#blues rock with shuffle beats

[siblingshuffle]

Sibling Shuffle Lore Facts

Heyyy

Sorry it’s been a little while longer than usual

I haven’t had a lot of time to work on The Darkman Problem (it IS still coming) but I feel a little bad that it’s taking so long when it’s ultimately like 3 panels that I just haven’t had much time to work on. I’ve got time right now, so it should be coming really soon, but, uh… yeah.

Anyway, have some lore in the meanwhile!

Rock has a room at Light Labs. He doesn’t stay often or for very long, but it means something to Rock that they have it at all. 

Roll knows how to roller-skate. Kalinka has been trying to teach her how to ice skate any time one of them visits the other. (They’re also ((kinda)) pen-pals for most of the year! And by that I mean they send frequent emails to one another.)

Tango has done that thing that cats do where they lay across your computer keys. To literally everyone at Light Labs. On many occasions. 

Bass is barred entry from every arcade and bowling alley in the city , following The Incident™️. He’s actually pretty proud, seeing this as an accomplishment.

Tempo lets Rhythm do her hair sometimes while she reads off memes or Reddit stories she thinks Rhythm would find funny.

Time Keeps Slipping still happens in this universe. Here, Blues was sent back to the lab after realizing he was running at like 12% battery (since he got that "weird/sometimes-painful sensation" in his left arm, and he usually gets that more often when he’s at a lower charge). That’s when he was stopped and taken by Oil Man, though, meaning Blues was exhausted and honestly not feeling too great for that arc.

Piano has a theory that Wily might have gotten her and Bass's IC chips mixed up while making them, but has too big of an ego to admit this mistake. She has one of those cork boards with pictures and red string all over about it. (Bass doesn’t really care.)

Beat can be carried like a basketball under one arm. This is usually when he’s in recharge mode (in which he can slide his wings inside of his body, thus letting him be carried like that more easily).

Power-saving mode will gradually disable non-essential functions in a Robot Master the closer they are to 0%, such as the ability to speak or eye-screens lighting up. They might move a bit slower than if they were functioning at 100% charge, and behave as though tired. Power-saving mode activates automatically in Robot Masters that find themselves at 20% charge or below.

Dr. Light and Dr. Wily both have “worlds best dad” mugs. The difference is, Light’s mug was a Father’s Day gift, and Wily bought the mug for himself.

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

hyperfixations are funny cuz sometimes i remember that most people probably can't like. name every rhythm heaven game in order. i can just casually do it. actually most rhythm heaven fans probably could do that we're all kind of unhinged about funni moosic gayme-

[shootingstar-scuderia]

shoot an arrow through my heart

max verstappen x reader

there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.

a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.

masterlist

It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 

Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.

And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.

And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 

Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.

“Max! Open the door.”

He doesn’t.

You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.

You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.

“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.

Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.

His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”

A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.

You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.

“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”

Nothing.

You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”

It’s true and he knows it. 

There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.

It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.

You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 

You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.

Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 

They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?

“You’re in love with me.”

The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.

And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else

The door edges open a little wider.

“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”

He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.

“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”

You can’t really fault him for that one can you?

You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.

Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.

You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.

You’re not ready to have this conversation.

There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.

“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”

You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.

But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.

“Well?”

“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”

You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.

“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”

“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.

He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”

“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 

You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.

You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I asked first,” Max shoots back.

You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”

Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”

“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."

Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.

Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing

You always know when to give in when it comes to him.

“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”

You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”

And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.

And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.

“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.

You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.

You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”

He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.

It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 

“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 

You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.

It was always gonna be you and Max. 

There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.

“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 

You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”

It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.

Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”

Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 

“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”

[mawofthemagnetar]

The door to Doc’s lab squeaked open, and Etho shuffled in lazily. The man himself was standing at a lab bench, fiddling with something- on the bench beside him, a machine the size of a filing cabinet was whirring away noisily. Etho paid it no mind.

“Got the last of ‘em for ya.” He said, holding up a jar of blue slime and giving it a shake, “The last artifake.”

“Perfect,” Doc rumbled, peering in at something through a microscope.

“So, uh, do we have an answer? About the Iskallium eye?”

“Hmm? Yeah, we do. That’s definitely Iskall’s eye. Same materials, same composition, same power supply- matches all the diagrams he gave me when asked. Only difference is, all the artifakes are beat to hell. I don’t know what could possibly have caused these dents, man. Does Tango-?”

“Tango is saying the same thing Tango said yesterday, which is, quote, “they came with the dungeon!” Etho rolled his eyes, leaning up against a workbench that was cluttered with his hard-won artifakes, “So, ah, any luck? I’m risking my life in there for this, you know that, right?”

“You’ll respawn,” Doc muttered, holding a hand out and waggling his fingers. Etho dropped the jar of speedy slime into Doc’s metal palm with a clank, and Doc moved whatever he was examining off the microscope and set about preparing another slide.

“So,” Doc said, “There is a commonality, across all items.”

“Oh?” Etho echoed, hopping up on a bench and shoving a well-loved pickaxe out of the way, “And what’s that?”

“A dusty...residue...thing. Tastes and smells like spent gunpowder, like a rocket that’s just been fired,” Doc said, dropping a slipcover on top of the slide, “It’s fine, particulate residue.” Doc shrugged, and slid the sample of slime onto his microscope, peering in for a closer look.

“And it’s...EVERY artifake, you said?”

“And every artifact, I’ll bet. Keralis’ slippers were a goldmine- just choked with the stuff. Seriously. I put them into a bag and shook them and a ton of that dust came out.” Doc twiddled the focus knobs, and sighed.

“There's more of it. Man, and it's even, like, mixed into the slime! I’m gonna have to ask Jevin for a sample when he’s around next so I can compare.” Doc nodded, and Etho smiled behind his mask.

“Soooo... that’s it, then? The mystery of where the heck Tango got all these artifacts from is...magic dust, I guess?”

The machine dinged, like an egg timer, and printed something out on a long strip of paper. Doc extracted it, and started to read over his results.

And as his eyes scanned down the page, he went very, very still.

“Doc? What’s happening?”

“Etho. Composition of this dust...it’s rock.” Doc said slowly.

“...Rock dust? And?”

“Roughed edges. This rock has never seen water.”

“...Which means...?”

“This rock hasn’t been oxidized. Predominantly...reduced. No clay, no mica...which means...”

“Doc!” Etho sighed, “What are you trying to say, here?”

“Every single one of these artifakes is covered in moon dust.” Doc said flatly.

Etho swallowed.

“Wherever the dungeon is getting these artifacts-” Doc started, hands trembling.

“-Is someplace we didn’t get lucky last season.” Etho finished, "Ah. O...kay."

Both men stared at the jar of slime in silence.

“...Cool. Well, anyway, have fun with your crisis. I’ve got three more frozen shards left!” Etho said cheerfully, and he skipped out the door.

[petcr3]

don't shed no tears | bradley bradshaw x reader

summary: you have a terrible day. bradley has a plan.

word count: 845

warnings: bradley calls the reader my girl, this one is very short lol!

You almost hold it together. 

Really, you almost do.

But your work day seemed determined never to end. Each time you thought you’d gotten on top of what you needed to do, there was a new fire to put out. It was as if everything that could have gone wrong did, and just about everyone you encountered during your day was in a foul mood. 

Even so, you had pushed through frustration after frustration, and finally made it home. It’s your day off tomorrow and you get to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. Things are looking up.

Any other day, you would have laughed it off. But when you finally let yourself plop down on the couch that’s flush with your living room wall and bang your head, the dam just breaks. 

The sound of a particularly forceful “motherfucker!” sends Bradley bolting downstairs, and when he sees you crouched forward, your face in your hands, he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds.

“Honey? What happened, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you say miserably.

“You don’t sound fine.” You don’t respond for a moment. The rough pad of his thumb wipes a wayward tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, hun.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, voice wavering, “I just hit my head.”

“You hit your head?” You want to curl up and wither away. This is so embarrassing. It’s only the worry in his voice that makes you look up.

“Not hard. I just clonked it when I sat down. I’m… I had a really bad day. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t apologize. Not your fault you had a bad day. C’mere.” Bradley leans forward, still kneeling in front of you, and wraps you in his arms. You sag into his embrace, and tears begin to darken the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. A little sob works its way out of your chest.

“Not–– not really.” You feel Bradley’s mustache before his lips as he turns to press a kiss to your temple.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “It’s okay.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “I have an idea.” 

You aren’t particularly pleased when he gets up, but you don’t have it in you to complain. His footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he pads over to the record player and starts fiddling around.

“What are you doing?” you hazard after a moment.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Just hang on a second–– this is gonna be romantic as shit.” You let out a little giggle through your tears, and he grins over his shoulder at you. Leave it to Bradley to make you laugh when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out.

A little flash of blue catches your eye as he finds whatever album he’s been searching for, but you don’t get a good enough look to suss out what it is. Finally, he drops the needle, and you hear the opening notes of No Woman No Cry. The organ plays softly, and you sniffle as a fresh wave of tears hits you. Bradley holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me?” You wipe your eyes and nod, shuffling into his arms. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and draws you in, settling you against his chest with a hand at the nape of your neck. Relief floods through you at the warmth of his touch, the slow and comforting beat of the music, the sway of your bodies.

“I love you,” you mumble into his chest.

“I love you too, baby. I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s much better now.” That makes him smile. The rest of the song plays out to comfortable silence as you rock back and forth together. It’s a longer cut–– the live version Bradley is playing is a little more than seven minutes–– and eventually, you find that you’re cried out. As the song ends and the crowd on the recording begins to cheer, you tilt your chin up to look at him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Hey, anything to see my girl smile.” And you do, tilting your head down bashfully. 

As the cheers fade, the next song on the record begins to play and the plucky guitar of Could You Be Loved fills the room. Unable to help himself, Bradley begins to bob along with the rhythm. He withdraws a little from the embrace and takes your hands, bouncing your arms back and forth. You feign a pout, but it’s useless. As usual, Bradley Bradshaw is sunshine, fending off the gathering clouds until all you can see is him. You relent and begin to match his movements and he breaks into a beautiful, enormous grin.

As you dance late into the night, you remember that this is what it’s all about. That no matter how awful your day is, you have someone to come home to that knows, without fail, how to lift you up.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T ( Mentions of blood and previous injuries) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: Not leaving you guys in the lurch, I just have to force myself to break these chapters up. Part 2 will be posted today or tomorrow.

Chapter 8: Gifts Pt. I

You

Hiding Micheal would be a challenge, but just as you told Noa, some repairs and adjustments needed to be made to your shelter today. Said adjustments, would be the answer to your problems. Micheal knew that he could slip in through the front entrance by the rock if it was cracked, or wait for you to open it so he could slip in later. It was dawn, and as he tended to do, Micheal showed up for his morning snack. With great patience, you walked him around the large mass of rocks, pausing a few times as he got distracted. Slowly but surely, you made your way around until you reached the back of the cave where your tunnel existed.

You couldn’t dig over top of your tunnel of course, that would let water in and potentially collapse it. However, you could dig diagonally and have it meet inwards. You found a spot close to the cave wall, about five feet away from your tunnel, and showed Micheal how you began to dig. He watched you for a few minutes, munching on his grapes and cut up apple you had put into in a small pile for him. He left some of it to come over and watch you dig. You used a curved stone to stab and shovel at the dirt until it was loose enough to move.

Micheal circled around you and the budding hole, before sliding in between you and the loosened dirt. You were surprised by this, until he began to dig at a furious pace with his front paws. You watched as his claws made easy work of it, quickly moving out of the way when his back feet kicked at the soil he had loosened. You decided to let him dig as long as he wanted, it would save you the time and energy. You stayed close by though, making sure he was digging in the right direction. Micheal of course, living up to his namesake, was nothing if not very smart. He dug about two to three feet down at an angle in the direction of your tunnel.

He took a few breaks, stopping to check where you were and what you were doing. He would come sit next to you, getting up and returning to his digging once your hands had become a little too brave. He wasn’t one to be pet just yet, but you could occasionally brush your hand over the top of his head without him squirming away from you. On this latest break, he decided to finish his snack, just as the last dull colors of sunrise faded into the vibrant blue of day. When he had dug far enough, where you could barely see his tail anymore, you went back to the front of your cave. You squeezed yourself through the doorway, tripping and tumbling onto your hands and knees, before you began to crawl through your tunnel. You measured the distance with your arm from the mouth of the cave to where you were.

It was always quiet underground, but still you stopped and tried to listen. At first, you could hear nothing but your heart beat, but then very faintly in the background, you heard the sound of shuffling dirt. You were in the right spot. You took your rock, not having a lot of extra space to move, and began to chisel away at the solid earth to your left. Micheal was moving faster than you, but the point wasn’t so much to beat him, as it was to give him a moving point to dig towards.

A half hour later a nose broke through the dirt to meet you, followed by paws and the rest of Micheal’s face. He whined and chirped as he dug through, meeting you on the other side. You quickly backed up, covered in sweat and other things you didn’t really want to think about too closely. Micheal finished the connecting hole, just big enough for his body to slip though before flopping down into your much bigger tunnel. The digging must have taken it out of him as he continued to lay there, panting as his chest rose and fell quickly.

You managed a quick pass along his ears, Micheal whining and shaking his head to dislodge your hand as you did. You chuckled, backing out of the tunnel to grab one of the few bowls you hand. You opened your canteen and poured water into it, and though you were loathe to do it, you also grabbed the fish you were saving for breakfast. You carefully carried the bowl and the fish, shuffling and crawling your way back through to Micheal.

His head rose at the smell of food, but he quickly changed his mind and dove for the water once you sat it down. You supposed this was your life now, gathering food and water for more than just yourself. You didn’t imagine Micheal would move in with you, but like any other animal, he would probably visit often enough if you kept feeding him. For a moment, you wondered if he had a partner, but decided he probably didn’t. Mates usually hunted together, so if he was barely feeding himself, there was no way he was keeping a partner alive.

You sighed, watching as Micheal spun in a circle, curling up in the dirt and closing his eyes, “Looks like it’s just you and me, Micheal. You and me against the world.”

Micheal didn’t react or respond, his front paws twitching as his body dropped into a near instant sleep. You were envious, wishing you could fall asleep that quickly. Then again, foxes were nocturnal, so it was probably way past his bed time. You glanced to your left, looking up through the tunnel where the faintest bit of daylight was visible. To his credit, he had also done most of the digging for the tunnel. He deserved his sleep. You began to slowly crawl backwards, letting Micheal rest as you planned to continue about your day.

You made your way outside, around the cave and rocks, to where the new opening was. It wasn’t obvious, thankfully, but you still worried about other animals coming in. You thought briefly about bringing in another rock, but realized you could potentially trap Micheal or yourself on accident. You would just have to trust for now that the hole was small enough, and Micheal’s scent would keep anything else away. The main point is that is was hidden from Noa and any other ape that might make their way towards your burrow. At least, you hoped it was.

You turned then, deciding to grab your fishing pole, fish trap, towel, and some fresh clothes. You needed a bath in the worst way, and now that the weather had officially warmed, you might go swimming. Hygiene first, fun after. You slipped back into your shelter, noting that Micheal was still fast asleep before grabbing your supplies. Two distinct pieces of cloth caught your attention before you walked out, and you quickly snatched them up to bring along. Blood was so hard to clean from material, but you could do your best to wash it. You owed Noa and Anaya that much.

You left your door cracked, beginning the trek to the creek. You took this time to reflect on everything that had happened in the past few months. Your entire life had been turned upside down once more, but this time, you were the driving force behind it all. You were allowed to make your own decisions with the apes, come and go as you pleased, and were always included, but never pressured into anything. You lamented the fact that your friends, or even your mother, were never able to meet the trio. If they had, maybe things would have been completely different.

You reached the edge of the woods, stilling yourself and listening for any sound of life outside of you. You heard nothing, daring to poke your head above the brush, scanning the edge of the creek on both sides. Nothing. You breathed a sigh of relief, dragging you and your load from the foliage to the edge of the water. You spread everything out in front of you, deciding to set up your fish trap first. It wasn’t difficult, but it didn’t always work unless you left it for long periods of time.

For now, you let your fishing pole remain on the ground, finding that familiar stone by the edge of the water and placing your clean clothes on it. You did one final check of your surroundings before you were practically ripping your clothes off. The water had warmed up considerably, and you wasted no time sliding off the edge of the bank and into the creek. There was tall grass and few other plants to wade through, but you broke through after a few strides into deeper water. Not too deep, just reaching past your waist, but once you found solid rock below to ground yourself, you sunk beneath the stream.

