#i hope everyone is safe and is being treated for their injuries ���

[fuchsea]

.

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[stubz]

Injuries and a ship invasion, no one dies

"Why do they let humans take care of our younglings? If it hadn't been for the coalition then it would've been another century till they realize our existence. Their senses have dulled to the point where its laughable that they are the dominating species of their planet. And lets not forget the fact that they're at constant war with each other over the most stupidest things, color of skin, where one lives, who they love, what they believe, etc."

"Calis stop it! Your being a xenophobe. And while some of that is true you should know by now that the humans care deeply for our children."

"I am simply being concerned parent who worries for their young's safety and well-being...we are in a dangerous area right now, the middle of a war zone, and it would make me feel safer if we had some others at the care centre till reinforcements arrive."

"Trust me my brightest, the humans will do everything they can to ensure the safety of our Dali...and knowing them they'll likely surprise you and live up to their reputation."

"...fine, fine, I apologize, you are right. The humans have surprised me so far, what's one more?"

.

..

...

....

"WHERE IS DALI?! WHERE IS MY YOUNGLING CAPTAIN!"

"Calis calm down! Your arm!"

"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN ENEMY FORCES HAVE INVADED OUR SHIP AND NONE OF US CAN FIND OUR YOUNG!!"

"Calis, your hurt and so is your partner. Think of Gala, they need you right now."

"...Gala is hurt because they were looking for Dali. They got shot because they were heading to the centre...I have to find Dali. For Gala, Captain."

"I'm sure that Kim and Max are doing everything they can to keep them safe."

"With all do respect Captain, how could 2 unarmed humans survive what our force couldn't."

"...I don't know but its probably going to be one hell of a story we'll be telling for the ages. Now go get your arm treated. That's an order."

.

..

...

....

"WE FOUND THEM!"

"CAPTAIN WE FOUND THE YOUNGLINGS!"

"WE NEED A CRANK AND SEND EVERY AVAILABLE MEDIC!"

"oh great stars please no...nonononono DALI!" the Delzah rushed forward, breaking through the search party, only to be stopped by their captain.

"Calis...you have to let them do their job. We, we just have to hope." he could not help the hitch in his breath. Hoping, praying, that his own child was okay underneath the wreckage that was once the youngling care centre.

They fight and thrash until eventually grief overtakes them. They collapse into the captain's arms wailing.

"...what hope do I have that my child is alive under all that rubble. Captain...the only hope I have is that they died quick and that they are with the stars now..."

"Oh Calis..." he sobs. He knows it. There was hardly a chance that anyone was still alive underneath there. Only the strongest younglings who were from a strong species may survive and his child was not one of those few. They were strong but his child was like him...a runt, the joke of the family. Too small, too weak, too soft. She was surely dead...why couldn't it have been him?

"MAPA!"

"PAPA!"

One by one, children emerge from an opening made in the rubble, and at the front of them was Dali and a small feline like child.

"my glorious star" flinging themself from the Captain Calis dragged themself to meet Dali who leaped into their Mapa's arms.

The captain was not too far behind, running to his daughter and cradling her close. Words were not exchanged but Calis could feel the vibrations coming from their purrs.

"See...I told you they would be waiting..."

last to emerge from the rubble was the humans, carried out on stretchers. Only one was conscious. Glass glittered from their skin, dirt and dust blended with vibrant red blood, staining their white bandages, and a rebar was poking out of the unconscious one's side.

"You...got everyone right?"

"Yes, human Max."

"Good...that's good..." and finally did they lose consciousness.

.

..

...

....

"Apparently they covered the windows and hid the kids in the storage room, putting them to the farthest corner while they formed a human wall in front of the door.

When those quiznaking bastards couldn't break down the door they rigged the centre with explosives. Lucky for us the humans personally requested that the storage room be made durable for the equivalent of their disasters on earth so it held up decently well."

"But how did they get so injured?"

"Decently well, meaning the room wasn't completely stable. Eventually the walls started to give and the humans had to improvise by becoming the new pillars. They took shifts until they both had to hold up the weight for what the kids guess to be 3 hours...imagine holding up all of that weight until you were on your hands and knees with rebars, broken glass, and debris piercing into your body."

"...Gala said that Human Max nearly flatlined and Human Kim needed 2 liters of blood."

"You seem confused."

"...Humans are impressive but how did they do all of that? They were already injured and yet managed to hold up a collapsed ceiling for hours until help arrived, I thought they were completely average and even weaker than us."

"Apparently when their loved ones, especially children, are in danger they tap into their more primal instincts. Allowing them to withstand a shot to the side, a slab of concrete to the head, and hours of keeping a ceiling from collapsing until they know everyone is safe.

Heard a story of a human who died only after he saw his kids was safe from a fire."

"Looks like Gala was right. Humans have surprised me once again."

[chronicbeans]

Nurse's Office

Needed to write a platonic Alastor x Nurse Reader Angst fic after I saw that fight between him and Adam like holy hell.

TW: Injuries and Blood, Medical Tools/Procedures, Anxiety/Slight Panic, Spiraling Mental Health

So... When you got started at the Hazbin Hotel, you didn't expect to be a nurse there. Sure, you have the skills, but you usually don't have a nurse working a hotel. Now, though, you completely understand why they'd want to hire you for that, and not the room service position you applied for. Over the little time you've been here, you've seen more injuries that you could've ever imagined at a single hotel, with so few guests.

After the fight with the angels, though? You have been working on overdrive. You've had to patch everyone up, and you can't even find Alastor. You keep doing a head count after every person you treat, seeing if you can find him, but he doesn't show up. Your anxiety only gets worse once you check on Vaggie, the last person you had to help, and he still didn't make an appearance.

You don't want to assume the worst, though, so you grab some medical supplies, put them into a bag, then head out into the debris. He has to be somewhere. Even if he's not alive, he still deserves to be found. He also couldn't have gotten far! Yeah, he kind of... disappeared at one point...? You didn't get a good look, but he did disappear from your sight. But you don't suspect he'd have went far from the hotel while injured. Just far enough to be safe. That's what you hope, at least...

You continue wandering around for a few hours, your legs feeling exhausted after a while. Climbing over all the rubble, breathing in some of the settling dust, and straining your eyes to see up ahead is tiring... that, and you keep scraping your hands and knees on the sharp rocks and broken concrete. The most disheartening part, though, is that you still haven't seen him... Then, you spot it.

A tiny little splatter of blood.

Then, another splatter nearby...

And another...

Yes, a trail! You don't know who it's going to lead to, but you can see some lights in the distance. It at least leads somewhere. You quickly begin to follow it, seeing the red light get brighter and brighter. The radio tower comes into view. You know that it has to be Alastor, at this point. Why hadn't you thought of it sooner? You climb down the rubble, beginning to make your way over to the ruined tower ahead of you.

As you get close to the bottom hatch, you hear some footsteps against the floor. Immediately, you knock on the hatch, making your presence known. "Alastor! It's (Y/N)! I'm coming in there! If you're on the door, you better get off. Don't even try to stop me from getting in, either, because I'll climb through one of the windows if I have to." You pause, hearing the footsteps stop for a moment. After a few seconds, you crawl into the radio tower.

The place is a mess, to say the least... which, you expected. You stand up, then immediately scan the room for Alastor. It's a bit dark, and knowing him, he's probably going to try to hide, somehow. He hates being seen as weak, and from all the blood you've seen so far, he's gotten injured. Badly.

"Alastor? I know you're in here. I heard you walking." You walk around the room, checking every corner. Then, you notice an oddly moving shadow, alongside a puddle of blood. You walk over to it, frowning. "I know you're there. Come on. I'm here to help." You sigh as the shadow makes a little grunt noise, much like a deer would. You then cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at it. Looks like you'll have to appeal to his ego a little.

"How do you think people would feel if you, the great Radio Demon, died here alone in the shambles of his radio tower?" The shadow grows quiet as you say this, and before you know it, Alastor appears before you. He looks terrible, holding his stomach with one arm and the broken remains of his microphone in his other hand. You take a step towards him, but he backs away a bit.

"I'm fine, dear... It's nothing I can't handle. Just give me some time to regain my energy, then I-" You shake your head instantly, gesturing to his wound. "No, Alastor! Look at you. You almost died! Sure, maybe you can regenerate, I don't know... but I spent an hour or so looking for you, with the sole intention of helping you! I didn't come here for you to tell me "No, I don't need help, even though I'm severely wounded"! I came here to assist you."

You watch his eyes widen, his already strained grin becoming even more strained. His ears then pull back, the look in his eyes becoming more distressed. He mutters something, before nodding. Then, he leans against the wall, before slowly easing himself to the floor. "Fine, dear. If you truly came all this way, I guess it would be rude if I said no to your help." You are a bit shocked he gave up so easily, as well as how uneasy he looks. You decide to just help him, though.

You crouch next to him, taking out your medical tools from your bag. "You're definitely going to need stitches... my healing magic can only do so much, but it should work better if I close the wound first." You smile gently, before you point to him. "Though, I'm going to have to, at least, unbutton your shirt and coat to do so. Are you comfortable with that? I know you are very iffy about being touched..."

Alastor then begins to show more visible signs of discomfort, his eyebrows furrowing, and a slight static hum droning from somewhere nearby. You pick up on it, beginning to think aloud. "I can try to find some way to maneuver around the fabric, instead, since it was cut open-" "No. No. I trust you, dear." You blink a few times, wondering why he is acting so oddly. "Are you sure...?" "Yes, dear. I know you well enough to trust you." He then pauses, before quickly adding "You're a medical professional, after all. You've probably seen more than an upper torso, before. I trust you to not be a degenerate."

You simply chuckle, nodding. "You better! I'd say we're good friends, after all." You then quickly unbutton the clothing, before grabbing some sterile gloves and disinfectant. As you put the gloves on, you hear him mutter something, once again. Then, when you grab a set of tweezers and a cotton ball, he makes an odd comment. "We're great friends, yes...? If I told you a secret, you'd keep it, right?" You nod as you pick the cotton ball up with the needle, cover it in disinfectant, then begin to disinfectant the wound. "Yeah. You can tell me. It'll probably keep you distracted from any pain you feel, too."

Instead of a hiss of pain, the static noise grows loud for a moment. Then, it quiets down a bit as he talks. "I'm not entirely sure if you know this, already, but I made a deal... My soul is owned by someone else. I regret it more than anything..." You let out a little hum, your expression changing to one of shock. You grab the suture needle, as well as some thread. "Why are you telling me this?"

"(Y/N), my dear... I trust you more than many others. I've seen you working in that nurse's office of yours. You care more than the average sinner about others. Almost to a hilarious degree. I can imagine you patching up a soldier on one side of a battle and sending them out, then immediately do the same with someone from their enemy's side." He then laughs, before coughing a bit. "You care... but don't care when it comes to the right things to interest me. I trust you to not care about this, even if it means you'll keep secrets from me."

You nod, before gently smiling. "I'll keep it a secret... I know others could hold this against you and use it for an advantage. So, I won't say a word. Plus, you're right. I'm a bit of a chaotic middle ground. I don't like taking sides." You then get the needle into position, beginning to actually sew him up. "So, tell me... Is there anything else you're anxious about?"

His ears flick, the static growing once more. Then, it dies down again. "I don't want to be remembered as an altruist... I don't want to be seen as someone who had died for that hotel and his friends. I know that there's probably some people there who believe I died... and knowing Vox, he probably found some way to watch what happened. That man is practically obsessed with me, after all, dear!" He laughs, again, causing you to have to pause your suturing. After a few seconds, he begins coughing more. He sounds genuinely upset, despite his laughing.

"Why wouldn't you like that?" Alastor seems to disregard your question, instead beginning to talk about his deal once more. "There has to be an exit to that deal... a loophole. Something so I can get out of it..." You begin to continue, almost done with your work. "Are you sure...? What was it?" "I'm sure, and it's private matters."

You finish up, thing up the last suture's knot. Then, you take off your gloves, putting on a fresh pair, and grab the bandages. "... Alastor, are you alright...?" He looks to you, his eyes wide. "Why are you asking...? I am perfectly fine. Not a problem here. After I get free from my deal, I'll be-"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Alastor... you're frowning."

Alastor seems to grab at his cheeks for a moment, an odd, anxious grimace spreading across his face. Then, he begins forcing another grin. His tone is a lot more frantic, as if he has begun to spiral. Or, perhaps, just begun to outwardly express that he's spiraling. "I wasn't frowning. I am fine, dear." "You're not fine... but, if you say so, Alastor. I won't push the topic." You bandage his wound, before sighing. "Okay, so... This magic works oddly. You'll be-"

Before you can finish, he begins standing up. "Hey, wait-" He, holds a hand up, shushing you. Then, he points to himself. "I'll take care of the rest. You should handle your own wounds, dear. Don't think I haven't noticed your scrapes and cuts. You look like you've ran through a thornbush on your way over here." He begins buttoning up his shirt and coat, and you're shocked to see it repairing itself as he does so. Clearly, while your friend's power is limited, he's hiding more secrets than you expected...

"Fine... You better not leave me here by myself as I do so, though." You go from a crouching position, to a sitting one, as you clean off your tiny cuts. You hear him go quiet, for a moment, but can't see his expression due to your focus now being on yourself. After a few moments, though, you hear him chuckle.

For the first time, you hear his voice clearly, with no radio waves obscuring it. "Of course, dear. I never would dream of that. The others, though? Maybe..."

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [5]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 4 | Fic Masterlist | Part 6

"She's severely malnourished, and the injuries on her body tell us that she's undergone quite the abuse, seemingly for years. But I assume you already deduced that much, yes?" Yunho stated as he turned to your husband.

Seonghwa nodded grimly, "Yes, unfortunately. Is there anything you can do to help with all the marks?"

"Given the lack of proper treatment for so long, most of her wounds have only worsened, resulting in permanent scars from various infections. I'll do my best to treat as much as I can, but please understand that I won't be able to eliminate most of these scars." The physician explained, not wanting to give the general any false hope of restoring your skin back to its original form.

Thankfully, Seonghwa wasn't naturally inclined to optimism, and he didn't care to entertain the idea of a miracle. He sighed, "I understand, Yunho. It doesn't matter to me if the scars remain, just... make all the pain go away for her. That's all that matters."

Though possibly surprised, Yunho didn't reveal it in his expression. That might have been the sweetest sentiment he had ever heard from the general. He nodded, "Very well. I'll need a few tools and herbs to prepare her tonic and ointment. Should I stay in the usual quarters until my work is complete?"

