#but for years I have used the 'like' as a 'save for later'

[loveesiren]

𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: here is the third and perhaps final part? of Emergency Contact. I am open to the idea of writing more for this if you guys have some ideas you want to share with me! Otherwise, thank you so much for enjoying this mini series! I loved writing it and I can't wait to write more for Rafe <3 (Also, please lmk if tags aren't working!)

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, angst, drug use (cocaine), alcohol, mention of rehab

wc: 4k+

The days that followed were a blur of beer, late-night adventures, and laughter with the Pogues. You told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need Rafe’s attitude bringing you down. JJ had become a constant in your life, his arm draped over your shoulder more often than not. However, you still felt an empty hole in your chest.

You supposed you and JJ were a thing now, though you hadn’t put a label on it. He liked showing you off, and you didn’t mind the attention—especially when his lips trailed down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let him explore your body, but you always stopped things before they went too far.

JJ didn’t say much about it, but you could tell he was frustrated. Still, he didn’t push you, which you appreciated.

A few nights later, you were sprawled across the couch with the Pogues, laughing as Sarah flailed her arms during a particularly dramatic game of charades. Her phone buzzed rapidly on the table beside you, but she didn’t notice.

“Sarah!” you called, grabbing her phone. “Your dad is blowing up your phone!”

The carefree energy in the room shifted as Sarah snatched her phone from your hands. Her brows furrowed as she read through the missed calls and texts. “Shit…” she muttered, worry creeping into her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Kiara asked, the concern spreading to everyone else.

“My dad can’t get in touch with Rafe,” Sarah said, her tone uneasy. “He’s out of town and freaking out.”

“Is Rafe okay?” you asked, your stomach twisting with sudden anxiety.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sarah said quickly, but her eyes darted to the screen again. You could tell she wasn’t being entirely honest. “I just need to check on him. I’ll be back soon.” She grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

You sat there, staring at the spot where Sarah had been. Pulling out your phone, you opened your text thread with Rafe. It had been five days since you’d last heard from him.

Are you okay? you typed, hesitating for only a second before hitting send.

The screen remained blank, no reply. With a heavy sigh, you tucked your phone back into your pocket and turned back to the group.

“I’m sure everything is fine,” JJ said softly, brushing your hair aside to kiss your cheek. He pulled you closer, offering comfort, but it didn’t reach the pit of unease growing in your chest.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, trying to believe him. But your mind was elsewhere.

All you could think about was Rafe.

-

“Rafe?” Sarah’s voice echoed through the house as she stepped inside. The space was dark and suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint thrum of music coming from down the hall. She reached for the light switch, illuminating the chaos around her—Rafe’s belongings strewn across the house like an abandoned battleground.

As she moved into the kitchen, her stomach twisted. Empty liquor bottles were tipped over on the island, surrounded by half-smoked joints and cigarette butts. She frowned, fighting the wave of dread rising in her chest.

“Rafe?” she called out again, louder this time, as she ventured deeper into the house. Her sandals crunched against the sticky floor. The music grew louder as she approached the master bedroom, the sound of heavy metal shaking the walls. It was a genre so foreign to Rafe that it made her pause.

Reaching for the handle, Sarah opened the door slowly, peeking inside. The sight before her made her heart drop.

Rafe sat slumped over his dresser, shirtless, his jeans undone and his hair disheveled. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels stood beside him, its sticky contents dripping down the side. He sniffed at the surface of the dresser, the residue of white powder glaring under the dim light.

“Rafe…” Sarah whispered, stepping in to lower the volume on the stereo. The silence that followed was heavy. “I thought you quit,” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears. Seeing him like this—broken, lost, a shadow of the brother she thought she’d gotten back—was almost unbearable.

Rafe didn’t look at her. Instead, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. “Why’d you do it, Sarah?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

“D-Do what?” she stammered, blinking back tears.

He didn’t respond immediately, focusing instead on organizing another line of cocaine with unsteady hands.

“Dad’s worried,” she said, trying to keep her composure. “He told me to check on you. Rafe, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this? Y/N said you’d been acting weird, but I—”

“Y/N…” he interrupted bitterly, spitting out your name like it burned his tongue. “That’s the problem, Sarah.”

Sarah froze, her stomach tightening as Rafe finally turned to look at her. His bloodshot eyes were sunken, the pain etched deep into his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Why’d you hook Y/n up with JJ?” He asked, his voice breaking. “You knew—” He inhaled sharply, as if bracing himself. “You knew I fucking liked her, Sarah! You knew I…”

He trailed off, choking on his words.

Sarah’s lip quivered as she stared at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You know I love her,” Rafe admitted, his voice barely audible as he crumbled to the floor. His back hit the edge of the bed, and he buried his face in his hands. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. For so long, he’d buried the truth, but now it was out, raw and unfiltered.

Sarah knelt beside him, pulling him into her arms. “Rafe…” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You never told me…”

Rafe shook his head, his body trembling as he sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. She’s with him now,” he said, his voice cracking. “I ruined everything. I treated her like shit, Sarah. She’s never going to forgive me. Never.”

Sarah held him tighter, her heart breaking for him. She didn’t know what to say, so she just let him cry. His sobs eventually softened, the exhaustion of the past few days finally catching up to him.

She helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him as he drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep. His breathing evened out, the rise and fall of his chest steadying. Sarah lingered for a moment, watching her brother in the dim light. He looked so fragile, so unlike the Rafe she grew up with.

Once she was certain he was asleep, she quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked open behind her. She pulled out her phone and dialed Ward, holding it to her ear as she began to clean up the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s okay now,” she said, responding to Ward’s worried question. “I’m letting him sleep it off. I’ll get rid of the drugs and clean up the place, but… he’s not okay, Dad. He’s really not.” Her voice broke, but she steadied herself, wiping away a tear.

Ward’s response was short but decisive. “I’ll be on the next flight out.”

Hanging up, Sarah continued to clean, throwing away bottles and sweeping up the debris of her brother’s downward spiral. She was scrubbing the counter when her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with your photo, your name glowing brightly.

Sarah hesitated, her hand hovering over the phone. She sighed deeply before answering. “Hey…” she said softly, already knowing this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

You glanced at JJ, passed out on the couch across the room. His frustration earlier had been palpable—trying and failing to get you to sleep with him yet again. But how could you? Your mind was elsewhere, consumed with worry for Rafe. JJ had finally given up and flopped down, his snores starting almost instantly.

You scoffed, clutching your phone tighter in your hand. If JJ truly cared about you, he wouldn’t be pressuring you when you were clearly preoccupied. He wouldn’t be making this about himself. The analog clock on the wall read 2:13 a.m., and each unanswered ring on the phone made your anxiety climb higher.

Finally, Sarah’s soft voice came through. “Hey…”

“Sarah!” you exclaimed, standing up abruptly. “What’s going on? Is Rafe okay?”

There was a long pause, and her hesitation made your stomach drop. “Uhm…” Her voice cracked, and you knew.

“Sarah, what is it?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes and no,” she finally said. “He… he relapsed.”

The weight of those words hit you like a freight train. You sank back down into the chair as tears blurred your vision. “Fuck…” you whispered, your voice breaking. You wiped at your face, but the tears kept coming. “I knew something was wrong. I tried, Sarah. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just—”

“Y/N,” Sarah interrupted, her voice urgent but soft. “Can you just come over? I think he needs you right now.”

Her words stopped you in your tracks. “Me? Why would he need me?”

“Please,” she pleaded, ignoring your question.

You didn’t need to hear more. “I’m on my way,” you said, grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

When you arrived at Rafe’s house, the dim light spilling out from the kitchen was the only sign of life. You stumbled inside to find Sarah sweeping up broken glass, the remnants of Rafe’s spiral.

“Where is he?” you asked, your voice breathless.

“He’s sleeping,” Sarah replied, her tone weary. She leaned against the counter and set the broom aside. “My dad’s flying back in the morning.”

You hesitated, watching her carefully. “Do you know what happened? Why does he… why does he need me?”

Sarah sighed deeply, dropping onto one of the barstools at the island. “I think I might’ve messed up,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Rafe… he…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“He what, Sarah?” you snapped, your patience wearing thin. “Just say it!”

Sarah’s gaze shot up to meet yours, her voice breaking as she blurted out, “He loves you, okay?!”

Your heart stopped. The air left the room. “What?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Sarah softened, guilt etched across her face. “He loves you, Y/N. And I didn’t know… I didn’t know how much. I thought it was just some crush. He never made a move, so I figured he didn’t care. I thought setting you up with JJ would be fun, but I-” She sighed, her words tumbling over each other.

“Sarah, stop,” you said, cutting her off. She was spiraling, and you could barely keep up with her frantic explanations. “It’s not your fault.”

The room fell silent, and her words hung heavy in the air. Rafe loved you. He always had. And you—stupid, oblivious you—had missed it.

Sarah studied you for a moment, her tear-filled eyes softening. “Do you love him?” she asked quietly.

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Her lips curved into a brief, sad smile as she wiped at her own tears. “Go to him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when my dad gets back. He’ll probably send him off to rehab again, but… he needs you right now.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, your heart hammering in your chest as you stood. Sarah returned to her cleaning, giving you the space you needed.

Rafe’s bedroom door creaked softly as you pushed it open, slipping inside. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Your gaze landed on him, sprawled across the bed. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the confident and composed Rafe you’d always known. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips slightly parted. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Your heart ached as you stepped closer. You could see the toll the past few days had taken on him—the flushed cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremor in his hand even as he slept.

Carefully, you slid into bed beside him, your weight barely shifting the mattress. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. His grip tightened instinctively, and you smiled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I love you, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You didn’t know if he could hear you, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, you let yourself say the words out loud.

