#denial of feelings
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foulwitchknight · 2 months ago
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Wont Say I’m In Love: Part I Eddie Munson is nothing more than a knothead! He doesn’t look Steve in the eyes when he talks to him all he does is stare at his mating gland with a hungry look in his eye! Sure he’s asked him out a few times but Steve’s convinced his idea of a date is to fool around at Skull rock. He won’t be swayed by the pups from his Hellfire club coming to his place of work trying to vouch for him either! Though there’s a VERY SMALL part of him that thinks it’s sweet. The same part that might be attracted to Munson and is just looking for a reason to give him a chance….. He’d never give him one though, not even as the courting gifts start to appear.
Part 2
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alovye · 7 months ago
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#LESTAPPEN AFTER 2019 Austria PODIUM # DENIAL OF FEELINGS
Max: I thought you hated me, huh Charlie?😏
Charles: Shut up Max
It's a hate boner....I swear! -------------------------------------------------
Max: Go fuck yourself😡
Charles: Fuck me yourself you coward!🤬
Max: oh sure 8 pm?🤭
Charles: um
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bonbonbee · 10 months ago
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Hello!! May I request a prompt list of denial of feelings? Thank you <3
ofc sweetheart! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)
denial of feelings
prompt list by @bonbonbee
"i'm trying so hard not to fall in love with you right now."
"you don't make it very easy to not fall head over heels."
"hah! me in love with _____? now that's funny."
"why were you looking at them? look at me."
"ya'know what? maybe i'll give us a try." "wow i'm so honored."
"why would i ever love you? you're rude, selfish, arrogant, and even worse, you snore." "okay, that last one kinda hurt."
"why are you avoiding me? are you trying to not fall in love with me or something?" "that was the objective, yes."
"woops, looks like we're under the mistletoe. i guess we should-" "i'd rather launch myself into the stratosphere."
"you're avoiding me like the plague. do you love me or not?" "what? i never avoided you-" "answer the question."
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aziraphales-library · 5 months ago
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Hi, I appreciate all the time you put into this blog and everything that you do.
I was wondering if you had any fic recommendations where Aziraphale can't say "I love you"?
Like, after years of being afraid of Heaven finding out he just has a really hard time saying it? I know it’s oddly specific, but I figured I'd ask. Thank you so much for your time. Have a lovely day. <3
Hello! You can check our #denial of feelings tag for fics along these lines. Here are some where Aziraphale struggles to express his feelings for Crowley...
the one where aziraphale can't say I love you by assbuttsinlove (G)
aziraphale wants to say I love you but he can't. but he really really wants to. so crowley helps. first kisses and fluff. and a touch of angst.
E pesa come l'anima by D20Owlbear (G)
[3 + 2 +1] Three times Aziraphale never began the words, two times he fails to get them out, and one time he finally managed it. I love you hung heavy in Aziraphale's chest like an ornament on a too-small, too-barren tree, dragging down the branches with the weight and intensity of it until it nearly falls and shatters into pieces and rips itself from his lips. But instead he said, "Or I'll never speak to you again!" And that was almost the same, and he knew Crowley heard it too. That Crowley heard I'll never speak to you again and knew it meant I don't dare lose you, I love you. But then the world didn't end and he wasn't shipped off to his platoon and he was with Crowley still, his oldest and best friend in any world there might ever be and… he still couldn't say it. He's had thousands of years to practice beating it down, to keep it to himself, to only let Crowley know of his affection in the most roundabout of ways, and only a few months to unlearn it all. But, Crowley deserved more than that. Aziraphale deserved more than that too!
But The Smoke Clears When You're Around by midnightdragons (T)
“Mhm,” Crowley mumbled, before closing his eyes, curling back up around Aziraphale, and promptly falling back to sleep, one hand hooked loosely around the angel’s middle, his face pressed into his chest. Aziraphale looked down at him, his heart seizing in his chest, and gently hugged him close. “You are silly, my sweet boy,” he whispered breathlessly, sparing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead. “And I . . .” Love you, he wanted to say. Wanted so badly to say it, to reveal it to the world, if only for a single moment.
After the Armageddon that wasn't, Crowley can't rid himself of the trauma caused by a certain event, and shields himself with defensive anger and a mask of irritation. Aziraphale convinces him that it's okay to rest and recover. (Alternatively: purely sleepy intimacy, comfort, and fluff, accompanied by the lingering scent of smoke in a bookshop.)
Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)
Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did. "We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly. "I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley... "I could never love you."
An Angel and a Demon Dined at the Ritz (And Everything Went Downhill from There) by AshCommaMan (T)
Always offering. Always asking a question he must know will only ever get a “no” in response. And yet he asks anyway. “Anywhere you want to go.” You know I would do anything for you. “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” You deserve better than what I can give you. All that, and still, nothing has changed. In which Aziraphale must stop running from his feelings, or risk losing his best friend forever.
- Mod D
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autumnweeen · 2 months ago
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Updated at last!
I’ve been working on fleshing out the rest of the story since February and chapter 2 is finally here.
If you’re seeing this for the first time know that:
-it’s not a HEA
- there’s MCD
- it’s about Hanahaki disease, unrequited love and denial of feelings
- there will be blood
- kind of a canon semi-rewrite but not quite
- 24 chapters and around 90k to 100k long
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knifedancer · 1 year ago
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Hiccups (Part 1 of 2)
Marinette has incurable hiccups. Her classmates try every home remedy they can think of but nothing works. Felix thinks of one last thing she could try.
Next AO3 Link
~~~~~~~
Marinette started the morning like any other: late. Slamming her hand down on the alarm clock to shut off the blaring sounds it was making, she fell out of bed with a dull thump followed by a soft groan. As she stared through the angles of her twisted limbs caught in her blanket, Marinette acknowledged she was far more tired this morning than usual because of the one thing that she could not miracle away as Ladybug and had never found a solution for. The plague upon her life that she suffered from for years. The menace known as…
“HIC! Ugh, why did I have to have – HIC! – hiccups?” Marinette groaned as she sat up and untangled herself from the uncomfortable position she had fallen into.
Tikki flew over the teen piled on the floor and chimed, “Marinette, you’re going to be late!”
“I know, Tikki, but – HIC! HIC! – you know I’ve been up all night dealing with these hiccups. I’m so – HIC! – tired. Argh!” She threw her hands up in surrender and stumbled toward the bathroom to get ready.
The little red kwami, having experienced Marinette’s hiccup fits before, giggled a bit at her chosen’s morning antics. However, with a near tumble down the stairs and quick pitstop in the bakery below to grab cookies for Tikki, they were on their way in fifteen minutes. If she rushed, they would make it before the bell! Marinette sprinted to school, hiccupping through huffed breathing as she managed to slide into her seat just as the bell rang. Luckily for her, Madam Bustier was out sick that day and the substitute was still searching through their paperwork to find the attendance sheet.
“Girl, don’t tell me you have the hiccups?” Alya asked in a whisper.
“Hey – HIC! – Alya. Yeah, I didn’t sleep at all because I – HIC! – kept waking up all night,” whispered back the exhausted teen.
“Did you try drinking a glass of water? That always settles my hiccups,” replied Alya.
Marinette opened her mouth to reply when she was interrupted by yet another set of hiccups. Nino decided to intervene on his childhood friend’s behalf. “Mari’s hiccups are legendary, babe! Nothing cures them! One time in fifth grade her hiccups lasted a whole week before they went away.”
It was then that the substitute hushed the class and started roll call. Marinette tried to call ‘present’ when her name was announced but was only able to raise her hand as yet another loud hiccup escaped her mouth and echoed around the classroom. As the class began to giggle, she felt mortified and resigned herself to the embarrassment that would be her life today. Adrien spared her a pitying glance and small smile over his shoulder, Marinette melted a bit as she shyly waved in acknowledgement. ‘He’s so sweet, too bad his smile doesn’t cure my hiccups. At least he’s not laughing at me. Maybe today won’t be so bad?’ Marinette thought hopefully.
The class was quickly shushed, handed a History worksheet that they could work on in pairs, and told they could socialize quietly if they finished their work early that period. Marinette turned to Alya and got to work. Marinette wasn’t looking forward to attempting to talk through her hiccups, but she wouldn’t mind trying to catch a short nap during their downtime. Unfortunately for her, their classmates were never going to allow the poor girl to rest when they had a cure to find! Thus, during the last 30 minutes in the period, Marinette found her desk surrounded by her friends inquiring about her hiccups and tossing remedy ideas around.
“Mari, have you tried holding your breath?” Kim asked. “Always works for me!”
“Bet my cure for hiccups will work and yours won’t,” challenged Alix.
“Guys, maybe – HIC! – don’t bet on – HIC!” started Marinette.
“You’re ON!” readily agreed the jock as if Marinette had not just spoken.
‘This is going to be a long day…,’ thought Marinette tiredly.
The day passed slowly, punctuated by random jump scares at lunch and unending suggestions from every classmate for solutions to her plight. Each suggestion was followed by Max calling out the probability of success as calculated by Markov. Well, almost every classmate was invested... Felix, as usual, was attempting to enjoy his book and ignore the hubbub around him. Marinette had caught a glimpse of him scowling at her for a fit of hiccups that interrupted the quiet reading time during Literature class. However, as soon as the look was given and before she could attempt to whisper an apology, Felix’s face returned to the indifferent mask he always wore and buried his nose back into his book. The girl huffed softly and went back to drowsily staring at the page of increasingly jumbled words.
Much to her disappointment, her classmates’ never-ending exuberance to help with her hiccups left Marinette without a single moment to rest and, as each hour dragged on, the little energy she had waned even further. All she wanted to do was lay her head down for a few minutes! However, during their free period, her classmates kept piling on the suggestions until she finally sleepily acquiesced to attempting these supposed “cures.” Alya kept a list of their tests and the results:
Jump scare(s), failure.
Breathe into a paper bag, failure.
Running a marathon. (“Really, Kim?”)
Slowly drink a full glass of water, failure.
Pull knees to chest and lean forward, failure.
Swallow granulated sugar, failure.
Bite into a lemon, failure.
Hold your breath (until she nearly fainted), failure.
Practiced measured breathing, failure.
Squeezing your nose while swallowing water, failure.
Stretching her solar plexus, failure.
Standing on your head and drinking water upside-down, failure.
Holding your breath and swallowing three times, failure.
Gargling cold water, failure.
After the last failed attempt ended with water spilling on her shirt from a wayward hiccup mid-gargle, Marinette held up her hands in defeat and stopped. The bell had rung and there was a brief break that she wanted to go retrieve a spare shirt from her locker. ‘Just a couple more periods until school is over,’ she thought as she dragged herself downstairs to her locker. ‘Hopefully there won’t be an akuma attack before these go away! How embarrassing would it be to have hiccups as Ladybug? Chat would never let me live it down!’
Marinette felt Tikki’s little reassuring pats through her purse as yet another strong hiccup popped up mid-yawn. She whined softly at not even being able to yawn without hiccupping. She pulled out the white athletic shirt and quickly exchanged the two with a sigh, making sure to refresh her lip gloss and straighten her pigtails before heading back to class. ‘At least P.E. isn’t until tomorrow,’ she thought, ‘maybe my luck is turning around and these hiccups will stop soon!’
~~ Fast forward to the end of school ~~
The final bell rang, chattering students poured from the classroom and out into the open air. Marinette was so exhausted that she moved in a sleepy trance, dragging her feet and swaying like a ship in a storm. ‘I’ll probably sleep right through my hiccups and an akuma alert at this point,’ she giggled deliriously at her thoughts. Luckily Alya just gave her an amused look while she grabbed Marinette’s elbow to keep the tired girl from falling on her face and guide her through the bustling halls. Once in the locker room, Alya gave her friend a gentle push down the correct aisle before meeting up with Nino and Adrien near the doorway.
