at someone who's actually struggling this season," she countered. "And in front of everyone, no less."

"He should be able to take a jab," Lando mumbled, his playful demeanor replaced by a defensive scowl.

"That's not the point! It's not funny to poke fun at someone's performance, especially a teammate."

"Oh, come on," Lando's voice rose a notch. "Don't pretend you haven't laughed at some of Ricciardo's antics yourself."

"That's different! It's all light-hearted banter, not publicly belittling someone on a bad day."

Lando slammed his fist on the table, the sudden noise making Y/N flinch. "Look, will you just fucking drop it? It's not a big of a goddamn deal."

The anger in his voice caught Y/N off guard. Tears welled up in her eyes. "That's not how you talk to me, Lando."

His expression softened a fraction. "Y/N, I—"

"No," she cut him off, wiping at her eyes. "This is fucking childish. I'm going for a walk."

She grabbed her purse and stormed out, leaving Lando staring after her, a knot of guilt tightening in his stomach. He waited for a beat, then pulled out his phone, his heart hammering in his chest as he dialed your number.

One ring. Two rings. Voicemail.

Frustration bubbled up. He tried again, the same result. He slammed his phone down on the table, his anger returning.

He fumed for a while, then finally dialed again. This time, you picked up.

"Y/N," he started, relief flooding his voice.

"What, Lando?" Your voice was cool, devoid of its usual warmth.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," he said, forcing a lightness he didn't feel. "It was a stupid joke, and I shouldn't have said it."

"An apology would've been nice back at the apartment, before I had to practically walk out," you countered.

"Yeah, well, you could've just talked to me instead of storming off like a—"

He stopped himself, realizing where that was going. There was a heavy silence.

"Don't call me immature, Lando," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

"It's kind of immature to walk out on a conversation just because you're upset," he retorted, defensiveness creeping back in.

"Oh, so now it's my fault for being upset by your lack of empathy?"

"I have empathy, Y/N! But I also know how to laugh things off sometimes. You need to lighten up geez."

The line went dead. Lando stared at the phone, his frustration morphing into something close to despair. He'd messed up, royally. He knew you weren't the type to throw a tantrum, but walking out after he yelled? That was bad. Really bad.

He sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He needed to fix this, but how? Maybe some flowers, your favorite chocolates… but that felt like a band-aid on a gaping wound. He needed to do better. He just hoped you'd give him the chance.

a little later

Y/N wandered the park, tears drying on her cheeks, leaving a trail of saltiness. Her phone buzzed incessantly with Lando's calls, but she kept it silenced. She just needed some space to process the anger and hurt. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into a familiar figure.

"Oh, Y/N! Hey!" boomed Daniel's voice, his usual infectious energy dimmed. Heidi, his girlfriend, greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a fresh wave of guilt. "Hey, guys," she managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The puffiness around her eyes must've been a dead giveaway.

"Everything alright?" Daniel asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You look like you've been crying."

Y/N quickly blinked away any threatening tears. "Oh, no, it's just allergies. Hay fever's a nightmare this time of year." It was a lame excuse, and they both knew it.

Heidi, perceptive soul she was, placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Are you sure? You can tell us if something's wrong."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the urge to confide in them strong. But Lando's immaturity and the sting of his words still felt raw. "Honestly, it's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Thanks for your concern, though. It means a lot."

Before they could press further, Y/N shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, there's something I wanted to say." She turned to Daniel, her voice sincere. "I'm so sorry about Lando's comment earlier. It was completely out of line, and I know you're working incredibly hard."

Daniel gave her a sad smile. "No worries, Y/N. I appreciate you sticking up for me." He patted her hand lightly. "Just tell Lando to ease up on the… team spirit, shall we say?"

Y/N gave a weak laugh, unable to meet his eyes fully. "I'll try."

With a forced farewell, she turned and walked away, leaving Daniel and Heidi to exchange a worried glance.

Daniel, phone pressed to his ear, marched purposefully towards his car. "Lando? Speak to me."

There was a nervous pause on the other end. "Hey, mate," Lando said, his voice strained.

"Don't 'hey, mate' me," Daniel cut him off, his voice low and firm. "What happened with Y/N?"

Lando flinched at the sharpness in Daniel's tone. He mumbled a vague explanation, trying to downplay the situation. Daniel, however, wasn't having it.

"Listen, Lando," Daniel interrupted, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I know things haven't been going great for me this season. But that doesn't give you the right to take a jab at my performance, especially in front of everyone. You know better than that."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And from the way Y/N sounded, it seems things escalated beyond a 'joke'. You know she cares about you, right?"

Lando mumbled incoherently, a knot of shame tightening in his stomach. Daniel didn't need to hear his answer.

"Just… sort it out," Daniel said with a sigh. "And for goodness sake, apologize properly. She deserves it."

The line went dead, leaving Lando staring at his phone, the weight of his actions hitting him hard. He'd hurt Y/N, embarrassed Daniel, and created unnecessary tension within the team. Now, he had to fix it, but where to even begin?

Panic gnawed at Lando's insides. He'd called Y/N a dozen times, each unanswered ring echoing his growing fear. He couldn't believe he'd let things escalate so far. To make matters worse, her phone's location service was disabled, adding another layer of frustration.

He knew her usual haunts, the park being a top contender. Throwing on a cap and sunglasses, he jumped into his car, speeding through the city streets. Every corner looked the same, his heart pounding with a frantic rhythm. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted a familiar figure on a park bench, a discarded coffee cup beside her.

He parked haphazardly and sprinted across the grass, his chest heaving. Y/N, her back turned, didn't even turn her head when she heard his approach.

"Y/N," he said, voice ragged. "Hey, please listen to—"

She remained stubbornly silent, staring intently at a group of pigeons strutting across the grass. Lando felt defeated, his shoulders slumping. "Look, I know I messed up. Big time."

Still no response. He felt like a fool, rambling on to a brick wall.

"What I said to Daniel, it was stupid and insensitive. And then yelling at you… that was just… I don't even know what I was thinking. You didn't deserve that."

He took a deep breath, finally registering the hurt on her face, even from behind. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. Can you please forgive me?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Just as Lando felt all hope drain away, Y/N finally spoke. "You know what, Lando? You hurt me. A lot."

Her voice, though quiet, held an unexpected edge of strength. It was a wake-up call, and Lando felt a surge of gratitude that she hadn't shut him out completely.

"I know," he confessed, his voice thick with remorse. "I feel terrible about it. Please, just talk to me."

A long, agonizing silence followed. Finally, Y/N sighed, a flicker of something softer returning to her eyes. "Alright," she said, finally facing him. "But you better be sincere, Lando Norris."

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He knelt before her, taking her hand in his. "More sincere than you can imagine. I value you, Y/N. You're… everything to me."

His voice cracked slightly, and he saw a flicker of empathy cross her face. "Just… don't take that for granted, okay?"

He squeezed her hand, his heart overflowing. "Never. Never again. Can you forgive me?"

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching his. Slowly, a hint of a smile played on her lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But on one condition."

Lando grinned, hope blooming in his chest. "Anything."

"No more insensitive jokes about teammates, especially when you know they're struggling. And no more yelling when we fight."

He chuckled, relief turning into pure joy. "Deal. In fact, I'll bake Daniel a giant apology cake. How does that sound?"

Y/N laughed, a beautiful sound that chased away the last remnants of tension. "Sounds like a plan."

He stood up, pulling her into a tight embrace. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, a comforting balm to his soul. As they held each other, the anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a deep sense of love and understanding.

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, filled with unspoken apologies and renewed devotion. As they deepened the kiss, a sense of peace settled over them.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Y/N snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. With his arm wrapped around her, they sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the afternoon sun basking them in its glow. They had a long way to go, but for now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ JUST YOURS — LYNEY.

contents. archon quest spoilers, reader finds out lyney is from the house of the hearth—and all the drama + betrayal that comes from that </3 so big rip </3 but it has a hopeful ending tho !!

lyney has knocked on your door three times today—you haven’t opened up once. you can’t.

“please,” you can hear his muffled voice, “i just want to talk. will you let me explain?”

magicians must always make their audience believe in the impossible, he’s always told you with that sweet, alluring little smile on his face that makes you hang onto every word of his. he’s right, you think—magicians are simply those who have mastered the art of deception, and lyney is no exception. he’s deceiving you even now, with that broken voice as if he’s the one who’s hurt.

word spreads fast in fontaine—lyney, your sweet, romantic, devoted lyney, is of the house of the hearth. his trial mortifies you at first—but deep down, you know in your heart that lyney is no murderer. and then, in an instant, you’re not so sure anymore when somehow, within less than a day, lady furina is able to uncover more about your boyfriend than you have in months.

lyney is of the house of the hearth. he’s of the fatui.

“i’m sorry,” you hear a thud of his forehead resting against the door, “you’re mad, i know—but let me explain the—”

for the first time all day, you open the door. you’re not sure why—somehow, you need him to know you’re not just mad. you’ve been mad at lyney before, being mad is easy. being mad means he’ll pull a rose from behind your ear and make you smile against your will. being mad means you’ll realize you can’t stay mad at him for long, not when he looks at you like that. being mad is temporary—but this? this feels permanent.

you’re not mad at lyney. you simply can’t trust him anymore, and he needs to know that, needs to understand that he should stay away and never find you again.

you’re glaring at him, staring at the face that has always done nothing but make you smile. you wonder, for a small, doubtful moment, if every smile lyney has ever pulled from you has been built off of pure lies and half truths and withheld information.

you’ve given him every bit of yourself, told him everything there is to tell and then some, let him discover things himself that no one has yet to learn. and lyney, as you learn, is someone you can’t even begin to know, not really—maybe not ever.

“you’re with the fatui,” your voice is cold, but you know he can hear the waver—you hate him for that. for being able to pick you apart when you don’t know the first thing about him, “you’ve lied to me all this time—”

“i didn’t lie,” he says quickly, “i just…didn’t tell you everything—”

“that’s not any better,” you cut him off, finality in your voice that makes his eyes widen a fraction, “i have no business with someone of the—”

“wait,” his foot stops the door before it can close, stepping in despite your protests as he inches closer and closer. you take a step back every time—the hurt on his face is palpable. “can…can i explain? please?”

“explain what?” you furrow your eyebrows, “explain that you’re with the fatui? how is there any explaining that? how can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not bad—”

“i’m not,” he insists, “i’m not bad.”

lyney has never looked at you like that—like you’ve hurt him right where he’s most vulnerable, right where he’s weak and fragile and can’t bear to be hurt. you hate that you want to apologize for a moment, that you want to cradle his face and kiss the tremble off of his lips.

“then what are you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

“i’m trying to save people,” he croaks, “our organization has a lot of people—a lot of goals. father and i want to—”

“your father has hurt people,” you cut him off.

“father saved me,” he says firmly, “and lynette. she gave us a home. and she wants to save the people of this nation—”

“she’s taken advantage of your weakness and—”

“she did what no one else would for me and my family.”

“then go,” you spit, “go to her and do her bidding. but i can’t turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re with the fatui.”

“even as a member of the house, my decisions are my own,” his hand grabs yours—you can’t find it in yourself to pull it away. it’s familiar, warm—it’s lyney. your lyney. “i’m doing what i believe is right. to break the prophecy.”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you admit, tired, defeated, “or who you are, frankly. but i’m tired of lies, lyney.”

“then i’ll tell you the truth,” his voice trembles, “anything you ask.”

“i’m not sure that’ll help,” you say quietly.

and then his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as he pulls you close. you want to push him away. you want to melt into his arms. you want to tell him to leave. you want to ask him to always stay.

lyney is of the house of the hearth, the fatui. but he’s also your lyney—the one who brings you flowers and tucks them behind your ear, the one who does tricks for children and makes them smile, the one who gives his heart and soul for his family to keep them safe.

you don’t know if the two can coexist as one, but you know despite it all, you still love lyney, and you don’t know if you can stop. the thought is haunting.

“i’ve always done what i believe is right,” he promises, “i’ve never hurt someone innocent. you have to know that much.”

“lyney—”

“i love you,” his voice breaks, “i’ve always loved you as just lyney. i promise.”

“i’m scared of who you are when you’re not just lyney,” you whisper—and you suppose you’re also weak, because your hand slips into his hair, stroking through the strands so that if it’s the last time, maybe you can commit the feeling of him to memory.

you can feel his tears fall onto your skin, and you can feel his fingers grip your shirt as he clings onto you, onto the last bit of hope that you’re his—that he’s yours. your lyney, the one you’ve always known and loved.

“i’m always just lyney,” he promises, “no matter who i’m with.”

“i just…need time,” you sniffle, “to think.”

“okay,” he says quietly. you can feel his lip quiver against your skin as he presses a kiss to your neck, “i’ll wait. however long you need, i’ll wait. i love you.”

“i know, lyney,” you sigh, caving and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. you savor the feeling—just in case you’ll never feel it again.

maybe you can—maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe lyney has always been yours, the one you think you know. you don’t know, but you hope you’ll find out.

i would forgive him i can’t lie to you no amount of fatui crimes could outweigh how badly i need to kiss this little shrimp of mine

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Angel Wings - Lute (Hazbin Hotel) x Angel!Reader

Summary: Angels have always wrapped their wings around the ones they love in a display of the highest form of admiration and affection. Lute's yet to do it to you, until the most recent extermination, that is.

An angel wrapping their wings around another had always been seen as an intimate thing in Heaven and elsewhere, a sign of love and affection that was reserved only for those cherished the most. It was almost as serious as a sincere, straight-from-the-heart, confession of love.

You had always wanted another angel to wrap their wings around you, that other angel in question being Lute, your sweet (to you), yet violent girlfriend. However, she had always been far from affectionate, a result of her upbringing and training as a soldier, as well as her lack of experience in romantic relationships.

