#he had blue eyes before & his other eye is now like 3/4 green 1/4 light brown. but i always make it flouresced and orange/pink

[artgletic]

PREVVVVVV THANK YOUUUUU i drew another for you ( :

so theres this embodiment of deception...

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - Chapter 6 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The Lion's Lamb Series: Aesthetics, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.7, Ch.8

The couple had finally arrived at the location Max had planned for their date.

They had pulled up at the marina, surrounded by multiple huge yachts that you could only dream about ever owning.

A drown slowly took over your face as the man in front of her opened the door that led down to the boats.

"Where are we going?" You voiced your thoughts.

The blue eyed man just smirked at you but didn't answer as he continued to pull you down the dock until they finally stopped in front of one.

Max had helped the young woman onto the boat before walking over to a man standing by the boats main entrance.

The unknown man was attractive. That's obvious. He had to be around your age or Max's, brown hair and green eyes.

The two shared some words before the unknown man smirked at Max before handing home something.

"Have a lovely evening," the man smiled at the pair before getting off the boat and making his way towards the dock exit.

"That was my friend Charles," max said with a slight sigh as you looked on in confusion on what just happened, " he's letting us borrow his boat for the night."

Charles Leclerc, the formula one driver for Ferrari, had been more than happy to let his friend borrow his boat. Specifically after finding out it was for a date.

The Montesquieu had known the Dutch driver since they were children, and like many close to him, had noticed a change in his friends behavior recently.

He knew, like Daniel, that someone, a woman, had cause this. His suspicions were confirmed when he had asked the Ferrari driver to use his boat and Charles wouldn't let him until Max told his what exactly for.

The world champion was reluctant to mention his little lamb, but the Montesquieu wouldn't hand over his keys until the Redbull driver finally caved.

The small mention of his date to Charles was all it took and he immediately regretted saying anything after seeing the stupid grin on his friend's face.

He had wanted to keep you a secret. To keep you to himself for just a little bit longer.

Now two people know about you and now, one of them knows what you look like.

The couple had walked out onto the front deck, where the Dutchman had arranged a single table for the two.

The table was draped with a white cloth, simply decorated with a small bouquet of red roses. The candle was surrounded by candles, and fairy lights softly illuminated the boat deck, creating a romantic aura.

"You did this?" you asked, wide eyed and mouth open.

No one has ever gone to this length for you. Usually, the men you saw back at home would take you on a cheap date in hopes it was enough to get into your pants.

Max wasn't that type of man. While they had only known each other for a short period of time, you knew in your heart that he was one of the good ones.

"I did have some help," made said shyly, never having done anything like this for someone before.

For most of his adult life, woman had just thrown themselves at him, wanting the fame and fortune that came along with being attached to his name.

He had also never truly been interested in anyone before. Besides the occasional one night stands, no one had ever been able to divert his attention from racing. Until now.

The couple had taken their seats at the table, your smile never once leaving your face. Just by looking at how happy the simplest thing, like a romantic dinner, made you, caused the Dutchman to feel a mix of happiness and sadness.

In that moment he realized that no one had treated the beautiful girl in front of him the way you truly deserved to be treated.

"No one's ever done anything like this for me before," you shyly looked at the handsome blue eyes man.

"You should always be treated this way," max leaned slightly across the table between them, caressing your cheek softly.

Looking down, trying to hide the blush that had erupted across your face.

"how was your work trip?" you quickly changed the topic.

Max leaned back in his chair, happy with the yours resorting towards him

"It was almost perfect," he said.

"Almost?"

"I was missing something?"

"What?"

"You."

You giggled at his words, thinking it was just a line he says to all the girls. Little did you know, he had never said those words before, let alone truly meant them.

"Where were you this time?" You again changed the subject.

"Saudi Arabia," he states before leaning onto the table, speaking quickly before you have time to divert the conversation again, "why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Brush off the compliments I give you."

"Because," you paused, scrambling to find the words, "why focus on words that are only words. Usually there is no meaning behind them, they're just words."

Max quickly gets up and walks around to your side of the table, kneeling down in front of you, gently taking your face in his hand.

"Every word I say is nothing less than the truth. You may not know me well, but if there's one thing I'm not, it's a liar.

I want it to be clear that every word I say is full of meaning," his deep state into, what felt like her soul, told you everything you needed to know.

The intense and truthful look in his eyes had your mouth open and eyes starting to water.

You never had anyone look at you the way he was looking at you now. Pure admiration, affection, and dare you say it, love.

You didn't have any words to say. You had been left completely speechless and in a split decision, You leaned forward and kissed him.

Max was taken off guard, not truly expecting the beautiful girl to make the first move.

He quickly recovered, responding to the kiss, pulling you closer to his body. You brought your hand up to his shirt, bringing him as close as possible, deepening the kiss.

The American girl had always dreamt about having your own movie scene kiss. The type of kiss you read about in books that caused butterflies to ignite in your stomach. But this was reality.

Fireworks

That's what you felt. Your entire body erupted in tiny fireworks like tingle. You couldn't help but think that in that moment, reality was so much better than any book or movie.

Max wanted to hold you in his arms forever and to never let go. He felt, in that moment, if he lost everything, he wouldn't care.

His fame, the money, his seat, he could lose it all and still be a winner if he could only have you in his arms for the rest of his life.

If he died right then, he'd die a happy man.

The two broke away, but kept their foreheads together as they continued to catch their breath.

They stayed in this position for a while, just enjoying being in each other presence before Max finally interrupted.

With a quick kiss to your forehead he pulled away saying, "let's eat."

Dinner wasn't awkward after the kiss, if anything, they felt closer than ever before. The entire night they because more touchy with each other.

They were expressing their emotions and feelings openly, something the driver had never done before. With you, it felt natural, that he could finally be himself without judgement.

Max had dropped the girl off back at home, but not before giving you a loving and long goodnight with a promise to talk to you tomorrow.

The Dutchman couldn't keep the smile off his face, replaying the kiss over and over in his head.

As he opened his apartment door, he was instantly ready to go to bed so he could see you, once more the next day.

"Well, look who's finally home," Max sighed, resting his head against the now closed front door at the sound of the familiar voice in his home, "where have you been? It's way past your bed time!"

The Dutchman turned around to see, not only Daniel Ricciardo with a devious grin on his face, but also Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris sitting in his apartment.

"I knew I shouldn't have given you a key," Max muttered to himself about the Aussie, "why are you guys here?"

"Imagine my surprise when little Charles," said man shot the Aussie a glare at exposing him, "called to tell me that you, young Maxine, asked to use his yacht for a date. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

Sighing, Max took a seat on one of his living room chairs, "because you would behave exactly like this."

"I'm more hurt that you didn't tell me."

"Luckily you had Charles who can't keep his mouth shut to tell you," the Ferrari driver help up his hands in defense at the Dutchman's glare.

"It's not my fault you're so secretive about this girl," Charles says, "the secrecy about this mystery girl makes us all curious."

"And you?" Max says, looking at the youngest driver in the room, "What's your excuse?"

"I'm just nosey," Lando states with a huge grin while shrugging.

Max's frustration with his friends was interrupted by a text from you in question at the moment.

You: Did you make it home safe?

Max: yes

You: Are you okay? You're being a bit short with me.

Max: I'm currently being interrogated by my friends about you.

You: I didn't realize you kept me a secret.

Max: I wanted to keep you to myself as long as possible little lamb.

He couldn't help but smirk at the 3 dots appearing they quickly disappearing on the screen.

"That!" Daniel yelled, catching the blondes attention again, "that right there is the reason why I want to meet this girl! In the short time you've known her, she's made you smile more than I've ever seen in the years I was your teammate."

"Why are you hiding her?" Charles eyebrows furrowed at his own question, "she's absolutely stunning, so you can't be ashamed of her. She always seems to be a sweet, intelligent girl."

"She doesn't know who I am," Max mumbles out.

"How?" Lando asked with wide eyes.

"She just doesn't. She's from the U.S. and you know how F1 handy really reached them well," everyone nodded in slight understanding.

"But why hide her? Why not tell her?" Charles asks.

"Because I've gotten so much shit these past few months after winning the World Championship. People have dictated shit about me without actually knowing me. I want her to get to know me as Max, not Max Verstappen, the newest f1 World Champion."

It was quiet for a second, all the drivers understand how he felt. The silence didn't last too long because the McLaren driver couldn't stand the awkward silence or the seriousness of the conversation.

"So what does she think you do for work?" Lando asked

Max chucked before saying, "she thinks I work for a car company which makes me travel to get investors."

"Shit, you didn't necessarily lie mate," Daniel said, "my issue here now is that you said I'd be the first one to meet her and the fucker Charles met her before me! This is so unfair!"

Taglist: @shelbyteller, @smithieandy, @fangirlforever2000, @herexpertcollector, @vip-access, @genevieve-blr

[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time pt. 4 (LN)

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5

@seasonswinter @drdbnkl2008 @jaematthews15

angst at the end i apologize 🥵

Y/N: so what's the dress code for tonight?

Lily: I would say cocktail attire but not super fancy, they usually pick somewhere nice?

Y/n: how many people are going to be there? i'm stressed

Lily: honestly a lot lol, it's like everyone with McLaren plus friends. but on the plus side it means we fly under the radar.

Y/n: yeah but we will be with the most important people

Lily: true

You sighed throwing your phone across your bed. You still had a couple of hours before Lando was coming to pick you up but you felt a strong urge to start getting ready now.

You headed into your bathroom to take an everything shower singing along to your karaoke playlist. You threw your hair up into a towel and started the painful process of picking something out to wear.

Y/n: what are you wearing? Lando: nothing, want to see?

y/n: 🙄 my eyes would bleed

Lando: you wound me. but i'm just wearing a button down and slacks. nothing crazy

After looking through a couple of options, you settled for a fitted green knitted dress you hadn't yet worn.

Twirling in the mirror, you liked the way it hit your curves. You spent the next hour curling your hair and applying a sort of natural glam look. The next thing you knew Lando was texting you that he was here. You grabbed your purse and touched up your hair one last time before heading down to your apartment lobby.

You reached the lobby and saw Lando standing by the front doors, hands in his pockets looking around. His attention fell on you as you walked closer and you smirked as he shamelessly checked you out. You did the same to him, appreciating the way his light blue botton down was tight on his biceps and across his chest.

"Hi," you said stopping in front of him. "Hi," he replied softly. He moved closer to you, kissing your cheek lightly while resting his hands on your waist. "You look gorgeous."

You smiled, pulling back but intertwining your fingers through his.

"Ready?" You asked and he nodded, pulling you out the door and towards his car. He opened the door for you before sliding in the drivers seat. The car ride was silent and half way through you felt Lando's hand rest gently on your thigh, his thumb caressing your skin gently. The ride was short and you soon were pulling up to the restaurant, Lando tossing the keys to the valet. He rested his hand on your lower back as he guided you out to the patio that was rented for the team.

You spotted Lily and Oscar as you came in and made your way over to them, ditching Lando to talk with some other people who had stopped him. Lily scooted over on the bench and you sunk down next to her.

"You look great," she said and you smiled.

"You do too," you replied. You flagged down the waiter to order a glass of wine and watched as Lando mingled.

"You're staring," Lily teased and you blushed.

"just observing," you hummed.

"So y/n, what is it that you do for Monster again?" Oscar asked.

"I sit on the marketing team but specifically I work with partners," you said.

"So you work with McLaren?" He asked and you shook your head.

"We all have different territories that we are in charge of," you explained. I have the west coast so all I work with anyone partnered with Monster there. It's a lot of planning partner events and campaigns."

He asked you a little more about your job and you were happy to indulge him. You loved what you did, getting to work for a cool brand had been something you had always wanted to do. Someone had overheard you talking to Oscar and introduced themselves as one of the PR managers so you soon found yourself mingling with the McLaren marketing team.

"You know, we've been trying to get someone from Monster at more races," one of the marketing managers told you.

"Yeah, it's hard because our team is based here and travel is expensive," you said. "I know the girls who have most of Europe as their territory but they don't get to travel much."

"You guys need to just have someone living overseas," she replied and you nodded.

"Probably," you agreed. "Just need the budget."

A little later you were back next to Lily, the two of you hiding in the corner done talking with people.

"Can we sneak out of here," you begged and Lily sighed.

"Oscar will kill me," she said and you gave her a look. "Okay let's go."

You briefly scanned the patio, seeing Oscar and Lando caught up in a conversation and made your way back through the front and onto the street.

"Where should we go?" Lily asked and you started pulling her along the sidewalk.

"There's actually a great rooftop bar on the hotel you guys are staying at," you said knowing the hotel was only a couple of blocks away. Lily used her key to get you in and you made your way up to the bar. It wasn't too crowded and you saw some familiar faces.

"What's up McLaren ladies?" Daniel yelled causing the people with him to turn and look at you. You greeted him and Max before ordering a drink from the bar.

"I don't think we've met yet, Lando is hiding you," a strong Spanish accent said from next to you. "I'm Carlos."

"Y/n," you introduced. You could see why Lando wouldn't introduce the two of you. This man was very easy on the eyes. "Want to make Lando mad?" His eyes lit up mischievously.

"Always," he said and you held up your phone to take a selfie. He wrapped his arm around you and you were pleased with how intimate the picture turned out and put it on your Instagram story.

You chatted with Carlos for about ten minutes before you heard Daniel loudly greeting someone else. You turned to see that Lando and Oscar had just gotten here. Oscar looked amused while Lando did not look happy. His eyes met yours and you smirked turning back to Carlos.

Within 30 seconds you felt two arms encircle your waist and were pulled back against a hard chest.

"I see you've met Carlos," Lando said tightly which made Carlos laugh out loud.

"Yeah I was just telling y/n how pretty she is and that we should run off into the sunset together," Carlos deadpanned. You felt Lando's arms tighten around you and you sighed shifting to turn to him, bringing your arms around his neck.

"You are being so dramatic," you said and he pouted.

"You left me," he whined and you shrugged.

"We were bored, plus I knew you'd find us," you told him. "Can we sit?"

You found a couch by a firepit and sat down, leaning down to take your shoes off. Lando sat next to you, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind you. You were soon joined by Lily, Oscar, and Max.

You all talked for a while and by the end of the night you had your head rested on Lando's shoulder and legs thrown over his.

"Are you tired?" He mumbled in your ear and you nodded sleepily. "Why don't you just stay with me tonight?"

"Lando..." you said and he moved your chin to look up at him.

"Just to sleep, nothing else," he said.

"No funny business," you said and he smiled triumphantly. You bid goodnight to everyone before following him out of the bar.

"Are you coming to the track tomorrow for quali?" He asked while you were waiting in the elevator and you shook your head.

"No, I have a ton of things to do and errands to run," you replied and his face fell. "I'll be there Sunday though, I promise."

He nodded and the rest of the ride was silent. He grabbed your hand to pull you off on his floor and you made your way to his room.

"Need something to wear?" He asked and you nodded. He pulled out one of his long sleeve McLaren shirts for you and you headed into the bathroom to change.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a while wondering what the fuck you were doing. You had told yourself to not get swept up in this fake reality but here you were. When you stepped back in the room you saw Lando laying on the bed, head propped up watching tv. He patted the spot next to him and you slid into the bed, resting your head on his chest. His arm tightened around you and it was a while before you spoke.

"I shouldn't be here," you said and he looked down at you.

"Why's that?" He asked and you looked away.

"You're going to leave after Sunday," you said and he sighed.

"That's two days away," he said ending the conversation. You sighed into his chest and started to feel your eyes droop. The last thing you remember was him kissing your head and mumbling "sweet dreams baby."

-------------------------

Two days later you were still reeling from waking up next to Lando on Saturday morning. The two of you didn't really say much and he drove you back to your apartment, squeezing your thigh as a goodbye before you got out of the car.

Today you were headed back to the track for the race wearing a casual short black dress paired with a McLaren hat. You were happy to see Lily standing in the garage waiting for you.

"Hi friend," you greeted pulling her into a hug which she returned.

'Hi, ready for the race?" She asked and you nodded. You had arrived a little later so didn't get to see Lando before the race which was what you were hoping for. The two of you walked over to sit down.

"I'm so sad you're leaving tomorrow," you told Lily and she squeezed your hand.

"Me too, but we must facetime weekly and you're coming to Vegas, no excuses," she said.

The race went by quickly with Lando ending in second and you celebrated with the team while he was on podium. He had texted you to wait up so you lingered in the garage chatting with some of the marketing girlies. You said goodbye to them as you saw Lando coming out of his driver's room and jogged over throwing your arms over him.

"You did great," you whispered in his ear and his arms tightened around you.

"Well I had my good luck charm with me," he said and you laughed. "Can we get dinner before heading out tonight?"

"I didn't know I was going out tonight," you said and he gave you a look. "Yeah, I just need to change first, is that what you're wearing?" He had changed into a plain white tshirt and black jeans.

"Yeah," he said giving you a twirl. "Is it up to your standards?"

You laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him out towards where you parked. You drove back to your apartment, letting Lando hang on the couch while you got ready. Lando had said you guys were going to a more casual bar after so you decided on one of your signature going out outfits.

"Where do you want to eat?" You asked and Lando looked up from his phone.

"I'm up for anything," he said and you laughed.

"Anything besides x, y, and z," you joked and he rolled his eyes getting off the couch and coming towards you.

"As long as you're on the menu i'm down," he said cheekily and you gagged.

"I just threw up in my mouth," you complained. "Let's go Romeo."

He laughed following you out of the apartment and back downstairs. You called an Uber and the two of you ended up at a little diner you knew of that wasn't too busy. You ordered a burger and fries, Lando opting for chicken tenders.

"So which race will you be at next?" He asked casually.

"Probably Vegas," you replied, taking a sip of your coke. He frowned.

"Not Mexico?" He asked and you shook your head.

"I have a job ya know," you said and he looked at you not saying anything. "What?"

"I just figured that we've been spending enough time together that you'd maybe want to start coming to more," he said and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"I mean yes, I love spending time with you but I have a life here," you said. "We've only known each other for a couple of months and been together a handful of times."

Lando didn't say anything, looking down and picking at his food and you sighed.

"It would be a lot different if you lived here or I lived over there, but that's not the reality of the situation," you said sadly.

The rest of the meal was quiet, the tension between the two of you high. Lando paid for your food and you headed towards the bar, texting Lily that you needed to talk asap.

It looked like F1 had taken over the bar as you got there and Lando peeled off from you immediately. You found Lily ordering a drink and you joined her.

"What's up?" She said taking in your dejected appearance.

"We talked," you sighed. "And it didn't go well." She frowned.

"What did he say?" She asked and you turned back to the bar fiddling with your drink.

"It was more the vibe I got, like he was under this assumption that I was going to follow him around the world just because we've had one good week together," you said annoyed.

"I told him not to do this," Lily sighed and rubbed your arm sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you reassured her. "I shouldn't have let it get this far, I just wanted to be happy."

"Let's get drunk then and pretend your dinner never happened," she suggested and you grinned.

"I'll drink to that," you said lifting your cup to hers.

You ended up a little drunk later on but not trashed, which is exactly the sweet spot you wanted to be in. Lando was also a little drunk, you could tell because he had decided to stop ignoring you.

Currently the two of you were engaged in deep conversation, him listening to you ramble on about how your favorite football team was doing.

"It's just like what is the offense doing ya know?" You went on. "No blocking, a five star qb that doesn't have his shit together, and horrible play calling."

You started to go on again but felt someone bump into you, pushing you into Lando whose arms shot out to catch you. You face was inches apart from his and your breath hitched as you watched him flick his eyes down to your lips. You start to warn him but he cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hungrily before you realized what's happening and push him off and bolt out of the bar.

"Y/n," he calls out following you outside and you can already feel tears forming in your eyes. "Y/n wait."

He grabs your arm pulling you around to face him.

"I can't fucking do this Lando," you yelled and he pursed his lips. "You know I can't do this."

Now you were pissed and you could tell he was starting to get angry.

"I just don't understand," he said. "I know you feel this between us."

"Of course I fucking do," you exclaimed. "But my life is here! I live here! My job is here! My friends are here! I'm not one of your influencer flings who can just jet off and follow you around the world while you live your dream. That's not mine."

He stalked towards you, getting closer before you reached your hand out to stop him.

"You think this is just a fling for me," he bit out. "I want you next to me for more than a couple of races." You scoffed throwing your hands up.

"You don't even know me," you yelled, tears starting to leak from your eyes and hurt flashed across his face before his expression hardened.

"You're right, I guess I don't." He said. "I can get any girl in the world to follow me around so I don't need someone like you."

You felt like your heart had been stabbed and before you could stop yourself your hand flew across his face making contact with his cheek. You felt two arms pull you back and you turned sobbing into Max's chest.

"Hey hey, it's okay, let's go," he whispered rubbing your back. They must have ventured outside seeing you guys argue because when you turned to look back you saw Lily screaming at Lando and Oscar trying to hold her back. This made you cry worse and you were hiccuping as Max lead you towards his car. He settled you into the passenger seat and you rested your head against the window trying to calm down.

"I know you won't believe it now, but he didn't mean it," Max said and you didn't reply. "He's just scared of what he's feeling and doesn't want to lose you.

"Well it might be too late for that," you whispered and Max gave you a sad smile. He walked you up to your apartment, hugging you goodbye and making you promise that you'd still come to Vegas.

You texted Lily that you loved her and were sorry you didn't get to say goodbye but were taking a break from social media and your phone for a little bit so to not worry. She replied that she loved you too and to text if you needed anything.

At least one good thing had come out of that first race.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 13

This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.

This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.

Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.

“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”

“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.

Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.

“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.

“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”

Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”

Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.

“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”

She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”

Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”

Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”

Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.

On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.

“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”

She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.

Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.

“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”

Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”

“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”

Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”

Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”

“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.

“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”

Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.

They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”

Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”

Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”

“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”

Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.

“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.

Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”

Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?

Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”

Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.

In short, Steve hated her on sight.

Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.

Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”

Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”

Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”

He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.

He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.

“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.

Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.

Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”

“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”

Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.

Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.

About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.

“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.

“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”

Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”

“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”

Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.

“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”

“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Karen nodded.

“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.

Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.

It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.

“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.

Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”

The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.

Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.

“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”

Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”

“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.

Then there came a loud honk.

Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.

He slid into the front seat.

“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”

Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.

Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.

And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.

Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.

Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.

****

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[hunn1e-bunn1e]

神話 - "Ardent Dragon Rests Upon Resplendent Cliffs"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which the Traveler and Paimon unknowingly come across a mysterious adeptus by the name of Sky Weaver while the two are exploring near the sparsely populated cliffsides of Mt. Mingyuan. Or; In which the long-forgotten tale of the adeptus Sky Weaver is uncovered by Aether from the lips of the various Adepti of the Nation of Liyue and the people who know them.