Marinette opened her locker to exchange books for the homework due tomorrow. ‘Physics and French Literature? Shoot, did I need anything else?’ Her brow wrinkled with the concerted effort to recall the homework through the sleepy haze of her mind. She pulled a textbook from the shelf, only to have another tumble down when a powerful hiccup jostled her entire body. She cursed under her breath and quickly bent to pick it up, tossing it back into the locker while clutching the needed textbook to her chest so she wouldn’t drop it as well. Just as she turned away to recheck the books in her backpack, a shadow was cast over her feet. Marinette didn’t think much of it until her locker door was slammed shut, causing her to jump back against the next locker with a startled hiccup. She glanced up to find Felix leaned over her.
“Your hiccups have been interrupting my peace of mind all day, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” his voice sounding strangely sultry in the low but dismissive tone he was using. Felix’s right hand was firmly planted against the shut locker door, he had angled his body to face her square on and leaned slightly forward until their faces were close together. So close that she could see little flecks of gold in his green eyes and was momentarily stunned speechless by the intensity of his gaze. He gently lifted her chin with his left hand and his voice dropped down to a teasing murmur, “perhaps there might be one solution you have not yet tried.”
Everything seemed to slow and quiet around them in this moment. She could smell his cologne, the starch from his clothes, and the minty scent of his breath. Felix’s gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips as if asking for permission. If she had not been staring into his eyes, she might have missed the movement entirely. Marinette’s breath hitched with a small, almost imperceptible hiccup as her eyes started to close on instinct to his closeness. ‘Is this really happening?’ She thought. ‘No, the real Felix wouldn’t kiss me. This must be a delusion brought on by an akuma or lack of sleep. Wouldn’t hurt to be curious if this is just a dream though…’ She missed the tiny, conspiratorial smile that graced his lips before he leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
The world seemed to fall completely away as their lips met in a chaste kiss, sending an electric tingle down her spine. A rush of warmth blossomed in her chest. ‘What is this feeling? His lips are so soft,’ Marinette thought. Felix pushed forward slightly and deepened the kiss with a breathy moan. His lips teased hers until he gently bit her bottom lip, causing her to softly gasp into his mouth. Her fingers tightened their hold on her textbook in response, gripping it closer to anchor herself to the ground while her heart tried to flutter from her chest. The kiss was unexpectedly tender yet hungry, as if finding water after a long walk through the desert; firm yet gentle, like the softest satin fabric she had ever touched. The grip on her textbook began to falter as Felix’s hand started to slide down her jaw to cup her cheek. Her fingers itched to touch him. Before she could let go of the book to cave to the need to pull him in closer, a scandalized cry from their periphery broke through the quiet that had engulfed them.
The boy tugged on her lip lightly as he pulled back and she shivered as his warm hand left her skin. Marinette opened her eyes slowly as if breaking a spell. Looking up at the boy with wide eyes and her mouth still hanging slightly open, her bottom lip swollen from his gentle ministrations. His eyes were soft and he sported a surprised expression. His tongue darted out to lick at her transferred lip gloss now adorning his own. “You taste like strawberries…,” he murmured absentmindedly, just loud enough for her to hear.
With that statement, sound and time seemed to return to normal in an instant. From the corner of her eye, she could see a shocked Nino holding back an angry looking Alya ready to go on the warpath. Next to them, Adrien seemed to be confused and distraught over what he had just witnessed happen to his ‘very dear friend.’ Marinette’s face and neck grew hot as reality came crashing back but she couldn’t find any words to speak, let alone think, as if Felix had stolen that ability from her with his kiss. All she could do was stare at the boy in front of her while students hollered and whooped around them. Marinette.exe has stopped working.
However, one sound in particular was completely silent…
A smug and aloof look returned to Felix’s face as he pushed off from the locker where his hand had been and stood straight. “Seems your hiccups are gone, mademoiselle. I would appreciate if you would refrain from causing such a disturbance with your hiccups in the future.” The statement was delivered in his usual haughty, mocking tone. With that he gripped his bag strap, slightly nodded his head towards her, and walked away looking completely unfazed by what had just occurred. In his wake he left a flustered and speechless girl leaning against the lockers for support, staring off into the space he had just inhabited. Her knees shook before she slid down to the floor, her textbook sliding from her numb fingers. She was immediately swarmed by friends barraging her with questions she was unable to answer. She just needed a minute. Or twenty.
No one noticed nor paid attention to the smug looking Felix as he retreated from the building and got into his family limo. Once in the quiet protection of the tinted car, his hand touched his lips with trembling fingers and his breathing became slightly uneven. His ears turned pink as he recalled every second of the kiss in agonizing detail. A kiss that, while originally meant to be in jest, had affected him more than he would ever admit. ‘Marinette…,’ his mind whispered longingly to him. Felix’s left hand tightened its grip on his bag. He involuntarily gazed back towards the front of the school to catch a glimpse of her stumbling out in a daze as his car pulled away.
~~ BONUS SCENE ~~
The akuma should have been expected after what happened at the end of school. Lila became enraged about the kiss and having to watch their classmates positively fawn over Marinette. There was no way for the liar to twist this into making her look good nor gain sympathetic attention. It was completely predictable really. What was NOT predictable was that, when Lila, now called The Embarrassator, switched targets when she could not find Marinette.
‘Great! The first time I’ve been the target of an akuma while NOT impersonating my cousin!’ Felix thought. He hoped Ladybug didn’t still hold a grudge for that attempted kiss months ago. It’s not like he had the ability to apologize to the bug-themed heroine but he regretted it now. If she decided to spite him, he was probably going to suffer until that annoying cat boy destroyed the akumatized object. ‘I just wanted a quiet evening trip to the library to get a new book! Is that so much to ask?’
Felix saw an opening and bolted from his hiding place to try to get around the corner without being noticed by The Embarrassator. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. He heard the akuma’s cackle before her ray hit him in the back. Immediately he was wracked with hiccups, coughing between fits in an attempt to bring air to his seizing lungs. He barely noticed his clothes had transformed into an atrocious orange and hot pink jumpsuit with oversized shoes before he was running again, the akuma hot on his heels. He managed to make it about two blocks when his shoe caught on a crack in the pavement and he fell.
Within seconds, and before he could hit the ground, he was airborne. Wrapped in a slender red polka-dotted arm that held him over a petite shoulder like a mere sack of potatoes. The wind whipped at his hair and face, leaving him a disheveled mess. ‘Just great,’ he thought, ‘this can’t get any more embarrassing.’ They landed on a rooftop many blocks away from the akuma and he was set onto his feet. He stumbled back against a nearby chimney to regain his bearings from the sudden flight by magical yo-yo and hiccupped through a clipped but grateful response for being rescued.
Ladybug took in his appearance and a smirk grew across her face. “Did the akuma do this to you?” She asked, gesturing to his outfit.
“Yes, and the – HIC! – these dreaded – HIC! HIC! – hiccups!” Felix replied with exasperation. He saw Chat Noir land near the edge of the rooftop a few meters behind Ladybug as if waiting for her cue. The cat took one look at Felix and began uproariously laughing. “You try – HIC! – getting hit – HIC! – by that damned – HIC! HIC! – akuma!” Chat laughed even harder, tears beginning to form at the corners of his mask.
Ladybug was smug but quiet, her eyes seemed calculating yet sparkled with humor. Before he could even hiccup out a scathing remark or head toward the fire escape with his tattered dignity, a bright red glove landed with a loud thud against the chimney next to his head. His eyes widened with surprise as the lithe Ladybug executed a perfect kabedon maneuver. He pressed his back and the palms of his hands into the plaster of the wall behind him. He glanced up to her hand and was gobsmacked as he noted small cracks had formed at the point of impact. ‘Blimey! Just how strong is she? Did she pull her punch before?’ Felix wondered, suddenly feeling the phantom sensation of the punch from their prior interaction. She still had her yo-yo in her free hand and used the edge to tip his face to look at her. Once he met her commanding blue eyes, he was powerless to look away. ‘Her eyes…they remind me of…’
With that last fractured thought and no warning, her lips met his in a heated kiss. From the edges of his mind he heard Chat Noir’s shocked exclamation of “My Lady!” But Felix? He was lost to the sensation of Ladybug’s lips on his own, drowning in the torrent of confusing emotions that bubbled up in his chest. Her lips moved possessively and all he could do was hold on to the chimney as she claimed his. However the kiss ended as suddenly as it started, leaving Felix with a dazed, half-lidded look as he leaned forward slightly to instinctively chase her departing lips.
“Just returning the favor, monsieur,” she murmured playfully as she straightened with a smirk.
“I…what…,” began Felix, his brain still a jumble.
He watched numbly as she sashayed over to a shocked Chat Noir, whose jaw hung wide open. Bumping him with her shoulder, she motioned with a nod of her head towards an explosion and screams in the distance. She gave a two-finger salute and a wink over her shoulder to Felix before launching herself off the roof. With a confident call of “bug out!” she swung out of sight. He witnessed Chat look dumbly off towards the retreating figure of his Lady before glancing confusedly back at Felix. He swore he heard Chat mutter something about kisses and bluenette ladies in his life. Chat physically shook himself and abruptly jumped off the side of the roof without a second glance at the flabbergasted Felix.
It wasn’t until he was climbing down the fire escape to the echoes of the distant ongoing akuma battle before he realized his blasted hiccups were gone.
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tinkerbelle05 · 2 years ago
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I See You
Characters: Ao’nung x GN!Metakaynia!reader, Lo’ak x GN!Metakaynia!reader (one-sided on Lo’ak’s part)
Warnings: angst, denial of feelings, jealousy, fluff at the ending
Summary: After seeing you had become close to Lo’ak, Ao’nung started to feel jealous. But he wasn’t jealous because he liked you, he was simply looking out for you. Then, he noticed that Lo’ak was getting closer to you and then you saved him from drowning. Ao’nung realizes his feelings and takes some inspiration to snatch your attention away from the forest boy. 
Word count: 4,935
Taglist & Masterlist
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Ao’nung has known (Y/N) for as long as he knew life. He couldn’t think of a time when you weren’t attached to his sister’s hips. And in a way it made sense, your parents were good friends with his parents. So for most of his life, you were just another annoying sister and someone he generally ignored unless he wanted to prank you with his friends. 
But then at some point, he saw you in a different light. The way you smiled at him, all toothy and sweet. The way the sun would shine on your blue eyes, how your skin was the same teal color as the ocean, and the marking on your skin looked like the waves. How he would love to trace them with his fingers.
In every sense of the word, you were undoubtedly stunning. You gave him butterflies, and Ao’nung didn't get butterflies. Sure, he gave other people those feelings because look at him. But it was never the other way around. 
 Instead, it was. And there was proof of those feelings whenever your hand brushed against his or how your laugh made him smile. Hell, even you looking in his general direction did something to him.
“Oh Eywa, dude this is getting depressing now,” Rotxo grumbled in irritation. “This is the 3rd time this week I caught you staring at them, looking like a lost baby ilu.” 
Ao’nung and Rotxo were sitting by the shore, watching you play with your ilu. You were just laughing and splashing in the water with him, no care for anything but the two of you.
He groaned at his friend but before he could say anything Rotxo stopped him. “No, no, I am being serious right now. You like them, so why not just grow a pair and tell them how you feel? Your whole personality is being confident so I don’t get it.”
Ao’nung looked at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. While he and Rotxo were close, they weren’t the type to pour out their feelings to each other. It’s just not the type of person that he was. It wasn't an easy thing for Ao’nung to do. To expose the deepest part of himself to others. 
His pride is something he greatly valued but it’s so fragile, like glass, that he will do anything to protect it. Which is why he couldn’t tell you how he felt. Ao’nung and you were at a place where you could consider yourself comfortable in the presence of the other and, telling you might end up ruining the comfort you felt around him.