Eager to see her mistress recover quickly, the head maid was ready for action. She stood up as soon as her master addressed her, "Eunsook, you know what to do. Organise a team of servants to assist Physician Jung with everything he requires and prepare his usual accommodation."

Without having to be told twice, she swiftly moved to leave Seonghwa's room, "Yes, master! Please come with me, Physician Jung." The general watched as everyone exited his private quarters, leaving him alone with you.

Bringing a chair beside the bed, he seated himself next to you and mustered the courage to hold your hand. Gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, he felt a pang in his heart, realising that it was far from how the hand of someone your age should be – smooth and flawless. Instead, it bore the marks of what he could only imagine as endless pain.

Reflecting on the unfounded accusations he had hurled at you after your sincere expression of gratitude during dinner, he wished he could turn back time and retract his words, if only it were possible. As if your life hadn't already been hell, he had only made it worse for you.

Suddenly, the notion of you being genuinely happy with The Cold Palace didn't seem so far-fetched. After all, who could fathom the inhumane living conditions you had endured for all those years? However, this realisation brought him no comfort; the fact that your life back in the Jang estate was so bad that you had to express gratitude for being given such a place was heartbreaking.

Seonghwa was jolted from his thoughts when he sensed your weak hand squeezing his. Looking up, he noticed your anguished expression as you cried in your sleep, your voice brokenly uttering, "I'm sorry..."

He felt his heart clench at the sight, prompting him to move and sit closer to you on the bed. Lifting his free hand, he gently wiped away the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes down your cheeks, "Hey, it's alright... You're safe now." He whispered, returning the soft squeeze to your hand.

As if aware of his presence, your eyes snapped open in alarm, and a whimper of fear escaped you as you saw him. For the first time in a long while, the general found no satisfaction in the fear reflected in someone's eyes. You gasped upon realising that the lifeline you were clinging to was him, noticing your hand in his.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried harder when you realised your marks were still fully on display. Pulling your hand away from his, you grasped the sheets around you and clutched them close.

Despite the disappointment he felt at the absence of your hand, he didn't have time to dwell on it with your little panic attack. To ground you, he cupped your face with his hands, "Look at me," and you complied, your trembling eyes meeting his gaze, "Stop apologising and tell me what it is that you're sorry for."

"I-I'm sorry for all this," You gestured miserably to your own body, "I'm hideous. I'm tainted. I'm n-not good enough to be your wife, a-and I never will be. I-I don't deserve happiness... I was foolish to think I could find it h-here... with you."

Shaking his head, he caressed your hollow cheekbones, staring firmly into your eyes, "No, you listen to me. Never think that again. I forbid you from believing you're hideous or tainted or anything ridiculous like that. Whoever dares say you're not good enough to be my wife can go to hell because you're the only one I want. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will give you just that. You're not foolish to think that. I'll prove it to you."

Leaving you speechless, Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you before you could muster a response, pulling you close. The sudden warmth felt foreign but good, and you nestled your face into his broad shoulder, allowing yourself to relish the moment.

Am I dreaming? Feels too good to be true.

Marvelling at the luxurious interior of this beautiful room, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a product of your imagination. How could any of this be real?

The last memory you had was the general storming angrily into your room and ripping your hanbok open. After seeing you in your truest form, how could he have ended up acting this way towards you? It didn't make sense; he should have been disgusted and hostile. Instead, here he was, seemingly accepting you.

Exhausted from a lifetime of pain, you lacked the energy to question the reality of your situation. Even if it were just a dream, you decided to embrace it and savour the experience. On the other hand, if this was reality, you knew you had the rest of your life to understand his change of heart.

All that really mattered now was that the pain and the suffering stopped. If Seonghwa truly accepts you as his wife, the reason behind it doesn't seem important. You would simply be grateful for his kindness, or perhaps sympathy—whatever it was, you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

So long as there's no more pain.

With that decision made, you set aside the lingering questions in your mind and focused on how comforting it felt to be held in a warm embrace like this. A contented sigh escaped you as you whispered against him, "Thank you, my lord."

He responded by tightening his hold around your frame, gently cradling the back of your head with a hand, "No, don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything to deserve that from you. I've been horrible, the absolute worst. And for that, I'd like to apologise. I'm sorry, my dear. I promise you, I'll make up for it."

When you attempted to voice your protest, he halted you with a knowing shake of his head, "I know I may seem like an angel in comparison to the people who have... done all those horrendous things to you, but I won't lie and say that I'm proud of myself for the way I acted. You're important too, okay? You're the general's wife now, and I want you to remember that. I won't let anyone disrespect you again."

With a grateful nod, tears of relief welled up in your eyes. This transformed version of Seonghwa before you was a stark departure from the one you initially encountered. You didn't think he was capable of being so soft and caring, but you had no complaints; you could certainly get used to this.

"Oh, mistress! You're finally awake!" Eunsook exclaimed, standing at the room entrance with the physician in tow. This caused you and your husband to break eye contact. The general cleared his throat and averted his gaze, a faint blush tinting his cheeks when he realised the two had witnessed your shared intimate moment.

Yunho suppressed his smile and respectfully bowed at you, "Good day, Lady Park. I'm Physician Jung; it's nice to properly meet you." Blinking, you struggled to come up with a response, gaping at his handsome face.

While the elderly woman giggled at your loss of words, Seonghwa was less than amused at your reaction to the doctor's appearance. He scoffed lightly, finding it ridiculous that you were here gazing at another man after he had just poured his heart out to you.

How dare you be unfaithful this soon?

Upon catching the enticing scent of food, your eyes swiftly moved away from Yunho's face. Your face lit up as you finally noticed the bowl of piping hot congee in Eunsook's hands.

"Oh dear, you must be famished. With Physician Jung's help, we concocted this healthy meal for you. I know it's not very appetising, with all the medicinal herbs in it, but you must get better before indulging in tastier foods, alright?" She smiled encouragingly at you.

You shook your head as she approached with the bowl, "Not appetising? It already smells and looks better than anything I've ever had. Thank you for the food." You murmured, eagerly waiting as she fed you.

Unbeknownst to you, your innocent response had affected Seonghwa more than you realised, and it also surprised the physician. While Yunho had heard a bit about your situation from the head maid, he wasn't fully aware of the extent of it, and hearing it directly from you was truly heart-wrenching. That definitely explained the severe malnourishment.

The congee was gone within moments and Eunsook couldn't help but coo, "Well done, mistress." You bit your lip shyly, feeling embarrassed for devouring it in such an unladylike manner, but nothing mattered the moment the food touched your lips.

As if on cue, a group of servants arrived with a fresh set of clothes and bath supplies originally intended for you earlier in the morning. Turning toward the two men, the head maid bowed and gestured toward the door, "Master, Physician Jung, if you wouldn't mind stepping out. We shall bathe and change the mistress."

Yunho nodded, "Certainly, I'll be getting back to work then," and immediately excused himself, reassured to know you had finished your first sitting of medicine.

The general stood up from his spot, "Alright, Eunsook. I'll leave her to you for now. Take care of her for me." He said, moving to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. The action caused your eyes to widen, and all the servants internally squealed, shocked to see their master being so affectionate for the first time.

Your heart swelled as you watched him leave, his back suddenly seeming so reliable. It was hard to believe that he was your husband, yours. How lucky were you to be wedded to Park Seonghwa?

"Come, mistress. Let's get you cleaned up."

You observed with intrigue as the servants rushed around to prepare a bath for you, an experience you had never had before. However, as they began to assist in stripping off your clothes, you realised you had forgotten all about the marks on your skin earlier. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pushed the hands of the servants away and shook your head.

Reassuring you, they withdrew their hands with warm smiles, "It's okay, mistress. Please know we are all on your side; nobody here will disrespect or look down on you. You are now the official wife of General Park, and we will work our hardest to serve you."

The head maid nodded in agreement behind them, their sincerity deeply touching your heart, "Thank you for your kindness." You whispered, finally allowing them to help you out of your hanbok. They handled you with gentleness, and it took you some time to get used to it—finally not being manhandled like you always had been.

After they finished scrubbing you clean, the other maids momentarily left you alone to enjoy the bath, touched by your endearing demeanour—constantly expressing gratitude for every little thing. To them, it felt almost like caring for a child. Exchanging excited glances, none of them could hide their pleasure in having such a sweet mistress.

With your presence, perhaps the general's anger could finally subside, and the estate could experience some peaceful days. If only you knew the hope you had brought with your arrival.

Eunsook lingered in the background, cleaning and tidying up, while you played with the rose petals floating around the bath water. You couldn't recall the last time your life had been so relaxing, so peaceful. Turning to the elderly woman working nearby, you gathered the courage to ask, "This... this isn't a dream, is it?"

Setting down her supplies, she approached you with a motherly smile on her face, "I assure you, mistress, it is not. This is all very real. Perhaps the master's sudden shift in behaviour can be confusing."

She gently held onto your hand, "Trust me, he is actually not such a bad person at all. There's a good reason why all the servants here have been with him for a long time. Though he believes it is simply because of the good pay, it isn't. He just... has a hard time trying to express his feelings. Let's just say master did not exactly grow up living an easy life. He struggles to show his love because he has not been given nearly enough of it while growing up."

That sounds a little like me too.

Giving your hand a soft squeeze, she added, "And now, with you here, it seems we can all hope that things will change for the better, for master and for you, mistress."

"M-me? Better because of... me?" You whispered, returning the squeeze, and she nodded, "Yes, mistress. All because of you. You are our light and our hope. Thank you for coming to us. You're so important to everyone here, you know that? Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

You didn't realise you were crying until you felt a gentle touch as the elderly woman wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks, assuring you, "No matter what happens, I promise you won't be alone anymore from now on."

Standing in the centre of the room later on, it almost felt like a dream come true as the servants attentively assisted you in getting dressed. For once, you felt genuinely cared for and respected, a stark contrast to your previous experiences at home, where most servants treated you as less than human.

Turning to face the mirror, a gasp escaped you as you gazed at your reflection, "You look beautiful, mistress. Master is going to love it." A servant exclaimed, admiring your natural beauty. Your eyes widened as you took in the pleasant appearance before you, surprised that despite the visibility of your scars, you could look appealing. It appeared that with proper care, hair, and clothing, you could indeed appear somewhat pretty.

I guess all hope is not lost.

"We'll be taking our leave now, mistress." The rest of the maids bowed in a line before you as they finished up. Panic crossed their faces when they saw you about to return their bows, and Eunsook stopped you in time, saying, "Oh dear, mistress! We'll have to work on that. Please remember you do not have to bow to any of the servants here, or anywhere, for the matter."

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'll remember that next time."

She chuckled and shook her head, "That too, you do not need to apologise to us. We are here to serve you." The maids nodded to signal that the elderly woman was right, smiling encouragingly at you before bowing one last time and leaving to return to their other tasks.

"Now, there's still a bit more time before dinner. What would you like to do until then, mistress?" The head maid asked.

You blinked, realising you didn't know how to answer. You never had the luxury to do as you pleased; all your supposed spare time was spent rotting in your prison cell of a room. What did your stepsisters usually do? Right, make your life hell. That's what.

What do young ladies around your age do?

Suddenly remembering Eunsook's earlier words about having to work on what you should and shouldn't do, you perked up, "I... I wish to learn. I want to be a proper lady, to be a proper wife for the general."

You stared, puzzled, as the elderly woman tried to hide her cheeky grin, "Well, the master's study is full of all sorts of knowledgeable books. Maybe you can find something in there. Would you like to go there now, mistress?"

Finding nothing wrong with the suggestion, you agreed. The next thing you knew, you were left standing alone by the entrance to the study she had been talking about. She had explained that she needed to assist the physician with an important task before hastily disappearing.

Not wanting to be impolite, you knocked on the door and waited for a response, "May I please enter, my lord?" After a moment of silence, you knocked again, only to be met with silence.

Maybe he's not inside.

With a shrug, you cautiously pushed the door open. Your eyes widened when you immediately spotted Seonghwa seated at his desk, deeply engrossed in his reading with a slight furrow of his brows. Despite planning to leave, you found yourself rooted to the spot, admiring how attractive he looked, even when only sitting there.

As if sensing someone watching him, his eyes immediately shot up in alert, only to soften when he realised it was you. Caught off guard, you sputtered and bowed repeatedly, "I-I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't mean to spy on you or anything like that. Eunsook told me I could occupy myself with some books in here until dinner, and I—"

Too busy staring down at your feet, you didn't notice he had been making his way towards you. You gasped when his shoes came into view, looking up to find him right in front of you with a gentle smile on his face, "Relax, I'm not angry. You're welcome to spend time with me; I'd be happy to accompany you."

Looking at you closely now, his heart raced as he realised how stunning you appeared in this natural state, even more so than with a face full of heavy makeup, "You... you look beautiful, by the way." He remarked, watching with admiration as a blush tinted your cheeks when you quietly thanked him.

As you bit your lips shyly, he found it hard to look away, feeling a desire to kiss you that he had never experienced with any woman before, "M-my lord?" You stuttered, feeling flustered by the sudden attention he was paying to your lips.

With a hand outstretched, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to join him, "R-right, let me know what you're looking for. This is no royal library, but I'm sure I'll have whatever you need."

You gulped, shyly placing your hand in his waiting one, "I was hoping to learn more about lady etiquette. I... I want to be a proper lady and wife for you, my lord." His heart melted at that; despite the less-than-warm welcome he had given you, you were still willing to work hard and be better for him.

"Very well, come with me." Tightening his hold on your hand, he gently led you towards the bookshelves lining the side of his study.

As you passed by his desk, you couldn't help but do a double take at the reading material he had been so focused on just earlier. You'd recognise the Jang family crest anywhere.

"Wait, isn't that—"

Before you could inquire about it, Seonghwa was already in the process of tidying up the space and simultaneously putting the book away, "Sorry for the mess. Now, which area of lady etiquette did you want to start with first?" He asked, gesturing to the entire row of books dedicated to the topic.

"O-oh, I haven't really thought about that. I wasn't aware there were so many different areas. Gosh, I have much to learn..." You trailed off, your mind already reeling as you tried to figure out which area would be best to begin with.

He sighed in relief, successfully redirecting the conversation. His heart nearly stopped when he spotted the recognition in your eyes upon seeing your family records. The general didn't want to have to interview you in order to delve into your past; he didn't want you to relive any nightmares. More importantly, he didn't want to worry you by revealing any of the plans he had in store for your family.