You had wrapped your wings around her plenty of times, the feeling of holding her close in such a warm, loving way made you feel like you had ascended beyond Heaven and into something even better. Yet, she never returned the gesture. Did she not see your relationship as seriously as you saw it? You thought that you'd never get to experience her showing you her love in the way only an angel could.

Until the most recent extermination.

She had come home in a horrible shape, one of her eyes swollen and black, bright gold, angelic blood dripping from her nose, and the cuts on her forehead and cheek. The same golden blood covered parts of her uniform, and in utter disbelief, you tried to convince yourself it wasn't hers until you saw the missing arm which you could only pray would heal back.

You opened your mouth, ready to say her name in shock, unable to say much else; until she sprung forward, wrapping you tightly in her remaining arm, followed by her wings closing around you, and she buried her face into your shoulder.

"Lute—" You began, cutting yourself off when heard the soft sound of her crying, something you had never heard or seen from her before.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled, hugging you even tighter. "I know crying is weak a-and—"

"Don't apologize. Never apologize for that." You reassured her, finally overcoming your shock and hugging her back.

"Adam's dead, and so are so many others," She explained, moving to face you. Her eyes held fear and desperation you never expected to see from her, and it looked as if tears threatened to spill from those same eyes even harder as she struggled to hold them back. "When I was in the middle of that battle I couldn't help but think, 'What if I die? What if I never see you again?' I know I've been blessed to have you show me so much love, and I haven't returned even a fraction of it."

Now, it was your turn to begin crying. "Oh, Lute," You murmured, softly cradling her face in your hands. As you wiped her tears away, the feeling of warmth around you dawned on you. You had been too caught up in the moment to notice the way she had wrapped her wings around you; the ultimate sign of an angel's love, and it felt like it, too. It felt like you were falling in love with her all over again, and it was divine.

You kissed her passionately, making sure to put every single ounce of wonderful emotion she was making you feel into the way your lips moved against hers. She kissed back with the same intensity, wings pulling you in ever closer. The kiss felt like it could last forever, but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually.

When it ended you looked at each other, a mutual sharing of adoration for the other between you two. She glanced down, taking notice of how tightly she was holding you, a light blush covering her face at the realization. She let you go, giving you a sheepish smile and a 'sorry' for holding you so tightly.

"Don't apologize. It felt nice." You replied, smiling back at her warmly. Your attention then turned to her wounds. "Let's get you patched up, okay? That looks like it hurts."

She nodded, watching as you began to head further into your house in search of a first-aid kit. She called out your name, stopping you.

"I love you, I really do. Thank you."

You smiled at her. "I know. Just take your time. I know these things don't come easy to you."

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Request: Bucky had a bad day at work and his girlfriend (the reader) tries to comfort him and he yells at her without realizing it and makes her cry and she gives him the silent treatment and he buys her flowers to show her how sorry he is and tells her how much he loves her

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: harsh words, angsty feelings, mentions of death

It wasn't easy being the person sitting at home waiting. The days were long and the nights even longer. Tonight was no different. He didn't get home until 1am but it was your day off and you'd had a lie in, so you were happy to sit on the sofa and wait up. Even though Bucky had specifically told you not to wait for him when he had texted that they had gotten back safely to base camp.

You looked at your watch for the umpteenth time. Debriefs normally never took this long and you hoped that there wasn't a problem. A myriad of possibilities ran through your mind about the reasons for his delay. What if he was hungry? What if he was thirsty? He would definitely be tired. You didn't want to think about the possibility of injury.

Instead of letting the cacophony of thoughts overwhelm you, you decided to get up and put together a few food and drink options in case Bucky did want something before bed.

You'd just laid out his favorite muffin on a plate when you heard the key in the front door and your disheveled boyfriend trudged into the apartment. He froze suddenly at the sight of you in his kitchen.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was strained, almost like he wasn't expecting to see you.

“I know you said not to wait for you, but I thought you might be hungry… or thirsty,” you shrugged. “I made-”

Your voice tapered off as you saw the scowl on his face. His jaw moved from side to side before he chose to walk away silently. Bucky stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

You were left standing in a state of bewilderment, drowning in a state of inner turmoil. Had you said or done something to upset him? In an attempt to calm your mind, you tried to tidy up the table a little, only succeeding in moving a few things around before the bathroom door opened behind you. 

“Why are you still here? You weren't supposed to be here.” He sounded angry and oh so tired.

“Do you want me to go?” you asked meekly, shrinking under his glare.

“It's too late.”

“It's fine.” You knew you weren't wanted, so you grabbed your bag and made your way to the door.

You'd only managed to open the door a fraction of an inch when you felt Bucky brush against your back. He reached over you and slammed the door closed. Surprisingly, his actions didn't frighten you, despite the force he had just used. You were, however, concerned by his unexplained outburst. Bucky had never raised his voice at you, he was always so sweet and gentle. There was almost a reluctance when it came to sex, like he was afraid that his strength would hurt you. 

“What are you going to do? Walk? At this time of night?” His voice was laced with poison and it cut you like a knife.

Shit you hadn't brought your car. You definitely didn't want to walk outside alone at 2.30am.

“Well, you've made it pretty clear you don't want me here.”

“I-” 

You weren’t sure if it was the look on your face, or your scathing tone but he seemed to be at a loss for words. You slipped past your boyfriend and stalked over to his couch.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, watching you fluffing the cushions to use as a makeshift pillow.

“I'll just stay here, you go to bed.”

“Just come and sleep in the bed,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I'm fine here.”

“I'm not going unless you come too.”

You bit your lower lip, there was nothing you wanted more at this point than to rage back at him, to point out how awful his behavior was, to let him know how awful he had made you feel, but there was something in his expression that stopped you. Your outrage was replaced by an overwhelming sadness. 

“Fine,” you huff before getting up and sliding past Bucky into the bedroom.

Climbing onto your usual side of the bed, you curled up at the very edge, facing away from Bucky. Even though your rational mind told you that there must be a reason for his demeanor, your amygdala couldn't help but exert its influence and soon silent tears were coating your cheeks as well as soaking the pillow.

What you didn't notice was Bucky's small sighs as you tried to stifle the sound of your sniffles. He rolled over on his back and tried to focus on something other than the pain he had caused you. For some reason this made him angrier than he was before, but not at you. He had never been angry at you, just surprised. Your presence had been unexpected. He had wanted to drown his sorrows in a scalding hot shower and not have to speak to anyone. It would have been nice to lie in bed, wrapped in your loving arms…

Bucky groaned quietly. He had taken out every one of his frustrations out on you, the one person he loved most in the world. You had always accepted every part of him, and in his heart of hearts, he knew you would accept the secret he had come home with. Bucky had no one to blame but himself for this mistake.

He turned his face to you, calling your name softly, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to respond. Instead you chose to close your eyes and shut out the world and the pain. Eventually your breathing evened out, became steadier and deeper than it had been before and Bucky realized that you’d finally dozed off. His mind wouldn’t give him the same relief though, his thoughts spiraled, convincing him of every catastrophic outcome. There were very few things that James Buchanan Barnes was certain of, and you were one of them.

Sunrise came all too soon for you and not soon enough for Bucky. Maybe it was the angle at which you’d fallen asleep but you woke shortly after the morning larks started their song. The night’s events came back to you like a knife through the heart and you knew you had to leave. The thought of having another encounter like the one you’d had with Bucky the night before was agonizing and you had no desire to face him again, not yet. As softly as you could, you peeled back the duvet and pushed yourself off the mattress before stumbling into the bathroom. You hadn’t undressed the night before which meant that you had the option for an easy escape. Before leaving, you glanced at the mirror, grimacing at the dark circles under your still red eyes.

You had made it as far as the door before he had caught up with you again.

“Please.” His tone was pleading, he might as well have been on his hands and knees begging you to stay.

“I have to go, Bucky.”

You pulled your hand from his and made your escape. He didn’t follow you but he tried calling you repeatedly. He only stopped when you cut the last attempt short by sending him to voicemail without answering. As soon as you got home, you shook the snow off your shoulders, slipped out of your clothes and crawled under your covers and fell asleep with tears in your eyes.

As you slept, Bucky stewed in the juices of his guilt, steeping himself in a melancholy of his own making. He needed to act, he needed to apologize, he had to make things right. Grabbing his wallet, Bucky put on his coat and drove to the nearest florist to purchase a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

He cradled the beautiful blooming buds as he approached your building. Bucky had spotted your car down the street, covered in snow, there was no mistaking the outline of Stitch with the words “Back off bumper rhumper. My brakes are good. How’s your insurance?”

It was lucky you didn’t have to go to work because you slept for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. Oblivious to the ringing doorbell and phone, you slept peacefully.

Instead of leaving, Bucky sat down on the steps outside your apartment, clutching the floral arrangement like a lifeline. He was a patient man, he wasn't afraid of the cold, they had named him Winter after all.

Finally you woke to a deep rumbling in your stomach. You hadn't eaten in almost twenty hours and your body demanded to be fed. After a long stretch and a quick raid of your closet for warm clothes, you opened your fridge to find a cold LED light glaring back at you. It was empty. You needed groceries. Instead of stocking your own fridge, you'd spent all your time filling Bucky's. 

As tempting as the take out menus were, you needed some basics for the next few days before you had to go back to work. Without bothering to change, you pulled on a pair of thick socks, a hoodie and your duffle coat and headed out with the intention of visiting the local grocery store.

You were just about to let go of the main door to your apartment building, when you caught sight of a pair of familiar boots. Following your line of vision, you looked up from the boots to their owner and you are surprised to find Bucky asleep on your doorstep covered in snow with a now frozen bunch of flowers which appear to have crystallized to his jacket.

In a moment of panic, you dropped to your knees in the snow, shaking the sleeping supersoldier and calling his name.

“Bucky!” 

He opened his eyes, unfocused in their disorientation. Your hands cupped his freezing cheeks to get his attention. Were his lips blue?

“Bucky, look at me.”

He tried to whisper your name, but his voice was barely audible and all that came out of mouth was a tiny puff of steam.

“Are you alright? Can you get up?”

You hissed at the frigid feeling on your palms as your hands moved behind his arms in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

“Yeah, one sec.” Bucky pushed himself off the floor, the stiffness of his body making his movements slow and pained. It was almost like watching the reanimation of a corpse after rigor mortis had set in.

Before he had the chance to say and more, you'd grabbed his wrist and dragged him up to your apartment. It was your turn to be angry. At him, at yourself for not having seen his attempts to get in touch. If you were honest with yourself, you'd have ignored his calls and it infuriated you that your behavior had caused him to act this way. But mostly you were mad at him.

And because of this, you refused to say another word as you wrenched open your front door and guided your popsicle boyfriend onto the couch. Ignoring his stuttered apologies, you grabbed a couple of blankets, removed his outer layer of clothing and wrapped him tightly into a cocoon of blended polyester, cotton and wool.

Bucky's gaze was hawklike as you silently fussed over him, ensuring his warmth with blankets. You turned up the heat on the thermostat to furnace conditions and put the kettle on. You popped a teabag of chamomile and honey tea into each of two mugs and stood next to the kettle, as though watching it would make it boil faster. It was only because you didn't want Bucky to see the tremble of your lip as you fought against the urge to break down over the stress of the last twenty four hours.

You pulled your arms around your torso, shivering slightly. It really was cold outside and you were hoping that Bucky wouldn't suffer from having fallen asleep outside. Without warning, you felt a warmth envelope you. Bucky had crept up behind you and in his socks, you hadn’t noticed his approach on the hardwood floor. He put his arms around you and draped himself around you along with the blanket, making you sigh and melt into him.

Bucky took it as a good sign that you didn’t pull away or punch him in the face. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, trying to memorize every detail of your essence. You considered staying there, wrapped silently in his arms but the whistle of the kettle brought you back to your senses. Wordlessly, you unwrapped yourself from his embrace and poured water into the empty mugs.  You picked up the two mugs and motioned him over to the sofa.

The two of you sat together quietly sipping the tea. You glanced over at your boyfriend, your heart softening as you saw how sad and small he looked. Normally Bucky had a presence, he had broad shoulders and was tall, his vibranium arm occasionally glinting with a hint of menace. But as he sat wrapped up and clutching the mug of tea close to his face as he inhaled the steam with his red tinged nose, you wanted nothing more than to curl under the blanket with him and kiss his face.

You watched as he closed his eyes and a small crinkle appeared at the bridge of his nose. You frowned slightly, confused by the way his nostrils twitched for a second before his head pitched forward with a surprising sneeze. His hands shook and hot tea sloshed over his hands. You grabbed the mug from his hands and deposited it on the coffee table before turning back to your boyfriend with a look of worry.

“Bless you?” you whispered, your voice laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

You brushed his face with the back of your hand. Did he have a fever? There was a heat that was emanating from him. The supersoldier serum should protect him from illnesses. Shouldn’t it?

“Yeah, the steam went up my nose. It tickled.”

“Sure?”

Bucky nodded. Your care for him gave him the courage to take your hand.

“Look, I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It was totally unacceptable.”

“Buck-”

“I know you’re upset… and I understand if you aren’t ready for forgive me-”

“Buck-”

“And that’s okay, if you don’t want to talk to me-”

“Bucky!”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you so angry? Did things go badly with your mission?”

Bucky looked down at his hands, suddenly afraid of what you would say about his explanation. It was obvious by the way he traced the golden veins of his vibranium arm. You took his hand in an attempt to reassure him of your support.

“I only had one thing to do and I couldn't even get that right.”

Bucky couldn't quite look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“How many people have to die because of me?” he asked dismally. “Steve wouldn't have let her die.”

“Bucky, you didn't let anyone die. She was murdered. That's not on you.” You had no idea what you were talking about, but you knew he would never intentionally hurt anyone. 

“You should have seen how everyone looked at me. I… didn't want you to look at me like that.”

“Oh Bucky.” You moved closer to him and put your hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles on it. “I don't think that you screwed up. You're not a failure. You did your best. Sometimes bad things happen and they are completely out of our control.”

“I'm so sorry for the way I spoke to you.”