“Because it’s not that serious, man.” He quietly chuckled at his friend like this was a joke. One big joke. “It’s just a little crush. Trust me it won’t get any deeper than that.” Rotxo didn’t look the least bit convinced with his answer by the way his eyes flicked up and down, judging me like I was a fool. And hey, maybe he was the fool for making things harder than they needed to be. But this is his plan so he’s sticking to it. “Hey, wanna go on an ilu race? Or is all this sentimental talk to stop me from absolutely destroying you?”
Rotxo has many great, and equally horrible, qualities. One of them was extremely 50/50, his competitiveness. Sometimes he’d get way too into it, and if that’s coming from Ao’nung, then you know it’s bad. Sometimes, not as much. However, it also means if you pushed the right buttons, he’d lose track of whatever he was originally thinking.
He glared at Ao’nung, offended that he’d even imagined the idea of beating him, much less speaking it into existence. “So, that’s how it’s gonna be?” He got up and started to call to his ilu and Ao’nung readily followed suit. It was supposed to be a ruse to get Rotxo to drop the topic, yet he’d only just scratched the surface.
“Yo, (Y/N) come and be the ref for our race!” Rotxo called out to you and gave his friend a knowing look. That conniving little shit, always having something up his eywa-damned sleeve.
But before he could give Rotxo hell for it, they appeared. The forest people, riding on their..ikans? He thinks they're called. Ao’nung wonders what they were here for. Forest people belong in the forest, not the reefs. 
“Guys, father is calling a clan meeting,” Tsireya called out to us. She looked confused, and slightly anxious, mainly confused. Her lips were pursed together and her eyes were darting around. Ao’nung knew why, the last time a group of Na’vi, he assume from the forest, traveled out this far it had not been good news.
It happened 15 years ago, a year just after hr was born. The war, as the people called it. The Toruk Makto, a former Dreamwalker, rallied up the many clans who lived in the forest, along the reefs, and on the plains to fight against the other Dreamwalkers. The war was devastating even though we won. Homes were destroyed and families have ripped apart.
They all walked along the path to the clan meeting grounds. The usual chit-chattering was replaced by dead silence as each Metkayina racked their brains for why this was happening, and what it could mean for their clan.
____________________________________________
Ao’nung was fucking seething, frothing at the mouth even. He was so irritated, it wasn't fair at all. It wasn’t, it just wasn’t fair. For some reason, his father had asked, no, he had demanded that Ao’nung and his sister help the Omatiakan teens settle into their new home.
It turns out that the oh-great Toruk Makto and his family are being hunted, so instead of fighting  like an actual Na’vi would have, he ran away like those Dreamwalkers do. Ao’nung guessed under the blue skin and towering height, he still was nothing more than a Dreamwalker, a demon. 
He didn’t come asking for help to battle, but to hide and cower like a coward with his family. And on top of that, some of them had 5 fingers. And they were forest people. Their indigo skin would stand out starkly against the vast and rich cerulean sea and make it harder to hide from predators that they couldn’t outswim or fight. Speaking about outswimming, their skinny tails and arms would make it hard for them to swim against the harsh currents. They would never survive in the reefs. And if Ao’nung had thought of all this, for certain, his Father did as well.
“Okay,” Tsireya says, clapping her hands together. “First order of business is introducing each other.” She smiled warmly at the forest people, that’s his sister for you. Always kind and welcoming, even to outsiders. He definitely hoped that you would have a better head on your shoulders.
 Right now everyone is sitting in a circle near the ocean. The actual first order of business was to teach the forest people how to breathe underwater. So pretty much teaching the basics that even kids as young as three could do in their sleep. 
Ao’nung still couldn’t understand why his father would volunteer him to waste his precious free time teaching these forest people. His sister seemed more than happy to teach them by herself so why’d he have to tag along? His only saving grace was that you were also in attendance, Rotxo having tagged along too. Not that he’s happy because he likes you or anything. Just that having his both friends here makes it more bearable.
“Well, I’ll go first,” You started with a warm grin on your face. So you didn’t have a good head on your shoulder. He didn’t know why he expected better, you were always one to lend a helping hand. 
You looked breath-taking today, your hair hanging loose and a set of matching bracelets adorned your wrist. They’d look really pretty with a necklace to finish off the look. “Hello, my name is (Y/N). It’s really nice to meet you guys, even if it’s under these circumstances.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” one of the forest people said. “My name is Lo’ak.” he gave you a ‘charming’ smile that had Ao’nung pouting like a little baby.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ao’nung saw his sister smile slightly and murmur something under her breath. Now, he wasn’t the best mouth reader but he was pretty sure that she said that boy’s name. Does she like him? Already? It’s only been a few minutes, damn. Oh, Eywa help him.
The rest of the forest freaks and Rotxo introduced themselves but he couldn’t be bothered to listen to any of them. He saw the lingering glances that Lo’ak kept giving you and how you’d laugh at all of his stupid and frankly cringe-worthy jokes. But he doesn’t care, well he does care but not that much though.  But not because he likes you or anything, just looking out for you like a friend should. Yeah, just looking out for you because you deserve a good person and this Lo’ak dude is below average.  
Though, Ao’nung understood exactly why Lo’ak fell for you. While teaching them how to breathe, you were always patient and calm with everyone. Especially with Lo’ak who just so happens to always need extra help. And will always need it from you. To Ao’nung’s dismay, Lo’ak’s constant longing stares, bright smile directed towards you, maybe a touch that lasted too long all continued well into the months that the Sullys had stayed here. 
And then, it happened. It was during their training sessions when Lo’ak went under and hadn’t come out. Tsireya was the first to notice his absence, shouting at the others for help. Ao’nung brushed it off as him just wanting attention from you yet again. He’d been pretending that he can’t ride the ilu so he’ll need help or something along those lines if that didn't work.
However, you had dived right into the water in search of him, while his sister and Rotxo called to their ilus. 
“Neteyam, you guys stay here in case he washes up along the shore!” Tsireya called out before riding out into the blue waves on her ilu in search of the ‘missing’ teen.
“Shouldn’t we call the adults?” Kiri, the freakiest of them all, asked her brother. Neteyam was by far the only tolerable one. Then she looked at me, “Aren’t you gonna do something, fish lips?” She sneered the question out.
Ao’nung only rolls his eyes at her naivety. She had grown up with the idiot and still didn’t know his tactics.  “Oh give me a break. You guys have been here for weeks now, the only reason that idiot is ‘drowning’ is because he wants attention!” He snapped back at her.
Whatever the freak said next fell on deaf ears as he watched you pull the idiot out of the water. You were mesmerizing, the ocean blended in with your skin, making you seem a part of it. You looked powerful and fearless, carrying the boy on your back effortlessly. Once you got to the shore, the others quickly surrounded you guys. Ao’nung watched as you laid Lo’ak on his back, checking him over. Giving him your undivided attention. You started chest compressions on him and in a few minutes, he was coughing up water.
But let this be known, Ao’nung is not jealous because he doesn’t like you like that. He just doesn’t want you with someone who would pay a cheap trick like that on you. 
Laying his head in your lap and looking down at him you spoke gently. “Are you okay, Lo’ak? Can you breathe?” You looked up, face wrecked with worry and terror as you turned to Tsireya. “Reya, please go get your mother.”
“No,” Lo’ak protested weakly. He sits up but his hand is still holding on to yours. “I’m fine. Thanks for saving me.” He’s all smiles and heart eyes. Gross.
After the situation died down he went to his family’s shared Mauri, laying on his back and staring at the huts roof. That’s when he realized it. Thinking about the feelings he had regarding you and Lo’ak. He always knew, deep down, that he liked you. More than a friend. 
“I like them.” He says to himself, softly. Testing out the sentence on the tips of his lips. “I like them.” He said again, with more confidence this time. He likes the way saying it makes him feel. The beating of his heart and the heat from his cheeks. This feeling was familiar but foreign in the same way. Either way, he loved this feeling. He loved you.
The pain in his chest returned once he realized he was more than likely too late. He knew what that forest freak was going to do after this. It was clear as day, anyone could see it.  And he doesn’t know who he hates more. Lo’ak or himself.
____________________________________________
Ao’nung had an idea. It was a stupid and hypocritical given his thoughts on what Lo’ak had done, but it was an idea nonetheless. He wanted to tell you about his feelings. He wanted to say them so much that it hurt and his throat closed up from how dry his screams of confession would become. He didn’t know if you would accept his feelings but the least he wanted to say was the he tried.
Ao’nung and you were alone for the day, with the forest freaks off exploring and only Eywa knows where his sister had run off to. He didn’t know what was up with her these days but she’d been moody and snappy. 
The sun was high in the cloudless sky and the waves were calm. Usually, this scenery would soothe Ao’nung but nothing could with the pounding of his heart.
“So, wanna go for a swim today?” He asked you, he had assumed newly courted pairs would be together unless you had rejected Lo’ak or the fingered demon hadn’t said anything yet. No matter the reason, this was his chance.
“Yes, that would be great, Ao’nung.” You gave him a smile before a devilish smirk slipped onto your face. “The last one there is a rotten ilu egg!” Was the only warning he had gotten before you took off into the ocean.
Ao’nung let out a bright laugh and ran to join you in the ocean, determined to not lose. He dove into the water, the coolness of it was a relief from the scorching sun that was burning him a few minutes ago. One of the best things about living among the reefs was how calm the water was. The oceanic life around him was just beautiful, he saw it every day yet it always managed to take his breath away. The plants were colorful and the animals swam around you both, not paying attention to either of you as both you and Ao’nung admired them.
The swim was one of the best he had in a while, and it was most definitely not because you were there. Okay, maybe it was because you were here.
 He wanted to do it, to have your attention. No more forest boy trying to steal you away. And that's when he realized how. He'd go under, you'd save him, and then he’ll confess his feelings. It would be perfect.
So with a deep breath and his mind set on putting his plan into motion, he let go of his breath and let the water push their way into his lungs. The waters presence in his lungs was immediate and uncomfortable. Oh, Eywa, it was terrifying. His instincts were telling him to swim up or breathe correctly or do something. Ao’nung would like to say that he refused because he wanted the plan to work. But truthfully it was because he was in shock and he begged you'd notice.
And when you did, the panic in your eyes crushed him. Regret filled him immediately. You swarmed quickly towards him and, once securing your hold on him, swam upwards. You struggled slightly with the weight of you both dragging you down, not to mention how scared you were. Your tears mixed with the seas, a sight that broke him even more.
Death by drowning did not happen frequently because of how strict the Metkayina were with learning to hold your breath. But when it did, it was a tragedy, mostly because the victims did it on purpose. Ao’nung watched you as you dragged his body to the golden sandy shores and quickly began chest compressions on him. He watched as you pressed into his chest, counting to yourself. He was starting to hear a ringing noise and his vision started to blacken. The last thing he saw, the last thing he remembered was how wide your eyes were. How the eyes he had grown to love so much had tears pouring out of them as you screamed, but Ao’nung didn’t hear it.
When he had finally woken up in his family’s Marui, Ao’nung slowly blinked and tried to remember how he had gotten there.
Oh. 
Oh no.
He had to find you! He had to explain, he had to apologize. Shame and panic filled him and his heart grew heavy as he remembered the fear in your eyes and the tears that were already spilling. He had just wanted your attention, and was too much of a coward to be upfront with it. 
“You need to rest, my son,” his mother’s voice spoke to him as she entered the Marui. It was soothing and almost lured him back. Almost. He got up and tried to push past his mother, but she stopped him in his tracks.
“No. Mom, I have to..” He struggled against her and attempted to break free of her hold. But she was stronger than him and managed to get him back into his cot. “What you have to do is get better,” she corrected me with a hard look. But her eyes softened, “You have a visitor though.”