Prologue | Part 1 | (1.5) | Part 2 | (2.5) | Part 3 | (3.5) | Part 4 | (4.5) | Part 5 | (5.5) | Part 6 | (6.5) | Epilog | Extra 1 | Extra 2

                                                                                                   

🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞

The cliffs of Mt. Mingyuan were a dangerous place for any person to fool around on, but even more so for a child. Yet it made for the perfect place for tuning into nature and taking in the sights of the surrounding terrain, such as a magnificent view of Yilong Wharf, Mt. Lingmeng, river Jademouth, and the distant silhouette of Chiwang Terrace, the ruins of Fort Charybdis and Lumidouce Harbor in Fontaine. The most notable sight that one could witness upon the cliffs of Mt. Mingyuan however, was a breathtaking view of the sky that suffered no light pollution despite the proximity to Yilong Wharf.

Although, for a certain ochre-eyed child, Mt. Mingyuan was the perfect place to sneak off whenever he wanted some distance from his family or to practice his passion for wushu dancing.

Gaming had once again climbed up the mountain, carrying with him the hollow costume lion head that was many sizes too large for him at his current age. The costume head is held over his own to prevent it from collecting stains by being dragged along the damp mud and grass as he walks. Occasionally it tips forward and obstructs his view, causing him to stumble to regain his footing and tip the object back to its original position.

Today was particularly different from other times he had come up the mountain. This time, instead of grinning with excitement and running up the familiar path to reach the grassy plateau-like area he usually practiced at, he frowned with tears collecting on his lower lashes as he glumly dragged his feet along as he walked. Earlier, not even an hour ago, Gaming had gotten into an argument with his father; the older man telling him that his dream was foolish and that he should focus on continuing the family tradition of being a tea farmer.

Now, here he was, curled up around the costume lion head with his back to the trunk of a tree. The dew that rested on the grass beneath him soaked into his shorts but he couldn't bring himself to care. The fur of the costume head was damp with his tears, the wetness causing the faugh fur to clump together in places.

“...Mortal child, it is dangerous to dwell upon this mountain unaccompanied is it not…?”  

A soft but masculine voice just to his left gently called out to him.

Gaming flinches in shock as he whips his head in the direction of the voice. His red teary eyes widened in shock and confusion at the abrupt appearance of another person. Once the ochre-eyed boy really took in this person's features, however, his jaw dropped in awe. 

A man, likely in his late twenties, who had long h/c hair with streaks of misty blue that were braided in certain places and seemed to reach his knees, long, thick lashes that hung over beautiful e/c eyes, and a peculiar blue symbol on his forehead. The man was draped in an elegant four-layered silk robe; the outermost layer being white with a navy blue and desaturated green bamboo leaf pattern. He was possibly the most beautiful person that the aspiring wushu dancer had ever seen before.

An amused chuckle from the mysterious and handsome man pulled the ochre-eyed child. from his thorough observation and reminded him of the question that was asked of him.

“Well, I'm not alone since uncle is with me now.”  

Gaming answers, shyly averting his eyes from the stranger's face with pinkened cheeks at the embarrassment of being caught staring.

The man tensed for a moment –from what the brunette child could tell from the other's body language– at the word uncle, but quickly regained his relaxed but regal posture. It seemed that this enigmatic stranger wasn't too fond of strangers, how ironic.

“Uncle, you called this one? Is that not a term reserved solely for those that one trusts?”  

The long-haired man asks with apprehension, worried that the child in front of him would find himself in trouble due to being too trusting.

Gaming giggled at the man's contorted expression, it was rare to see an adult become shy around him, so he couldn't help but find it a bit funny. He grinned at the stranger, his previous sadness momentarily forgotten as he focused all his attention on the man to his left.

“Well yeah, you're older than me and I don't know your name. Plus, you seem really nice. You wouldn't have asked if I was alone if you were a bad person. So, you're uncle.”  

The ochre-eyed child chirped, giving the man a close-eyed smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He pauses, however, eyes opening with curiosity as he asks the stranger a question.

“Actually, what is your name, uncle?”  

The e/c-eyed man, still registering the child's first and very worrying statement, doesn't answer. He heard the question, but his mind was preoccupied with his increasing worry for the previously crying boy, so he paid it no mind.

“Mortal child, this one's name is not of importance at the moment. What this one concerns one's self with is that you trust far too swiftly.”  

The robe-clad man expresses his worries, his face holding a mix of pity and concern as he takes a step closer to the boy; his posture growing more protective.

Straightening his back and stretching his arms above, causing the costume lion head to roll off his lap, Gaming stands from the damp ground. He sends a quick glance to the low-hanging sun to the west, letting him know that he should probably make his way back home within the hour lest he worry his mother. Picking up the costume head off of the grass, he turns to the beautiful stranger as he pulls the costume head over his own.

“I'll think about what you said, Uncle Měilì. I have to start heading back though, or mom will get worried about me.”  

The brunette child smiles warmly as he balances the lion's head properly.

The man, now dubbed ‘Uncle Měilì’ raises a brow at the boy in confusion. That certainly wasn't his name. By reflex, he sweeps his gaze around to check if there are any other people present, but, of course, there aren't.

“Měilì? Is it this one that you are referring to, mortal child?”  

‘Uncle Měilì’ asks the boy as he points at himself with an air of disbelief and amusement.

Gaming turns to him with a pout, annoyed at the robed man's question. The ochre-eyed boy had already asked for his name, only for the inquiry to be ignored. He huffed and turned away from the man as he began to walk back the way he came.

“You said your name wasn't important, so I gave you a nickname instead. I can't just keep calling you Uncle, y'know. Also, my name is Gaming, remember it, okay?”  

He called out as he continued walking down the mountain, the costume lion head held up above his own with his little arms.

Stopping when he doesn't hear a reply, the child looks behind him to see no one there. Only a retreating spectral-like mist could be seen, sweeping through the sky in majestic arcs and swirls as it climbed up the mountain.

The cliffs of Mt. Mingyuan were a dangerous place for any person to fool around on, but even more so for a child. However, for a certain ochre-eyed child, Mt. Mingyuan was the perfect place to sneak off whenever he wanted some distance from his family or to practice his passion for wushu dancing. It also served as a wonderful place where the boy met someone who would be a shoulder to lean on in his time of need.

Mt. Mingyuan is where a young Gaming first met that mysterious adeptus known as Sky Weaver.

🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞•♡•🏞

                                                                                                   

Footnotes:

Sky Weaver's appearance is heavily based upon the character Chuyi Flower Cake from ‘The Tale of Food’. I was actually going to add Cloud Retainer in at the very end, but changed my mind since this half chapter was already twice as long as the previous one. The word Měilì or 美麗 means Beauty, it's a simple nickname that I just grabbed on the fly.

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Genshin Masterlist and Series Masterlist!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! #thetaleofskyweaver @itztaki @sassy-cat-in-town @xharisrealm @lupicalbestwolf @pjmsies @just-here-reading @chibiduck @dellalyra @kiiyoooo @heavenlysilence0vx @2nd-number @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mshope16 @paastaboi @a-little-pebbl

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 1

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: At Tanner Novlan's 4th of July barbecue, Gabby Summers finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with Glen Powell—literally. What starts as a mishap quickly turns into something more as the two discover an effortless chemistry, sharing laughs, stories, and sidelong glances throughout the night. As fireworks light up the sky, Gabby wonders if their spark could be more than just a passing moment.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is my first fanfic that I've ever posted and there will be several more parts! Please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

The sky above Los Angeles was painted with the soft hues of an early July evening, just beginning to melt into a deeper blue as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. Tanner Novlan's backyard was alive with a festive warmth that matched the holiday. Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft glow on the gathering crowd. Laughter and chatter filled the air, blending with the faint melody of classic rock coming from a speaker nestled near the patio. The unmistakable aroma of barbecue wafted from the grill, where Tanner and Chord Overstreet stood, spatulas in hand, flipping burgers and ribs with practiced ease.

Gabby Summers strolled through the crowd, her nearly empty drink in hand. The warmth of the evening settled around her, making her feel slightly flushed, though she didn’t mind. She glanced around, catching sight of a few familiar faces mingling and laughing, each one immersed in the joy of the moment. 

It was her first time at one of Tanner’s famous Fourth of July barbecues, and she’d been thrilled to receive an invitation through his wife, Kayla. With the soft California breeze brushing her cheeks and the hum of excited voices, she felt like she was finally, truly part of the city's creative scene.

Just as Gabby was about to slip back inside to refill her drink, she collided with someone hard enough to jolt the cup in her hand. A splash of cold liquid hit her, and she instinctively looked down. The bright red punch from a solo cup now stained her white T-shirt, its American flag graphic damp and smeared with sticky crimson.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The voice was deep and genuinely apologetic.

Gabby looked up, meeting the gaze of the man she’d bumped into. He had striking green eyes that sparkled with both concern and embarrassment, and his tall frame loomed over her as he quickly took in the mess. There was something familiar about his face, but she couldn’t quite place it, her thoughts still on the vibrant stain spreading across her shirt.

He grimaced, wincing as he took in the mess he’d inadvertently made. “I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?”

Gabby blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Yeah, I’m fine, just—" She looked down at the mess, managing a soft laugh. “Not exactly the look I was going for tonight.”

The man chuckled, his smile easy and a little sheepish. “I can imagine. Here, let me help you.” He held up his hand as if offering assistance, but hesitated, clearly realizing he couldn’t exactly clean the stain off for her. Instead, he gestured toward the house. “I think they’ve got some towels in the kitchen. Let me walk you over?”

Appreciating his awkward, sincere attempt to fix the situation, Gabby nodded, smiling as they headed inside.

Inside the kitchen, Gabby reached for a napkin to blot at the punch stain, though it did little to help. Tanner’s wife, Kayla, spotted them, her eyes widening slightly at the mess.

“Oh no, Gabby! Hang on, there might be a Tide to Go pen in the laundry room down the hall,” Kayla suggested, pointing in the direction of a nearby doorway. “Maybe that’ll do the trick.”

“Thanks, Kayla,” Gabby replied, smiling gratefully before heading down the hall with Glen close behind.

In the laundry room, Gabby took the Tide pen from the shelf and dabbed it against the glaring red stain, trying not to laugh at the hopelessness of the task. The stain had already set, bright and relentless, covering most of the front of her shirt.

“Looks like that punch doesn’t give up without a fight,” Glen said with a grin, watching as she sighed, inspecting the damage in the mirror.

Gabby gave up, a chuckle escaping her. “Well, it’s safe to say this shirt isn’t going back to normal tonight.”

Glen looked her over with an assessing gaze, and after a second, he shrugged, starting to unbutton his short-sleeved shirt. 

“Here,” he said, sliding it off to reveal a fitted white tank underneath. He held out the shirt to her. “Take this. Your shirt’s basically a lost cause, and you probably don’t want to head back out there looking like… well, like this.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his offer. “Really? I can’t just take your shirt…”

“Sure you can,” he replied with an easy smile, urging the shirt into her hands.

Hesitantly, she took it, feeling a little self-conscious but grateful. “Alright, if you insist. Thanks.”

Glen stepped outside the laundry room to give her a moment to change. Gabby slipped out of her damp, stained shirt, and as she slid Glen’s over her shoulders, she immediately noticed the faint, rich scent of his cologne—fresh and woody with a hint of something warm and citrusy. She could pick out notes of bergamot and amberwood, leaving a soft, comforting mix of crispness and warmth.

The shirt was loose, the sleeves brushing past her elbows, and she buttoned it up, tucking it into her light-wash denim shorts to give it a bit of shape. She took a final glance in the mirror, adjusting the collar and smoothing the fabric. It wasn’t her planned look, but somehow, it felt effortless and casual, with a charm that almost suited her more than the original outfit had.

As Gabby opened the door and stepped out of the laundry room, she found Glen waiting just a few feet away. He was leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he straightened when he saw her.

“Thanks again for this,” she said, gesturing to his shirt with a shy smile. “I’m… well, I’m lucky you had a spare.” She paused, realizing something. “I just realized—I don’t actually know your name.”

He chuckled, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek as he extended a hand. “Glen. Glen Powell.”

The name rang a bell, but Gabby couldn’t place it immediately. She took his hand, her smile widening as his warm grip lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, Glen. I’m Gabby—Gabriella Summers,” she replied, giving his hand a gentle shake.

“Gabriella,” he repeated, seeming to test the name with a slight smile.

She gave him a wry look. “At least I don’t look like I just lost a paintball match anymore.”

“Not at all,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her in his shirt. “In fact, I think you pull it off better than I do.”

Gabby laughed, warmth creeping into her cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty.”

“Maybe,” he teased, shrugging. “But I mean it.”

They exchanged a smile, and for a moment, everything around them felt still, despite the faint sounds of music and laughter carrying in from outside.

“Shall we head back?” he asked, gesturing toward the door, though he made no move to walk ahead of her.

“Lead the way,” she replied, a hint of excitement bubbling up. She was starting to get the feeling that tonight might be more interesting than she’d expected.

As they returned to the party, Gabby and Glen quickly drifted back into the lively atmosphere of Tanner’s backyard. Glen stayed close by, occasionally stealing glances at her as she mingled with others, their earlier mishap now a quiet joke between them. Gabby found herself laughing more easily with each passing moment, almost as if the night had taken on a new lightness.

It wasn’t long before Tanner, who’d been tending the grill with Chord, noticed Glen’s unusual choice of attire.

“Glen! What’s with the tank top?” Tanner called over, smirking. “You out here trying to show off?”

Glen rolled his eyes, chuckling as he made his way over to where Tanner and Chord stood, flipping burgers and laughing amongst themselves.

“Long story,” Glen replied with a sheepish grin. 

He nodded toward Gabby, who was chatting with Kayla a few steps away, wearing his button-up shirt. “I, uh… spilled my drink on her by accident. Figured the least I could do was offer her my shirt.”

Chord raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Slick move, man,” he joked, nudging Glen. “Because that’s exactly how you impress a girl: by drenching her in fruit punch.”

“Smooth,” Tanner chimed in, barely holding back a laugh. “You should write that down. ‘How to win a girl over, Glen Powell-style: ruin her shirt, then offer her yours.’”

Glen gave a good-natured laugh, shrugging. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Chord squinted, giving him a skeptical look. “Did it, though?”

They all burst out laughing, Glen running a hand through his hair, looking both amused and slightly self-conscious. He glanced back at Gabby, who caught his eye and smiled, a hint of curiosity in her expression as she looked at him and then back at the three of them.

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” Tanner added, clapping Glen on the shoulder. “You should probably get back over there before she realizes you’re not really that smooth.”

Glen smirked, accepting their playful jabs. “You’re probably right.”

The evening slipped by in a warm, carefree haze as Gabby and Glen gravitated toward each other again and again. They’d drift off to chat with other guests, but soon, she’d feel Glen by her side, making some dry, witty remark that would have her throwing her head back, laughing. His charisma was magnetic; he had this way of drawing her in with just the right mix of humor and charm.

Their conversations flowed effortlessly as they started talking about film. Gabby mentioned how she’d moved to Los Angeles recently, hoping to get her start in the industry. Glen’s eyes lit up in genuine interest, sharing some stories about his own early days, bouncing between roles as an actor, writer, and even producer. His passion for his work was evident, and it sparked something in her, making her want to tell him more about her own aspirations, the kinds of films she wanted to make.

From film, they moved on to travel, comparing notes on cities and countries they’d visited or dreamed of visiting. Both had a fondness for Europe—Italy especially. She talked about a summer she spent in Rome, completely absorbed in the art and food, and Glen shared his own story of wandering the quiet streets of Florence, charmed by the city’s history and beauty.

When they discovered they both had a love for cooking, Glen’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Alright, what’s your go-to meal if you’re trying to impress someone?” he asked, leaning in with an almost mischievous smile.

She thought for a moment, a small grin forming. “Pasta alla vodka,” she admitted. “I swear it’s the recipe my mom taught me, but I’ve added a few tricks of my own over the years. It’s usually a winner.”

He laughed, giving her an impressed nod. “I respect that. But next time, you’ll have to let me try it—then I’ll tell you if it really lives up to the hype.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Only if you make something for me, too.”

Their banter was easy, and each passing hour only seemed to make the chemistry between them more tangible. Gabby couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much in one night, and every time Glen flashed that confident smile, she felt her cheeks flush just a little more.

At one point, she found herself by Kayla’s side as they refilled their drinks. Gabby tried to keep her voice casual, but curiosity got the best of her. “So… what’s Glen’s story?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder where he was talking with Tanner and Chord.

Kayla immediately raised her brows, a knowing smile forming. “What, you interested?”

Gabby’s cheeks reddened, but she shrugged, trying to keep her cool. “He’s interesting, that’s all. I’m just curious.”

Kayla chuckled, giving her a look that suggested she saw right through her. “Alright, well… Glen’s been in the industry for a while. He’s one of those guys who can do a little bit of everything—acting, producing, even some writing. He’s kind of having a moment right now. He’s been good friends with Tanner and Chord for years; they’ve worked together on a few projects. But as far as relationships go, let’s just say he hasn’t really been looking for anything serious lately.”

“Oh.” Gabby tried to mask her disappointment, even though a little twinge of it crept in.

“But,” Kayla added with a wink, “that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time. And, well, judging by the way he keeps glancing over here, I’d say he’s at least a little interested.”

Gabby felt a mix of excitement and caution. Maybe Glen wasn’t looking for anything serious, but that didn’t mean tonight couldn’t be fun. After all, she’d just moved to LA and was open to meeting new people and making memories.

Meanwhile, across the patio, Glen was in the middle of a conversation with Tanner and Chord, but his gaze drifted toward Gabby as she laughed at something Kayla said.

“Alright, I’ve got to know,” Glen said to Tanner with a smirk, nodding in Gabby’s direction. “Who is she?”

Tanner glanced over, recognizing the interest in Glen’s voice. “Her name’s Gabby. She’s friends with Kayla. They met through a mutual friend and hit it off. Why? Interested?”

Glen laughed, but there was a spark in his eyes. “Not sure yet.”

As the night went on, Glen and Gabby found themselves side by side again. The conversations continued, but there was an added warmth between them now, a spark that lingered as they shared subtle glances and soft smiles.

As the evening began winding down, the air filled with a new kind of energy as Tanner announced that the fireworks show was about to start. Guests began to gather on the lawn, chairs and blankets spread across the grass as they looked up in anticipation. The barbecue’s earlier lively chatter had softened, replaced by a hushed excitement as everyone waited for the first burst of color to light up the night.

Glen spotted Gabby not far off, standing at the edge of the group, her eyes turned toward the sky. Without even thinking, he drifted over to her side, catching her eye just as the first fireworks burst into a spray of red and gold above them.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured, glancing at her.

She smiled, nodding, her gaze never leaving the display above. “It’s beautiful. And the perfect way to end the night.”

They stood side by side, close enough that their arms brushed as each firework exploded overhead. With each burst, the colorful lights reflected in Gabby’s wide eyes, casting her face in an ethereal glow that held Glen’s attention longer than he’d planned. He found himself caught up in her quiet awe, as if he were seeing the fireworks for the first time himself.

Another firework burst overhead, this one in a brilliant shade of purple, and Gabby looked over at him, catching his gaze. Her expression softened, and she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“What?” Glen asked, smiling.

“Nothing,” she replied, her voice warm and teasing. “I just didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly how I usually try to make a first impression.”

Her laughter mixed with the faint crackle of the fireworks, and Glen felt something shift between them, a quiet understanding as the night grew darker and the crowd grew quieter. When the final firework exploded, painting the sky in shimmering gold, he leaned just a little closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, catching her attention once more. “Would you maybe want to go out sometime? You know, somewhere that doesn’t involve me ruining your clothes.”

Gabby laughed, the sound easy and genuine. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“I think I’d like that,” she replied, a smile lingering on her lips as the last of the fireworks faded into the night sky.

As the last guests began drifting out and the night turned quiet, Gabby made her way back through the house to say her goodbyes. She found Kayla near the patio, chatting with a few friends, and hugged her, thanking her for the invitation and a night she wouldn’t forget. After bidding farewell to Tanner and a few others, she turned to head out, only to find Glen standing nearby, as if he’d been waiting for her.

“Heading out?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes warm.

She nodded, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Yeah, it’s getting late, and I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Mind if I walk you to your car?” Glen offered.

Surprised but pleased, she smiled. “Sure, I’d like that.”

They stepped out into the cool night, the hum of conversation fading as they moved away from the house. The quiet of the street was a stark contrast to the party’s earlier energy, and as they walked, Gabby felt the weight of the evening settle in—a mix of exhilaration and curiosity about where this unexpected connection with Glen might lead.

When they reached her car parked a few houses down, she turned to face him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, thanks for walking me.”

“Anytime,” he replied with a slight grin. “By the way... about that date we talked about—mind if I get your number?”

She could feel her cheeks warm as she pulled her phone out, exchanging numbers with him, their hands brushing briefly as they made the switch. Just then, Gabby looked down and realized she was still wearing his shirt.

“Oh, I almost forgot—do you want your shirt back?” she asked, tugging at the collar, her smile sheepish.

Glen just shook his head, grinning. “Nah, keep it. Gives me a reason to see you again.” His voice held a playful note, though his gaze was sincere.

She chuckled, glancing down at the shirt she now realized she’d probably end up wearing to bed. “Alright, then. Guess I owe you one.”

As they stood there in the quiet night, an unspoken warmth lingered between them, both hesitant to let the evening end. Gabby took a small breath, then stepped forward, her movements soft but deliberate. She wrapped her arms around Glen, feeling the warmth of his frame envelop her in return. He held her gently, his hands resting on her back in a way that felt both natural and steadying.

The embrace lingered a little longer than a simple goodnight might warrant. She could feel the beat of his heart against her, steady and strong, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. The scent of his cologne, warm with hints of amberwood and bergamot, was even more noticeable now, filling her senses and adding an unexpected intimacy to the moment.

Glen’s hand slid just slightly, almost protectively, over her shoulder as they held onto each other. Gabby felt herself relax against him, the shared silence feeling more like an unspoken promise than a goodbye. As they finally pulled back, his hands stayed on her arms for a beat longer, as if reluctant to fully let her go.

“Goodnight, Gabby,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth she hadn’t heard before.

“Goodnight, Glen,” she replied, her gaze lingering on his as a small, shy smile spread across her face.

She took a step back, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch even as she opened her car door. He gave her a small wave as she settled in, his expression holding a softness that told her he’d felt it too—the spark of something just beginning.

[indigos-stardust]

Violet and Blue Bruises: Catfight

part 1 / part 2/ part 3/ part 4

Expectation:

(used a base found online made by AlexBaxtheDarkness on DeviantArt)

Reality:

Click for higher quality^^ Reblogs appreciated <3

The Tea:

The second that the two made contact, any hope of a somewhat peaceful resolution was lost. Blue immediately tackled Vio.

It was no duel. There's only nasty scraps, pushing, hard hits, and a pathetic scramble for leverage over the other, each barely managing to shift the tides before the other makes another move.

The bruises blossom, painting their skin with every forceful hit against furniture, floor, and bone. Fingers dig into soft skin, deep and piercing. Not as piercing as their f*cking screeching though. Shadow's been a bit bored recently just, sitting there being a shadow, so this? This is glorious.