And for the first time in days, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Your eyes fluttered open to the early morning sun peeking through the blinds. The air was heavy, a mix of stale whiskey and regret clinging to the room. You turned your head slightly, finding Rafe curled into you. For someone usually so imposing, he looked impossibly small, trembling as the aftershocks of withdrawal rippled through his body.

“Rafe?” you whispered, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. His cheek was flushed under your palm, warm and slick with sweat.

“It’s freezing…” he mumbled, though his skin burned with fever.

You frowned, heart aching at the sight of him. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower,” you murmured gently.

Helping him out of bed proved to be a challenge. He groaned as you maneuvered him upright, his body heavy and uncoordinated, but you were determined. Once you were in the bathroom you carefully peeled his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers, before guiding him toward the shower.

The sound of the water rushing into the tub filled the space. You adjusted the temperature until it was lukewarm—cool enough to help his fever but not cold enough to make him shiver. As soon as Rafe stepped under the spray, he slumped to the floor of the tub with a heavy groan, his knees drawn up, arms resting limply on them.

You perched on the closed toilet lid, keeping an eye on him. He looked utterly spent, the water coursing over his fevered skin, plastering his messy hair to his forehead. You pulled out your phone to find a text from Sarah.

Dad’s flight is delayed. Won’t make it until tonight.

You exhaled in quiet relief. At least you had more time to be here with Rafe before Ward arrived and took over.

Can you bring me a liquid IV? I’ve got him in the shower, you texted back.

Minutes later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. You opened it just enough to see Sarah holding a glass. She handed it to you, her brows furrowed with worry. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s coming down,” you said, taking the glass from her. “He’s got a bit of a fever, but I think he’ll be okay.”

Sarah bit her lip but nodded. “Okay… I’ll make some breakfast,” she said quietly.

“Thanks, Sarah. We’ll be out soon,” you assured her, closing the door again.

You turned back to Rafe, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the shower floor. His shoulders were hunched, the water cascading down his back. Slowly, you crouched by the tub and opened the shower door.

“Rafey,” you coaxed gently, holding the glass out. “I need you to drink this. It’ll help, okay?”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, glassy and tired, but he obediently took the glass with trembling hands. You guided it to his lips, helping him sip slowly. It took a few minutes, but he managed to finish it, and you set the empty glass aside with a soft smile.

“Good job,” you said softly, brushing your fingers against his damp hair.

Rafe’s voice broke through the quiet. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he rasped.

You shook your head, crouching closer. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I fucked up,” he sighed, his head dipping forward.

“No, Rafe, I did.” You bit your lip, your voice trembling as you confessed. “I should’ve told you a long time ago… that I love you.”

His head snapped up, his bloodshot blue eyes locking onto yours. “You what?” His voice cracked, almost disbelieving.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. “I love you, Rafe. And I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve been there for you…”

Rafe stared at you, his body frozen as your words sank in. Every chaotic thought in his mind came to a halt, silenced by the sheer weight of your confession. Before either of you could second-guess the moment, he reached out, his strong hand pulling you into the shower with him.

“Rafe—!” you gasped as the water soaked through your clothes, but your protest died on your lips as his mouth found yours.

The kiss was soft yet desperate, his lips trembling against yours, the weight of unspoken years pouring into the moment. It took you a second to process what was happening, but then you melted into him, snaking an arm around his neck and tangling your fingers in his damp hair.

Every problem, every heartache, every unanswered question disappeared as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you to him. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself forget the world outside.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless. His blue eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your chest ache. Your mascara ran in streaks down your cheeks, and strands of wet hair clung to your face, but none of it mattered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but steady.

You smiled through your tears, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “I love you too, Rafe.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Ward, not Sarah, not the mistakes or the pain. Just you and Rafe, tangled together, the water washing away everything but the promise of a new beginning.

You and Sarah spent the day nursing Rafe back to health. Between making sure he ate and keeping him hydrated, most of your time was spent curled up with him on the couch. He gravitated toward your warmth, his head resting on your shoulder as Adventure Time played softly on the TV. His apologies spilled out at regular intervals, at least once every thirty minutes, as though they were on a timer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice barely above a whisper.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair, offering a soft smile. “Rafey, it’s okay. We’ve already forgiven you.”

Sarah chimed in from the kitchen, “She’s right. We just want you to focus on getting better.”

But no matter how much reassurance you both gave him, Rafe couldn’t seem to forgive himself. His relapse haunted him—forcing his dad to cut a business trip short, the anger he’d unleashed on you, the guilt over falling back into old habits. He swore up and down he’d never touch cocaine again, especially now that he had you, but addiction wasn’t that simple. You knew the moment Ward arrived, he would take charge of the situation.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as you snuggled deeper into Rafe’s arms. Between soft kisses and whispered promises of a future together, you tried to savor the quiet moments. In the kitchen, Sarah hummed softly as she worked on dinner, the smell of roasted potatoes and chicken wafting through the house.

Then, the front door slammed open. The calm shattered as Ward’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house.

“Where is he?” Ward’s voice boomed, sharp with frustration and worry.

Sarah stepped into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “On the couch with Y/N,” she said quietly, her eyes darting to you and Rafe.

Rafe tensed beside you. You placed a comforting hand on his chest, but he was already pushing the blanket off and rising to his feet.

“Hey, Dad,” he said softly, his voice thick with shame.

Ward’s expression was a mixture of relief and disappointment as his eyes scanned his son. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Rafe into a firm embrace. Rafe stiffened at first but then melted into it, his head dropping to Ward’s shoulder.

“Let’s go talk,” Ward said gruffly, his hand gripping Rafe’s shoulder as he guided him toward the master bedroom.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Sarah in heavy silence. You sat down at the kitchen island, pulling Rafe’s blanket around your shoulders, the lingering warmth proving to be a poor substitute for him.

“Ward’s going to send him away, isn’t he?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah sighed as she plated some food and slid it in front of you. “Probably,” she admitted, sitting across from you with her own plate. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

You frowned. “Why are you apologizing?” you asked, absentmindedly poking at a roasted potato.

Sarah hesitated before speaking. “I should’ve known you two were in love. How could I have been so blind? If I hadn’t pushed JJ on you, maybe none of this would’ve happened. This is all my fault.”

You shook your head and reached across the table to take her hands. “Sarah, this isn’t your fault. It’s not your job to play matchmaker. Maybe Rafe and I just ignored what was right in front of us for too long.”

She gave you a small, sheepish smile. “So… you don’t really like JJ?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “JJ’s fine. Kind of a dick though. There’s no connection there. Not like what I feel for Rafe.”

Sarah grinned, her eyes brightening a little. “Maybe one day we’ll be sisters,” she teased.

You chuckled. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

The bedroom door creaked open, and both of you turned as Ward made his way into the kitchen. His expression was firm but calm. “I’m taking him to treatment first thing in the morning,” he announced.

Your heart clenched, but you nodded, understanding. This was what Rafe needed, even if it hurt to let him go.

Ward glanced between you and Sarah before his features softened slightly. “Sarah, why don’t you and I spend the night at Tanneyhill? Give Rafe and Y/N some time alone.”

Sarah smiled and hugged you tightly before gathering her things. “Thank you, Mr. C,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude.

He gave you a small nod. “Call if you need anything,” he said before ushering Sarah out the door.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what would likely be one of the hardest nights of your life. With the house quiet again, you made your way down the hall to Rafe’s bedroom.

You knocked softly before opening the door. Rafe was already in bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, but when he saw you, a small smile tugged at his lips. He patted the space beside him, inviting you to lay with him.

Climbing into bed, you turned to face him, resting your head on his chest. “How are you feeling?” you asked gently.

“Better. A lot better,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. His smile faltered, replaced by a frown. “But my dad’s not going to let me off easy.”

“It’s okay, Rafey,” you reassured him, lacing your fingers with his. “Take the time you need to get better. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He turned his head to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt. “You promise?”

You smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Cross my heart.”

A genuine smile broke across his face, something that was rare to find in Rafe Cameron. Holding him close, you let the rhythm of his breathing lull you into a sense of calm. Whatever came next, you’d face it together.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[autumnheartsprice]

The Hidden

Alpha!Price x Omega!Reader

|gn!reader, no smut, abo dynamics, little but not really angsty, crying, fluff|

An Omega who was a part of the military was rare, nearly non-existent honestly. Weren't even reliable enough to be an assistant on base.

That's why you hid it. After years of mistreatment and abuse of power from your higher-ups, you retired that lifestyle. With a few scent blockers and pheromone perfume to make your scent more like a beta's, you progressed your way to a Sergeant. It wasn't the easiest to have to hide it in front of a team full of Alpha's and a Beta, but that's the only way you'll be able to continue working with them.

That's why, when you were assigned to help your Captain set up a safehouse in the middle of a forest and hours away from base or even any publicity, you didn't bat an eye.

It's day two of setting up the safehouse. After just arriving yesterday, only the smallest things were completed as the hours spent hiking up the mountain to this spot used up all energy from the both of you. You dug through the items that still needed to be sorted and put away, trying to make piles of similar items. Price was outside chopping some wood for the cabin's fireplace, the cool breeze outside only to get worse by nighttime.

Once most of the items found a home somewhere in the small cabin, you started putting together a small dinner of chilli for the both of you to share. Price abruptly opened the door, carrying an armful of logs as he quickly shut the door behind him, the coolness of the air already entering inside, the breeze sending a shiver up your spine.

Price sets the chopped wood by the door, rubbing his hands together before toeing off his boots. "Sorry love, 'tried not to let the cold air in." he muttered as he started taking his jacket off. He noticed your nod, the only form of response from you. He sets his jacket over a chair before walking to the kitchen, eyeing the pot of chilli you were making, before leaning against the counter to where he could see your face. "Ye alright? Haven't said much since we got here." he says, taking notice of your pink cheeks. "Look a bit feverish there, love." He adds, walking over to feel your cheeks with the back of his hand, only to feel your soft skin burning up.