She gave Ao’nung a smile, before walking back out again to grab his visitor. Not even a minute later you come rushing in. Tears still stained your cheeks and your eyes were still red from how much had been crying. “Oh, Great Mother! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You repeated like a mantra and hugged him. The hug was fierce but not too strong. Even when you are hurting, you still are considerate.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” His mother said, standing by the entrance. Nothing gave away her true feelings but, with a knowing look directed to Ao’nung, she left the Mauri.
Once you’d calmed down, you smiled sheepishly at Ao’nung and cleared your throat, “Um, sorry for how I acted earlier. It…it was just so scary seeing you passed out like that. You looked so terrified and then you were out for days. But anyways, how are you feeling?”
Guilty, like an idiot, like…like how I described the Toruk Mako at the beginning. A coward. “I- I am fine.” He finally smiled back at you. He had to tell you. No no, he should tell you. He had no right to your attention. Not after what he had put you through. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”
“Wait! Wait, before that,” You smiled at him. The same bright smile that he loved to see so much. “I have something for you.” You pulled out a bracelet, it looked similar to the ones you always wore. Hell, you are even wearing them right now. You slipped it on his wrist and it was gorgeous. Made from different types of seashells that could be found littered around the shores.
“It’s an apology bracelet, and a little something more.” You said, not looking at him and with a small blush creeping its way onto your face. “Ao’nung, I am so so sorry. I wasn’t strong enough and I should’ve called for help but I didn’t. If I did, then maybe you would have woken up sooner.”
“Hey, hey. None of that.” He corrected you. “What happened to ‘it is your fault and your fault alone Ao’nung!’? Okay, do not blame yourself.” Guilty was absolutely wrecking him, how long had you been thinking this? He should tell you. Tell you now. But... ”Something more?” He questioned you. Yes, he was being racked with guilt and this ‘apology bracelet’ did nothing to help the feeling. But Ao’nung couldn't just ignore the ‘something more’. He couldn't ignore the beating of his heart. He had ignored his feelings enough.
You took a deep breath before confessing. You tell Ao’nung these feelings were always there and that you were worried that you’d always be the ‘childhood friend’. But having him almost die right in front of you, watching his eyes close with the possibility of them never opening again stirred you into action. 
Ao’nung was delighted to hear this from you. He’d never allow himself the dream that you’d actually reciprocate the feelings he kept hidden. It would hurt too much if he got his hopes up for nothing. But, like all good things, he knew this moment would not last. So he savored it, the emotions he felt, the way you looked at him, committing everything to memory. 
Then he confessed. 
For the kind and gentle soul you were, seeing you angry was like seeing a completely different person. Rage consumed you, and you lashed out at everyone. One of the elders described it as being stuck in the storm’s path with no clear way out. Another said it’s because you don’t get angry often so it just builds and then erupts like a fiery volcano. Doing more harm to yourself over anyone else.
You pulled your hands out of his quickly as if they were a piece of fresh coal, burning away at your skin. The look you gave made his body ache with sorrow, nothing but anger and disappointment could be seen in your eyes.
“So, let me get this right,  you were jealous of my ‘closeness’ with Lo’ak, and gave me a heart attack…gave everyone a heart attack-!” You shout at him in rage. And then proceed to throw up more screams of bitterness and anger. Not just at him, but everything. Ao’nung clutched the bracelet you had given him, to hold on to a sweet memory. It was no use trying to talk to you.  Too blinded by your emotions to listen. No less believe the boy.
“I…I can’t believe you’d do something so reckless, so selfish, so stupid! Everyone was worried for you. You could’ve died, Ao’nung!” You roared with your fists clenched at your sides. That’s when Ao’nung saw the tears that were rolling down your face. Not bothering to brush them away.
That was when Tsireya came running in, probably hearing your shouts and sobs. She looks between you two in puzzlement before looking at him in vexation. “What’s going on here?” She demanded of Ao’nung with a facial expression that looked eerily similar to their Mothers.
She turns to look at you but you simply shake your head at her with a weary smile before leaving. She turns to look at her brother with her signature ‘you are fucked’ stare. “What did you do?” She demanded again but spoke a lot more harshly.
Ao’nung could only sigh and tell her the whole story. She gave him a disappointed look, her eyes blown wide and mouth agape. Normally he’d give her shit for looking at him like that, but he deserved every last bit of disappointment that was about to be thrown his way. And, every bit of the verbal lashing his mother will soon give him when word gets out.
After a moment of silence, she talks. “You need to apologize to Ao’nung. I know that is a given but seriously. They were a mess and inconsolable for days after you passed out, and would hardly leave your side.” She looks away from him for a minute but then talks. “Lo’ak, did like them and the stunts he played were for their attention, but they always liked you.” With that, she leaves him to think about the revelation. He couldn’t mistake the voice crack she had halfway through though. 
For days, Ao’nung sat there, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. He’d twist the shells on the bracelet you gave him before everything went to shit. 
“What troubles you, my son?” His father asked him one day while Ao’nung lay in his bed, his depressive state yet to pass. He just wanted to curl up and hide away, even if he did have a game plan to apologize, he couldn’t either way. “Well.” Tonowarai walks over to his cot and sits on the edge, a patient smile on his face.
Ao’nung let out a low exhale and proceeded to tell him everything that happened. He was honestly surprised that Tsireya hadn’t ratted him out yet but she hadn't been there for a few days. 
His father narrowed his eyes at him. “So you endangered yourself…because you were jealous?” He asked the question slowly and stared at him puzzled. “First, you are definitely grounded for that stupid stunt because I and your mother did not raise a skxawng. That behavior is not of someone who will one day lead the clan.” But his father’s eyes grew softer as did his tone. “Secondly, be honest with them. It’s been a few days so maybe they might’ve calmed down but know this. They are not obligated to accept your apology or to be as close as you once were.”
Every time Ao’nung would come to you, he was ignored. He would try to say hello just for you to mumble an excuse and scurry away or if it even looked like he’s walking in your general direction you would take off. He doesn’t take this to heart, remembering his father’s wise words. It was rather annoying but he knew he deserved it. For the next three days Ao’nung has been collecting seashells from the sand and asked Rotxo to collect shells from the ocean. Not that Ao’nung was scared or anything because that would be embarrassing. It’s just…easier to have Rotxo do it while Tsireya teaches him how to weave a necklace for you, that he was planning to be similar to the matching bracelets you had. 
So, maybe he was a bit scared of the water, liking going too deep with no one around. But, slowly, with the help of his mother, he was getting more comfortable. 
Today was the day. It was nearing eclipse when Ao’nung found you with his gift in hand and he slowly approached you. He didn’t get that close when you held a hand up, stopping him. In a monotone and cold voice, you spat at him “What?”
“I am so sorry-” He started to say.
“No!” You butt in. “I do not want to hear this from you, I can’t hear this from you Ao’nung. I can’t.” Despite your attempts at keeping your voice leveled, it still broke. To hear this emotion in their voice just shattered his heart. To think that your hurt was because of him.
Ao’nung held on to your shoulders as you tried their best to get out of his grip and just away from him in general. He forced your eyes to meet, and for the first time in weeks, he saw those gentle blue hues he missed so much. Saw the bright white freckles dotting your teal skin, and saw the wave-like marks on your body. He saw the anger and pain he had caused you, the tears that never ended, the glare you sent at him. He saw them all.
He caressed your face like it was the most precious pearl in the ocean  and spoke, “I am truly sorry for the pain and despair I caused you. The reasoning will not make it any better but please let me explain. You can go our entire lives hating and wanting nothing to do with me, but please let me explain.” 
You slowly nod your head and put some distance between the two, now his grip had loosened. “Go on Ao’nung.”
Ao’nung began, “I’ve always…liked you, but I thought that you would never like me the same and so as to not ruin our friendship I said nothing and pretended that I didn’t like you. But then those fore-.” He paused, “The Omatiycans came. Lo’ak came, and he got too comfortable with you. It made me jealous to see the closeness and the attention you gave him. So instead of being honest with you, I decided to pretend to drown. But I did not do this as a sick joke, I did it because I care for you a lot and I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Ao’nung sucked in a breath, before he whispered to you, “ I…I did it because I see you.”
Silence engulfed you two as Pandora became alive in the night. The bright plants bloomed around the two of you, definitely setting a more romantic vibe. Ao’nung watched as you took a deep breath and considered some things. He did not know what was going on in your head but he surely hoped that you took his words into consideration before taking action. He even pleaded with Eywa.
“You said that you..see me?” You question him, your eyes widen as his words finally click.
He blinked, nervously looking to the side as his teal skin showed some resemblance of a blush. “Yes..I meant every word that I said. What I did was childish, and for that I am sorry.”
“It’s okay, Ao’nung I forgive you. But you will be making it up to me.” You said with a serious tone.
Ao’nung lets out a small chuckle, just happy that he was forgiven. He leaned in, his breath fanning your cheek, before giving it an almost experimental kiss. “Well,” He brings out the matching necklace he spent days crafting, a cheeky grin growing on his face as he pulled back. “This is for you.”
You gasp at the sight of it and take it gingerly into your hands. Your eyes wide with and your hold gentle, almost as if it could break at any given moment.. Ao’nung watches as you inspect the necklace, your love for crafting making this stare a lot more nerve wracking for him. Truth be told, he was nervous as hell, but if it wasn’t up to your standards then he’d remake it until you're satisfied. 
“Wait, Ao’nung..this matches the bracelets I made.” You marveled at him with shining eyes and a bright smile on your face. It was just nice to see you smile at him like you used to.
“Yes, which means that we have a matching set.” He shows his wrist, shaking it and looking at the bracelet you had made him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, staying still and relishing the moment as he wraps his arms around your waist. After a few seconds of silence you whisper into his ear,
“I see you too Ao’nung.”
____________________________________________
Tag list & Dedication
I would love to give a special thanks and dedication to  @enslique for being my lovely editor and making the fic 10x better, and to  @crabcollectorskykid for allowing me to use their idea from a shitpost they made. 
337 notes · View notes
riahlynn101 · 1 year ago
Text
"Unravel."
Summary: Mike takes the first step in confessing his feelings. It goes as well as you'd expected. (ft. Abby being adorable, baking cookies, and drawing pictures).
Thank you, guys, for all the support these one shots have been getting. I appreciate all of it <3 You guys are the best!
--
There are few things Mike loves more than spending quality time with his little sister. It’s harder now that mom’s gone. Money’s tight, and he knows that he isn’t as present as he used to be. A lot of the things they used to do together cost money.
Thankfully, their favorite activity, doodling random pictures while seated next to each other, is free (free, because Abby guilted Aunt Jane into buying her an art set for Christmas). 
“Keith pulled my hair today,” his sister says, shading in the sun she’s drawn. 
“Did you kick him in the-”
Abby cuts him off. “No. Rachel saw him do it and told the teacher.”
Mike hums. “So, he got in trouble?”
“Ms. Arbor said that he did it, because he likes me.”
“That’s a lie,” Mike says without skipping a beat. “Kyle’s a fu- freaking… uh…not a nice person.”
His sister gives a long-suffering sigh. “His name is Keith.”
Teasing his sister is Mike’s other favorite pastime. “That’s what I said,” he says in an exasperated voice. “ Kyler.”
Abby giggles, shaking her head. “No, Keith.”
“Kevin?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Keith.”
“Kayden?”
“Keith.”
“Abracadabra?” 
His sister laughs, wiping at the tears in her eyes. “You’re being silly, Mike. That’s not even a name.”
There are few sounds more precious to Mike than his sister’s laughter. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 
He pretends to pout, crossing his arms. “It could be.”
“Nuh, uh,” she says. 
“Yeah, huh,” Mike shoots back. 