He isn't quite rooting for Blue even though he still sees Vio as the traitor he is (okay, he understands why Vio betrayed him but still!! it hurt a lot okay?!), but honestly? He was gonna reevaluate all his feelings, because this? This was beautiful.

Sure, the losers spent several minutes practically rolling around like pigs trying to get any easy marks they could, but the second Blue got the upper ground (literally, Blue took a lot better care of himself than Vio and his strength definitely showed it, with how he was able to pin Vio down despite Vio's erratic squirming and clawing) - Oh man, Vio seemed trapped. How nice.

Blah blah blah, " What pissed you?!" blah blah blah garbage from Vio about, "Just giving what's due you dull headed-" and more blah blah blah something about, "YOU"RE SUCH A GREEDY COWARD, you aren't and never were there when we needed you!"

Honestly, where was the real drama? No ironic wordplays?

Blue clearly wanted to get this situation under control. So, he decided to very calmly and reasonably inquire, "WHAT 'S YOUR DAMN PROBLEM YOU STUPID *SS PIECE OF NERD?"

Honestly, Shadow hadn't ever known Blue could be so eloquent! It would be upsetting though if the fight ended this early, so for the first time he offered a small prayer to Hylia. Perhaps she could influence and spur on her pathetic little light worlders to keep the scrap going? And oh did she answer his prayers-

Like poetry in motion, Vio practically pierced Blue's shoulder with a fierce and rapid bite. A perfect twist of the head, just the perfect amount of force- and at the most perfect spot to induce the most pain without any real injury! Shadow had taught him that... He remembered.

F*ck Blue, Vio might suck but this was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen!

Of course, now they were both standing again! And in a new bigger territory! THE LIVING ROOM!!! Shadow hadn't been this thrilled since he died!!

A whirling heavy book smashing against Vio's skull followed a war cry of, "MAYBE THIS"LL TEACH YOU A LESSON ON HOW TO NOT BE A TOTAL D*CK!??" Pure poetry, if Shadow had a mortal form, he'd be wiping tears! Though he doesn't know if it be from laughter or pure joy!

OOH PERFECT THEY SMASHED RED'S NEW MUG? Ohohoho more dangers on the battlefield~~~(not to mention it could spur on another fight for whose fault it was later! this was like what? Red's third "new favorite best mug!" because all his favorite mugs always break?)

Shadow was just enjoying the show, excited for the grand finale- Someone was going to throw a chair!! He had to see how this would end-

The front door slams open. Green busts in, eyes panicked, face flushed. Red anxiously trying to look inside behind the frozen Green.

They freeze.

Oh.

Oh no.

lmso I might make part 4 later today or tomorrow lol

[sillyblues]

the ocean and the wind. (3)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: y'alllll i am so sorry i'm like a week late. we had like a fuck ton of tests that really made me want to die and we still have more coming up next week aside from our projects. anyways!! part 3 is here. the awaited angst!! hope you guys enjoy this i pulled this out of my ass so quick because i felt bad for leaving you lot for almost two weeks. hope you guys enjoy!!

part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ part 3 (here!) ✩ part 4 ✩ part 5 ✩ part 6 ✩ part 7 (final part)

Ronal and Tonowari first met when you introduced them to each other after things had calmed down with Tonowari.

They knew each other from the stories you tell of them when you spent time with each of them when things had calmed down with you and him. You told Ronal of Tonowari of who he is to you, of who he actually is behind the title of future Olo’eyktan, with fondness and giggles. You told Tonowari of Ronal of who she is to you, of who she actually is behind her cold and intimidating exterior, with admiration and grins.

They were close and very much dear to you and you’d want nothing more for them to be close to each other as well. You want them to see each other as they see you. 

And they did.

You were on the outskirts of the inner island, exiting it as you had just come back from gathering plants with Ronal for your class. Flat and circular baskets full of herbs, plants, and flowers rested against the side of your hips as you two walked. Sands and soil that were beginning to mix pushed back under your steps, leaving light footprints. You could faintly hear the waves of the sea hitting the sands on the shore and the fresh wind that softly nipped at your skin, almost ticking you.

The silence between you two was comforting but a familiar and welcome voice interrupted it.

“[Name],” Tonowari called out to you in a soft voice as he walked to you. He placed his fingers to his forehead and opened it towards you and Ronal as he said his greetings.

“Tonowari! What perfect timing!” you beamed at him and gestured to the girl beside you with your free hand, “Meet a close friend of mine, her name is Ronal.”

They introduced themselves and you watched as Tonowari’s blue eyes slightly widen before they quickly softened. How his ears twitched and the genuine smile on his face displayed his dimples, unlike the usual polite smile he shows to others. You watched as Ronal looked at him in curiosity, her forehead never furrowing nor her green eyes glaring. How her gaze didn’t look away quickly and her tail swayed lightly.

You grinned.

“Come, let us put away our baskets first and talk more.”

The two finally broke eye contact and smiled at you.

.

.

There is an island a bit far from the central island of your clan, the distance just enough to see its outline from afar and near to a village. It was more of a sandbar rather than an island and quite bare compared to the others. There were no trees nor any shrubs, maybe a few seaweeds that would wash up ashore. 

Despite its bareness, you never found it boring. This was your’s and Tonowari's island, after all. You found the place in one of your little adventures, swimming far away to see where the way of the water would take you and it led you to the little secret you two would keep for years. You two spent most of your time on this little island of yours, from countless days when you braid each others’ hair and decorate it with the prettiest shells you found and nights when you both lay down and stare under the moons, letting its beauty shine upon you two.

Now, this little secret has been shared with Ronal. It was not a heavy decision unlike it should have been, to let a stranger know something so close to you two. But Ronal is not a stranger. You see her. She sees you. Tonowari sees her. She sees him.

It was amazing to see how fast their friendship grew. Perhaps, they grew closer faster than she had with you. You thought it would take them a long time with Ronal’s shyness and Tonowari’s politeness, but they proved you wrong and you were happy about it. From the very first they met, they had gone along well like an instant connection that has been made from the moment they saw each other. 

“You act like a child. A grown child.” Ronal frowned, almost hissing in annoyance as she braids his hair. You two were on the little island, taking a break from all the classes that exhausted you three. You giggled and continued to inspect shells, keeping the ones you approved of in your left palm and placing back the others. Tonowari snorted.

“I am not a child. Which child have you seen is as big as me?”

“I see one in front of me right now.” There was a quick sound of a harsh slap on the skin and you turned at them, giggling once more. Tonowari let out a small hiss of pain and grumbled.

“No, Tonowari is not a child,” you walk over to them and sat in front of him as you placed the collected shells in the small pouch you brought with you. He grinned and before he could reply something along the lines of you being his supporter, you quickly crushed his hopes. “I think a baby would best describe him. A big babe who is lost without anyone to look after him.”

You teased him while you pulled his cheeks and pinched his arms. He let out an exaggerated gasp and you laughed. Even Ronal cannot help but let out a chuckle.

“What betrayal is this, [Name]?” Tonowari let out a groan when Ronal tugged a section of his hair in place when he flailed his arms around.

“Stay still, skxawng!”

“Not until [Name] explains herself of this betrayal!” his arms suddenly engulfed your figure and leaned his weight behind on Ronal. You squealed as you all fell while he just laughed boisterously. Ronal groaned at the heavy weight on top of her and hit Tonowari.

“You id—”

You try to get away but his arms were tight, not giving you a slight chance to escape. You felt bad for her knowing her hits don’t really hurt Tonowari and his ridiculous big muscles and she most likely knew of this as she gave up with a sigh after a few slaps with no effect on him.

You just giggled and leaned down on Tonowari’s chest. Your smile was so wide it was almost hurting your cheeks.

You would never exchange this for anything in the rest of the world.

.

.

“Ronal is such a freak, what does Tonowari even see in her anyway?” You heard a voice say in disdain and disgust as you walked towards the creek where you, Ronal, and Tonowari would meet one night. You had already asked for your parents’ permission and they didn’t mind that it is already evening. Giggles and murmurs followed after. When you heard that, your head immediately turned to the source of the voices.

They were girls who you recognized and there was one in particular whose name you remember. Her name was Letsakx. She had short wavy hair that reached up to her collarbones and was a bit taller than you. She was known for being loud and a bit mean but you never really paid mind to her that much because she hadn't done you any wrong until this moment.

“What did you just say?” You asked her after you walked towards her, confronting her for what she had just said. Her head turned to meet you slowly with her forehead raised and her friends did the same. 

“Who even are you?” She sneered.

“I asked you a question. What did you just say about Ronal?” You hissed.

“Oh, how surprising. I didn't expect that freak would have a little friend.” She scoffed. “Surely you would know what an arrogant thing she is, making people cry and pissing them off just because she can.”

“You shut your mouth, she is not arrogant!”

“Pff, what? Poor girl, you must be under her manipulation.” One of her friends said. She had wavy hair braided into a big one with her hair strands poking out. She looked at you in ridicule.

“What manipulation? How dare you say I speak of nonsense when she is truly the nicest girl in this village. How dare you speak of such things about her when you have no idea what she truly is?” You walked closer and closer to her, leaned up to her face and bared your teeth at her.

She hissed at you and you hissed at her as well. You heard her friends circle around you. One glared at you.

“Maybe she's just a freak like Ronal? You can't be friends with her if you aren't one,” the other giggled.

“Wait, I think I know you,” the latter of her friends suddenly said, “You're [Name]. You used to stick to Tonowari’s side before, didn't you?”

“You did?” Letsakx looked at your form up and down before she cackled. “How pitiful, are you clinging to Ronal just for him to have his eyes on you once more?”

“No, what are you talking about—”

“What a sad little thing, can't you see that he’s done with you?” The one who used to glare at you now looked at you with eyes full of mockery. 

You opened your mouth to say anything back to them, to snap back at how wrong they were. You three were just close friends. How could Tonowari be done with you and move to Ronal? It doesn't make any sense.

“No, we're all just friends,” you said in a firm voice, trying to steady yourself and not let their words affect you. They speak of lies, they are the one's themselves trying to delude you into thinking of your friends leaving you out. 

“Just friends? Don't they make us laugh,” Letsakx scoffed and rolled her eyes before she pointed her finger at your chest and poked it harshly a few times. “I might not like Ronal but at least I know that they are together. They will choose each other when their Iknimaya come.”

You almost stumbled back whether from the harsh pokes or harsh words, you don't know, but they rendered your legs weak. The others came closer to you too.

One put her hands on your shoulders from behind, “Poor [Name], their so-called friend who keeps tailing after them like an annoying little thing.”

“Wake up, [Name]. You will never be with Tonowari when he is with Ronal.”

“We can help you with that, you know? How could Tonowari choose her, a freak—” you pushed them away. You will not tolerate any disrespect to Ronal and Tonowari. You will not tolerate the lies they feed you. You will not tolerate the mock they have of you.

“You three do nothing but assume and assume! Have some shame!” You bared your teeth to them and hissed for the third time. Your ears were pinned back and your tail raised in anger. The anger in you boils stronger than the seed of doubt they planted in you. You walked away from them and you still hear their laughter and scoffs.

“Do come back to us when you finally open your eyes! We promise we won't laugh!” You hear Letsakx say one last time. 

You walked away until you heard their laughter faded into nothingness. Until you could only hear the soft crunches of the grass and sand under your feet. The soft whispers of the wind and the trills and chirps of the animals. The soft splashes and the pitter-patter of the water against the rocks as they stream down.

You let out a small whimper at the sight in front of you.

Beyond the creek, they lay so close to each other. Their chest rose and fell, signs of their peaceful rest with one another. Ronal’s head lay on Tonowari’s arm with it wrapped around her head. Her hand was placed on his chest and under his other hand. Their freckles glowed so brightly and — oh, how peaceful and content they looked.

Letsakx’s words rang in your ears and finally, you see it now. The way Eywa’s beauty shined so brightly to them, the way the bioluminescent lights of the plants and the water reflected on their skin. The way the water trickles softly as if not to disturb them and the way the wind provides them with enough coolness so they wouldn’t be hot as they embraced each other.

Memories of them flashed to your head. How Tonowari looked so bright and shined with the sun behind him as he comforted you with your legs halfway in the sea. How he wouldn’t let you go despite your struggles to do so for the best of you two. How Ronal finally saw you as she embraced you, her forehead against yours. How she smiled at you with such softness and gentleness.

You see it now. Why you loved being with them. Why you loved them. You didn’t see them just as your friends. You saw them for who they were. You saw—see—them. You are reminded of your greed. Your envy. It all comes back to you now.

But you are also reminded of how Tonowari and Ronal grew so close so fast, an instant connection that sparked between them. How they see each other so brightly, so gently, so lovingly. It was like they were made for each other. And maybe they were.

You bit your lip. Tonowari wasn’t just enough for you, you also wanted Ronal. You wanted her time and attention as well, why you kept her closer to you than any of your friends. You wanted him, why you avoided him in fear of him knowing your greed for him. 

Your teacher’s words rang in your ears. Greed. Selfishness. You are so greedy and selfish. How disgusting you are. And so foolish. So, very foolish. Why have you still not learned your lesson? Were you complacent in Tonowari’s belief in you? Stupid, stupid! It is him, Tonowari. He would never mind it because he is your friend. He is soft. He is kind. He is gentle.

And oh, Eywa, how could you even involve Ronal in your mess? She does not deserve this. He does not deserve this. She needs not anything or anyone to ruin her peace in life once more. Ruin her happiness. How dare you do this to her? To both of them?

You are angry at yourself. Angry for wanting her. For him. For both of them because of your excessive greed that knows no bounds. For roping them into your useless desires.

Your heart thumped so loud and heavy, wanting to rip out of the cages called your ribs and rip out through your chest and bleed so openly. Your ears are pinned back and tears welled up in your eyes. You let them fall, helpless against the raging emotions that you drown in. Your legs were weak and you have never wanted more than to open your mouth and wail but you dare not ruin their peace just because of your ruined one.

You took a step back and turned so quickly. One step. One more. Another. And more after another until your slow steps turned into a run.

Run and run, [Name]. Run and don’t look back. Never look back again. Never dare want them again. Never dare be greedy again.

Oh, Eywa, you begged, is this my punishment for the thoughts and ugliness I have borne in my soul?

I’m so sorry, Great Mother.

I am so sorry, Tonowari.

I am so sorry, Ronal.

You are reminded of how Tonowari is the ocean and how Ronal is the wind. You are reminded of your place.

Between the ocean and the wind, where does it leave you?

series taglist: @totesnothere04 @ducks118

[bookworm551]

Of Duty and Desire | Chapter 5 | Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

A/N: sorry this took so long!!!! I wish I had a good excuse but really it was just writers block. Anyways, I appreciate your patience, I love you all <33

Word Count: 6.8k words

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Epilogue

When you woke up the next day, you had a few blissful seconds where everything felt normal. You stretched as the light reflected on your face, and you enjoyed the sounds of the village waking up for a moment. Then, the memories of the previous night hit you all at once, and all the guilt came rushing back.

Memories replayed in your head over and over again. His hungry lips trailing down your neck, your eager hands pulling him close, the sound of your heavy breathing echoing around you. It was like a dream that never should have come to life.

You ran your hands over your face. This was not good. You thought you could still be friends, that you could maintain some form of friendship with him, but last night was clear evidence that it wasn't possible. Being alone with him, seeing him with the blue-green cast of colors on his face, and hearing him say how much he wanted to be with you had all been too much for you to think and act rationally.

Now, you had to get up and go about your day pretending as if nothing had happened. And that's exactly what you did.

You threw yourself into your chores, doing everything in your power to distract yourself from the night before. You even asked Ronal for more work when you finished your chores in record time. It was terrible for you to look her in the eye knowing that if she found out about last night, she would unleash a flood of fury on you.

Everything was going relatively smoothly up until late in the afternoon when Aonung found you on the beach mid-errand. "I've been looking for you," he stated as he came up behind you. You looked up at him in alarm, your heart speeding up anxiously. "Oh?" you managed to reply quietly, trying to appear unfazed by his presence.

"I am about to leave with Rotxo and the others," he explained. "There is still time for you to join if you'd like." The anxious tension in your chest subsided somewhat at his question. You had forgotten that he and the others were planning on going hunting, even though they had talked about it just last night. You also remembered that Neteyam had also been invited to go as well.

Forcing a smile, you replied, "Thank you, but I think I will stay inside the sea wall today." Aonung shrugged casually. "Very well," he said. "We'll be back by eclipse." You nodded and watched him walk off, taking a breath to steady your heart.

You needed to figure out some way to reconcile what had happened between you and Neteyam, but you didn't know what to do. You knew how upset Aonung would be if you confessed what you had done with Neteyam and how you felt about him. You knew how upset Ronal would be if she knew that you were in love with someone other than her son. To stay silent would mean you would be eaten up by guilt, but to speak would surely mean severe consequences.

You wouldn't mind facing the repercussions of your actions. In fact, you felt that you should, but you hesitated out of fear of what would happen to Neteyam. If you were to be in trouble, you still had some level of protection through Ronal's connection with your mother, but with Neteyam, there was no doubt that your mentor would be angry enough with him to try something as drastic as excommunication. You would never be able to forgive yourself if he had to face punishment like that.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you headed back to the village. You returned to distracting yourself through work, braiding, weaving, and organizing anything you could find. You hadn't even realized the hours that had flown by until you stepped outside to go diving for sea grass.

You had initially planned on swimming out to the edge of the sea wall on your own, but now, you considered taking an ilu. Glancing at the sky, you figured you had less than an hour before eclipse. After deliberating for a moment, you decided that it was enough time for you to gather what you needed without one. As much as you enjoyed riding, swimming on your own was more relaxing.

Swimming out to the edge of the sea wall, you became distracted from your thoughts by the graceful creatures darting around you. Nothing cleared your mind from plaguing thoughts better than floating in the warm water while the glowing dots and stripes of the sea animals swirling around you.

You swam down to the sea floor where the sea grass swayed lazily with the movement of the water. You began pulling up the grass from its roots, tying each bundle tightly before placing it in your pouch. While you were gathering, you were blissfully unaware of a creature nestled in the grass around you.

Reaching for another handful of grass, you touched the fin of what you quickly learned was a viper ray. Defensive and vicious, viper rays typically avoided the reef and rarely came in past the sea wall. Though they were beautiful to watch, being so close to one was dangerous. Their venomous sting had been known to kill Na'vi in the past, and even if it wasn't fatal, it was definitely a very painful experience.

Your touch startled the hiding creature. Faster than you could process, the viper ray whipped around and slashed its thick tail at you, swiping across your ribs.

You immediately flinched and released much of the air you were holding. The pain was immediate, a deep burning sensation that outweighed any sort of injury you had ever experienced. The viper ray darted away back into the grass, leaving you clutching your side as you felt you air supply depleting. Desperately, you began kicking towards the surface as quickly as you could.

When you broke above the water, you gasped in pain. You instinctively clutched at your side, the sting burning like a fire across your body. You looked back at the village, a decently long swim even without being injured. You cursed at yourself for not bringing an ilu. Now, you had no idea how you would get back on your own.

Still, you began kicking towards the beach, your breathing too fast and frantic to dive back down again. From the corner of your eye, you saw movement. Turning your head, you made out several figures in the distance on skimwings leisurely heading back to the village. Blinking through the pain, you recognized the people passing by as the group of your friends who had gone hunting earlier. They must have just returned.

In the dying light, you could make out Neteyam and Aonung side-by-side on their skimwings. Pain was coursing through your side as your breathing came in shallow breaths. You finally managed to inhale enough to call out as loudly as you could, "Neteyam!"

He must have heard your voice because his head immediately whipped around to find you. After a moment, he spotted your bobbing form in the water and swiftly moved to where you were floating.

What took less than a minute for him to cross over to you felt like an eternity with the viper ray venom coursing through you. You were grimacing in pain, the salt water causing your sting to burn even worse. Already, you were feeling the fatigue that came with viper ray stings.

"What's wrong?" Neteyam asked in concern, noticing your face contorted in pain. Right behind him, Aonung came up to you on his skimwing. "I've been stung," you managed to gasp as you struggled to stay above the water. "Viper ray."

Neteyam's face shifted from concern to panicked realization. He had heard the stories of the infamous creature and knew the potentially fatal effects it had. Aonung, too, realized the severity of your injury. "She needs to go to my mother now," he told his friend urgently.

Both boys jumped off of their mounts to take you, and you reached a weak hand out to Neteyam. He took it and pulled you over to his skimwing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut and resting your head on his chest as he hoisted the two of you onto the back of his skimwing.

Your breathing came in sharp gasps as you took off towards the village. In your mind, your thoughts were growing hazy, and it became difficult for you to understand the reassuring words Neteyam was whispering in your ear. Everything was blurring, and the only thing that somewhat distracted you from the pain in your side was the comfort of Neteyam's arms holding you tightly.

You didn't realize it at the time, but the rest of the hunting party that Neteyam and Aonung were with had noticed the two of them speeding off toward the village and quickly followed suit. When you reached the beach, they all pooled around you to figure out what was happening.

"Find Ronal," Neteyam told the group of them as he carefully slid you off of his skimwing. They all hesitated for a moment, recognizing you curled up in pain in his arms.

"What happened to—,"

"Now," Neteyam snapped, his composure cracking over the panicked desperation he was fighting. The group of hunters scattered across the village, but Aonung remained behind in the water with the two of you.

"Let me take her," he told Neteyam, reaching for your form resting in his arms, but he didn't let you go. "I've got her," he said sharply, wading through the water quickly. Aonung was taken aback somewhat, but he didn't press it since he didn't want to waste precious time arguing.

It wasn't long before Ronal came rushing out to meet you all on the beach. She took a moment to assess you, feeling how your skin was growing unusually warm. "Come quickly," she told Neteyam urgently as she moved back to her pod.

Neteyam stepped after her towards the village. You were groaning in pain, your vision coming in and out of focus. You were still aware of the fact that you were in his arms, but your thoughts were becoming increasingly disorganized. You had felt his strong arms around you before, but when? You had been upset about him earlier, but why?

You tried to focus, but the pain radiating from your ribs made it impossible for you to think clearly. Still, in your cloudy mind, you had a lingering memory of something scandalous.

"What are you doing here?" You mumbled quietly to Neteyam, your speech slurring a little bit. He looked down at you for a second before replying, "You are hurt, and you need help." You groaned again as if to prove his point and turned your face into his chest. "It's okay," he soothed in a low voice, "I will take care of you."

When you had made it to Ronal's tent, Neteyam set you down carefully on the mat. He stayed by your side while Aonung crouched on your other side. Ronal quickly set to work, pouring water over your sting and wiping away the bleeding. You hissed in pain as she inspected the gash in your side.

Grabbing Neteyam's arm tightly, you cried out through clenched teeth, "It burns." He ran a soothing hand over your forehead. "I know it does," he replied, trying to keep his voice calm for you and failing miserably. "You'll be okay." Your breathing was labored as you looked up at his with glassy eyes. "Every day, it burns," you murmured. "How can I stop it, Neteyam?"