“Yeah, I'm not going to lie, that wasn't fun for me.” You sighed. “Look, can we agree that neither of us acted in an ideal way.”

“I can't see what you did wrong.”

“I don't want to do this again, Bucky.”

“Neither do I.”

“I promise, in future, I'll respect your request to be left alone.”

“And I'll do my best to tell you how I feel.”

Both you and Bucky sat gazing into each other's faces until your stomach rumbled loudly and interrupted the tender moment.

“Hungry?” Bucky smirked at you.

“What gave it away?” You rolled your eyes. 

“Shall we order something?”

“Yeah, let me grab my tablet.”

You got up to fetch your device but you were stopped by a strong pair of hands around your waist. Bucky pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear. 

[philokaliist]

'A Glimpse Of Serpents'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfMedusa!Reader

A/N:Love,love,LOVE the concept of this but Idk how to feel abt how this turned out

Clarisse finds out her girlfriend's heritage and the fact that she inherited her mother's petrifying gaze

In the golden glow of a summer afternoon at Camp Half-Blood, Clarisse La Rue strolled through the training grounds, her armor glinting in the sunlight.

As Clarisse neared the archery range, she spotted her girlfriend,you,leaning against a tree.You,the daughter of Medusa,always wore sunglasses – a necessary shield against the curse that lived within your gaze.Clarisse greeted you with a warm smile, but something in the atmosphere around them felt off.

The sunlight caught the lenses of your sunglasses, and in a fleeting moment, Clarisse saw a reflection that sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't just a normal reflection; it was a glimpse of something unimaginable. In that fraction of a second, Clarisse saw the twisted, serpentine eyes of yours, eyes that mirrored the cursed heritage passed down from Medusa herself.

Clarisse looked at you,eyes wide for a moment,but then a scowl forming on her face as she decided to question you - to confirm if what she just witnessed was right. "What's with the shades all the time? We're in camp,not some fancy set." she grumbled.

You hesitated for a moment,then sighed,deciding to tell her "Clarisse, there's something I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.Please."

Clarisse scoffed, "Just spill it already."

Taking a deep breath,you removed your sunglasses - not meeting Clarisse's gaze,you revealed eyes that mirrored the unsettling gaze of your mother, Medusa. Clarisse recoiled, her anger momentarily replaced by shock.

"What the hell!?" Clarisse's voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.

You nodded solemnly, "I didn't want you to find out like this,but I didn't know how to tell you."

Clarisse's fists clenched, her expression hardening. "You've been keeping this from me? Are you trying to turn me into stone or something!?" she was furious now,and it was showing - both from her face and her tone.

You pleaded, "No, Clarisse, I love you. I wear the sunglasses to avoid accidentally turning anyone to stone. I've been trying to protect you."

Clarisse's anger flared up, "Protect me?!Protect me!!? By keeping such a major secret? You think I can't handle it?!"

You stammered "I was scared, okay? I thought you'd hate me!"

Clarisse glared at you, the hurt evident in her eyes. "You could have trusted me.But instead,you lied to my face!!"

You gasp,panic setting in,stumbling backwards. "Clarisse, please don't..."

But it was too late. Clarisse snapped, her temper boiling over. "Get away from me! I can't believe I trusted you."

You winced,devastated, turned around and fled deep into the forest. Clarisse, seething with anger and confusion,stood alone near the archery range.As you ran,your tears mingled with the constant muttering of "monster, monster, monster" echoing through the trees.

Clarisse was still grappling with the revelation and the harsh words she had just hurled at the person she loved. Deep down, she knew you weren't a monster, but the shock had ignited a volatile reaction. As the echoes of your footsteps faded, Clarisse was left with the weight of her own regret, realizing that the trust they had built might be shattered.

Eventually, Clarisse found you sitting by the lake alone, staring at your reflection with a mixture of self-loathing and fear. The raw vulnerability in that moment softened Clarisse's anger. She approached you with a gentleness that hadn't been there before.

As you looked up,tear-stained eyes meeting Clarisse's amidst the shadows of the ancient trees as you cried harder and spoke,your eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses. "You don't understand,Clarisse!You can't understand!I'm a monster.My mother's curse runs through me.I never asked to be born a monster!I didn't...I really didn't..." your words seemed to catch in your throat as you sobbed.

Clarisse sighed,still obviously upset - but she spoke in a calmer tone,attempting to calm you down.She kneeled besides you and spoke "Look,sorry for how I acted back there.It just..I was disappointed and sad - sad that you didn't tell me,sad that you lied to me...but I'm not running away from you.I would never run away from you." Clarisse spoke softly, her voice a contrast to the anger from before. "We're in this together,no matter what.But you've got to trust me,even with the parts you consider ugly."

Clarisse gently reached for her girlfriend's hand, her expression softening. "I know I can be a handful, but I'm not going anywhere.We face things together, good and bad. Trust me, okay?" She offered a small, reassuring smile, hoping to mend the moment and strengthen your connection as you embraced,hugging eachother tightly.

A/N:This was kinda fun to write but I mean - it's something? Anyways finished my hw 💀

[a-b-riddle]

I'm just going to ask this because I need to get it out of my head. This is all in regards to your Poly141 x Reader series going on. I'm just going to recap things first.

-Price got verbally eviscerated because of all the times he got short/snapped at the reader because he came into their bookstore that they bought with their own money, put their own blood, sweat and tears into fixing up and had THE AUDACITY to call them immature for trying to break things off cleanly like a MATURE adult in a space that's RIGHTFULLY THEIRS because he couldn't be an adult admit how he shouldn't of been treating the reader like one of his men.

-Soap showing up trying to apologize and then thinking with his dick because of how the reader got dressed up for a dinner date and got a taste of his own medicine when the reader just hit it and quit it without so much as a thank you, or a goodbye kiss and basically told him to clean up, get dressed and kick rocks.

-Gaz shows up after weeks of just flaking out of any dates and just being a ghost (ironic considering Ghost's callsign) trying to talk to the reader in person when the reader had tried for months to just get a glimpse of him only to be told he couldn't right now but could another time. Then the reader just tell him, 'yeah sorry no. I don't have time for you and your mates nonsense at the moment, just swing by to get your stuff when it works for you'.

-Ghost showing up whenever the reader is in trouble and getting them away from danger only to disappear shortly afterward and give the reader radio silence. The one time that the reader tried to seek him out for just a SHRED of comfort and he just told them, 'You're only good for what's in between your legs love, you knew what you were getting into. You should've known better.'

With all this mind, I want Ghost to have everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him. I want him to be told in no kind words that his words and lack of realizing how fucked up the things he said to the reader were was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want the reader to hurl everything that they didn't say to Price to Ghost. I want him to realize in no unclear terms how if he didn't fuck up so royally and had actually attempted to give the reader a fraction of what he was being given, things would be so much better. And for some extra salt on the wound, have the reader tell him that they suppose that when it comes to his line of work, he's pretty good at breaking anything and everything he touches. It's just a shame that for anything that involves a softer touch, he winds up breaking it beyond repair.

I just love narrative/reflective irony and can't wait for the next part and wish you well for making it to the end of this ramble. 🥰

I'm throwing up.

I am so happy that y'all got it without me having to say it. YES! She is giving everything back that they gave her. John's outbursts, Johnny's lack of aftercare and Kyle's flakiness.

I will say this which I think is interesting. Simon said something hellllla shitty and unforgivable. Like it was mean and something once you say you can't take back. I will ask this and feel free to go back and re-read.

What else did Simon do? Before the phone call, what else did Simon do to reader? We know Simon wanted to hurt reader. Why? Did he plan

Spoiler below, read at own caution

Or was he just sick of being the only one out of the four guys to actually contribute to the relationship and knew he needed to be the one to drive it home that there isn't a future with them? Reader refers to Simon several times as her body guard or guard dog... But never a boyfriend or partner.

In flashbacks, we see that Simon only ever came over at night. You'll find out why in the next few chapters, but as much as I love y'all hating on Simon, I cannot WAIT for y'all to get to the why.

And remember kiddos, hurt people hurt people.

[heartilywrites]

i rlly like your gyomei fic! :3

can i request some tragic yet wholesome stuff w him?

the reader is a fragile health person, however she's very stubborn and often overwork to the point of fainting. that’s because they’re gyomei’s childhood friend (and fiancé maybe) and often times she feel guilty for not being strong enough to be a demon slayer. they probably work w lady amane.

،، 𝓒ommunication ; G. Himejima

request guide | masterlist

resume: where a visit to the butterfly estate made Gyomei realize something.

content warning: hurt to comfort ; Gyomei Himejima x fem!reader ; established relationship; r is not a slayer ; it totally comes with angst ; i feel like its a bit ooc for amane's dialogues,,, ill let you decide on that ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.7k

a/n: HI thank you i'm glad you liked the fic <33 i loved doing this one, i'm weak to write angst i love it. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, LOVE, ENJOY:D banner does not represent r in any way, it's just a painting i liked <3

“ All your thoughts running through your head, the things you think better left unsaid.

Shinobu took a step out of the room when the sound of a crow squawking and heavy footsteps were suddenly heard, a stone hashira with concern painted all over his face was what her eyes met in a fraction of second.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where is she? Is she okay? What happened?” the older one asked, desperate.

Kocho smiled softly and nodded. “She is okay, Himejima, she's sleeping right now, but you can stay and let her tell you what happened.”

Gyomei nodded back and took his step in the room where you were laying down, peacefully sleeping after such scary event. You, his beautiful fiancée, the love of his life, the person who had seen all his phases, looking so fragile before him. After sitting to your left, his big hands took your closest one with such caution and love, the warm feeling of your skin made him sigh in relief. Gyomei could hear your very slow and almost imperceptible breaths, he tried to replicate them to calm his nerves.

You knew you shouldn't be working more than you could handle, you knew how your health could change drastically in a blink of an eye, then why were you doing it anyway? Gyomei couldn’t get through his head how foolish you could be. He loved you, oh, you had no idea the amount of love the stone hashira felt for you ever since meeting you when you two were children and seeing you not taking care of yourself like you were supposed to be doing made him feel angry. Angry at Amane for not stopping you after you usually insisted that you could handle another heavy task, angry at you for not recognizing your own limits and more important: angry at himself for not being able to take care of you like he wanted to.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei?” the calling of his name in such a hoarsely manner made his face lit up a bit, your free hand made contact with his face to clean the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I'm sorry.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I thought we had an agreement.” he whispered, his voice didn’t sound mad, but you either way made a small grimace. “You are supposed to take care of yourself instead of being out there working.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, stop...” you shook your head, taking away the hand he was holding. “You don't understand–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, no, I do understand.” he cut you off. “I understand that you don't care about your own well-being, you're the one who doesn't understand how if this does not stop soon, it will only get worse with time. Don't I provide enough for you to not worry? Why do you keep doing this?”

Your eyes blinked astonished to his words, that had to be the first time he talked to you like that. “This is not about you, Gyomei, it's about how this” your hands signaled the room and yourself. “Makes me weak, I'm not strong enough to be a demon slayer, I'm not good enough to help out there in such dangerous times we live, when help is much needed out there and you better than anyone else know this.”

Now the man was the one who was in a loss of words. He didn’t know you felt like that, he definitely was feeling bad to jump so quick to attack you like that.

Your relationship had been build up by communication and trust, and Gyomei felt like he maybe hadn't been asking the correct questions or worse, you just didn’t trust him with your feelings about your condition like he thought you did.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to be left alone, please.” you said when he tried to talk again, wanting to apologize. “We can talk later.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I... I have a mission.” he answered with a sigh leaving his mouth. “I'll be quick and we can talk about this when I get back.”

A small humming noise vibrated on your throat, agreeing. “Take care, honey, I love you.”

Gyomei adored the way you always said the sweetest of things when he needed to leave you for a couple of hours or days even if you two were having an argument just before leaving. His job had always put his life on the line and even if you were mad at him, you knew it was a thing of the moment, something temporary that you wouldn't risk for it to be permanent in his mind, if anything happened you wanted him to remember you loved him, you always had and always will.

The stone hashira left a small kiss on your forehead after a whispered 'I love you too' had sounded and a ephemeral smile was shown your way before leaving, you watched him leave while playing with your engagement ring. You weren't double thinking about marrying him at all, you were totally sure you wanted to be his wife, you had been dreaming for quite some time now about being his wife, but the previous talk made you nervous about what he would say when he came back.

Both of you had this heartache the days Gyomei was out on the mission. That time was well used by the hashira, his mind thought about your words, he acknowledged your feelings towards your situation and he realized just then why you were so eager to be always helping Amane, it was your way to feel useful under the corporation. His heart felt both warm and shattered to such realization.

His walk back took him longer than defeating the demon he was assigned to take out, the stone hashira was practicing what he could say to you, the things he wanted you to know. Before arriving to his estate, Gyomei had bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers; when he entered by the front door and at the moment he wasn't greeted by a crushing hug from you, his feet turned back around and started to walk to the Master's estate knowing fully well you'll be there.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Himejima!” Amane greeted happily when he was announced, the named one bowed to her. “I'm glad you came back safe. Your fiancée is just bringing some important documents we needed, she'll be back soon.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Thank you for taking care of her.” he said smiling softly to the pale woman, she shook her head a bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No need, I try to give her the easiest tasks to prevent any issues, but she's quite the stubborn girl, huh?” the hashira smiled bright at your description.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I know, I will talk to her about it, we don't want anything bad happening to her.” he finished just when the sound of your steps began to be louder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei, you're back!” you exclaimed in such a sweet way he felt finally complete. “Here you go, Amane, may I leave now?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sure, no problem!” the white haired woman smiled big to the two of you. “Enjoy your time, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You took your fiancé's arm to walk back to your shared estate.