Suddenly, their doorbell rings. 
“Who is it?” Abby asks
“I don’t know.”
The person rings the doorbell again. 
Mike pats his sister’s head. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Creeping to the door, he goes through every single person that could possibly be bothering them. Uncle Hank and Maxine have been missing for a couple weeks now. Aunt Jane usually calls before she comes over (usually). Social services maybe? 
It wouldn’t surprise him, but Mike would rather not deal with them today. They always upset Abby with their questions, and she’s in a really good mood today. 
He peeks out the window, trying his best to be discreet. 
Vanessa makes eye contact with him. She waves at him, smiling sunnily. 
He opens the front door. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Mike asks, genuinely curious. 
“Well….I had the day off, and I was in the neighborhood…” she trails off, 
Wait. Does she want to spend time with him (and Abby)? That can’t be the case, right? Right? Mike tries not to get his hopes up. 
“Oh,” he says, blinking, “come inside. Abby and I are coloring right now.” He steps aside, letting her come in. 
Abby runs over to Vanessa, a piece of paper in her hands. She bounces up and down. “I drew this for you.”
Mike takes Vanessa’s jacket, watching as she engages Abby in excited conversation. Her face lights up when she looks at the paper. 
“For me?” She asks.
“Yeah,” Abby says, timidly. 
The paper has three figures. One with short dark hair, a slightly shorter one with shoulder length dark hair, and one that’s taller than both of them with a yellow ponytail. All three of them wear matching smiles. A sun sits in the corner of the paper and other, more animalistic figures stand behind the three figures. 
“Is that…”
“Foxy, Bonnie, Freddy, Chica, and Fredbear.”
“Fredbear…?” She quirks a brow. 
Mike’s heart seizes in his chest. The name feels hauntingly familiar. Vanessa looks at him, and he somehow manages to keep a neutral face. He shrugs. 
“Yeah, he’s my friend.” Abby places the paper off to the side. She takes Vanessa by the hand. “Do you want to make cookies?”
“Abby,” Mike starts, not wanting to his sister to scare off Vanessa, “she-”
“I would love to.” 
Abby squeals, pulling her to the kitchen. Vanessa looks back at him, winking. 
It takes Mike’s brain a solid minute to process what just happened. “Did she just….”
He chases after them.
-x-x-x-
“It says we need to pour ¾ cup of water into the bowl,” Abby reads from the book. Flour sticks to her face, hair, and hands. 
Vanessa nods, filling up the measuring cup with water. She hands it to Abby who dumps it into the bowl. 
“Cool, now we need three eggs.”
Mike carefully cracks the eggs, making sure none of the shells fall into the batter. As much as he trusts his sister, he’s also sure none of them want eggshell-flavored cookies. He passes the bowl back to her, and goes to the sink to wash his hands off. 
Vanessa takes his place, making sure Abby reads the recipe correctly (and also making sure she doesn’t fall off the chair.) A grin breaks across his face, watching the exchange. A sudden thought pops into his head. 
“I have to grab something, stay here,” Mike says. 
“Was planning on it,” Abby sasses. Vanessa hides her laughter behind her hand. 
“Yeah, yeah.”
He returns five minutes later, camera in hand. His mom used to take pictures of everything. They have entire boxes full of Garrett, his, and Abby’s baby pictures. Mike never saw the appeal of taking photos, it annoyed him to no end having to stand still. But now that’s she gone….
Mike lifts the camera. “Smile,” he says.
Vanessa and Abby turn to look at him, smiling for the camera. He snaps a quick picture. 
“Your turn,” Vanessa tells him, reaching out for the camera.  
“My turn?’ 
Abby nods. “You need to be in the picture too. It’s not the same without you.”
“Okay, okay.” He laughs, situating himself between his two favorite people Vanessa and Abby. 
Vanessa snaps a photo of all three of them crammed together. Messy with flour and batter staining their hair, faces, and clothes. Abby has an arm slung over both of their shoulders, and a wide grin across her face, and Mike and Vanessa both look like they’re trying not to laugh. 
Mike already knows he’s going to frame it. 
-x-x-x-
Later after they’re done with baking, and Abby’s been sent off to bed, Vanessa starts wiping down the counters. 
“That was fun,” she says.
“Mhm,” Mike agrees, scrubbing a pan. “Though, I could do without the cleanup part.”
Vanessa snickers. “And miss all the fun?”
“Yeah, so much fun.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, cleaning the kitchen. 
“Thank you,” Mike says, breaking the quiet. 
“For?” Vanessa throws the dirty rag she’d been using in a corner. 
“For….I dunno.” Mike shrugs. His eyes remain fixated on the sink in front of him. 
“You….don’t know…?”
“I mean…I like having you around. You’re nice.”
“I’m nice?”
“Yes.” He shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes. God why is this so difficult?”
A hand rests on his shoulder. Warm and comforting. “Mike….? Is everything okay?”
Mike turns to face her, wiping the soapy water clinging to his hands on his pants. “I wanted to say, thank you for hanging out with Abby and me. It’s been a long time since anyone’s gone out of their way to do that. And you keep doing it. The tea party last week, the diner you took us to the week before that. It….means a lot to us. To me.”
Vanessa shifts in her spot, arms crossed. An unreadable expression crosses her face, but her eyes look like they’re misting up. “Uh…I like hanging out with you guys too.” Her voice sounds strained, like she’s struggling not to cry. 
Mike’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit!  I didn’t mean to make you cry. Are you okay? I can-”
“No, you’re okay. I just…need to go home.” She starts for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at Freddy’s. Thanks for the cookies, and tell Abby that I said, ‘bye.’” 
“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Yeah…I’m okay. Just a little tired. See you later, Mike.”
Before he can get another word in, she’s gone. 
Resting his head in his hands, Mike groans. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath. 
-x-x-x-
“I want out,” Vanessa hisses into the phone. 
“How come?” 
“My priorities have changed.”
“Meaning?”
She grips the phone tighter, imagining it’s her boss’ neck instead. “ Meaning, that I don’t want to work for you anymore.”
“You like him.” 
She scoffs. “No, I just-”
“You know what you’re giving up if you go against me, don’t you?”
“I’m not going against you. I haven’t told him anything. I just can’t go against him either. I’m….” Vanessa trails off, trying to choose her words carefully. “ Fond of him. Besides, he’s kind of cute.”
“Cute, eh?” Her boss says, annoyance clear in his tone. “Cute enough to abandon your brother?”
She deflates a little. “I’m…I’m not-”
“Are you fond of him enough to leave your brother all alone?”
“Stop it,” Vanessa grits out, tightening her grip. “He has nothing to do with that.”
“Well, if you’re ready to give that all up….then, I’m sure Cassidy would understand.”
Tears slide down her face. Her breath comes out shuddery, as she fights the urge to cry. “Stop. I- I don’t want to leave my brother. Don’t make me give that up.”
“Oh, my dear, I’m not making you do anything. You’re doing it all by yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I change my mind.”
“Good,” her boss says, pleased. “Then, I expect you’ll have no problems this upcoming week.”
“Of course not.”
The phone line goes dead. Her grip on the phone is slack, and it falls from her hand. Sobs wrack her body, as Vanessa curls up on her couch. 
She never wanted this. 
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writingoncloudydays · 7 months ago
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I need you more than you know
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Summary: Dean needs Castiel more than he realizes. The thought of not having him hurts more than he will admit.
Warnings: Angsty, mention and description of character death, hurt/ no comfort, mentions of vomit.
0.87k Words
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The hunt had only been a couple of hours away, and there were only a few vampires. However, they did happen to get Sam and Dean into trouble, leading Castiel to make a dramatic entrance to save them both. Nealy gets hurt but quickly recovers, hoping to hide the fact from Sam and Dean. Dean saw it—he always did. He saw the rush of panic sweep Castiel's eyes; his body stiffened as he quickly thought of his next move.
Sam was thankful, of course. Dean, however, had a little more trouble expecting help. He and Castiel had hit a rough patch again, and Castiel had only recently come back after dying again. Though he seemed to reject the idea of Castiel helping them, his anger masked his worry.
The thought of losing him again hurt more than it should. The image of Castiel lying lifeless in his arms, those once shining blue eyes now a dual grey staring back at him. His lips were slightly parted as the last breath escaped them, slipping past in a quiet sigh. The weight of his body presses against slightly falling, only stopping when Dean grips tighter onto him. Tears swell in his eyes, blurring the sight of his lover best friend dead in his arms.
The feeling of his chest fighting a high-pitched ringing in his ears. The compression of his chest turned his breath shallow and quick. A thick layer of sweat soaked his shirt, making the material uncomfortable on his skin. The shortness of breath fuels the dizzy feeling consuming him. The ringing heightens its pitch, and the sound is now becoming unbearable. Head-pounding thoughts swim, and he feels himself drown in guilt.
Dean could still feel Castiels hands slip out of his own, losing the warmth that Dean craved to feel against him. They don't want to be the reason Castiel's eyes shine bright; they need to see them sparkle in the sunlight. Watching as light hits them alters the colour to a pale blue that stares into his soul. To feel the connection between them every time they touch, small lingering touches that only they seem to notice.
The small touches push their friendship closer to the border, but neither one will admit it. Noting but secret touches and lingering touches, not wanting to push the boards of friendship. They're drawn to each other. Something connects their souls. Pushing them towards each other despite everything else around them. It's always them. Nothing else matters.
Eyes locking for longer than necessary blue night, staring back into a green forest. Colours clash but mix well, with the sky swimming through the green grass, rain falling into trees, and the bark painting in droplets. Eyes slowly drop down to each other lips, slightly parting them, the other running his tongue over his bottom lip. The realisation of their situations dawns on them both. Eyes no longer staring at faces, now focused hands in closed fists. Fighting then the thin line between friends and lovers that neither dares to cross.
Nothing was said between them, and nothing will ever be said. Things stay the same. That's how things were: nothing would change. The risk was too high, and the game would continue as it always did. The feelings that burn inside them will never become a flaming forest.
A candle had only a small spark, and the wind threatened to put it out. The fine line between friends and lovers weighed on the candle, flicking with every lingering touch, game of jealousy, fight, and every godman time they had woken in each other's beds in each other's arms. No one dared to say anything. It was easier that way, wasn't it, not to have the risk of being set a flame?
Dean wanted to confess that he wanted to feel Castiel against him. He wanted someone to care for him, tell him it's okay to cry, comfort him. To wake up in his arms, breathing softly, his face relaxed against Castiek's chest, smiley softly at the sight above him.
Yet now, he would never get the chance to have him as his lover Castiel was gone, and they hadn't gotten him back. It wasn't Castiel who saved Sam and Dean on the hunt; it was Charlie, not Castiel.
Dean's brain tried to heal his heart by replacing the hurt with closure, which only worsened things. Nothing seems to help anymore apart from the liquor in his beer bottle, which is now empty; only a thin layer coats the bottom. Many bottles linger around his room, the stench becoming thick, mixing with the smell of dried vomit. Only having liquor and small amounts of food a day, that's if he remembers to eat. His body feels dead, his heart clinging to the little hope of getting Castiel back. His brain fighting to keep him alive, but it falls deaf on his ears.
Dean was affected by Castiels death more than he wanted to admit. The pain was unbearable. His heart ached. A piece was messing that nobody else could replace.
Dean could not expect Cass's death.
Dean misses Cass. He missed his best friend.
Dean loves loved Castiel more than he wanted to admit.
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writingwife-83 · 8 months ago
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Character A: I’m not in love with you, ok? And what’s more, I never will be. There’s nothing here between us. You need to stop waiting for something that will never happen, and just move on.
Character B: …
Character A: well, say something.
Character B: That’s was a nice speech. Very well said. Tell me, when you were planning it out… did you actually convince yourself that it was true?