You held your breath, feeling the bits of dirt already peeling away from your skin. You rubbed at your arms and at the base of your neck, hair floating above you and making the task easier. You scrubbed at your legs and your feet, knowing they would never fully be clean but still making an effort. As you contorted under the water, lungs starting to tinge with that familiar burn, another type of pang hit your stomach and you cringed.

Breaking the surface with a small gasp, you placed a hand over your abdomen. You sighed and groaned to yourself, “Not again, not now.”

The pleasures of being a female never ceased. The last time this occurred you hadn’t been close enough with the apes for them to be around when it happened. They just assumed you had been off doing other Echo things. Or, avoiding them all together. Since it was a daily, if not hourly, effort to keep yourself fed and safe, your body didn’t often display its natural signs that it could reproduce…but that was before. Since meeting Noa, Soona, and Anaya, you were safer and more well fed than you had been in years. You were considerably less scared on the daily as well. Your body must have decided to start a regular cycle now in response to your better lifestyle, and wow, that was a cosmic joke if you ever saw one.

How were you supposed to explain this to the trio? You didn’t even know when it would start, only that the phantom pains had begun. You remembered having to explain it to Gol, since he had assumed Micheal had attempted to hurt you and threatened to kill him in response. You shivered at the memory, arms curling around your abdomen and praying it was something else. You were tired of bleeding, of being in pain, and dealing with blood.

You were reminded then, of the arm bands. You returned to the task at hand, dipping your head back into the water and scrubbing at your hair for a minute or two before shuffling back to the bank. A quick glance confirmed you were still alone. You hauled yourself from the water, careful to avoid getting your hands too muddy before crouching within the grass and reaching for your towel. You dried off quickly, pushing the thought of your body and its future out of your mind.

You dressed as if you were a machine, the familiarity of the actions engrained within your muscles to move silently and swiftly. Once your modesty was restored, you used the towel to wrap your hair. You didn’t leave it up long, just enough to squeeze the dripping water out. Your towel was tossed to the side then in favor of your dirty clothes. You would wash the bands last.

You were surprised by the brown that was pulled from your shirt, knowing it was covered in dirt, but not expecting the color to be that vivid. You reminded yourself not to wring it too hard, already thin and thread bare as it was. Your stomach turned, another pang accompanying it as you thought about what would happen when these clothes wore out. Your mother’s jacket was already ruined, and you only had two or three shirts and pants respectively. You had your sleeping sheet you had fashioned into a nightgown, which you supposed you could rip and fashion into clothing if you really needed to. You would not sacrifice your blankets though, that would be counter productive.

The question persisted in your mind though, when would you be able to leave in search of clothing? How would you even go about it? And if you couldn’t find anything, what then? You were relatively young, how long could you keep looking? How long would you survive?

The questions suddenly stopped being about clothes and you swallowed the bile in the back of your throat. This world was not for the people who thought long term, it was for the ones who survived day by day. That’s why you were here now, why you had lasted this long. You shook your pants a little harder than you needed to, laying them on the rock next to your shirt to sun dry.

You picked up the arm bands then, knowing immediately which one was Noa’s. Your thumb stroked over it, reveling in the softness of the material while thinking about its owner. You hoped teaching the trio to read was a good way to repay his kindness and care towards you. It was a start at the very least. There was no debt, when all was said and done, but it was a reason to keep the apes in your life. Every day you spent with them, you felt your bond grow stronger, a tug on that intangible thread inside every time you thought about not seeing the trio.

You shook the thought away, dunking the band into the creek, letting it start to absorb the water. You took a small stone and started scrubbing at the material, mind drifting back to Micheal, sleeping comfortably back in your burrow, wondering if that was why you wanted to domesticate him. You hadn’t even named him until last night, and you knew now that the apes did not approve. It was early enough, you could run him off yourself, stop feeding him, and actually block off your home as you had for so many years. But no, just this morning you doubled down. You made a secret tunnel. Why would you risk breaking the apes trust? Was it because you simply felt bad for Micheal? Or, was it because you didn’t want to rely on the apes and then be left alone again?

You felt the truth within the thought, swallowing hard as you gently laid Noa’s band off to the side. You picked up Anaya’s band then, a smile splitting your face as you thought about the sweet chimp and his carefree antics. It fell a moment later, when darker thoughts clawed their way back to the surface of your mind. Realistically, how long could this friendship last? After all, Noa was the leader of the clan, Anaya obviously his right hand, and Soona…?

You had to stop then, considering her place within the clan. She was smart, probably just as smart as Noa, but in a different way. In your mind, she could do anything, be anything for her clan, and seeing the way she looked at Noa sometimes…you imagined she would probably be his mate one day. They were young-ish to your knowledge, their climb last year to honor an egg and raise an Eagle meaning they were just bridging the gap from teenager to a more mature adult ape.

They would get older, just as you would, and things would go back to how they had been. This peace you found wouldn’t last forever- couldn’t last forever. The ape trio and their Echo friend at the edge of the forest. You chuckled, the thought sounding more like the title of a children’s story. Like all stories though, it would end before you were ready for it to. You would be alone again… but you could enjoy your time with them while it lasted. Just like your parents, your friends, your love for Micheal…the apes could be wonderful memories one day. You were already grateful for all the time you had spent with them thus far.

If God was real, you thought maybe this was his way of making up for the pain and suffering you endured before. It would be just; finding apes you could trust, getting a new Micheal, and living long enough to be considered an adult. You were fulfilled, even happy at times. There was nothing else you could possibly want. At this point, you could die tomorrow and consider your life one well lived.

Well lived?

You continued to scrub at the band in your hands, wondering why that last bit bothered you. You had a golden childhood, real friends that were willing to give their lives for yours, and you had loved with your whole heart. It wasn’t the love every girl dreamed of, but it had been yours for those precious few minutes. It was more true and devout than anything you would have experienced in the vault, more than anything you would find if you went back…and certainly more than you deserved now. Your vision blurred in front of you then, forcing you to swipe at your eyes. You stopped your scrubbing, fingers suddenly feeling raw as you took a moment. One deep breath, and one deep exhale.

Lying to yourself wasn’t doing you any good. There were things you wanted, things you wanted to do but would never be able to. You had accepted that a long time ago…or so you thought. No, you did. You accepted it, this was just an emotional lapse. You tried to rationalize it in your mind, running a hand through your hair as you took another deep breath. There was no use crying about it. There was nothing you could do to change things. Wishing for more now, when you finally found friends, after being alone for so long, was just greedy. Finding Noa, and Anaya, and Soona was a gift in and of itself, wanting more from this life would only be selfish.

It would be human.

That thought surprised you. When did the word human become an insult in your mind? You glanced to the arm bands next to you, maybe you had been spending too much time around the apes? Or, maybe you just knew more about your own species nature. With that, you finished up Anaya’s arm band, surprised how much of the blood you were able to scrub out of it. You left it out to dry next to your clothes and Noa’s band, grabbing your fishing pole and towel.

You carefully made your way back to the edge of the woods, following the creek amongst the camouflage of the foliage. It was a quick walk downstream, where it suddenly opened up and merged with a larger body of water. It could probably be considered a river, but only just, as it collected in a large pond like structure before shrinking and winding its way further down the valley. You saw the rock that you had spent many, albeit nervous, days laying on when the weather warmed up.

You found this place on your search for your mother, not brave enough to veer far from your burrow at the time. You had simply followed the creek. Later, when you had become accustomed to the idea of being on your own, during a very hot summer, you had been brave enough to swim out to the rock. You had sat there and allowed yourself to cry for the first time since Micheal, knowing you were safe to be vulnerable in the middle of the water.

Strangely enough, you returned now, knowing you would feel better if you could only climb onto it and warm yourself. You noticed some rabbits by the edge of the water on the other side, chuckling to yourself as you rested your pole along the bank. You would fish after you were done. You quickly stripped out of your clean clothes, careful to set them down next to your pole, before you grabbed your towel and took off in a mad dash and leapt into the water. You made sure to hold your towel above your head, counting nine steps until the river bottom dropped out beneath you. From there you treaded water, pushing yourself towards the elevated stone in the center. When you finally touched it, you let out a contented sigh, holding onto the side to steady yourself before throwing your towel up and over. You would get it later.

You used your feet to push off the rock then, hands going out behind you to feel the water slip through your fingers. You took in a breath, feeling your body float freely, the sun warming your face. You did this for a few minutes, just breathing and relaxing before you sat up, treading water again and trying to see what might be below you. Occasionally, you could find old human things in the water, if it was clear enough for you to see. You found coins once, and old jewelry another time. Then there were times it looked like human things, but was just beautiful rocks. You usually took those too. Today, you saw something sparkling below you, catching the light of the sun.

You took a large breath, diving forward and towards what you had seen. Your vision underwater was blurry, but you could still faintly see the glimmer. You reached your hand out carefully, not sure what you were grasping at, only that it was clear. Your hand touched the glimmer, feeling something smooth and cool. It was glass. You wrapped your hand around it fully then, pulling up until you dislodged it, lungs beginning to burn from lack of oxygen. You brought it up with you, gasping for breath as you broke the surface.

You wiped hair and water from your eyes, turning to see the large, empty glass bottle in your hand. You swam back to your rock, hoisting yourself up and onto your stomach. As usual, water cascaded off of you and made a large wet spot on the surface of the stone. You pushed yourself forward into a kneeling position, allowing the majority of the water to slide off your body before moving again. After a few seconds, you pivoted, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around you. You found a dry spot to lay on now, stretching out your back and rolling your neck. You held the bottle up to the light, watching it refract left and right as you turned it.

It wasn’t useful, at least not at the moment, but you would give it a purpose. It was something from a bygone era, a survivor like you, so you would find something to do with it. You sat it next to you, closing your eyes and allowing your body to be dried by the heat of the sun. You would stay just for a little bit, just a little longer, enjoying the warmth before swimming back and collecting your things. You still had to meet the apes tomorrow, and you should probably fish before it got dark, no guarantee your trap would pull anything…

That was the plan anyway, until your body jerked itself awake, a noise to your right alerting you of the soon-to-be setting sun. Your face felt flushed, a little hotter than usual too, and your eyes were struggling to open from your nap. The light was suddenly too bright and everything was out of focus. You rubbed at them, sitting up and turning in the direction of another noise. It was a rock, one that hadn’t been there before. You looked up when you heard your name being called.

You pulled your towel tighter around your body, eyes focusing until the image of Anaya came into focus. You relaxed slightly, calling out, “Anaya! What are you doing here?”

“Echo…stuck!” Anaya called back, pacing frantically back and forth, “Is hurt…need help?”

You waved your arms and shook your head, “No, I’m fine! I’m fine!”

His pacing did not stop, voice still tinged with worry as he shouted, “Can…come back…need to get Noa?”

“No!” You yelled a little too loudly. “Do not get Noa! I’ll come to you, just stay there. Give me a second.”

“Okay Echo.” Anaya replied, finally settling down. He was arching his back and stretching on his toes to see you better.

You had to admit, you were impressed he was able to hurl rocks this far out, let alone see you. Speaking of seeing you, you thought about your towel and glass bottle. You looked up, seeing Anaya still focused on your form. You bit your lip, yelling, “You need to turn around!”

“Why…danger?” Anaya said, turning quickly to face the woods before turning back to you.

“No, no danger!” You called, voice scratchy from yelling, and maybe also from dehydration. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I need to swim over but I’m not wearing my clothes.”

You couldn’t see clearly, but Anaya looked annoyed, “Do not care…about Echo body…safer to keep an eye…on you!”

You rolled your eyes, “Anaya! Please!”

He planted his feet then, letting out a screech of, “No!…Water dangerous!”

You groaned, deciding this was not the hill, or rather the rock, that you wanted to die on. You ripped the towel from your body then, wrapping it around the bottle you found as you raised it above your head. You felt your cheeks heat up even more, before you slipped off the rock and into the water. You let out a small yelp, the water much colder to your heated body than it had been before. You saw Anaya launch forward on all fours, in water up to his wrists before you called, “I’m fine! I’m fine! The water is just cold.”

Anaya did not move back, he stayed in place, transfixed by your movements in the water. The closer you got, the more you noticed his open look of shock, his jaw slack. Your foot found the ledge again and you pushed yourself to stand, halfway at least, keeping everything from your chest down submerged. You grabbed the towel from around the bottle, hanging it in front of you as you began to walk forward. Once the water was to your knees, you wrapped the cloth around your body again, pushing your clinging hair back from around your face. Still, Anaya did not move.

You looked at him curiously, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Echo…” Anaya said, sounding a little breathless. “Echo can…move in water.”

“I can swim,” you agreed.

Anaya just stared at you, shifting onto two legs as he admitted, “Did not know…that was possible.”

You continued your trek out of the water, passing Anaya as you confirmed, “It’s a human thing, we float and swim. Apes have more muscle in their body and sink.”

Anaya followed close behind you now as you made a grab for your clothes, finger pointing as he said, “Face…light red.”

You finished pulling up your pants, hand going to your cheeks as you remembered that you fell asleep in the sun. Thankfully, your body was used to the sun, so you wouldn’t have to worry about blistering. Your face was a different story, but it didn’t hurt, so you should be fine. You rolled your shoulders in a short stretch, “Another human thing. We turn ‘light red’ when we are out in the sun for a long time.”

“Hurt?” Anaya asked, fingers looking to touch your cheek.

You quickly pulled away, turning your back to Anaya to put your shirt on before dropping your towel, “No, just warm. No pain.”

Anaya sighed in relief, “Good…looks like…pain.”

“You and Noa both worry about me too much,” you laughed.

“Echo is…fragile.” Anaya defended, “Compared to ape.”

You sighed, “You’re not wrong. Back to my previous question through, what are you doing here?”

Anaya pointed to his tied horse, holding large amounts of fish and a few baskets of what looked to be black berries. Your mouth gaped, and your stomach growled. Anaya hooted, “Echo hungry…need big strong…ape to feed her?”

You felt your teeth clench, knowing Anaya was only teasing, but the jest struck a nerve. It was a nerve he was unaware of, you had to remind yourself. You smiled sweetly then, “Oh, is Noa around?”

Anaya huffed, rolling his shoulders in a mock of your earlier movement, “Echo…not funny…not like Anaya.”

You smirked, “If I say you’re right, could I have a fish?”

Anaya made his way towards his horse, untying its reigns and walking it over to you. He pulled a fish from one of the nets, holding it out to you before pulling it back at the last second, “Echo…must say…Anaya is her…favorite ape…and cackle at his jokes…on the ride home.”

Your pride had its limits, even if he didn’t know how something like that would bother you. Picking up your pole and glass bottle, towel slung over your shoulder, you scoffed, “I’ll walk and go hungry, in that case.”

Anaya’s cheerful expression fell as he paced after you, “Echo..do not be mad…at Anaya…can have fish…was just being…stupid.”

You stopped in your tracks then, turning on your heel and marching back to Anaya, “You are not stupid, I just told you that yesterday. So, stop saying it!”

You didn’t mean to get so close, or shout for that matter. Anaya was leaning away from your furrowed brow and visibly bared teeth, eyes wide in surprise. You noted his look and relaxed your expression with a deep sigh through your nose, eyes closing momentarily. Anaya watched the change, teasing, “As scary…as Noa…when angry.”

You grumbled, “I’m not angry. I just don’t like when you say you’re stupid, or when anyone says they’re stupid for that matter. I also don’t like when you talk to me like a pet.”

“What is…pet?” Anaya asked.

Shit

You tilted your head back then, taking in a deep breath before bargaining, “I’ll explain if you give me a ride. I’ll trade you something for a fish once we get back to the creek.”

“Can have fish…no need for trade.” Anaya agreed, hands quickly going to your hips, lifting you with ease as your hands scrambled for purchase on his saddle. He did not have stirrups like Noa, so you appreciated the help in mounting. He jumped up behind you, clicking his tongue for his horse to walk. Once it continued down the trail of the creek, he asked again, “What is…pet?”

“A pet,” you began. “It is an animal humans would tame for companionship, something we saw as lesser than ourselves. Something we ruled over. We owned the animal at the end of the day, it was ours.”

Anaya seemed to shrink back, “Anaya…does not think…Echo is pet.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

Anaya was quiet for a few minutes after that. The silence must bother him though, hearing him start to say something and then stop several times. You looked back to him, watching his face shift with several emotions, trying to decide on one. You turned back around in the saddle, feeling like your attention was only making things worse. Another moment, then Anaya finally asked, sounding unsure, “Can you…belong…to apes?”