Halfway through he remembered the bouquet and extended it to you, when you gasped happy he smiled, brighter at the thank you your mouth said. Once back to the estate, you were quick to put the flowers in a vase and sit beside your fiancé, Gyomei looked for your hand and left caresses on the back of it when he found it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want to begin,” he said before you. “I would like to apologize to you, my love, I wasn't aware of how you felt and now that I know I get why you like to push yourself, but I really want you to take care of yourself.” your eyes were scanning your partner's face while he talked. “You are the most precious thing I have in my life, my rock where I can find rest, the first one to lend a helping hand when I need it.”

Your free hand went to place to the big one taking your other, the feeling of your touch made Gyomei feel an electric current travel his back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Please, know that I just want to protect you from everything I can, if I need to fight Muzan with my bare hands just to assure you will be okay trust me that I will do it.” your face started to feel warmer to such comment. “I'm sorry that you feel like you're of no help, but you couldn’t be more wrong, you're such an important piece in this corporation just as any of us are. Not fighting demons doesn't make you any less important.”

His eyes started to tear, your own were glossy with tears as well at such beautiful words he was saying to you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I will take better care of myself, love.” you answered after a couple of seconds of silence. “I promise, I won't overwork myself.”

Gyomei smiled a little bit. “You know? I always knew you would be such a strong and hardworking woman when we played together and you were the one putting all of us in order.”

You giggled, cleaning the couple of tears that had escape your eyes. “Well, it was always a mess to play something as a group, someone needed to guide that mess.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What if our kids happen to be a mess themselves? Like our old friends.” the question made your face grew hotter.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Gyomei Himejima, we haven't gotten married yet and you are already planning kids.” now it was your fiancé's turn to giggle.

The rest of the afternoon felt lighter, with everything sorted out you two could finally breath again. Not even after decades of knowing each other a fight took a bad turn, ever since you two were friends at childhood when one got angry to the other it was just a matter of talking it. Obviously it took a bit of try and error for your relationship to get to this exact point, but the path was definitely worth it to such beautiful relationship you two had built together.

[jennifer-jeong]

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (2)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 3.3K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response to part one was so overwhelming in all of the best ways. I'm so glad that so many people enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts for part two as well!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part One

----------

The pain medication kept him knocked out for most of the night. He remembers waking up a few times, blinded by pain or uncomfortable in the small hospital bed, but you were there every time. You slept curled in the chair beside him, wrapped in that green sweatshirt. Once, when the pain was what jolted him awake, you woke too. You hit the button for a nurse and smoothed his hair back on his forehead, his skin sticky with sweat despite the coolness of the hospital room. 

“You’re okay,” you murmured to him, shushing him gently when he groaned again. “It’ll go away in a minute, you’re okay.” 

As the nurses came in and administered him more medication, you stayed right there beside him. Your hand was still in his hair when he fell back into a drug-induced sleep.

Still, though, when he roused to consciousness with the sun shining in through the slightly raised blinds, he wondered if it was all a fever dream and if you ever existed to begin with. He was almost afraid to open his eyes. Yesterday was the only memory he had of you. There was still nothing before that, except for how you made him feel. While confusing, there was no way that a dream could make that up. He opened his eyes slowly, and there you were. 

You were leaning back in your chair, watching the tv that was playing on mute in front of his bed. He couldn’t tell if you were reading along with the subtitles you had turned on in an effort not to wake him up or simply watching the moving images. You held what looked like a large cup of iced coffee in your hands. 

You were just as breathtaking as he remembered from yesterday. His heart did the same flip that it did when he first laid bleary eyes on you.

He didn’t get to ponder you for too long before you turned your head in his direction and noticed that he was awake. Your eyes widened a fraction and you stared at one another for a moment, and Bradley thought it would be easy to get lost in your gaze.

“Hi,” you whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi,” he spoke back, his voice rough, but relieved. You were real after all. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Less like I got hit by a train and more like I got hit by a truck, so I guess better.” 

“Technically, you were hit by a plane. I imagine a train is close enough though.” 

It took him a second to get the joke, but the laugh he let out felt good. Mentally, at least. Physically, it hurt his ribs. But you were making jokes with him and he’d take that over you crying again. 

“Not many people can say that, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a shake of her head, “but you’ve always been a special one, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Blushing was an unfamiliar feeling. So unfamiliar that he didn’t realize that’s what he was doing at first, but hearing you say his full name and compliment him, because he knew that’s what you meant, made his face feel warm and his heart race. Your eyes flicked to his heart monitor, but you didn’t comment on it. 

“I asked your nurse if you could change since you might be more comfortable in your own clothes,” you said instead, motioning to a duffel bag that was set on the counter on the other side of his room that he didn’t notice before. “She said it’s fine, so I had a few things brought for you this morning. If you want.”

“That sounds great,” he said, because it did. He hated hospital gowns. He hated hospitals, period. “Any chance I can take a shower?” 

“No, I’m sorry. But um…they’re going to take you for more testing in a little bit, probably, and they said a nurse will help you clean up and change afterward.” 

You looked uncomfortable as you said the words, and he wanted to ask you why, but you pushed on before he could. 

“There should be a few pairs of sweatpants and shirts to choose from. If you don’t like anything in there I can get something else.”

“I’m sure whatever is in there will be fine,” he said softly. You were nervous, he could tell. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you nodded in response. 

There was a tension settling in the room that he didn’t quite enjoy. He supposed it was unavoidable, all things considered. Despite it, though, you remained in the seat beside his bed, almost within reach of him. Your hair was down this morning, one side tucked behind your ear to keep it out of your face. You were still wearing the Eagles sweatshirt that was too big for you. Your eyes were tired, and he wondered if you got anything more than restless fits of sleep last night.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up last night,” he started, unable to take the silence anymore. Your eyes snapped up to him. 

“It’s alright,” you insisted, sending him a small smile that had his heart fluttering again. “This chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.” 

He sincerely doubted that, but he didn’t call you out on it. You took a sip of your drink, barely putting it down before bringing it back to your lips for another. The ice rattled in the cup as it moved. 

He tried to make out what it was that you were drinking. Coffee, obviously, but he found himself curious as to what your typical order was. Were you just a cream and sugar kind of girl, or did you like flavors? Based on how long the order on the white sticker was, he guessed the latter. He couldn’t quite read what it said, but he could see the name above it. His eyebrows pulled together, causing an ache behind his eyes that he tried to push away. He remembered you saying that you had had a few things brought for him, not that you retrieved yourself, so he assumed whoever went to the home the two of you shared is who stopped and got your morning beverage, as well. For some reason, he felt a furling in his stomach. It was irrational, he knew, but the thought of another man doing these things for you, for him, made him feel something akin to jealousy. That wasn’t fair, he knew. He didn’t know your life or your family or even you. 

But he felt something for you. He didn’t exactly know what, but a connection that he’s never felt before existed between the two of you like an invisible string. It was one he found himself wanting to tug on and follow and see where it led. 

The unknown was intimidating to him, and that’s what this was. Everything about this was unknown.

“Who’s Pete?” he asked before he could stop himself. He hoped his voice didn’t come out as insecure as he felt. 

“What?” you asked, eyes widening and back straightening. He nodded toward the near empty coffee cup in your hand where the name was written above your order on the plastic. Your shoulders dropped and then tensed, which confused him even more. 

“Ah.” 

“I assume that’s who went and got my clothes? I’m sorry, I just don’t recognize the name.” He was trying, so hard, to pull something up to the front of his mind, but he couldn’t. He didn’t remember being close with anyone with that name. Maybe it was a family member of yours that he had forgotten along with you, but something told him that wasn’t the case. You wouldn’t be looking at him the way you currently are if it was a forgotten father or brother-in-law. You were eyeing him like you were uncomfortable in his presence, like you were scared of what to say to him. It was the first time he saw a look like this from you and he didn’t like it. There was something there, something about this name and him asking that unsettled you.  

A knock on the door interrupted the potential conversation, and now Bradley felt frustrated. He had so many questions and he knew the answers resided with you. One of the doctors from the previous day, Dr. Anderson, according to his coat, stepped in, offering a good morning as he scrolled on the tablet in his hand. 

“How are you feeling today, Lieutenant Commander?” 

The title was still unfamiliar to him. His gut reaction was to correct him, but the last time he did that, he found out he was missing four years of his life and an entire wife, so he refrained. 

“I’ve been better.” 

“Have you remembered anything overnight?” 

He saw you flinch out of the corner of his eye and the ice rattled in that damn coffee cup that he still had so many questions about due to your grip tightening for just a moment. 

He clenched his jaw and gave a single shake of his head. “No sir.” 

Dr. Anderson set the tablet on the foot of his bed and braced his hands against the plasti footboard, giving him the ability to look at him straight on. “That’s not uncommon,” he assured, though Bradley felt nothing of the sort. 

The white coat looked back and forth from the two of you a few times, and Bradley didn’t like the look he had in his eyes when they settled on you for a longer moment before looking back at him again. 

“It’s come to my attention that the time you're missing means you may not remember being married. Is that correct?” 

Bradley gritted his teeth, but nodded. 

“I see.” The doctor seemed to weigh his words for a moment before he spoke again. “Perhaps, Lieutenant Commander, it may be best if we speak in private?”

A flash of anger flared through him at the suggestion. You startled next to him, sucking in a breath as your eyes widened at the words. That protective instinct he had in regards to you had a glare hardening on his face. “Excuse me?” 

“Bradley…” your voice was gentle, soft, and it had him settling just a little bit, but his eyes remained on the man in front of him. 

“I mean no offense. I want to do whatever I can here to help you get on the road to recovery, but in order to properly treat you, you need to be completely honest with how you’re feeling and your injuries. Having someone who is currently a stranger to you could very well impact that. Would you be more comfortable if she wasn’t in the room with us?” 

“She is sitting right there, and no, Doctor, I would not be more comfortable if she weren’t.” 

“Lieute-” 

“She’s staying.” 

Dr. Anderson sighed, which grated on Bradley’s already fraying nerves, but nodded. He proceeded to ask him question after question, inquiring about double vision and how bad his head hurt and if he was having any trouble with the range of motion in his neck. They went over all of his injuries again and what his path to healing realistically looked like. His body should heal with no problem, but his head was trickier. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no cure for amnesia,” he was told when he asked, and he hated how nonchalant the doctor was when delivering that news. “The brain is the most complex organ in the human body. You sustained a significant amount of trauma to it that would have been considerably worse if your helmet didn’t take a brunt of the hit. Quite frankly, you’re lucky to be alive, Lieutenant Commander.” 

Bradley couldn’t fight the urge to look over at you. You were already staring back at him. You tried your best to smile at him, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He hated that he was the one who put it there. It was overwhelming how much causing you hurt,hurt him in return. 

Another knock at the door sounded and Dr. Anderson waved in the nurse standing in the doorway with a wheelchair in front of her. 

“I want to take you down for another scan to check on the swelling you had. If it’s gone down more overnight, we’ll be able to get a better view of any damage that perhaps we didn’t see before. We’ll grab some updated blood work and do a few other cognitive tests while we’re at it. Jackie will get you all squared away and wheel you down there.”

He grabbed his tablet off of the bed where he set it earlier, giving Bradley a nod that he returned. Instead of immediately turning and exiting, though, he turned to you. 

“Mrs. Bradshaw? Could I have a word outside?”

Hearing you be called Mrs. Bradshaw nearly took the breath out of him. But no, Bradley thought, he didn’t like that idea. Not with the way the doctor had looked and spoken to you a few minutes ago. But the older nurse was already speaking to him, asking questions of her own while unhooking some of the machines he was connected to. You stood up, following Dr. Anderson out of the room without a word. Bradley couldn’t do anything more than watch you leave. The door shut behind you and he immediately felt on edge.

“It’s good to see you awake, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw,” she commented, helping him slowly swing his legs off the bed after she had raised him more upright and lowered the safety bars.  She held onto his arm and waist as he transferred from the bed to the wheelchair she had placed directly beside it. His ribs ached with the motion and his vision blurred as his head pounded. It took him a moment to catch his breath and he found himself having to then breathe through a wave of nausea. 

You walked back into the room right as the nurse was unlocking the wheels of the chair. Your face was desperately trying to remain neutral. 

“What?” he asked, the concern washing over him taking him by surprise. 

“Nothing,” you insisted. But Bradley knew you were lying. Your eyes gave you away. They were so expressive that he felt like he could almost see right through you. He knew you were upset and something he didn’t understand twisted in his chest that you were trying to keep that from him. 

“I’ll get him back to you in an hour or two, dear,” Nurse Jackie smiled at you as she wheeled him out of the room. 

Bradley was so tired of being cut off when he wanted to speak with you.

“You’ve certainly been a popular patient,” Nurse Jackie informed him as they waited for the elevator. 

“Ma’am?”

“That wife of yours has barely left your room, the poor thing. I think the furthest she’s gone is the cafeteria, and that’s only when she was coerced into doing it by your friends, and even then not for long.” 

“There’s been others here?” he asked, confused. 

“Oh, of course. There’s been a carousel of visitors in this room with usually one or two more in the waiting room. The two of you don’t lack love or support, I’ll tell you that.” 

That surprised him. He racked his brain trying to figure out who she could be referring to, but came up short once again. Bradley wasn’t close to many people. Making connections with people was hard in this line of work. He wasn’t usually in one place for long enough to have something genuine, friendships or otherwise. It was a sacrifice he was always content with, made easier by the fact that he bore so many emotional scars from all the love he lost early on in his life. He was man enough to admit that.

But yet here he was, being told that he apparently had so many people he was close to that his hospital room had become a revolving door. He had a hard time believing it.

The thought stuck with him when they got on the elevator and made their way down several floors. He went through the motions of it all, doing what was asked of him and answering all the questions he could, but his mind was elsewhere, searching for something he didn’t know. 

The machines scanning his brain made him feel claustrophobic. It was unfamiliar to him because he spent his days locked in the cockpit of a single-seater jet, yet he felt like he was aware of every inch of himself as he tried to lay as still as possible. He was becoming uncomfortable in his skin and feeling things he never did before. This wasn’t him and he couldn’t make sense of it. 