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foulwitchknight · 1 month ago
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Wont Say I’m in Love: Part III
Ok so Steve gave in a little. He agreed to go to ONE movie night. Then proceeded to attend every single one after. He reluctantly admits (to himself only) that he was having a good time and wanted Robin there too. He asked Eddie if he could invite her and he enthusiastically agreed. Which didn’t further endear him to Steve at all. He even lets Eddie drive him to work sometimes. Every other day. Plus he started accepting some of his courting gifts and he doesn’t want to be rude so he’ll give something in return. His favorite treats, new records (which they sometimes listen to together) and a rare first edition of his favorite comic series that took him weeks to hunt down. You know insignificant things. He’s also met Wayne which the pups insist is a big deal. Steve understands that meeting the parents is significant but the pups insist it means more than when they did it. He doesn’t know why though. Steve just takes it to mean that Eddie considers him part of his pack which is nice. He’ll admit (again only to himself) that he’s actually growing fond of the Alpha. He just wishes he wasn’t such a knothead.
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melancholyclover · 1 month ago
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he replied, i want to die
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There is nothing of you left in him. Hold him gently in your final moments, even if he still looks at you like you’re a stranger. His heart is more broken than he lets on. He has been cracked enough as it is, don’t you think? It is better to let him forget and never know of all the agony he has suffered.
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boundinparchment · 9 months ago
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Drown With the Sun (II/II)
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Il Dottore's segment took care of her pain in his absence, as was his duty; Karina, as his second-in-command, returned the gesture when the segments were gone. Part 2 of The Heretic and the Forsaken series. Il Dottore/Female Original Character. On AO3 here.
Years passed in the blink of an eye, as they often did for the man of four-plus-centuries.  A sense of time was not required for one such as himself, especially not in relevance to others.  The phenomena made itself known in every other facet outside of himself anyway.
Karina surpassed every challenge thrown at her, and if she didn’t, she worked day and night until she did.  She earned her title, her place, and the right to make snide remarks in private.  Time carved itself across her flesh in the form of lean muscle and faint scars.  
Every time she arrived back from patrols near the Rift, she seemed to bear a new one, and Dottore suppressed the urge to kiss it.
Volkov tended to her wounds, the Harbinger well knew.  The two of them were stationed together, bonded by their rank and mutual survival.  The idea of another seeing her bare back, her toned arms, or any other parts of her only ever stirred a disgusting sense of jealousy that wove its way into his Segment network for days.  
She was his subordinate, Dottore rationalized.  Nothing more.
Besides, the conversations with her regarding Celestia’s hypocrisy and the cruelty of the Archons were ideas echoed by Pantalone and others.  He was not starved for companionship, for conversation.  There were plenty among the Fatuus with which he could voice his heresy and ideas.
She was simply the optimal choice.
When she was gone, the Creature toddled into his workshop or his office, blanket in claw, downtrodden and lost.  He had a sense of object permanence (Dottore had long since tested that), so the only conclusion the scientist could make was one involving a sense of loss and an understanding of absence.
The thing was the rawest emotional form he had left, packed away by accident and left outside of the network to prevent further infighting.  The last of his innocence was nothing more than a bundle of fur and teeth and sharp claws.  It clung to one of the only other people who suffered a fate as cruel as his.  Ironic, that the creature lacking higher cognition was the one so obvious in its affection and care.  Even more so that its creator would never give in to the base needs of emotional attachment and physicality, of intimacy.
He did not need it, not with his Segments around; no one else knew his needs and his mind better.
His Warden (for as much as he despised her presence, Karina would always be his Fontainian bargaining chip, his chevalière) was once again away and the little monster made its nest beneath Dottore’s chair.  It scrambled up and settled into his lap hours ago, content to listen to its older self explain the formula he was working on.  Even if the creature couldn’t respond except for screeches and squeaks, the action helped loosen ideas and see where potential problems laid.
Dottore would not, could not , admit he preferred Karina for such a task.  Her eyebrows knitted, lips tugged into a slight pout as she thought things through, eyes as fresh as the Avidiya Forest after rainfall when she posed a counter argument or idea.  She was strategic enough to be handy on the front lines in Natlan if Capitano had use of her eventually.
That would seal her fate; few came back from Natlan in one piece.  
And he couldn’t account for plans that did not include her.  Perhaps once.  But not anymore.  At least not until he knew what led to her Vision behaving as it did. 
Or so he told himself every time the thought of her laugh snagged on his almost non-existent heart.
Dottore sat back in his chair, lifting the little creature with ease and rearranging it so he could shift his weight comfortably.  The formula was long forgotten now and if he tried to force it, he would only end up more irritated than he already was by the distraction of absence.
Omega was in Sumeru now, ideally finishing the nonsense with the Akademiya.  The final Segment insisted that the chevalière did not need to stay behind but Dottore wondered if, perhaps, such an arrangement would have been better.  
If only to see what she made of the lush lands of the forests and the wasteland of the desert and her opinion on the divide between Sumeru’s people.  For an Electro user, she had a strong sense of justice and for the short time they were back in his homeland, Dottore wondered if she would side with the institution or the people gate-kept from it.  After all, exposing her to the Shouki No Kami, to Scaramouche’s grand designs and the Electro Gnosis itself, played with the threads of her perspective and showed her the gods were neither remarkable nor permanent.  They could be created out of anything, as long as the faith of the majority was high enough.
She had been remarkably quiet on the return to Snezhnaya and he saw little of her since.  Instead of accompanying Omega, she was once again pushing back creatures from the Abyss and beyond.  Hardly stimulating work.
The matter of her Vision, on the other hand… that was far more intriguing.  Not even being near the Gnosis did anything.  In fact, Karina specifically seemed to avoid that section of the laboratory entirely during her stay once the demonstration was finished.  
She never explicitly told him why .  He had not thought it odd, not then, but he had been too focused on perfecting negotiations.  And soon it would be too late to recreate the situation, for Omega was due to retrieve both Gnoses…
Speaking of…
The connection between himself and all of his Segments was, more often than not, mere white noise.  Some days, the Segments were louder; during others, especially when it came to the pesky chevalière , silence reigned (but never for long).  The average experience was, however, like trying to find a station on a Fontainian radio and he had to truly think of the Segment to make the proper connection.
He could take over any Segment’s body at any time but it limited himself to that particular perspective.  Helpful when he needed to truly explore an idea through another lens.  But more useful when it came to observation, in which he could simply monitor without anyone else the wiser.
What a tiny Archon.  Even awake, she was nothing more than a bean sprout and she hardly had the power befitting her station.
Omega’s voice rattled through Dottore’s mind.  “I see. If you think all those versions of me are worth a Gnosis...then, we have a deal, Lesser Lord Kusanali.”
Deal?  What sort of arrangement had the Segment just made?  
The rest happened quicker than he expected and the connection exploded into a cacophony of noise and voices and panic.  Each of his Segments, scattered across all of Teyvat, were struck with the startling realization at once, and not even their Prime origin point was spared.
“Sheer foolishness,” Dottore thought, targeting every word at Omega, at that blasted Archon.  “How could I have been so shortsighted back then?”
Lesser Lord Kusanali disappeared from his vision with a few blinks, his office coming in and out of focus.  Eyelids heavy, the last sound he recalled was not, in fact, his youngest self, hot-headed and arrogant, swearing vengeance on Omega. Paws pressed against his chest and the world around him faded away in a haze of screeches, whines, and watery singular eye.
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Karina wove her way through the lower corridors until she came to the familiar workshop, divided into its different sections and projects.  Without parts of the Shouki No Kami lingering now, the space felt empty, devoid of life.  No doubt the floor would soon be home to numerous mechanical marvels and parts, as was the norm, but the prototypes were certainly remarkable.
She had yet to even see the usual Segment in the laboratory; usually he was around when she returned, staring at Volkov over an assistant’s shoulder.  It never bothered her colleague, or so he claimed, but she was never certain whether Dottore was sizing him up for battle or for dinner.  But he was nowhere to be found thus far.
Her footsteps echoed, unaccompanied by the usual sounds of activity down here.  Was he going to ambush her, remind her to keep on her toes?
He never did that on days she returned from the northern parts.  Karina dared not consider it a kindness but there was little else to describe it.  Perhaps he might call it inefficient.
“Lord Harbinger?” she called from the top of the staircase.  “Lord Dottore?”
She heard the familiar clung of metal on metal and her heart dropped into her stomach when she caught sight of a crop of teal hair.  He was working on something, as usual, some rectangular device she couldn’t make out from this angle.
Funny how comforting she found his presence, even in the form of a Segment.
“The rise time is too long…” she caught him muttering.  “If it can’t work quickly enough, it won’t reach bandwidth capacities…”
The Segment looked up from his notes when she came closer.  Any one of them never looked tired, despite the organic components used to make them.
“You were gone longer than usual,” he quipped, returning his gaze to the papers in front of him.  “Anything of note?”
“Not particularly,” Karina replied.  “We managed to capture a live Fenrir with specific mutations and corruption this time.  It should be making its way down within a few hours.”
“I see.  Prime doesn’t want to be disturbed so tend to the delivery and then see yourself out.”
He waved a hand at her, shooing her like a dog.  The Segment was acting strange, tapping a finger against the surface of the table as he stared at the notes; his eyes moved as though he was reading but he never once moved to act upon what he was reading.  Usually his focus was unparalleled, regardless of who was around.
“Get on it with, Omega, some of us have work to do,” he mumbled.
Oh, of course.  Omega was still in Sumeru.  The last she ever saw of him was an empty face plate, head tilted with a sharp-toothed grin as he said her services as a Warden were no longer required.
Out of all of the Segments, he was the most unsettling, in her opinion.  Too confident, too arrogant, five steps ahead of everyone while knowing exactly how to get what he wanted.  Her training kept her away from Omega to begin with and she did everything she could to avoid the last Segment while serving Dottore proper in Sumeru.  Something in the way he posed his questions, the way his gaze lingered on her, made Karina feel more like an object than a person, a rabbit in the jaws of a hungry wolf.  As if he did not want her so much as he wanted to root around inside her until he was bored.
There was an edge to Omega, one she balanced on before; one she was determined to never walk on again.
He must have been negotiating for the Gnoses, then.  Right on schedule.
The Segment before her gave up on the notes and began to meander around the table and sectioned-off workspace.  A gloved hand reached out and grasped her jaw, pulling Karina out of her thoughts and forcing her to look into eyes as deep as a blood moon.  His hand was cold compared to Dottore’s, lacking a proper circulatory system in the human sense, thumb brushing the corner of her bottom lip.
“If you insist on standing there, then, Alexandre, be useful and replace the pot of coffee from this morning.”
Karina watched as something foreign crossed the Segment’s features, his mouth parted and pupils narrowed, eyes blown wide.  He looked less shocked and more as if he had been blasted in the gut with a Fontainian blunderbuss at close range, completely paralyzed.  The fingers on her jaw flexed and gripped harder, pulling her down as the Segment’s joints gave out.  
She tried to grab onto him as he fell, muscles straining as she eased the limp mechanical body to the floor.  Was he short-circuiting?  She’d seen each Segment undergo maintenance more than once, fully aware they required upkeep, but they’d never simply collapsed…
Fear snaked its way through her muscles, freezing her in place as the Segment gave a half-hearted laugh.
“So it’s like this, huh?  You would betray even yourself. Good riddance!”
Crimson eyes glowed brighter for a moment, a final flare of life, before their color dimmed.  Ashes of a fire stamped out.
Karina’s head shot up, eyes scanning every visible area for movement.  No one ever made it down this far, save the now-dormant Segment, herself, and the true Dottore.  If the Segment was gone, her next concern was securing the area and finding the Harbinger himself.