He notices how you tense up and move away from his touch as he feels your cheeks. "I'm fine, sir. Must just be the weather gettin' to me." you explain. You turn the stove off and move the pot to a different burner before grabbing two ceramic bowls for the each of you. His brows furrow in suspicion but decides to let go of it. "Alright, if you say so, Sergeant. I want you to rest up after supper though, you hear me?" He states, leaving no room for rebuttal like you usually would, but you only hum in response.

He watches you only eat a few bites of chilli, only forking at your food before eventually getting up and excusing yourself to the bedroom. He watched you walk away as he finished up his own food, before cleaning up dinner and saving leftovers for it you got hungry later.

It was his night to sleep on the couch since he got the bed last night, although he forgot his charger. Making his way up from the couch with a grunt, he walks to the bedroom, stopping himself from knocking as he thought he heard something. Small whines and whimpers came from the other side of the door, too lost in your own pain to hear his footsteps walk up to the door. His Alpha heart aches at the whimpers, sensing the Beta in distress; he slowly twists the doorknob and lets himself in. The room was pitch black, only the small bedside lamp illuminates a quarter of the room. Your back was facing the door, not sensing him letting himself in.

He makes his way into the room, silently shutting the door behind himself as he walks around the bed and to you. He starts to strongly pick up a sweet scent from you, way too sweet than your usual self, but a bit bitter. He makes his way in front of you, seeing your head put into the palm of your hands. He reaches his hand out to slowly pet your head, only for you to quickly snap your head up at the sudden touch and bare your sharp canines, a low growl coming from deep in your throat before you even realize you were doing it to your Captain, of all people. He moves his hand to scruff the back of your neck and calm you, which works as it usually does with you, but your sweet scent starts to turn more bitter and sour. He finally gets a better look at you, seeing your cheeks flushed with sweat dripping down your forehead, your hair sticking to your face, and pupils wide.

"Jesus Christ, the fuck goin' on with you?" He mutters, expecting a damn good reason for why you look like you just crawled out from the pits of hell itself. He gently puts your hair behind your ear to get it out of your face. You shake your head, acting like you don't know, which very clearly doesn't meet his expectations. "You tell me what the fuck is happening right now. That is not a question, that is an order, Sergeant." He husks out, gripping your jaw and pulling your face up to look at him.

Your eyes start to brim with tears, your chest tightening and getting harder to breathe; he only tightens his grip on your jaw, expecting an answer. "P-Please.. I.. I need you, Alpha.. please, just do something.." You whisper, voice shaking with anxiety as you pull the collar of your sweater down, exposing your inflamed and very red scent gland.

Price lets go of your jaw and steps back, taking in the sight before him. Only Omegas get inflamed scent glands like that... Only Omegas..

He has to force himself to take a deep breath to remain calm, he can't scare you in a state like this. For fucks sake, it'll take hours to even get help to you.

"You.. You're an Omega..?" he slowly asks, taking a step closer to you. He watches as a tear rolls down your cheek as you hesitantly nod. "I-I'm sorry.. I'm so so sorry.." You quickly mumble, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. "Hey.. sh, shh.. it's alright, love.." He whispers, slowly taking your hands in his and pulling them away from your face. "Let me see, okay? Can't help ye if I can't see what I'm working with, lovie, I'll be nice and easy." He soothes you. Gently rubbing the back of one of your hands with his thumb as he uses his other hand to lower your shirt collar again to reveal your scent gland. You unconsciously tilt your head to the side so he can get a better look. He softly runs his thumb over your inflamed gland, causing a pained whimper to leave your mouth and making him pull away.

"Alright, lovie, it's okay, I'm not gonna touch it no more.. Let's take this off of ye, okay?" He explains, carefully taking the fabric of your shirt into his hands, he looks up at you for your consent and with your nod, he gently pulls it up over your head. He brushes your hair behind your shoulder as he thinks.

"Love, I know you haven't been fully honest before, but right now, I need you to tell me the exact truth so that I can help you." He says, a firm tone in the Alpha's voice which makes you whine. "Are you in heat right now or is this from abusing scent blockers?" He asks. He watches as more tears roll down your cheeks, he's sure it's from the stern voice during a vulnerable moment like this or even from just plain embarrassment or pain, but he doesn't have time to worry about emotions than your physical health. He sees you stick up 2 fingers to silently tell him it's the second option and he nods.

He's sat on the bed with you in his lap, your back against his chest, and the two of you both shirtless. He rubs some soothing lotion on your scent gland, having to hold you down as you try to get out of his grasp as you whine in pain. He whispers soft reassuring words as he tries to get you to lay back against him. "C'mon, sweet girl.. it'll be better once I can get this on ye." Which somehow gets you to rest your back against his chest again, earning an "Atta girl." as he starts to continue treating the inflammation.

He gets you to rest for a little bit, almost falling asleep before you start to whimper in agony, trying to claw off your scent glands, before he quickly realizes what you're trying to do and pries your hand away from your neck. He sighs, not knowing what to do anymore to help you besides give it time. He wraps his arms around your chest to pull you back against him, and he starts to pick up that bitter, almost rotting, smell again. "Sweetheart.. ye gonna let yer Alpha scent ye? Hmm? Help make the pain go away?" He murmurs into your ear. He gives you time to think, before he sees you nod and he knows that's the only response you'll give him until you feel better.

He readjusts you on his lap, turning you around so that you're facing him, telling you what to do if you ever want him to stop. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He nudges his face, telling you to tilt your neck more, which you do. He rubs his scent gland against yours, starting to scent you. He feels your head fall back in relief; He puts a hand behind the back of your head to give you support while continuing to scent you. His gruff beard rubs against your soft neck, reminding him to shave in the morning. He feels his heart ache listening to you whimper and cry on his lap, but he knows it's because it's making you feel better.

You soon fall asleep in his lap, finally feeling comfortable enough. He takes advantage of this and lays down, letting you lay on top of him. He pulls a blanket over the two of you but doesn't turn the lamp off, not wanting to not be able to fully watch you in case of anything.. Or because his Alpha instincts are taking over and want to protect his Omega.

PT. 2?

[megumiluvv]

It’s Christmas. You’ve almost forgotten about it and rush next door to Choso’s apartment, Yuji’s gifts in hand. You carefully place them under the tree and start to grab your gift for Choso, yet pause to look at the tree.

The ornaments are so pretty and sweet. Mostly items that Yuji has handcrafted for school projects, but also some old ones of Choso’s. An old elementary photo of him catches your eye and you smile. His little kid face is so adorable, but the lack of tattoo across his nose is a little surprising at first. Maybe because you’re used to him with it.

Choso walks into the living room from his bedroom and smiles. “When’d you get here?”

“Just now, still have to bring your presents, so look away.” You smile as he starts to cook breakfast, the Christmas cookies you all decorated a few days ago still in a container sitting on the counter.

You return to your apartment and grab Choso’s gift, you hope he’ll like it. You hide the small box in your pocket and head back to the apartment next door. Choso’s cooking and Yuji’s still asleep, so you continue with the plan you and Choso made last night, grabbing Choso’s boots and a sieve and powdered sugar to make it seem like Santa had visited overnight.

The footsteps lead from the front door to the tree, then lead to the cookies and milk that were set out, then back to the door. Choso looks over and frowns a little.

“Still think the floor will be sticky when it’s time to clean.”

“Quit whining, Yuji has to believe it.”

“The snow would already be melted before he even reached our apartments, we’re under an awning.”

“He doesn’t know any better. He’s too young for practicality, okay?” You huff in exasperation.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” Choso sighs and sets the table. “Sukuna and Uraume should arrive soon.”

Just then, a knock comes to the door. Before either of you could answer, Sukuna opens the door, always walking in like he owns the place. He sees the “snow” and carefully avoids it, knowing better than to mess with Yuji’s image of Christmas.

“He’s still at that age?” He grumbles.

“Huh, speak of the devil and he may come.” Choso mutters to himself. You giggle and help Sukuna set the presents under the tree.

“Is it snowing out there?”

“Yeah, colder than Uraume’s freezer settings.” Sukuna grumbles once more.

“That’s an exaggeration.” Uraume rolls their eyes and sits on the couch beside Sukuna.

You go to wake Yuji and smile at the cute Christmas pajamas the boy is wearing. He clings to you, half-asleep as you carry him out of his room. The moment he sees the presents, his eyes widen, and he believes good Saint Nick stopped by even more when he sees the footprints you created.

“Santa came!” The boy shouts excitedly, hopping from your arms to the tree, looking back at Choso excitedly. “Can I open one? Pleaseeee?”

“Eat first, kiddo, then we can have presents.” You smile and help Yuji to his seat.

He hurriedly eats breakfast and sits at his favorite spot on the couch, trying to hide his excitement for the presents. You set his presents out in front of him, then do the same for the presents for Choso from Sukuna, saving yours for later.

“Woahhh! I got a Human Earthworm poster!” Yuji grins widely. “And spider-man stuff!”

“Damn kid and his spider-man.” Sukuna ruffles Yuji’s hair and smirks as the boy complains.

Choso looks at the present from Yuji, you can see his eyes watering at the little gift. You sit beside him and lean your head on his shoulder, looking at the handmade present. Yuji (with the help of you) made a photo album for Choso, a bunch of pictures from this year’s adventures, and a handwritten note from Yuji saying how Choso is “the best big brother ever in the history of the universe”.

“Yuji, this is so nice, thank you.” Choso barely contains his emotions as he hugs his little brother, much to Yuji’s protests.

You smile softly and stand. “Let’s go play in the snow, yeah?”

Yuji nods excitedly at that and puts his snow boots on. “Yeah!!”