Neteyam's heart ached. You weren't just talking about your sting. Your words were echoing what you had said the previous night. It had been weighing on Neteyam the whole day. He had been unable to shake your words from his mind, and he replayed the memory of kissing you over and over again. He would never forget the blissful moment you shared, but he could never forget the look of horror and heartbreak on your face when you had realized what you had done. It burned, indeed.

"What is she saying?" Aonung asked sharply, staring at Neteyam's longing face with suspicion. He looked up at him, pulled from his thoughts, and said dismissively, "She's hallucinating."

"I don't want to stop it," you whispered in a breathy voice. "I wish it could be real." Neteyam tensed at your words and prayed that you would stop talking in front of Ronal and Aonung. Ronal didn't seem to heed your babbling as she worked, but Aonung was looking back and forth between your face and Neteyam's.

"What is she saying?" Aonung repeated in a hard voice. Neteyam's voice felt stuck, and his silence was only made worse when you reached out your hand up from Neteyam's arm to trace his cheek gently with your fingers. He brought his hand up to hold yours and closed his eyes in guilt. There was no way he could justify this.

Ronal's working hands stilled as she witnessed him grabbing your hand, her eyes flashing to Neteyam and then to her son. Neteyam kept his eyes on your face, but he could feel Aonung's burning glare.

He was putting the pieces together. He had known for a while that you were good friends with Neteyam ever since he first came to the reef, but Aonung had never felt any reason to suspect anything else. Recently, though, he had noticed a shift in his friend’s behavior. He had inexplicably started avoiding your friend group, and it didn’t escape his notice the way that Neteyam had been much more reserved recently.

All this, Aonung would have ignored, but now, he reconsidered everything. He had noted how you had called for Neteyam in the water. He saw how you had reached out for him and how you wrapped your arms around him tightly. He noticed the defensive way that Neteyam held onto you, refusing to let go. Now, hearing your mutterings and seeing you reach out for Neteyam, Aonung felt anger bubble in his chest.

"What did you do?" He seethed. Neteyam looked up at him and held up his free hand. "Aonung, please, I can expl—" Aonung shot up quickly and repeated in a harsh voice, "What did you do?!"

The tension was palpable in the silence. "Take this outside," Ronal ordered sharply, and Neteyam could feel the tsahik's anger in her voice. He got up slowly, dropping your hand. You whimpered as he pulled away from you. "No," you pleaded softly. "Stay." Neteyam could see that your words made Aonung even angrier, so he got up and darted out of the tent, closely followed by the other boy.

Outside, the young Metkayina warrior shoved Neteyam's shoulder. "What was that?" Aonung demanded, his chest heaving in anger. Neteyam held up his hands as a pacifying gesture. "Please, let's just—"

"Did you mate with her?" Aonung cut him off furiously. His forwardness caught Neteyam a little off-guard, and his denial seemed to be stuck in his throat. Just then, Kiri, Tsireya, and Lo'ak came around after hearing that you were injured, and Neteyam groaned internally. Having an audience would make this so much worse.

"Did you?" Aonung pressed, ignoring the others. Turning his focus away from his siblings, Neteyam replied, "No, I would never dishonor you like that." Tsireya looked questioningly between him and her brother. "What is going on?" She asked in confusion.

Aonung ignored his sister. "But you want to," he accused Neteyam. Already uncomfortable with having his family present, he stepped towards Aonung. "Let's talk about this alone," he said in a low voice. The other young warrior shoved him back. "Why?" He demanded. "Because it's true? You want her?"

Kiri took in a sharp breath, and Neteyam heard his brother curse loudly. Neteyam felt trapped. "My friend, please," he implored quietly. Aonung scoffed. "You are no friend of mine," he spat in a loud voice. "How long have you been sneaking around behind my back?"

As if things couldn't get any worse, Jake, Neytiri, and Tonowari came up behind their children, alarmed by the shouting. "What is the meaning of this?" The Olo'eyktan demanded to know. Pointing an accusatory finger at Neteyam, Aonung replied, "He has fallen in love with the woman intended for me."

There was a short, stunned silence, and Neteyam saw the look of disappointed frustration on his father's face. "Is this true?" Tonowari inquired severely. Neteyam hesitated for a moment, but he quickly realized he was in too deep to deny anything. "Yes," he admitted quietly.

Everyone present reacted differently. Aonung looked ready to kill Neteyam, Tsireya gasped softly, and Kiri put her face in her hand. Lo'ak looked half-impressed while Neytiri closed her eyes and began muttering under her breath either prayers or profanities. Tonowari and Jake exchanged uneasy glances and shifted uncomfortably.

"Do not blame her," Neteyam continued insistently. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have—," Jake raised his hand, cutting off his son. "Stop talking," he said harshly. Neteyam remained obediently silent while Jake ran a frustrated hand over his face. "Did you two...?"

Neteyam shook his head hastily. "No," he stated. "We are not bonded." A small sigh of relief came from both of his parents before Neytiri stepped forward toward her son. "I never expected this from you," she said in a low, harsh whisper. "You have brought shame upon yourself, upon this family."

Neteyam stood quietly as his mother began her rant. He knew this was coming, and it hurt just as much as he expected it to. Disappointing his parents was the worst feeling for him, and now he was getting the scolding of a lifetime in front of the rest of his family as well as the chief's.

Ronal stepped out of the tent just then, looking extremely displeased, and everybody turned to her expectantly. "She is asleep," the tsahik explained. "Her body will burn away the venom in time." Neteyam breathed a quick sigh of relief, but he was quickly filled with the apprehension of having to face Ronal's fury.

She pointed her glare at him. "Now, what is going on with you?" She asked in a displeased voice. Aonung stepped forward before Neteyam could respond and interjected, "He is in love with her." Ronal turned sharply to face Neteyam, and her scathing glare deepened. "We bring you into our home," she began in a slow, seething voice, "show you our ways, offer protection, and you return it by blatantly disrespecting us, my son, by trying to enamor his intended mate?"

Neteyam shook his head again. "No," he insisted, working hard to maintain a composed voice. "That was never my intention." Ronal look away from him and back at the healing tent. "And what about her?" She asked, gesturing to where you were sleeping. "Does she return your affections?"

Neteyam hesitated, not wanting to bring you into the mess of trouble he was already in. "I cannot speak for her," he said finally. Aonung scoffed at his words. "You heard what she was saying," he told his mother. "Of course she does."

Neteyam didn't say anything—there was no point. Jake stepped up to him, his face hardened in aggravation. "I told you to back off," he reminded harshly in English. "I said not to cause trouble." Neteyam nodded solemnly and muttered, "I know."

Jake huffed an exasperated sigh. "I'll take care of this," he muttered to Tonowari. Neteyam closed his eyes in shame. This was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid in leaving you alone. Now, he was in for a long night of listening to his parents berate him for hours.

Ronal scoffed. "We cannot allow this," she stated in outrage. "Your son has dishonored our son. He cannot go unpunished." Jake held up a reassuring hand. "Believe me, he will be dealt with," he told her earnestly.

"And how do you suppose he is to be punished?" She shot back. "He cannot be allowed anywhere near her again." Neytiri took a heated step towards Ronal. "You cannot exile my son," she asserted angrily. The tsahik glared at her. "Perhaps that would be the best solution," she countered in a haughty voice.

The two sets of parents all began arguing over each other. Neteyam watched in silent guilt. All of this fighting and contempt stemmed from him falling for you. He should have been more careful. He never should have taken you flying. He never should have danced with you. He knew better than that, but he couldn't help himself. He had wanted to thrill you, please you, any way he could, but now, his indiscretion had caused this dispute between his family and Aonung's.

While Neteyam was dwelling on his guilt, Aonung was glaring at him in resentment.

In the time that the Sullys had been in the reef, Aonung had gone from viewing Neteyam as a rival to seeing him as one of his closest friends. He had taught him the ways of the Metkayina. They had hunted together. They killed the akula together. And it was true that Aonung had no romantic feelings toward you, but he still held great respect for you and thought of you as his future tsahik with satisfaction.

Now, everything was changing. It was one thing for you not to feel anything romantically toward him, but it was something else entirely for you to be in love with someone else, especially when that someone else was in love with you. These bitter thoughts swirled in his mind until his voice finally called out above the bickering parents.

"I call for First Blood."

Everyone froze.

The Rite of First Blood was a dangerous and rarely used rite amongst the Na'vi that is only invoked in the most serious of disagreements. When someone called for First Blood with another, they fought in close combat until one of the participants drew blood from their opponent. The victor's conditions were binding and unimpeachable. What made it dangerous was that there were no stipulations other than requiring blood to be drawn, so the victor could go as far as mortally wounding their opponent if they so chose.

"Aonung, are you sure?" Ronal questioned after recovering from her stunned silence. Even she was startled by her son's call for such a serious matter. Aonung held a level glare at Neteyam as he replied firmly, "Yes."

Ronal shot her mate a reluctant look. "Very well," Tonowari conceded after a moment. "What are your conditions?" Everybody stared at Aonung, waiting expectantly to hear what he would demand if he was the victor. "If I win," he began slowly, staring at Neteyam. "You will leave the reef and never come back."

Immediate protestations arose from each of the Sullys except Neteyam, who silently held Aonung's glare with his own level gaze. "Silence!" Tonowari roared, cutting off the forest family sharply. Aonung continued as though he hadn't been cut off, "And I will be with the woman I am betrothed to."

All eyes were on Neteyam for his reaction, but he remained still, face impassive. "I accept," he responded evenly.

"Neteyam," Tonowari addressed. "What are your conditions?" He didn't respond for a second, thinking carefully about what to say, and Aonung scoffed. "We already know," he huffed. "If you win, she is yours."

"No," Neteyam replied resolutely.

Everybody blinked in surprise and exchanged uneasy glances. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. "She has already had so many decisions made for her," he explained slowly, shooting a look at Ronal's scowling face. "She deserves to have a choice for once in her life."

He looked back over at Tonowari. "That is my condition," he said decidedly. "If I win, she chooses if she wants to be tsakarem. If so, then she will continue her duties without reprimand, but if not, then she can renounce her title honorably, without shame, and without fear of retribution."

Ronal hissed in anger, but Neteyam was waiting for Aonung's reaction expectantly. The young Metkayina warrior nodded slowly and stated, "I accept." Tonowari was not pleased in the slightest about the arrangement, but he nodded gravely. "The Rite of First Blood shall take place at high noon tomorrow," he confirmed before turning to Jake.

"I suggest you keep your son away from here until then," he muttered in a low voice to him, but Neteyam could still hear him. Jake was glaring at his son as he responded, "Believe me, he won't leave my sight." Neteyam's stomach sank at the reality of having to face his parents' wrath for the rest of the night until noon. All he wanted was to see you and make sure you were alright, but there was absolutely no way anybody was going to let that happen now.

The good thing was that you were actually alright. You slept for a few hours before you began to stir again. Strange dreams and voices in your head made your sleep turbulent, so it was a relief to open your eyes again. Through your hazy vision, you could see a person sitting next to you, wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

You tried to say something, but your voice felt stuck, and all that came out was a quiet groan. "It's okay," a soft voice whispered. "You are still fighting off the venom." You blinked several times before your sight focused, and you were able to see who it was.

Tsireya's face was full of concern as she gazed down at you sadly. You mumbled her name, and she ran her hand over your hair comfortingly. "What happened?" you asked, your voice rough as a result of a dry throat.

She didn't respond, instead reaching for a bowl of fresh water for you to drink. She held your head up as you took a few eager gulps of it before laying you back down gently. "What happened?" you repeated, sounding clearer now that you had slaked your thirst.

"What do you remember?" Tsireya asked instead, taking the bowl back from your hand. You thought back, the memory of the viper ray flashing in your mind. "I remember getting stung," you began slowly. "I remember finding Aonung and Neteyam." You paused as the memory of Neteyam's arms carrying you replayed in your head. "That's about it," you finished quietly.

Tsireya studied your face for a moment. "Neteyam brought you back here," she explained nervously. "But you started saying strange things." Your face scrunched in confusion. "What kind of things?" You asked. Tsireya hesitated. "I am not sure," she confessed. "But Aonung—," she hesitated for a moment. "Aonung thinks that you are in love with Neteyam."

You blanched. Your mouth opened and shut, but no words came out. You were entirely unprepared for this accusation and could not think of how to defend yourself.

"It is true, isn't it?" She asked quietly. Your mind was reeling, and you were trying to think of something to say, but there was no way for you to justify what you had done. Your heart started pounding, and you began taking uneasy breaths. "Breathe," she implored, taking your hand comfortingly. Her touch helped ground you, and you tried your best to regain your composure.

"Tsireya," you began, "I— I never meant for anything to happen. I never meant to betray your brother." You could see the sadness and sympathy she had for you on her face. "I do not blame you," she told you gently, but you could see that she was torn. "But Aonung is very angry, as is my mother."

You closed your eyes, feeling the bitter sting of knowing you've disappointed the very people you sought to impress. "What did they have to say?" You questioned, not sure you wanted to hear the answer. Tsireya hesitated a moment before answering.

"Aonung has called for the Rite of First Blood with Neteyam."

Your blood ran cold. You immediately propped yourself upright, but you still felt weak from the venom, and your arms buckled. "What?" You whispered, horrified. Tsireya pressed gently on your shoulders to get you to lie back down before she nodded reluctantly. "It has been set for noon tomorrow," she explained.

You stared up at her face, mortified by what she had said. "What are the conditions?" You managed to whisper finally. She took your hand again, and you braced yourself for whatever she was going to say.

"Aonung's conditions are that Neteyam must leave the reef forever," she stated quietly. Your stomach twisted at her words. You closed your eyes and squeezed her hand. This couldn't be happening. It was just yesterday that you had been wrapped in his arms. You had run away out of guilt, but now the very real possibility of never seeing him again made your chest tighten with fear.

"And Neteyam's?" You whispered, trying your best to remain calm. Tsireya sighed. "If Neteyam is the victor, then you are free to leave your duties as tsakarem if you so choose," she explained.

You blinked. "What?" You questioned, unable to process what she just said. "Neteyam said you should be able to choose whether you want to keep training to be tsahik or not," she repeated. "He also says that you will not face any repercussions for your choice, whatever it may be."

You stared up at Tsireya for a moment, completely stunned. Then, you felt your throat tighten as tears gathered in your eyes. It all hit you so suddenly, you couldn't help but let them fall.

He was fighting for you. And not only to be with you, but to give you the opportunity to decide for yourself what you wanted to do with your life. It was so selfless and considerate. Nobody had ever given you that before.

Tsireya ran her free hand over your forehead again, a look of distress on her face. "I did not know you were so unhappy," she said mournfully. "I wish you would have told me." You shook your head as you took ragged breaths to calm yourself. "I could not," you whispered in a hoarse voice. "Your mother is my mentor, and I am betrothed to your brother. To tell you would mean you would need to keep secrets from both."

She didn't say anything as you took another breath to calm yourself. What you had said made sense, but it didn't make her feel any better knowing that you had been hiding your misery from her.

"I need to speak to him," you said at last, moving to prop yourself up again. Tsireya's eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously. "No," she replied quickly. "My mother would be furious." You sat upright, the sting on your ribs burning as you moved. She must have seen how you winced because she pushed you back down and said, "You need to stay and rest. You are not fit to move around."

You didn't fight her, but you weren't giving up. "Please, let me see him," you begged. "This is all my fault. I need to talk to him, and I won't be able to tomorrow." She sighed regretfully. "I can't let you do that," she said. "Even if you were well enough, Neteyam's parents will not let him leave their home. Lo'ak said that they are very upset with him as well."

You closed your eyes remorsefully. You hadn't even thought about what his parents would think about a situation like this. You remembered Lo'ak's words to you just a few days prior. If this gets out, Neteyam would be in more trouble than I've ever been in. How had it all gone wrong so quickly?

"The best thing you can do is try to get some rest," Tsireya told you gently. "Especially if you want to be there for the Rite tomorrow." With your eyes still closed, you let out a defeated sigh and nodded. You weren't going to win this argument with her, and since you were already in a heap of trouble as it was, you decided not to press the issue.

Still, sleep was the last thing on your mind. A torrent of thoughts whirled in your head. There were no way you could rest when the possibility of losing Neteyam was looming over you. If he lost, then not only would he have to leave, but you knew that the rest of his family would go with him. After all that they went through to acclimate to the reef, they would be forced to pack up their lives again.

With your thoughts, you were resolved to see Neteyam, consequences be damned. Tsireya had left after about an hour, and it was late enough that most people would be preparing to go to sleep right now.

You sat up slowly, trying not to irritate the sting in your ribs. Standing up, you felt a little dizzy, but it passed after a couple of seconds. Carefully, you stepped out of the tent. You checked that there was no one around before moving quietly down to the beach. You waded into waist deep water before softly calling out to an ilu.

You felt too weak to swim out on your own, so you decided that having an ilu to help was in your best interest. It would also allow you to keep your sting clean and dry. When one of the ilus answered your call, you attached your queue and slowly made your way to the Sullys.

As you came around to where the Sullys lived, you were relieved by the sight before you. Neteyam was sitting at the edge of his home out above the water, an arm resting on his knee while his other leg dangled over the water. He was staring up at the night sky. You had often seen him there, gazing up at the bright stars littering the sky, and you had hoped that he would be out there tonight as well.

With his gaze turned upwards, he didn't see you approaching slowly in the water. You glanced around to ensure nobody was nearby to see or hear you. You noticed that his pod was dark and quiet, indicating that everyone had gone to sleep, so you called his name out softly.

He must have heard you because his head snapped down and fixated on your form in the water. When he recognized you, he immediately turned to look behind him and check that none of his family had heard too. "What are you doing?" He whispered in alarm. "Why are you not resting?"

"I wanted to see you," you whispered back. "Can you come down?" He glanced back over his should for a moment before turning back to face you. "The beach," he said softly.

It was all he needed to say in order for you to understand. You nodded before turning your ilu in the water and swimming back toward the beach. As you stepped out onto the wet sand, he was walking stealthily across the suspended walkways toward you. Leaping down onto the sand, he quickly crossed over to you with a concerned face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked quietly, bringing his hands up to hold your shoulders carefully. "You should be resting, healing." You shook your head as you looked up at him. "I could not rest after what Tsireya told me," you replied quickly.

Raising your own hands, you held his arms by the crook of his elbow. "Is it true? Has Aonung challenged you to First Blood?" You questioned, already knowing in your heart it was true. He let out a small sigh, looking down at you in regret.

"It is," he confirmed in a whisper. "We fight at noon." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm yourself. "And the conditions?" You continued. "Tsireya said that if Aonung wins, you...," you trailed off, unable to speak anymore.

"I must leave the reef," he finished for you solemnly. You clenched your jaw in an effort to keep from tearing up. "But if I am the victor," he continued softly, "you will be free to choose the life you want. Whether you remain as the tsakarem or not, the choice will be yours with no consequences."

Your throat tightened at his words, and tears filled your eyes. Nobody had ever advocated for you to have a say in your own life. Ever since you could remember, things had always been arranged for you, and you had been too young to know what you actually wanted. Now, you had something that you wanted, and Neteyam was going to fight with everything in him for you to have it.

You shook your head sadly, looking down from his face. "You shouldn't have to do this," you sighed, squeezing his arms in concern. There was a small pause between you before his hands moved up from your shoulders to hold your face, making you look right up at him. His face softened, and his eyes moved back and forth between yours as he shook his head slowly.

"I would do anything for you."

Your breath faltered at his words, and you leaned into his touch with closed eyes. “I was so worried for you,” he continued softly. “I know what you said last night, but when I saw you in the water, I—,” he paused, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said finally, “but I can’t bear being away from you anymore. When I saw an opportunity to be with you, I couldn’t turn it aside.” The corner of his mouth turned upward before he added softly, “If you will have me, that is.”

His voice was so gentle and sincere, and he looked almost nervous waiting for your reply. You couldn't think of anything to say that fully encapsulated how you felt, so you stepped forward and pressed your lips against his.

Neteyam still held your face as he kissed you gently. You leaned into him, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He pulled away after what felt like too short a time, a faint smile on his face.

"I will have you," you whispered to him, the corners of your mouth tugging upward. You looked up at him, his face inches from yours. "But you better win.” His own smile widened in amusement. "I will," he promised, lowering his forehead to rest against yours. "I'm not going to stay away from you anymore."

You closed your eyes and relished the moment of peace between you. For a second, you were able to forget about the guilt and worry you were feeling about everything and imagined the life you could have with Neteyam, the life you wanted so bad, it hurt.

He pulled you back into another soft kiss. His hands left your face to wrap around your torso and wander up your back, exploring as much of your skin as possible. His touch left you breathless, and you eagerly pulled him as close to you as possible.

You could feel how much he wanted you, but he eventually pulled away from your lips, his eyes closed as he moved away. "I need to go," he whispered quietly, his forehead resting against yours. "My parents will know I've gone."

The reality of the situation returned, and you felt all the fear and anxiety of everything stirring in your chest. You sighed regretfully, not wanting to let him go. Neteyam must have sensed your apprehensions because his hands pulled you into a tight embrace, and he whispered in your ear, "It will be alright."

You buried your face in his neck and repeated the words in your mind, but it was difficult to believe when so much was on the line. It was cruel that this was only the first time you had let yourself hold him like this, and if Aonung won the next day, this may very well be the last time, too.

Gently, he pulled away from you. You let your arms slide off his shoulders, unable to meet his eyes. There was a moment of silence between you, neither of you wanting to leave the other. Finally, he sighed, raised a hand up to your head, and brought his lips against your forehead. You closed your eyes and tried to hold onto the moment while it lasted.

"It will be alright," he murmured against your skin. You nodded faintly. "It will be alright," you echoed. You looked up at him, and he had a small smile on his face. "I will see you tomorrow," he said at last as he began stepping backward toward his home. You could only nod as he moved away. Watching him go, you wrapped your arms around yourself and repeated his words over and over again in your mind.

It will be alright.

Chapter 6

_________

Taglist: @mashiromochi @eywas-heir @kafanizdakicokiyi @plzfeedmebread @afro-hispwriter @fanboyluvr @anm3mi @sadexact @peachinsomnia @fluroescentxadolescent @doulcha @crazy4books1 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @alicetweven @sarasapen @sadexact

[morgansman]

Part 1 : HAIR DEBATE.

I noticed a debate about Arthur being dark blonde or light brown. I would say both.

As seen in this photo, Arthur has some darkish brown and light brown to burnt blonde looking color to it.

Same with his hair. And before you argue that I'm using mods in these that change his hair I'm not, I only have an online content unlocker and I do not have a rampage trainer so mods that mess with his hair are very unlikely.

Also, the darkest color Arthur's hair can be ingame is dark brown, which is due to darker lighting. But my proof is inaccurate at best as photobleaching is a thing. And if you don't know what it is the photochemical alteration of a dye or a fluorophore molecule such that it is permanently unable to fluoresce. Or fading for short.

PART 2: EYES

I saw a debate on Reddit. Yes, Reddit. But it was about Arthur's eye color, I always thought it was blue until I checked this, now the thing about blue-eyed people is that their eye color can appear different per se. I can prove this I am blue-eyed. For example, my eye color looks purple sometimes, some dude said it was rainbow once kinda weird. But it can also look green at times just like Arthur's in this photo.