« Preview of Part 6 »

Jongho entered his master's study that night, panting and puzzled to find the desk filled with books on... lady etiquette?

"S-sir?"

Seonghwa snapped up immediately, catching the assistant's appalled gaze on your books. He chuckled, "Oh, those are just your mistress' books. She said she wants to learn to be a proper lady and wife... can you believe that?"

Without himself noticing, the general had an almost dreamy look on his face as he smiled, lost in thoughts of you, unaware that he was letting it show on his face, revealing his affection for you.

"I see. I'm sure the mistress will no doubt make you proud with her studies soon." Jongho responded with a knowing grin, pleased to see his master being soft for a change, the intimidating General Park momentarily gone, all because of his wife.

Recalling his aide's purpose for being here this late, Seonghwa quickly turned serious, "Well, have you managed to find anything?"

The assistant immediately straightened up, moving closer to the general and lowering his voice, "I have, sir. With the funds you provided, I hired a private investigator willing to infiltrate the Jang estate. Fortunately, one of the older servants didn't take much to crack; she told him just about everything."

With a clenched fist, your husband asked for confirmation, "Well? Was it her father?"

Nodding, Jongho's expression turned grim, "It was as you assumed, sir. It was him, his wife, his stepdaughters, and even the servants. But there's... more. We've uncovered new information, the minister... he truly is despicable."

Sorry, this part took a little longer! Happy to report that I'm feeling much better! I was out all day with my family and immediately got to work finalising this as soon as I got home!

Thank you so much for 800+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and I'm so excited to hear all your thoughts (or even predictions for what's to come😈), I promise I won't spoil anything in my replies! <3

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[zara-renata]

Datura Tea, or how all you want is to get some sleep

You're suffering from insomnia due to untreated PTSD (probably, I don't know, I'm not a doctor or a therapist) from your family getting, well, exploded, and the longer this goes on, the sloppier you become in combat and just existing, and a bad idea is born (let's go to the club alone, drink enough to finally get drowsy and then go home and finaaaaally sleep it off). Zayne treats some of your injuries, Mephisto does Sylus's stalker bidding, and guess who appears at the club right before you're about to probably violate the Hunter's Association code of conduct on an idiot who has a hard time taking no for an answer? Spoiler alert: he can't sing but he can dance, even if he chooses to dance to the music he'd rather be hearing than the music actually being played.

Second person POV, gender neutral MC/reader second person POV, a teeny tiny bit of Sylus POV at the end CWs: insomnia, trauma, grievous bodily injury, hospital environment, shots/needles/stitches, self-destructive behavior, MC may have issues regarding self-worth, MC refuses to get proper treatment, poor life choices, stalking (by Sylus), unwelcome boundary pushing by a non-main character, dubiously welcome boundary pushing (by Sylus), (irresponsible) alcohol use, everyone's thirsty for MC and MC is oblivious because this is a self-insert gacha game and no I will not be taking any criticism on this point at this time.

ao3 link here

Just as you had hoped before agreeing to Sylus’s deal that allows him to make use of your flat as a safe house if necessary, things have returned to normal. Well, as normal as they can be ever since your world was blown apart. It has been weeks, and you haven’t heard from him at all. At first, in the days following Sylus's little... visit, you sometimes find yourself thinking that you see a larger than normal crow amidst the swaying trees on your way home at twilight. Or you'll catch the reflection of two uncannily similar looking men in the shop window you just passed, but when you turn around, all you see is the blur of a faceless crowd.

You tell yourself that you're imagining things.

But then you stumble into your flat one night, wounded, again, but not so badly that you need to go to Akso Hospital, and stop short. You stand very still, clutching the hilt of one of the blades strapped to your back, and listen. Something feels off. Did you line your various pairs of footwear in a neat little row along the wall of your foyer recently? You can't remember doing so, but you've been doing a lot of things on autopilot recently. You wait, but nothing stirs in the gloom of your place as the automatic light shuts off due to how still you're standing.

Nothing. Just silence, and an aching feeling of absence that you refuse to think about too hard.

Just as you had hoped before agreeing to Sylus’s deal that allows him to make use of your flat as a safe house if necessary, things have returned to normal. Well, as normal as they can be ever since your world was blown apart. It has been weeks, and you haven’t heard from him at all. At first, in the days following Sylus's little... visit, you sometimes find yourself thinking that you see a larger than normal crow amidst the swaying trees on your way home at twilight. Or you'll catch the reflection of two uncannily similar looking men in the shop window you just passed, but when you turn around, all you see is the blur of a faceless crowd.

You tell yourself that you're imagining things.

But then you stumble into your flat one night, wounded, again, but not so badly that you need to go to Akso Hospital, and stop short. You stand very still, clutching the hilt of one of the blades strapped to your back, and listen. Something feels off. Did you line your various pairs of footwear in a neat little row along the wall of your foyer recently? You can't remember doing so, but you've been doing a lot of things on autopilot recently. You wait, but nothing stirs in the gloom of your place as the automatic light shuts off due to how still you're standing.

Nothing. Just silence, and an aching feeling of absence that you refuse to think about too hard.

Just as you had hoped. Of course. Although you don’t know him well, you learned enough during the few days by his side to know that Sylus’s moods and interest were mercurial at best. You knew from the moment that Kieran and Luke offered you advice from a psychology book about how people who have everything often need constant challenges and the unobtainable dangled in front of them to keep their interest: Sylus would soon become bored with whatever game he thought he was playing with you, and your life would return to its peaceful… new-normal. And that’s good. That’s what you want. You are not equipped to handle a presence like him in your life. You’re a law-abiding, predictable, simple hunter, just trying not to leave the world worse than you found it, one day at a time. You shake your head, and hang your weapons on the wall rack, next to the coat hooks, and unlace your boots, relieve yourself of your blood-soaked pants and ripped shirt, and step into your flat wearing nothing but your underwear. Free, at last. You turn to head to your fridge for a pack of something frozen to place on the bruises that are only just beginning to bloom along the side of your face, only to freeze yourself, again. Your heart kicks wildly in your chest as you take in the looming mass in the middle of your kitchen, before you realize--

On your kitchen island stands a huge black and red pot, filled with a riot of white flowers, their edges ringed with a faint lavender color. You hesitantly reach out and run your finger along the deadly looking little points dotted along the petals' edges. You don't know shit about flowers, but these look threatening, somehow, in their savage beauty.

Maybe this is a prank. As your partner and closest neighbor, Xavier has access to your place. And Tara has your spare key, since Xavier is out of town so often on his little secretive, certainly not having anything to do with Lumiere escapades. Maybe this is their idea of cheering you up?

But you're not convinced. These flowers look like a warning. You quickly try to summon a list of people who might want to make you uncomfortable, or even frighten you, enemies you've made or hell, beaten at the claw machine? But no one comes to mind. Sylus had said that Sherman wasn't acting alone when... well. He wasn't acting alone, so maybe these flowers come from them, trying to tell you that they'll eventually finish the job. But if they knew where you were, and still wanted to take you out, they could have left a ... bomb instead of a pot of frighteningly gorgeous plants to accomplish their goal. You shudder.

There's no card. No message. Just the cryptic message of the flowers themselves. For fuck's sake, you're tired. Something about the flowers makes you paranoid, so you carefully run your hands through the leaves and stems to see if there is some sort of hidden surveillance equipment, but you fail to find anything. Giving up, you lift the heavy pot with a grunt and place it on your indoor balcony, shutting the door. Now if there is some sort of camera or audio recording device, all they'll see is your hazy outline through your glass balcony door. You can't help yourself: you make a rude gesture at the door, just in case there really is a hidden camera in there. You finish your trek to the freezer, slap a bag of something frozen past its due date onto your face, and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in your bed before another dawn rises.

As the days turn into weeks, and another day has passed where you're wincing as you open your front door, worried that he'll be on the other side, only to find it empty, with none of your clutter undisturbed, you finally decide to put Sylus out of your mind for good. He helped you when you needed it the most, and you repaid his dubious generosity when you patched him up at your place. So you push the thought of him down deep, down with all of the other things you can’t bear to think about these days, and life goes on. You water the mystery flowers from time to time, at the same time you water the rest of your plants, and resign yourself to not figuring out who sent them anytime soon.

You can’t sleep, again.

You’ve been trying it all: running on the treadmill until you’re on the brink of vomiting, the harsh lights of the deserted Hunter’s Association fitness center making you squint. All you’ve gotten for your efforts is a headache threatening to add itself to your list of complaints at midnight, 2 AM, 3 AM, 4 AM, until you’re still awake and your morning alarm is sounding from your hunter’s watch.

Squeezing in extra full body supersets with the kettlebell, sweat pouring down your back, soaking through the hair at your temples and dripping onto the mats. Your muscles are not getting any stronger, and you’re sure as hell getting more fatigued,  but the sleep won’t come as you limp into your bedroom every night.

Camomile tea with honey, warm milk, cold milk, rooibos tea without honey, fennel tea (you gag a little, and decide that you’re absolutely done trusting Moments recommendations when it comes to tea that aids sleep) before slipping under your tangled duvet, only to have to get up to pee an hour later, with no drowsiness in sight.

Every time you try to meditate and take deep, calming breaths, the memories come. And you can’t. You can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Once, you even ask Zayne if he can prescribe you something to help.

"No."

"No? You haven't even asked what I'm asking for help with!"

"No."

You look down at your boots, wondering how far your pride will allow you to push him. You don't really want to tell him, exposing all of your messy insides and issues for him to clinically judge, to file away under this diagnosis or that and dismiss as he moves on to the next patient, for him to see you at your absolute lowest when you've never even seen him break a sweat. Something about that idea makes you want to cry.

"Ok." You smile brightly, or at least try. It probably comes across as more of a grimace, but you are trying. "I'll get going, sorry to bother you!" you chirp, and then cringe internally. Why did you apologize? He's your doctor, if you can't even handle asking him for help with this, even if he says no, you might as well switch physicians. It's fine. This is fine. You are fine.

You're about to turn the handle of his office door when his even voice stops you from behind. "What you need isn't pharmaceuticals. It's therapy. You need to talk to—"

But you can't. Talk. You can't imagine thinking the thoughts, let alone getting the words out. You can't, not yet.

"It's just sleep, Doctor Zayne. I'll just drink some fennel tea," you lie, give him a little salute, and escape.

So now you’re on the brink of doing something you’d previously rather have had your teeth pulled than experience: going to a crowded club, getting shit-faced, and hoping the dancing and alcohol will knock you out for a solid 24 hours. But Tara has already turned down your invitation, putting her hand on yours and saying with excruciating gentleness that she doesn’t think that’s what you need right now, which you can’t stand—the kindness, the knowing looks, the unspoken questions from everyone in your life who knows what happened, and are watching you like a ticking time—

Bomb.

You shake your head. You can’t.

And Xavier has been out of the office a lot lately, and from the mail piling up on his foyer floor whenever you nosily peek through his mail slot, probably out of town as well. So he’s not an option to invite after Tara turns you down.

You already know that Rafayel is out of the country on an exhibition tour, so you don’t even bother calling him. Talking to him usually does cheer you up, but you don’t need to be cheered up, dammit, you need to sleep.

You don’t even consider Zayne. First, he's your doctor and probably thinks spending time with you outside of the hospital would feel like a punishment for the sins of a past life. Also, imagining him, neon lights of a cheesy nightclub reflected off of his elegant glasses, indignantly pressed on all sides by unwashed, sweaty bodies, dancing—your brain short circuits even trying to imagine it.

There’s no one else you would trust being drunk around who you can ask to go with you. But the idea of getting drunk, alone, in your silent flat, makes you want to gag worse than the fennel tea.

As you slip on a comfortable pair of tights under a stretchy pair of shorts, and a soft, loose top—off the shoulder so that you look like you made some effort (you refuse to wear anything that can’t also double as athletic wear, because who the hell knows when you’ll get an alert on your watch), you tell yourself that you’ll be fine. You’ll drink enough to get tipsy, enough to make you drowsy, you’ll wear yourself out on the dance floor, and then you’ll go home again. And sleep. You don’t need anyone else for this. Of course it would be nice to be able to let off steam with a friend, but these same friends have been walking on eggshells around you for months, so it’s probably better this way. No awkwardness, no judgment, no gentle attempts to convince you that you need—

You’ve just slipped your boots on when you hunter’s watch goes off. A wanderer is within minutes of your flat’s location. You gaze at your weapon rack, which hangs next to your coat rack in your foyer, and hesitate. These days, you grit your teeth at the sound of gunshots at the practice range, loud in your ears even through your noise cancelling headset. Still too loud. Still too much like a bomb. You use your blades as much as you can, only unholstering your pistols when absolutely unavoidable. You grab two swords and your holsters, and sprint out the door.

You manage to avoid unholstering your pistols during the battle. However, blades require close quarter combat, which means you’re getting hurt more often. And the insomnia means that your reflexes are slower than they’ve ever been. So after you successfully defend a group of tourists from the wanderer, while unsuccessfully defending yourself against the death throes of a bladed tail that flays open your back, you find yourself back in Zayne’s office, again.

Lately, you feel like you see the inside of Akso Hospital more than the inside of your own flat.

You try desperately to avoid having to go, when at all possible. You take care of yourself, when the injuries are in places you can reach. Teeth sinking into your ever-dwindling supply of bandage rolls, the pain is sharp and demands your entire focus, so your thoughts are unable to drift elsewhere, to flit to the places you can’t go in your mind yet, not yet, you can’t—

But there are some wounds, like the one you just got, that you can’t reach, contorting yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, your heavy, tired arms unable to finagle some disinfectant and a bandage over the torn skin. So here you are, again. To put it mildly, Zayne is not happy. He delicately, efficiently, dabs disinfectant onto the latest laceration on your back in frigid silence. You can almost taste the disapproval wafting from him.

It stings, badly, but the pain is dull amongst the cacophony of other aches and healing wounds on your exhausted, battered body. You don’t even have the energy to wince with each point of contact between the cotton and your gaping flesh.

“You don’t have to fix me up yourself every time, you know,” you try to break the ice. “I’m sure you have other patients with urgent complaints more in line with your specialty. You only know about this time because Greyson ratted me out.”