Your spine stiffened, hissing, “What?”

“You are..our Echo.” Anaya explained. “You do not have….clan of your own…so you belong with Anaya…Soona…and Noa.”

His explanation softened you slightly, but did not make you feel better. You spoke through clenched teeth, “I don’t think that’s how that works, Anaya.”

“Do you…belong to someone…else?” Anaya asked, another genuine question.

You shook your head, “No.”

“Then,” Anaya started. “Echo should…belong with us.”

You were relieved when you saw your familiar rock and creek edge, Anaya barely stopping his horse before you leapt off. He followed you down, hesitantly edging closer to you, “Echo is…un…comfortable.”

You nodded once, “Yes.”

Anaya lowered his head, making himself smaller again as he confessed, “Anaya is…sorry…did not mean…to upset Echo…care about Echo…want Echo to be…comfortable…with Anaya.”

As you pulled your extra clothes and their wrapped bands up into your arms, you froze. Another deep breath, reminding yourself not to overreact. Anaya was your friend, he cared about you. What’s more, he didn’t know. He did not know about the other apes, or Gol. You ran a hand through your tangled hair, dropping your supplies before lowering yourself to the ground and crossing your legs. You faced the water, turning to glance back at Anaya. He stood there awkwardly, confused as to why you were suddenly sitting. You made a gesture for him to come closer, no hesitation on his part as he shuffled to stand next to you.

“I’m sorry, Anaya.” You said, trying to push as much sincerity into your voice as possible. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, I’m just…jumbled. I was uncomfortable before. Humans don’t like being naked around others, and I don’t like being talked to like I’m lesser than you. I know I am. I’m human, you’re an ape. I know it was a joke, but it just…”

“Bad time?” Anaya asked, watching you turn back towards the creek.

You nodded, “Yeah.”

Anaya dropped down onto the ground next to you, shifting for a moment to get comfortable, before handing you a blackberry he had in the pouch slung across his chest. You snickered, taking it from him with a signed thank you, before popping it in your mouth. It was sour, but you tried not to make a face, since you hadn’t eaten practically all day. Anaya watched you closely, nodding his head and looking off into the empty forest across from you, “You are…not…lesser…you are…like Noa.”

You blew a raspberry, laughing to yourself, “I thought you wanted me to be comfortable around you?”

Anaya puffed his cheeks, knuckles pushing against your shoulder, “Think…too much…but do not…share your thoughts…bad thoughts…make bad feelings.”

You sobered at his statement, staring at the water in front of you, nodding your head, “It’s not easy to share.”

“You…share your food,” Anaya supplied. “Not…easy to do…for Anaya…did not have food once…hungry for…very long time…did not like…never hungry now.”

You turned to face him fully then, seeing another berry in his hand offered to you. You stared at it for a beat too long, hesitating while trying to comprehend what he had just told you. His hand stretched closer, and he let out a few hoots of encouragement, wanting you to take it. You did, chewing slowly and appreciating its taste, before you mumbled, “I didn’t know, how important food was to you.”

Anaya sighed through his nose, “Apes share more…than Echos…but do not…always share everything…Anaya shares…with you now…so you will share…when you are ready.”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, “I promise that I will tell you. Even if it’s not right away, I promise to always share the truth with you.”

Anaya hummed, “Noa knows?”

You nodded, “Mhm.”

Anaya’s hand came up to cup the back of your head, patting it a few times, “Is enough…for now…Anaya trusts Noa…trusts Echo.”

“I trust you too,” you whispered.

Anaya pushed himself up onto his feet then, spying your fishing trap. He padded softly over to it, pulling it up and showing you it was empty. You sighed, discouraged, until Anaya returned to his horse, taking two fish from a net and placing them within the trap. He smiled at you, hooting in delight, holding your trap up in the air in a victory pose. You did cackle then, standing to take the trap from him.

Anaya hooted, “Mighty Echo…go home now…eat well.”

“Thank you, Anaya.” You exclaimed, “Oh, I almost forgot. These belong to you. Would you mind giving Noa his?”

You picked up the bands from the ground, Anaya making an audible sniffing sound before saying, “Does not smell.”

You rolled your eyes, “I washed them, of course. I know apes do not like the smell of Echo blood.”

Anya looked surprised, “Smart Echo…kind…thank you.”

Anaya re-wrapped his arm immediately, tucking Noa’s into his pouch. You picked up the rest of your belongings then, smiling, “Get home safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you…tomorrow Echo.” Anaya said, mounting his horse and clicking his tongue. They continued upstream while you ducked back into the forest.

Of course, as you walked home, you were reminded of Noa and his surprise. You weren’t really sure what a positive surprise from an ape entailed, you just hoped it wasn’t anything too awkward or personal. You should have asked Anaya when you had the chance!

This was Noa though, you were sure it would be fine. You were probably overthinking it. He made something…maybe it was an arm band or rap in case you got hurt again in the future? That was probably it, he cared a lot about your comfort and safety, so that only made sense. That was the most logical outcome.

[tokkishouse]

hii i say ur " The first time you call him a term of endearment" post and can i request one where the roles get reversed with kaeya, thoma & heizou. fem!reader gets really really flustered hearing the term of endearment (perhaps one related to snow in kaeya's), tysm <33

(Sfw) Calling Each Other Terms of Endearment for the First Time

Characters: Diluc, Heizou, Kaeya, Thoma, Tighnari

Warnings: Slightly suggestive in Heizou and Tighnari's part, mentions of injuries in Tighnari's part

WC: 1.8k words total

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

He calls you a term of endearment first

The steady tick-tock of the clock reverbs around the study. Paper shuffling and ink scratching fill in the gaps, and the occasional chatter shared between you and Diluc adds life to the quiet environment. Days like this were normal-- enjoying each other's company even with minimal interaction.

The peace is broken by the sound of liquid splashing against the mahogany desk and Diluc's sudden groan in frustration. You look up from the book you were reading to see that ink had splattered on the parchment and his hands. He clicks his tongue and looks up at you, offering a small smile.

"Dearest, could you get a towel? Or just something to clean myself up with."

Your grip tightens on your book in surprise and you freeze in your spot. The redhead watches you strangely as you stumble over your words for a response.

"D-Dearest?" you finally spit out, incredulous. It's his turn to be embarrassed, his face turning as red as his hair.

"Y-yes, that's what I said. Do you not like it?" he's become shy, scared that he has overstepped his boundaries. You quickly shake your head, standing up abruptly and sending your book tumbling to the ground.

"I'll go get you a towel now!" you announce, quickly rushing out of the study. Diluc watches on, still embarrassed but slowly calming down.

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Two dango milks please!" Heizou orders for you two. You decided to have a stroll around Inazuma City-- Heizou had been busy with the recent Test of Courage situation and hadn't been able to spend some quality time with you. He promised that as soon as the situation was resolved he'd take you out.

And that's what brings you to today-- sipping on dango milk while you both sit on a nearby bench. You cringe at the initial taste, but stomach it as you chug the rest of it.

"Do you want to check out the Yae Publishing House next?" Heizou suggests, looking over. He stifles a laugh when he sees the milk staining your upper lip, unbeknownst to you. Seeing him struggle to conceal his laughter, you quirk an eyebrow up.

"Something on my face?" his smirk widens and he reaches over with a napkin to wipe up the milk.

"I didn't know you were trying to grow facial hair, doll. The white suits you," he teases, carefully dabbing away at the milk.

Your face warms up in embarrassment and you hiss at him, trying to bat him away from your face.

"Heizou please!"

"What? Would you rather I tell you what it reminds me of? After all, a delightful image appears in my head and I'd like to recreate it-"

"Shut up!"

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Race you to the beach!" you challenge, breaking into a sprint toward the beaches at Falcon Coast. Kaeya's jumps in surprise but is quick to recover as he breaks into a sprint himself. Despite your headstart, his agile body is quick to catch up and he soon overtakes you.

You both approach the glistening coast fast, and Kaeya's slides to a stop right at the shore, cementing his victory.

"Always just a little too slow it seems~" he teases, watching you jog up to meet him. You sigh, shaking your head.

"I could never beat the calvary captain could I?" he laughs, turning away.

You notice two buckets and a shovel resting against a giant rock and walk over to them. They look like children's pails-- one is blue and the other is your favorite color. You look up at him, and instead of his confident smirk, it's melted into a sheepish smile.

"I wanted to go seashell hunting with you. I used to do it all the time when I was younger," he begins and slowly trails off. A distant look twinkles in his eyes and the air turns somber. You clear your throat, pulling him out of it and you reach down to grab the bucket.

"Well let's get started then! Who knows, maybe we'll find treasure too!"

Kaeya's watches you carefully, and his smirk reappears.

"Oh? But I'd consider you the finest treasure around."

He's quick to dodge the projectile bucket, laughing at your flustered expression.

You call him a term of endearment first

"Thoma, where should I put this stuff?" you ask, looking over at your boyfriend.

You and Thoma were both housekeepers for the Kamisato Clan, although he had far more responsibilities than you did. Eager to help and already done with your chores for the day, you offered your assistance to him, and he was happy to have the help.

"Put it in the closet down the hall! It's extra stationery for Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato," he answers, watching you carry the crate off.

He enjoys working with you as much as possible-- he has no problem taking care of his tasks on his own, but being able to have help, especially from his partner is always a bonus. You come back a few moments later, dusting off your hands.

"Sweetie, do you mind if I go and sit down? My back is killing me," you complain, placing your hands on your back to stretch. He waves you off, letting you take a breather as he presses on. Your words don't quite hit him until he's carrying another crate down the hall. Upon realization, he freezes and drops the crate on the ground, sending a thunderous noise down the halls. Nearby maids look over in surprise as the blonde stands there, dumbfounded and rosy-cheeked.

He calls you a term of endearment first

Having finished all of his tasks for the day, Thoma invited you to join him in feeding some of the nearby stray dogs. Happy to indulge in any spare time he had, you agreed to accompany him. It was one of your favorite past times to do with him. Watching the dogs slowly grow used to both of you was rewarding and it always left you feeling fulfilled and accomplished.

"Oh drat, we're out of some fowl," you complain, realizing your rummaging through your bag has turned unfruitful. Thoma looks over, frowning.

"I can run to the local market and get some?" he offers, but you shake your head, standing up.

"I'll go. I'll be fast," you promise, and you quickly take off to purchase the fowl. Thoma watches after you longingly before turning back to the dogs, showering them in affection.

"You all don't know how good Y/N really is," he begins, carefully ruffling one of the shiba's fur. "They're hard-working and kind, and they always offer to lend me a hand. On days that I don't see them, time seems to drag on forever."

Thoma sighs and sits back a bit, closing his eyes to take a break. The dogs all scramble to crawl in his lap and ask for his attention again, but he's starting to get lost in his thoughts.

"My sweetheart...my Y/N...I wonder if Lord Ayato has any ideas on how to propose," he ponders to himself, unaware of you hiding behind a tree. You had come back a while ago, but quickly hid when you heard Thoma talking about you. His nickname already had you fidgeting in embarrassment, but the idea of a proposal? You almost let out a squeal in excitement.

You call him a term of endearment first

It was a rare lazy day for both of you-- Tighnari had no patrolling duties and he was caught up on his research, meaning he could divert all his focus and energy on you.

Currently, you two were snuggled up on the couch enjoying the delicate notes playing from the record player ("It's this new technology from Fontaine!" you explained when you brought it home). His face was buried in your chest, ears pressed flat on his head while his tail resided in your hands, being carefully groomed by your fingers. The more you tangled his fur between your fingers, the louder his purring got.

"Tighnari, you're purring like a tiger," you tease, carefully slipping your hands down to cup his face and tilt it up so he can look at you. You squish his face, forcing it into a pout. He scowls at you, pulling his face away.

"What, am I not allowed to enjoy my partner's embrace? Should I be as stiff as a board?" he mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"No no, it's cute I promise, love," you laugh, reaching back for his tail. You're unable to catch it as it starts wagging animatedly. You glance down at Tighnari, who willingly matches your gaze. There's a light of amusement shining in his eyes.

" 'Love?' " he inquires, and you smile down at him.

"Yes, is that a- wah!" you're cut off mid-sentence as Tighnari pushes himself up and straddles you, his clawed hands sliding up the side of your body.

"I want to hear it again, Y/N."

He calls you a term of endearment first

"Hey! Not so tight!" you whine, shooting a half-hearted glare at the forest ranger. He ignores your complaints, continuing the wrapping of your injuries.

"It needs to be tight to prevent unnecessary blood loss and make it harder for bacteria to enter the wound," he explains, carefully tying the bandage up. "I wouldn't be doing this though if some lummox didn't go into the withering zone without their weapon."

You cross your arms and look away from him in defiance, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. You forgot to check your bag before you both went out, meaning when you arrived to clear the area out, you were weaponless. And those fungi did not go easy on you. Near the end of it, you were carried back to Tighnari's house with bruises and scrapes all over you.

"I thought it was in my bag."

"You were sorely mistaken," he chides, then turns to pack up his medical supplies. He leaves you alone for a bit and when he returns, you're hugging your legs to your chest. Anyone with eyes can tell there's a gloomy air around you.

"I'm not mad at you," he carefully reminds you, stepping closer. "I was just worried. You can't go rushing into danger unprepared."

You don't reply, still refusing to look at him. Tighnari sighs and plops down in the seat next to you, wrapping his tail around your body. You instinctively scoot closer, leaning onto him.

"I care about you a lot, and if something drastic were to happen to you-" he doesn't finish his sentence, biting his lip. Silence falls over you two, the clock on the wall ticking away.

"You're very special to me flower," he whispers. You jolt at his words, glancing up at him with wide eyes. You try to stammer out a response, words getting twisted on your tongue. He takes your hand and squeezes it, silencing your attempts to talk.

"Promise me you'll be more careful."

Now is "lummox" or "flower" the true pet name? 🤭

@seirenspinel Per your request I added Diluc cause he's my bbgorl and I wanted it to be 5

I personally don't think Kaeya's would call you a snow-related nickname? Even though Cryo is his vision does this make me hypocritical? maybe.

Lmao at this point this is becoming a series. Oh well! Requests (sfw and nsfw) are open~!

[siblingshuffle]

Two origin story comic pages are next. I’ll be using the results from this poll to help me decide which comic strip to focus on, because I have so many ideas but I’m not sure what would be most interesting to you all.

Art will still be posted on an irregular basis in the meanwhile.

Thank you!

[stellayuta]

18+ mdni

Gojo Satoru has one daunting yet well kept secret.

He is an ardent follower of your 18+ livestream account.

Gojo often finds himself logged into his computer after midnight, very much familiar with your streaming schedule. You prefer putting out your pretty body on the net after dark. In today's stream, you greet your devoted audience with your perky breasts up close and personal with the webcam.

As you slowly move further from the camera, Gojo finds you sitting plush on your blanketed bed, fully naked with nothing but your navel piercing shining in the soft glow of the pink leds and your signature, black shirt covering the entirety of your head to obscure your identity. Something about the thrill of not knowing what your face looks like and yet knowing all the nooks, crannies and canals of your body makes Gojo rock hard.

"What should we do today?" You ask your chat while massaging your squishy breasts.

A flurry of messages decorated your screen while your tshirt cover hides your proud smile. Gojo is among the many messages, putting out request upon request. He knows you will never see it but he is stubborn. With a salivating, pervy expression he begs you in the chat to enact his wildest fantasies.

You go through the chat carefully, hmming and sighing at several recommendations while playing with your clit to prep yourself.

"Ahh~!" You moan as a certain stroke of your finger on your sensitive nub tickles just the right spot. The sound echoes in Gojo's brain as he pulls out his warm, hard length to stroke it, eyeing your clit with hunger. He sees you finally stop on one comment and let out a sly whistle. "Look at that. Fake cum with anal vibrator? That's a lot of work, @/blueeyes1989." You say, pointing out Gojo's comment while his heart skips a beat. You had picked his comment to talk about.

"I'm up for it." You say cheekily just when Gojo is about to give up. This makes him look up in hope as you shuffle away from your screen and give the audience a view of your ass and already leaking pussy as you lean over to grab some tools from your cupboard. The chat floods with love for your holes as you bring out a ribbed, veiny dildo attached to a tube and bottle along with a few small and baby blue bullet vibrators.