But this is caused by the light brown pigment of whatever the fuck interacting with the blue light in your eyes or whatever. Which causes it to look green or speckled. Also, I have proven before that Arthur has blueish-greenish eyes. Yes, that's real.

PART 3 : ARTHUR MORGAN vs. ELLIE.

no debate about Arthur solos. has around 6'0, 180lbs but if you want me to go deep into this. According to a video I have found and some other evidence Arthur's quickdraw is around .23-.27 seconds and the blink of an eye is .25 seconds, so before Ellie could get close she'd already be shot. Anyone who says otherwise might just be a dumbass.

PART 4 : Ending some bickering between John and Arthur fans.

It is persistently debated about who is the better gunslinger between Arthur and John, or fighter in general. It's not a fair comparison, it's like comparing apples to oranges, both have their specialties, and both have their advantages over the other. In terms of gameplay, they are indistinguishable. But in terms of lore, most will say that Arthur would win in a brawl and John would win in a regular duel. There isn't much debate about whether or not Arthur would win in a brawl, most would agree on this, though the second one is a bit more controversial. But it is reasonable to suggest that in John's prime and after all of his experience and training with Landon, that he would be a quicker draw. But the comparison still isn't fair nonetheless. Arthur isn't a gunslinger, though he may be extremely quick, he prioritizes accuracy over speed, and that is his specialty. Arthur is a sniper, he is a rifleman, he would pick off enemies from an extreme distance and John would clear them out with extreme speed. Arthur is better in terms of accuracy, but yes, John would likely win in a duel. But so what? Duels aren't all that common and it likely wouldn't be the circumstance in which they would fight. However, if it came down to it and they were both in a battle close to mid-range with guns, John would still likely win because even if Arthur can hit a vital headshot with great accuracy, John can still hit his shots almost as well, and do so quicker. This is assuming that they are both in their prime, of course, because if we are referencing Arthur while he has TB or while John is still an oaf and doesn't have the same versatility with guns then it wouldn't really be fair. Additionally, most John fans will mention that John had a better arsenal, but what relevance does that have? Did he find a time portal in 1911 and teleport back in time to 1899 just to shoot Arthur or something? If they were to fight, it would be in the same period, so arsenal doesn't matter.

PART 5 : Naming my son. ( made my Vern's brother Mike. )

Hey, I'm Michael, and I also manage the RDR2 FANCLUB Blog. I had a debate with my wife the other day about whether we should name our child Arthur ( comical I know. ) or Iroy both are good but I need your opinions. also, @arthursdoll you're a pretty good friend of my brother so I'll let you decide :)

PART 6 : John Marston who?

rip van winkle.

PART 7 : Ending another stupid Reddit thing.

" When do you think Dutch went sour. "

Dutch wasn't necessarily always a good figure in the game, he didn't really start out as one and this is speaking from someone who's played it 16+ times. Oh and by the way if you couldn't tell Vernidia isn't explaining this one. But you have to take something into account so let us start with the.

Death of Davey Callander. The death of Davey surely played an impact on the choices that Dutch throughout the story. So did the death of Jenny I suppose, both weren't really introduced.

Chapter 2. Chapter 2 played a big part in the game, it was one of the LARGEST chapters. And if you watch the hidden dialogues in chapters 2 and 3 between Dutch and Lenny and Hosea and Lenny, it looks to me like they were grooming him to become Dutch’s next “consigliere”.

Trolley incident, and ETC. The trolley incident happens during the trolley mission where Dutch hits his head, an injury possibly played a part during this, I don't quite know. But there is an obvious change in Dutch after he hits his head during that mission.

FORGOT SOMETHING. Arthur mentions in Chapter 1 Colter that he never saw a side of Dutch that he's seen before, this is when he killed that girl on the ferry job in Blackwater.

The Bank heist went wrong. The bank heist surely played a huge part in the game it contained the death of Hosea and Lenny. And after these deaths you can see a sure change in Chapter 5.

My conclusion is he went “Sour” during the ferry heist but didn't quite reveal his true colors until Chapter 4-5.

PART 8: When Dutch shot at John in rdr1 did he mean to kill him?

Yeah probably.

Made by Vernidia, Mike, and Scooter

[amazingmsme]

Restless ‘Til We Reach Home

A Lamb in Wolf’s Clothing (ch. 2)

AN: The long awaited second chapter & thunder saga is heeeere! I was getting ready to post it but stopped in my tracks when the thunder saga trailer dropped & realized how close it was & I knew what I had to do. Gotta say, Odysseus is real mean in this one. But hey, at least Hermes is there to balance it out!

Ch. 1 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

Polites felt as though he really needed to clear the air with Odysseus, but where to even start?

The captain was nowhere in sight, so he floated around the deck in search of him. He was still trying to get used to his new way of travel, but he liked to think he was getting the hang of it pretty well.

In the underworld, he couldn't fly. Then again, that was a place made for people like him. It was meant as a bastardized recreation of home, to provide the comfort of solid ground and company.

Polites thought back to Hades, and how despite how horrible he thought he looked, there was always someone around the corner who was worse. He had gotten used to the gruesome sights after a while. And as awful as it was to say, seeing them kept him humble. Because yes, things were bad, but at least he didn't have his entrails dragging behind him. Eurydice was one of the few who looked just as beautiful in death as she did in life.

Eurydice...

He wondered how she was holding up. It'd been hours for him since he'd left, but for her, who knows? Had only seconds passed, leaving her on the bank as she wondered what awaited him? Or had it already been a day, the loneliness beginning to set in? Even with the perspective of the real world, Polites found it difficult to gauge the passage of time down there. So wherever she was, however long it had been, he hoped she was doing well.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, inching towards the horizon. It would be dark soon. For now, the light shifted, reflecting off the clouds in vibrant golds and orangey pinks. It was the first sunset of his new life, signaling an end of an era and a new dawn on its way.

Night fell quickly, enveloping them in a blanket of stars and darkness. Polites looked for the moon in the sky, but it was nowhere to be found. Ah, a new moon.

If you were to ask him, he would say that the moonless sky was just as beautiful as a full moon night. He'd started various debates about it with other soldiers, encouraging them to just hear him out. Of course the full moon is beautiful, he never said it wasn't! The new moon may lack her silvery glow, but doesn't her absence make it all the more beautiful when she comes back? The darkness on nights like these provide the most clarity, offering to you all the stars you could ever wish to see.

Most people thought the night sky was only black, but oh how wrong they were. These are the impatient ones: those who never allow their eyes the time to adjust before they give up, going on about their night. But when you lay back and just allow yourself to study the canvas before you, the work of art will reveal itself with bold blues, greens, purples, and yes, even pinks.

Polites floated on his back, hovering mere inches above the deck as he stared up at the sky. By the Gods, how he'd missed it.

He didn't know he'd been crying until he heard heavy steps coming up the stairs, and he frantically wiped them away. He sat up just in time to see who was approaching.

Odysseus let out a startled yelp when he saw his friend's crumpled form lying on the deck, just as he looked before he died.

"Dear Zeus, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you still doing here?" he snapped, keeping his distance.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you, Captain," he said earnestly. "I-I was just watching the stars. It's such a beautiful night..." he mused, gaze turning upwards once more.

"I didn't mean why are you out here. I mean why didn't you go back to where you belong?" Odysseus asked in a harsh growl.

The warm, soft smile that had found his face was gone in an instant, "W-What?"

"If you're really Polites, you should be in the underworld. Isn't that right?" he cocked his head to the side, taking a threatening step forward.

Polites stared at him in complete and utter shock. "Odysseus... Why would you say such a thing?"

"Answer the question."

"I WAS IN THE UNDERWORLD! You were in the underworld! But- we made it out, together-"

"No, you stowed away," he clarified harshly. "There's a difference." He had backed Polites against the rail, continuing to advance until he was so close, their noses were almost touching.

"I-I thought you'd be happy to see me again!" he cried defensively. There was a flash of sadness, of forlorn longing across Odysseus's face, but it was gone in an instant. Polites continued, "I know I sure was... until you opened your mouth."

Odysseus scowled, "If you really are Polites... and I seriously fucking doubt it, then you have no idea what we've all been through since you left. So I don't much care for your holier than thou judgment."

Holier than thou-

"Is that what you think of me?" he asked, genuine hurt laced in his voice. "That I thought I was better than you?" His voice began to tremble, but he fought against it, although his words still came out in a wavering rasp through his weakened vocal cords. "Because I would never think that." He couldn't believe he actually had to tell him this...

Odysseus didn't speak for a long moment. Despite their close proximity, Polites had never felt farther away from his friend.

"I don't know what to think anymore."

Polites shook his head, eyes flying wide open. "No! Odysseus, you know me! You know better than to think that!" Said man rolled his head to the side, glaring at him from the corner of his eyes.

"Do I now?"

"You should..."

Another long stretch of silence. The only sound was the gentle breeze catching in the closed sails, swaying them about and flapping the fabric. Small waves lapped at the hull of the ship, creating a soothing sloshing sound.

"Yeah well, like I said. Things have changed." He inhaled deeply, letting out a long, suffering sigh. "I really wish I could believe you," he said, eyes closed as he addressed him. He shook his head, the movement barely noticeable. "But I just can't."

"But you can!" Polites reached out instinctively to hold his hand, but Odysseus jerked his arm away before he could. And then he noticed the way he was staring at him, as if he was some kind of threat- some kind of monster.

The captain quickly schooled his emotions, taking a moment to himself before addressing Polites.

"So... what made you follow us?" he finally asked. A hopeful smile broke out on the spirit's face. Maybe he could convince him to see the truth through the haze of paranoia.

"Honestly, it wasn't my idea, but my friend down there, she told me I needed to go. A-and I thought... just maybe... you were looking for me," he admitted shyly, staring at the ground. He didn't like the way he could see through his own feet to the deck below.

Odysseus let out a shaky breath. "I knew it..." This was it!

"You really aren't the Polites I knew."

And just like that, the world came crashing down on him. His eyes were welling with tears fast.

"H-ho-how can you even say that?" he asked as he slowly sank to the floor.

"Because Polites wouldn't be so stupid as to think I'd risk the lives of my crew to rescue a dead man!" he screamed, spit flying from his lips with the passion of his outburst.

Polites took a step back: through the railing. He held his hands out in front of him, as if to protect him. But there's nothing to be protected from anymore. Nothing except the newfound cruelty of his old friend.

Tears threatened to spill over, but he blinked them away, shaking his head frantically. "Nonono, you don't really mean that. Y-you're just upset! Odysseus, please tell me you didn't mean it like that," he all but pleaded.

Odysseus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself short. He tried once more, but all he could muster was a simple, "I'm sorry." He hesitated before turning his back on him, marching off to patrol the ship.

Polites was left floating there, completely heartbroken by his reaction. Never in a million years would he have expected the venom shooting from Odysseus's mouth to be aimed at him of all people.

Polites let himself fade from reality, disappearing completely as he drifted up towards the crows nest. It had always been the most peaceful place on the ship, and tonight was no exception.

He floated on until he reached the top, sitting down in the tightest ball he could manage. He buried his face in his knees as sobs completely wracked his body.

Why would he say such horrible things? He knew he couldn't even begin to fathom how their journey's gone up until now, but it was hard to believe it would prompt such a dramatic change.

But the alternative; the idea that he had never truly know Odysseus, was a far worse thought.

He looked up at the dozens and dozens of stars stretching before him from every which way. He felt as if he were flying, falling up, spiraling out of control towards them. Would he be falling for an eternity? Or would the stars catch him in their net, allowing the darkness to swallow him whole and consume his soul?

How wonderful it must be, turning to stardust.

"Oh Eurydice... you were wrong. I never should've left." His voice was weak and strangled as he spoke, just as it had been in his final moments. He gasped through his sobs, swallowing the snot that rolled down his throat, making him shudder. His whole body shook with convulsions as he cried.

"They don't w-want me a-around anymore. I'm nothing b-but a f-freak to them," he spoke barely above a whisper, frantically wiping away tears and blood. He hung his head low in defeat and shame, "I should've just stayed in Hades with you."

"And she's what? Girlfriend, friend, come on fill me in," an unexpected voice rudely interrupted. Polites screeched in surprise, turning visible once more as he whipped around to meet the intruder. How the hell did someone climb up without a sound?

"If you'd like, I'll even give her a little message from you," the strange man smirked wider, twirling his long curly hair around a finger. Polites gasped and looked down to the man's feet just to be sure, and just as he thought: wings.

"Hermes? I-I'm sorry, but uh, what are you doing here, exactly?" he asked, his previous breakdown quickly replaced with confusion. Something he did not appreciate. He wanted, no needed to cry after all that. But even the Gods wanted him to suffer, it would seem.

"Well excuse you! Taking a page from the captain's book, I take?" he taunted before bursting into a fit of giggles. Polites stiffened and glared at the God.

"No. I'm just trying to mind my own business, can't you do the same?" he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. Hermes squinted in the dark and gasped when he recognized the man before him.

"You're his little dead friend, aren't you? The one that used to be cute," he clarified in a teasing manner.

Used to be cute... That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Hermes froze, mostly out of fear, when he first saw tears. "Um, what are you doing? Stop that," Hermes ordered, sitting on the edge of the crows nest. Polites looked at him in utter disbelief.

"I'm crying Hermes, what's it look like?" he snapped, and true enough, tears were once again rolling down his cheeks.

"Well, it's not a good look. Nope, doesn't suit you at all, really," he mused, looking the mortal up and down. Polites chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to be patient as he continued to glare.

"Oh really? And what, pray tell, would suit a face like this?" Polites asked bitterly, pointing at himself as he blinked back more tears.

"A smile, for one!" Hermes cheered, plopping down next to Polites and throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close. Polites squirmed and shoved him away angrily.

"Leave me alone! I don't want to smile, okay? There's nothing to smile about! And you know what? Yeah, I'll say it! I was happier in the underworld!" Polites screamed, not caring how loud he was. In fact, he hoped a certain captain with his head up his ass heard him. He hoped the guilt ate him alive.

Polites hated the fact that he didn't really feel that way, that he was self aware enough to know it was just his anger talking. Because once it blows over, he'll be the one wracked with guilt.

Hermes reeled back from his words, a hand flying up to cover his mouth as he gasped in shock.

"Oh Polites, you shouldn't say such a thing! I mean, what if the Gods themselves heard you? Ahahaha!" he threw his head back, cackling at his own joke.

"I don't care anymore! Clearly I don't belong here! I-I should've just stayed..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was such a touché subject," Hermes apologized, seemingly meaning it. Polites remained skeptical. "But I'm truly shocked by your little outburst. You were always the happy one, were you not? So what's changed?"

"Everything!" Polites cried. "Are you blind? How can you not see that everything's gone to shit?"

"Careful now, don't forget who you're talking to," he warned through pursed lips, trying to hide his growing amusement.

Polites sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry Hermes, sir, but I don't really care right now."

Hermes shook his head, a small frown etching its way onto his face. "Oh my, this really is worse than I thought," he muttered to himself, resting a hand on his cheek. Polites couldn't help but roll his eyes and turn away.

"Tell me something I don't know..."

Hermes sighed, staring at the back of his head with pity. "Odysseus can be... stubborn at the best of times. He'll come back around. You just have to show him that same, chipper, adorable Polites he knows and loves," he tried to encourage him.

"But that didn't work..." he said, voice shy and meek.

"Oh! Um, well then... keep at it!" he chirped, slapping a hand on his back.

Polites was more than ready to tell him to get lost, but the touch on his back stole away all of his attention. He turned to meet Hermes face to face, eyes wide in a mix of shock and excitement.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

Polites gestured at him wildly. "You just touched me! I mean like, actually touched me! I thought that was impossible!" Hermes opened his mouth to speak, but he rambled on, "Is that a God thing? Or can-"

"Shh, if you'll let me answer, I'll tell you!" he said before breaking off into giggles. Polites quickly shut up, hanging on his every word.

"It all comes down to intent. And, it works both ways. Here, shake my hand," he explained, offering holding it out for him to take. Polites looked at him skeptically before reaching out.

He tried to grasp his hand in his own, but phased completely through. "This is hopeless!" he whined in defeat. Hermes whistled and smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!" Polites yelped and flinched away, rubbing his head, more for show than anything. Hermes rolled his eyes at the dramatics.

"Oh please, I know that didn't hurt. Quit whining and try again." Polites grumbled under his breath, growing frustrated when he phased through once more.

"Try harder."

"I am!" he growled before taking a grounding breath. He tried again, and this time his hand firmly clasped around Hermes's wrist. A bright smile lit up his face as he met his gaze, "I-I did it!"

"Yeees, congratulations... You can let go now..." he prompted with a smirk.

"Sorry!" he immediately let go, yanking his arm back as if he'd been burned. Hermes chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"You're lucky it's me," he teased, breaking off into even more laughter. Polites couldn't help but giggle along with the infectious sound.

"I guess I am... So uh, t-thanks, for all that. I needed it."

"Desperately so," Hermes agreed. "But I single handedly saved the day, so you're welcome."

Polites snorted, "I wouldn't go that far, but you did make me feel a little better." Hermes cocked his head with an exaggerated pout.

"Aww, just a little? Are you sure about that?" he asked, and before he could answer, Hermes reached up to flutter a few fingers under his chin. Polites scrunched his neck with a barely choked back giggle, and the look he gave the messenger God was priceless. Hermes burst into hysterical giggles, flashing a sly grin his way, "Like I said Polites, it all comes down to intent."

He fished around in his bag, pulling out a gold drachma. "Catch," he said, tossing the coin his way. Polites reached out, snatching it in the air. Hermes gave an impressed grin, nodding in approval. "I expect you to practice. 'Til we meet again, ta-ta!" he waved farewell, hopping up on the edge of the crows nest and stepped off backwards. He swooped up in a backflip, definitely showing off as he flew away.

Polites stared at the coin in his hand, smiling softly. Maybe things would turn out okay.

~~~

Things always seemed better in the morning, Polites told himself. In the light of day, he would have a fresh start, a unique perspective. He just needed everyone else to come to terms with their new normal. So he went about the day like any other, floating down to the deck when the crew was called for breakfast.

He saw the few men spread out across two long mess tables, and he quickly spotted Eurylochus. He smirked and turned invisible, making his way over to him. He waited until he reached for his glass, and Polites placed his hand atop the cup, preventing it from being lifted.

Eurylochus stared at the cup with furrowed brows, giving it another tug. It barely budged under his hold. He looked around the table at the men around him, wondering if they had something to do with this. A few began to take notice and were just as confused as he was.

"Having a bit of trouble this morning?" Elpenor teased from across the table.

"Haha very funny," he said sarcastically, tugging on his glass one more time. Polites didn't fight back, and water splashed right in his friend's face. Anyone seated around Eurylochus had ended up in the splash zone as well.

The men who got drenched cried out angrily while everyone else erupted in wild laughter, and Polites joined them. But his laugh was loud and distinct, and a sound Eurylochus knew all too well.

He froze looked around the room, glaring at thin air. "Polites? Was that you?" he dared to ask. The unruly crowd suddenly grew silent, unsure if they wanted an answer. Then, a fork launched off of a plate, spinning in the air before it clattered to the table. Excited screams and cries broke out as some gathered around the fork, while the rest scattered as far away as possible.

"You think it really is him?"

"He answered us, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but what if it's a trick?"

"You're all playing with fire!

Not everyone was swayed, but it certainly planted the idea in their minds.

Polites liked pulling off these small, ghostly pranks. Mostly because, to him, it felt like magic. Just focus, and you can turn invisible. Focus even harder, and you can make things move. He had his favorite tricks of course: a self rowing oar, a lone mop swabbing the deck, but the funniest thing was when he'd hold something behind someone, only to hide it as soon as they turned around. And his audience seemed more than amused by all of this.

Up until the moment he decides to show his face again. Then it's all hushed whispers and adverted gazes, even from his best friends.

Elpenor frantically looked around his room for his other sandal. It had just been there a second ago, but now only one remained.

"O-okay, very funny. Now give it back," he demanded. He gasped and went stiff when he felt the mattress sink next to him, as if someone sat next to him. The temperature shifted.

"Looking for this?"

Elpenor chanced a glance in his direction. His missing sandal dangled from a mostly transparent hand. He gulped.

"Yes."

He reached for his shoe, but it was yanked out of reach at the last second, and again when he made another grab for it.

"Give it!"

"Then look at me!"

The request took Elpenor off guard. Polites sounded... desperate and sad. He had to look, no matter what the captain said. He wasn't here anyways.

He hesitated, but ultimately caved and looked at Polites. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.

Polites was smirking at him, a warm look in his glazed eyes. Yeah, he didn't look the same, but he still looked like himself. A sob caught in Elpenor's throat.

He snatched his sandal without warning, quickly lacing them up before rushing out of the room.

~~~

"I don't get it Eurylochus. Are they really that afraid of me?" Polites asked after five days of strategic avoidance from everyone on board. He took a deep breath, thinking about how he'd answer the question.

"Maybe so." Polites scoffed and looked him up and down.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, deciding to put him on the spot. He stiffened, keeping his gaze trained on the floor, and he didn't speak. Polites deflated, "I knew it."

"Polites, trust me, it isn't like that," he tried in vein to reassure him.

"Oh please. None of you can even look at me," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Have you even seen yourself?" Eurylochus barked back, going on the defensive immediately. Polites floated a little lower to the ground, bottom lip trembling.

"Polites, wait-"

"No, no, I get it. I wouldn't want me around either."

Eurylochus had to force himself not to roll his eyes at the theatrics on display. This was typical for Odysseus, but Polites?

"I didn't mean it like that."

He looked up at him, and for the first time outside of battle, Eurylochus saw him look truly upset.

"There's not many other ways to take it, Eurylochus..."

Neither dared to speak for a long time. Polites took a shaky breath and finally broke the silence. "I guess I'll be seeing you around. But... you don't have to worry about seeing me," his voice sounded weak and strangled.

"Wait I'm-" Eurylochus spun around to stop his friend, but he was left alone on the deck. "Sorry..." he finished lamely, dropping his arm by his side.

He flinched when a hand squeezed his shoulder, but immediately relaxed after the initial surprise.

"It's okay, really. I-I think it's for the best if no one sees me for a while," he said, and despite being invisible, Eurylochus could hear the emotion in his voice.

"Are you sure?"

"M-mhm. I think if I stay, it'll just make things worse."

Eurylochus stared at the empty space the voice was coming from. "If you say so..." he reluctantly caved.

Barely anyone had seen Polites since. Sure, he made his presence known in other ways, and most of the crew seemed better off for it. But that's what hurt the most: he'd been right. Eurylochus was wracked with guilt, knowing it was their own reactions that drove him away. Even worse still, their captain didn't seem to care at all. In fact, it only seemed to upset him more with every interaction Polites attempted.

He stood behind Odysseus as he steered the ship. The men were gathered below deck for meal time, leaving the two of them alone for a rare moment.

"I know you're there."