“I am your primary care physician, as well a cardiac surgeon. I am responsible for signing your fitness for duty certificates. Greyson knows this, and acted accordingly,” Zayne clips out. His office falls silent again, and you focus on the flowers you gifted him sitting near one of his office windows, as he prepares to slip the needle containing the local anaesthetic under your skin in preparation of the stitches you need. You try, as you always do without success, to figure out why he keeps them in here. When you first saw them, they reminded you of the color of the little seals he had made you when you were children. That you had interpreted as a threat. So you gave them to him on a whim, and was shocked to find them in his office the next time you visited. You wonder if he waters them himself, or if he lets the hospital’s horticulturist do it. He’s probably too busy to keep track of such trivial things. You decide that you should thank the lady you’ve seen watering plants in Akso’s hallways with a fruit basket or something for her extra effort. Out of the corner of your eye, a couple black birds flap their wings as if startled, half hidden in the fluttering leaves of the trees in the courtyard that Zayne’s office overlooks. You’re about to look for what startled them when—

The shot is worse than the disinfectant, but the painful prick is quickly over. A welcome numbness spreads under your skin, and you desperately wish it came in pill form for—well, everything else that’s wrong with you.

All you feel is a distant tug and release, but your muscles are locked tight as you let the delicate petals fill your vision, as you try not to think about anything at all, as you’ve done for months now. You’re grateful for the silence, for Zayne’s steady hands and breath. You’re grateful for his care, even though you hate that you need it. You don’t want to be another burden to him, when he has so many heavy burdens already. In this too, you have failed, as you failed—

You can’t. You can’t—  

Almost as if he has just felt the way your body has stiffened even further under his competent hands, Zayne interrupts your spiral as he, light as a snowflake, finally lays the bandage over your neatly stitched wound and secures the adhesive sides. He sits back with a sigh and just gazes at your bare back in silence.

You can’t bring yourself to move yet. You’re just so tired. But you know you have to. You don’t want to worry him, you know he has other, more important matters to attend. You gingerly lean back and let your shirt, which had been scrunched up under your armpits and around your shoulders while Zayne worked, slide down your back as you heave yourself to your feet.

You don’t want to turn and see whatever non-expression Zayne has on his face—you want to get out of here, from under these too-bright lights and his tangible concern, but you owe him the courtesy of looking him in the eye as you express a gratitude that can never be fully conveyed in words. So you do turn, but find him leaning back on his desk, his hazel eyes fixed on the same flowers you had just been staring at.

You open your mouth to thank him, to say your goodbyes to get the hell out of here, when he cuts you off with a voice softer than you’ve ever heard from him.

“You know that you cannot continue like this,” he murmurs, eyes still on the flowers.

You take in the sharp line of his nose, the severe set of his lips. The bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows draws your eyes down the contour of his throat, and it hurts you a little, what a beautiful man he has turned into. For a moment you are jerked back in time, the profile of a serious little boy with softer cheeks but the same hazel eyes overlaying itself atop the view in front of you. When he turns to look at you again the vision dissipates, and you suppress the pain—the only thing you’re good at these days. You steel yourself for whatever lecture he is about to lay into you, convinced that the gentleness in his voice is just his exhaustion at having to deal with you, again, when the shrill ring of his mobile rips apart the quiet in his office.

His frown deepens, but he doesn’t move to answer his phone. It continues to ring between the two of you.

“Better get that, Doctor Zayne,” you nod toward it, flooded with the relief that you might escape from his cold admonishment unscathed, this time.

His jaw clenches, and the knuckles of his hands are white where they clutch the desk, but after another ring he finally reaches into his white coat pocket and lifts the phone to his ear.

“This is Doctor Zayne,” he answers with his customary calm, despite the disappointment you’re pretty sure he’s feeling at the interruption of his flaying you open in ways that the wanderer failed.

You plaster the biggest smile on your face that you can muster, exploiting his inability to say anything as he listens to the other person on the line, and wiggle your fingers in a small wave. Before he can react, you’ve slipped through his office door, and you’re practically sprinting down the hallway to get the hell out of there before he can come after you.

Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose, glaring at his office door as if it’s the door’s fault for depriving him of the chance to tell you that he will refuse to sign any future medical certificates until you listen to him and get the help you so clearly, desperately need, that he needs you to get so that he can sleep at night without being afraid that his worst nightmares will manifest every time you enter his hospital. As he sighs, and prepares himself to handle the next emergency, he does not notice the fluttering birds outside his window, nor the jewel-eyed crow that disturbed them, taking flight from the trees in which they were perched.

***

It’s not too late. You’re exhausted, and hurt, but you’ve been patched up, and the idea of your empty, ineffectual bed fills you with anxiety. Your mission is still a go. So you stop briefly at home to dump your weapons, only retaining a small knife strapped under a black armband along your forearm, throw on a different loose, soft shirt since your other one was shredded and not in a way that looks cute for the club, and head out again. You know a place you’ve been to before with Tara and some other colleagues on an 'optional' but heavily implied as mandatory ‘team-building’ night that ended with a lot of vomit, an inter-office breakup, and a lot of stern glares from your captain the following week. You are deeply hoping that this place can give you what you need tonight.

You look up and cringe at the glaring neon sign: THE BOOM BOOM ROOM. Ok, so this place isn’t exactly classy. But you’re not looking for classy. You’re looking for affordable booze, overwhelming beats, and a late enough closing time not to get kicked out before you exhaust yourself to the extent required by this mission of yours. You’re relieved that the line moves swiftly, and the bouncer waves you in without a second look. Apparently you don’t look as horrifying as you feel, and the knife is discretely hidden under the band on your arm. And suddenly you’re inside.

You’re met with a wall of sound and smells, the bass vibrating in your chest, the floor sticky with what you hope is only spilled beer, and the crowd is surging. You close your eyes once and just soak it in for a moment, letting the mindless life that the place is bursting with wash over you. Then you slip through writhing bodies to reach the bar and order your first drink. You don’t actually want to get shit-faced, since you’re alone. But you do want to have enough to feel the pleasant numbness of alcohol burning its way through your veins, to get drowsy. You order a shot to start and a high-percentage beer to clutch while you dance so you don’t have to wait at the bar again.

It works, for awhile. You let the music fill you, you let the warmth of the shot spread through you limbs. The presence of other, anonymous people, who know nothing about you nor what you’ve been through, relieves some of the loneliness that you refuse to admit has been plaguing you ever since your grandmother and Caleb … Ever since you lost them.

And then you feel someone sidle a little closer to you than comfortable, and you open your eyes to find some guy looking intently at you with a hopeful smile on his face. He leans even closer to you to be heard over the beat as he shouts “Hey! Wanna dance?” into your ear, making you wince.

You shake your head, closing your eyes again, dismissing him. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint, because you feel a hand at your elbow, and hear his voice again: “Why not? You’re not with anyone, right?”

You open your eyes again, and gently, but firmly remove his hand from your elbow with your other hand. “Nah man, I’m just here to relax. I bet someone else would be happy to dance with you though.” You shoot him a tired thumbs up and try to shift away, but he somehow manages to keep pace in front of you, and he’s opening his mouth to say something else, and you’re repeating to yourself I’m a Hunter’s Association role model even when I’m off the clock, I will NOT remove his jaw from his skull, I will NOT remove his jaw from his skull… When suddenly you feel heat envelop your back and someone’s huge hands are gripping your hips—instinct kicks in, you’re convinced that this asshole isn’t alone and his buddy has managed to flank you, and the knife is out of your armband and at a big, warm throat before you realize you’ve spun in his grip, and a pair of bright red, amused eyes are looking down into your face.

“Come now, is that any way to greet your boyfriend, kitten?” Sylus smiles indulgently down at you, hands still on your hips.

“The fuck, Sylus?” you breathe, unable to move, your brain scrambled from trying to reconcile the club’s beat, the aching absence that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore, and the man finally filling it again, right in front of you for the first time since he left your flat’s foyer in a mess of blood and feathers.

Sylus lifts a hand from your hip and runs one long finger over the blunt edge of the knife, gently lowering it from where you are still holding it in shock against his throat. One droplet of blood, flashing like a jewel under the club’s lights, beads from where you pressed a little too hard, and begins to slip down the path of his carotid artery. You barely restrain yourself from launching yourself at his neck and running your tongue along his skin to counter the droplet’s descent—aaand at this highly intrusive thought, you want to punch yourself in the face, and tell yourself firmly that it’s the alcohol. You haven’t had alcohol in months. Your tolerance is basically non-existent at this point, you cannot be blamed for whatever the hell that urge just was.

“I see your professional greeting has not improved any since our last encounter, sweetheart,” he laughs, sounding genuinely pleased despite his complaint, thankfully oblivious to the insane thoughts inflicting themselves on your brain. His gaze flicks from you to the aggressive guy still gaping at the two of you. “I suggest you listen to what my partner has clearly communicated to you, if you would like to leave this... establishment, with all of the limbs with which you entered it,” he sniffs, clearly unimpressed with both the venue and the limbs in question. The guy’s eyes widen a little more, which you didn’t think possible, before he just nods his head so fast it looks like it will detach itself from his spine and pushes away from you through the crowd.

“I think you frightened him,” Sylus tsks, shaking his head. “Another poor service review for the Association’s feedback form, kitten. I’m worried about your performance review this year.”

“Perhaps I should bring them your head to compensate for my poor customer service. That would guarantee a raise instead of an admonishment,” you snap, still feeling violent from your inexplicable impulse to slobber all over this smug asshole’s throat.

Sylus’s eyes, impossibly, light up even more in response to your threat. “Oh, I would love to see you try to take my head,” he almost growls, smiling so wide you can see his crooked canines.

It’s the alcohol. It’s the alcohol. There is absolutely no innuendo to be found in what he has just said. You lift your hand to slap that thought right out of your head, but Sylus catches it in one of his own and tightens his other grip on your hip.

“You’ve already done quite enough damage to one of my favorite acquisitions tonight,” he says, running his thumb gently from your wrist to your palm. For a brief moment, all you can do is stare up into his face, ensnared by the softness in his usually sharp eyes, the slight crease between his eyebrows, the hair that you had told yourself for weeks could not possibly be as soft, as pretty, with the sheen and color of a pearl, as you remember it being.

Ok, someone must have spiked your drink. This is not happening. You cannot handle whatever game he is trying to play right now. “What are you even doing here?” you ask, in a desperate attempt to divert this conversation’s track before a trainwreck happens that leaves you in more pieces than you’re currently in. "And boyfriend? You're my boyfriend now?"

"Well, this is sudden, but how could I say no to such an elegantly worded proposition?" he gasps, eyes widening in mock surprise.

"Sylus," you warn.

"Yes, my better half?"

"Stop messing with me. Why did you tell that idiot that you're my boyfriend?" You need to know. You don't know why, but you need his answer almost as much as you need sleep right now.

"Unfortunately we live in a patriarchy where having a big, bad boyfriend apparently garners more respect than a clear 'no'," he shrugs. "I considered removing his hand from the rest of him and choking him with it, but thought that might make you mad." You roll your eyes, and he narrows his own. "I was trying to help you, but it appears my aid was unnecessary. I'm almost positive I saw him soil himself when you stabbed me." He smiles in a way that almost looks proud.

"I did not stab you," you insist, even though you can still see the thin line of blood disappearing under the color of his black shirt. You decide not to point it out. He'll discover it when he looks in a mirror later. Considering how self-satisfied he is, probably an activity he spends a lot of time doing. "Why are you here, again?" you repeat, shaking your head.

“A little birdie told me that a certain feral kitten had gotten injured again, and I am finally in a position to do something about it after business kept me away far longer than I had planned,” he answers. Still holding your hip and hand, he gently pulls you a little closer and begins to slowly sway with you, completely ignoring the fast paced, thumping beat of the current track the DJ is spinning.

“Mephisto?” Once again, you’re on the back foot. You are a highly skilled hunter, trained to have sharp senses and to be able to notice when you’re being surveilled.

He leans down, rounding his broad shoulders so he’s close enough to your ear for you to hear him hum his affirmation, leisurely sliding his hand from your hip to span the width of the small of your back to better guide you out of the path of other dancers, his large palm making you feel … safe.

“I haven’t seen him. At all,” you admit, suddenly feeling so tired and out of your depth. So terribly lacking, even at this, a most basic skill of your job.

“No surprise, considering how little you’ve been sleeping,” he says, and then grunts softly as you’re pushed closer into him by someone behind you making their way through the crowd. He’s so warm, so solid, and from this distance, he’s all you can see. Again, just like during the auction’s dance.  How are you even here again? You resist the urge to rest your head against his chest like you did that night, as he forestalled the growing panic, as he showed you more kindness than you’ve been shown, or shown yourself, in months. In the months since… you can’t. You can’t, you can’t you can’t—

“You were a little distracted at your doctor’s office, too,” Sylus’s voice cuts through the thunder in your head, and it takes a beat for you to realize what he’s saying.

“You had Mephisto spy on my doctor’s visit?” you almost bellow, or rather, actually bellow, as the people around you shift and give you sideways glances. You try to jerk out of his hold, but only succeed in dragging the two of you a little to the side on the dance floor.

“I instructed him to confirm that you were actually getting proper treatment this time,” Sylus says, unruffled by your continued squirming to escape his arms. “Cease, you’re going to pull your stitches.”

“The stitches you only know about because you’re a creepy stalker!”

“Creepy?” he laughs. “What a strange way of saying handsome, protective, and resourceful.”

“Now I’m worried about your hearing,” you seethe. “That appointment was private!”

“Not private enough for our good doctor’s tastes, I’d wager."

“What does that mean?”

He levels you look with a look that you cannot begin to decipher. After a moment, he shakes his head, the earrings you just notice that he’s wearing flashing under the spinning lights. Is this asshole actually wearing ruby earrings to bring out his eyes? “You cannot possibly be this naïve,” he scoffs, but without conviction. Like he’s talking to himself.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’re not allowed to spy on me during private moments like that,” you insist, giving up trying to get away from him since he has the reach and agility of an octopus, apparently.

“Excellent, then I’m allowed to spy on you during other moments. I’m glad we’ve cleared that up,” he declares solemnly. “Please pay Mephisto no mind if you happen to notice him in the future, and for heaven’s sake, do not feed him. He is not a pet—he is a subordinate and should be treated as such.”

You make the fastest decision of your life in compiling a list of possible crow snacks as Sylus resumes gently swaying your bodies, and it’s after pistachios as the 7th item on your Mephisto treat list that you realize he has danced the two of you to the edge of the dance floor, and that you have failed to object to him stalking you through his cantankerous mechanical crow.