"Ready my loves?" You ask mischievously as you first finger your asshole and then insert the vibrators into your prepped butt with a moan. You leave one with it's end sticking out for the chat to see while the rest sit snugly inside you. Gojo watches intently as you press a button on your laptop and a pop up lights up Gojo's screen. "Choose vibration level"

The chat is faster than Gojo though because they have already started assaulting the option, picking varioud speeds and strengths to set off the vibrations inside your ass as your mouth lolls open and your tongue falls out inside your tshirt cover, falling prey to the sensation with incessant moans and sighs. Before Gojo can realise, his cock is violently slapping away at his abs.

You get used to the monotic vibrations though and seat yourself onto the dildo, ass facing the camera with blue vibrator looking like a blue button in your ass hole. "That's all y'all got?" You taunt the chat and now Gojo decides to control the vibration for you with one hand while pumping his cock with the other. Gojo starts with a steady rhythm but then erratically ups the speed and lowers the strengths. You are unable to get used to the unpredictability as you bounce as on the silicon cock on your bed. Gojo goes at the button relentlessly as you now turn to face the screen.

Your boobs bounce and ripple with each jump as Gojo watches on deliciously, chasing his own orgasm.

"Oh my goodness!" You choke out in a muffled voice as you cum from both the vibrations and the dildo at the same time as Gojo. He cums all over his hand with a loud sigh and a hiccup while he watches you remove the dildo and a flood of fake cum leaves your pussyhole. You moan out a few more times, fingering yourself as you come down from your high. Periodically, blobs of cum exit your hole as Gojo blushes red, feeling like it's his cum leaving your body.

Once all the cum is out, you turn around yet again, back down and ass up as you force out the vibrators from your ass one by one as they fly off with a pop and a groan from your mouth. This sight almost makes Gojo hard again.

"Nice job, chat!" You praise your audience as your turn around yet again and use the fake cum you squirted out to lather your clit while you say your final goodbye.

Just as Gojo decides to rub one out again in the bathroom after your stream ends. He receives a beep.

*Y/N has sent you a DM*

A/n: this just came into my mind randomly lol

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Six

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Warnings - blood, angst, new friends and revelations, spot the hints (wink)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Sunset skies peered down on you inquisitively, and the earth was soft and slightly warm beneath you.

You hissed as you moved, a metallic sting prodding a the surface of your abdomen. The world tilted, and the familiar dull thumping in your mind swelled behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose in attempt to centre yourself.

Not again.

Lapping waves on the shore flooded your ears as they crashed against the jagged stone rocks along the bay. Flexing your fingers, you felt sand pool between them, weaving in the spaces you had allowed them to infiltrate.

Looking about, you frantically examined where you had landed, pale blue water and white sandy beaches welcomed your sight, and the faint gull of seabirds sounded in the distance.

No. No no no.

The sky watched you, the same sky that had only moments ago parted and thrust you into a world you didn't recognise. Was it another part of Prythian? Where had it taken you?

Were you dreaming?

Turning desperate, you begged your body to lead you back, back to Eris, back to Azriel and Velaris. You stood, the white sand shifting beneath your weight, the hem of your dress kissing the ground and peering about the scene itself, rippling in unearthed unease.

The sand spanned for miles, perhaps further than your eye could see, it was everywhere bar the void to the west which was brimming with oceanic bliss. Warmth brushed through the wisping beach grass, making them rustle and shiver at its kiss that soon curled around your forearms and shrouded you like a comforter, a warm welcome indeed.

In the distance you spied what appeared to be a house, a speck in your vision, but it called to you, it whispered your name on the wind and allowed it's friend to carry its pleads to you. Your mind had gone quiet, for the first time in days it was finally quiet, and you could hear the beat of your heart and the shuffle of your feet as they carried you toward that speck in the distance. Toward whatever would await you there.

"Find her," Eris was on his feet, stood before the Inner Circle growling at them to find you and bring you back, eyes wild and hair tousled from burying his hands within it and tugging as he stood helpless against what had transpired.

Eris believed that sending you to Velaris, to the City of Starlight and dreamers, would be enough to settle you, to rid you of your nightmares and allow you to walk toward your next path without him suffocating you. He didn't believe he was, but he didn't want your livelihood to depend on him, especially when Beron was still kicking and your biggest threat.

The Shadowsinger hadn't said a word, no matter how many questions Nesta or Cassian had asked him, he kept his gaze trained to the floor, his marred palms turned upward at the sky and his shoulders slumped against the back of the deeply set armchair where he sat.

The vision wouldn't leave him, he couldn't stop seeing the stars wrap around your body and propel him away from you, like he was the source of your pain and anguish. He couldn't stop seeing your eyes, the fraction of a second where you had changed your mind before you were thrown through a portal of rippling light. He couldn't stop hearing his name fall from your lips, the last thing you said before you were torn away from him.

"I'm sure we would pull a portal from our asses if it was possible, Eris," Rhys rubbed his forehead, sighing as he came to terms with the fact that, just like his sister, you had been cruelly taken from him too. Maybe he wasn't allowed to have nice things, maybe he didn't deserve it.

The sadness flowed down the bond and Feyre came to his aid immediately, running her fingers through his hair and down his arms to soothe his thoughts. Rhys would have done anything to help you, she knew that, and it was heart breaking that you had seemed to have forgotten.

The trauma had been too much, too much that you couldn't think straight through the pain, and then there was the revelation that Amren had rather stupidly spoken into truth. A fact that made Rhys' chest rumble as he looked to his second, "You had no right to throw that on her," his power throbbed around him, coating him in darkness; his hands gripped the arms of his chair and he struggled to take even breaths, "You knew she was fragile, you knew she couldn't handle that. Whether she asked you to find the answer or not, you should have waited until she was stable enough to listen."

Amren's eyes flickered, drowning in her High Lords power that Feyre was trying desperately to diffuse, "I didn't realise that it would end up like this," her voice was strained and she was doing her best to be void of her usual sarcastic attitude.

"How exactly did you think it would end?" Azriel's voice was low, his chin was dipped but he stared at her through his brows, his fingers twitching and shadows curling around his shoulders, "How exactly did you think that it couldn't end badly after what she went though only a few days ago?"

Amren, realising that even the sentient home was against her in that moment, sighed, "I'm sorry."

The apology meant nothing to them, to the people who had come to cherish you as their own flesh and blood, "I highly suggest that you figure out a way to conjure a portal, Amren. And fast." Rhys didn't say another word, he simply watched as she scuttled like a roach from the room.

Amren was smart. There was no way she couldn't have foreseen her emotionless words push you to the point that they had.

The home already felt colder without you, the halls felt forever draughty, the wood had darkened and the fire had become less inclined to dance in their presence, because you weren't there to impress.

"This has to have something to do with Bryce," Nesta spoke quietly, knowing how Rhys felt about the fae female that had appeared a year or so prior, leaving his rallying his armies just in case her word fell into ash. Nesta looked to Azriel, who met her eye and narrowed them, waiting, "Y/N, or Flora, or The Mother, or whatever you'd like to call her, has an eight pointed star on her lower back, just like Bryce has on her chest, just like my tattoo," Nesta ghosted her fingers over her shoulder, grazing the top point of the star on her own back. "Bryce can open portals, she did exactly that to get here. Y/N opened a portal tonight too, whether she meant to or not. Maybe it's all linked."

"The stars opened that portal, not her," Azriel breathed, sliding down in his seat and frowning. He had to admit that it made sense, that there could be something that linked all three of them together.

"We can't know that for sure. If Y/N is the Mother like Amren says, then it may be possible that she willed it unconsciously," Rhys leaned forward and questioned her thought, he had asked her what exactly she was suggested, "All three of us have the marking of the eight pointed star, Bryce and Y/N have opened portals, perhaps it's possible that I can too, somehow."

Nesta was too cold to admit her adoration of you, but it shined through her actions, when she tended to you and made sure that you were always comfortable, when she would sit beside and read with you and then talk to you about the chapter that had you gasping. You were connected, it made sense, her need to protect you made sense.

"Elain?" Feyre called out her sisters name, the one who was sat beside Lucien with milky pale eyes and slightly open lips, whispering to herself incoherently. Feyre dropped to her knees before her and took her hands in her own, "Tell me what you see."

Elain gulped, "I see blood. I see claw scraping along Prythian. I see uprooted grass and discarded shields. I see fire and stars falling from the sky. I hear..." Elain's voice drifted, her pointed ears twitching and her head slightly moving to the side so that she could listen, "I hear screaming, it's not human or fae. I hear the shadows and enormous violet eyes roaring. Black scales, fire, blood, mangled bodies. We're all dead. They're coming."

The middle Archeron sister jolted back into her body, blinking harshly and reopening her eyes which were normal but laced with fear, "What have we done?" Elain rasped, looking to Lucien and catching her breath in her throat, "She was the only thing keeping them away. They wanted her but now that she's gone they want to devour our world," Realisation hit her, "My visions were never about Y/N being a threat, they were about her protecting us."

Rhys turned to Nesta, the room heavy with the words her younger sister had spoken, "Do it."

Nesta needed no more encouragement, she squeezed Cassian's hand and departed for the library, praying the the Mother, to you, that she could reach you in time to stop whatever whatever was coming their way.

Familiarity flocked around you as you stood before the house, walls of pale stone, a thatched roof, large sparkling windows. It was massive, big enough for the entire Inner Circle to live in and there still be plenty of space. It was no longer a speck in your vision, rather a monster looming over you, so tall that the sun had disappeared behind it.

A small garden lay at the forefront, recently tended to given the discarded gloves and the water can to its side. Notes of lilac and jasmine floated around you and you inhaled it, it was nothing compared to Azriel's scent, or Eris' for that matter, but it still made you feel peaceful, protected.

The handle warmed over your touch, clicking unlocked and pinging open. Intricately woven rugs and abstract artworks welcomed you, the space was open plan, open books law strewn against the floorboards, blankets had been left draped over the backs of the armchairs, embers crackled in the recently dead fireplace. Something was telling you that this wasn't just any home. It was yours, or used to be at least.

Standing in the centre of the room, you glanced downward at the pages of the books beneath you, faintly recognising the images drawn onto the surface but not enough for you to know what they were.

"Y/N?" You whipped your head around to find a woman who looked the same age as you, but who actually knew how old you were? She was dressed in a black velvet dress, golden skin, thick waves of onyx and violet eyes that were brimming with tears of relief, "You're back?"

"What?"

The woman frowned, cocking her head to the side as she examined you, you never wore dresses, especially not ones that hung from your body like that. She examined your skin, the blood that had stained the fabric atop your abdomen, then your eyes, eyes that were usually confident and sure but now were nothing more than confused and lost.

"Do you know who I am? Where you are?"

You shook your head slowly but didn't move, only watching her shout another name, one that made warmth pool in the pit of your stomach, and you waited until that named joined the pair of you. Silvery blonde hair with pale rose streaks, sharp features and caramel eyes, wearing a jacket that had a familiar phrase sketched onto the back.

Through love, all is possible.

There was something odd about the way they shimmered, like they were really there but also weren't in a sense.

The blonde peered at you through her lashes, her neck tattoo of a horned, grinning wolf rippling as she gulped. The two women couldn't have been more different in looks, the dark haired woman was the personification of grace, and the blonde was rough, like she had lived through a thousand battles and could tell a million tales. You had a feeling that she had actually.

"Who are you? Do you know who I am?"

The blonde approached you, her calloused fingers curled around your wrists and you all sat down on the seating area that needed a bit more care put into its appearance, "I'm Danika, and that's Selene. We're your friends. We all live here."

The raven-haired one, Selene, smiled warmly at you, concern etched into her brows, "They said I'm the Mother? Is that true?"

Danika smirked, scoffing slightly as she said, "You're not the actual Mother, no. More of a personification of her, a reborn version of the original. You come from a world called Erilea." she explained and you nodded, allowing your eyes to drift around the room, finding serenity in certain areas of the home, by the stove in the kitchen and the bay window in the library.

"You left here to help Bryce and Ruhn, do you remember Bryce?" The despair in your face told them that you had no idea who Bryce was, "She's your friend, my best friend. They needed the help that only you could give."

"Why couldn't you help them?"

"Because we're dead," Selene admitted sadly, streaking her fingers through her waves, "You may not be the real Mother, or Urd, as they say in Lunathion. But you're much more powerful than she ever was."

"This place that we live in is a pocket universe that you created with your bare hands and pure soul, you brought us here when we died, when we had finally felt ready to move on into the afterlife and beyond."

Tilting your head at Selene, finding familiarity within her, you smiled fondly, "You're Rhys' sister?" The sound of her brother's name made tears flow down her face, and then she asked you how you knew that.

So you told them everything.

Everything from the moment you had woken up in Prythian in your armour with the glowing yellow centre and metallic talons on your fingers, armour that they had confirmed was your battle wear. You told them of living with Eris and Duke, how he had helped you to find your feet and cared for you, soothing your nightmares and placing love in your soul. You spoke of your nightmares and visions in vivid detail. You told them of how Eris had sent you to Velaris, the City of Starlight, and how Rhys had seemingly saw Selene in you.

"Rhys is incredible," you breathed, missing his comfort, "He has a mate now, a High Lady, Feyre. They have a son together, Nyx. They're beautiful."

You told them of Azriel, of his softness, of his doting encouragement and fearless flirting, of how he made you feel sane but fearless. You told them of how Cassian had revoked the pastry privileges until you agreed to train with him, they had laughed at that.

Then you spoke of the attack, of the two beings who had come to find you, who threatened Nyx. You spoke of how you killed them and nearly died yourself. And then the news that Amren had told you, everything that had brought you to the armchair where you sat, they knew.

"Is Bryce okay?"

Danika frowned, clearly worried, "I'm not sure. I hope she is. I'm hoping you saved them before you tumbled into Prythian. A world without Bryce isn't one worth living in."

"The runes," you raised your arms and allowed them to glisten in the light, "What are they?"

Selene took your hands, "Your power requires balance, control. There is no one in any universe that can rival you. You called them wyrdmarks, they were given to you when your power continued to manifest and grow, they help you to hone your abilities, without them you'd perish."

"Each one links to an aspect of your power," Danika pointed to the marred triangle on your wrist, a line split through the peak, "This one helps you to control water," she turned your hand over, "This one means that you can command the stars," her finger lay on the small of your back, "The eight pointed star here means that you are Starborn, not just one of them but the Queen," then her finger traced along the rune, or wyrdmark, curved along your collarbone, "This one is for your dragon."

"Dragon?"

Selene hummed, "You may be many things, Y/N. But before all of that, you were a Queen, a Queen of Dragons. Tia has missed you very much."

Tia.

"Tiamat is depicted in lore as a dragon with a fae-like alternate."

As if on queue, a shrieking roar sounded overhead followed by the thunderous flapping of wings that coated the house in flickering darkness. The ground rumbled, jolting as whatever it was landed on the ground outside. You couldn't understand how Selene and Danika seemed unbothered by it, like it was a common occurrence.

Something consumed you, and you bolted from the seat, rushing from the door and coming face to face with the shadow that had plagued your dreams.

Onyx scaled wings and deep violet eyes, skin the shade of the darkest night. Horns of silver and ripples of starlight appearing like veins on its surface.

A sultry dark voice infiltrated your mind.

You came back.

A soft gasp fell from your lips, the beast before you was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen, ferocious but elegant, a perfect rendition of terror and serenity.

"You called."

Flickering images poured into your head, the rippling gates of oceanic starlight in your mind finally opening and flooding you with millions of memories. Memories of love and laughter, of blood and screams, of ferocious roars and the clashing of metal, of tears and anguish, but most of all, memories of the mission you had embarked upon. The mission that still laid bare and unfinished in the palm of your hands.

"How?"

Tia craned her neck, her large head hovering before you, knowing that despite the memories flooding down your shared consciousness and into your mind, you still had a long way to go before you were ready to be you again. Sniffing the air, she caught the scent of your blood and slowly lowered herself to your abdomen, exhaling wisps of curling starlight to the location, and you felt the pain subside into nothingness.

We share a soul, you and I. Our memories are shared. We are one.

"I'm not ready."

I know. When the time is right, I know you will be.

Authors Note

It's getting hot in here...

Part Seven will be on it's way, I'm on a city break from Sunday so it'll be next week for the next part x

Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @isaxbella749 @aactuaaltraash @blackgirlmagicforever @imma-too-many-fandoms @b1ravenclaw @tsumsamu @donttellthecats @glaciuswduo @mybestfriendmademe @daardyrnitta @cleverzonkwombatsludge @sevikas-whore @yourmumsdumptruck @saltedcoffeescotch @rogersbarnesxx @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @edance2000 @lilah-asteria

(Sorry if I missed anyone x)

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Feast [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A follow up one-shot to Hail, Commander A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A filthy Commander Loki is ravenous post-battle. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Oral (F), Salirophilia (dirty Loki) Exhibitionism. Language.