She swallowed hard as she reached out a gauntleted hand and tried to close the Segment’s eyes.  His components complied much easier than a humans and if she didn’t know any better and ignored the lack of breathing (none of them needed air, after all), he simply looked like he was sleeping.  The stillness in the Segment’s limbs, the way its limp form responded to gravity and movement so easily, scratched at Karina’s memories; no resistance from muscles, no flexing or response to stimuli, just like the bodies of her comrades…like Rhiannon’s…
With a shaky breath, Karina shoved the Segment off of her and clamored to her feet.  This was different.  He was nothing more than an object, a thing , he felt no pain and suffered nothing in the end…
The layout of the workshop was rather straightforward despite its winding corridors.  One way in and one way out.  Karina made her way back to the elevator entrance and pulled the grate in front of the large doors and locked it in place; only someone with the proper clearance had a second key for the mechanism.  An easy security policy.  At least Dottore kept things simple in that regard.
Now for the man himself.
She tried to keep her eyes from lingering on the Segment as she drew her knife from her shoulder holster and held it close, stalking through the space.  From the furthest corner, she heard the clattering of a tray and its instruments, the sound echoing as loud as a gunshot.  Careful not to let her footfalls betray her, Karina arrived at the scene to find nothing but a metal instrument tray and various tools scattered on the floor, along with a bedsheet dangling off the vivisection table, stark white without a trace of blood.
An errant snapping of a jaw made Karina carefully duck to check under the table; tucked into the space between the table and a nearby cabinet, she could make out a single eye and a fluffy tail.
Before she could open her mouth, the blur of fur and teeth chattered and gave a high-pitched cry, diving for Karina.  She grunted at the impact, the creature nuzzling into her uniform, ears pulled down as it gave a series of smaller cries and whines.  Absently, she stroked the creature’s head, never quite lowering her knife.
What was the little creature doing down here?  More importantly, what was it doing down here unsupervised?
Usually it kept to Dottore’s office.  Or, if not there, it was always in the care of another or Dottore himself.  Like a child, this being was not to be trusted on its own in the laboratories (a lecture she received no less than three times when it was discovered the little thing clung to her so long ago).  If it was here , then…
“Where is the Doctor?” Karina asked when the little thing grew quiet.  “What happened?”
Her gaze met a singular eye, wide and wet and scared as the creature processed her words.  Its beak opened and then closed without a sound before it jumped from her lap and took her arm in its tiny claws.  It pulled with a surprising amount of force, chirping urgently when Karina didn’t move fast enough.  As soon as she rose to her feet, the creature dashed off on all fours and its fluffy tail disappeared around a corner.
There was only room in that direction to check.
And surely he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to be killed remotely.
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He wasn’t, of course, Karina mused as she pulled off her gloves and pressed a bare finger to Dottore’s pulsepoint.  Solid and steady.
Alive.  That might not mean much if he were comatose, admittedly, but he was breathing, at least.
The Harbinger didn’t so much as flinch or moan when the creature nudged his leg or climbed and slapped its paw against his cheek.  Dottore was face-down on the desk, his mask discarded, looking as though he’d done nothing more than fall asleep while working.
First things first, he needed to be moved.  She couldn’t access his desk and see what needed to be prioritized (if even possible) if he was slumped over all of the paperwork.  Who knew, maybe moving him would wake him up from the stupor and all would be solved.
Life was rarely, if ever, so easy.
Karina’s eyes roamed the office and settled on the piece of furniture nearest the desk.  A different sofa than the one she laid on (which had mysteriously been replaced several years prior), tufted leather with arms as tall as the back.  It would do.  
She reached and tucked one arm beneath Dottore’s and pulled him up and then away from the desk, his boots dragging on the floor.  His head lolled from one side to another as she slowly carried him across the room, his earring occasionally swaying to tap at her temple.  This close, she could make out the lingering scent of aftershave, a crisp mint that gave way to warm musk and sandalwood, reminiscent of the hotel in Sumeru.  Nothing like the Segments, who often smelled of disinfectant and the persistent iron tang of blood.
Karina arranged him on the couch as best she could; unlike the last couch, it was long enough to consider his full height.  With help from the creature, she made quick work of his boots and placed them aside.  
Her eyes fell on his face, entirely unveiled now.  His jaw was just like Omega’s but his mask had hidden an aquiline nose, dark circles under his eyes, and a brow forever pinched in thought.  She could imagine how, if he were awake, his nostrils might flare and his eyes would narrow in indignation.  The Segments were, of course, still him and some manners never changed.  If he smiled more, Karina considered he might even be handsome in the right light.
She scoffed, gut immediately churning with guilt at seeing him like this.  A Harbinger’s visage, especially that of the top three, was their own private knowledge.  They were no longer the people they saw in the mirror but someone else, some thing else, entirely.  
And even she, with all of her work and her rank, was not worthy of that visual knowledge.
Karina tore her gaze from the Harbinger and retrieved his mask, clipping it into place over his eyes and forehead with ease.  There.  Perfect.
The creature tucked its creator in, little paws pressing a newly found blanket between the man’s biceps and the couch.  The chevalière watched as it paused and sat near Dottore’s feet, eye fixed on the sleeping Harbinger as it kicked its hind legs back and forth.  She didn’t count the minutes but when it finally hopped down, it immediately patted her boot and raised its arms, a silent plea to be carried.
Karina picked up the fluffy companion and sifted through Dottore’s desk with a single hand.  She left the office with her arms full of fur and papers, uncertain of all but the sleepless night ahead.
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Her first note out of the laboratory had been not to the Jester but the Regrator, specifically through Volkov.  No one would question the correspondence chain and Volkov was being considered by Lord Pantalone as a potential Warden candidate.  Discretion was guaranteed.
She would deal with the Jester (and the Tsaritsa) at a later date.
The Fenris was handed off to the upper levels, contained and sedated.  Nothing the staff up there couldn’t handle.
Pantalone controlled the funding and if he wasn’t going to get results, he needed to be aware of the change in schedules.  Plus, he was familiar with Dottore’s handwriting; Karina could only look at the chicken scratch for so long before her eyes stung.  
Omega was in possession of two Gnoses, according to recent reports; Pantalone only mentioned that the Segment exchanged something of substantial value for both of them.
“One of them said something about a betrayal,” Karina said as she massaged water and broth down Dottore’s throat.  “Perhaps Omega offered up the Segments as collateral.  It would cripple the opposition and buy time without a true loss of life.  Archons never want to be responsible for the death of a human, no matter their moral standing.”
With a smirk as she cradled Dottore’s head just right, the Regrator agreed; after all, doing so would keep Lesser Lord Kusanali’s hands clean, too.  
When she wasn’t taking care of the Harbinger directly, she was making decisions about things she knew nothing about.  The written goals and hypotheses were not as clear as they initially seemed and it grew more difficult to ascertain priorities.  Not to mention the growing pile of Segments, the youngest of which was where the creature was now resting.
Her heart ached, reminded of when Rhiannon crawled into bed with her when she couldn’t sleep.  If she looked too closely, Karina felt sticky blood on her fingers and strong hands around her arms, prying her away from her sister’s lifeless body.
Did the little thing feel the agony of loneliness clawing from the inside out?  The fear, the fury?
When she admitted to Pantalone that it was almost impossible to keep the various projects Dottore gave his Segments straight, let alone what to do with the bodies, the banker gave a barking laugh of amusement.
“I know what I might do,” Pantalone drawled, golden eyes boring into her, “but this is your job.  No one else is as close to a Harbinger as their Warden.  It is your duty to consider what must be done and why.  After all, you’re meant to be an asset , Alexandre.”
Spoken as if she were nothing more than a number on a spreadsheet.
“Contrary to how he presents it, you would have been reassigned if he did not trust you,” the Ninth said.  “He never had a Warden previously.  Your presence will no doubt lend itself to a new perspective for him.”
He parted not long after for another meeting, a sickeningly kind smile on his lips.  Happy, no doubt, that he did not have to deal with Dottore’s condition and merely the fallout left behind.
Bastard.  
Both of them, bastards.
Without them, she wouldn’t even be alive now to be in this position.  Would it be better to be chained to a bed in Fontaine?  To have been killed with the rest of her family?
Dottore would laugh at her if he knew the thoughts running through her head.
Hadn’t training taught her anything?  Did her second chance mean nothing to her?  She accomplished enough to be promising by Fatui standards and yet she would squander it by wishing she were dead?
Wasteful, he would call her.  It was better to be alive, to know that the past didn’t matter, that it was only the here and now and the floor beneath one’s feet.
He was surprisingly grounded for a man who split himself into several branches.  Even if he was absolutely determined to find out the root cause of her Vision’s lack of power, even if he saw her as nothing more than a puzzle to solve.
At least he saw her and all she encompassed.
To the point that he neutralized the primordial water in her blood and turned her human.  How had no one in Fontaine realized that before?  Water as blood had been a metaphor but to think it held some truth…
Those files she read would no doubt be burned when he woke.
She scoffed as she settled back into her makeshift workstation and ran through what she knew.  The creature immediately returned to her lap, nestled close as it gave a sound close to a pur.
Dottore would want to part out the Segments.  They were expensive and difficult to make, full of dream solvent and something called primordial water, along with branches of Irminsul.  All of those could be repurposed in one way or another and Dottore hated nothing more than having to scout for or purchase parts.  
They were inorganic, which meant no concern for decomposition.  She could set up an area in the back and organize the branches; at least they’ll be out of the way and away from prying eyes.  
Most of them completed their major testing with a few exceptions for weaponry…next patrol left later this week under her charge…
She and Volkov could do the weapons testing.  The north would prove a good baseline and he at least understood instructions both verbal and written; whatever she couldn’t make sense of, he could.
Perfect.  The Segments could be rearranged in the morning and that gave her time to obtain the weapons and the rest of the details from other staff members.  She scribbled down the plans, complete with checklists and individuals involved, finally satisfied the issues were no longer intangible sensations in her brain.
Karina looked down at the creature, now curled up and fast asleep.  How easily he drifted off.  An enviable position from where she was sitting (and she was, now, stuck sitting; he slept too lightly for her to move him).  
She shifted down in the seat slightly and leaned back to put her feet on the desk, curling up a little in the seat.  Karina wrapped her arms around her new companion and held it close, her eyes and mind finally giving into the exhaustion of the last few days.  A little rest would not go amiss.
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Dottore jolted awake, a strange weight on his neck and chest as his head throbbed.  His mouth tasted disgusting and felt like someone shoved a wade of cotton into his mouth to chew.  No, worse still, as if he was being asked to swallow a hairball.  
Hazily, he reached up and found a bulking mass on his face.  What the hell was this?
The Harbinger grabbed it and pulled it away from his face, instantly relieved as he spit out stray hairs and fibers.  The thing he held gave a series of sleepy protesting squeaks and when his vision settled again, Dottore came mask-to-eye with the single creature still alive after Omega’s destruction.
The fox-raven hybrid held out its tiny arms in victory, tail wagging at the realization its creator was awake.
Awake…that meant he’d been sleeping…no, that wasn’t quite sleep, was it?  It was too dark, too empty, too silent.  He might have brushed fingers with death once again in his extended lifetime.  It came close several times as a child, first with stones and then with swords and torches; by the time the desert itself tried to kill him, he was far too spiteful to die.
How long had he been…
Dottore released the creature’s scruff and it plopped back down into his lap.  The excitement died away, replaced with a need to make certain all was as it should be.  As the monster tapped its paws across his torso and arms, the Harbinger looked around and took stock of his surroundings.
His office.  Someone moved him from the chair and onto the couch, even went so far as to remove his shoes.  His mask felt slightly out of place and absently, he reached up and clicked it home, the screen beneath it flickering to life and displaying what he already knew.  All Segment vitals were zero’d out, signals dead, and the Segments themselves were unreachable.  He’d taken this off when he was last awake, he was certain.