"You should go down there. You need to eat too, y'know."

Odysseus couldn't help but roll his eyes. "What, and let you take the wheel?" Polites furrowed his brows.

"Would that really be so bad? I handled her plenty of times!"

"No, the real Polites did!" he snapped. For once, Polites snapped back, refusing to back down.

"I AM THE REAL POLITES!" he screamed, on the verge of tears. Odysseus merely gave him a cold, empty stare.

"Maybe if you were the first one we ran into down there, I could believe you," he admitted in defeat. There was something a softness behind his eyes that hadn't been there before, his shoulders heavy with grief.

"What will it take?"

"Huh?"

"Tell me what it'll take to prove myself," he pleaded.

They stared at each other for a long moment, seconds passing by in silence. "I don't think you can."

Polites refused to let it end like this.

"Your favorite color is red," he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Odysseus froze and turned to face him, a puzzled expression in place. He locked eyes with him and continued, "And your favorite food is Penelope's stew with fresh baked bread."

By now, Odysseus knew what he was trying to do, so he quickly closed his eyes in hopes of drowning him out. "Don't."

"You have a mole on your shoulder that looks like a comet, a-and you like sunsets more than sunrises, and you used to go pick flowers for Penelo-"

"Please, for the love of the Gods, just shut up!" he cut him off harshly. Polites snapped his mouth shut, obeying the command. Odysseus slowly opened his eyes and stared at his friend. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked as tears finally spilled down his cheeks.

"I just want you to believe me," Polites insisted. Odysseus shook his head.

"I told you, I can't-"

"WHAT WILL IT TAKE?" he repeated, voice straining against crushed vocal chords. He was crying, and he didn't care if he was shouting. "You say you can't believe me, but you don't give me a fucking reason! And you won't tell me how I can win your trust back, and I just- I don't know what you want from me."

Odysseus thought long and hard about his answer. "I wish I could tell you."

"Then why don't you?" he pleaded.

Odysseus avoided looking directly at him, choosing instead to stare at a crack in the wall just over his shoulder. It was insulting how he thought Polites wouldn't notice.

"I don't know." Then, as if to add insult to injury, he marched straight ahead, walking right through Polites. It was just another way for Odysseus to assert the fact that he wasn't really "there." To prove to himself that he was right. And that hurt more than it had any right to.

But he was nothing if not persistent. When it became clear that Odysseus wasn't looking for a conversation, he thought maybe a few light hearted pranks were just what he needed to jog his memory, to open his fucking eyes and see that he was right there.

Polites could've sworn he saw him smile when he noticed the way he was making his cape billow behind him. The old Odysseus was still in there somewhere, no matter how hard he may be hiding.

But he was still more than skeptical.

~~~

Odysseus was making his way down to his quarters when he felt someone step on the back of his sandal. He turned around in annoyance, ready to chew out the culprit, but he was alone. He thought nothing of it and continued on his way. Then it happened again.

Odysseus sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. "That you?" he asked in a disgruntled tone.

"What, can't even say my name?" he sassed in order to hide his true nerves when confronting his friend. He appeared behind him, arms crossed.

"Not sure it's really yours to say," he countered easily, the retort sliding off his tongue with ease. The smile he flashed him was cocky and vindictive; nothing like the way he used to grin at him.

Polites decided to go out on a limb and risk it, "Why are you so adamant it's not me?"

"Because if something's too good to be true, it is. But you know all about that, don't you?" he spat, words laced with poison. No, no, there was no way he was talking about that.

"Captain? What do you mean?"

"Oh I think you know," he said darkly. Polites didn't dare to answer. He only shook his head.

"The sheep, Polites. I'm talking about the sheep."

Polites couldn't believe his ears. He sucked in a sharp, shuttering breath in shock. "A-are you trying to say it's my fault that I was killed?" he asked in complete and utter disbelief.

"... If that's how you wanna take it."

He had no hope of fighting off the tears welling in his eyes.

"H-how can you be so- so cruel? It was a mistake!" he pleaded.

"Yeah? Well that mistake cost you your life! And not just your life! You think you can greet world with open arms, but you just can't. Only the strongest survive. And that's why I'm still here, and you're not."

The tears rolled fat and heavy down his cheeks, drawing clean streaks through the blood and grime smeared on his face.

"I-if that's how you r-really f-feel, then fine! B-be that way!" Polites was a blubbering mess as he tried to speak, and he couldn't stand it. He balled his hands into fists by his sides, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as possible. "Y-you'll never have to see me again, if that's what you really want!" he screamed back, allowing his own hurt and anger to boil out of him.

"Good!" Odysseus snapped, completely exasperated.

Polites was frozen in shock. "I don't even know you anymore..." he whispered, mostly to himself. Odysseus glared harder before he turned his back on him, marching down the hall to his cabin and slammed the door behind him. Polites was left alone in the room, feeling hollow and hurt.

Polites took a shaky breath. Why bother to fight a losing battle?

~~~

If barely anyone had seen Polites in the days prior, then he must have made himself truly scarce after his last confrontation with the captain. The playful, if unexplained, shenanigans were no more, and the crew fell back into their monotonous routine.

But remaining invisible for so long takes its toll, and he needs his moments of peace and quiet. And so, the crew took notice of the man sitting alone in the crows nest, his presence never faltering. At least this way, he can still be of some use to the crew while completely isolating himself.

By now, Polites hadn't moved from the crows nest in over a week. Even his practice with the coin was getting weaker. He sat with his knees pressed to his chest, desperately trying to shove the drachma across the planks. His finger phased through, making no impact on the piece of gold.

"How have you possibly gotten more pathetic than the last time we met?"

Fucking great.

[babyblue711]

Redemption

Will (Salad Days) x Reader - Part 4 Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Summary: You and Will take a weekend getaway to Manchester and enjoy some time away from home. You reconnect once more, deepening your bond after the hardships you've been through together. Words: 6.0K

Warnings: NSFW, smut, language, sexual content (18+), anal fingering, alcohol, brief mention of divorce A/N: Alas, the final chapter. When I set out to write this fic, I only intended it as a one-shot and never expected it to turn into 4 chapters! After the trauma that I've made you all endure for the last 3 parts, enjoy something a little more light-hearted. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU ALL for loving this fic as much as I do. I sincerely appreciate it so much. My beta's are incredible: @megatardisbaby and @arcielee. And thank you to @assortedseaglass for letting me pick your brain and for encouraging me to tell this story from day one. Dividers by @firefly-graphic

The lighting in your hotel bathroom casts a warm glow as you focus on your reflection in the mirror, pleased with the way your hair cascades into perfect curls, framing your face elegantly. You'd spent a bit of extra time getting ready for tonight and the effort showed. As you apply the final touches of mascara, the door creaks open and Will peeks in, checking to see if you are close to being ready yet.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you see him standing there. You can’t help but appreciate how handsome he looks in his dark green button up shirt with long sleeves and black trousers; his tousled hair added a hint of casual charm to his otherwise polished appearance. It was the last night of your short weekend getaway to Manchester and you were splurging by going to a nice restaurant; you made sure he packed the proper clothes so he could dress the part. 

He leans against the doorframe and admires you in the mirror, eyes drinking in your appearance. 

“Like what you see?” you tease playfully. As you look at him in the mirror, you swear his blue eyes turn a shade or two darker, lust pooling in his pupils. 

“I definitely do,” his voice is a little huskier than usual as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to place a kiss on your neck, sending a delightful shiver up your spine. 

You move your head to the side to allow him better access to your neck; you’re still wearing your towel from your shower since you prefer to do your hair and makeup first and get dressed last. He trails kisses down your neck and along your shoulder as he reaches for your towel, opening it and finding nothing on underneath. 

“Is this how you’re going to dinner? Naked wrapped in a towel?” he asks cheekily, his lips still on your neck as his hands start to slide over your hips and up your sides. 

Your breath catches in your chest as the heat from his hands running across your ribs seems to radiate right to your core and you make an effort to remember your dinner reservations; you need to focus on getting ready so you wouldn’t be late. But his touch is addictive, the best drug you’ve ever had. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you too as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and reaches for your slit, his chin now resting on your shoulder; you both watch in the mirror as he runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly, sensually. Your heavily lidded eyes flick up to meet his gaze as you let out a soft moan. 

“How ‘bout a quickie before dinner?” he murmurs in your ear, playing with your bud as his other hand removes your towel completely and starts to caress your breasts.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you watch him touch you and you sigh softly. “Yes, but we gotta make it fast.”

“Can do,” he says before spinning you around and lifting you easily onto the bathroom counter. You worry briefly about his clothes since he’s already dressed for dinner and you don’t want to ruin them as he pulls his thick cock out, which is already standing proudly, veins popping, head weeping. He pulls his pants to his thighs and you lift his shirt to keep it out of the way. 

You sit at the edge and spread your legs for him, leaning back towards your elbows, the marble of the countertop cold on your ass. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’ll have to do as Will takes the head of his cock and lines it up with your entrance, sheathing it inside of you in one fluid thrust. 

You both groan in unison; you as his thick cock stretches your wet, velvet walls, almost to the point of pain, and Will, as your tight, warm pussy squeezes around him, enveloping him completely. He stills for a moment and his lips move to your breasts, alternating between each nipple as he takes them into his mouth and sucks lightly, while his other hand slides down to play with your pearl. You run your fingers through his hair as his tongue tantalizes your nipples. 

He bites down and sucks gently on the skin of your breast causing you to arch further into his face. Your head falls back and hits the mirror; a dull gong sound filling the small bathroom space and you press your lips together to keep from chuckling. Will seems oblivious as he starts to rock his hips into you and sets a steady pace. From your propped-up position on the counter, you can see his long, thick cock gliding in and out of you, glistening with your juices. Fascinated, you sit up a little more to get a better view.

“Like what you see?” Will echoes your earlier question gruffly as he notices you watching.

“Hmm,” you half purr, half moan in response and decide to give him a little squeeze with your pussy, purposefully clenching your walls around his cock as hard as you can; his thrusts stutter a bit as his eyes flick up to yours and you smirk at him.  

“Fuckin’ hell woman,” he growls, voice deep and low and picks up his pace, snapping his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping together and squelching noises from your wet core fill the bathroom. 

You mewl and lean back again, the pleasure building deep from within as Will continues his brutal pace, his thumb moving to circle your pearl furiously. You close your eyes and get lost in the sensation of him moving deep inside of you, filling you up, his cock grinding consistently against your g-spot with every thrust; you concentrate to bring your pleasure forth, knowing you have limited time to reach your peak. Your breathing starts to pick up as your orgasm approaches; Will hears the difference in your breath and begins encouraging you, knowing that you’re close. 

“You have the most beautiful little cunt I’ve ever seen,” he growls through gritted teeth as he feels your walls start to pulse around him, “Taking me so well. C’mon, Y/N, cum for me,” he grunts as he pistons his hips into yours.

His relentless thrusts tip you over the edge and you cry aloud with his name on your lips as pleasure rips through your core; your legs tremble from the force of your orgasm and your arms shake from holding yourself in this position. A visible ripple moves in the muscles of your lower belly as your pussy clenches around his cock; Will watches in fascination how your body shakes and quivers under him as you come undone. 

He continues to pound into you, extending your pleasure with every deep thrust against your sensitive walls. When you finally stop shaking and lay limp, he pulls out and paints your belly with his spend.

You both are breathing heavily as he gets the wet washcloth from the shower to clean you up. You watch him wipe you clean as you try to catch your breath, admiring the way he always takes care of you afterwards. Focused on his task, he doesn’t seem to notice your gaze. Once you’re clean, he leans down and kisses your clit, the gesture making you jump as little as his lips brush against your sensitive core.

He then leans up to give you a light kiss on the lips. “I love it when you scream my name,” he mumbles against your mouth and you can’t help but smile into his kiss. 

“How much time do we have left, Will?” you ask as he picks you up off the counter and sets you back on the floor. 

He checks his watch. “About 10 minutes,” he says with a grin, knowing you need at least double that to finish getting ready.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath as you hurry out of the bathroom to get dressed, leaving Will to tuck himself back into his pants and straighten his own clothes.

You sit across from Will at dinner, feeling pride that you managed to make your reservation on time and reminisce about your trip together. The soft candlelight casts a warm glow around you, creating an intimate setting for your meal; it was certainly the nicest restaurant you had been to in some time. 

Will seems a little out of his element, but he seems to be taking it in stride. You smile a little to yourself as you watch him as he looks over the menu, knowing he’d prefer a simple meal of fish and chips or a hamburger compared to anything written there. You sigh in contentment; you were right to think that a trip would have done you both good. Getting away from home and work was refreshing, a break that was long overdue for you both. 

Although touristy, you both had enjoyed taking a boat trip along the city’s historic canals and exploring the Northern Quarter, known for its architecture, street art, unique boutiques and quirky cafes. You loved being able to explore the city together with Will and you were pleased that the two of you traveled well together; he was the relaxed, easy-going one, ready to do anything on a whim, whereas you were the one with the checklist to make sure you saw all the things that you wanted to see and ensuring you had the proper reservations and arrival time…unless sex took precedence, of course. 

You order with the waiter and sip your glass of wine while you and Will discuss memories from the last few days. He looks so handsome in the low light and you were thankful you managed not to ruin his button down shirt since he had only brought one with him, the glint of his silver necklace is just visible around his collar. His hair is a little ruffled from when you ran your fingers through it during your quickie, but the look suits him well. You reach under the table and rub your high heeled foot up and down his leg; his eyes immediately snap to yours and you smirk as you take another sip of wine, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re insatiable,” he growls lowly so the other diners can’t hear, his eyes dancing in amusement. 

“Oh…you have no idea,” you promise seductively and raise your foot to brush his inner thigh, thankful that the floor length white tablecloth hid what you were doing to him under the table. He shifts a little in his seat as your foot brushes along the sensitive part of his thigh and he grabs hold of your ankle to stop your movements further, giving you a “behave or else” type of look, his eyes glinting with amused malice. You grin in satisfaction at your small victory and remove your foot from his thigh.

Perhaps it was the distance from all the pain and trauma that came from being home in Nottingham, but you and Will had gotten back on track with your sex life during your trip, acting like ravenous, horny teenagers from the amount of times you had coupled in the last few days. You were well satisfied but, with him, it would never be enough.

After dinner, you walk hand in hand back towards the hotel. As you pass by, the vibrance of Canal St. catches your attention and you can’t help but pull Will along behind you, wanting to explore. The pedestrian street is crowded as you stroll by sophisticated cocktail lounges and lively dance clubs pulsating with music. The atmosphere thrums with energy and excitement and you can’t help but feel caught up in it all, helped along with the bottle of wine you and Will had consumed at dinner. Although neither of you were really “nightlife” or “club-going” people anymore, you spot a cute and cozy pub as you make your way toward Richmond St and you convince Will to stop in for one last drink before heading back into the hotel for the night.

Stepping into the bar, you find yourself instantly captivated by its charm. The soft, warm glow of dim lighting casts a welcoming ambiance over the wooden interior, giving it an inviting and intimate feel. The clinking of glasses and lively conversations of the other patrons create a soft hum in the background. You and Will approach the bar and order a drink and you notice a live band is setting up, getting ready to play for the evening. Once you have your drinks in hand, you find a comfy corner to snuggle into where you can observe the band and people-watch easily.

Sipping your drinks, you both enjoy the live band as you watch couples engage in animated conversations and groups of friends laughing and toasting. Not long after your arrival, a commotion comes through the door, slightly disrupting the relaxed atmosphere of the bar. 

A loud and excitable hen-do party bustles into the cozy pub and makes their way to the bar. The bride is dressed in white while her bridesmaids were all in pink dresses with sashes, marking them as part of the bridal party. They obviously had come from nearby Canal St. which is normally the more popular area for hen-dos. They must have been bar-hopping for some time before stopping into this particular pub, as the volume of their voices, stumbling feet, and constant laughter was an obvious giveaway that they were all quite drunk.

Once they’ve been served, they choose to sit down not far from you and Will, but they seem a little more reserved once they’ve been sat with their drinks, talking cheerily amongst themselves. After the next song, you get up to use the restroom, passing by the group of girls on your way. 

When you head back to your seat, you notice the table where the girls were sitting is empty except for the bride and one other bridesmaid, and, as you look over in your corner that you had shared with Will, you don’t see him there either. Concerned, your eyes scan the room and quickly find him standing at the bar, surrounded by three of the bridesmaids from the group. 

You figure he must have just gotten up to get you both another drink, but you hesitate for a moment, watching him surrounded by these girls. Drunk and rowdy, they have long since stopped worrying about other people’s personal space as one of them is quite literally hanging off his left arm, looking up at him with big doe-eyes, another is standing directly behind him, almost as if she’s trying to box him in, and a third is on his right side, pressing her back up against the tall bar and arching her voluptuous tits right into his face. 

You’re momentarily stunned to see these girls hanging all over your man. Ordinarily, you weren’t the jealous type, but in this moment, you couldn’t help but think, What the fuck? Why wasn’t Will telling them to get off him?

You continue to watch him, debating whether you need to step in or not, as you see him smile and speak to the girl hanging on his arm as she swings her long, chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, and your heartbeat picks up a little. His body language is a little stiff at their proximity, but he certainly isn’t telling them to move.

You decide to go back to your corner and watch him from afar as you resume your seat and cross your arms, glaring in his direction. They are all talking to him animatedly and you see his head nodding and moving, indicating he is interacting back. Suddenly, the girl with the big tits reaches for his collar, pulling his silver necklace from underneath his shirt and holding it in her palm. Your eyes widen as you gape at her audacity of the intimate gesture, and you almost get up to give her a piece of your mind. Before you can move, Will pulls away from her, gently taking his pendant from her grasp and putting it back in his shirt as he shakes his head a little, just as the bartender sets two drinks down in front of him. 

The girl on the left seems to notice the two drinks and you see her lips move as she asks him something and he nods back in your direction, briefly making eye contact with you. You see all three girls turn to look at you and you return their look with an icy glare of your own. Their faces fall noticeably as Will finally manages to shrug them off and heads back to your corner with the drinks.

He seems oblivious to the tension rolling off of you in waves as he sets your drink down in front of you. A small smile plays on his lips and he seems lost in thought, pleased about something. He takes his seat and glances up at you, finally taking in your expression and the stiff way you have your arms folded across your chest. 

“Enjoying the attention?” you say in a dangerous tone, eyes full of fire; although you do secretly acknowledge that the alcohol you had consumed that night might be fueling your ire a little more than usual, given the situation. 

“Wha’?” he seems confused and instantly you feel a prick of annoyance at having to explain the obvious. 

You lean in close so he can hear you over the boom of the band as they start up another song. “Those girls were practically hanging off of you,” you yell into his ear. “And you let them…and what’s up with that one with the big tits grabbing your necklace?!” you say all annoyed, glaring at him reproachfully.

“One had big tits?” Will asks genuinely, looking at you with clueless big eyes. You give him a stern look, how could he not have noticed? 

“They’re just drunk and having fun. It didn’t mean anything...I didn’t want to be rude,” he shrugs like nothing happened.

“Oh really? What did they say to you?” you ask because you’re nosy and you want to know more. 

He shifts in his seat, a tad uncomfortable now. “Well…they didn’t know I was with you obviously, but they came up to me and weren’t shy about wanting me to go back to their place for the night,” he refuses to meet your gaze for a moment as he sips his drink. 

You glare daggers at him and he finally looks over at you and smirks, his demeanor smug. He leans back over to shout into your ear over the sound of the music.

“C’mon, love, you’re better than this. Don’t be jealous over a bunch of drunk girls,” he says into your ear, his hand coming up to cup your face sweetly, “If anything, they are jealous of you, since you’re the one I’ll be fucking later tonight.” 

Although still slightly perturbed at their boldness, you feel your icy glare melt under his warm gaze as you absorb his words. You relent, smirking a little as you look back over to their table. They’ve moved on to another group of guys at the bar who seem way more eager to have their attention than Will did a few minutes ago. You take a deep breath and realize you made it more serious than it actually was, although you were also still a little annoyed at the pleased look that Will had worn from their attention.

You turn back to him and look up into his eyes. He leans in and gives you a kiss, soft but firm, that you return eagerly, enjoying his rare display of PDA. “Finish your drink and we’ll go,” he says, “I didn’t mean to upset you,” his gaze is apologetic.  

You sigh, “It’s okay, Will,” you lean in for another quick kiss. 

Perhaps you were spurred on by the alcohol you had consumed that night, or maybe you just wanted to antagonize the bridal party that kept looking back at you in the corner. But after he breaks the kiss, he takes a sip of beer and you use the opportunity to lean into him, your lips on his neck, just below his ear, hand reaching in between his thighs and rubbing his crotch provocatively. In the low light, you figured it would be difficult to see exactly what you were doing to him anyway, but you didn’t care. He almost chokes on his beer at your unexpected touch, immediately grabbing your hand, holding it safely in his grasp.

“Well, you better hurry because I’m already wet,” you say seductively into his ear, knowing which buttons to push to drive him wild. You lean away, watching your touch and your words take the intended effect on Will almost immediately.  

His gaze burns into yours, his eyes darkening as he watches you take two large gulps of your cocktail, rushing on purpose and giving him a look that simply says hurry up.

Not needing any more encouragement than that, he chugs his beer and finishes the same time you polish off your drink. You get up, barely able to keep your hands off of each other. You don’t even glance at the bridal party as you leave with him, hand in hand. What did they matter after all?  

Stumbling through the door of your hotel room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp welcomes you back warmly from your night out on the town. You can't help but smile as you continue your passionate embrace with Will, the electric energy between you both is palpable. The earlier touches and kisses in the elevator were just a prelude to what you knew was coming next. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the intoxicating pleasure of being with each other. 

Your lips meet again, hungry and eager, as your tongues battle for dominance against the other. You can taste the beer on his breath and the cigarette he had on the way back to the hotel. He takes your face in both of his hands and pushes you up against the wall, his body leans into yours, trapping you. Your hands reach down to pull out his shirt that’s tucked into his pants, reaching for his belt, impatient as always. 

He suddenly removes his hands from your face and reaches to clasp yours that are now working to undo the top button of his pants. He takes your wrists in each hand and pulls them above your head, pressing his body into you further, grinding his pelvis into you. You already feel how hard and ready he is, the slick forming between your thighs as you grind back against him. You moan into his mouth, his tongue sliding over yours, tasting the sweet taste of your cocktail on your lips.

He grasps both of your wrists easily with one hand, still held above your head, and his other hand travels down your body, pulling up your dress until his fingers find your damp center.

You moan into his touch and spread your legs a little as he moves your panties to the side, his fingers sliding over your wet folds. He suddenly inserts a finger inside of you, sending electric sparks up your spine as he languidly moves his finger in and out of you, watching your face with heavily hooded eyes. Your breathing picks up as he adds a second finger, reaching deep inside for that special spot, crooking his fingers as he easily finds your g-spot and rubs it repeatedly. 