The approaching drums were deafened by a low roar from Loki’s throat as he came undone. It was harsh. Ragged. It was fierce. The rush of hot breath flooded your ear, carrying the syllables of your name on wings of relief. His grip on the cape wrapped around you both loosened as he rocked you; held against the sharp drop of the balustrade safely in his arms.

“My love…” you whispered against his moist, dirt soaked brow, as Loki panted heavily into the curve of your neck. He hummed drowsily in response, hips continuing a gentle thrust to the beat of the victory procession hundreds of feet below. The heat of your lovemaking had warmed the primal scent clinging to his scalp, its tendrils winding their way deeper into your senses. The first time he had returned from battle, it had disgusted you. For a moment, at least. But now, your body only wanted more. It meant victory. It meant glory. It meant days of violently passionate fucking while he shook off the animalism and barbarity of war. You ran your fingers through his tangled hair, crusted and clumped with the stale filth of battle. The scent of blood and sweat and death clung to your fingertips, a tacky residue holding fast as you worked your digits to the back of his skull. Hail, the fallen; the lone chanter cried, hundreds of feet below. His voice was soulful and solemn, misting around the high towers like summer pollen. Hail, the shuffling crowd reprised in a haunting hymn. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline bubbling down in your blood after Loki had thoroughly claimed you, but they sounded louder now. Or maybe it was just the wind. Loki’s grip tightened around your thighs, sliding upwards. His thumbs pressed into the crooks of your pelvis, pushing your legs wider. Without raising his head, he sank to his knees; war-ravaged leathers creaking as layers of festering dirt and grime cracked. His hands settled around the pristine skin of your thighs, marking them instantly.

“Loki…” you whispered warily, glancing up to the guards standing to attention, their gazes fixed in a thousand yard stare. Hail, the deliverer; the dark victor; the faceless voice sang, soulful reverence bouncing between golden turrets which glinted in the setting sun. Hail, Loki. Hail; the crowd chanted like a prayer in the depths below the balustrade. “Loki…” you murmured again, as trumpets blew a regal tremor alongside the eerie thump of ceremonial drums. “The guards…” The victorious god chuckled against your skin before he slid his cheekbone firmly up your thigh, a possessive harshness glinting in his eyes. “I am their commander. They will do as I say.” he growled coldly, his stare never leaving yours. A muscle in his jaw bobbed as he clenched, a ferocious haze descending over his features. He turned a stained cheek to the side, the marr of slaughter and destruction smeared messily where he had rubbed against your leg. He placed a wet kiss on your knee before he spoke. “Guards! About turn.” he roared.

Your gaze fluttered from your betrothed to the dozens of Einherjar standing to attention against the columns lining the balustrade. In perfect synchronicity, each one turned in a tight semi-circle to face the interior walls. They thumped the base of their spears against the stone in receipt of their order, the cold clunk of metal making a wave of arousal flip in your stomach. His presence. His power. You had almost forgotten. Almost.

Loki’s fingers resumed their iron grip around your thighs, sliding the hem of the dress gathered around your hips higher. “I trust this satisfies you…” he murmured, the brilliant blues of his irises startling against the shadows of brutal deeds layering his face. You thrust forward, aching to feel him against you; letting your hands wander over the buckles of his armour.

The leather felt ragged beneath your touch; burnt and battered. You could feel the tacky stick of warmed blood beneath your fingertips; the proof of his violent prowess. “We can wait...until...after the feast.” you panted half-heartedly, feeling his cracked lips graze against your freshly cum-soaked folds. Loki looked up from between your legs, the heroic commander on his knees ready to devour your glorious pussy. You could feel his seed pooling in thick drips on the stone below. His eyes were wide, brows slanted in mock innocence. “Oh, love…” he purred darkly, as his softness melted to a mischievous smirk. “But I haven’t eaten in days.” The prince’s nose nudged against your slit, making you groan shamelessly above him. “You know how ravenous I become after the rage of battle, love.” he purred, smirking against your hot, wet cunt. “You would not deny your Commander. Would you?”

You shook your head silently, fingers gripping the side of the cold stone balustrade. Loki inhaled deeply, letting it go with a shuddering sigh. Without another word, his warm tongue melted to your core; licking a flat stripe which made you jerk against his face. The filthy god’s fingers wrapped around your calves, pausing to hoist them over his shoulders. The grime-coated gold of his armoured epaulettes slid against your bare skin; the chill making you buck into his open mouth. Your back arched against the glittering lights of Asgard; darkening skies illuminated by the ethereal glow of thousands of candles held in homage by grateful citizens below. Were they praying to the god kneeling between your splayed thighs? You hoped they were. Loki’s tongue slid in messy kisses against your sex, searching every soft pleasure point as he sucked his sacred cum from your centre. Muffled moans of pleasure sounded against your heat, his unfettered enthusiasm loud and wet against the rock of your hips. The naked curve of your ass scratched against filth-soaked leather as the god suckled your clit, moving in rhythmic swirls that coated your womanhood in waves of unbearable pleasure. Your lover leant you backwards so you hovered at an angle off the edge of the balustrade. Gusts of warm dusk air skated over your bristling skin, melting into the dangerous thrill of his obsession. Hail, the victorious dead; the bellman called below, a resounding chorus following the settling of his words; echoing in the night. Hail. The call made your pussy clench, sweet juices beginning to spill against Loki’s lips. He groaned wistfully, tightening his grip around your thighs hanging against his shoulders. You wound your hands in his hair, feeling the familiar resistant tug of crusted sweat and dirt which covered every war-drenched inch of him.

Hail, our Benevolent Protector. Our God. Hail. Your gaze lingered between your legs, the sight of his unmistakeable dark curls bobbing against folds of silk as he dove further sending waves of bravado through your veins. “Did you think of this while you slit the enemies throats, my prince?” you gasped, feeling him nod slowly against the methodical slide of his tongue. “Did you b-burn their world... and their hope... take their lives, uhhh g-gods... just to feast on the pussy you c-crave?” you murmured, seeing a violent shiver roll over his broad shoulders as he moaned in response.

His nose slid into view as he leant back ever so slightly. He knew when you were watching. He always did.

Slowly, Loki licked from the pucker of your ass to your clit, the width of his tongue hovering against the swollen bundle as he lapped gently. The flat massaged the underside, every soft, soaked caress accompanied by a deep groan simmering in his throat. “Did you...f-fuck...miss the taste of me?” you whimpered, seeing him nod again with his brow creased in shameless adoration. The pressure of his talented mouth latched to your sex was incomparable; a light wind rustling against your shoulder-blades making it feel primordial. And perhaps it was. You caught a glimpse of your blackened inner thighs as he dipped lower, grime marks from the slide of his skin and the rub of his hair making you as filthy as he. The unspeakable paint of war coating his sharp cheeks and chin rubbed against your swollen sex, eagerly disappearing in messy slurps down the god’s throat as he lost himself between your spread thighs. Loki could feel you beginning to shake against him as you tried to control yourself, a smirk tugging at his dimples as he put on a show. Relishing you falling apart like foam on the shore beneath his tongue. If there was one thing Loki of Asgard loved more than public adulation, it was giving head. You let out a shameless moan as the low blow of trumpets sang beneath the balustrade, a fervent hum from the citizens now gathered in the square below accompanying the conclusion of the traditional victory prayers. Hail, Commander. the bellman roared; the final steps of his journey giving new gravitas to the most sacred chant. Hail, the crowd refrained. Their intensity rose like a wave of heat, wisping against the back of your hair as your head fell back.

“Do you w-want me to..uhhh-fuck, cum in your m-mouth, Commander?” you gasped between shaky breaths. A loud moan shuddered through you as Loki rumbled against your wet slit, a whine of need bubbling on his lips. You wound one hand through his blood-crusted hair, the other clutching tightly around the ledge of stone beneath your ass. A surge of power vibrated as you pressed the commander deeper into your pussy, his searching tongue curling inside your channel as you rocked against his face. How many women in the streets below would slay their own grandmother for what you had between your legs this very moment? And many men, too; you’d wager.

Loki’s grip tightened around your femurs as he smothered himself. He shook his smooth jaw slowly back and forth, teasing every aching inch of protracted pleasure from your approaching orgasm. He would be soaking. The dulled shine of his battle-leathers glinted in the torchlight, dark stains of brown and red and black sliding easily from his armour to your fresh, perfumed skin. Hail, our Victorious Commander; came the final forceful shout; as violently clear as though the man the voice belonged to was standing by your shoulder. Hail, Commander. Hail; the crowd roared in unison. There was a rapturous cheer as the drumbeats quickened, signalling the arrival of the procession to the main square of Asgard set below the balustrade. Loki’s tongue delved deeper against your cunt, his carefully timed laps burrowing against the source of your undoing. You bucked into him, his name a strangled cry in your throat as you tugged gently at tangled curls. Fingernails dragged down the leather of his overcoat, feeling a layer of enemy blood gathering beneath them. With a final twisted groan, you came over his waiting tongue. Hot arousal flooded his mouth, a welcoming sigh of pleasure sounding from the leader of Asgard's victorious forces as you rocked against his face. Loki could spend hours buried in your cunt; although tonight you suspected you would not be afforded that luxury. “Commander?” a low voice muttered nervously. Your eyes snapped up in alarm, seeing a young guard trembling to your side – facing away from the scene. Had he walked backwards towards the two of you? You thought he must have, if he valued his life. Loki was still lost in your heat, carefully gathering every drop of your cum with fastidiously gentle precision. Your fingers ran lovingly under his chin, cupping the angle of his jaw. His sex-drunk eyes rose to yours, stare hardening as he finally registered the unwelcome figure off to the side. “What?” he spat incredulously, not deigning to rise from where he was spread on his knees in full battle armour on the stone before you. The guard cleared his throat. “Majesty, I am bound to ask you to make your way to the feasting hall. The Allfather impatiently awaits your glorious return, Commander” Loki sighed. “Go.” he ordered bluntly, watching with growing amusement as the terrified guard hurried away without looking back. He lowered your legs from his shoulders, rising regally to his full height. Flickering lamplight illuminated his ghostly features, a glistening slick shimmering around his mouth and jaw revealing his familiar perfectly fair skin beneath the dirt. His lower face. It was the only part of him that was clean.

You closed your legs reluctantly, taking the hand of the victorious god and standing from your perch on the balustrade. The silk of your dress fell against your newly dirt-smeared legs, the folds of antique fabric stained with the same unspeakable remnants of battle as your lover. As your Commander. “It’s incredibly obvious that you have been busy on your return, my prince.” you smirked, biting your lip as you regarded his increasingly dishevelled state. If it were possible, he was even more of a mess than before. Loki chuckled, flicking his tangled hair as the new layer of saliva and cum settled against his war-worn features. “My love, it is us...” he purred, raising your hand and turning it over. He set a kiss down on the delicate underside of your wrist, the cracked sheet of grime covering his beautiful face doing nothing to hide the mirth playing beneath it. “They would not expect anything less.”

A/N: Thank you @simplyholl for being absolutely feral the night she read Hail Commander and immediately hitting me up with this mental image. You're the best my lil smut-sugarplum, I hope I delivered on our vision! Tags @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @smolvenger @fictional-hooman

[dearsnow]

I WOULD DO IT AGAIN

Part 1 || Part 2

- after the disastrous events of last night’s party, patrick comes back to dig out the truth (patrick verona x gn!reader, fluff, ⚠️ themes of alcohol / being drunk, this is the second part).

word count: 1457

a/n - it’s done!!!!! tysm to the people that read and enjoyed part one. i’m planning to write for patrick more, so stick around if you want to :) once again, this is inspired by the vibes of francesca by hozier

You wake to dappled sunlight filtering through your dust-speckled blinds. Your eyes flutter closed again as the gentle caresses of the morning are giving you a splitting headache- that, or the sheer amount of alcohol you downed last night. You move to pull the covers over your head, but your sheets are stuck on the corner of your bed. You just slip down further instead, groaning at the needling pains attacking your forehead.

When you try to think of the events of last night, past the time you spent dancing to the beat of pulsing strobe lights, very little comes to mind. Even the dancing is blurry. A warm voice, maybe, and the cold night air. The stars, spinning. Everything being blurry and broken and tinged with blue. God, your head hurts. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to soothe the ache.

When your front door opens, breaking your early-morning silence, you curse the god that sent your parents home so early. You will never know peace today.

Your door creaks open, and you snuggle down under your covers until your feet are almost hanging off the bed. You can’t let them know you’ve been out drinking. You hope they just think you’re being a moody teenager, too chronically tired to wake up earlier than 10:00 AM.

“You up?” The voice is rich, deep, and lightly accented. It’s definitely not your parents.

You shuffle up, poking your head out of your mess of blankets. You wince as your headache spits more of its fire.

“Pat?” Your throat is dry, and it’s reflected in your words. They come out scratchy and hoarse, and you wrinkle your nose at how pathetic you must look and sound. Does he know what happened when you got wasted?

Like he can read your mind, he closes the door and sits down on your bed. “You were pretty fucking wild last night. Got me worried.”

“You? Worried? About me?” You laugh, voice still on the rocks. “Usually it’s the other way around.”

Patrick smiles, but there’s something sad laced between his teeth. It shows through his eyes, how his dark brown irises look at you like a mourning dog. You sit up.

“What even happened at the party?” You ask. “I don’t even remember you being there.” You must’ve done something horrific to make him look like that. Did you flip off a police officer or scream at him?

Usually, you’re put together. A model citizen, even. Usually, you’re the one influencing him to be better. Usually, usually. Last night was definitely not a usual night.

His smile disappears from his lips, and a worried frown replaces it. He knows he has to bring it up. He debated it over and over in his head at home. Even on the trip to your house he was still trying to decide if he should tell you or not. He knows, though, that if he was the one drunk out of his mind, you would tell him the truth. You wouldn’t keep it from him. Besides, the burn inside him aches to know if what you said was true. “You said something stupid.” He mutters.

You internally punch yourself but groan out loud. You knew it. Why did you ever let yourself get that drunk? You should’ve just stayed home.

“What did I say?”

“You said…” He looks away, and you can’t help but notice how he keeps avoiding eye contact. “You said you loved me.”

That kickstarts your heart. Now your chest is pounding and you can hear the ringing in your head. You can feel the pulsing heat, the burn that comes with this.

“I know you didn’t mean it. People do stupid shit when they’re drunk. Don’t worry about it.” He says gruffly. He moves to stand up, but in a you grab his hand after a brief moment of hesitation.

You do love him. So, so much. “I wasn’t lying.” You whisper, and his eyes widen the slightest bit.

For a minute, you remember that this was exactly how he looked last night. Curls wild, the smell of smoke clinging to his body. And you love him just as fiercely now as you did then.

“You don’t regret it?” His voice shakes a little at the end of his sentence.

You’re panicking now. You’ve never done anything like this before, and today was not the day you were planning on starting. Every single possibility is racing through your mind, and you feel like you might throw up, but you have to tell the truth. You’ve gotten this far already- it would be cruel to leave your best friend hanging.

“I would do it again. Sober, I mean. I love you.”

You stare up at him, and he stares back at you. His eyes are broken like shattered glass, and when he sees you in his cracked lenses, the tears beginning to well up in your eyes could almost be glue.

It’s true. You actually love him, and it wasn’t just a stupid drunken confession. You didn’t latch on to the first friendly face you saw. You love him, of all people. Him. Patrick.

“You do?” His voice is quiet and just a little hoarse. His mind is reeling. Your words play like a mantra in his head, repeating over and over until the word “love” sounds like a made-up sound meant to rhyme with “dove” in a children’s novel. “Why?”

He isn’t deserving of it, he thinks. He could never deserve a love as great, as gentle, as beautiful as yours. He always assumed he would love in hellfire and smashed plates. Never once did he consider that you loved him back, and that he could have someone as good as the person staring back at him with messy hair and soft eyes.

You tilt your head. Why? He should know why by now. “I mean, what isn’t to love? You say it all the time.” He looks terrified and elated all at once.

“Well, yeah, but why?” He moves closer to you, his weight causing your bed to dip. The sheets wrinkle under his touch and the sunlight is bleeding through his hair. You have never seen anything more beautiful before.