By the time he was being wheeled back down the hallway to his room, three hours later, the thoughts had festered so much that they etched a tight scowl on his face. The testing should have only taken an hour at most, which irritated him further. 

It didn’t help that you were on the phone with someone when the Nurse, a different one whose name he couldn’t remember, pushed him through the door, only to quickly hang up once you spotted him. 

“How’d it go?” you asked, and the nurse was answering for him before he could even process the question.  

“Just fine, ma’am.” The response was curt. Bradley watched your face fall at the tone the nurse gave you, lacking the kindness that Nurse Jackie had when she took him away. 

“I’m going to help him get cleaned up and changed,” the nurse continued, stopping him near the bed and locking the wheels on the chair so that it wouldn’t move. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Right. I uh-I can get out of the way.” 

“You don’t have to go,” Bradley said, meeting your eyes for the first time since this interaction began.

“It’s okay,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you grabbed the duffle you had shown him earlier and set it on the bed. “I um..I’ll leave you to it and be back in a few minutes, okay?” 

It wasn’t okay, but he didn’t feel like he had a right to feel like that, so he nodded instead. “Alright.” 

The process of getting something akin to a sponge bath and into new clothes was painfully uncomfortable for him. The nurse didn’t say much as she helped him, only giving him direction when she needed him to move a certain way or checking in to ask about his pain level if he flinched too hard. 

That part of him that he didn’t recognize wished you had stayed and helped him instead. 

By the time he was settled back in his hospital bed, he was tired and in pain. The nurse administered him another dose of painkillers before she made her exit. 

Bradley decided he preferred Nurse Jackie from earlier in the day. 

He tried his best to relax into the bed, focusing on keeping his body still until the drugs kicked in. He rested his hands over his stomach and paused. For the first time since he had been helped into them, he looked down at what it was he was wearing. 

He knew this t-shirt. It was soft and well worn, a UVA logo faded with time. It was one he had had since college. He wondered if it was a coincidence or if you had requested this specific one, knowing he’d recognize it. The thought eased some of the frustration he felt, but it didn’t go away completely. 

Bradley didn’t like feeling helpless and out of control of himself, and that’s exactly what he was right now. 

You said you would only be gone for a few minutes and he wanted to stay awake so he could talk to you, to maybe finally get a few answers, but the exhaustion from moving around mixed with the pain medication finally kicking in had him drifting off to sleep, your face and name cycling through his mind. 

--------

Part Three :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

*Part 4 and beyond are also on the masterlist!

Notes: Don't forget to comment & reblog! It's so unbelievably motivating.

Tagging those who asked or interacted with part one. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-unerthesun - @avengersfan25

[fleursbending]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. | Sully Family

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : instead of lo’ak being the one diving into the sinking ship, it was you - neteyam’s twin sister. pushed by the sheer amount of adrenaline in your system, you desperately search for your family. knowing you cannot handle losing anymore of them as well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter (neteyam's twin sister)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : heavy on the dad!jake x reader & brotherly lo'ak in this. is this me trying to stake my claim as becoming one of your fave sully!daughter writers? yes, it is!! seriously uhmmm prep your tissues for your daddy issues! yes, that was a purposeful rhyme. & sorry didn't rlly proofread this!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, mentions of grief, loss, death, protective and emotionally exhausted reader :(, ure gonna cry because i love pain. hurt/comfort, angst.

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Tsmuke - sister, Tsmukan - brother, Iarsä - Y/n's Ilus name, Yawntutsyìp - darling or little loved one.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k words !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hi my beloveds! thank you for all the support on this <3 part 2 can be read: here!

𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, the cries of her mother muffled to her ears that lay flat on her head. Her other half, her twin brother. The eldest, born only 7 minutes apart, was no longer there. There had come a time when his presence was so natural, no questions asked - no alarming feeling. He was always her shadow, and if not. Neteyam was there in an instant at her beck and call. 

They were both spitting images of their mother, they even shared her same deep spiritual connection with Eywa. Even their songcords aligned with each other. Y/n remembers then, how her mother had said such occurrences only really happen with twins. That in itself was a rarity for their clan. 

Now he was gone, yet she remained. The shadow that loomed over her, escaped as the Eclipse crept up on them.

You blink once, twice. Wiping the tears that you didn’t even realize were streaming down your face. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Lo’ak blankly gazing down at his hands which were coated in Neteyam’s blood. She scoots closer to him then, ripping the fringes of her loin-cloth off and dipping it into the water. 

If Lo’ak notices the shakiness of her hands, he doesn’t comment on it. It feels like his tongue had been stapled to the roof of his mouth at that very moment. Alas, his tender heart squeezes a fraction as you use the fabric to try to wipe away the remnants of blood.

A rough voice coming from your father cuts through the sentimental moment.

“Where are your sisters?” He’s not intentionally glaring, but his eyes alone felt like he was picking through your soul.

“Your sisters, where are they?” He repeats, more urgency detected in his tone now.

“I don’t know.” Lo’ak mumbles, every part of him looking lost.

Your mother's cries of terror grow in volume then. 

“Where are they!” Jake bellowed, time was of the essence. Now more than ever. 

“Dad,” Y/n whines out, wishing for him to just take a moment. 

His eyes meet yours for a moment, before breaking away. He couldn’t look at you right now, doing so would make him lose all of his resolves. Jake had to stay locked, just for a few more moments. Then he’ll have the chance to mourn, to bring you into his arms. To apologize for how now you must live the same faith he had to endure and suffer through.

“On the ship, they are tied up on the ship.” Tsireya wavers, her grip on Neteyam’s leg not letting up.

Spider's mouth moves, but you don’t hear a thing. Turning back to your brother, you hover over him. Neytiri leans into you as she cradles him to her chest. 

Jake gets your mom’s attention, and by doing so she passes Neteyam to you. Y/n freezes up, feeling how cold he is. Seeing how pale he is. This isn’t her mighty brother, it was a shell of him. 

As Neytiri flies away on her Ikran, the sound of its wings breaks you out of your reverie. Gently, you lay him back down on the rock before pushing yourself up. Staggering over to Lo’aks side, he pulls you into him. 

Usually, he’d nag about your height difference, but this time he used it to his advantage to briefly tuck his head into your shoulder. 

Jake looks to Lo’ak. “Both of you, stay with your brother.” 

Lo’ak takes a step forward, bringing you with him. 

“But dad, I want to go with you,” Lo’ak whispers. 

“Please, dad,” Y/n begs, unable to fathom sitting by her deceased twin while her sisters were still in harm's way.

Jake shakes his head, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad,” Lo’ak breaks. A part of him cracks, the guilt and shame consuming him.

Y/n places a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some support. 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, brother,” Y/n spoke, catching on to where his mind was heading.

There you watch as your dad and Spider become one with the water. Y/n moves back to kneel down beside Tsireya, as she cradles Neteyam’s face and gives him a light kiss on his forehead.

Lo’ak takes one last glance at his brother before reluctantly tugging on your arm. 

Y/n regards him with uncertainty. Before you can question him though, he caresses the side of Tsireya’s face for a second. “Stay with him.”

Tsireya flounders, “No!”

He rushes to the edge of the rock, and you can only wince as you apologize to Tsireya for your and Lo’aks actions. 

“I’m sorry, Tsireya.” 

She tries to shout for you guys to come back, but it’s too late. You’re already both calling for your Ilu’s as you jump into the ocean. 

Iarsä swam right beneath you, and in an instant, you are gripping her tightly and making tsaheylu. Deep in your brain, you wondered if Neteyam’s Ilu felt the loss you do. What about his Ikran? Oh, Eywa.

“Tsmuke!” Lo’ak called for you as you started to lag behind a little. 

Quickening your pace, you moved by him. His worried eyes flittered over to yours.

“Tsukan, I am fine.” You tried to reassure him, but you know he saw through it all. 

His lips pulled down into a frown, but he knew now wasn’t the time to comment back to you.

Either way, he is interrupted by the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth. The ship isn’t too far from you guys now, but it’s beginning to flip over and sink down. 

Lo’ak guided you closer to the ship, haphazardly avoiding miscellaneous floating objects. 

“That’s Spider and Kiri!” Lo’ak blurted out, his finger pointing at two figures bobbing up and down in the water. 

Y/n nods, as Lo’ak yips to alert them that they are here. 

“Bro!” A light flashes in your eyes, and it’s coming from Spider. 

A sigh of relief escapes you seeing Kiri alright, but you can still see how distraught she looks. It physically hurts you not to tell her what had just happened, but time was escaping you all even more quickly.

Kiri watches the Ship fully engulfed by the ocean. She trembled, “Mom and dad are down there, in the ship!”

An alarm rings like an insistent bell in your mind. Of course, no wonder they were alone.

But where is Tuk? Y/n’s conscience is on overdrive, the exhaustion is gnawing at her heavily. She’d get nowhere like this, tackle one thing at a time. That’s what she needs to do. 

“Grab on- Y/n!” Lo’ak protested as you descended further into the murky waters. Except it was too late, she was already gone. 

Y/n’s eyes squinted as the water pulled at her skin due to the high speeds she was going at. In spite of that, it did not matter. Nothing mattered more than saving whatever was left of her family. 

Darting into the first opening of the ship you are able to squeeze through, not without realising the spaces were far too cramped to navigate your Ilu through. With that, you reluctantly release her. 

The further you descended, the more effort it took to be able to examine your surroundings. You can feel your chest starting to tighten just a little. However, Y/n notices a faint outline of an avatar body ahead of her. 

It takes every willpower within her to not weep at the sight of your dad twitching against a part of the collapsing ship. Jumping into action, wrapping both of your arms around one of his. Then you tug as hard as you can, back from where you had just come from.

You recalled the air pocket you encountered not too long ago. Yes, that will work for now. 

The closer you grew to your destination, the more your dad fidgeted in your tight grasp. Then, his arms reached up. 

Y/n and Jake exhale as they break through the surface.

“Dad?” She whimpers her heart, sinking as Jake struggles to catch his breath. 

He clutches onto the side of the wall, his chest rising up and down far too rapidly. 

“Dad, please. Take a few deep breaths!” She falters when trying to approach him, scared to jolt him even more.

He groans, eyes bleary, “Neteyam?”

It felt like an axe had been wedged in your heart. You’ve dealt with far too much in a span of few hours.

“No, dad. It’s Y/n”

“Oh, Y/n…you just look so much like him.” He struggles to say.

Y/n clenches her eyes closed in despair. She knew that voice, it was the one he’d use to try to weave out of something. Sugarcoating, he had told you when you were younger. 

She couldn’t help but weigh on the thought that he probably thought he was dead and with Eywa. 

Sighing, her hand presses into her face. “Sorry, I know. You and ma always say that.” 

In a blink of an eye, profound guilt encapsulates her very being. Once again, Y/n has been reminded of Neteyam. What she has lost, what she must now grieve.

Gulping, her voice stammered “I’m sorry, sir. His death was all my fault. I should have done better.”

Jake’s heart lurches at your words, being reminded of Tommy. 

“Focus, just focus on getting out.” He coughs as the lights behind you flicker. The ship's loud groans rattle in both of your ears. 

“Okay, okay,” Y/m mumbles to herself. Analyzing her surroundings, she realizes the water is rising at a quicker pace. Dammit.

“We’re losing air pockets, dad. Come on, let’s go,” She insisted.

Jake lets out sounds of pain as he moves into the corner.

“You know your way out?” He inquires. Before you look at him with a scrutinizing gaze he takes you in with all his pride. His daughter, his first-ever daughter. 

Ah, there it is. Furrowed brows and all. 

“I think so. But dad, you’re gonna have to hold your breath for a while. Okay?” She responded, ignoring the ache in her limbs. 

You lean into him then, thumbing the blood seeping out from one of the cuts on his face. 

Just like he’d do to you when you were little, an action so simple whenever you’d hurt yourself. Something you inhabited from him. 

That’s exactly why he can’t keep you here. You still had so much more to live for.

“I can’t make it, but you can. You can, you can.” 

You speak over the top of him, anguish spreading across your facial features. “No, no-no, dad!”

The tone in your voice pitches, conveying the desperation you felt right at that moment. 

“I refuse, I can’t lose you too. Not you, dad.” She says vehemently. So much finality had been wrapped into that sentence, and he knew that you weren’t going to move. 

If he can’t make it, then you weren’t leaving his side. You’re going to stay right here.

He rapidly blinks his eyes, finally clearing his vision properly. 

Ignoring the pounding from his head, he looks at you. Truly examining you. 

The face you hold at that moment is the deepest wound to strike him yet from today. 

Just now, he can see how mature you’ve become in a span of less than a day. It left him with such scorching indignation. No kid should have to grow up this quickly, but the unique circumstances brought upon your family had forced you to do so.

There are tears running down your face, and the seawater should mask it well. But he’s your father, he knows. He can see you clutching something tightly in your hands then. It feels like cinder blocks had been pushed against his gut when he recognizes it to be one of Neteyam’s armbands. 

Y/n follows his eyes, unclenching her first. He was right.

She swallows, lips trembling. “It was floating in the ship close to where you were before, maybe it was a sign from him. He was letting me know you were close. I didn’t even realize when it floated into my hand. It must have slipped off before he…”

A deep frown settles on Jake’s face whilst hearing you get choked up. He kicks his legs, ignoring the throbbing feeling spreading through his body. 

He leans his head on top of yours. 

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.” He coos.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to calm down. 

After he pressed his lips to your forehead, you lean back from him.

“We’re running out of time. Okay, you need to be really calm. Breathe down from here.” You press your hand to his lower chest. Mimicking the breathing you learned not too long ago from your dear friend Tsireya.

He follows you, pursing his lips. Inhaling, exhaling.

You close your eyes.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end.

The sea is around you and in you. 

The sea is your home before your birth, and after your death.”

Your eyes open, watching Jake take your words in. He tries his absolute hardest to ease his mind, just like you had done moments ago.