After a long day in the snow and a snowball fight Choso loses, Sukuna and Uraume take their leave and Yuji sleeps in his bedroom. You and Choso clean the wrapping paper mess and the footprints of powdered sugar off the floor. You grab a fake mistletoe plant from the tree and grin to yourself.

“Choso, look up.” You hold the mistletoe over your head.

Choso smirks and places his hands on your waist. “You do understand what that means, right?”

“Mmmhm! That’s the whole point. Now don’t ignore the Christmas tradition, Choso Claus.” You giggle.

He presses his lips to yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, eyes closing and a contented hum escaping your throat. You both hold the kiss for a moment and when you pull away, you place your present in his hands. He opens it carefully and smiles at the locket in the box. Inside the locket is a photo of you and Yuji, you thought it was a little much, but Sukuna said he’d like it.

“…I really like this, thank you.”

Feeling accomplished (and very relieved), you smile and give him a chaste kiss. “Merry Christmas, Cho.”

“Merry Christmas indeed.”

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish

@meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf

@mysteriaqueen @theirlgarfield

@jasminelee324 @t-candy

[cherrymoonlights]

my arcane Christmas Eve headcanons

just doing this to be fun and silly 🫡✨ happy holidays, hug eachother hard and care for eachother

- caitlyn and jayce would be the most into Christmas, forcing everyone to come over on Christmas Eve for a secret Santa moment

- they would decorate the hell out of vi and caits apartment, putting up a tree, throwing Christmas lights everywhere, so many silly trinkets laying around

- vi would act annoyed at them throwing tinsel on her head and wrapping her in Christmas lights, but she would secretly save the Polaroid they took of her forever

- jinx and ekko get eachother for secret Santa which is just unfair. vi thinks they cheated and they argue about it for ten minutes

- Viktor got vi and genuinely had no idea what to get her, so he bought her more hair dye and a new jacket

- vi didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s the wrong hair dye, so she kept it in her bathroom, but she wears the jacket everyday for like two years

- mel got jayce and (meljayvik canon) got him a really pretty, expensive cologne that makes him sneeze like hell the second he opens it, and she snuck in a present for Viktor, a way too stupid large science book, that he uses as decoration forever because it makes mel smile

- of course isha is alive and here, and she got vi. Jinx went shopping with her and got a bunch of random trinkets and stickers and things that reminded her of vi, along with the Polaroid camera that cait and jayce use later on

- they all end up in a circle on the floor, isha in jinx’s lap, playing with a tiny promise ring cait has on her finger from vi

- they drink hot chocolate that vi and jayce made. to all their surprise, it’s the best they’ve ever had

- jayce and vi lied. they said they made it from scratch. it was in fact store bought regular hot chocolate

- almost everyone knew

- it snows outside, leaving enough to play in. of course jayce and vi start a snowball fight that gets way too heated just between the two of them, ekko helps isha build a giant snowman, and mel and Viktor sit inside, drinking tea, talking and laughing

- I love them all 😭😭😭😭

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #217

1. I'm looking for a Fic where Aziraphale's wings were taken as punishment and was promised they would be returned after he proves himself. So he's sent back to earth with no wings and when he meets Crowley, Crowley misunderstands and thinks Aziraphale is a human cursed by angels with immortality and making Aziraphale do their dirty work. - @cherrymaypie

2. Hello lovely people. I'm looking for a fanfic I've read I think 3 years ago. I hope you can help me. It kinda goes like this: Aziraphale got killed by Lucifer. Crowley killed Lucifer. Aziraphale got saved by Her and is waiting in the Garden of Eden, trying to reach Crowley. He finds a "reincarnated" human Aziraphale who isn't Aziraphale. He only has his traits because Aziraphale tries to kinda reach Crowley from Eden. There's something with a church, the Archangels and in the End Crowley finds him in Eden. Thank you so much ❤️ - @silber-schleier

3. So i remember reading this one where ms sandwhich takes Crowley into the brothel to help him(he was drunk. post divorce.) and someone thinks he started working there, and then Crowley starts magic-ing people into thinking theyve had sex with him when he really just vents abt Aziraphale and takes their money. Aziraphale actually checks in on him and they fight, then comes back later having left heaven and they actually have sex. somehow i remember everything but the title!!!! - anon

4. Hello! I have a tiny request, and I apologize if this is a lot to ask for. There’s this fic I’ve been searching for all night and I’m starting to think it’s disappeared! I was hoping that maybe someone here would remember. The fanfic centers around Crowley getting sick, and because Aziraphale reacts negatively the first time- he convinces himself he should never be sick in front of him again. So any time he’s feeling ill, he leaves or doesn’t let himself be near Aziraphale (although I can’t remember how many times this actually happens). At the end of the fic, Crowley discovers angels can get sick too- and of course this miscommunication is cleared up. At first Aziraphale accused him of demonic tricks and that’s why Crowley is insecure. Again, I apologize for troubling you- and I thank you in advance! This blog is so wonderful! - anon

5. hello! i was wondering if you could find a fic for me, no pressure if not! i dont really remember alot of it, i just remember that it was a post armageddon fic and aziraphale wasnt used to the freedom, so he writes reports to crowley because he enjoys the structure it gives him. crowley always gives him 10/10 gold stars, but he cant help but worry. it was very fluffy and only a little angsty. its ok if you cant find it, i havent been able to find it either, but if you did i would greatly appreciate it! (sorry for the vague description, thats truly all i can remember) tysm again, and have a great day! - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 2.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending...Pending...

Date: August 10th,2170.

Location: Marui,High Camp,Mons Veritatis,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 1:56 PM.

Life had always demanded more of me. As the eldest son of Toruk Makto the 6th, I was born into expectations as heavy as the mountains, molded by a legacy I had no choice but to carry. For as long as I could remember, my path was laid before me—protector, warrior, leader,big brother. It was a path carved in blood and sacrifice, one I couldn’t veer from even if I wanted to.

The war had changed everything. When the RDA returned when I was only 15, they came with the same greed, the same hunger to strip Eywa’s creation of its breath. Their machines burned forests and poisoned rivers, their soldiers brought death with cold precision. But the war wasn’t just an enemy out there—it had carved itself into me.

I’d come closer to death than I care to admit. Fleeing to the Metkayina clan with my family,away from Quaritch and his puppets,was traumatizing,to say the least.

I always fit in the Omatikaya clan. I was already respected by so many clan leaders across the globe,already seen as a strong-willed,responsible and noble young warrior. The perfect next Olo'eyktan in line. But here...at sea...I was too stubborn to learn the ways of the Metkayina,scared I might lose myself. My ancestors. My traditions. The forest...Everything.

Sooner or later though,you always have to wake up back to reality. The RDA’s ships had pursued us relentlessly, their weapons tearing through the sea and air like the rage of a storm. After saving my siblings and our friend,Tsireya,my brother insisted on saving Spider as well.

I'll admit,I followed my mother's steps in distancing myself away from him as the years went by,though the brotherly bond we have carried ever since childhood lingered like a lost memory. Plus,I couldn't deny Lo'ak anything. Not in that moment.

As soon as we turned our backs to jump into the water,though...I felt it.

I’d hit the water hard, the force ripping the breath from my lungs. I fought to surface, but the panic, the crushing weight of the sea—it almost won.

All I could hear were Lo'ak's desperate cries pulling me on an ilu as he dragged me back to shore,along with the others. When I woke up, the first thing I felt was pain—white-hot and searing, burning across my chest where shrapnel had torn through flesh. The Tsahìk saved me, but she couldn’t erase the scar, jagged and cruel, that now ran from my collarbone to just above my heart,nor the memory that came with it. A bitter reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything.

That scar has stayed with me, a mark of survival, but also of failure. I should’ve been stronger, faster, better. I’m alive, but at what cost? The memory of my siblings’ terror, my parents’ fear—it’s a weight I still carry, even in moments of peace.

Sometimes,I still hear my mother's screams late at night. It's terrifying.

And now, the war feels like a constant shadow, lingering even in the quiet. I’ve learned to keep my thoughts guarded, my fears buried. We're back in the forest,thankfully,but we still live in the Hallelujah Mountains. The clan looks to me for strength, for guidance. They see a warrior who has proven himself time and time again. They don’t see the cracks beneath, the moments when I wonder if I’ve given too much of myself to a fight that may never truly end.

I’m of age now. Been for some time. I went through all the rites of passage,starting with becoming the youngest Omatikaya to make a clean kill on the Sturmbeest hunt,going through Iknimaya,and surviving Uniltaron,the Dream Hunt. After transferring into adulthood, an Omatikaya Na'vi has two things left to do: craft a bow from the wood of the fallen Hometree,and find a mate. Yet I've checked only one thing on the list,and I guess it's obvious which one I'm talking about.

I get it. I'm 19 years old now. Old enough that the elders murmur about a mate, about settling down and adding to the clan’s numbers. My parents don’t pressure me—at least not directly—but I see it in my father’s proud nods, my mother’s quiet glances. They’re waiting for me to choose, to find someone who will stand beside me as I carry the mantle of our people. Not to mention,my brother has already been mated to Tsireya,and some people among the clan are...nosy, to say the least.

But how can I think of mates when my mind is a battlefield? When every time I look at the stars, I see the faces of those we’ve lost? Love feels like a luxury I can’t afford, a vulnerability I can’t risk. I can feel my father breathing down my neck,slowly preparing me with Olo'eyktan training. I don't even want to be the next chief. Not anymore. I’ve buried the idea so deep within me that even the thought of connection feels foreign,and I can't remember the first time I really opened up to someone. They already have their image of me.

Fierce young warrior. Next chief in line. Son of Toruk Makto. Great,right?Why should I ruin that for them?

And yet, there’s a part of me that wonders—when will I be more than this? When will I be something more than a protector, more than a warrior? Is there space for Neteyam beneath the weight of it all?