“Silence is not consent, Sylus!” you try, only to be met with a pitying moue twisting his wide mouth.

“A deal’s a deal, sweetheart. Come, it’s getting late, and I know you are very tired. Let me take you home,” he commands. "You can show me how well you've been taking care of my little gift in my absence."

"Gift?" You're so lost. You stop, not taking another step until he starts making sense.

"The flowers I had Luke and Kieran deliver to your place."

"Flowers..." You wrack your foggy brain, startled at the scowl that is scrunching Sylus's beautiful face.

"Oh, you receive so many bouquets on a regular basis that they just blur together?" He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you again, but his hand slips away from yours until just your pinkies are linked. "I promise to redouble my efforts to make mine stand out from the crowd, then." Inexplicably, he lifts your linked pinkies to his lips for a kiss-the word tender drifts through your exhausted mind. His lips are unbearably soft.

You snort. "I never receive bouquets..." and then it hits you. The doom flowers.

"You sent me the pot of death threats?"

"Death threats?" he blinks, and it's the first time you think you've ever seen him at a loss for words. But he recovers quickly. "You mean the subtle and elegant form of self-defense to comfort and protect you in my absence?"

"Wut."

"I sent you a very generous supply of datura flowers. They're not only visually appealing, but also highly poisonous. You can use them to poison any unwanted guests you happen to find in your home if your more conventional weapons aren't practical for the occasion," he explains, eyes lighting up again.

"Sylus, you sent me a pot of deadly plants with no note or message. I thought someone was trying to convey a message, message. Like, a warning to watch my back."

His face does something complicated then: flickering from surprise to something like pride, but then he just stares at you, sanguine eyes drifting along your face and down to where his hand is linked with yours for a long moment. "It seems I underestimated your cynicism about other people," he says finally. "And while I always enjoy the proof of our kindred spirits, I would rather you didn't have to live a life where you have to be suspicious of something so banal as a gift of flowers." You are blindsided by the gentle sincerity in his words, and you're trying to hold back the tears that are burning your eyes out of nowhere, when he looks at your face again, brightening. "Now that I'm here, let me taking care of being the paranoid one." His gaze sharpens on your tear-filled eyes, and he cocks his head. Runs his middle finger from the corner of your mouth to just under your left eye, gathering the moisture there that is threatening to overflow. "Sweetheart, tears of gratitude are unnecessary. If you're really thankful, then let me take you home, and just try to refrain from offering me any datura tea when we get there, hmm?" He lifts his finger to his lips and flicks his tongue out to lick, and you are convinced you are hallucinating when his nostrils flair, as if he's savoring whatever he tastes in your tears.

As is becoming routine with Sylus, you feel like you're in a fever dream, watching him from a great distance: he's ahead of you somewhere, already at his next destination, pulling you along in his slipstream like a bird in flight, when you're not even sure you know how to fly. The only thing you are able to process at the moment is that if you don't say anything, you'll be right back where you started: staring at the streetlights spilling across your ceiling, exhausted in an empty bed, with no sleep in sight.

“No,” you blurt out. “I don’t want to go home. Please. You’re welcome to go, but I came here on a mission, and I am going to fucking complete it even if it kills me.”

He considers you for a moment, before asking, “And what mission is that?”

You look away, unwilling to meet his eyes now. You don’t want to admit that you’re so fucking tired you can hardly see straight, shoot straight, think straight, but every time you close your eyes, the memories come and you can’t you can’t you can’t and you haven’t slept properly in months.

“I see,” is all he says, and he pulls you along, your hand firmly wrapped in his, and you’re too tired to ask what, exactly, he sees. You let him lead you into the cool night, the bright night lights of Linkon City drowning out the stars above. He tosses you a helmet, and unlike the first time he put you on his motorcycle, he lifts you in his arms to plop you on the seat behind his.

“I’ll have Luke and Kieran pick up your bike and have it back to you before you need it tomorrow,” he says before you can even think to ask about it. “Hold on tight, and don’t go falling asleep on me. I won’t scrape you off the pavement if you fall off my ride.”

And just as he knew you would, you do the exact opposite of what he ordered, because you’re his contrary, ever wilful, feral kitten who refuses to do as its told. You wrap your arms around his solid waist, rest your helmeted head against his broad back, and fall promptly asleep. He relishes the feel of your arms still wrapped tightly around him, but the scarlet-ink tendrils of his evol keep you secured against his back in case your hold loosens as you sink deeper into sleep.

He snorts when you begin to snore through the helmet's comms.

He sighs, feeling content for the first time in weeks. It has taken much longer than he anticipated to clean up all the of messes that Sherman and his backers made while he was gone. Mephisto has been reporting to him daily regarding how you were doing, and Kieran and Luke have been on standby in case you needed them. But even sleep-deprived and determined to take care of your own problems by yourself to the point of self-destruction, you have handled what has come your way with competence, so their help has never been absolutely necessary. But Sylus can see just how close to the breaking point you are. Now that things have finally settled in the N109 zone, he intends to begin a new game, and it starts with him flourishing the trump card of his current hand: your invitation to let him use your place as a safe house whenever the ‘need’ arises.

He revs the engine, just for fun, smiles to himself, and rides through the rest of the night, until the sun comes up.

Later, when you wake up alone in your own bed, stretching lazily in the soft sunlight filtering through your gauzy curtains, you realize it’s the best night’s sleep you can ever remember having. You turn your head and find a black feather on the pillow next to you. You flick it gently, and try not to think too deeply about anything at all.

[batsythoughts]

Figure skater reader is so good!! I reread it twice already! I hope one day you feel like doing a part 2, I’m curious about what happens when reader wakes up living with the batfam :) you are a talented writer

Thank you so much and I'm glad that you all love the work so much! I also appreciate you all being so patient as I get back into the swing of writing again.

Here is the much anticipated Part 2 of Yandere Batfam x Figure Skater Reader!

The whole family was eager to get back to the manor when patrol would finally end, but Bruce made sure they still did the job correctly

All it took was a reminder to keep the city safe for dangers that could potentially cause you harm, which quickly motivated the kids to remain focused

Bruce had ordered Jason and Dick to get rid of your car so that people wouldn't notice it was abandoned in the parking lot

Tim had managed to get into your phone and drafted a message to send to everyone important in the morning saying you were traveling for an unspecified amount of time

After patrolling for over 3 hours, the family made it back to the manor with minimal damage to their own bodies

Alfred was waiting to inform them that you were still unconscious, but should wake up within the next hour or so

All the kids got excited by the news, but Bruce was quick to order them to get washed and into fresh clothes

Once Alfred had insured that all injuries were treated, the whole family quietly made their way into your room to patiently wait for your awakening

Most of them lounged around the room, fixing little details that seemed out of place in their minds

Cass and Damian were seated beside your bed as they watched you slowly begin to stir

Everyone gathered close by as your face scrunched up before your eyes finally fluttered open

They watched as your eyes focus through the after effects of the remaining traces of the drug in your system

They wait patiently until you turn your head to finally look at them all together for the first time in your new home

Cass was the first to reach out as she tried to take hold of your hand only for you to pull away from the attempted contact

She frowned while trying once again, only for you to begin weakly smacking away her hands

Bruce took note of the growing unease between the children at the sight of your defiance. Clearing his throat, Bruce nodded towards the door while giving all the kids that 'look'. "All of you go get a few hours of sleep. I would like to have a talk with your sister about a few things."

He waited until after the door closed behind them before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Using one hand to gently grasp your shoulder while the other had sure you didn't turn away as Bruce looked into your eyes.

"Sweetie, I need you to listen to me," Bruce spoke in a soft voice to not over stimulate your temporary sensitive hearing.

"Not your 'sweetie'." You send him a weak glare while trying to move your head from his touch. Your words becoming jumbled as you close your eyes. "And I'm not... not their sister."

Bruce gives a long sigh as he used a firmer hand to make use you kept looking at him. "That was your old life. This is your new life with our family. It will take some time for you to accept that, but we are here to make it easier on you. The sooner you accept that, the happier everyone will be, especially you."

His words didn't seem to sink into your head before you began struggling away from him again. Bruce shook his head before getting up and walking out of the room. Making sure to secure the lock before turning towards Alfred.

"Can you make sure to-"

"I already have the kettle on for tea and will make some toast for her to eat," Alfred assured Bruce as they stood outside of your new room. "Though I can't guarantee that she will be willing to accept the offer."

Bruce gave a nod before he began walking in the direction of his room. "Thank you, Alfred. I will check on her again in a few hours. Make sure she doesn't have a means to harm herself until then."

Which Alfred insured, putting the tea in a cup that wouldn't shatter and the toast on a paper plate

He took it to your room after making sure the tea wasn't burning hot if you wanted to drink it

When he got in the room, you were still fighting the haze of the drugs, but you were now sat up in the bed

He watched you press yourself to the wall as he set the cup and plate on the nightstand before leaving and securing the room to make breakfast for the rest of the family

They all came down after the sun had risen to silently eat the meal that was prepared for them

Bruce gave each of the kids a set of tasks to do for the day to take their minds off the ordeal that happened when they returned from patrol

After they had all went to do their respective tasks, Bruce went to the Batcave to check on you through the handful of cameras that were discretely hidden in your room

He watched you walk around, trying to find a way out and ripping the bedroom and conjoined bathroom apart

The door opened to show Alfred coming in to collect the untouched cup and plate, which caused you to throw the pillows and other objects

Alfred didn't bat an eye as he walked back out and locked you back in by yourself

Bruce watched you struggle to pull the door open and hit at the frame while screaming to be let out

He watched you continue for almost half an hour before you finally wore yourself out and laid on the floor and cried

After you had passed out, Bruce went back to talk to Alfred about how they could help you accept your new position

Jason and Tim soon came in a few minutes later saying that the car situation was fully taken care of and wouldn't become a problem later on

Tim also explained that he had put together a media stream to show you in case they needed to further convince you that nobody was curious or concerned about your whereabouts

Bruce acknowledged both of their efforts and told them to find something to be kept busy for the rest of the day

A few hours passed before Dick sent a message to Bruce saying that Cass was in her room, sulking over what happened in the morning

He took some time to collect his thoughts before going to her room to check up on her

He saw her sitting on her bed staring at a picture of you she had on her phone

Bruce went over and sat beside her, remaining quiet for a minute before saying you just needed a bit of time to adjust to the sudden change to being with the family

Cass gave a nod before saying she was simply hurt by how you reacted when you saw her

He hummed before placing a kiss to the side of her head and saying you were just startled from the new environment

That seemed to brighten Cass' mood as she gave a weak grin while agreeing with Bruce

He gave her a small hug before taking his leave to look over a few business documents in his office

Alfred had tried offering you a plate of food for every meal after he served the family

Though you barely took more than one or two bites, if you even touched the food to begin with

The family barely had any contact with you due to your continuous aggressive behavior, though it seemed to decrease just a bit each day

Despite being told to keep their distance, occasionally the kids would wait outside your door and try to start conversations

Each time you heard their voices, you threw objects at the door and yelled to be let out from this 'prison'

A couple weeks after you were brought into the family, Dick had decided to go in to try and have a peaceful talk to calm your nerves about the situation

He had Jason be lookout for in case things did end up getting complicated

The moment Dick crossed the threshold, you began raising your voice for him to get out

Dick persevered as he made it further into the room, calmly assuring you he only wanted you to understand they only wanted to keep you safe from the city's dangers

The closer he got, the louder your shouts got and the more physically defiant you began acting towards him

It didn't bother Dick one bit that you were a little upset, until he made the mistake of putting his hand on your arm

Your fist hit his cheek before he even registered that it was moving

Not wanting to accidentally cause you harm, Dick simply held up his arms as you kept hitting with all the pent up aggression since your kidnapping

Before Dick could call out to Jason for help, Bruce burst through the door with one of the coldest glares Dick had ever seen

"Out. Now." Dick had been in the vigilante business long enough to catch the authority of Batman bleeding into the man who had taken him in years ago.

Dick swiftly stepped back and left the room to avoid Bruce's wrath. Closing the door without order, leaving you locked in alone with a visibly pissed of Bruce Wayne.

He wasted no time matching towards you and grabbing hold of you in a bruising grip. Without much effort, Bruce forced you to sit on the bed before grasping your chin. He didn't let up on the pressure, even when the fear flashed in your eyes.

"You listen to me, and listen well to get this through your stubborn, little head." Bruce stared into your soul with the intensity of Gotham's protector. "We have been patient in giving you the time you needed to adjust to this new life. The kids took the verbal abuse from your ungrateful mouth. Alfred made a plate for you every meal, and never complained that you barely touched it. But I will not stand for you thinking you can physically assault your siblings."

"They're not my-" You had begun before Bruce tightened his grip and shook your head.

"They are your siblings, because this is your life now. Do you think anyone has been looking for you this entire time?" The disbelief that flashed in your eyes was what made Bruce push further. "No one has noticed you have been absent in your own life. If you need proof, then so be it."

He pushed your face away before moving his grip to your ankle. Lightly twisting the skin as he continues to stare at you. "But keep in mind, if you try hitting any of them again, I will not hesitate to break every single bone in your ankles and ruin the one thing that we still want to share with you from your old life."

Bruce squeezed his fingers for a second before finally standing up and exiting your room, slamming the door close. Finding all the kids standing at the end of the hall, waiting for Bruce's next move. He simply took a deep breath before looking towards Damian. "Show her the media feed that was put together."

Damian gave a small nod as he took the tablet that Tim held out to him. Everyone stepped aside as the youngest made his way to the door. Looking up at his father for a moment before nodding his head and opening the door.

Bruce stood in the doorway as Damian walked over to the bed. Sitting down next to you before handing over the tablet for you to look through. He watched you hesitantly look through the preselected news reports and and filtered social media sites, finding no information of your sudden disappearance.

Instead of answering, you simply handed the tablet back to Damian with a defeated look in settling on your face. Bruce cleared his throat, causing Damian to stand up and walk out of the room.

"Are you going to be our sister now since no one is looking for you?" Damian's voice cut through the silence as he waited for your response. He did feel a little bad for lying about you not being missed by those you once knew. Especially when they all saw every worry post that your family made, wondering about where you were.

Though he was aware that you needed the push to finally see them as your family. "Do you have to stay locked in here where we don't get to see you?"

Bruce gave you a stern glare as he gave you a quiet warning, "Alfred will bring you breakfast in the morning. I expect you to eat what he brings you with a smile."