Good, he’s doing good.

Y/n continues. 

“The sea gives, and the sea takes. 

Water connects all things.

Life to death, darkness to light.”

The water is now up to your chin, even as you tilt your head up.

“Dad, you can do this. Please.” 

He nods his head, “I’m with you, Y/n.”

The words bring you great comfort, your heart now being able to lessen some of its burdens.

Y/n finally smiles. 

“Okay, last breath. I love you, dad.” 

He winces at the prickling pain but manages to give you a smile in return.

“I love you too, my daughter.”

With that, both of you breathe in before going underwater.

You start the treacherous journey out of here, doing your best to retrace the directions you had mapped out in your mind. Making sure to occasionally check back on your dad as you hurdle through random objects that stuck out. 

Y/n looks behind her shoulder once again, easing up when she sees Jake not too far behind. 

With a motion of your hand, you wordlessly say “follow me”. A reminder that maybe wasn’t needed, but you had to feed your dad some courage. 

Your chest begins to constrict a little, but you try to keep your mind elsewhere. 

You thank Eywa as you see the exit, holding on to the bar as you reach your hand out.

Jake latches on to it as you swim through the opening. There you both try to seamlessly get out from the remainder of the ship. The gap between you and the surface lessening. 

But Jake begins to slow down significantly. Immediately worried, you wrap your arms around him. Chugging over your limit as you pull him up with you.

Y/n starts to hear the muffled noises of her dad starting to choke. 

No, no, no. We’re almost there.

A gush of movement is felt from behind you both.

Lo’ak is holding onto Payakan’s fin, using his free arm he darts out to grab your elbow. He tugs you to him. 

There, you and Jake are able to hold on to the Tulkun for further momentum. 

The cool air nips at your cheeks as you finally break through the water. 

“Hang on, both of you! Breathe, breathe.” Lo’ak urges as he quickly holds your face to see if you’re alright. 

Y/n bows her head and then goes to personally thank Payakan for saving their lives.

“I see you, son.” She hears, there you gaze as Lo’ak and Jake share a bittersweet moment. 

However, right behind them, you see familiar figures moving closer to you all.

“Ma Jake!” Neytiri called.

“Dad, dad!” Tuk cried.

“Mom!” You and Lo’ak gushed.

“Come here, I have you. It’s Okay.”

“Tuk, Kiri.” She whispers to herself, finally allowing relief to invade her senses.

Your mother leans over, squeezing both your and Lo’aks hands. 

But you needed more.

Pushing off of Paykan's fin, you swim over to where Neytiri and Tuk was. 

Neytiri grabs you swiftly, letting you fall into the makeshift circle.

“Oh, my yawntutsyìp. My sweet, sweet child.” She mumbles, repeatedly kissing your cheek. 

She could not even begin to fathom the loss you have yet to fully process and grieve for. 

Another person in the Sully family tree had lost a sibling today. 

“Tsmukan, Tsmuke.” Kiri too leans forward in concern. 

You just give her a solemn smile, grateful that almost all of you were safe and alive.

She watches her parents embrace before her eyes loom over the empty gap in their family huddle.

It felt like only yesterday how Neteyam would always pinch her and Lo’aks ears, “Why are you guys always forgetting our family meetings?”

Huddling closer to one another, while unspoken you each know this event was something that would drastically change all of your lives forever.

“Sully’s stick together. That was their greatest weakness, and their greatest strength.”

“Thank you, great mother,” Kiri speaks up into the sky.

“Yes.” Neytiri echoes. 

Lo’ak gazed at you, then to the sky above. 

Y/n followed his actions. She was hoping to each mighty being above, that Neteyam was safe and sound. No longer in pain or danger. That was the least her dear brother deserves. 

As everyone loosened their holds, your parents did the opposite. Instead, they brought you into their arms.

There, they cried with you. Finally having a chance to mourn the loss of your twin, their son.

From above and with Eywa, Neteyam looked down at you all with questioning eyes.

“Why are they all crying, great mother?” He asked, not being able to understand the entirety of the situation that occurred before him.

Eywa can only give him a saddened smile. 

“Because my child, they are grateful to have known you.”

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Could you do a fic where the water boys, (aonoung and roxto) save a sully!reader kid from one of the poisonous things? Like she's exploring similar to how Kiri does in the water and is about to touch a poisonous one and they grab her away?? Just a comfort teaching fic about the metkayina wildlife

Love your fics btw <3

(Gif not mine)

Pairing: Ao'nung/Female!Sully!Reader/Rotxo (Platonic)

Warnings: none

Taglist: @alinacecee @mooniequeen

A/N: Another short but hopefully sweet request <3 Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

Tsireya had looked around the moment Rotxo mentioned Kiri was missing, only to find another girl was missing other than Tuk, "Has anyone seen Y/n?"

"Not another one," Ao'nung rolled his eyes, "How many of you Forest People tend to wander?"

Lo'ak's eyes narrow as they land on the reef boy, "Shut up, bro."

"We can split up and look for them," Neteyam quickly takes charge, likely to break whatever tension was straining between his brother and the chief's son. 

Tsireya liked the idea and offered to take Tuk with her while Neteyam took Lo'ak. As the group of children split up, Rotxo urges Ao'nung to follow him and together the two friends take a deep breath and dive down toward the reef below, looking around for the missing Sully sisters.

It took some time, but they stumbled across you first, the teenaged forest girl aimlessly swimming around the reef, admiring the various different fish and colors without a care in the world, unaware of the reef Na'vi who have taken notice of you. Rotxo and Ao'nung swam leisurely toward you, watching as you inched close to one particular coral, with long, purple soft-looking arms that gently floated with the current, and at the center bore tiny, acid-colored tentacles. You appeared entranced by the peculiar coral and reached an arm out to it. Only then did the reef boys pick up their speed in their panic.  

Rotxo makes a deep grunting sound in the back of his throat, twice, to get your attention. When you didn't hear, Ao'nung speeds forward as quickly as possible, swimming as fast as he could. The moment he was in reach, he reached out and roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the coral and startling you. 

Whipping your head around at your assailant, alarmed until you realized who was holding onto your arm, then you glared at Ao'nung and pulled away. Your eyes wander until they find Rotxo, who then uses his hands and arms to try and communicate one simple word to you. Ao'nung only rolls his eyes when you tilt your head in confusion, closely watching Rotxo sign until you respond by shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head, before pointing up to the surface.

The three of you simultaneously swim up and the moment you break the surface, Ao'nung is scowling at you, "What were you thinking, forest freak? Wandering by yourself when you clearly know nothing about our home?"

"Take it easy, Ao'nung." Rotxo defends.

Already used to Ao'nung's distaste of you and your family, you choose to ignore him and only address his kind friend, "What were you trying to say to me down there?"

"I was trying to tell you it stings."

You tilt your head in curiosity, "What stings?"

"The coral you almost touched. It is called 'fantail'. It stings."

"Oh." You take a moment to absorb the new information before deciding to be courteous and turn to Ao'nung, "Thank you for stopping me."

The chief's son doesn't expect the gratitude, eyes widening a fraction before he covers up his shock with a scoff, looking away, "Next time, I'll just let you do it. Maybe you will learn your lesson."

Ao'nung then turns and starts to swim away, back the way he and Rotxo had come looking for you. As you watch him go, Rotxo paddles up to you with an amused smirk, 

"Don't mind him. He usually gets that angry when he's scared."

"Scared?" You spin back to Rotxo, "Why was he scared?"

"Ao'nung doesn't like watching pretty girls get hurt."

Warmth spreads up the back of your neck and over your face, eyes immediately darting down to avoid the pleasant grin on the reef boy's face. Flustered, you mumble under your breath, "Or maybe Ao'nung doesn't like getting in trouble if someone gets hurt under his watch."

Rotxo laughs, but it isn't mocking or cruel. The reef boy's laugh was a soft, sweet chime that was followed by a genuine smile, "Stick around us a little more, Y/n, and you'll see what I mean. Just-- avoid the fantail from now on, okay?"

The smile you offered was shy, but a promise, nonetheless, "You got it."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Tbh, while I was researching for this, I couldn't find any sea life that was poisonous and harmful to Na'vi lol. I checked every wiki page and my atwow visual dictionary and couldn't find anything other than the fantail coral. It has stinging tentacles for catching zooplankton, but it doesn't mention whether or not the Metkayina avoids it. So, for the sake of the story, we'll use it 🤣 But if anyone has a better flora or fauna option I could've used, let me know cause I swear I looked everywhere.

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[mae-gi-writes]

everything that i'll never be | kim mingyu . seventeen

You'll never be his first and that bothers you, that she had his heart before you ever did.

genre: angst, relationship problems, insecure! reader. Mentions of self-harm.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

She's so much better than you. In so many ways.

There's no way you can compete. You're not even competition to her. Come on, it's almost as if trying to compare a Ferrari to a stupidly tiny honda that would break down whenever it had to breach the motorway.

This is how envious you are of the girl that once had your boyfriend's heart.

And you hate yourself for it, because every argument that arises is because of that sole reason; you can't stand the thought of her having him first. You can't stand the thought that Mingyu had the opportunity, all his firsts, with a girl that was someone other than you.

Which is why the words suddenly fly out of your mouth one day without warning.

"How was she like? Your ex?"

The words sound raw and painful, even coming from your mouth. You hate it. You hate yourself the most at this particular moment. Even more so when Mingyu stops in mid-action and blinks at you like you've just told him you'd committed a first-degree murder.

It's not that it's surprising. It's just that-- more so -- it's been six years. Six years already, and you still haven't gotten over it. So there is, ultimately, a problem. With you.

Mingyu lowers the knife he's been using to chop the carrots into tiny thin slices. He suggested bringing duck to your annual family dinner this Christmas, which you thought was a good idea, until you realized the amount of preparation that came along with it.

So here you are, on a beautiful 24th December night with the snow falling like soft petals along the sky line, making sure that the duck that you've put into the oven a few minutes ago isn't roasting itself to death.

"Why are you asking now?" is Mingyu's question.

You shrug half-heartedly in an attempt to show him that it isn't that much of a big deal whether he answers your question or not. Though it is, as you keep your eyes trailed on the timer on your phone, "I had a nightmare," you admit.

"About?" his eyebrow raises a fraction, body stilling to await your answer.

You struggle to find something coherent, put together, that doesn't sound so lame once you say it out loud because god forbid it is the most childish thing to think of when it's been six years of your relationship.

And yet, she's still the gap, that empty space, that lingers between the two of you like the unsaid corpse filling the room.

"About you," you pause, "and her."

Mingyu lets out a soft breath, "Y/N, we can't be having this conversation six years down the line. I love you, and I'm with you--"

"I know that." he doesn't have to talk to you like you're a child.

"Then why are you still on about her when clearly you're the one I've chosen to be with for the rest of my life?" the hurt in his voice is real and it makes your heart ache with guilt. You shouldn't have asked him anything in the first place. You know, more than anyone, that Mingyu would steal the moon for you had you asked for it. It's undoubtable, the love that he bears for you, the way his eyes find yours across the room like you're the sun that makes his earth rotate.

He continues now, pent-up frustration laced in his alto. Almost like he's about to cry, "it hurts me too, to hear you talk about her over and over again. It gets tiring after a while, Y/N. I'm tired of it, honestly."

"Alright," tears prick at your eyelids but you refuse to blink, gaze permanently latched onto the oven as you fight against the flood of emotion building in the pit of your stomach, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you anything, but--"

"it's not doing you any good either. So why do you do this to yourself? What triggered it?" he's on a roll now, not caring what you have scrambled for an answer, the need to hear your reason a priority in comparison to the millions of excuses you have stacked up against your tongue, "because this isn't about just the nightmare, is it? You've mentioned her at least once during these two weeks and I--I'm tired of it, Y/N. I don't want to keep going through that. She's a part of my past and yes, we were in love once. But I don't love her anymore. You're the one I chose to be with," he holds up the peeler and the carrot in evidence, "isn't that exactly what I'm doing right now? Why do you have to ruin this for us?"

"I--" his speech hits you like a truck. You hadn't expected Mingyu to just spit out his feelings without filter or remorse, which makes it even worse as you try to struggle and comprehend what his words mean exactly. The ache in your chest grows. For a moment, you can't breath, the soft pants stinging the back of your throat as it burns with effort of restraining tears.

You swallow thickly, harsh gulps of air that makes you shudder. Finally, you manage to whisper out a soft, "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have bought this up. You're right. I'm just--I'm just a walking time bomb and I'm pathetic--" you shake your head, the tears now spilling down your cheeks as you bite down onto your lower lip. You catch sight of Mingyu's stance faltering ever so slightly, but you move back, as if the physical distance might help you keep your broken heart in check, '--I'm really sorry, Mingyu."

You don't wait for him to answer before you're swiveling on your feet and dashing through the open doorway of your bathroom. It's not much, but it's enough physical space for you to lock the door and slide down onto the floor.

You let the sobs take over, your shoulders hunching over your knees as you start crying. Once you do, you can't stop. You can't.

Because the truth is, you're scared.

You're scared that you'll never be enough for Mingyu and that -- whatever happened in the ktichen -- is the exact proof of that. You're not her. She's --gentle and kind and just agrees to everything that Mingyu ays without putting up a fight. And they made a cute couple, and she's prettier. Prettier than you'll ever be and you wonder what Mingyu even saw in you in the first place.

And she's his first. Will always be his first. Something that you'll never be, no matter how hard you try.

You're so focused on feeling your body shatter with tears and pain and guilt from the past that you don't hear Mingyu's voice until he starts knocking against the door.

"Please," he murmurs, "can we just talk?"

"I'm fine," you blubber out, "please just leave me alone. I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you, what I meant was--"

"I know already, Mingyu. Just stop." you sniffle and wipe your snot with the back of your hand, "I got it. It's me. I'm the problem. I'll always be the problem."