“I love you because you’re funny. Not just in the class clown way, but you’re really genuinely funny. You always make me laugh every time I’m having a bad day. And you’re caring and strong and supportive. I mean, I’m pretty sure you were the one that took me home last night. You care about everyone a lot more than you seem to think. You’re talented, too, and really smart.” He snorts at that, and you add on. “Yeah, I know, you skip classes and stuff but you catch onto things quickly. And you’re good at figuring out how to work my appliances, which can come in handy.” You take a breath. “What I’m trying to say, Pat, is that I really do like you. In a serious, genuine, love-filled way.”

You feel the ramble lifting an incredible weight off your shoulders. You got it out, after so long of loving the boy that grew to be your best friend. It’s done. Even if he doesn’t love you back, at least you’re not carrying this intense, heartbreaking burden.

Patrick opens his mouth slightly, then closes it as he thinks about his words.

“That’s good.”

You feel it all coming back down to crush you.

“Good?”

“Yeah, good. ‘Cuz I love you too.”

And suddenly, you’re flying. It barely feels real, and you smile harder than you ever have in your entire life. “You do?”

You feel his rough hands come up to settle on your face, and you relish the warmth. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning over your nose.

“Of course I do. You’re a catch.” He says. You laugh, he smiles, and he leans in further. You feel his slightly chapped lips on yours, and suddenly, nothing else in the world has any significance.

It’s gentle and soft, despite his rough edges. You can feel his curls tickling your chin, and he smiles into the kiss. When he pulls away, you’re left with the tingling sensation of touch and a heart that’s beating a mile a minute.

“I liked that.” You grin, breathless and wild. His cheeks are flushed.

“You better get used to it, then. There’s more where ‘that’ came from.” His thumb draws circles on your cheek.

He dips to the side, tilting his head to whisper something into your ear.

“Unless, of course, you actually do regret it.”

The corners of your mouth lift up involuntarily as you whisper something into his.

“Like I said, I would do it again.”

[whitedarkmoonflower]

The promise

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female) Authors note: am I back on my angst track? yeah, probably so and I love it. Sorry 😅 Warnings: angst, hurt with very little comfort, implied sexual abuse, attempted suicide - yes it has a happy ending 😉 Summary: for his own good you wrung a promise from Sihtric that left your both hearts bleeding Word Count: 3,8 K

"Come with me, and I'll show you the world," the wind whispered, playfully tousling your hair. You reached out as if trying to grasp the warm air swirling around you. Mischievous, it only chuckled at your futile attempt, echoing the birds' songs heralding the dawn of a new day. It tangled in the tattered remnants of your dress, gathering fallen leaves from the ground and whisking them into a wild dance before carrying them away, allowing them to cascade onto the jagged rocks below the cliff.

"I can't fly," you murmured, tilting your head and marveling at the way your fingers shimmered in the light of the rising sun. Your slender, weathered hand, adorned with blisters and scratches, suddenly appeared fragile and exquisite, almost translucent and aglow in the gentle blue and orange hues of the early sunlight.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," the playful breeze assured, its caress gentle against your cheeks, almost imperceptible in its fleeting softness. It stirred a memory, a distant echo of tender touches long forgotten, as if they'd never existed.

You flinched at the sound of small stones loosening, merrily cascading down into the abyss, while you adjusted your weight and shuffled your bare, dirt-stained feet, as you leaned  against the rough logs of the fortress's sturdy outer wall.

"Can I trust you?" you wondered, eyes wide open, captivated by the soft hues painting the horizon.

"I'll lead you to him. Just one more step, and you'll be free," the wind enticed, its gentle laughter fading into the distance.

A silent exhale escaped your lips, swallowed by the hushed whisper of the wind. "Wait for me. I'm coming with you."

You had faithfully kept your promise, day after day, mustering the strength to carry on. Day after day of  waning hope, hope that never truly had the right to exist. Had he kept his promise? A single tear traced its path down your cheek, leaving a salty trail in its wake. Yes, he had. And that’s why you were here now, determined to finally break yours.

"Please, let me see it," rough yet gentle fingers cradled your chin, lifting your head as they carefully swept back the strands of hair obscuring your face. 

He was too close, his breath lingering heavily upon your skin, the scent of ale from his lips wafting to your nostrils. You loved the warmth of his body, a stark contrast to your perpetually cold hands. You loved his arms enveloping your shoulders, drawing you close in an embrace, an unfailing source of comfort for you. You lived for that shy smile of his mismatched eyes, as he affectionately tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear or brushed imaginary dirt from your cheeks, too timid to touch you otherwise. 

The first time he had dared to kiss you, your breaths mingling as his lips weightlessly hovered over yours, made your heart skip a beat. But not today.

You struggled to maintain shallow breaths, attempting to alleviate the dull ache that persisted each time your lungs expanded, stretching your ribs. With eyes tightly shut, the grinding sound of your gritted teeth echoing in your ears, you sensed his fingers trembling ever so slightly as they delicately traversed the purple and blue marks around your eyes, and traced the red lines etched across your cheeks, halting at the corner of your mouth. His thumb's touch, as he sought to remove dried blood, elicited a wince, the sharp sting from the pressure on your swollen lip for a short moment overshadowing the ache in your ribs.

You had refused to cry. Not when the weighty ringed hand struck your face, sending you sprawling. Not when the coarse fingers, like iron claws, tangled in your hair and forcefully yanked your head back, the repugnant stench from the rotten, yellow-toothed mouth assaulting your senses. Not when… 

No, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken. Your body could bear the bruises, your body might be his, your soul and mind remained your own.

It was only later that you realised it wasn't your brokenness he had sought. It wasn't your tears he had yearned to extract.

You didn’t want to cry now either, but the tears betrayed you, burning in the corners of your eyes despite all your efforts.

"Did he do that to you?" It sounded like a question, but both of you knew the answer all too well. The pounding of your heart intensified with each passing moment. You tried to calm it, to quiet its thunderous beats, but it refused to heed your silent pleas, transforming into a tumultuous roar of war drums in your ears.

You trembled, the sensation starting deep within, a subtle quiver that steadily expanded, wresting control of your body from your grasp.

"It's my fault," a whisper reached your ears, and you snapped your eyes open, Sihtric’s  trembling voice cutting through the deafening thud of your heart.

You wanted to speak, but the words got caught in your throat, only a loud sob managing to escape through gritted teeth as you took a step back. The rough surface of the stable wall brushed against your skin through the thin layer of your ragged clothes, denying you an escape. 

You had always found solace in the scent of fresh straw, the rhythmic snorts of the animals, and the comforting warmth emanating from their bodies. This was your hidden refuge, where you sought shelter night after night. It was here that Sihtric had found you, his gaze almost passing over you until the traitorous moon slipped out from behind the clouds, revealing your presence as you held your breath in the farthest corner.

Your own weight suddenly unbearable, you sank to the ground, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees as you buried your face.

"Go away," you demanded, your breath catching in your chest. You attempted to sound resolute, even angry, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "Please, just leave me alone," your voice cracked, morphing into a soft, pleading sob.

Sihtric’s arms hung awkwardly by his sides, his entire body tense, his fists clenched and unclenched with anger, his gaze caressing your crouched and trembling form on the ground, unsure whether he could approach you, whether he could touch you.

He had tried to protect you, to care for you, quietly and unobtrusively. Yet, in doing so, he had unwittingly become your doom. 

The sight of you shattered his heart, again. He hadn’t realised it could be broken more than once. He had believed it dead, burned by the flames that had greedily consumed the pyre, erasing the last remnants of the only person who had ever shown him kindness and love.

He had believed himself incapable of love, of caring for another, of feeling anything beyond the all consuming hatred, anger and thirst for revenge. That was all before he had met you. 

There was something in your eyes as you glanced up at him, your dishevelled hair cascading loosely over your shoulders and falling across your smudged face, as you were towed in a line of new slaves behind the sturdy black stallion carrying Tekil.

Your hands were bound, your clothes half-torn and soiled, your bare feet stumbling as you made your way forward. He felt the urge to turn away, to hasten down from the ramparts to attend to his new master. The horse needed care, the weapons required cleaning.

You looked up, and your gazes met fleetingly, like a wounded deer gazing in terror at the encroaching predator.

But there was more than fear and despair in those deep, wide eyes. A hint of defiance mingled with resilience and a spark of life. There was such a strong will to live, a resolve to survive in those large, tearful eyes that seemed to bore into his mind, glimpsing into his very soul.

He knew the life awaiting you would shatter that resolve, break you, erase even the faintest trace of your own will, wrapping you in suffering and self-loathing like a glove wraps the hand. And he couldn't bear the thought of it. He couldn’t bear that there was nothing he could do about it. Or could he?

You lingered too long, gazing at the young boy on the upper ramparts. The sudden tug on the rope fastened to you caught you off guard, causing you to lose your balance and emit a cry of pain as your knees collided with the hard ground.

Sihtric’s hands instinctively clasped Thor's hammer around his neck, his lips forming silent words of an unspoken promise, a vow, to not let that happen, to not let that spark be wiped off. Not letting go of the pendant, he prayed to the gods for the day he could  whisk you away from this accursed place and witness a smile lighting up those beautiful eyes.

From that day forward, his seemingly futile existence had acquired a new purpose. A hesitant smile exchanged in the hallways, a warm, compassionate glance shared in the great hall, a hand that didn’t take a swing, but stretched out to help you back on your feet, that was all he dared to offer at first. 

He saw your red, swollen eyes, your diminishing frame with each passing week, the trembling of your hands as you served ale, and the deepening darkness in your gaze. It was not enough. He knew he was miserably failing to uphold the promise he had made to himself and to the gods.

The feast in the great hall of Dunholm was in full swing. Laughter filled the room, mingling with drunken revelry, boasting of recent victories and tales of triumphs. Sihtric sat at the long table on the left, squeezed between Tekil’s men. It was his first time being permitted to join them there.

Tekil wasn't a cruel man; he was a steely, battle hardened warrior, yes, but not one who reveled in the suffering of others. He had taken Sihtric in after the execution of his mother. He had vouched for him before Kjartan, pledging to mould him into a warrior. And there Sihtric sat in his father's great hall, striving to remain unnoticed, to hide himself behind the sturdy frames of the other warriors, his fingers wrapped around the ale mug, yet hesitating to lift it to his lips.

You were in the midst of serving ale, shuddering each time a rough palm landed on your buttocks, laughter echoing through the hall as you refilled mugs and set pitchers on the tables. Sihtric's eyes tracked your movements between the tables, hastily averting his gaze each time you seemingly turned his way. As you approached his table, a sudden warmth flooded Sihtric's cheeks, his heartbeat quickening.

"I see you've taken a liking to this little bird," Sihtric nearly jumped from his seat, hearing that all too familiar voice in his ear, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. "She's far too bony for my taste; you can have her," a sly smile curved Kjartan's lips as he turned to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you roughly closer with one swift motion.

A soft yelp trembled on your lips, causing Kjartan's smile to widen into a grin. "Come on, boy. Saddle this mare, show me you're a man. Tekil promised he'd shape you into one."

With a forceful shove from Kjartan, you stumbled into Sihtric's lap, the laughter from all sides echoing through the air, assaulting your ears. Two strong arms encircled your waist and effortlessly lifted you. Desperate to break free, you attempted to wriggle out of the grip, but the jovial laughter in the hall only grew louder as you were hoisted over a broad shoulder and carried away.

Sihtric slammed shut the door of his tiny, windowless room, setting you down on your feet. You retreated instantly and your back collided with the solid door, eyes fixed on Sihtric, unable to quell the shaking of your limbs. By now, you knew he was Kjartan’s son—a bastard, yet his own flesh and blood, surely eager to please his father and earn his recognition.

"Please," it was barely a whisper, a silent breath trembling on your lips, your voice caught in your dried-up throat as you lowered your gaze, unwilling to appear as though you were challenging him. "Don't hurt me."

You understood your plea was likely in vain, that he didn't care. But there was nothing else you could do, so you begged, hoping to strike some hidden chord behind those large, oddly mismatched eyes that had followed you so many times.

You had thought them kind, seeking solace in them amidst the crowded hall, grounding yourself in the warmth of their gaze, clinging to the hope of having found a soul not tainted by malevolence, perhaps even a friendly one to guide you through your misery.

It had all been an illusion—a dream twisted into a nightmare, as you felt Sihtric’s rapid breath on your neck, his well built frame looming over you. "Please," you repeated, your voice trembling uncontrollably, words dissolving into soft sobs as your hands panickedly crumpled your skirt.

The terror in your voice sent a shiver down Sihtric’s spine. You saw him as the enemy. You thought him like his father—someone who relished in the suffering of others, ready to assert dominance through force for his own amusement. And he couldn’t blame you for that.  As much as he cursed the legacy running through his veins, he was who he was. His father’s son. Shame burning him from within, like that pyre fire, erasing his sweetest memories, he reached out to place his hands on your shoulders. 

"I won't hurt you. Do you hear me?" But you didn't. Panic had engulfed you entirely, the rush of blood in your ears deafening, the frantic pounding of your heart pushing you to the brink of consciousness, your senses sharpened to a painful clarity.

This was the moment the other women had warned you about, the moment they had tried to prepare you for. "Don't resist; it will only make it worse," they had told you. 

"Don't resist," their  warning echoed in your mind. But you couldn't. The moment two rough palms landed on your shoulders, you screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks as you fought in fury against them, your cries ringing through the room.

Sihtric released you instantly, hastily stepping back with his hands raised in the air, trying to show he meant no harm.

"Please, just listen to me," he pleaded, but you were too consumed by fear to register his words. Your eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for an escape, but finding none, they settled back on Sihtric. Meeting his gaze, you bared your teeth like a wild animal, your breaths coming in rapid, shallow gasps, as if preparing for a leap.

"I won't touch you," Sihtric's soft voice gently washed over your alerted senses. Why would he say that? What kind of trap was this? Thoughts fluttered through your mind like startled birds. "I… I'm not like my father. I mean you no harm, I swear," Sihtric took another step back, giving you space.

"W-what do you mean?" you stuttered, pressing yourself even harder against the door as if trying to meld with it.

"You are safe with me, I promise," Sihtric's eyes searched your face expectantly, hoping for some sign that you might consider believing him.

And oddly enough you did. Against reason, against everything you had been told and warned about, you believed him. You wanted to believe him; you had nothing left in this world to believe in, and so you chose to believe in the young man standing before you, in that warm, friendly, and inexplicably sad fire burning in his eyes.

You placed your small, cold hand in his outstretched palm, slowly and carefully, holding your breath in anticipation, your heart pounding against the cage of your ribs. He took a step closer, leaning in until his forehead touched yours.

"Please, don't be afraid of me," he whispered, his arms tentatively finding their way around your shoulders, as if afraid you would push them away again. But you didn't. You allowed yourself to melt into his strong embrace, burying your nose in Sihtric's broad chest as tears of relief soaked his leather armour.

"Stupid boy, you didn’t even hump her," Kjartan's words struck Sihtric like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky. "The bitch was still a virgin."

Sihtric's legs turned into heavy logs, a desperate urge to flee coursing through him, yet he remained rooted to the spot under his father's scrutinising gaze. "Maybe I was mistaken and you didn't even fancy her?" Kjartan continued with a grin. "Tell me, scum, do you prefer boys instead?"

Not a muscle twitched in Sihtric's face as Kjartan's hand rested heavily on his shoulder. "No, I was right. You desire her, you crave her," his hot breath in Sihtric's ear seared him. 

"You should have heard her. A feisty little thing, squealing like a pig. You know I enjoy it when they resist. It makes it much more enjoyable," Kjartan patted him consolingly on the shoulder, a wicked smirk forming on his lips, then turned to leave. "Tekil has a task, and he's taking you with him. You're departing at dawn tomorrow. Now, go fetch your little bird and enjoy her before it's too late."

It had all been in vain. Those hidden lingering glances, those fleeting touches, those stolen kisses in the secluded corners of the kitchen away from prying eyes—they all amounted to nothing. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from harm. Instead, he had inadvertently brought about your downfall, as he hadn’t managed to hide how much you mattered to him.

"Go away," you cried out once more, lifting your head to meet his gaze. The pain in his large, searching eyes squeezed your racing heart, prompting you to quickly look away. You didn't blame him; he was the sole reason your existence in this place had felt somewhat bearable. But it was all too much. Your own pain was enough, and you couldn't bear to add his to the burden.

"I can't," a throaty whisper escaped his lips as he lowered himself to the ground, aligning his height with yours, and gently crouched by your side. You shuddered at the touch of his arms around your trembling frame, yet you couldn't muster the strength to push him away.