With that, the door to your room got closed for the last time that night

Bruce told all the kids to get ready for patrol and stormed down the hall

Each of them shared glances before going to do what was ordered of them

The next day when Alfred brought breakfast, you didn't yell like you usually would when he arrived

And when he returned to gather your plate, Alfred was surprised to see that you had eaten a little more than half the food

With each meal that was given to you, the less food was left for clean up

The kids still talked to you through the door during the day to try and connect with you despite the fact you won't say a word to them

But after a week, they could tell you would come and sit by the door when they would 'visit' you

You never made any effort to connect, so they all just figured the loneliness was becoming too much

One night, Cass stayed at the manor, saying she wanted to have a night away from their nightly activities

She was sat outside your room for most of the night, making little conversation through the door as she leaned against it

She made a small comment about missing the feeling she got when you all had skated when first meeting

Everything got quiet for a moment before Cass heard a soft hum from the other side of the door

She shifted slightly before mentioning that there was the small ice rink that the family made for you, hesitantly offering to take you to spend some time out of your bedroom

There was a beat before Cass heard you whisper a soft "Really?"

Cass waited a moment before reaching up to open the door just slightly to see you sitting on the floor and looking at her with a slightly pleading look

She helped you up and grabbed a light jacket for the two of you before taking your hand and leading you towards the Batcave

At first you were stunned by all the tech and equipment that was in the cave, but Cass lead you towards the rink and grabbed the skates

She helped tie yours like you had done for her before and carefully lead you onto the ice

You were slightly wobbly on your feet in the beginning, but Cass assumed it was due to not skating for over a month

You both did some laps around before moving on to small jumps and maneuvers

Neither of you noticed how much time had passed until the sound of an engine cut through the relative quiet

All the boys were surprised to see you in the cave when they got back from patrol, but they didn't let their shock last too long

They went over to the edge of the rink and helped you and Cass off the ice and out of the skates

Cass wrapped her arms around you while beaming about how much she enjoyed spending the time together

Bruce saw you tense up at first before you hesitantly returned the hug with a far off look in your eyes

The boys soon joined the hug with large smiles at the fact you weren't fighting against them anymore

Bruce stood off to the side for a moment to enjoy the scene in front of him

Walking over towards all his kids, them moved enough for Bruce to get a clear look at your face.

A grin crossed his face as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead

"Welcome home, sweetie."

Sorry about the wait for this! I have been busy with work, family, and doctors appointments this past month. I do have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working through, but I hope to get those done somewhat quicker than I have been. Thank you all for the support and I hope you all have amazing days!

[captjprice]

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Medic!Reader

He doesn't trust anyone else.

mentions : fluff, slight hurt/comfort, cute, simons adorable, fem reader

The noise and chaos of Medical has become background noise with how long you've worked here, and despite being able to hear everyone talking, it fades out in your ears.

You're working on a patient with a minor injury, having a new doctor shadow you as you explain the basics of wound cleaning and bandaging. You falter when you hear a familiar voice.

"I already told you, I don't want you doin' it."

You stay still for a moment, listening in on the conversation until the doctor that was shadowing you clears their throat. "Oh, right. Just a moment." You mumble with a half-smile. You make your way to where the commotion is coming from, finding Simon on one of the medical beds clutching his side. He looks pissed. "This needs fixing, it-" The nurse infront of him stammers, confused why he won't just let her treat him. "No. I want her to do it." Simon grunts, gesturing to you. "Why the hell has she been doing it this whole time, and now she can't?" He grumbles. You let out a little breath. "Simon. I'm busy with a patient. Let her treat you." You reason, gesturing to the wound on his stomach. "That needs to be treated. Quick." You place your hands on your hips, shifting slightly.

"Get her to do the patient. I want you to do this." He says, unmoving and keeping his eyes locked on you. You rub your temple in slight annoyance, even though you can't bring yourself to get upset with him. He's never been keen on touch, you know that. With the things he's been through you can't fault him for it. "Christ, fine. Tara, please take over for me. I have a doctor shadowing." You explain to the nurse who was originally trying to help Simon. With a wave of your hand she shuffles off and closes the curtains.

Simon's shoulders untense as you begin to lay out supplies to tend to him, and he stares at you. He's not judging. You've learned that Simon just likes looking at you, watching the way you do certain little things. "You can't do this every time." You mutter, undoing his gear and pushing his shirt up. For a moment you think Simon didn't hear you, but he looks away. "I can. And I will. You know I don't trust the others." He says, holding his shirt up. "That's okay, but it isn't what I meant. If i'm not on the battlefield with you and something happens, someone else will have to patch you up." You say softly, just the thought of it makes you uneasy. Simon, dying. He stays silent, only making a small noise as you clean the wound on his abdomen. You can practically feel his gaze boring into you, though. You know he thinks you're a beautiful lady, he's let it slip once or twice, covering it up every time by saying 'everyone is beautiful' type of bullshit. "How'd the mission go?" You chirp, hoping to break the weird silence. "Bloody awful. As you can tell. Target got away." He says, his hand balling into a fist at the sting of the alcohol. Simon huffs.

"You'll get 'im next time," You say softly, glancing up and giving a small smile. You can't really tell, but he gives the smallest smile back and nods. There was often this weird unspoken thing between the two of you, which caused Simon to feel so safe in your presence. He'd ask for you when he was hurt, always. You guessed it was just your gentleness that had him so trusting of you. He rarely let others touch him because it caused so many bad memories, but with you they didn't seem to resurface.

"Thank you for making time for me, love." He spoke, a little softer than usual. You knew how much it meant to him. You slowly reach around him to tie the bandage around his waist, glancing up at him as you tie it. Simon tilts his head and his eyes narrow, like he's smiling. It makes you nervous, and your cheeks tint a little red when you move back. "Oh, you gettin' nervous? Why's that?" He asks, and you're positive he's grinning. Simon reaches out to grab your arm, and pulls you that little bit closer. You're not really sure what to say, you never really are with him..

You stare at him, not even bothering to move away again. He's always managing to have you close.

"You were looking at me." You mumble, then gazing towards the side table. "So?" Simon asks, moving to sit a little more comfortable and thrusting his hips slightly to scoot forward. The action has you a little distracted, so you clear your throat. "Don't.. do that." You say, and he lets out a low chuckle. "'S too bad," Simon muses. "You got a pretty face." He's still watching you, searching for a reaction he'll definitely get. You shift slightly. "So you've said." You say, beginning to clean the supplies. "It's true. But you know that ain't the reason why you're the only one treating me." He states, and you hum in response.

Simon doesn't seem satisfied with your response and leans forward, grabbing your waist and tugging you back to him. You let out a small noise of protest, but he keeps you firm against his chest. He lowers his head so it's right next to yours and speaks, "You know how much you mean to me, love?" In response, you nod with wide eyes. "Good. Don't forget it." He says lowly. You're a bit frozen in place when he pulls up the lower half of his mask to reveal his mouth. Simon's lips hover above yours, and in a quick movement you press your lips against his, assuming it's what he wanted.

And you were right. He groans into your mouth, his hands rubbing from your waist to your back, squeezing you closer. You sloppily kiss him, pulling back to catch your breath. "Mindful of your wound." You blabber, mind a bit too hazed. Simon chuckles and tilts his head. "Can't you just enjoy yourself for a moment?" He teases, leaning in to kiss you again. His hands move down to your thighs, trying to get you onto the medical bed. You clumsily climb onto his lap while kissing him, almost sliding off but his firm grip on your ass keeps you seated. Simon pulls back with a grin, lightly tugging your hair. You whine in response, suddenly being shot back to the reality of your situation. "Simon, maybe not here-.." You whisper, grabbing onto his arms.

He seems to mull it over for a moment, before giving a curt nod and letting you slide back onto the ground "After your shift, then. My quarters." He says lowly, trying to conceal the hard-on in his pants as he gets off the bed. You stifle a laugh and give him some painkillers, shoving him towards the door.

You'd regret that stifled laugh later.

[emmyspov]

Idk if your requests are open rn, but if they're not I apologize. I was wondering how you think The Fellowship would react to their youngest member (someone a little younger than Pippin, like around 20) being incredibly prone to injury but also having a really high pain tolerance. Like they keep falling off things and getting hurt but are just like "Don't fuss over me" and the others are just like hyperventilating because they're already like a little sibling to them so there is PANIC in this fellowship tonight

Source: I fell off a swingset and either severely bruised or fractured me hip :)

The Fellowship x clumsy!reader headcanons

author's note: first of all, i am so sorry it took me this long to answer this - life was just.. a lot and i was trying to stay afloat. then, i hope you are doing okay! and haven't hurt yourself more since you sent this in - please be careful & treat yourself gently 🩷 last but not least: i hope i was able to do you justice & you enjoy it :)

warnings: reader falling/stumbling/hitting their head/getting hurt in general, mention of blood, mention of food, please let me know if i forgot something!

word count: 1.6k

edit is mine, pics are from pinterest :)

Frodo: I think Frodo is actually the one who would understand you the best. I mean, he is the ring-bearer and everyone is always so worried about him and the quest and it’s understandable. I mean, he has a lot of responsibility. But sometimes, he feels a bit suffocated by the way everyone is fussing over him, wanting to keep him warm and well fed and safe. So, whenever something happens to you, he would give you some space first – waiting if you ask for help on your own. If you don’t, he’d make sure that you are not hurt. And then, he’d trust your answer. After all, you know your body and its limits best. If you say you are okay, he will simply focus on the quest again. If you do need help however, he will make sure to inform the others so you can get the help you need. Maybe this is something you could actually bond over. Because you’d treat him the same way – not like a baby, but like a friend.

Gandalf: Since you are the youngest of the group, he would feel very responsible for you. Not as much as Aragorn, but very close behind. Whenever you fall or hurt yourself, the wizard notices immediately. In an instant, he is by your side, helps you up and looks over you from head to toe, making sure you don’t have some big gashing wound or bones sticking out. Maybe I am wrong, but I do think, he would scold you a bit. “You really have to watch out”, “Eyes on the ground”, “Be careful”. But, all of these things mean that he cares. He just wants you to be safe and for you to come back in one piece. On the other hand, he is always quite surprised whenever you tell him that you aren’t really hurt. “Maybe it looks like I would be, but I can move my leg just fine – see?” And he would see. It’d take a few moments for you to convince him, but once you have, you will carry on with your journey as if nothing had happened. What you don’t notice is Gandalf eyeing you every once in a while, just to be really sure.

Merry: This hobbit is kind of used to chaos. I mean- he spends most of his time with Pippin. So, if you stumble and roll down some hill, the first thing he would do is laugh. I am talking a full on bending over, belly laugh. Until Gimli or Gandalf or, even worse, Aragorn slightly smack his shoulder before they are running after you, checking you for any injuries. Only then would he realize how dangerous this whole thing was and he’d follow everyone down to you. What he was not expecting however was to find you laughing. “Did I look cool?” Merry would stare at you for a moment before grinning at you, nodding. “Super cool. But are you hurt? Your arm has some scratches from all these twigs laying around.” You were able to stand up immediately, ignoring everyone’s wide eyes, and brushing off the dirt. “Nothing some water and Elrond’s ointment can’t fix.” You two got closer after this.

Pippin: First of all, he is SUPER glad that you, too, came along, because this way he is not the youngest of the group. Sure, he still has to deal with Gandalf’s annoyance at him, but he also has someone by his side who is also full of energy and curious and excited for the quest (at least in the beginning). But because he is the second youngest, he does feel a bit responsible for and protective over you. Like the older one of a pair of twins would. And since you hurt yourself a lot, he is constantly on his toes. Maybe you’d hold hands sometimes? Just so he can realize as early as possible that you’re gonna fall so he can at least try to buffer it. More often than not, it would also end in you two falling ON TOP of one another and that always ends in a fit of giggles. If you fall on your own though and it looked bad, Pippin would immediately call over Aragorn or Gandalf to help you, even when you say you’re fine because you’re his friend and he wants you to be okay.

Sam: Now we all know Sam is a mother hen through and through, even if he denies it. He is, understandably, mostly focused on Frodo and his well-being, but if something happens to you, he is one of the first to help, despite your protests. You stumbled? He will grab your hand and pull you up. Your hands got dirty and bloody from a fall? He will immediately offer his water bottle and help you clean off any dirt. And most importantly: at the end of the day or during breaks, he will carry over some food he cooked (and always an extra portion, too) even though you keep telling him that you can get it yourself and your ankle does not hurt, even if it might have looked like that earlier. “I just want to be sure, my friend. I don’t like the thought of you being in pain.” After a while, you start to accept his treatment.

Gimli: He is not up for discussions. You accidentally ran against a tree? Slipped while getting some water with him? He will not care for what you have to say about the amount of pain you are. You are the youngest of the group and have to be protected. So even if you vehemently try to make him understand that, yes, you might be bleeding a bit or yes, your wrist might be a little bit swollen, he would ignore you and instead call over the others to let them have a look at you. If they decided you were well enough to carry on, he would either carry your backpack (“Stop trying to take this away from me, I will take care of your belongings for now”) or sometimes even you - “Stop fussing around”, “No, you are not too heavy” and “I will carry you around until you are better.” Often times he knows that you would be well enough to walk by yourself, but it makes him feel needed when he can take care of you in some way.

Legolas: I feel like this can go two ways. Sometimes, when he is running in front of everyone else, he is kind of the last to notice whenever you hurt yourself. If he is with the group however, he will almost always be by your side or at least close to keep an eye on you. He likes to listen to you and Pippin talk since it fuels his inner child. One time, he was walking in front of you with Aragorn when you hit your head on a twig, resulting in a small cut on your forehead. You let out a yelp, more out of shock than anything else, but immediately the man and the elf turned around and ran to your aid. You tried to explain that you were fine, but Legolas seeing himself as a wood elf, was already on his way to find the closest stream to fetch some water to clean your wound. Aragorn was telling the others to take a short break when he returned and sat you down. “Stay still, my friend. Even if your cut doesn’t hurt now, it will later if we don’t treat it properly.” He only grinned when you mumbled something in return.

Boromir: Listen, Boromir has a little brother and a shitty father, he knows how to take care of someone while also respecting their boundaries and wishes. No matter how you hurt yourself, the first thing he will do is communicate clearly. Softly grabbing your shoulders, he makes you look at him and asks if you’re hurt or in any pain. If you answer no, he will ask if you need anything or anyone and if you also refuse that, he will make sure that everyone carries on with the journey. However, he will keep an eye on you, more or less secretly. And he will assist you with all the small things during the quest: rolling out your bedroll and placing it close to his own and the halflings’, sneaking you an extra blanket, making you sit close to the fire or refilling your water bottle without you having to ask. He has a soft spot for people younger than him and will never not watch out for you. Can you tell I have a soft spot for him?