The air was thick with the smell of burning metal and the acrid tang of gunpowder. Around me, the sounds of battle echoed through the forest—the hum of RDA machinery, the snap of Na’vi bows, the shouts of humans and my people alike. My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear, but from the weight of responsibility.

My feet barely made a sound as I landed on the roof of the human truck. Beneath me, I could hear their muffled voices, panicked and sharp. They were scrambling, caught off guard by our ambush. Good.

I moved to the edge, my bow drawn and ready, scanning for my next target. That’s when I saw…her.

She was crouched behind a crate, her wide eyes darting around in terror. Her skin was almost glowing in the dim light, and her hands trembled as they gripped a human weapon. She was small, fragile even, compared to the others.

A soldier, perhaps? No, she didn’t move like one. She was scared, out of place. A tablet was in her small and dainty fingers,and it looked oddly familiar,like the ones Max and Norm usually toy with in the lab. So a scientist,then. Doesn’t matter.

I drew my bowstring tighter, the arrow poised to fly. My target was clear, my purpose steady. Until I saw it.

An atokirina.

The seed of the sacred tree floated gently down, its soft glow cutting through the chaos. My breath caught as it hovered near the girl, circling her like it was studying her. And then it landed, just for a moment, on her shoulder. Didn’t this happen to my parents when they met?

Eywa was watching. Yet the girl didn’t notice.

I hesitated, my fingers loosening on the bowstring. This wasn’t normal. The atokirina didn’t just appear without reason, and they didn’t linger around those unworthy of Eywa’s blessing. Yet here it was, touching her—a human.

Her gaze was fixed on the ground, her breathing shallow. She had no idea the seed was there, no idea what it meant,too focused on her own panicked heavy breathing.

The voices of the other warriors faded into the background. For a moment, it was just her, the glowing seed, and me.

I lowered my bow.

I could hear my father’s voice in my head, a memory from years ago: "Eywa sees more than we do, Neteyam. Sometimes, the why is not ours to understand."

“Drop it,” I said, my voice steady despite the conflict brewing inside me.

She looked up, startled, her eyes locking onto mine. Great Mother,what pretty eyes she has. It’s as if I could see her entire soul through them. For a second, I thought she might try to fight, but instead, she set the weapon down on the truck bed. Slowly, carefully.

I studied her. She was different from the others—softer, quieter. And yet, there was something in her eyes that spoke of a hidden strength. And me?Well,let’s just say there was something almost…ethereal and noble in her fear that made me admire her.

“You do not belong here,” I said.

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to respond, but no words came out. The atokirina hovered again, as if to emphasize my point, before drifting off into the trees.

I couldn’t explain why, but I felt a strange pull toward her. Not sympathy—not yet—but curiosity. Eywa had chosen her for something, and it wasn’t my place to question the will of the Great Mother.

The sound of an AMP suit crashing nearby snapped me back to reality.

“Run,” I urged her, my voice low.

“What—”

“Go!” I barked, the command sharper now. She flinched but obeyed, scrambling off the truck and disappearing into the chaos. I cannot let the others see her,or she’ll get an arrow straight to her heart. The Great Mother put this responsibility in my hands,and I simply cannot let her get hurt. It must be a sign.

When the ambush was over, I retreated with the others, my thoughts still tangled around the human girl. The site was a mess,but at least we did what we had in mind. All of their cargo was either destroyed or stolen,and I doubt they won’t send out search parties for our heads.

Back at our camp, I sat by the fire, staring into the flames thoughtfully. Their dance was mesmerizing, a kaleidoscope of amber and gold licking against charred wood, with hints of blue at the edges where the heat was fiercest. The fire cracked and hissed, tiny sparks shooting upward to join the stars above. It felt alive, almost like Eywa herself whispered through its flickering rhythm.

Yet, even as the flames captivated me, my thoughts were elsewhere. On her. The girl in the forest.

Her scent still lingered faintly in my memory, something soft and sweet, like flowers I couldn’t name mixed with earth after rain. Her big eyes had been filled with fear, yet there had been something else too—curiosity, maybe? Defiance? I couldn’t decide which had unsettled me more. Her delicate frame, so unlike the strength we Na’vi pride ourselves on, seemed breakable, yet her spirit shone through her trembling form.

And then there was the atokirina. A single seed of the great tree had floated between us, its gentle glow bathing her face in an ethereal light. It had hovered briefly, as though weighing something unseen, before drifting closer to her. The moment felt... significant, as though Eywa herself had chosen her. Funny how she did not even notice such a blessing.

I had been ready to draw my bow, my duty clear in my mind. Sky People were a threat. A poison. It doesn’t matter that I share both human and Na’vi ancestors. Neither does the fact that my dad was one of them once. In my eyes,he is Na’vi. Just as everyone part of the Resistance. Yet the sight of her—so pure, so deliberate,so…utterly chaotic and scared—lingers in my thoughts. Something in me shifted then, a quiet nudge deep within my soul. I let her go, even when I knew my parents would question my decision.

Now, as the fire crackled before me, I couldn’t help but wonder: who was she? Why did Eywa send a sign? And why did I feel as though letting her go had set something far greater into motion?

The camp was buzzing with movement. The humans part of the Resistance were all in the biolab quarters, tending to their Avatars’ wounds. Lo’ak, my younger brother, plopped down beside me, his usual smirk replaced by a look of concern.

“You’re quiet,” he said, poking at the fire with a stick. “Sa’eyla said some shit went down. Something happen out there?”

I hesitated. “There was a girl.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A girl? Like, a human girl?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice firm. “And Eywa sent an atokirina to her.”

Lo’ak looked at me, confused, the stick in his hand forgotten. “What do you mean?”

I let out a loud sigh. Why is this interaction with her bothering me so much? “Just as I was ready to fire my bow, an atokirina landed on the head of this tawtute eve. As if telling me to lower my bow.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

He let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s... something.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “What are you gonna do about it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. For now. It’s not like I can do much, anyway.”

“Sounds like someone’s already in over his head,” came Kiri’s teasing voice as she approached from the shadows. She carried a bundle of herbs, her expression curious. “What’s this about an atokirina?”

Lo’ak smirked, scooting over to make room for her by the fire. “Our big brother here almost got bested by Eywa’s will.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow, sitting down. “That sounds interesting. Go on.”

I hesitated, but I knew Kiri’s connection to Eywa might help make sense of this. “There was a human girl. She wasn’t like the others—she didn’t fight. And an atokirina came to her. It lingered above her head. Right as I was about to…to kill her.”

Kiri’s expression turned thoughtful. She set the herbs aside, her hands resting on her knees. “Eywa does not make mistakes, Neteyam.”

“I know,” I said, frustrated. “But why her? She’s... she’s one of them. I have no idea why it’s bothering me so much. It’s like a buzz in my head.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Maybe the Great Mother’s matchmaking now.”

“Lo’ak,” Kiri said sharply, shooting him a look that silenced his grin. Her attention returned to me. “Eywa sees the heart, not the body. Maybe this girl is different. Maybe she’s meant to change something.”

I frowned, staring at the fire as its light danced across the darkened camp. “But how can I trust that? How can I trust her? I don’t even know her name and yet…” I hesitated, running a hand down my face. I really don’t need another teasing remark from Lo’ak.  “Gosh, I don’t even want to think about it anymore. Forget it.”

Kiri smiled faintly, her voice soft. “Sometimes, Eywa doesn’t ask for trust. She asks for faith.”

Lo’ak leaned back, looking between us with a sly grin. “Well, sounds like you’ve got a lot to think about, bro. Or maybe, you’re just scared of a tawtute girl.”

I shot him a glare, but Kiri nudged his arm before I could retort. “Leave him alone, Lo’ak,” she said, her tone amused but protective. “This isn’t something to joke about.”

Her gaze returned to me, her expression serious. “Whatever it is, Neteyam, trust that Eywa will reveal it in time. You’ll know what to do when the moment comes.”

And as the fire crackled between us, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her words. Whether I was ready for it or not, my path—and hers—was no longer just my own.

In the days following the ambush, my thoughts lingered on her. I hadn’t told my parents yet. My father, Jake, carried enough weight on his shoulders. Every decision, every strategy, every skirmish—it was all for the survival of our people. He didn’t need my confusion about a single human clouding his focus. And my mother, Neytiri… she wouldn’t understand. Her hatred for the sky people ran deep, forged in blood and loss, and for good reason.

But I couldn’t ignore it.

One evening, I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in my marui,only to be kept awake by my own thoughts. I hated whenever this happened. When no position was comfortable,my skin felt on fire and I would get more annoyed and tired by the second. I got up and slowly made my way through the campgrounds,passing by people alike,lost in their dreams.

What I’d do to be in their place.

Calling for my ikran, I waited as she descended gracefully, her form blending seamlessly with the star-speckled sky. When she landed, I took a moment to rest my forehead against hers, finding comfort in her steady presence. Together, we soared into the night, the cool wind sweeping away some of the weight on my chest.

Our destination was inevitable: the remnants of Utraya Mokri.

Once, long before I was born, this was the site of the great Tree of Voices—a place of profound connection where our ancestors’ memories thrived. But during the war, the humans came and destroyed it, severing that sacred link. In its place, saplings had begun to grow, fragile yet persistent, spreading slowly across the scarred land. They shimmered now, soft bioluminescent light dancing in the dark. It was a bittersweet sight—proof of Eywa’s resilience, but also a reminder of what had been lost.

I landed and dismounted, walking to the center of the grove. The soil was cool beneath me as I sat cross-legged, surrounded by the glow of the saplings. Gently, I wrapped the tendrils of a sacred vine around my queue, seeking solace in even the faintest connection. It wasn’t strong enough to download memories or speak with the ancestors, but it was something—a tether to Eywa. And maybe, just maybe, she would hear me.