You sat in the moonlight, surrounded by eerie shadows that danced around you each time an impish cloud attempted to obscure the large, pale disc in the dark sky. No words were needed; the enveloping silence spoke volumes, conveying more than any sound ever could.

"I'm leaving tomorrow at dawn," Sihtric's hoarse voice seemed to come from another world, and you heart stopped beating. The darkness crept from the corners, slowly enveloping you, draining the remaining colours from your life. "Tekil is taking me with him. It’s going to be a long trip, not just an ordinary patrol."

Turning your head, you reached out and cupped his face, your thumb gliding over his wet cheeks as Sihtric leaned into your touch.

"Promise me something," you whispered, summoning strength you didn't know you possessed.

"I will come back to you, I swear. I'll return, and one day I'll take you away from here," Sihtric's hand found yours, pulling your palm to his lips where he placed tender kisses upon your wrist.

"No," you vehemently shook your head. "No, this is your chance, Sihtric. Promise me you will not return. Promise me you'll do everything in your power to escape, to leave this cursed place behind and never look back. Promise me," your voice grew louder, your eyes searching his. "Promise me!" you demanded, desperation creeping into your tone.

"What? I... I can't... Don't you see it? Don't you feel it? I love you. Do you understand what you're asking of me?"

"I know. And God is my witness, I love you too. But if you love me, you'll promise me this. And you'll keep that promise, Sihtric Kjartansson. Knowing that you have a chance for a new life away from this hell on earth is the only thing that will keep me alive," your voice quivered with excitement.

Will he miss me? Will he remember me? You bit down on your tongue, forbidding yourself from voicing these questions that swirled in your mind. You had to let go. You had to set him free. This was the only way, the only chance, at least for one of you.

"Promise me," you insisted, your gaze locked with Sihtric's, glowing with a hint of madness.

"I'll give you that promise, if you swear to keep waiting. If you swear to not give up on this life," Sihtric's fingers squeezed yours painfully.

"I promise to keep waiting for you never coming back," you pledged without a moment's hesitation. "I promise to carry on, to endure. For you."

"I promise," Sihtric's voice broke as he tried to speak the next words, but your expectant, feverish gaze compelled him to continue. "Then I promise not to come back."

"Swear it," you demanded, wrapping his fingers around the pendant on his neck.

"I swear," it was barely a whisper, just a silent breath, escaping his lips as he gave the oath that was breaking his heart. He pulled you into his embrace, lips nuzzling your hair, inhaling your scent and feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, as he tried to store it all in his memory forever, not feeling ashamed for the tears trailing down his cheeks and disappearing into your dishevelled hair.

Weird sounds emanating from within the fortress drew your attention away from your memories—men shouting and hounds howling. You covered your ears with both hands, attempting to stifle the daunting sounds. It wasn't the first time Kjartan entertained himself by setting his hellhounds on some poor soul who had earned his wrath.

It was time. You were ready. Straightening yourself, you parted from the rough, grounding wall behind your back.

"One step, just one more step into freedom," you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes.

You shuddered upon hearing your name being called, the sound reaching you from the other side of the wall, oddly familiar. No, it couldn't be. You shook your head in an attempt to dispel the illusion your mind was conjuring to confuse you.

With eyes closed, you raised your foot for your last step, feeling the ground disappearing from beneath you, ready to fly away, to trust the alluring promise of the wind you knew to be insidious.

You cried out in despair as you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back. Eyes still shut, you fought against them, believing Kjartan’s men had found you, until a soft voice from your dreams spoke your name again, causing you to finally open your eyes wide with disbelief and fear as if seeing a ghost.

“Why did you break your promise?” was all you managed to whisper.

“To prevent you from breaking yours,” two mismatched eyes sadly smiled at you. “Kjartan is dead. You are free.”

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey

[cariantha]

In a Mood

Book: Open Heart, Book 3 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mention of pregnancy Category: Grumpy/Sunshine; Angst Word count: 1.3K Prompt: From @kyra75, “Sunshine is humming and singing constantly, while grumpy at best just tolerates it quietly.” A/N: This is a prequel to their proposal fic.💍Hope you don’t mind, Kyra, but I reversed the grumpy/sunshine roles.🤭

Ethan stepped out of the high-end jewelry store, twirling his keys around his finger and sporting an uncontrollable grin. He whistled a happy, upbeat tune as he walked down the block to where he had parallel parked. Settling into the leather seat of his Jaguar, he started the ignition and cranked up the stereo. Safely merged into traffic, his fingers drummed to the classic rock beat as he sang along. “l said, are you gonna be my girl… 🎵🎶🎵… I say you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine… 🎵🎶🎵”

Sawyer woke on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe because it wasn’t the comfy bed she became accustomed to. She’d been sleeping in Ethan’s for the better part of the past year but stayed at her apartment last night to start packing. Her lease ended in a couple of months, and despite Ethan’s offers to pay the penalty for breaking the lease early to encourage her to move in with him, Sawyer insisted on keeping her room until after her board exams. The six-foot-four, blue-eyed sex machine was too great a distraction when she needed to hunker down and study. 

Shuffling down the hall and into the kitchen, she found Sienna balancing a mixing bowl on her hip while she swayed back and forth, singing a Taylor Swift hit. When Sienna noticed her, she shoved a batter-coated spoon into Sawyer's face, suggesting she take over lead vocals, but Sawyer shook her head and grumbled. “Sorry, Sienna. I’m not awake enough for the Eras tour.”

The day continued in the same irritable fashion. She was fifteen seconds late catching the T. While she waited for the next one to arrive, a street musician embarrassingly circled and serenaded her with “The Lady in Red,” making her wish she had picked a different color jacket this morning.

Later, she watched from the gallery as Bryce led his first heart-lung transplant. He bobbed his head and lip-synced to a mix of 90’s alternative rock playing through the operating room’s speaker system. The intro to “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence began to play. 

“Ohhh yeah,” Bryce hyped and looked to the gallery. “Brooks! It’s our song. Sing with me!” 

Not one to usually shy away from some lighthearted fun, Sawyer just couldn’t get past her funk this morning. “I’m good, buddy.” 

After a couple more headbangers, Sawyer wished him luck on the rest of the procedure and went back to work. 

That afternoon, Ethan suggested a walk to Derry’s Roasters. On the way, he began to whistle a chirpy tune. It was familiar, probably a melody from one of the arias from the opera they attended a few nights ago. “Ugh, not you, too,” she muttered. Ethan wasn’t usually a whistling and humming guy, but something was definitely in the air today, and she seemed to be allergic to whatever it was. 

“Did you say something?” Ethan asked. 

“It was nothing.” 

The annoying merriment continued into the evening hours. Music sounded from the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen as her man prepared dinner. It wasn’t loud, but he sang along with the lyrics. Ethan Ramsey was singing! It should have brought a huge smile to her face and forced her into a fit of laughter, but for reasons she could not explain, it grated on her. 

She fake-smiled her way through dinner, not wanting to project her foul mood on her disgustingly happy boyfriend. When Ethan hopped in the shower and started humming another melody, Sawyer grabbed her phone and headed to the balcony. She texted her best friend, hoping Christian would allow her to vent.  

A couple of days had passed since her text exchange with Christian. Saywer’s moodiness was at an all-time high, though she tried to curb it, especially around Ethan. He had been so sweet the past several days and had done nothing to deserve her bite. 

Hoping a jog would burn off some of the negative energy, Sawyer headed to the waterfront. As she ran along the boardwalk, she made a mental note to shop for a new sports bra because this one felt like it was lacking support. With every pound of the pavement, her breasts ached. Midway through her route, she had to stop for a breather, her body heavy with an unusual fatigue. 

When another female jogger pushing a stroller passed and politely waved, a potentially life-altering thought occurred to her. One that detoured her to the pharmacy on the way back to Ethan’s apartment. 

Sawyer heard his happy tune when he entered the apartment later that evening. Finding her in the kitchen prepping dinner, Ethan greeted her with a “Hi” and kissed her temple. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

As he put his things away and changed into more comfortable clothes, Sawyer could hear the song he whistled on his lips getting louder as he returned to the kitchen.

Even if she found his carefree mood annoying lately, she couldn’t deny him his happiness. Her heart hurt knowing there was an excellent chance he wouldn't be humming or whistling much in the days to come. Because Ethan Ramsey didn't see kids in his future. He said as much two and a half years ago. When she had asked him the question, the fMRI scan of his brain confirmed it.

Ethan stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her from neck to cheek. He greeted her with a proper kiss when she turned her face toward him. "How was your day off, baby?" he asked.

Baby. 

Sawyer hesitated before answering. With his hand splayed over her stomach, she wanted to say, "It was shocking, and I'm terrified to tell you because it's going to change everything." 

Instead, she shrugged and answered with a deceiving truth. "I went for a jog, ran some errands, and waited for test results."

Ethan kissed her temple again and gently moved her to the side to take over dinner prep. "Stop stressing over those test results, Rookie. You've got nothing to worry about."

Sawyer stepped behind him to hide the mist gathering in her eyes. She squeezed him around the waist, and to herself, she said, "Please let that be true."  

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

[devieuls]

ˋ Déjà-vu .

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : The Na'vi say that every person is reborn in multiple lives and in each of them, is in a constant search: that of the soul mate. A bond so deep and mysterious that it overcomes the barriers of time and space, uniting two beings destined to meet in each universe. Through the ages and dimensions, kindred souls who seek each other, recognize each other, pushing each other like irresistible magnets. Because the soul mate is the perfect reflection of ourselves, a connection that goes beyond appearances and circumstances. And so, in every life and universe, destiny is intertwined to unite those souls who are destined to be inseparable through the Great Mother.

Warning : None. FLUFF

Recommended Songs : Habits - Genevieve Stokes; Blue - Dreamy, YUP!; Hotline Bling - Billie Eilish; Radio - Lana del Rey; Cinnamon Girl - Lana del Rey

Lenght : 3.6k

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles

NETEYAM: 19 y.o / Y/N: 18 y.o

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Hidden among the winding branches of the centuries-old trees, stood the forest of the Omatikaya clan. Its beating heart was a mysterious universe blessed by the Great Mother, a refuge where wild nature manifested itself in all its majesty. The suns, filtering through the thick foliage of the trees, painted golden scales on the moss carpets that stretched between the giant trunks. The air, dense with humidity, smelled of fresh earth and life. Each breath filled your lungs with earthy aromas and floral fragrances, mingling with the sweet singing of birds and Ikran competing for air dominance. Their trills echoed through the bush, dancing with the leaves swinging in the wind like a natural chorus, singing a timeless symphony. The soil, caressed by roots woven like affectionate fingers, housed a myriad of creatures. Invisible to the eyes, the insects buzzed in a concert of whispers, accompanied by the delicate rustle of the leaves that grazed each other. The dewdrops hung from the webs like shining pearls, while the nocturnal creatures found rest in the shade, waiting for their time.

In the midst of this symphony of nature, you were sitting on a rock near the edge of a pond, immersed in the quiet and harmony of the forest. Your gaze reflected the deep connection with the flora that surrounded you, an inner harmony that was reflected in your serene smile as you watched some fish shuffle between your feet in the water. Dressed in clothes with shades of the earth, you seemed a fragment of this landscape, a soul enchanted by the power and beauty of the forest, albeit with details that brought back to the marine flora to which you belonged. You started humming one of the ancient songs of the Tayrangi clan as you stretched your fingers towards the water in front of you, brushing at the fish that lived there quietly, remaining enchanted by that piece of paradise found. You had spent all morning wandering in the forest, and now you were sitting there enjoying the early afternoon making you feel free and weightless, emptying your mind of thoughts and doubts, devoting yourself to solitude. Not far from that almost enchanted place, a second Na'vi was following a small sprawling path to start the hunt, bow in his hand and feline eyes as he sought the perfect spot to start hunting. To distract Neteyam from his main objective was a foreign melody from the forest, which he had never heard before but which seemed so familiar to him. Neteyam’s attentive ears awoke to hear the song, allowing him to pinpoint the direction from which the sound came. < A voice in the forest? > He wondered as intrigued he ventured in the direction of almost hypnotic singing. Curiosity got the better of him as his head peeped out of a tree, watching a young na'vi beauty sitting from behind while humming.

Neteyam could only see the back of the Na'vi, contemplating every inch of your body that seemed to him already so lived, already admired, already touched: your shoulders narrow and thin, slender as your arms, the thread of the top on your back that covered your breasts in front, the small waistline that had around some threads with seashells and sea beads as pendants, and the soft sides leaning on the rock, slightly covered by your loincloth draped at the sides. Your long black hair slightly covered your shoulders with some braids and loose curls, embellished with some shells and sea pearls that went to match the jewel around the waist. His mind was clouded by both your body and your voice, making him feel almost drunk with you, without a real reason, but enjoying your mysterious presence and the melody you created. Neteyam couldn’t decide whether to stay hidden and admire you in silence or approach you, remaining a few minutes to think about what to do, until he made the decision.

Crack < Shit. > Neteyam thought

You turned when you felt a branch break behind you, revealing at your sight a tall male unknown Na'vi who was approaching, and then remained embarrassed by the branch. The Na'vi was particularly attractive and there was something about him that seemed strangely familiar, as if it wasn’t the first time you saw him. Your heart began to accelerate inexplicably and you blushed in embarrassment as you stood, feeling the fresh grass tickling your skin. You opened your mouth, as if to look for meaningful words to start the conversation with, but you felt like you were enchanted by that boy, admiring every single detail in him, losing in your throat all the sentences you were collecting. His eyes, big and honey-colored, sweet but sure, as bright as even Pandora’s suns; around his neck he had a reddish choker beaded, where a strange necklace that you had never seen before landed and you were sure it didn’t belong to Pandora; the toned chest where a cummerbund Omatikaya was tied underneath, revealing that he was a warrior, which you also noticed from the leather armguard and leg guards, as well as the typical Omatikaya knife and armband; your eyes fell for a second on his blue loincloth, observing the songcord that wrapped on one side. His strong natural scent was already recorded in your memory, not understanding how it was possible, and it made you feel strangely good. Your gaze rose again on his face, noticing that like you, he wore feathers on his ear, with colors typical of his clan. Your attention finally fell on the bow in his hand and you thought that he was hunting, and because of yours you had distracted him or scared away the animal he was watching.

"I… well, I thought I was alone," you put your hands forward as an apology, thinking that you had ruined his hunting trip, and then notice that young Na'vi was approaching you in silence, not disturbed by your words of apology before giving you a sweet reassuring smile. "No, don’t stop, please. You sing beautifully," he said. His eyes explored your person, enchanted by your figure: big golden feline eyes, soft lips, two strands of braids fell in front of your face; around your neck you wore some necklaces typical of the Tayrangi clan, the top you were wearing was made of long red and white feathers, just like the ones behind your right ear. "Neteyam of the Omatikaya clan… you are?" < beautiful > he wanted to add, but he just implied that he wanted to know your name. He took his fingers to his forehead and then pointed out to you, as a sign of greeting, a gesture that you then reciprocated. <"Neteyam? I’ve heard this name before…"> you whispered as the boy approached you, and then dug up his name in your memories. "Neteyam the firstborn of the Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem, isn't it?" you asked as you approached him too, not understanding why you felt so safe in his presence, or why your stomach was so upset. "O-oh, forgive me, I didn’t introduce myself. Y/n te Skxumew Ikeyni'ite" you concluded, blushing slightly for your carelessness. "Ikeyni, mh? you… you are the daughter of Ikeyni, the Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan?" He asked nicely as he looked at you a little more, breathing in your perfume, getting a little drunk on you again. "Yes, I’m the eldest son of the Sullys. but I know Ikeyni’s daughter, I didn’t remember her so... beautiful" <Smooth, Neteyam, too smooth.> "Oh, I’m Ikeyni’s second daughter, you don’t know me for this. You know my mother from the war council, right? She only bring my big sister Ney'nari, as she will be the next Olo'eykte of the Tayrangi clan. You’ve seen her, you know… tall, beautiful, long braids and kind, it’s hard not to remember. She has a beautiful voice and a good presence, she is a friend of everyone…" you answered him, smiling shyly, and then looking at him and contemplating him for a while longer. "My mother. She… she talked a lot about you to our clan, even my sister did, so I know who your parents are. And that’s why I know who you are, your name lives up to your father’s, you’re admired in all the clans, I won’t be the first to tell you all this… Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m talking way too much" you lowered your eyes slightly swallowing as you laughed slightly embarrassed, not knowing why you suddenly felt so awkward in front of him as your heart pounded in your chest. You were amazed by him, you admired him because of the stories surrounding his name and his greatness despite only nineteen years of life. "It’s a pleasure to meet you… Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" you tried not to stutter, to the veiled compliment of the boy but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you, just like your tail.