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth--"

"Just leave me alone." And as if that might help, you whisper, "please." So he does. you hear his footsteps retract after a few beats of agonizing silence, and when he does walk away, you slump back into a small puddle of broken pieces of your heart as you try to hold it all together.

But it's not a memory that you can erase with just a few beers or some good sleep. It's a stain that will last forever, and you're not quite sure how you'll deal with that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hey Y/N?"

Your head rises from the slump of your arms. You're not quite sure how long you've been in the bathroom.

Mingyu knocks. You let out a sigh, but don't say anything. Nothing feels right at the moment, no words can seem to fill the empty, now awkward space between you and Mingyu.

"Y/N, I can leave you alone if you want," he pauses, "but...do you mind if I use the bathroom? I kinda...need to pee."

Fuck. Of course. Just when you're about to lose your mind and go on an existential crisis.

You unlock the bathroom after a beat of silence, not even bothering to look up at his face as you sidestep your boyfriend and make your way to the couch. You plop down onto it, hearing the sound of the door shut close as you find your usual navy blanket. It's warm and comforting, wrapping you up in its warmth as the toilet flushes, Mingyu's coughs reaching the living room area. The scent of roasted duck fills the room and you sniff appreciatively. Despite it all, it seems that the food has survived, a proof that no matter how much humans may suffer, they could still go about and do their things right.

"Y/N."

You jump slightly, turning your head in his direction but allowing your eyes to stray along his shirt. The silence answers in your stead.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrug once more. How are you even supposed to feel?

It's a weird contortion of things that make you want to hurl the living room chair at the tv and one that makes you want to curl up in bed and cry and cry and cry.

The couch dips under Mingyu's weight once he joins you on the couch. Still, you don't look at him, rather deciding that picking on your nails is a better option.

"Y/N," he says once more, before his big hand is reaching for yours and stopping your actions with a gentle grip, "don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

"That's the whole point," you mutter to yourself, though it's not quiet enough that he doesn't pick on it.

He squeezes your hand in response, "we talked about this before, didn't we? The nervous hand-picking."

"Can you just--" your voice raises, as if in a holler, only to die mid-way up your throat. You slump against the couch. You're tired and overwhelmed, and it shows.

The silence seems to stretch out before you, with only the slow hum of the fridge keeping you company as you keep on staring at the blank tv screen. How have you come to this? How are you fighting about someone that isn't even in the picture anymore?

Ah yes, because you decided to re-open that door and let yourself wonder, picture, your boyfriend with the likes of her when you know it's only going to induce more pain.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or how to feel,” Mingyu starts, his voice shattering the silence like glass. “But just so that you know, every time you talk about this — about her — it hurts me too, because she’s not my present and I’m not in love with her, not anymore. You talking about it makes me uncomfortable,” he peers over at your face, “do you understand that, Y/N?” He says it gently, all his words without bite.

“Then maybe if you had just talked it through with me without avoiding my questions all the time, maybe we wouldn’t be here,” you shoot back, “maybe you like to take the easy way out a little too much.”

“I did give you the chance to talk about it. Remember that night when I told you to ask me anything about her that you wanted to know about?”

Another onset of tears builds at the back of your throat. Why is he doing this to you? What have you ever done to deserve this?

You turn away from him almost instinctively. This time, Mingyu lets you do your thing, not even bothering to try and call your name and honestly, you don’t mind. You need some space to cry it out and be with yourself for a little while.

There’s so much you want to tell him: why did he even break up with her in the first place? Why did he choose you instead? Would things have been different if you hadn’t told him of your feelings?

Would you have been happier right now, if you’d never been together?

ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s been a few days and you feel like a corpse.

Your life is a walking nightmare, your mind plagued by nothing but the pain of realizing you’re a second option to your boyfriend. You wish that he could walk in your shoes, only to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your head. In any case, life feels dull and void of colour in contrast to the lights blazing across the streets to celebrate the new year’s coming up.

Mingyu doesn’t offer to talk it through and you take it as his way of telling you he’s not interested in your bullshit. So wrapping yourself up in your thickest blanket, you barely leave the flat on the days to come, if only for groceries. After all, you don’t see the point when your world is crumbling.

It’s on a Wednesday afternoon that Mingyu sends you a text while he’s at work. You receive it in mid-workout, frowning slightly as the message pops up on the screen.

Mingyu: do you have time this afternoon? Can we talk?

You type back your reply with a mere “yes” before resuming your squats with even more conviction. You decide that you have to brace yourself for anything that might happen, considering that you really did fuck up this time.

Will your heart be able to take it if he tells you to break it off?

All thoughts and memories of what would be your wedding, the concepts you’d conjured, the white dress that you’d fantasized over. All those things seem awash with the pain of knowing that maybe this won’t become a reality.

That hurts.

The afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace and you spend it lumbering back and forth across the hallway as your brain tricks you into concocting all possible scenarios that might unfold; you and Mingyu breaking up is at the forefront of your mind, no matter how much you try to steer yourself away from it.

The door creaks open to signal Mingyu’s arrival. You freeze, fingers finding purchase onto your shirt as you grip its corners, panic suddenly overwhelming your senses.

He’s here, and he hasn’t greeted you yet.

You’re not sure how your heart will take it.

“Y/N?”

The scuff of his boots squeak against the silence of the corridor as he pulls them off. Small a small gesture, which holds so much meaning once you realize you might never hear it again.

You force out a reply, “yes?”

A few moments later, your boyfriend appears looking disheveled and, to your surprise, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Sorry if they’re a bit wimpy,” he says sheepishly while handing the flowers over, and you hope he hasn’t taken note of how your hands are trembling, “I was late to pick them up from the florist’s.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at him, eyelashes glimmering as your vision slowly blurred, “why?” You murmured.

“Because,” he shrugs then, a small gentle smile making its way to his face, “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

You couldn’t help it.

You burst into tears.

And Mingyu holds on to you as you sob and soband keep on sobbing. All the pain, the fear of losing him, the thought of never being enough… all of these mesh into you and cras through your body in waves that rocks your entire ecosystem. Mingyu is there through it all, murmuring soft encouraging words as he rocks you back and forth against his chest.

The crying stops at some point, leaving you numb and tired, a slumped figure that leans against your boyfriend while he’s gently pawing away at the caked tears along your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur out, breaths shaking from emotion.

But Mingyu shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not—okay, and I shouldn’t have acted this way,” you whisper out, “and I’m sorry if I keep pestering you about her but the truth is, I’m scared I might never be enough for you, Mingyu, because I’m not. You—You deserve everything.”

Mingyu stays silent, still brushing the tears away as you wait for his answer. He finally turns you to him, holds you close in his lap so that there’s no chance of escape even if you wanted to.

In his dark eyes tou see your reflection; a disheveled maniac looking like she’s been haunted for days.

Mingyu probably thinks so too.

“I understand,” he starts off softly, “how hard it is for you to imagine me with other people, it sucks. And it’s not great, especially when you know these people.”

Your chest aches, another pang of hurt ringing through your heart at the mention of her. You suck in a breath, but he continues:

“But I think otherwise. I think she made me realize that maybe, she’s not what I want, nor what I need,” something softens in his eyes then, hands squeezing your waist, “what I need is right here, and nowhere else, Y/N. So you can cry about not being the first, but trust me, I want to make you my last.”

Another sob racks its way up your throat. You blink furiously, hands finding purchase onto your sweater sleeves to bunch it up nervously, “do you—“ you stammer out the words, “do you mean that?”

Mingyu nods, the softest of smiles on his face, as your hands come up to wrap around his neck.

“You’re sure sure?” You peer up at him.

He chuckles, “I’m hundred percent sure.”

And proceeds to kiss your next words away as if to seal the deal, to show you that yes, you are the woman he’s been waiting for, the only one he’ll ever have to wait for.

Maybe that’s just a baby step in your world. You will have more days like this, more days of insecurity and fear and straight up panic. That’s not something that you fix overnight.

But for Mingyu, you’ll try anything to make your happy ending.

[galedekarios]

Idk if you’ve been asked before but what are your thoughts on EARLY early access Gale? The Gale that has bandages on his arm in some early promotional art? There’s an old Auntie Ethel vicious mockery line for him: “I can smell what’s under those bandages wizard! You’re all rot and ruin.” I always wondered if the orb was originally going to have nastier side effects. Like it was making Gale fall apart slowly OR maybe Gale was trying to become a Lich to better handle the orb before being abducted by the mind flayers so he’s in this half alive and undead state when Tav meets him. I feel like that last one would explain the necrotic damage he emits when he dies better. Anyways those are just two tiny details that I roll around in my mind from time to time. I might be thinking too deeply about it. Maybe the writers just wanted to figure out a way to show how much the orb was hurting Gale and the bandages were a start but for some reason they decided against it.

i loved early access gale. there were a lot of uncharitable reads / bad faith takes about him back then, ranging from him being the secret bbeg, the ultimate and guaranteed betrayer, the absolute, to being myrkul because he had a triangles on the robe he was wearing (no, i'm not joking), etc etc etc.

personally, i always loved his character, though, and found him the most interesting and intriguing out of the companions.

overall, i think that he's not that much changed - however, as with all companions and a lot of the npcs, some things have been whittled down or away entirely by larian due things like fandom feedback, but that's a discussion for another time.

i don't subscribe to the lich idea myself, because i think that's not something that gale would want for himself for a multitude of reasons. having said that, however, i always enjoyed this theory:

so, early access gale had this key art, which is still one of my favourites:

left hand wrapped in bandages, the almost stone-like texture of what little you can see of his skin.

adding to that, as you also mentioned, ethel had these vicious mockery lines for gale:

Auntie Ethel: I can smell what's under those bandages, wizard. You're all rot and ruin.

and

Auntie Ethel: Come to greet death early? You'll be a lovely spectacle.

to add to this, this was the way gale talked about the orb and what he thought it was, as well as karsus:

Player: I was wondering about that “mighty lord” you told me about in your story. Gale: Ah, yes. Karsus Karsus was perhaps the most powerful wizard that ever lived. The child-who-would-be-a-god, the elves called him. And he tried. With a spell of his own devising he endeavoured to usurp in one fell swoop the power of the goddess of magic.  Mystryl, she was called then. Imagine what it must have felt like. To be a god. To know yourself to be untouchable. To be mistaken. As Karsus aimed his spell at her she began to unravel, and with her, the entire Weave. Too late did he realize what he had unleashed. It would have been the end of everything had not Mystryl sacrificed herself.  Gale: The goddess of magic is all magic. By dying, the entire weave was lost, and the spell that challenged a god failed. It was the end of Mystryl, the end of Karsus, and the end of an entire civilization. As the child-who-would-be-a-god was turned to stone, his empire came crashing down around him. The floating cities of Netheril were no more. An event that came to be known as Karsus' folly. Player: So at that moment in time, all magic was gone?  Gale: For a spell. Mystyl was reborn as Mystra. Upon her return, the Weave returned with her.  Gale: Now, so many centuries later, I tried to follow in the footsteps of Karsus, not to destroy Mystra, but to prove my love for her. I tried to control only a fraction of the magic that was unleashed that fateful day. I merely sought to return one tiny diamond to an imperfect crown. Gale's Folly one might call it. History. Repetition. It's the way things go.

some of this is still in the game.

more lore about karsus's folly:

Unfortunately, his choice was a terrible mistake, for one of the responsibilities of the deity of magic was to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. Lacking the ability to do so properly, magic surged and fluctuated. With her last remaining bit of power, Mystryl sacrificed herself to block Karsus's access to the Weave, causing all magic to fail. The flying cities of Netheril plummeted to the earth. The severing of the link also killed Karsus and transformed him into stone, and the last thing he saw was his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions. This was to be known as Karsus's Folly. The stone form of Karsus eventually landed in a part of the High Forest, now called the Dire Wood.[8] The city of Karse was built around its base. Karsus was never accepted as a petitioner by any god, nor did he go to the Fugue Plane when he died. Instead, his soul was bound to the Material Plane. Those with experience in pact magic could call up his vestige, where he appeared as a giant blood-red boulder,[5] like the one found in the High Forest where his petrified form landed.[8] Blood burbles up from the top of the stone, trickling down the side facing the summoner, pooling at the base. [x]

there are also lines of gale referring to this corruption he carries within as a "taint" and a "shadow", corrupting him "within", affecting his blood as well (another thing that carried over to release).

i think what might have been originally planned (and again, some of this did carry over) is that the orb not only affected gale's magic, but also his body even more severely (it still does to an extent in the release version even though this part is very, very sadly almost entirely glossed over).

putting all of this together, i think that by absorbing a part of that magic unleashed on the day of karsus's folly - the failed magic, the severing of it, karsus turning into stone, petrifying him - might have affected gale in a similar, albeit weaker fashion.

"history. repetition. it's the way things go."

karsus's folly.

gale's folly.

perhaps as the game continued this petrification might have spread, from his hand, up his arm, to his shoulder, and on, either by leaning onto the darker aspects, or by the treatment failing (the consumption of powerful pieces of weave).

maybe that concept was then turned from petrification, to a sort of corruption/rotting that ethel referred to in her lines.

either way, it would have been interesting to see, for sure.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

His Fierce Flower - Bonus #2

Family fluff piece featuring Neteyam, Enyu and their kids.

Series Part Listing Found Here

It was the screeching cry of a mountain banshee in the distance that stirred him.

Eyelids heavy, he squinted through them for half a second, before immediately snapping them shut again. Neteyam’s first thought was to go right back to sleep, but his plan was soon interrupted when he found that there was a little foot uncomfortably smushed up against his cheek. 

Groggy, a tired groan escaped him as he stretched and twisted his body, muscles tight and aching from pushing himself too hard in training yesterday. He’d kill for one of his mate’s incredible massages.

With ease, he adjusted Elteyä from her wild sprawl and brought her across his chest instead. He didn’t even know when she’d snuck into their room.