You pant into his mouth and your knees buckle as the pleasure of his touch courses through you; the only thing truly holding you up is his grip on your wrists and his body pressing you into the wall. He grunts into your kiss as you bite down on his bottom lip, continuing to work his fingers inside of you, lewd noises from your soaked pussy filling the room. You love it when his fingers are deep inside of you, his only goal being to focus on your pleasure. Your orgasm starts to build and your knees buckle further, your legs have become jelly as your pending release coils low in your belly. 

“Please, Will,” you beg into his mouth, he knows you won’t be able to stand by yourself if your orgasm hits you while being trapped against this accursed wall. He relents, removing his offending fingers from your pussy, still holding you against the wall with one hand as he brings his fingers covered in your slick up to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Hmm,” he groans, low in his throat, “you always taste so fucking delicious.” Your breath catches in your throat and more slick forms between your thighs as you watch him savoring your taste on his fingers. 

Once he lets go of your wrists, you immediately kick off your shoes; your heels are making your feet hurt. You walk over to the bed, pulling your hair to the side.

“Unzip me,” you say softly as Will has now kicked off his own shoes, coming to stand behind you. He undoes the little cinch and slowly slides the zipper down; the dress falls to the floor by your feet and you kick it off to the side.

His fingers effortlessly undo the clasp of your bra and you pull your panties off while he takes off his shirt and you turn to help him out of his trousers. He still has his boxers on while you’re completely naked. 

He turns you back around to face the bed, still standing. His warm body presses into your back and he slides his hands up your hips and over your ribs, caressing your breasts with both hands as his lips find your neck and shoulder. You moan and lean back into him, arching your chest up into his hands as he alternates between rolling your nipples between his fingers and kneading your breasts. 

Impatient with lust singing in your veins, you climb onto the bed, turning back around to face Will and laying on your belly on the bed facing him. You are eye-level with his cock as you pull down his boxers and take him in hand. 

You hear his breath hitch as your small hand pumps him a few times, swiping your thumb over the sensitive head. You suckle at his cock eagerly, licking and coating it in saliva before taking him completely in your wet, hot mouth. Will grunts in pleasure as you swirl your tongue over the tip, you try taking him as far as you can. He lets out a groan and suddenly thrusts into you until the head hits the back of your throat. You choke a little and give him an admonishing look. 

He smirks down at you. “Is there something you’d like to say?” he whispers darkly as he thrusts into your mouth once more, gentler this time; he’s antagonizing you, knowing you can’t answer with your mouth full of him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, “I know you can take this cock,” he says as he continues fucking your mouth. 

Well two can play this game, you think wickedly to yourself and a muffled chuckle escapes your lips despite your full mouth. You moan around his length, pulling him out of your mouth until only the sensitive tip is left. Very gently, you brush your teeth against the tip and shaft as you work your way back down. 

You hear his breath catch at the sensation of your teeth on his cock and you look up at him innocently, giving him a I’m the one that has you by the balls type of look; you reach and cup his balls just for emphasis, massaging gently. 

He grunts and backs away from you, pulling his cock out of your mouth. His gaze is dark as you sit up on the bed, but before you can move, he’s sweeping you to the middle of the bed, pushing your face into the fluffy, white comforter and bringing your ass in the air.

You smile into the sheets; you knew this was a small punishment of sorts for assuming control of him for a moment, but you didn’t care; you would take all that he gave you and still want more. Plus, doggy was one of your favorite positions. Will is kneeling behind you and you spread your legs apart and arch your back, waiting for his large cock to fill you up.

Instead, you feel a stinging slap to your rear end and you yelp in surprise, your head coming up off the bed. He pushes you back down as he rubs his palm over the sore spot, soothing it. 

“That,” Will pants, “is punishment for what you just did with your teeth.” All you can manage is a moan in response. You feel his cock at your entrance and he pushes inside, shallowly thrusting until he buries himself to the hilt, immersing himself completely inside your tight, wet cunt. 

You whimper pitifully, the angle of this position causing him to rub against your g-spot almost immediately as you relish the feeling of him deep inside of you, filling you up, two puzzle pieces becoming one again.  

He stills for a moment before landing another blow on your behind, harder this time, and you yelp again, sucking in a sharp breath. 

“And that is for being jealous over nothing,” he growls, grabbing you by the back of the hair, dragging your body up so you’re flush against his body, your neck pulled back, held by your hair.

“You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna love every second of it,” he purrs into your ear as he starts thrusting harshly into you, pumping in and out of you. You mewl pathetically, lost in the sensation of his hold on your hair, the feeling of his thick cock moving deep inside you; your mind becomes hazy with lust and desire and you love it when he takes control. 

His hips snap into yours harshly for a few moments and then he unexpectedly slows, letting go of your hair; you fall back onto your elbows as you feel him pull apart your ass cheeks, bringing his cock almost all the way out to the tip and then driving back into you slowly. You know he’s watching himself slide in and out of your tight, wet hole and you’re a little envious that he’s the only one that gets to enjoy the view. You groan in pleasure at the thought. 

“I love watching your pussy take this dick.” He’s extra talkative tonight, alcohol loosening his tongue more than usual as he continues his slow deep thrusts, driving you crazy since you normally crave a faster pace with more friction. Suddenly, you feel pressure on your rim, an area you and Will haven’t explored yet. You jerk at the unexpected sensation and look back, where he smirks confidently at you. 

“I think you can take a finger,” he says and you watch him spit directly onto your asshole, his thumb massaging around it. 

“Will, I swear to god, you have to go slow,” you finally find your voice; you’re down to try anything but that wasn’t what you were expecting for tonight. You reach down and start playing with your clit, Will still moving his cock slowly in and out of you, his thumb pressing down on your rim.

He takes your warning seriously, “If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop,” he says softly, a break in his dominant facade. You nod, knowing Will would never hurt you.

Between the pleasure of your stimulated clit and Will rocking consistently against your g-spot, you don’t notice any pain as he ever so slowly inserts his thumb into your puckered hole. He adds more spit as he presses in until he’s knuckle deep.

“How’s that?” he asks, checking in.

It’s certainly an odd sensation but you feel pleasantly full, having felt no pain. You find it erotic, feeling Will’s thick cock stretching your pussy and his thumb pressed into your ass; you love the way Will consumes every part of you, body and soul.

You moan, desire coursing through you, “Oh my god, Will, that’s so good.” He picks up the pace with his thrusts again as you circle your clit furiously, pleasure building deep within. 

Hips snapping into yours, your orgasm builds low in your belly and you moan loudly with each thrust as his cock rubs along your g-spot. 

“So. Fucking. Tight,” Will grunts with each thrust, sending you closer to the edge. “Why would I want any other pussy when I have yours?” he says almost to himself. 

You groan louder, “Harder, Will, I need more,” you beg him pathetically. 

He responds by pounding into you so hard he pushes you up the bed. You anchor your elbows down as he drives relentlessly into you, wiggling his thumb a little within your tight, puckered hole, his other hand on your hip in a bruising grip to keep you still. 

You both are panting harshly as he fucks you, hard, just like you asked. Your breathing turns ragged as the coil finally snaps and your orgasm breaks over you like a tsunami wave, pleasure crashing through you, completely consumed by the intensity as it infiltrates every particle of your body. Your pussy clenches down on his cock and you cry aloud, wailing as he continues to thrust into you. 

Will rides out your pleasure until you stop shaking and mewling underneath him, pulling out and spilling his seed directly onto your asshole. Panting heavily, he spreads your cheeks apart and admires the sight of your throbbing, well-fucked pussy and his cum on your ass.

“Took me like a champ,” he says under his breath, squeezing your ass cheeks one final time before finally letting you go as you collapse onto the bed. He collapses next to you and you both spend a few minutes panting and catching your breath, before he gets up to get a towel. 

You hear the water turn on in the sink and decide to follow him to the bathroom, not caring if his cum leaks out of your ass along the way.

He’s washing his hands when you come in and glances up, surprise reflected in his expression in the mirror. Without saying anything, you stand behind him and wrap your arms around his middle from behind, hugging him, both of you still completely naked as you press your cheek against his warm back.

He finishes washing and drying his hands and rubs your arms that are clasped around his stomach.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Everything okay?”

He turns in your arms so that you’re face to face and he embraces you back as you look up and meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say simply, you can’t really convey what you’re feeling at the moment, but all you know is how grateful and lucky you are to have someone like him. You never expected to ever find anyone suitable again after your divorce and reconnecting with him was truly such a blessing.

He looks down into your face and your serious expression. “For what?” he asks.

“For loving me,” you say quietly into his chest as you press your cheek against his cross pendant. 

He snorts softly in disbelief. “It’s me that should be thanking you for loving me,” he says sincerely as he rests his chin on top of your head and hugs you closer.

You swallow thickly, you don’t want to cry in this moment, but he just means so much to you. 

“Always,” you mumble into his chest hair and he kisses the top of your head.  

You didn’t know what the universe had in store for you and Will. But as you stood there in that bathroom, you knew that you were right where you were meant to be.

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @aemondsscar @pandemonium105 @cyeco13 @chainsawsangel @sylas-the-grim @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @myfandomprompts

[strawberryfloofs]

Lights Out (CG Sun and Moon x Little Reader) (part 1/3)

You didn’t really know how you got to this point, but eventually you made it to Superstar Daycare all by yourself, even with your baby brain! The colorful slide welcomed you with big letters as you decided to slide down, giggling as you landed in the ballpit and a certain sun-themed animatronic jumped off his stage! “New friend! Hello there! What are you doing here? It’s been so long since we’ve seen a new kiddo!” Sundrop picked you up, tilting his head with joy as he walked through the ballpit and onto the daycare’s floor. “Sunny!” You babbled, knowing his name since there was no way you’d miss it with all the posters outside the daycare. I mean c’mon! He’s the main star, literally. “Yes! That’s me, Sundrop! Gosh you’re so smart~ Ooh- Do you like glitter glue?!” The sun-themed animatronic beamed. You nodded lots, glitter glue was soooo pretty! Sundrop was ecstatic to hear that, so he quickly put you on your feet and gave you the task of picking from one of 4 seats to sit in at the arts and crafts table he set up. You glanced at them all, noting how there was a yellow, blue, pink, and green option- but you ended up choosing to sit at the pink one. You glanced around to see where Sunny went, but you couldn’t spot him at all. Maybe he went to get the glitter glue and other arts stuffs? The table you were sitting at was pretty empty after all, other than a couple pieces of paper and crayons, nothing was there. Suddenly, bells could be heard and you looked up to see the sun-themed animatronic skipping towards you, with a clear bin in his hands that held all types of glitters, glues, googly eyes, and everything you could ask for! “Superstar~ I’m back!” He sang, setting the bin on the table, and then kneeling next to you, “Okay! Let’s try to make a dinosaur! It can be any type you’d like, a T-Rex, Pterodactyl, Triceratops, whatever you’d like!” “And thennnn, we’ll make the outline of glitter glue, color it in, and put some googly eyes on it! Doesn’t that sound like SOO much fun friend?!” The animatronic had so much energy that it was making you both excited and giggle! “Otaysss! I doeses!” You reply, quickly starting to make a brachiosaurus outline with glitter glue. You were successful, but when you were done, you had a lot left over and was kinda curious if it would taste as good as it looked… So you put a big glob on your hand and brought it towards your mouth… But you felt metallic fingers wrap around your arm and pull it away, followed by a sigh, “Sunbeam, you can’t eat the glitter glue! It’s not edible!” He explained, his voice getting a little high-pitched. Upset with his response, you decided you’d reply with a simple, “otay!” and when he let your arm back down, you tried to bring it to your mouth again, but this time faster! Stll, you were unsuccessful and you could hear Sundrop make confused sounds and groan, which made you giggle! “Okay, we’re learning a new word today! Indigestion-” The sun-themed animatronic spoke slowly, starting with a kind tone before changing to a quicker, more annoyed one, “That’s how you get it!” He pulled a napkin out of…somewhere, you weren’t quite sure, maybe it just appeared out of nowhere! But he cleant the glue off your hand and pushed the glitter glue away from you, handing you some crayons to color your dino in wit, which you happily did so! Picking out and using the prettiest colors for your dino, you finished it and he glued on the googly eyes for you, saying you lost glue privileges today. You looked at your now, finished dinosaur and decided to name them…Zoey and that you’d show Zoey to Sundrop! “Sunny! Dis Zoey da dino!” You held it up in his face, happily kicking your legs out of excitement. He tilted his head multiple times before grabbing it, “Ho Ho! This is amazing superstar! I am so proud of what you made!” His praise made you all warm, fuzzy, and happy inside, so you happily clapped and smiled.

(tumblr has a word limit so check part 2)

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 25

I make two promises about the end of this chapter. It's not what it looks likes, and that it WILL be fixed in the next chapter.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24

****

Steve was keeping busy. He was! Running a shop full time and his apprentices were only half way through their training, he didn’t have time to moon over Eddie.

But as much as he wanted to lie to himself he knew that there were too many times that he spent checking his phone for text messages, voicemails, and IG DMs. It was lame. And worse?

He had to watch this.

Vickie walked up to Robin. “Hey, babe. Can you show me how to do the multiple scheduling again? The time I tried, I accidentally scheduled all the way out to the year 3025. Which really, really shouldn’t be possible.”

Robin giggled. “I think they had to put in an end date and went as obscene as possible thinking that they wouldn’t have to update it in their life time.”

Vickie blushed and ran her hand up and down Robin’s arm. “Thanks for showing me again.”

Robin nearly fell out of the chair. Vickie quickly grabbed her and barely managed to prevent her from taking a nosedive.

“Right,” Robin said, ducking her head to hide her flush of embarrassment, she showed Vickie how to do the scheduling again.

He turned to Chrissy. “Please save me from this disaster, Duchess. It’s killing me.”

“You wish is my command, my liege,” she purred and stalked toward the reception desk.

Her outfit was barely this side of professional, but considering what other artist wore in their shops, he couldn’t call her out on it. It was pretty much the preppy pastel version of those other shops. Tight, light blue, skinny jeans with a baby blue tank top and white suede jacket, draped artfully on her elbows to show off her tattoos.

She leaned over the desk giving Robin and Vickie an eyeful of her perky breasts. She reached over and curled one of Robin’s loose strands of hair around her finger. Robin turned absolutely red.

‘You coming to Club Rainbow tonight?” Chrissy simpered, using the easier to say nickname for the Rainbow High Club.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she said, glancing over at Steve and then back to her. “With E–with it being so quiet lately, I figured we weren’t going.”

Chrissy smiled. “I’m always down for bright lights, pumping music, free flowing booze, and...” she leaned closer, “pretty girls.”

If Robin had been red before she positively scarlet now.

Chrissy twisted so she was leaning back on the desk. She flicked a long nailed finger under Vickie’s chin. “How about you, green-eyed girl? You coming, too?”

Everyone’s jaws dropped.

But it worked.

Suddenly Robin was tripping over her feet to say that of course she was going clubbing tonight, that of course she was. And that she was clearly out of her head to even think to stay home.

“Good,” she said, tilting her head back to look at Robin upside down. “Now convince your boy over there to join us.”

Steve gasped. “Traitor!”

Chrissy laughed. “Come on, Steve, you need to get out and feel the earth move under your feet for a night!”

His phone rang and suddenly his was on his feet in an instant.

“Hey, Eds...”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed into the phone. “You sound tired, you okay?”

“No, I’m good.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” Eddie said softly. “You doing anything fun this weekend?”

“We were thinking of going to the club tonight,” he murmured. “It won’t be the same without you.”

“Go, have fun, babe,” Eddie said. “You deserve it.”

“I guess.”

“Hey, while I’m thinking about it,” Eddie said nervously. “Did you find someone to fill my tattoo slot?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t,” Steve replied, pained. “I wouldn’t just have someone come in and fill your spot, Eds. That’s your three hour block of time, because you’re coming back, right?”

“Of course, I am, Stevie,” Eddie said gently. “I just worry about you losing money you could be making.”

“I know it’s twelve hours I could be making more money, I know that. It’s just–”

“Hey, babe,” Eddie said. “I’m being rushed out the door. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“No, of course. Miss you lots.”

“Miss you more.”

He hung up feeling worse than before he got the call. It had only been three days, but he felt his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

He walked back to the reception area, rubbing the end of his nose. He cleared his throat. “You guys go on ahead without me tonight. I don’t feel so good.”

The three girls shared glances but nodded.

Argyle took a deep breath. “Why don’t Jonathan and I come over with pizza while the girls go to the club?”

Erica came out her room with a grin. “Did someone say club?”

Chrissy cheered. “Hell yeah, girlie. We are going to have so much fun.”

Steve thought about the offer while the girls made plans, then nodded. It was better than being alone and he was really starting to like Jonathan now that he had broken it off with Nancy.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

The entire shop breathed a sigh of relief.

The club would have been better with its loud music, lots of people, and free flowing beer, but pizza night with the guys was good, too.

“Wait!” Steve said, his brain catching up through his fog of misery. “Erica is only eighteen!”

“Buzzkill.”

*

Sunday was awful. Dustin and Suzy kept gushing about how cool it was that they knew someone who was playing with Metallica.

He was thankful when his phone rang. He walked out to the front porch to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kid,” came the warm voice on the other end of the line.

“Wayne?” Steve looked at the time on his phone. It was a little after seven.

“I figured since we were both missing our boy, I’d give you a call.”

“I didn’t really think about it,” Steve murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but yeah I guess he can’t call you if he’s on stage.”

“This is alright, yeah?”

“No, course it’s okay, I appreciate you thinking about me.”

“How have you been holding up?”

“It’s only been four fucking days and it’s liking I’m missing a limb. I can’t imagine what you felt when he moved to Indy.”

“That’s different,” Wayne murmured, “I knew it was coming. This was sprung on ya, it was bound to feel like shit. What’s eating ya?”

“God, I don’t even know. It’s just when we were finding our feet, the rug got pulled out from under us and I feel like I’m the only one that fell on my ass. And I know that’s not fair to Eddie. I get to live my dream, but he’s not allowed to live his? What kind of shit boyfriend would I be?”

“A hurt one,” Wayne muttered. “I always tell Ed when he gets like this he has two choices with me. You do all the talking and I listen. Or I do all the talking and you let my voice wash over you like a warm, comforting blanket.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks and he hurried to scrub them away.

“You talk, I just need a kind voice on the end of the line.”

Steve listened to him talk about the book club and a used car he bought recently when his truck finally gave up the ghost. He let the warm slow Southern drawl just wash over him and soothe his soul.

Finally Wayne ran out of things to talk about, but by then Steve was feeling better and they said their goodbyes.

And somewhere in Hawkins Wayne stood his kitchen with tears of his own streaming down his face, missing both of his boys.

*

Steve’s heart leapt every time he got a call, a text, a voicemail. He tried not to sound disappointed when it wasn’t Eddie. He made doubly sure he didn’t sound like that when Wayne called. They were both missing Eddie and he wasn’t about to take it out on him.

Robin was getting more and more concerned. She knew that he wasn’t sleeping, that he was barely eating enough to function and was pretty much living off Monsters and coffees too large to be sane.

She really got concerned when he ordered a six shot espresso and downed it in one gulp.

“Steve...” she said warningly.

“I took it slow like everyone wanted,” he spat out bitterly. “I respected his space and his pace. I rescued him from his evil ex. I dotted all the Is and crossed all the Ts and I’m stuck here wondering if he’s going to find someone better than me. Someone who likes metal, not just go to his concert because he’s the playing. That he’ll find another tattoo artist. A better one. One that will really let him fly. That he’ll pack up and move to LA and I’ll be here with a broken heart and shop I will learn to resent.”

“Oh.” Because what else could she even say to that. Because sure, he could do what Max did and just follow Eddie to LA, but he couldn’t do it immediately. He still had at least four months mentoring Chrissy and Argyle. Eight months on the outside. And by then what would be the point of moving out there.

If Steve was like this after a week, six months would kill him.

“You don’t know what’s going to happen,” Robin said. “You just have to trust him to talk to you and do what’s best for both you. How has he sounded when he calls?”

Steve frowned for a moment. “I guess like me, happy to hear my voice, sad that we’re apart. But there is this tiredness underneath and a hint of anger.”

“At you?” she asked, putting her arm around him.

He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but he won’t talk to me about it.”

“He probably doesn’t know how to say it,” she said wisely. “Just give him time.”

Steve nodded.

*

Steve made the first impulsive decision he’d made since deciding to be Hop’s apprentice.

He was going to get a tattoo. He made the appointment with Hop and calmly explained what he wanted and where.

Hop leveled him with a glare. “You sure you want this? You’re an artist yourself, Steve. You know how hard it is cover up a mistake. If I do this there is no going back.”

Steve nodded. “I want it because even if it doesn’t work out, even if we go our separate ways, I want something to remember him by.”

Hop took a deep breath and started his work. It didn’t take long. It was a small tattoo, simple enough in its design. He would have done it himself if Robin hadn’t stopped him.

Soon it was done and Hop scooted back on his chair. He cleaned Steve up, bandaged it, and wrapped it in plastic wrap.

“There you go, kid,” Hop said. “I hope it’s what you wanted.”

Steve nodded. “It is. I promise I won’t regret getting it.”

Hop sighed and got to his feet. “You’re smart man, Steve. A good tattoo artist, too. You’ve been through so much in such a short time. I think you need to take a break and just think. About the shop, your apprentices, your employees, friends, Eddie. Decide what you want and then go for it okay?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s just I’m the only full artist at my shop, I can’t take time off without closing it.”

Hop nodded back. “I’ve been there. I just worry about you.”

Steve sighed. “I worry about me too.”

*

Steve was vibrating out of his skin. The band was coming home today. He was going to see Eddie today.

But when the bus pulled up to the depot and they all filed out, there were only three of them.

Miranda and Jeff were hugging and kissing, Brian and Cecil were hugging. Even Gareth was getting swamped with hugs from his twin and mom.

But–

“Where’s Eddie?” Robin asked first. And Steve was grateful that she was there.

The other three members of the band looked at the ground, around them, anywhere but at Steve.

“He made us stop in Hawkins,” Jeff murmured and even Miranda was starting to look concerned.

“He wanted to spend a couple days with his Uncle Wayne,” Gareth said.

Steve heart plummeted to his stomach. “He’s not coming home?”

“It’s just for a couple of days,” Brian hurried to explain. “The tour just gave him a lot of things to think about.”

“Oh.”

Steve turned on his heel and ran out of the depot, shouts of his name following him out.

****

Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

[gumnut-logic]

Cethair (Bit 4)

Óen | Cethair - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4

Glossary (contains backstory spoilers)

Here is the next bit. Meet Cethair :D

Thank you to all your amazing support with this. I've received such amazing feedback, you are all gorgeous and ever so supportive.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

There was a myth, told by the fire of those who bonded with a dragon with their dying breath. Fallen on the battlefield or cursed with sickness, their breath was taken by a wyrm who saw into their heart and judged them worthy.

The dragon would give life, heal wounds and sickness, and the cherished loved one would be saved.

But there would be something different. At first small things, a change in food preferences, or the odd request, before a personality change would take them away from their family, their community, and eventually they would disappear, never to return.