Neteyam put two fingers under your chin, lifting your face, making you meet your eyes again. The heart beating hard enough to risk a heart attack. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Just call me Neteyam, Neteyam is… fine." said, giving you a sweet smile. "And don’t worry about talking too much, as I said I like your voice, it's soft and beautiful. In addition I’m used to my little sister, I’m a great listener… especially for the right voices" His eyes slipped on your lips almost instinctively, feeling in your mouth a strange sweetish taste, as if he had already tasted your lips. "Anyway, what’s a Tayrangi doing in the Omatikaya forests? I don’t remember being warned, especially if the Tayrangi in question belongs to the Olo'eykte family" he asked gently, without taking his hand off your chin, enjoying your soft, warm skin. "To be honest? I ran away from the clan in the middle of the night because I wanted to visit the Omatikaya forest" you took a short break, slightly backing up, biting your lip as you confessed. "You know, my clan has beautiful coasts, beautiful beaches, a lovely sea and small woods but… we don’t have such beautiful forests, such tall trees and so much lovely greenery. My mother doesn’t want me to leave the clan alone because of the sky people, so if I asked for permission she would have denied me… so, you know, I ran. I know it is not something honorable as the daughter of an Olo'eykte, but I am very responsible, I swear…" You smiled slightly, without looking at him. "I’m just curious, and a bit rebellious, yes." You hoped your words had not horrified Neteyam, knowing him by his reputation as a strong warrior with solid principles. Your heart began to beat fast as he laughed at your confession as he passed a hand through the braids.

< He laughed… is good thing, no? > you thought. The excitement in your voice was as evident as the sincere wonder in your eyes, and this warmed the heart of Neteyam, fascinated by your carefree and ruthless sincerity, but especially by that rebellious streak that characterized you. "Are you telling me that you fled in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to your mother who is also Olo'eykte, because you wanted to see the forest and the trees of my clan?" asked him with amazement, looking at you. You nodded enthusiastically as you blushed slightly. < Wonderful. > he thought, even more enchanted by you.

"You are… I have no words to describe you, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to explore the beauty of a place, curiosity makes us alive, but you should not run away in the middle of the night, it could be dangerous" You smiled at his statement, heartened that he did not have the same thought as the elders of your clan. " Aren’t you afraid of getting into trouble?" "Hmm? Oh no, I’m used to getting into trouble. This is a 'trouble' bigger than the others, but certainly smaller than the future ones" you admitted while smiling, shrugging. "Let’s just say I’m lucky I’m not the oldest. Too many expectations, too many burdens, commitments and duties, the perfect daughter who will one day become Olo'eykte. Fortunately Ney'nari is the eldest daughter, and this burden is all hers, and she is fine with it. I am a free spirit, that is. The more you try to slow me down, the faster I run, you know. Life is one, so why follow the rules if I’m not hurting anyone, right?" Neteyam looked at you mesmerized, knowing that you had all that rebellious character that he lacked, and he felt attracted to you like never before. He felt he already knew what your character or thoughts were, and he found you so wildly perfect "I’m sure my mother will yell at me and I’ll have trouble with her, but… look how beautiful this forest is. These trees are beautiful, and the sounds? Ahh lovely! I was just curious, and now I’m fascinated, your clan’s forest is… mesmerizing. It’s the risk to take for a wonderful… experience. Wonderful, isn’t it?" Your voice became sweeter and more excited as you looked around with enchantment, breathing the cool breeze.

Neteyam’s eyes did not come away from you even for a second, enchanted by your being. "Yes, wonderful…" He said breathless, not meaning the forest at that moment. You looked at him and smiled once more as his heart beat and recovered, rushing suddenly, noticing your freckles shining under the lights of the forest. "Yes. The forest is wonderful. Even though I grew up there, I can’t help but agree with you, ma Tanhì…?" Neteyam used that nickname almost naturally "Tanhì?" you asked, approaching him. You weren’t annoyed, you recognized that nickname, you knew it was something that belonged to you, something you were used to, but you weren’t sure about that.

"I’m sorry, it just… I don’t know, it just came naturally to me" Neteyam said embarrassingly, squinting as if to recover himself. The heart beats faster to both, butterflies in the stomach fly wildly and every gesture, every word exchanged, seems full of meaning. "Don’t you feel like you’re…" you interrupted him. "Experiencing something you’ve already experienced?" you completed his sentence, and even this gesture reminded you of phantom memories, as if you were used to doing it. "Yes…" he whispered. "I just feel so.." fu Neteyam to interrupt you now. "at peace with you around." You smiled nodding "Yeah..". You started laughing together because of that innocent harmony of completed sentences and then looking at each other, falling into each other’s eyes. A look that sparked a spark of familiarity in your intimate. Even if you two can’t explain why, you feel a kind of deep connection that seems to go back a long time. Eyes that you had already loved once, souls that were already united in the past, as if you already knew, every single detail. Neteyam could see you all the way, as if your eyes were not a mirror of your soul, but a door he already had the keys to.

"I don’t know why but your eyes are so familiar, and also your voice… and your scent" You started, and then took a deep breath. "Have you been in my clan before, maybe?" Your eyes did not come off even for a second from his, and he did the same. "No, never… that I remember, never. But I don’t know why I feel I’ve been once, maybe for the Day of Atonement we met in some clan… I have vague memories of a forest near a precipice" he said, laughing and then looking for the warmth of your hand. "and it’s as if I’ve already felt your touch on my skin" he concluded "No, no way, on that day I am always in my clan. But I too remember a forest and a precipice… Near the village of my clan there is a similar precipice, overlooking the beach" Your eyes fell on your hand laid on that of Neteyam. "I feel the same." you answered with a thread of voice.

"I’m so sure I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know where…" You started talking, and then you laughed sarcastically, carrying some braids behind your ear. "Maybe in a past life we were connected? Do you think?" Her voice was sweet, and a smile painted on her lips as she watched you hypnotized. "No, I don’t think… I never would have had a partner in my previous life, just like I didn’t want in this life. Remember? free spirit, no bond or…" he interrupted you "Duty? isn’t it? You’re the kind of girl who doesn’t want to be connected because she’s free and rebellious and knows that no one can love or accept this rebellious side of you, and you don’t want to be below anyone because you have a strong temper. It’s you, right?" Neteyam took the words out of your mouth. You swallow with a nod, and then you feel some twinges in your head, like memories that were flocking and unlocking one behind the other with speed never seen. "How do you…" you whispered in disbelief. "I don’t know, I just know" he said. "You and I, we met, if not in this, in another life. I feel it, my heart feels it, my body and my mind. Isn’t it the same for you?" His voice was intrinsic of sweetness, hope and almost dreamet memories. You nodded watching him mesmerized. "Maybe… In another life, it can be. It is said that Eywa always brings his children together, maybe we were friends or family.. or "he looked at you, smiling when you paused. "Lovers?" he completed the sentence for you. You blushed and laughed. The heart that was pushing against your chest, as if to get to Neteyam’s, your stomach shaking, and the breath that was missing, were all feelings you had already experienced in some part of your mind. Your hand still stands on Neteyam’s, finding it comforting, experiencing a great sense of déjà vu experienced by both. "Yes… lovers"

You walked away from him, taking long deep breaths, not fully realizing what you had said. Neteyam’s eyes looked at your back as you turned your back, approached you carefully and then laid a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it’s not something bad. Maybe we were just two people on the same wavelength, you know, not necessarily lovers. You are a free spirit after all, I doubt that in another life I did not appreciate this character of yours, at least not less than I am appreciating it now" His voice was warm and gentle, almost comfortable as he tried to reassure you. "It’s not that, it’s just… weird. We just met and it seems like we’ve known each other since time immemorial, I’m not used to these things" You admitted, while your stomach was knotted and it was making you little twinges. "Maybe I should… go… I don’t want to take any more time, you were hunting, right?" "Actually I’m not wasting my time, and hunting can wait. You wanted to get to know the Omatikaya forest, didn’t you? I was born and raised in these forests, I could take you to all the places you can’t imagine." He reached out to you, hopeful. You looked at him uncertain. "You’d get in trouble. I escaped from my clan by disobeying my Olo'eykte, besides I’m in the forest of your clan without warning, how many rules am I breaking? And you would be my accomplice." You admitted worried about him, knowing his spotless reputation. "You said yourself that life is one and that the rules should not be followed, we do nothing wrong" He replied looking into your eyes hopeful. "You’re gonna get in trouble, and I’m twice as bad for ruining your reputation, plus it’s gonna be late and your parents are gonna be mad, you’re not gonna be able to hunt, and-" he laughed and grabbed your hand. "Just say yes, and I will work hard to offer you only the best. I will bring the stars down to you if you ask me" This sentence he said sounded so familiar in your head, as if he had already once told you. "Ma Tanhì, just yes." Your hearts were beating at the same pace, on the same wavelength, as you swallowed the knot in your throat that you created when you were looking for excuses not to get him into trouble. " Yes…" you whispered, and then you heard Neteyam’s smile.

The sense of déjà vu grew stronger in the hours you spent together. Neteyam took you to observe the forest with his Ikran, holding on tight to him, as your Ikran was still too tired from the night journey. He showed you the Hallelujah Mountains where there were some free Ikran in the sky and others who rested in their house; he also took you where their Home Tree had previously been. He made you explore the forest as much as possible, enjoying your amazed eyes and excited voice at every unknown thing he showed you, feeling truly free, even in his presence. There was something inside of you that told you it was okay to trust him, that you could be yourself, let yourself go without fear because he had already understood you, he was already seeing you. When the day ended you felt full of joy for having seen all those wonderful places, while Neteyam fell once again first, loving you, reflecting your happiness over something so small that he almost took it for granted

From that day you ran away from home more and more often, taking him to do the same to come to your clan. Every emotion, every laugh, outing, dating, complaint, quarrel, word or kiss that followed in the following months all seemed already experienced, as if you two had already belonged to you once and now found yourself to love you again under the blessing of Eywa.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes:

Yes, if you were wondering this is a parallel "déjà-vu" of the story "The Way of Love - Neteyam x Tayrangi Reader". I wanted to write about how Neteyam and Y/n could meet if she remained the rebellious and carefree second daughter, with Ney'nari alive and mated with Tul'pey, Ikeyni more accommodating etc… I love to think that soul mates meet in infinite ways in all universes, and that that sense of "already lived" is caused by all the lives lived together in other places.

I could have written a lot better, but in my mind Neteyam and y/n in one of these universes met and fell in love like this.Y/n rebellious and free, going against everything and everyone, disobeying, and Neteyam the one who keeps her down, who is caring and accompanies her in all her adventures… Influencing each other positively and negatively, falling in love again, again and again with the same eyes and the same things. Complementing each other.

Yes, I like to weave all my stories, always. I hope you enjoyed this niche of sweetness, ma Syulang 🙨 <3

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

[madeintheniamh]

you don't have to be sorry

waiting at the school gates, a dad you've never seen picking up his daughter appears at the time in your life that you might just need him most....

a/n: this one's quite sweet ngl. i fucking love dadrry with my whole heart.

“There you are, my gorgeous girl!” you watched him smile, as he held his arms wide open before a tiny figure ran towards him, who practically jumped on top of him. He lifted her up, holding her on the side of his hip, whilst tucking a strand of long brunette hair behind her ear. “Did you have fun at nursery?”

A little voice began to chatter on about all the activities she could possibly remember that had occurred doing the day.

“Sounds like you had a lot more fun than Daddy,” he sighed. “Can I see your drawings when we get home?”

She nodded, burrowing her head into his chest. “Oh, I missed you, Tilly Gem,” he smiled whilst trying to balance everything he was now holding between his hands. “Where’s your book bag gone?”

You were mesmerised. Even the back of him looked good, as he walked back towards the building, now in search of his daughter’s lost possessions. Shiny, flowing strands of brown hair which framed his chiselled face. He turned back to look in your direction, green eyes glistening in the autumn sun. You nearly gasped as his eyes met yours for a second, and his lips raised slightly at the edges.

You looked in front of you and quickly remembered your daughter, who was now rocking back and forwards in her buggy in front of you. Things hadn’t been quite the same after the break up with your husband a few months back. Despite the concern that you were now going to be raising her as a single mother, living in a flat you could barely afford in North London, you couldn’t help but also worry about the impact on her emotionally, no longer having a father figure. Although it had been a toxic relationship, she had always been a Daddy’s girl, but didn’t yet have the vocabulary to describe what it felt like for her father to suddenly walk out one day, with no intention of coming back. He was a businessman who worked in Canary Wharf, who was barely around during the week, but had always made time for her on his days off- at least before he decided to have an affair with the young receptionist who worked in his building and leave one night for Australia with her. Promising to pay her tuition fees at a posh private preparatory school was simply not enough. He had left his three-year old daughter fatherless, and you helpless and alone.

You exhaled slowly, before realising that the same tall figure you had seen a few minutes ago was now leaving the blue double doors, and walking straight in your direction. You knew you only had one chance, and made a split-second decision to wave in his direction. He smiled back at you, revealing bright white teeth, creases forming around his bright green eyes.

“Hi, you must be Matilda’s dad!” you explained, heart beating rapidly trying to keep your gaze focused on him. “I think my daughter is in the same class as her,”

He extended his hand towards you, revealing nails painted a glossy shade of white.

“Lovely to meet you, yes this is my Tilly,” he smiled, looking down at her in adoration, his hand now clasped around hers. “I’m Harry, by the way,”

Harry. He could have either been eighteen or thirty, it was difficult to tell. You noticed how a layer of stubble sat around his lips, and how the light reflected off the front of his perfect smile. His daughter had the exact same eyes as him, a beautiful olive colour with hazel rings around her pupils. In-fact, she was the complete spitting image of him, only much smaller with longer hair.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” you noted.

“Ah well, I’m on daddy duties today,” he smirked. “I’m a musician, so I’m away quite a lot. Feels good to be able to spend some time with my little, though,”

The little girl stood next to him nodded whilst shuffling around on the spot, clearly bored by your conversation. Your own daughter was also becoming restless in her buggy, kicking her legs around aimlessly as though all she could think about was an escape plan. You lifted her up and out of the padded seat, placing her gently on the concrete playground next to her.

“Girls, why don’t you go and play for a bit?” Harry smiled at both of them before turning back towards you.  

You soon found yourself sitting on a bench next to him, explaining your entire life story to a man you had never met.

“That sounds absolutely awful, I’m so sorry,” he sympathised. “No man deserves a woman like you. I can tell you are an amazing mum,”

“You too. I wish my daughter looked at me the way that Matilda looks at you,” you explained.

“Oh, don’t say that. I feel so guilty,” he sighed. “I have to leave her constantly, and it breaks me. I feel like such a shit dad every-time. I have to pry her off of me every-time I go out through the front door, and I fucking hate it,”

You were surprised at his honesty, and even he sounded shocked at his own words, as if this was the first time he had ever said them out loud.

“Well, at least you’ll be there when she grows up,” you said, tears starting to form in your eyes. “Not like my little,”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he says whilst placing his hand on top of yours, his gentle touch making you jump slightly. “I only had my mum for a couple of years growing up, and I did okay,” he smiled. “Plus, you’re gorgeous. You can find someone better than him, for sure,”

Your eyes lit up in response. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, of course I do, and I wouldn’t lie to you, I promise,” he confirmed. “Look, maybe we could organise something sometime? Considering that our daughters will probably end up being close, being in the same class and all,”

You looked up at him, his green pools of light staring you dead in the face, nothing but kindness in his expression.

“That would be amazing, I’ll give you my number,” you chimed.

You spent a few more minutes chatting, before he passed his phone over to you. You put your number into his contacts list before he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Tilly, it’s time to go home now,” he bellowed sweetly in her direction. “It was so lovely meeting you, hopefully we will see you both soon,” he chuckled, once again trying to balance all of his daughter’s possessions in one hand, whilst holding her hand in the other. You grinned at him in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting the tears that had formed behind your eyes from beginning to flow.

He came up beside you and whispered in your ear.

“And remember, if you ever want to go for a coffee or anything, my number is always there,” he said slowly, and you could feel his warm, sweet breath on the side of your neck. “I’d really love that,”

As he walked away, you looked down at your daughter, who was now fast asleep in her buggy.

“Lovey, I think mummy may have just found you a new step-daddy,” you giggled at her, whilst walking out of the school gates.