Aragorn: Last but definitely not least, the Dúnedain. He is literally one of the best people to have around as a clumsy person - he has the experience from Elrond and the elves in general and knows his way around nature and the wild due to him being a ranger, so he knows how to take care of a wound. Heck, he had to do it to himself countless of times already. However, seeing you getting hurt so often makes his heart skip a beat every time and not in the good way. He worries about you, even if you claim to be fine. No matter how often you fall, stumble, bump against something or hurt yourself in any other way, he is by your side to take care of you. And he will care for you, no matter what you say. When you scraped your knees one time, Aragorn made you sit down on a log and cleaned your wounds before applying some of the ointment Elrond had given them before their departure. Only when he was sure that he had done everything he could, he would allow you to get back up and carry on. You would not get worse on his watch during this journey.  

[swordy-da-goat]

(last ask for a while bc I feel like I'm nagging you sorryy)

I thought road wiz was like an scp, and now we have hazard monster.

Anyway I wonder how either of them would react to being treated like scps? Hazard would be a keter for sure.

Also if you made a road wiz plush I'd 100% buy it I love him sm

got carried away my bad

The Road Wiz

Item# : SCP-████

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in ██████, Sector-██ at Site-██. SCP-████ will often teleport out of their containment cell for an unprecedented amount of time before teleporting back. They are allowed to freely walk around the foundation as their skills and “magic” are very useful in securing anomalies, reducing injuries and casualties, and dealing with containment breaches.

Description: A humanoid entity (hard to distinguish if SCP-████ is a human or some other entity due to their hat and scarf obscuring facial view. Request to remove hat was met with opposition) wearing a hat resembling an orange traffic cone with one big and small white, reflective stripes, an orange safety vest with a long cloak attached from the backend, a yellow and black safety coverall, and long black leather and rubber gloves and boots.

SCP-████ is also in possession of a long black staff with a ring on the tip of unknown material. This staff is able to produced anomalous properties which can be better described as “magic.” Their “magic” seems to be a parody of signs, spells being correlated by the top of their staff in a hologram visual. One example being the staff projecting a deer sign when generating a glowing holographic version with mass of any of the Cervidae family.

Addendum 1: Discovery

SCP-████ was first captured near American state highway ██. The foundation was alerted when nearby police claimed that quote, “a portal just f█cking opened in the middle of the lobby where then a weirdly dressed guy wearing a cone on their head kicked a guy through saying to arrest him for drunk driving.” All personnel in the police station were given Class A amnestics. Foundation personnel were then deployed to the last place SCP-████ was spotted. Foundation were able to find SCP-████ feeding some stray dogs under American state highway ██. SCP-████ willingly agreed to come with the foundation for questioning.

Addendum 2: Interview

The following interview was conducted by Dr. Richards

Dr. Richards: Good afternoon SCP-████, I hope you’re feeling comfortable right now.

SCP-████: No, no, I’m fine thank you. Though I would prefer if you addressed me by “Road Wizard” or just “Wiz.” SCP-████ sounds a bit degrading.

Dr. Richards: …Noted. Anyways the foundation would like to ask you questions regarding your… job.

SCP-████: My job! Well you see Dr., as my name suggests, I am a wizard. My job is simply to keep everyone safe and responsible. The world is a very dangerous place, you SCP foundation folks would know that better than anyone about that fact!

Dr. Richards: You know of the SCP foundation?

SCP-████: Of course I do! Very big fan of your work! Trying to keep everyone safe from all these dangerous anomalies. Kudos to you guys, kudos!

Dr. Richards: Uh, thank you? Anyways, can you detail how you usually preform your job, or keep people “safe?”

SCP-████: Uh… I guess lecturing people on the rules and importance of road rules, filling up potholes, sticking reflective poles near edges, stuff like that. Pretty mundane huh?

Dr. Richards: What about your staff? What do you use that for?

SCP-████: Oh my staff! Well, I use it to channel my magic for the more dangerous part of my job. Magic can be real dandy in a rock slide.

Dr. Richards: I see.

Room is silent as Dr. Richard pauses to write notes.

Dr. Richards: *coughs* Um, SCP- sorry, Road Wizard. If you don’t mind me asking, I know you dub yourself as the “Road Wizard,” but is that the only safety concern you have? Or are there others like you that specialize in other hazards?

SCP-████: Funny you should ask that Dr., my real name’s actually the Safety Wizard. I just go with road because America has a crap ton of cars you know? And no, there's no one else like me so far that I know of.

Dr. Richards: So do you specialize in anything else then?

SCP-████: Sure I do! Let me just-

SCP-████ then manifests their staff from their hand which starts to emit a blue glow. A train sign then projects at the tip.

SCP-████’s outfit then suddenly shifts into a mock version of a steam engine engineer of their outfit, complete with a cap, denim overalls, vest-cloak and a yellow and black striped bandana.

SCP-████: Trains! Guess you could say I’ve become the “Rail Wizard!”

Silence.

SCP-████: Haha, sorry. There are other specialities too, but it’d probably take a while to show you all of them.

Dr. Richards: So are you able to switch forms like that?

SCP-████: That’s right miss! It’s very important to be dressed proper for any job!

SCP-████’s staff projects a car sign and outfit returns to previous description.

SCP-████: So any other questions for me Dr.? I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to be going soon.

Dr. Richards: SCP- I mean Road Wizard, you are aware that we can’t just let you go out.

SCP-████: I understand your concerns Dr., seeing what kind of place you guys run. But believe me, I’m not a dangerous guy! And it’s not like you folks can keep me in here anyways.

Dr. Richards: What do you mean by that?

SCP-████: Oh nothing. Anyways, it was nice chatting with you Dr. Richards, but I really must be on my way. See you later!

Dr. Richards: Hey, wait!

*SCP-████’s staff projects a Two Way Traffic sign and a glowing, yellow portal appeared to the right of SCP-████. SCP-████ then enters through the portal which disappears.

[END LOG]

——————————————————————————————————

The Hazard Monster

Item# : SCP-█████

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber of reinforced concrete. Door and windows should be tightly sealed to prevent SCP-█████ from escaping through any cracks.

Description: SCP-█████ is an amorphous, black blob which can change its mass, texture, shape, and composition through anomalous means. SCP-█████’s face appears to be an NFPA 704 Diamond symbol. Each section of diamond can open up to reveal a set of teeth or eyes (amount varies). SCP-█████ normally uses its anomalous abilities to inflict injuries on people. The relationship between SCP-████, or as they dubbed themself, the Road Wizard, is very negative.

Addendum 1: Discovery

Foundation was first alerted of SCP-█████ when reports of multiple incidents were reported by the people in the town of █████████. Residents were reported being injured by a black shapeshifting blob. Foundation, with the help of the Road Wizard, were able to track down SCP-██████ and capture it. All town residents were given Class A amnestics.

[rivendell-poet]

heyy, i love your work and i was wondering if you could do a scenario of a teen!reader that looks like they could be a child of arwen and aragon.

Thanks so much anon, and yes - I can do that! Hope you enjoy it (focused more on Aragorn/Arwen's side - but if you want me to do one that also showcases other people's reactions please hop back into my inbox and let me know. I'm always a sucker for platonic lotr.)

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧 & 𝐀𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

Gender-neutral reader | Wordcount : 0.6k | TWs : None

✧ When Aragorn first sees you, there is a second when he pauses. It’s almost imperceptible as he looks you up and down, mainly seeing Arwen in you. A little bit of himself.

✧ As he greets you it’s like he would any other, respectfully and asking your name.

✧ But as the two of you travel together he tries to keep you close to him.

✧ He claims that it’s because you’re young and he wants to make sure you’re safe - which is true - but there’s an extra instinct for protection in this case. Because he can’t see you get hurt.

✧ Definitely helps you with blade skills (think the training session between Boromir and the hobbits except it’s you and Aragorn).

✧ Always gives you first or last watch because you need your sleep. Strongly denies Pippin’s accusations of favouritism.

✧ Tries to pass on some of his skills to you, so in the downtime you have you might be identifying plants together or lighting a fire.

✧ Wishes he had more wisdom that his father could have passed down to him. In fact, generally feels unprepared for how he should treat you. Aragorn knows you’re not his child, but there’s still something that makes him want to look out for you and he would appreciate the extra guidance.

✧ Tells you quite a lot about Arwen - he looks forward to you finally meeting her.

✧ You’re always the first person he looks to find after battles, checking you over for injuries and patching them up the second he sees them.

✧ Is privately very proud of you - he wasn’t told his heritage until he was twenty-one, and yet you are here with him now.

✧ Oftens sings when everyone is trying to get to sleep, he doesn’t do it specifically to sooth you but it is very calming, especially after a long day.

✧ After the battle where you’re both injured, he stays with you until you fall asleep.

✧ You’re just slipping unconscious when he pulls the blanket slightly higher, whispering to you, “Good night, senya.”

✧ At the time you don’t think too much of it, at least until you ask him what it means the next day.

✧ He freezes for a second, before he admits it translates to ‘my child’. There’s a second more of pause as he waits for you to say something, before you smile. And he realises that you don’t mind.

✧ When he finally introduces you to Arwen he spends slightly too long making sure you look good (smoothing your outfit, tucking in a stray bit of hair).

✧ Arwen can see the resemblance when she first sees you, although she thinks you look more like Aragorn.

✧ There’s a knowing smile on her face as she greets you before looking to her betrothed.

✧ Seeing the two of them together for the first time, you finally see the resemblance as well.

✧ Making eye-contact with Aragorn he realises you know, and gives you a sheepish smile.

✧ Afterwards he apologises for being overbearing, and perhaps over-stepping boundaries, but you reassure the man that it’s ok - and he doesn’t have anything to apologise for.

✧ Arwen enjoys spending time with you as well, asking if you’ll meet her and enjoys getting to know you. She’s a lot more open about your looks, but it’s never suffocating. She says it rather affectionately, as though it is something she wants you to be proud of.

✧ No-one particularly acknowledges it when the three of you are together, but to the unknowing eye you truly do look like a family.

Bonus : When Elladan and Elrohir first meet you they have to do a double-take. Elrohir checks you, semi-secretly, for elf ears. Also a few pointed looks from Aragorn, to Arwen, to you.

A/N : Hope you like it :) It's always lovely to write for platonic lord of the rings. Also we're back to green, feels weird using it after all the trick-or-treats being orange.

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / cont. in comments ✧ wish to be tagged?

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 25.

Xilä is my own creation.

WAIT! Please note this part contains time skips.

~

Part 21 - Epilogue

‘Xilä’s in labor.’

‘My wife is about to have my kid.’

‘Holy shit, my kid. Mine…’

‘I’m going to be a father.’

‘Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.’

To say Neteyam was freaking out was putting it mildly and- Oh fuck. His damn father-in-law was walking towards him. The last thing he wanted was for the man to see him like this. 

The first time Neteyam had a full conversation with Jxo, he was ten years old. 

To him, Jxo had always been a man of very few words. He never smiled, hated small talk and was extremely intimidating. But he was also incredibly respected throughout the entire clan, and well, Salveen liked him a lot, and so did bossy D’avi, so those were good enough reasons for the ten year old to think him alright. 

Being the chief’s son brought its fair share of challenges. There was a time when a group of boys tried to bully him over his “golden boy” status. Neteyam had fought back- and lost. 

He was ten, and a mess after. And instead of returning home, he ran to Sal’s but she’d already gone to the kitchens that evening. 

Jxo, seeing his cuts and bruises beckoned him in and silently cleaned his injuries- a split lip, swollen cheek, scraped knees and bloody knuckles. 

And when the man finally asked, “What happened?” 

Neteyam broke down and sobbed. He was hysterical and mad at himself for not being strong, mad that he was even crying. He was a man for Eywa sake! A soldier! A warrior! Just like his dad. 

But that day he was grateful that Jxo didn’t treat him like a silly kid- like everyone else did. Jxo calmed him. He was his usual gruff self and spoke to him straight. Treated him like an equal and imparted words of advice Neteyam needed to hear.  

Flash forward to fifteen years later, on the night that he would become a father for the first time, Neteyam was hysterical just like that very day. 

Xilä’s water had only broken half an hour ago and Neteyam was spiralling- or freaking out as his visiting brother had been teasing. Irritated and short tempered, he snapped at anyone who got too close to his mate who had been slowly pacing up and down the interior of the Tsahìk’s tent while her birthing room was being prepared. 

And just like he did fifteen years ago, Jxo and his no nonsense- never one to beat around the bush, pulled him outside and called him an idiot- a skxawng, telling him he needed to to get his shit together and stop snarling and hissing at everyone like a “fucking palulukan”. 

When he’d finished telling him off, he blew out a breath then continued- far gentler or as gentle the man could be, parting fatherly words of wisdom and advice with a comforting hand clasped on his shoulder. 

Neteyam humbled himself and took it all in, and by the end he felt lighter, calmer and far more level headed. 

With a final, “Don’t fuck it up. She needs you. So get in there, skxawng,” the soon to be father chuckled with a brisk nod, thanked the elder and headed towards his wife. 

~

“Swear I’ve gone back twenty-five years,” Jake murmured in disbelief at his grandson in his arms. “He looks just like you did, son.” 

Neytiri hastily wiped a tear that escaped her as she too stared transfixed. 

“He’s got Xi’s eyes,” Neteyam announced proudly as he lingered closely. 

“And her ears,” his mother noted with another sniffle. “He’s beautiful.” Neytiri gently stroked Sprout’s little fist. “Jake, you've had him long enough. It is my turn again,” she bossed her husband. 

Passed over to his grandmother, their baby made a soft sound. He whined and twisted slightly before settling back into sleep.

Jxo pressed another kiss to the top of his daughter’s head as she rested against his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” her father told her for the third time since their parents were let in. “You did good.” 

Sal nodded in agreement, her own eyes swimming in happy tears as she tucked a few of Xi’s braids behind her ear and continued to fuss over her- pouring her another cup of tea to help with the pain. 

Xilä was exhausted but yet a soft smile still graced her face as she watched their parents meet their son for the first time. Jxo was the first to hold him after he’d greeted her with quiet words of praise. And just like Mo’at did, when she eased her son into her father’s arms, she didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened. 