Some said the dragons took the souls of the dying. Some said they turned into dragons themselves. Others that there was a price for life that had to be paid, that those who were saved were not really saved at all, but enslaved to their saviour.

Some spoke of horrors that should never be spoken.

What was known was that dragons were a great people with knowledge and capabilities beyond that of man. While man partnered and loved them as family, there was always that awareness that dragons were more than they seemed and that there were questions they did not answer.

So rumours continued to speak and some feared the dragons and the myths became lore.

For those from across the Great Western Sea, the place Virgil knew as his childhood home, dragons were everything. Beloved Thunderbirds protecting and honouring their tribe in a harsh world.

But the myths persisted and while he had grown up with the beautiful creatures and loved Dá as much as his brothers, the question was always there. Something to be aware of…

And now to fear.

The ocean was a dark abyss that roared as it pounded onto the finely pebbled shore. Behind him Cóic let off another bellow into that darkness.

It was answered, not by sound, but a golden glow.

Far out beyond the breakers, the ocean lit up with a slowly expanding golden light, strengthening to shine through the waves themselves, lighting up their greens and gold-plating white foam.

Gordon would love this.

The thought came unbidden and brought tears to Virgil’s eyes, blurring it all.

A hand on his arm urged him forward. “Virgil, all will be well.” John’s voice was melodious as always and as he turned to look at him, his red hair was blonded by the light.

Virgil swallowed and took a step into the water.

Golden foam writhed about his leather boots.

Cóic let off another roar, this time joined by both Dá and Óen.

Virgil drew in a wet breath and straightened his shoulders. John had not let go of his arm. On his other side, his big brother reached out and touched his elbow, holding gently, and together they walked into the glowing surf just as a golden dragon lifted its head far above the waves.

And warbled at them.

It was a sea serpent, rumoured to live at the greatest depths, to roam the ocean, wise, yet mercurial, quick to temper and a scourge of the fisherman as they foiled nets and stole catches.

Again, Gordon would have loved to see this.

Virgil’s sight blurred again and he looked down at his little brother, still struggling for breath in his arms.

Scott and John nudged him forward and the freezing surf crashed over his thighs.

The serpent towered over them, red eyes glistening as it peered down. Its snout was slender, but as its mouth opened, dagger-like teeth protruded from its jaws. Its glowing scales flickered gold with hints of greens and blues, ever so smooth over its long snake-like back and belly. A frill of fin structures encircled its neck and shoulders, tapering to a single line down its spine. Two great webbed claws stepped out over the waves.

And one reached out, palm up, to Virgil.

Cóic and Dá crooned at him from the beach.

“Virgil, give Gordon to Cethair.”

Virgil looked at his brother. Lit up by the golden dragon, John appeared ethereal, a soft reassuring smile on his face, Cóic’s silver-white scale at his temple shining in the light.

“He will be safe.”

Scott’s hand tightened on his arm.

And something nudged at Virgil’s hair.

Dá bellowed as Virgil looked back to find the golden dragon’s snout at eye level, every glowing scale vibrating with energy, red eyes flashing.

Cethair warbled again and touched its nose to Gordon’s wrapped shoulder.

“Let him go, Virgil.”

Golden light surrounded him, Cethair’s warm breath washing away the cold air.

Trembling, Virgil lifted up his little brother, his bright, sunshine, ever smiling little brother, now broken and dying in his arms, and offered him to the sea dragon.

That claw wrapped around Gordon, encompassing him in light until he almost disappeared, as the dragon reared up and took him away.

Virgil reached out as Cethair drew Gordon in close, holding his little brother a moment and nuzzling him with its snout.

Another warble and the sea serpent turned in the water, creating a wash that swept over the three brothers, and disappeared into the depths taking its golden light with it.

There was a pain-filled sound to Virgil’s left, but he couldn’t respond, caught in a gasp of his own, his legs dropping from under him as if they wished the cold sea could take him as well.

It was John who dragged him and Scott from the water, all of them shivering and soaked to the bone. Virgil found himself bundled up with both Scott and John in a flurry of white feathers as Cóic curled around them.

It was only then, as the world slowed and gave him a moment, that he could give in and breakdown in grief.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[windsweptinred]

Metamorphosis

(Part Five)

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

(This was meant to be the final part. But once again the story got away from me and merrily frolicked off in its own direction. So one last part six to come! There's no bold text in this part. As everyone's an anthropomorphic personification and it would get absolutely ridiculous 😅)

Upon the highest peak of the Dreaming, curled in the arms and wings of Death. Dream of the Endless, white in both appearance and attire, painted in the iridescent light of her wings…Opened his eyes. Destiny turned his page. And omniverse let out a great breath. 

As with all those taking their first, bleary look at life, his first sight was the loving smile of Death. Warm and wide and an immediate comfort. She swept an errant curl from his eye, gazing tenderly down at him. "Hey there." 

Dream looked at her  ponderously, his head a chaotic jumble of memories, all fighting for prominence. Gradually, like scattered jigsaw pieces, they slowly slotted into place. This was..? Heavy burden yet light of heart. This was arms always open, to embrace, to advise, to guide. This was kind smiles and strong reprimands. This was… Death… This was…  

"Sister?" 

Her eyes crinkled. "That's right baby brother." 

He sat up, wincing as his arms protested at the act, making to stand. That was, until he noticed the fading, pearlescent tracks, marring his sister's cheeks. He brought pale fingers to her face and swept them away delicately. 

"You have been crying?" 

Death smiled endearingly at him. Capturing his hands in her own. "It is nothing, my brother. I am happy, very happy. I promise."

Slightly doubtful but having no reason to question the truth in his sister's words, he began to rise again, shocked when the movement caused every joint to sing with pain. His legs trembled unsteadily as he rose, threatening to buckle under his weight. And he would have tumbled if not for Death's strong hands reaching out to  steady him. "Take it slowly. You've been through a lot."

Had he? He creased his brow in thought. Three memories flashed and overlapped. One a child, flaxen hair and beating mortal heart, scared and cradled in the arms of his protector. The smell of blood and the lick of flame. The other, a doomed man, clutching desperately at his lover, pelting rain and an overwhelming sense of despair. The third, a youth, barely aware of his surroundings. Body contorting with unbearable agony. Held securely by two sets of arms and…

Worry surged in his chest as he anxiously  looked around them. "Where is Hob? Where is…" 

"Do not panic, sweetest Dream, we are here." 

Dream's and Death's heads snapped simultaneously towards a couple, stood but a few metres away, smiling serenely at them. 

At first glance, they looked no different than they always had. Night decked in his usual black attire, his long coat once again hung about his sleek shoulders. Time, in a cream tee, slightly worn from regular use, green shirt that sat somewhat haphazardly and blue jeans frayed at the hems. As if he'd simply strolled by on his way to the weekly grocery shop. But that they were no longer as they had once been, that was unquestionable. 

Below Time's feet, flora, fauna and all manner of herb and shrub sprouted, bloomed, then withered before beginning the process anew. His hair and skin shone vibrant and sun-kissed, then pale as if touched by winter's chill. A continually shifting of the seasons in a rudimentary display of what would one day become the phases of boy, man and elder. Past, present and future. Night's hair, still wild and untamed, hung longer now. Flowing and sweeping with a perpetual motion all its own. Minute stars twinkling their way down each lock, forming their own tiny cosmos. About his neck and wrists where his pale skin could be seen, galaxies occasionally flared then vanished in sparkling, teasing bursts. 

Death's face lit like a second sun. "Oh brother!" She all but ran at  Night, flinging herself without care into his arms. They embraced tightly, whispering soft words of reassurance to each other. Pulling apart, she then turned to Time, who opened his arms with an easy grin, but was met with a harsh smack to the chest in reply.  "Hob! You utter… Urgh!" She punched him half heartedly in the shoulder, eliciting an amused chuckle from Time, before leaping into his embrace, both laughing jubilantly while Night beamed at them. 

Dream stood where Death had left him. Smiling sweetly at their antics but unsure of his welcome in them. That was until Time, shining with elation, turned his full attention to him. Throwing an arm toward him in an open gesture of invitation. 

Hands playing nervously with the long hems of his tunic, Dream walked timidly to meet them, greeting them with a demure smile. Time reached out, placing  a fatherly hand on his shoulder. 

"Dream! It's wonderful to see you up on your feet. We weren't half worried for you."

Dream dipped his head lightly in deference at the statement. "Thank you…" 

He faltered, at a loss at how to properly address the being before him. He drew forth memories of a man, bright smiles and attentive eyes. Hob Gadling. Simultaneously was the recollection of a distant, imposing figure. Commanding obedience, dismissive of his children's distress and sorrows. Like the unfeeling turn of clock hands….Time.

… "Sir."

Time grimaced, "Don't go calling me sir. Even my students don't do that."

Dream's eyes flickered down, he'd misstepped already. "Then, how should I address you?" He asked tentatively. 

A welcoming beam lit up Time's face and below Dream's feet, flowers blossomed lustrously "However you please! This one always did." He nodded towards Night. "Still does! I woke up this morning, gazed adoringly into his eyes and do you know what he called me? A sloth! A sloth of all things! Just as hairy, twice as clingy with the same big, perpetually satisfied grin he says. That's a fine welcome to the morning for your new husband isn't it?!"

Dream giggled despite himself at Time's rambling. An obvious attempt to ease his nerves. But a show of kindness he was most grateful for. From Time he hesitantly moved his gaze to the being, affectionately rolling his eyes at his side. 

Night. The once Dream. He was him, knew every step he had taken, every choice he had made. Yet, he was not him. He was Daniel, once human, his own, with his own thoughts and fears. It was a singular feeling. To be the same and yet different, bound yet independent. Like a newborn, still attached to its mother by the umbilical cord. 

Night looked at him, smile soft, eyes kind. Somewhere within Dream, the child Daniel, hurt and unsure, cried out desperately for his mother's reassuring love. Dream felt himself sway instinctively towards Night's tender essence, but  stopped short immediately. Berating himself with an unspoken reproach. 

"Dream?" He felt two hands gently grasp his arms. "Are you well?" 

Dream straightened, though his body screamed in protest at the act. "I am." 

The hands on his arms gave a gentle affirming squeeze and Dream tried, and failed to hold back the reactive flinch it caused. He watched as Night's mouth twitched downwards, eyes flicking about his form assessing, and he slumped his weight into his hold, bravado abandoned. "I feel a little weak." He admitted shly. "And I ache… somewhat."

Night's eyes dimmed a little, bright moons clouding in a dark haze of blues. "Your transformation was far cruller than it should have been." Night looked out towards the horizon in contemplation, before taking Dream's hand, tugging him encouragingly to follow. "Come." They walked the short distance together through Time's greenery that now flourished atop of the cliff. Night bringing them to a halt at the edge of the precipice. Tangled vines and flora tumbled forth from below their feet, trailing down the steep incline below like a verdant waterfall. 

The Dreaming lay before them, rolling swathes of vivid colour intermingled with brutal slashes of scorched earth. Night turned to him, "Do you remember how to call dreams back to you?" 

Dream nodded unsurley, looking at the ravaged landscape below. With such ruthless devastation ravaged upon the land, he had no wish for his first act as its monarch to be one of further, self-serving destruction. 

Night gave him an understanding smile, hand raising from his grasp to rub  reassuringly at his elbow. "To begin to heal your realm, you must first heal. But do not fret." 

Turning his attention once again to the  realm, Night took  Dream's arm, gently guiding it to reach out before them, his hand laying supportively atop of his. 

"We crafted a dream together, the night just past, when all was flux and flow. You and I, both Dream and both not Dream. You recall it?" 

Dream nodded and Night pressed to his side, whispering, "Call it to you." 

Dream reached out, following the siren song of times past and transformation. By his side, he felt Night's presence, wrapped about him like a great cloak. And then, there was the White Horse, or the remnants of it, half covered as it was with root and foliage. About it, a youthful meadow had sprouted and was already  rooting itself deeply in the Dreaming.

He called out to it, requesting its aid. And heard the voices of thousands of revellers old and new toast his health from within. Slowly, bricks and wood turned once more to grain, and drew into the air towards him. The meadow remained, blossoming white poppies in its wake. Dream pictured a great horse of swirling sands, rearing proudly, then galloping at speed towards its master, plunging headlong into his chest.

Inhaling deeply, already feeling the replenishing energy of nourishment, hearth and good company surge through him, he gave Night a wide, unabashed smile, who returned it benevolently. "There now. Last and first born." Night said, "That is better, is it not?" 

Almost drunk with vitality, Dream flung himself forward impulsively. Wrapping his arms about Night and snuggling into his breast bone. He heard a surprised, slight intake of breath, before two arms wove about him, pulling him in further. Dream was surrounded by the smell of an August's eve. Of air thick with heat and cooling sun-kissed soil the slight wisp of refreshing darkness. A chin rested atop of his head and he sighed contentedly. Child, safe and soothed in the beautiful universe that was his mothers arms. 

They stayed that way for a while, breeze blowing gently against them, mingling locks of blackest night and whitest starlight. Merging them into an ethereal sliver halo. Until they heard an eager voice call out, "Duck, I think we have some guests waiting at the castle." 

………..  

They made their way casually towards the heart of the Dreaming. Death and Time chatting animatedly while Night trailed behind, fondly caressing each soaring tree, each stone carving, as if bidding a silent farewell to something dear and precious. Dream followed in his footsteps, re- acquainting and greeting in turn. The denizens of the Dreaming cried out with rapture at the sight of them. There was no proclivity for either. Old and new masters had been safely delivered back to them. And they drew to them like flowers, turning towards the sun's life giving rays. 

"Boss!"

Both Night and Dream looked instantly to the skies at the call, watching as Matthew swooped, coming to an easy perch on Night's shoulder, nuzzling fiercely into his cheek. "You're alright! We thought you were a total goner there for a second!" 

Night pet the raven's head tenderly, smoothing errant feathers that stood in disarray with distress. "I am fine Matthew. More than in fact." 

Matthew's panic, now seemingly mollified, gave way to evident mortification at his actions. He cleared his throat, ruffled his wings and put some distance between himself and Night's head. Attempting a more distinguished pose on the extremity of his shoulder. Only then did he appear to take in the changes to his master. Little head twitching too and fro in curiosity. 

"What's with the glow up?" 

"I am now the embodiment of Night and Space my raven." Night answered calmly. 

Matthew cocked his head, considering for a pause before giving what was most definitely an avian version of a shrug. "You know, I'm not even surprised anymore." Finally, he turned his attention towards Dream. "Who's the kid?" 

Night gave the raven a questioning look, before taking him on wrist. Moving him out, presenting him to the young man. "I think you know truly Matthew. But allow me to introduce you to your new charge. This is the Prince of Stories, King of Nightmares, Lord of Dreams, the Oneiromancer, Master of the Sleeping Marches. Monarch of the Dreaming. Dream of the Endless."

Matthew swung his head in abject confusion from Night to Dream. Night noticed Dream's lithe fingers twitching in barely concealed eagerness to reach out to the raven. But he maintained his composure admirably. 

"Dream, I am sure  you remember Matthew, he is hard to forget." 

Dream smiled brightly before bowing his head politely to Matthew. "It is a pleasure to remeet you Matthew." 

If Matthew found the wording odd, he did not show it. He looked once more at Dream, before turning on his claws to face Night. "So… Let me get this right. You're your mum and he's you."

Night inclined his head. "In a manner, yes that is correct." 

He heard Matthew mumble something under his breath that sounded very much like 'Targaryen level shit' and chose to ignore it. 

The raven turned reluctantly once more to peer at Dream. Night felt his talons tighten about his forearm. 

Dream, who's sunny demeanour was now wilting a little, a touch of dejection in green eyes, reached into the pocket of his tunic. From it, he pulled what appeared to be a chocolate covered peanut. Offering it to Matthew hopefully. Matthew considered for a moment before edging forward, taking it carefully from his grasp before devouring it enthusiastically. After the third helping, he opened his wings and flew the short distance to Dream's forearm. Allowing a clearly delighted Dream to stroke down his back. 

" Got any fries kid?" 

"Matthew!" Night reprimanded. Matthew gave an unconcerned shake of his feathers. Acting in complete ignorance of Night's words, looking still to Dream expectantly. 

"You must not overindulgence him." Night warned Dream, "He is impertinent at the best of times. Do not encourage him further." 

Dream gave a sombre nod in understanding. Before reaching into his pocket and drawing forth a soggy excuse for a fry, drowned in salt. Offering it to Matthew who wolfed it down with abandon. 

Night looked to the skies despairingly." Go extend your greetings to the new Time you troublesome little creature."

Matthew looked from Night to the man walking just ahead. "Hob's what now?!" 

……. 

As they crossed the great bridge that lay before the castle gates, Night took a moment to savour the sight. Home, his home. He placed a hand on the stonework, desperately wishing to feel the thrumming pulse of his once realm against his palm. But the bridge was just a bridge, as malleable to him as any dreamer.. But no longer a part of him. Home no longer. He felt Time embrace him from behind and leant into his warm support. "It's alright sweetheart." Time whispered. "I have built you a home once before with my own hands. I will build you another. Anywhere, anyway you desire it." Night placed a hand atop of Time's where it held his waist. How did I exist so long without you by my side? He wondered. 

He watched as Dream approached the formidable gates. The great stone guardians bowing in unison at his presence. For a moment he dithered, looking to Night questioningly. Night broke from Time's arms with a fleeting kiss before joining him at his side. 

"Go ahead." He prompted, "They will not let us enter without your permission." And oh the bittersweet irony in that. 

Dream looked unsure for a moment, before he placed a palm against the vast doors and pushed. They let out a great creak before swinging forth at their masters command. And there, waiting for them in the great entrance hall, was Lucienne. 

She made an immediate start toward Night, joy and relief flooding her features, before her sense of  proprietary reasserted itself. Halting subtlety and walking instead towards Dream, a courteous expression on her face as she bowed respectfully. 

"My Lord. It is an honour to welcome you home."

Dream smiled graciously, before turning to look briefly at Night, then back to his Librarian. He gave her a compassionate smile, before gracefully stepping aside, "It is alright Lucienne, I understand."

Lucienne's face shone with gratitude, "Thank you sir." She said with palpable warmth, nodding her head once more in deference, before striding quickly towards Night. 

Night reached out to her, their hands immediately joining as they smiled with open affection at each other. "Oh sir, we were all so worried! We thought…" Tears formed at her eyes and Night rubbed at her hands soothingly. "Dry your eyes Lucienne." He said softly. "All is well now." 

Pulling her hands from his grip, she dabbed gentiley at her eyes. Then returned her attention to him, a look of immense pride and wonderment on her face. 

"You are resplendent sir" 

It was Night now, who felt the well of tears in his eyes. He smiled, a great love and  gratefulness bursting within him.  "Lucienne." He whispered reverently. What shall I do without you? 

"Lucienne" a soft voice parroted. And they watched as Dream approached them indecisively. Eyes cast down, before they rose in stark determination. 

"I…If it is your wish to stay by Night's side. You may do so with my blessing. Though…I admit, I shall miss you."

Night looked upon him adoringly, Oh, sweet child. Before meeting Lucienne's gaze, sharing a knowing look. She pulled from his grasp, giving Dream her full attention. Admiration for the new Prince of stories clearly evident. 

"My lord, I am the Librarian of the Dreaming and the very first Raven of Dream of the Endless. It has been my right, duty and pleasure to serve as his protector, companion and sometimes, to my great honour, council. I have never shirked from that, nor do I ever intend to. My place is now, and will forever be by your side."

Dream blossomed in relief as apprehension fell from him like a shroud. A beautiful smile gracing his face, slight wetness at his eyes making them shine exquisitely. 

"I would ask," Night interjected," For permission to visit from time to time." He looked from Lucienne to Matthew, still perched loyally on Dream's arm. "There are many I will miss dearly."

Dream shook his head emphatically. "You need never ask permission. This is your realm!"

Night smiled fondly at his words. "It is imperative I ask your permission." He pressed, before standing to full height, demeanour, kindly yet serious. "For this is your realm now Dream of the Endless."

Dream nodded soberly at the significance of his words. Then with an expression warm and earnest, said "You will always be welcome in the Dreaming, Night."

………. 

"Dream!" 

A vexed shout rang through the air and Night felt the all too familiar presence of his once masterpiece, marching his way towards them. Pulsating ominously with fury and intent. He spun on his heel, ready to confront whatever vicious tantrum the nightmare was readying to unleash. He was however, left watching, highly  bemused, as the Corinthian stomped straight past him, casting a cursory, defiant look his way. Before striding purposefully up to Dream, declaring with vehemence, "I snapped that trickster's neck!" 

Dream smiled sweetly, as if he had just been presented with a neatly bowed gift of posies. "You need not have." 

Night noticed Time send him a discreet smirk from behind them and rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. The weighty knowledge of existence immemorial had done little to quell his lover's bawdy humour it seemed. He cast a smouldering leer back Time's way. Heartened with the wink and the shift of Times locks to a flaming shade red it prompted. 

"I'll snap it every night hence. I'll hunt him dusk till dawn so he dares not close his eyes in rest. I'll drag every organ from him as he screams and begs and lay them at your feet in offering. He'll have no respite in waking or dreaming from his torments!"

Dream looked utterly charmed. "You need not. Your defence of me is most admirable, my Corinthian and I cherish it." A hint of something dark and spectral washed over Dream, then was gone. "But I am more than capable of enacting my own retribution now. Though perhaps …" He sent the nightmare a coy look. "You might join me?" 

Night smirked to himself. There you are, little Nightmare. The Corinthian grinned at his master. Smirk sharp as knives, practically pulsating with bloodlust. His teeth gnashing eagerly at the promise of a shared hunt. 

Night considered the pair. The Corinthian's quick dismissal of him in favour of his successor had, he could admit, stung somewhat. But as he watched them, he understood. He took note of Dream's instant attentiveness to the Corinthian's attempts to please. The ease with which Dream's composure softened as he leaned into the nightmares solid support. There was a trust between them that had long been absent in the relationship between maker and creation. Their shared adventures had already forged a new bond it seemed. Good. 

And yet, as Dream shifted his focus briefly to address Matthew, Night noticed  the Corinthian turn, body angled slightly towards him. The nightmare sent him a devilish grin, before giving a lazy, two fingered salute in his direction. Then he spun back, fully preoccupied once again with his young Lord. Night grinned to himself. Goodbye my nightmare. Be good for your master. He pondered for a moment before amending, Be the least bad you can be. 

He looked upon them one last time. New Dream, radiant and hopeful, Matthew perched on his arm, loyal and brave. Lucienne, wise and steadfast to his right. The Corinthian, zealous and diligent to his left. 

He need not worry. He was leaving the Dreaming in the best of hands. 

"Guys?" 

All turned to Death, who stood half way up a grand staircase to their right, leaning casually against the ornate railings. She nodded her head encouragingly towards an open doorway above, soft firelight and the mumble of conversation spilling out. 

" …They're waiting."

Art by the absolutely amazing @ibrithir-was-here of Night!Morpheus and Dream!Daniel

(Next up we meet the Endless. And I'm finally finished! Huzzah!!)