The connection came swiftly, a wave of warmth and calm coursing through me, easing the storm within. I closed my eyes, lowering my head.

“Great Mother,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why her? Why a sky person?”

The forest seemed to exhale, its life humming softly around me. The glow of the saplings pulsed gently, as if in answer. I tried to silence my doubts, to push past the fear and confusion. My father had always told me to trust Eywa, even when her ways seemed inscrutable. But this... this felt different.

A memory surfaced unbidden—my father’s voice from years ago. He had been telling us about how Eywa had chosen him, a human, to unite the clans. “Eywa doesn’t see as we do, Neteyam,” he’d said. “She sees balance. Potential. She sees what we cannot.”

A force for balance,maybe. For something greater than I could comprehend.

The thought brought both comfort and unease. I opened my eyes to the glow of the saplings, their light steady and unyielding.

“Help me understand,” I murmured, my words barely audible. The forest around me thrummed once more, but no answer came—at least, not in words. Yet the stillness wasn’t empty. It carried something intangible, something that settled in my heart.

Perhaps the answer would come in time.For now, it would have to be enough.

The jungle was alive with its usual symphony of sounds—the distant calls of viperwolves, the rustle of leaves as a gust of wind swept through the trees. But my focus was razor-sharp, every movement of my body calculated as I followed the humans' trail.

Our scouts had reported another transport heading deeper into the forest, likely bringing more machines or weapons.My father had been clear: Observe, but do not engage. Watch, learn, and then strike if the time is right.

I crouched on a thick branch, hidden by the foliage, my bow resting lightly in my hand. Below me, the humans moved in a tight formation, their vehicles rumbling loudly and their voices carrying through the air. Among them, I saw her again.

She wasn’t dressed like a soldier. Her clothing was simpler, and she carried a small device in her hands, her gaze flicking between it and the terrain around her. She looked… out of place, as though she belonged somewhere quieter, somewhere far from the chaos of this world.

The same tug I’d felt during the ambush returned, stronger this time. But I forced it down.

She’s one of them.

And yet, I couldn’t look away.

We shadowed them for hours, moving through the trees as they trudged through the undergrowth. They stopped occasionally, setting up equipment and scanning the area. The girl seemed focused on whatever task she had been assigned,a small fierce nature in her body, but there was a tension in her posture, a hesitance in her movements.

As the group reached a clearing, my father’s voice came through the earpiece we used for communication.

“Pathfinder, fall back. Let them move on.Over.”

I hesitated. Something wasn’t right.

“Neteyam,” my father’s voice was firmer now. Shit. “Do you copy?”

“Yes,father.” I replied quietly. But I didn’t move.

The attack happened so fast, even I didn’t see it coming.

Viperwolves, drawn by the noise of the humans’ machines, erupted from the shadows. Their snarls shattered the fragile quiet, and the humans scrambled into action, shouting and firing their weapons. Chaos consumed the clearing, the air thick with smoke, fear, and violence.

And in the middle of it all, I saw her freeze.

Her wide eyes darted around, her body stiff as stone. She didn’t run, didn’t fight. Instead, she crouched low, pressing herself against a fallen log, trying to make herself invisible as the chaos surged around her.

I should’ve left. I should’ve followed my father’s orders, retreated into the safety of the trees. But the sight of her, small and vulnerable, anchored me in place. I couldn’t leave her.

Before I realized it, I was moving.

I landed silently behind her, my bow slung over my shoulder as I unsheathed my knife. The viperwolves hadn’t noticed her yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they caught her scent. I could see their noses twitching at the foreign human scent.

“Move,” I whispered, my voice low but firm.

She whipped around. For a moment, she didn’t react, her mouth opening slightly as if to say something. I could see it in her eyes. She recognized me.

“Holy shit,you–”

“Now!” I hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

She stumbled but followed, her legs moving awkwardly as I led her away from the clearing. The sounds of gunfire and snarls faded as we put distance between ourselves and the fight.

The forest was eerily quiet now, the aftermath of the viperwolf attack leaving a tense stillness in the air. She stood there, staring at me with wide eyes, her breaths coming fast and shallow. I could see the tremor in her hands, the slight quake of her legs—fear, exhaustion, or both.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Eywa’s will tugged at me like a strong current, the memory of the atokirina circling her vivid in my mind.

I raised a hand to my throat comm, pressing it lightly as I spoke in Na’vi. “Eagle Eye, I have a situation,over.”

“Holy shit,dude!Where’d you disappear?Over-” My brother’s voice came through, laced with confusion. I figure he fled back with the others. “What’s going on?”

“I found that girl again. The one I told you about. I’m taking her back to camp. Go on without me.Over.” I said, my words clipped. I’ll never hear the end of it.

“What?” Lo’ak’s shock was evident, his voice rising. “Why would you—”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Father and Kiri to meet me. And be ready. Over and out.”

Before Lo’ak could respond, I cut the connection and turned back to the girl. Her gaze flicked between me and the trees, as if she was debating whether to run.

“You’re coming with me,” I said firmly.

Her brow furrowed. “What? No, I—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. Stepping forward, I grabbed her wrist—not hard, but enough to guide her—and began leading her through the trees,calling for my ikran. She struggled against my grip.

“Let go of me!Are you fucking insane?!Why did you–” she hissed.

“We need to move,” I said sharply,cutting her off. “The forest isn’t safe for you.”

“Yeah,no shit.” she bit back,panic present in her tone. Does she think I’m kidnapping her?

When my ikran came to us, the girl froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the massive, winged creature. It let out a low growl, its sharp eyes narrowing at her.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not getting on that thing.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I said, swinging up onto the ikran’s back and reaching down for her.

She hesitated, but when the distant laugh of a viperwolf echoed through the trees, she grabbed my hand and let me pull her up. She’s so light.

“Hold on,” I said, guiding her arms around my waist.

She muttered something under her breath, but she obeyed.

With a sharp call, I urged my ikran into the air, the wind rushing past us as we soared above the forest.

The Hallelujah Mountains loomed ahead, their floating peaks glowing faintly in the evening light. I focused on the flight, trying to ignore the growing tension I felt with her pressed against my back.

It wasn’t until we began our descent toward the high base that she spoke.

“You think I don’t understand you?”

Her voice, so sudden, startled me. She was quiet the entire ride and now she speaks?

I twisted slightly to glance back at her, my eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“When you spoke earlier, in Na’vi. I understood you. You’re taking me back to...to torture me or what?!” she said, her tone biting,but I could sense the fear and tremble in her tone. Feisty little thing.

My heart skipped a beat. She understood? How?

“You speak my language?” I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief.

“You didn’t answer my question!” she snapped, her grip tightening on my waist as the ikran dipped slightly. Fuck,I’m getting lightheaded with the way her tiny hands grips my waist like that. “Why does it matter? Why am I here?”

I didn’t answer immediately. We landed on a wide platform near the high base, the soft thud of the ikran’s claws echoing against the rock. She climbed off quickly, putting distance between us as she glared at me. How do I even explain to her?

“Tell me,” she demanded, her voice rising. “Why did you take me? Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

I slid off the ikran, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “You would have died.”

“I could’ve handled it!” she said, her voice trembling with frustration. Yeah,right. Surely you would have handled dying,little tawtute. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

I took a step closer, my expression hard. “And yet,you were frozen. If I hadn’t acted, the viperwolves would have torn you apart.”

Her anger faltered, and she looked away, her fists clenching at her sides. “I didn’t need saving.”

“You don’t understand this world,” I said, my voice softening. “It’s not like Earth. It will kill you if you’re not careful.”

She looked back at me then, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

“Then why not leave me there?Away from the attack.” she asked quietly. “Why take me with you?”

For a moment, I didn’t know how to answer. The truth was tangled up in feelings I didn’t fully understand myself—in the memory of the atokirina, in the way Eywa seemed to whisper through the forest that she was important. In the way I felt when I stared into her eyes.

“Because we need intel from inside the RDA. And you seemed like a good fit,you know. Small,feisty scientist who didn’t show any signs of a threat. ” I lied, the words slipping out before I could stop them,though I kept a certain amount of smugness in my teasing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion,almost as if she was…offended. “What are you talking about?”

I hesitated, debating how much to tell her. I pet my ikran before I started wlalking into a cave. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she said, crossing her arms.

Gosh,she’s so infuriating. Maybe I should have left her with the viperwolves. I turn around to her,simply cross my arms in defiance,towering over her small stature with a silent smirk. For a moment, she was observing, her gaze searching mine. I'm too stubborn to talk further. Plus,she's...pretty like this. She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. She’s got jokes,huh. I like that. “Takes one to know one.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “What happens now?”

I straightened, my resolve hardening. “I…don’t know. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”

She didn’t argue this time. Instead, she simply nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the fight had gone out of her.

“And for the record,I’m not going to torture you. We’re not barbarians.”

I heard a weak chuckle leave her lips as she followed behind me,and…it was a pretty sweet sound. 

But I knew this was only the beginning. Whatever Eywa’s plan was, it had already begun.

[teecupangel]

Desmond reborn as this breed of dragon. There are no flaws in this plan. Native to Italy so wouldn’t be out of place in Ezio’s era, naturally Assassin colours, and as far as I know Imperator are upper middleweight/lower heavyweight in size so he’s big and can carry full crew of Assassins/mercenaries. He could help defend Monterriggioni from Borgia invasion & probably save Mario’s life.

There’s not yet a full analysis sheet for this breed of dragon but there are a few more drawings in Atrocitas’ tag that can be used as size comparisons with other dragons, and if you then hop over to Genevieve’s tag (golden-white dragon) you’ll get an accurate picture of Imperator size (Genevieve is compared with her crew & Captain in one drawing)

Additional info from @wynterwulf7

More info on More info on Imperator/Asta di Marte (bc I just remembered that post that explored it a lil bit)

I’m going to assume we’re making a Temeraire x Assassin’s Creed crossover where Desmond is reborn as a dragon of that breed.