Thankfully, she didn’t stir at the movement, or wake from the kisses he pressed to the crown of her head as she unconsciously wormed her face into the crook of his neck. Norii though, her clothmade doll, slipped from her fingertips, so he tucked it back into his daughter’s arms. 

In the dim room, all was quiet and still, save the soft suckling sounds that stole his attention. Head turning, he found that Enyu’s eyes were closed, but Neteyam knew she was somewhat awake. After the rough night they’d had- if he felt fatigued, she must have been exhausted. 

His wife laid on her side, facing him with a protective palm supporting a tiny head as their youngest nursed from her chest. The sight alone filled Neteyam with emotion so strong, he could never seem to put it into words. 

As if she could feel his gaze, she peeked at him, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards a fraction. 

“Morning, baby,” he croaked in greeting, smoothing his palm down the side of her thigh. 

She hummed in response and hooked her ankle over his shin, eyes closing to sneak in a few more minutes of rest. 

Neteyam scanned the span of their bed, and no sooner when he realized they were missing another little someone, did he hear the pitter patter of tiny feet coming their way. 

Dragging her own doll behind her, Asthlyee stumbled in and made a beeline for her mother- like she did every morning since she learned how to walk, but stopped short at the sight of the infant already attached to her breast. 

Hair mused wildly, her little fist fell away from the eye she'd been rubbing and Asthlyee’s cute face morphed from drowsy confusion to scrunched up in a clear display of hurt, ears falling back sadly. 

“Asthlyee,” Neteyam called in a hushed, post-sleep raspy voice, “come here, pretty girl.” Shifting Elteyä to his side, he beckoned for the grumpy toddler to come to him. 

Bottom lip pouted, she crawled her way across the massive spread of blankets and plonked herself on her daddy’s chest, oblivious to his winces at the sharp pokes of her knobby knees and elbows. 

“Good morning,” Enyu whispered to them both through squinted eyes, sitting up with Ray’lu in her arms. “Did you sleep well, my Asthy?”

Asthlyee nodded, though her frown cut deeper as she watched her mother switch the babe to her other breast. Arms stretched out, she made grabby hands, expectantly asking for her mother. “Mama? Mama, me?”

“Oh my love, you’ll get your turn soon, yeah?” she hushed sweetly, leaning forward to caress Asthlyee’s cheek. 

She felt a pleased pang in her chest from her daughter wanting her. Since Asthlyee was a daddy’s girl through and through, whenever her little one wanted her instead, Enyu’s happiness always went haywire. 

It had been three weeks since their youngest was born, so their little family was still adjusting. So far, the new addition was hardest on Asthlyee. 

When the two year old met her baby sister for the first time, she- like Elteyä, was all excited smiles and hugs- maybe not really understanding but imitating her big sister’s actions all the same. 

Kiri and Spider had given Jake and Neytiri their first grandson six months ago, so Asthlyee was no stranger to babies, since she seemed to like her baby cousin just fine.

But when her morning routine, which usually started out with kisses and cuddles from her mother while she nursed, was being given to someone else… Well, that’s when Asthlyee realized that her new baby sister was here to stay.

Their mornings together meant the world to Enyu, really. Without fail her daughter would seek her out, and once she’d had her fill of milk and an abundance of smothering love, Asthlyee would crawl right into her daddy’s arms where she refused to leave.  

The toddler blinked at her mother, not liking her response, so she resorted to her favourite person for back up. “Daddy-!”

“Shh, not so loud, pretty girl,” he shushed gently, fingers combing through her wild locks, trying to tame them yet sympathetically soothe away any possible incoming tantrums.

“Daddy,” Asthlyee tried again, though it really wasn’t any better. “Wook!” She pointed indignantly, “da baby.”

“Yeah I see, Asthlyee. Is Ray’lu hungry? You’re such a great big sister to share with her.”

“But is mine booby… an mine mama.”

It was in the tip of Neteyam’s tongue to joke to his wife that technically those “boobies” had belonged to him first, but given the situation he didn’t think it would help his discussion with his two year old.

“Asthy girl,” Neteyam cooed. Tears were rapidly pooling along her lash line making his heart ache, even though he knew they were fake. “Remember we talked about you sharing with your baby sister? She’s very little and has to grow strong like you and ‘Teyä. She needs your mama just like when you were a tiny baby.”

Asthlyee crossed her arms at his words while her tail slapped irritably. “No…. No share.”

Neteyam wiped away a dried drool patch from the corner of her pouty mouth. Noting the startling resemblance she shared with her mother, he couldn’t help smiling at her little scowl. She was every bit Enyu like this- defiant and fierce. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

“No?” he repeated, tickling her pudgy tummy, gaining a giggle in response. 

Instead of fighting her on the point so early in the morning, he tugged her down, tucked her in for a comforting cuddle, and bestowed a kiss on her forehead. Neteyam was not ashamed to admit the tactic he used on Enyu when they were younger, seemed to work on his daughters as well.   

Successfully distracted and through a yawn Asthlyee insisted, “Dolly, daddy.” She lifted the shabbily sewn doll for him to kiss as well, then laid her cheek against his and sucked on her thumb out of habit. 

And when Elteyä unconsciously squirmed closer to him, Neteyam wrapped an arm around her and watched as his mate burped their Ray’lu, all of them quietly listening to Enyu’s quiet crooning. 

Surrounded by his girls, Neteyam felt like the luckiest man alive. 

~

“Aye, bay, shee, eee, aye, heff, jeee!” Elteyä’s head bobbed to the beat of her song with every note she sang. Not knowing the rest of the letters, she hummed the tune cheerfully through another mouthful of her breakfast.

“Asthy, baby, don’t play with your food,” Enyu chided lightly as she broke up a few pieces of fruit in front of the toddler. She tried to coax another bite of the breakfast scramble from the fussy eater who’d been naughtily tossing pieces away. 

“No.” Asthlyee shook her head stubbornly, reaching instead for her mother’s chest, wanting to nurse again. 

“Nu-uh. Not till you eat a couple more bites. You’ve barely had any.” 

The toddler turned whiny but the moment her father said her name firmly she grumpily obeyed, allowing her mother to feed her. 

“What?” he chuckled, seeing his mate’s wrinkled nose. 

“Nothing… It amazes me just how much you’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” she jested, smirking when her daughter opened up for a second mouthful without any prompting. 

Neteyam shrugged. “Got you wrapped around my finger too,” he mumbled slyly, mirth and heat dancing in his eyes. 

“Behave,” she grinned, shaking her head at the fact that she was blushing like a teen with a frivolous crush.  

Her mate looked entirely too pleased with himself. He loved that he had such an effect on her, even after all these years. 

With a sleeping Ray’lu nestled in the crook of his arm, he ate with his free hand. The peaceful, milk drunk infant was a sheer contradiction to last night where she’d screamed her lungs out for most of it, keeping her both parents up. 

“Flower.” He jerked his chin towards his wife’s abandoned bowl, reminding her of the untouched meal, but she waved him off, making sure her daughter had her fill.

Her habit of forgetting to feed herself had somewhat gotten worse now that they had kids, since Enyu was forever fussing over everyone but herself. 

“Aye, bee, shee, dee, eee, heff, jee…” Elteyä started over her rendition for the third time and Neteyam coached her through the rest of the English letters she’d only started learning recently. 

“Mama?” Asthlyee’s head tilted sweetly. “Peas, Mama? Booby? Peas.” 

“Pl-ease,” Enyu corrected, poking her daughter's nose playfully. 

“Yes,” Asthy contested, nodding impatiently. “Pease.”

She bossily crawled into her mother’s lap, making her parents huff in matching smirks of amusement at the sight of her determinedly trying to push away the offending string of Enyu’s top that was blocking her way. 

And only when she was settled did Enyu finally begin to eat. 

Elteyä’s song suddenly stopped, all turning quiet for longer than normal during a typical family meal.  

“What’s happening in that brain of yours, baby girl?” Neteyam asked, seeing his oldest lost in thought, one cheek puffy from the food she’d stopped chewing. He swiped his thumb down her chin and across the corners of her lips to remove the mess there. 

“Daddy? What’s a- a chicklhen?” 

Neteyam’s brow quirked in amusement. Not only at her question but at the sticky tiny handprint she accidentally left on his knee. “A chicken? It’s an animal. From Earth.”

“Oh… That’s where granpaw’s from right?” 

“That’s right.” 

Her adorable face crinkled in confusion as she pondered over her next thought. “Then, why did uncle Spider call uncle Lo’ one? He’s not a chicklhen!” 

“Aha!” Enyu covered her mouth as her body shook with laughter, accidentally causing Ray’lu too stir in Neteyam’s arms from her outburst. “Sorry,” she mouthed when he hissed her name, adjusting the infant when she nosed at his skin.

Asthlyee had lifted her head to blink at them in curiosity, but finding nothing interesting, she returned to suckling away while a pudgy little fist played and kneaded the flesh of her mother’s other breast and nipple. 

Oblivious to her parent’s reactions, Elteyä's nose wrinkled. “But, what does a chicklhen look like?” 

“How about we take a visit to the labs later? I’m sure if you ask very nicely, someone there can show you a picture of a chicken,” Neteyam suggested. 

“Okay!” she chirped excitedly. “Do you think it really looks like uncle Lo’?” she wondered out loud after drinking a big gulp of fresh plant milk. 

“No, baby. I’m sure your uncle Spider was just teasing,” her mother assured. 

“Ohh…” The four year old nodded sagely, as if it made sense. “Because of the new baby?”

“What new baby?” Enyu asked curiously, fingers carding through Asthy’s soft strands. 

Elteyä shrugged and reached for another slice of melon fruit. “I don’t know, mama. He just said he was the chicklhen for not giving aunty Otty a baby yet.” 

Neteyam and Enyu shared matching surprised glances.

Then, just as fast as the last word left her lips, Elteyä was spewing another question. “Can a chicklhen have a baby?” And before either of them could even answer- “Daddy when can I have the real baby?” she asked expectantly, Norii the doll, oddly crammed under her armpit. “Do I hafta get the boymate first?” 

“What?! No!” 

Their family tent rang silent for all of an entire minute at Neteyam’s no, followed by Ray’lu’s wail. He shifted the infant in his arms, bringing her up to his shoulder with a little bounce and gentle shush and apology for waking her up. Thankfully she settled quickly. 

“Well why not?” Elteyä sassed, over the sounds of her sister’s quieting cries, looking thoroughly put out and very much like her mama whenever he said something that upset her. 

Eywa help him. 

“Because. You’re not allowed to grow up and leave me,” he said somewhat seriously. “You’re not allowed to court. No mate. No boys, Elteyä.”

Enyu rolled her eyes at this while Elteyä giggled as if he’d told her the world’s funniest joke. “You so silly, daddy. Of course I hafta grow up! Then I get the boyfriend like aunty Tuk and then-”

“What?!” 

“Alright! Alright,” Enyu cut in. “‘Teyä, my sweet girl, let’s not give your daddy a heart attack so early in the morning. Why don’t you go play for a bit before it’s time to clean up and head over to your great- grandmother Mo’at, yes?” 

“Oookay.” Elteyä rounded the table with an excited bounce. She leaned against Enyu’s side to peer at her sister. “Asthy, do you want to play too?” 

The toddler nodded around her mothers nipple and when she quickly sat up, Enyu fixed her top back in place and watched them run off, hand in hand. 

Neteyam too had stared after them, then, head snapping to his wife, he hissed incredulously, “Boyfriend?! Boyfriend.” 

“‘Tey, relax. Don’t get yourself worked up. We’ve been over this before. You’ve got to let go of-”

“En’yuna. She’s four. Four and talking about having a- a boyfriend? No. No,” he shook his head, shrugging as though the entire thing was ridiculous. “Never. She’s not allowed. None of our girls are. Tuk’s never allowed to babysit again either. Elteyä looks up to her and if that’s what she- ”

He scoffed incredulously, “Boyfriend… tuh! Did you know about this? Does Tuk actually have a boyfriend? Or is this another on of her make up stories? What does she even know about that? She’s fourteen! What are my parents thinking? I’m telling you right now, baby, that won’t be the same for my girls. Nope. Not happening.”

Enyu huffed and clicked her tongue at him. Every time he behaved like this it highly amused her. She’d been subject to his overprotective and possessive tendencies for most- if not all of her life, and now it was the same for all three of their girls. 

Crawling towards him, she slumped herself into his lap, thighs falling on either side of his hips. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?” 

Ray’lu was contently snuggled against her daddy’s chest. Scrunched up in that newborn position Enyu loved, she looked extra tiny, especially being held by Neteyam. 

Careful of their little one between them Enyu laced her fingers together behind his neck and caressed his skin with her thumbs. Before he could retort, she kissed him squarely on the mouth. “Dramatic,” she emphasized. 

Breathing in her scent deeply, Neteyam rested his forehead against hers, willing himself to regain his composure with the help of her soothing. 

“How are you so calm about all of this? Doesn’t it freak you out a little?”

“Well one of us has to stay sane whenever the other one’s losing it,” she teased. “And of course the thought of our girls growing up and eventually leaving us terrifies me, but ‘Tey, we don’t have to worry about that for a very very long time. You said it yourself, Elteyä’s four. Asthlyee is two going on sassy, sure… but this sweet one,” she nuzzled her baby’s cheek, “can’t even lift her own head yet… You’ve got nothing to freak out about right now.” 

“Mmm,” he grunted in agreement, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. Tugging her hips closer to his with his free arm, he kissed her neck just because. 

Wrapped up together, the pair basked in comfortable silence until Ray’lu began to fuss and the sounds of a squabble between their two other little ones broke out. 

~

It's good to be back writing for these two. I missed them!

Lemme know what you think, loves.

P.s. I've tagged those of you who asked when the series was ongoing. Please feel free to let me know if you want to be removed from future posts like this :)

@love13tter @behindthearcane @gyuventure @jackiehollanderr @melsunshine @goddesslilithmoriarty @kachowness @gamorxa @arminsgfloll @mrslandryy