It looked cleaner but maybe that was simply the dim light playing tricks on him.  The desk was void of papers and the table beside the couch had a pile of bowls and a cluster of glasses.  Neat and tidy but the remnants of one’s actions left behind?  By mere accident or did they want him to know they’d cared for him.
Cared for him.
Who the hell would care for a wretch like him?
It wasn’t as if the world did.
A paw tapped his cheek, sharp claws scratching his skin.  The Doctor looked down and found the creature looking at him, or trying to, eye narrowed.
“I’m fine,” Dottore said, voice hoarse.  “Nothing that can’t be rebuilt.  Omega is inherently selfish; you’re stuck with me from now on.”
A squeak that sounded like a human’s “nuh-uh” was the only reply he received before the fluffy tormentor climbed down and slowly made its way towards the door, left ajar.  When the Harbinger didn’t follow, it rolled its eye and waved its arms, beckoning him on.
“Alright, alright, fine.  Go on ahead.”
With his Segments gone, everything was bound to be close to shambles.  Even if Omega was successful, cutting off all of the Segments and silencing them was akin to cutting out his own eyes and chopping off an arm for good measure.  They weren’t just perspectives to use to examine problems; they were individuals, all of whom were good at what they did and furthered his work a hundred fold every year.  Culling them was tantamount to treason, depending on the Tsaritsa’s mood.
Even two Gnoses wouldn’t make up for the backlog of work and delays he would be facing.  
Dottore grimaced as his head pounded again.  He didn’t need this, any of this, and Omega had to go and throw everything back at him, naturally.  Anger initially flared deep in his stomach but it gave way to tasteless irony.  He’d been selfish at that age and perspective, focused only on what would bring him the most progress or further his understanding of the world.  
The Archon’s plan would not have worked if any other Segment had been sent, the clever sprout.  
Without them, he had a mountain of work ahead of him.
On the other hand, however, he’d gained an abundance of knowledge from all of their experiences.  His head swam with memories that were his but not, words and theories and concepts all at the ready, even if he never managed to be the one to gather them.
Amid all of them, a single memory of startled green eyes, a pang of fear.  
Surely he had not been so fortuitous?
The Second shoved his feet into his boots, pondering the expression as he buckled the fastenings.  Fear and uncertainty were friends to no one except those that knew how to use them but they were ugly on her; he lacked any other descriptors for it.  He usually relished in one’s terror, their instincts kicking in to debase oneself to their purest human form.  Yet now, that churn of fury returned, aimed at Omega not for his usurpation but the blast radius of it.
Why?
What did the chevalière even matter?
She was nothing but another face, doomed to expire before he would.  His Warden would die on the battlefield, or in servitude, probably in the next decade if she were lucky.
The Doctor stood, stretching only enough to rid his limbs of the lingering stiffness, and made his way out towards the workshop proper.
One day, the walls around him would not volley her laughs and quips around as they did today.  Dottore’s gaze settled on the chevalière , weary but no less dedicated, and his mouth went dry as he took in her visage.  The Creature was poised over her shoulders, more cat than anything; it appeared to nod before its attention shattered and it nuzzled closer to her.
Two cups on the table, steaming.  Already prepared, as always.
Without the Segments, it would be quieter in Haeresys, and her presence was…not unwelcome.  
He was no stranger to loss but the idea of being alone …
No.  Not before he had his answers and before he could give them to her.  She deserved that much.
She spared no details as she explained her plans, the breakdown of what he’d missed, where everything was organized.  Thorough, succinct, fairly logical; he knew her thought patterns well enough to work around her structure, if need be.
“Twelve Segments were brought back but I’m not certain that’s all of them.  Excluding Omega, naturally.  He should arrive tomorrow, based on the last raven received.”
Omega, Omega, Omega…whatever to do with him now that he outlived his usefulness?
Weapon testing would be finalized this week out in the wasteland of the north, specifically by both Wardens.  Not the ideal environment, especially given he would likely not be there to observe.  He would prefer to, of course, but…
She was only staying until he woke up, precisely with the intent to finish testing and provide details as soon as possible.  
“Unless your orders are different, Lord Harbinger?”
How he longed to hear her call him something else.  Anything else.  How would those two syllables of his, known only to himself and Omega, roll off her tongue?  Would she say it with disdain, perhaps, for all he did to her?  Or was that too much effort, too much to give him?
“No.  Your plan is sound, chevalière .”
Karina straightened and scooped the creature off of her shoulders.  Her lips quirked into a small comforting smile when the tell-tale cry of disappointment reached her, and she gave a habitual rub to its head.  Dottore’s heart seemed to misinterpret that he was not, in fact, dying, for it skipped a beat and then tried to make up for it, beating twice.
“Back before you know it, mon petit.  Don’t be so glum.”
The creature only seemed to sink into its disappointment further.  It used its one eye to boldly plead for her to stay, shameless in what it wanted.  
Shameless or simply direct?  Dottore couldn’t tell.  It knew nothing of the former and even less about being obtuse.
If he had blinked, he would have missed how she bent down and pecked the top of the creature’s head.  That cheered it up considerably and when she locked eyes with him again, Karina bowed.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going, sir.  The sleds leave at daybreak and I need to pack.”
Dottore nodded, turning his head away to assess the change in the workspace.  His ears felt hot now, too.  Seeing her be kind to the creature, to him , dredged up a tangled assortment of ideas, several of which involved genetics as his curious thoughts strayed if his red eyes were a dominant or recessive gene.
He had plenty of work ahead of him in just scraping the Segments, let alone being debriefed by others and examining the large corrupted wolf waiting for him upstairs.  
Karina turned and began to make her way out of the workshop when Dottore found his mouth opening of its own accord.
“Warden?”
He swore his ears burned hotter still just looking at her.  Ridiculous.  He might have helped her find her place here, potentially, and be the reason she was even still alive to begin with, but that didn’t mean she had to repay him.  No one held debts over him in that fashion.  Pantalone was an exception, of course, but Dottore wasn’t in the habit of equivalent exchange.
He didn’t understand this, the draw to her, the way he ached at the prospect of her being gone.  Even temporarily.
Dottore smiled, wide and sharp and playful.
“Come back in one piece, won’t you?” 
She smirked, and he could only assume by the shake of her head that she scoffed.  Karina broke her gaze away first, her eyes settling on a pile of parts before she looked at him again dead-on.
“As if I’d do anything else, Lord Harbinger.”
This time, he let her go, exhaling only when he heard the elevator grind shut and begin its ascent.  Dottore reached up and unclipped his mask, tossing it onto the table and leaning onto his palms.  
He looked up when he noticed movement; the creature stood proudly on its hind legs, eye narrowed in pride as it wagged its tail.  It gave a little chirp, reminiscent of a teasing whistle.  
Dottore glared.  “Oh, shut it, won’t you?”
She would be the death of him, that much was certain.  If Omega couldn’t kill him, Karina might.
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aziraphales-library · 9 months ago
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How about fics featuring denial of their love? Or that explore specifically Aziraphale's denial.
You can check our #denial of feelings and #not actually unrequited love tags for fics like this. Here are some more to add to the collection...
What friends are for by Melime (T)
Back in his shop after evading Furfur, Aziraphale starts to wonder about Crowley's new name, and almost comes to a realisation.
But The Smoke Clears When You're Around by midnightdragons (T)
“Mhm,” Crowley mumbled, before closing his eyes, curling back up around Aziraphale, and promptly falling back to sleep, one hand hooked loosely around the angel’s middle, his face pressed into his chest. Aziraphale looked down at him, his heart seizing in his chest, and gently hugged him close. “You are silly, my sweet boy,” he whispered breathlessly, sparing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead. “And I . . .” Love you, he wanted to say. Wanted so badly to say it, to reveal it to the world, if only for a single moment. After the Armageddon that wasn't, Crowley can't rid himself of the trauma caused by a certain event, and shields himself with defensive anger and a mask of irritation. Aziraphale convinces him that it's okay to rest and recover. (Alternatively: purely sleepy intimacy, comfort, and fluff, accompanied by the lingering scent of smoke in a bookshop.)
Everything by IneffableDoll (G)
“Oh angel, I’d wait to the end of the world.” Two love confessions, two thousand years apart. Denial is a heck of a thing.
reply to my tenderness by losttrackofmysoul (T)
In the beginning, there had been Crowley, Aziraphale and the Garden containing the start of human kind. A couple centuries later, the red string of fate appeared and things got easier for humans and vastly more complicated for a certain angel, specially when he discovers his own string, which shouldn't exist in the first place, is tied to the demon he's known for 6000 years.
Nothing Else Matters by EdosianOrchids901 (T)
When two angry Archangels drop by the shop, Aziraphale pleads with Crowley not to intervene. After surviving a harsh punishment, can Aziraphale be honest about why Crowley’s safety is so important to him? And can Crowley work though his guilt for not protecting Aziraphale?
Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)
Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did. "We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly. "I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley... "I could never love you."
- Mod D
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dailysonadowfanfics · 2 months ago
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Reading every single Sonadow Fanfic (Ao3): 260/4.772
Title: Just Say It Shadow
Author: Codeluluchan
Website: Ao3
Published: 13.09.2019
Word Count: 943 words
Language: English
Suited for minors? Yes
Warnings: No
Smut? No
Finished? Yes
Characters: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog, Rouge the Bat
Ships: Sonic/Shadow
Author Tags: Songfic, Hercules (1997) References, Denial of Feelings
Author Summary: Rouge just wants Shadow to let himself be happy, Shadow just wanted a drink, and why is everyone singing?
My summary: Song fic based on that Disney Hercules movie. Shadow doesn't want to admit his feelings for Sonic.
You can read it here
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keldae · 5 months ago
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Commentary
Summary: Everyone else in the party can see Gale and Devi pining over each other, and they're this close to locking both wizard and thief in a closet until they figure it out.
Munching on a piece of bread, Karlach considered the camp, and her new companions. She'd seen some weird shit in Avernus, but it all paled in comparison to what she and the others were going through now. Still, she was away from Zariel, and free for now, and the Blade of Frontiers (Wyll, as he'd insisted on being addressed) had been convinced to let her live. And there were wildflowers here that she could pick and smell on a whim!
Tadpole notwithstanding, this was a vast upgrade from Avernus.
She sat back, watching her companions. Shadowheart and Lae’zel had claimed spots on opposite sides of the fire, where they could malevolently watch each other. Astarion was sipping from a bottle of wine, probably wishing it was blood. Wyll had finished his dinner, and was eyeing the length of his rapier, probably seeing if the blade needed any maintenance. And Devi and Gale were sitting nearby; Gale was seemingly trying to explain a concept of magic to Devi, who was blinking the blink of someone who absolutely didn't understand a single word she was hearing, but was trying to be polite about it.
Karlach hadn't had many opportunities to observe other people outside of combat in the last decade. But she was pretty sure that there was something between the half-Elf kleptomaniac and the wizard. It was an unusual match – a powerful archmage with an uneducated thief, and she was pretty sure there was a decent age gap between the pair. But Karlach did think it was cute. 
She looked up as Astarion flopped inelegantly onto the log beside her, gesturing with his bottle of wine to where the resident thief and wizard were sitting. “Ugh. Just look at them,” he muttered. “It’s nauseating.”
“I think it’s kinda cute,” Karlach responded with a grin, munching on her piece of bread. “You know what they say about opposites attracting, yeah?”
Astarion snorted. “Except these two opposites are both idiots. I don't think she's realised he's pining over her.”
Karlach contemplatively chewed on her bread. “And I don't think he's realised she's checking him out,” she commented, her mouth still full. “Wanna bet that's why she's still listening to the lecture he's giving?”
Read the rest on AO3!
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