Of course, we’re here to make Desmond’s life ‘interesting’ so we’ll set this up where Desmond died in canon and is reborn in Renaissance Italy with the dragon elements of Temeraire.

He wakes up alone in one of the most remote places in Tuscany so he still thinks he’s in a world where dragons don’t exist. This means that he’d spend a few years trying to hide as he grows up.

Of course, just because he’s hiding, doesn’t mean that people won’t know about him. He’s a dragon trying to learn how to be a dragon in a world where dragons exist and is known by the people.

Sooner or later, he gets captured because he was trying to not hurt anyone.

And that’s when he learned that dragons isn’t something that could be considered as an anomaly in this world.

If anything, it was quite ‘common’.

Desmond is still a growing dragon though and he’s been noted as ‘wild that needs training’.

Whatever plan they have is cut off because Desmond learned that it’s December.

Of 1476.

There’s no big entrance during the execution.

Desmond used his large body to crash into the Auditores’ prison and performed a jailbreak with two reluctant men (Petruccio is totally on board though).

From there, it becomes more of a case of House Auditore becoming Firenze’s enemy number one because of said jailbreak.

But hey…

At least they have a large powerful dragon is totally on board with protecting Monteriggioni and helping with the defenses (and counterattacks).

Giovanni is absolutely sus about it the entire thing because Desmond can’t be controlled or even guided. Giovanni tried to get him to take them to Spain but he was adamant on taking all of them to Monteriggioni.

The fact that Mario doesn’t know ‘who’ Desmond is and how he knew of Monteriggioni only served to make Giovanni more suspicious that there’s something more to this entire thing that they’re not seeing.

Something like…

Desmond may be getting orders from someone else who wanted everyone in the Auditore family in Monteriggioni for some reason.

Yeah.

That someone?

Is Desmond himself.

But it’s not like Desmond can try to make them understand him.

He’s too busy trying to get these rowdy dragons that Mario purchased for his mercenaries to stop trying to bite him or groom him or…

Honestly.

Desmond doesn’t know what these dragons want from him.

[octospace]

Caitvi will always be very special in my heart because what do you mean some company gave a green light to a lesbian love story about more than unconditional love, a lesbian love story about unconditional acceptance and affection.

We never see none of them say sorry (except when Vi ask Caitlyn to not change) but they are accepting each other over and over no questions asked, like when they leave Stillwater and Caitlyn have the tickets so they can go to Zaun using conventional means but Vi just jump head first into the craziest parkour deep down the buildings and Caitlyn just follows her even she had no idea where she was or even if Vi would be waiting for her down there. She gets mad but she just accept the stolen clothes and let it go.

Vi left her at the brothel to go head first into a fight with Sevika, almost got herself killed, was saved last minute by Caitlyn and they just start a banter (?). Vi calls her cupcake and tells her she’s an alright shot and that’s her way to say “oh my bad I fucked things up” to which Caitlyn just FLIRTS BACK with that playful “I’m an excellent shoot” and also this is the moment Caitlyn share her name with Vi, this is Caitlyn saying “I’m mad but I accept your clumsy apology”.

Then Caitlyn finds out Vi knew since their meeting with Sevika that her sister was Jinx (the terrorist), they got captured by Ekko and the firelights but without knowing that Vi its actually ok and Ekko it’s her family she was ready to give herself to save Vi, again accepting that even though Vi got them kidnapped she does not care because she’s actually more worried than mad.

After that Vi decide to go back after Jinx, everything it’s blown up by Jinx yet again and Caitlyn conforms Vi in her bed by being the first person in the whole series to tell her “what happened to your sister it’s not your fault”. Council meet goes wrong Vi left and go head first into danger yet again and Caitlyn it’s not actually mad at her when season 2 starts, she falls into Vi arms without thinking expecting Vi will catch her.

And to make this post short season 2 they break up because even though Caitlyn got her back all the time Vi deny her the only thing Caitlyn ask her because it’s too much, Caitlyn goes on her soft evil arc because she’s trapped by Ambessa and after their first meeting what Caitlyn does? She got Vi’s back again! She started a war, left Vi choose Jinx and release her, she betrayed and army because she accept and love Vi unconditionally.

I really hope we will see some amazing lesbian stories like this soon rather than later, took me almost 30 years to see one, hopefully it will take shorter for the next one.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Jason was used to being glared at. Crap, he'd been on the other side of the Bat-glare enough times to become immune to it.

But being looked at like he was a cockroach by a nine year old brat who didn't even reach his hips and was trying to be intimidating, well, that was new to him too.

It didn't help that the boy had black hair and blue eyes, more of a miniature copy of Bruce than the demon brat could ever hope to be.

There had been rumors about the true paternity of Bruce Wayne's new protégé ever since the boy's parents had mysteriously disappeared when they were overseas, but Jason was too high on the effects of the Lazarus Pit to worry. 

Timothy Drake was nothing to Jason, other than a means to lure Batman and Robin into his traps. 

 

(Someone who would have been better off elsewhere  but Bruce never learned, he always had to save poor orphans who reminded him of himself, and ended up damning them. Jason was just doing little Tim a favor by showing him the truth.)

 

And now, a year and a half later, after his dramatic revelation, here was the brat (not Bruce, it wasn't Bruce, his mind was just too sleep deprived) standing in his living room as if nothing had happened, as if he had never kidnapped him to blackmail Robin.

And he was alone. What, the old man still couldn't learn his lesson? 

“How the hell did you get in here?” Jason snapped, putting the gun away.

He was a crime lord with anger issues  but even he wouldn't shoot a fucking child.

(As if I hadn't done worse  a little voice reminded him, but he, who had set himself by the best, ignored it.)

“I have my ways,” Tim said, as if it were easy to break into the home of a dangerous criminal. And maybe for him it was, the brat was intelligent, too smart for his age, and it had annoyed Jason to no end by having to change his plans every time because the child somehow either ran away or made things very difficult. “What matters is that we need to talk.”

“Crap, no. What we need to do is take you home to the Manor.”

Preferably, without anyone seeing Jason. 

“Only if you come with me,” Tim said firmly, with a stubbornness that was all too reminiscent of the old man and his new bird. 

[generallycharmingcriminalminds]

Angel In The Snow

Summary: Modern AU where Nicky died, and months later, on Christmas Eve Agatha and Rio see each other at Nicky's grave.

Warnings: Hurt/slight comfort, referenced child's death, like one curse word, exes who still love each other.

Word Count: 1,319 words

Christmas Eve morning, what had once been one of Agatha’s favorite days, now spent standing in front of the cemetery, in the snow, trying to get the nerve to enter. Eight months, and it still ripped her heart out just thinking of the funeral. The one she loved the most standing beside her silently as they watched the coffin lower into the ground, the rest of her heart inside. Agatha tightened her grip on the bouquet of purple azaleas in her hand as she forced her feet forward, making her way towards the grave she came to see. A shuddering breath escaped her as she crouched in front of a headstone, reaching a gloved hand out to brush the snow away, revealing the name. Nicholas Harkness-Vidal. Nicky, her pride and joy, her little boy, forever six years old.

The illness had come quick, there still wasn’t a name for it, or treatments, so Agatha had been forced to watch her little boy deteriorate by the day, his own body betraying him. She never understood exactly what the geneticist had told her and Rio…Rio, the woman Agatha loved, still loves, even after their divorce. Neither woman ever reached acceptance in their stages of grief, both staying in anger, at the situation, and at Rio. It had been something to do with Rio’s egg that caused Nicky’s illness, at least that was how the doctor’s had explained it to Rio and Agatha in the hallway of Boston Children’s Hospital.

Agatha and Rio divorced not even two months after the funeral, unable to look at each other without screaming, if Rio was even home. Being a badass FBI agent meant she was rarely home even when Nicky was alive and well. But once he got sick, and eventually passed she claimed it was just too hard, leading to one of the worst fights they ever had in their almost ten year long marriage, the fight that led to their divorce.

“Being here is hard for you? Seriously, Rio? You were never here!” Agatha had screamed at her wife.

“I tried, I am trying. But at least you got to be here for him, make sure he knew he was never alone. You got to help him with his homework after school, drive him to sports, be here for dinner, his bedtime routine. You knew his favorite food, favorite color, stuffed animal, everything, unlike me. You got to be his mother, in every way that counts. Thanks to my job, and the crazy schedule I work, the most maternal thing I did for him was use my egg for his conception, and that’s what killed him,” Rio had replied softly, tears in her eyes, no fight left in her anymore as she avoided Agatha’s furious, hate filled expression.

“I wish we had never used your egg! We should have used mine, it would’ve saved us money, and probably wouldn’t have killed him! I want a divorce, Rio, you look too much like him, and I hate you for it.”

“Aggie…” Rio started, but a cold look from Agatha shut her up.

“It should’ve been you, not him.” With that Agatha had turned on her heel, storming out of the room.

Agatha shook her head, as if that would make the memory of her cruel words go away. She didn’t really hate Rio for her resemblance to Nicky, or blame her for Nicky’s death. But Nicky had Rio’s dimples, and her smile, and her unnatural ways of sitting in chairs that simultaneously drove Agatha insane and made her smile. It had all been too much seeing the woman she loved, and also seeing her little boy in Rio. So once the divorce had been finalized Agatha packed up her life, sold the house, and moved from Salem Massachusetts to Westview New Jersey, a small town where no one knew her as Agatha Harkness, the stay at home mother who tragically lost her only child. Instead they knew her as one of the best cops in the whole department.

She’d even made friends in Westview, Jennifer Kale, a cosmetic company founder. Lilia Calderu, a fortune teller who Agatha knew was just scamming people, but somehow it was legal. And Alice Wu-Gulliver, a fellow cop whose mother had once been a well-known rockstar, apparently. But Agatha wasn’t sitting in front of her son’s headstone on Christmas Eve to think about them.

Agatha carefully set the bouquet of azaleas on the ground in front of Nicky’s headstone, a shaky breath leaving her as she wiped her eyes, realizing she had started crying. “Hi, baby, mami and I both miss you, with all of our hearts. I’m sorry you had to hear us fight so much when you got sick, and I’m sure you saw it get worse, because there is not a doubt in my mind you’re keeping an eye on both of us, just like Santa if you think about it. I wish it had been me instead of you…parents aren’t meant to bury their children.” Agatha heard the snow crunching under someone’s relatively quiet steps, but she didn’t turn, assuming the person would just pass by, they didn’t.

“You and I both know he’d hate hearing you talk like that, Agatha. You’re right, parents aren’t meant to bury their children, but six year olds aren’t meant to bury their parents either,” a voice behind her said quietly, and it just made the tears slip down Agatha’s cheeks more. She didn’t turn her head as Rio crouched next to her, placing a bouquet of green azaleas, her gloved hand finding Agatha’s without thinking. “I saw you sold the house,” she said, attempting to make small talk, some sort of connection.

“Yeah, I couldn’t stay there, every time I turned a corner I expected him to come running up to me, wanting cuddles. The ghosts of the happy family the three of us once were was too much to overcome…”

“Just like our divorce.” There was no anger, or resentment, just sadness and understanding in Rio’s tone. “You know, Salem hasn’t had a white Christmas since the year Nicky was born,” Rio noted, looking up, some of the flakes catching on her eyelashes, and melting on her face.

Agatha nodded in agreement, moving to rest her head against Rio’s. “Our little boy’s watching over us,” she said hoarsely, and she believed it.

When they both left the cemetery a little while later Agatha finally met Rio’s eyes for the first time. Both had dark circles under their eyes, neither slept well anymore. “Do you…maybe…wanna get a cup of coffee, just for old time’s sake? No expectations, just two people who’ve known each other for years?” Rio inquired.

“Unfortunately I can’t. I have to get back to Westview because a friend of mine is having a Christmas party tonight, I’m sorry,” Agatha answered, her tone surprisingly sheepish as she glanced away from her ex-wife.

“Oh, well, it was worth a shot. Merry Christmas, Aggie.” Rio hadn’t even noticed she used that old nickname, but Agatha did as Rio turned, starting to walk away.

Before Agatha could think things through, or even at all she called after Rio. “Wait, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“No clue, probably unpacking my apartment that I’ve been living in for six months and haven’t done anything with,” Rio admitted, now the sheepish one.

Agatha scoffed, shaking her head. “Come on, Nicky would be disappointed in me if I let his mami spend Christmas alone. You’re coming to New Jersey, and staying in my guest room.” Her tone made it clear Agatha wasn’t going to accept any arguments from Rio.

What neither of them could see was Nicky watching from above, smiling ever so slightly. He didn’t know if his mama and mami would find their way back to each other, but for the first time since before he died, he had hope.

[thalia-vargas]

It's been four days since I've moved in, but I've not unpacked a single box. For the life of me, I can't figure out why.

A week ago, Forrest had offered his home to me. He said that if I lived here, I could save more money than I spend because he wouldn't be charging me anything, and that I'll be giving life to an otherwise empty LA home. But most importantly, it'll be a way for us to be closer, so that every time he's in town, we wouldn't be wasting precious time figuring out whose place to stay in.

It's most generous, really. He's been most generous. But after one night here, I'm not sure I can stay.

I mean, his apartment is nice. Really nice. It's no castle, but it's way better than anything I can afford on my own. Besides, I've never needed a castle. But to live here for free? I offered to pay for something, anything, because I would feel like I'd be taking advantage of his generosity if I didn't. He was adamant I didn't need to. Eventually, he conceded and agreed that I can pay for the utilities I use, but nothing more.

This arrangement, however, had not helped quell my shame. Days later, these four walls still don't feel like home. Even as I sit here, by his bed, wearing the very sweatshirt he gave me, just staring at my pathetic attempt to make things cosy — a fresh new plant I'd bought from the nursery downtown. None of it helps. At least, not really. The silence is too loud, and I don't feel any of the warmth I feel when I'm around him.

Then again, no other four walls have ever felt like home, except for the ones I left in Colombia.

I've briefly considered it, though. Going back. After all, I've not been home since my abuela passed almost two years ago. I know I should. To visit her resting place, at the very least. But the thought of going back there and finding it as empty as this apartment is right now makes me want to throw up what little is in my stomach.

So, what do I do? Where do I go? How can I be thankful for things that aren't really mine, and be merry and bright all on my own? I'm tired of crying, and of keeping it all in. I want to be able to find my own place in this world. I need to. For me.

But how? How do I get to a place that might not physically exist? And how do I tell him that I need him there, in my life, no matter what?

[he1x1ed]

hmm

📱i encountered DOL about 2019? 2018? wow, 5-6 years is a long time. i’ve not been actively playing it, of course— only recently rediscovering it in 2021 and now 2024 again. im pretty cosy here

✨because… game… text game… hmmggm.

⭐️ eden! not much has changed since i moved on to an LI kinda similar to him, whoops

💗 whitney. yes, i unfortunately am a whitney fucker

⚡️ whoever saved us at the start of the game and gave us pepperspray? an absolute g!

🌈 i am infact sooo casual that i cheat the game’s files regularly. i play it wayyyy too often to be considered casual gaming but im not playing a porn game like a sweat.

☀️ the whitney orphanage loft scene!

☁️ actually, the dress up mechanics are pretty nice. i played the sneaky and the new customisations are top fucking notch— love being able to change your pc’s body type too.

🍬 whitney scenes! whitney impregnate me!!! anything and everything whitney!!!!!

PC

❤️ yes! my PC’s have much lore!! i will be pc posting soon…

🩷 whitney, great hawk. or alternatively, alex and sydney.

🧡 my question is how could your pc NOT have angst when you play in dolville? but i shannot say! that’s a surprise tool that’ll help us later. (ref)

💛 bailey is a weakness, tbf. a strength they have is their resilience.

💚 loved by the orphans and people who know them— but disliked by authorities. scrappy.

💙 remy and his associates. they also take disliking to the recluses of society (despite being a recluse themselves). i suppose it’s because of envy that they can do it so comfortably.

💜 they probably would want to take the chance, but there’s too much to leave behind. who will take care of the orphans? who will take care of whitney and make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble he can’t handle? what about great hawk and their children??? too much at stake!

Hello dol community, here I humbly present to you:

an Ask game :D

If anyone's confused, basically someone will send you an emoji which has questions you can answer to! Now here's the list (please don't judge the emojis) :

📱 - How did you encountered DoL? From a friend, through social media etc.

✨ - What made you play DoL? From the storyline, the characters or just for porn?

⭐ - Your first Love Interest/s at the start of your game.

💗 - Your current Love Interest/s.

⚡ - Your favorite Person of Interest or Non-Love Interest.

🌈 - Are you a casual player or a player that absolutely grinds everything?

☀️ - Favorite scene or events.

☁️ - Favorite part/mechanic of the game.

🍬 - Something you want to see in the game in the next update.

Now here's for the people who have pcs edition (optional):

❤️ - Does your pc have lore?

🩷 - Your pc's Love Interest/s

🧡 - Does your pc have angst? If so, what's the most traumatizing thing that has happened to them?

💛 - Weaknesses and strength your pc has.

💚 - What is their overall relationship with the people in the city? Are they kind and loved by everyone or are they a piece of meat to society?

💙 - Do they have someone they hate? An enemy, rival or just a nuisance in their life?

💜 - If given the chance, would your pc absolutely bail and leave the city to move somewhere else, or are they firmly rooted in the spot in this hellhole of a city.

Hope everyone has fun!

[thesnackist]

okay Tumblr it's time

time to try and reach Likes = 0

(honestly anything below a hundred)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[astriiformes]

Some of this is an expansion of a thesis that I was prodding at in my speech and debate piece ten years ago in high school (which was an admittedly somewhat naïve exploration of the relationship between science fiction, optimism about the future, and scientific progress, though I stand by elements of it), but there really is something fascinating about the way Back to the Future, as a piece of science fiction media, engages with its own genre.

In the "better" timeline, George McFly, an avid sci-fi fan, goes on to become a science fiction writer. Doc Brown was inspired to become a scientist by the works of Jules Verne (and in the video game, has another Eureka moment when he sees the 1931 Frankenstein film for the first time); in the musical, he describes his time machine as "A car for the stars / Like Captain Kirk's." As a sickly girl, isolated from her peers, Clara Clayton fell in love with amateur astronomy and stories about traveling from the Earth to the Moon.

I'm just so enamored with the fact that, unlike some other media, Back to the Future loves being sci-fi so much. There's a consistent throughline in every piece of BttF media--even the newer ones--that science fiction is something good, and inspirational, that makes people feel less alone, and forges connections, and encourages people to learn and invent. And that throughline is absolutely in conversation with the fact that the 2015 segment of the second film presented a decidedly aspirational vision of the future, even though other contemporary portrayals on the new millennium were starting to skew bleaker and more cyberpunk. It would come across as a little self-aggrandizing if it didn't feel so genuine--and it also helps that some of the positive impacts shown are smaller, and more personal. George finds a fulfilling career. Doc and Clara fall in love. It's more like watching a work of fiction earnestly believe it has something to say than it is watching it be self-important.

"You can accomplish anything if you put your mind to it," "Your future hasn't been written yet. No one's has. Your future is whatever you make it, so make it a good one." Do you see. Do you see it.

[jash-updates]

Most normal energy drink consumer