The entire moment was heartwarming, yet slightly comical to a degree. She grinned as she watched her husband hover protectively, scrutinizing every move any of them made as they held their child. 

Even when Jake huffed amused, stating, “You know I had four of you right? I think I know how to hold a baby,” even then Neteyam didn’t care, he still fretted and lectured and adjusted their holds. 

“Oh Eywa, you’re going to be a father just like my Jxo, aren’t you?” Sal chuckled and gently adjusted her grandson with the unnecessary aid of her son-in-law who had told her for the third time to, “Watch his head.” 

“Huh?” Neteyam asked, baffled, the same time Jxo released a noise of offence. 

“Yes, yes. He never liked anyone holding our D’avi. So protective he was.” She hummed wistfully at the memory, eyes never leaving the little one who had taken hold of her finger. “You are so sweet, yes you are. Hi. Hi,” she whispered softly as he blinked up at her, waking from his doze. 

“This does not surprise me,” Neytiri chimed in. “Neteyam was never very good at sharing the things he loves. Xilä, and now our grandson will be included as well I’m afra- Oh Sal, look at his eyes.” 

“Mom!” 

But she ignored him since her and Sal’s attention laid solely on baby Sprout who was yawning, tiny body stretching in Sal’s hold.

“We’d be lucky if we ever get to see the kid,” Jake said, joining in on the teasing. “Knowing our son, he’d keep them locked away.”

Neytiri frowned at this. “My sweet Xi, you won’t let him hide the two of you away all the time, yes? I would like to see my grandson whenever I so pl-”

“Mom. Of course you’d get to see him.” Then after a long pause Neteyam continued with, “But there will be boundaries, and Xilä and I would expect that you all would… respect them.” 

Jake covered his grin of amusement behind his fist and Jxo hid his in Xi’s hair- both men’s eyes automatically cutting to their wives who both had identical looks of indignation. In their heads Neteyam might as well just said they weren’t allowed to see their grandson… ever.

The women looked about ready to protest, but in the end they gave their agreement without so much as a peep. Neytiri however did reach out and pull her son- who was twice her size- into a hug with a, “Eywa, my baby is all grown up now.” 

“Can I have him, mother?” Xi was itching to have her son back in her arms. It hadn’t been long but she missed him already. 

Neteyam was the one to pass him over. His palm found Xi’s nape, thumb stroking her cheek as he stole a kiss from her, uncaring of their audience. 

Sprout stretched with another yawn, fingers opening then curling back up before he nosed at her chest instinctively, cooing a tiny fuss as his legs kicked out. 

Xi tossed a thin cloth over shoulder, covering herself and the babe. She bared one breast and guided him to her nipple. Her baby latched eagerly, little mouth suckling with gusto. 

She knew it was probably a bit silly to want privacy since it was a natural thing to nurse one’s baby in the open. But she wasn’t there quite yet. 

Eyes closed, she listened to the quiet conversation around her and leaned heavily on her husband who curled around her. 

“What have you decided to name him?” Jxo asked his son-in-law. “Have you chosen yet?

Xilä felt smiling lips against her forehead. 

“Zyden. Our son’s name is Zyden.” 

~

Neteyam made his way towards the lively activity at the southern border of the clan- eyes roaming quickly to take in every inch of the scene. 

The mission fleet that had just returned were being aided- travel packs and goods were unloaded while ikran wranglers steadied the restless mountain beasts. 

After being months apart, riders were greeted with open arms by their waiting families and judging by the ease of their smiling faces, Neteyam breathed a small sigh of relief that there seemed to be no pressing worries. 

Tasam who’d led said mission was already talking to the chief. Jake nodded at whatever it was he’d said then clapped him on the shoulder before making his way towards another warrior. 

Neteyam had missed Tasam, he realized. Seeing him after so long filled him with nostalgia, and the memory of them meeting for the first time on their very first day of Iknimaya training played in his mind. 

“‘Teyam! You look good, brother,” Tasam called out. He met him halfway, crooked smile wide at the sight of his comrade and friend. “Fatherhood suits you.”

Neteyam couldn’t hide his pride as they clasped arms in greeting. “Tasam, welcome home. My son… Zyden,” he introduced, titling so that Tasam had a better view of the three month old strapped to his chest. 

A soft swear word escaped Tasam when he saw the baby. He reached out and ran a knuckle along the back of Sprout’s hand in amazement. “He favors your looks.” 

Zyden’s wide silver eyes tracked Tasam’s hand. He cooed loudly then promptly shoved his little fist against his mouth, making sucking sounds as he drooled all over his knuckles.

“I can’t believe I missed so much. How’s Xi? The birth went well?”

“It did, thank Eywa and she’s great. Tired but great.”

Tasam grinned at his friend’s expression. Neteyam was a hardass and as serious as they came. He always seemed to wear a mask of impassiveness that was near impossible to discern most days. Today however, the mask was nowhere to be seen. 

“It’s good to see you this happy.”

“Eywa has bountifully blessed me, how could I not be?” He jerked his head, gesturing for them to walk onwards, a large protective palm resting beneath Zyden. “Tell me, how was the trip? I’m sorry we missed you before you left. I didn’t know you’d be gone so long.”

“I share the same sentiments. As for the trip, it was… interesting. The Sarentu clan… they’re in a bad way. The couple months we stayed we managed to make some good changes, but they still need all the help they can get. I’m hoping another fleet can ride out before the end of the week.”

“It’s that bad?” 

“Their clan is but a fraction of ours and they’re unable to help themselves properly. They have maybe five- six, capable hunters?” he said exasperated. “The clan is exposed. Not enough warriors to provide protection. Not enough hunters to provide food. It is a wonder they have survived this long.”

Neteyam considered his words. “It is things like this that make me glad my father reached out and started this entire initiative. Their chief said as much back at Awa’atlu. He came mainly in the hope that would help.”

With the nearest cluster of communities in sight, Tasam slowed his stroll causing Neteyam to do the same. 

During their walk the father had kept periodically checking in on his son who seemed settled and content against him. Looking down, he saw that Zyden’s eyelids were slowly drooping, little mouth quivering in his sleep as though he were feeding. 

“Do you think Kiri would like bellsprigs? As a gift I mean… It's kind of rare here but bountiful near this clearing I found back at Sarentu.”

The sudden topic change had Neteyam blinking in confusion. 

“Um, sure? I think she’d like them. Wait, aren't those extremely dangerous to harvest?”

“They are- were,” Tasan held up his palm showing off a deep gash that was still healing, “but it’s Kiri. I’d do anything for her.” 

“Huh… You really like her, don’t you?” He got no response and halted, noting his friend was no longer walking beside him. “What is it?” 

“I-” Tasam looked uncomfortable now and was no longer meeting his gaze. “I-” He hesitated again and rubbed at his brow, frowning deeply, almost as if he’d forgotten what he was supposed to say. 

“Tas-”

“I wish for your permission to court Kiri,” he rushed out. 

A long uncomfortable silence proceeded before Neteyam found his voice again. “You- uh, well why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you be asking my parents?”

“I’m planning on it. I asked the chief if I could meet with him and your mother after I give my full report tomorrow,” he scratched his neck, “I suppose he knows what I’m going to ask. Your father gave me this weird, blank look then sort of reluctantly agreed… But I- you see…”

It was jarring and almost amusing to Neteyam to see his friend so scatterbrained and fidgety. Was he… nervous? Shit, he was.

“What I’m trying and evidently failing to say here, is- I care for your sister. She has my whole heart and… and although you are my commanding officer and my future chief and I have the highest of respect for you… You’re also my closest friend, and as Kiri’s brother, I’d very much like to have your permission in addition to your parents’.”

Eywa. Neteyam really wished his mate was here. He was not good with these kinds of situations. Not when it came to his sisters. No wonder Jxo always looked like he was about ready to punch his face most times. 

Kiri and Tasam…? His sister and his- well who was Neteyam kidding, Tasam was as good as his best friend. Why did this all seem like a surprise to him though? He somehow knew it would be coming… didn’t he?

He thought back to every interaction between the two. The man was smitten with Kiri, and Kiri… well, Kiri was near unrecognizable around Tasam. 

He made her happy. 

That was all that mattered, no?

“You have my permission.” 

Tasam’s jaw fell a little, then he straightened up when Neteyam’s face turned mildly murderous. 

“But you should know, my sister is precious. I don’t care if you hurt her unintentionally or not… you know what I’m capable of.” 

It should’ve been difficult to take the mighty Neteyam’s threats to heart when he had an adorable infant strapped to his chest. But Tasam still felt the sting of his words.

“Are you nervous to ask my parents?” Neteyam asked when they’d made it to the heart of Home Camp. 

“Am I nervous to ask the clan’s Olo'eyktan and Olo'eykte if I could court their eldest daughter? That’s a joke right?” Tasam huffed. “Course I’m nervous. But I’ve been wanting this for Kiri and I for so long now. That and I already told Kiri I was going to ask her when you all got back.”

Neteyam laughed, accidentally waking his son who woke with a startled cry. He was quick to comfort the baby with soothing strokes and pats on the back. He also gave him his index finger to hold which of course Zyden instantly put in his mouth. 

“You told Kiri you were going to ask her before you asked for my parents permission?” 

Tasam back slapped his arm, careful not to jostle the baby. “If I remember correctly, you did about the same thing with your Xilä.” 

“Shit, that’s right.” 

“And worse… It was all the clan could talk about for months, some still to this very day. No meeting of the parents, no announcements, no ceremonies, no-”

“Alright alright, you made your poi-” 

“You’re back!” a distant voice called excitedly. 

Kiri’s smile was almost giddy as she made her way closer and from the look of Tasam’s he was probably- nope, definitely worse. 

Ugh. Neteyam was suddenly nauseous. While the duo reunited- lovestruck gazes locked on each other, he focused on his son who was still biting away on his finger, drool leaking down his chin and along Neteyam’s palm. 

“Your aunty Kiri and her new boyfriend are going to make your poor daddy sick, aren't they,” he whisper-sang to his son. “Yes they are.” 

Zyden smiled up at this father as if he understood, gurgling while flashing his gums.  

“Oh here, let me help you with that.” Tasam swooped in with ease and hefted the heavy basket Kiri had been straining with. 

“Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip to tame her smile while she and the warrior continued to fail at being non obvious lovesick fools. 

Zyden’s coo broke their spell. 

“‘Teyam!” Kiri exclaimed as if shocked to see him standing there.

“Kiri.”

“And Zyden!” His sister snagged the baby right out of his carrier and held him close, squishing his cheek against hers as she rocked him.

Zyden looked slightly alarmed, eyes wide at the sudden movement but he did not cry.

Neteyam simply sighed at the pair all the while and of course, the mighty Tasam was just about melting at the sight. 

~

“What are you up to, my love?”

The baby turned and gave his mother a cheeky grin that showed off all four of his baby teeth and it just about melted her heart. 

But Xi wasn’t fooled by his cuteness, she saw the glint of mischief shining through his expression. 

The determined thing waited until she was busy folding another large sheet before he went off again, crawling towards his most recent fasciation.

“Zyden.” Xilä’s tone was soft but firm. “Uh-uh. No playing over there.”

Zyden released an unhappy whine at the reprimand. And despite his mother’s warning, he still reached and held onto the bottom of the wooden shelf to pull himself up on wobbly legs. 

Even though the shelf that housed her husband’s weapons was sturdy and Xi knew the baby couldn’t reach anything, she still corrected her son- letting him know it was dangerous. 

His little leg tried to lift, dangling with nowhere to perch. Not getting anywhere, he stomped his foot in frustration, though it didn’t stop him from trying again. 

“Zyden Sully!” Xi clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Uh-uh, mama said no. Come down from there.” 

At that, his tiny face scrunched up in anger, bottom lip pouting as tears rapidly pooled along his lash line. He pointed at the shelf and babbled his displeasure.

“I know. I know. But you’re too young for those. When you’re older I’m sure daddy will love teaching you to use them.”

Zyden drew a long, silent breath then promptly wailed louder with his head thrown back. One would swear she’d just ruined his entire life.   

“Aw, come here, my love.” 

She could sense a full blown tantrum brewing and since Sal had told her earlier Zyden missed his afternoon nap, Xi expected her son would turn tired and cranky right around this time. 

Laundry forgotten and scattered around her, she gave him her full attention, beckoning him over. 

“Zyden, my heart, come here.”

Listening, he carefully fell to his butt and crawled towards her. “Mma-ma,” he cried, tiny tail flicking back and forth as he moved.

How was he so perfect? 

Xi gathered him into her arms the second he was within reach and smothered him with kisses- forehead, cheeks, nose, angry twitching ears.

“See? This is why we shouldn’t miss nap time, my love. So cranky,” she cooed in a singsong tone.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned tiredly- proving her point, then impatiently pawed at the cloth that covered her chest.

“Hang on, hang on.”

Settling him against her breast, he nursed more for comfort than hunger and while he fed, Xi stared down at him in adoration. She hummed a song and wiped away his lingering tears, thumb sliding across baby soft skin.

She marvelled over his wild curls while brushing them off his forehead and laughed quietly when he offered her his little foot for her to kiss, tiny toes wiggling cutely. 

Nipple still in mouth, he smiled and reached up to pat her cheek, fingers gentle and stroking much like she’d done to him. 

The action caused a tiny pang of sadness to hit her. He was growing up so fast- too fast.

Every one of his milestones filled her with pride- his first smile, first laugh, first word. She may have shed a tear or two over his first tooth… and maybe over the second, third and fourth ones too. And although she was eager for all the other firsts- especially his first steps, each new milestone always reminded her that he wouldn’t remain a baby forever, so she made sure to relish every moment. 

The clanking sounds of their tent’s chimes alerted her that someone was here, and then the beaming face of her husband entering their home came into view. 

“I’m home!” 

Meal forgotten, Zyden grappled and used her top to help pull himself seated, legs and arms kicking and flailing excitedly at the sight of his daddy, gums and four little teeth proudly on display. 

“Look who’s here, Sprout. Who’s that?”

He glanced back at her and pointed at Neteyam who was hurriedly putting away his things.

Zyden prattled a garble of baby talk, tail slashing so fast, Xi thought it’d flick right off. 

Unable to contain himself any longer and with a loud gleeful shriek, their son crawled right out of her lap and charged full speed across the tapestry-covered ground, towards his father- all traces of his mini tantrum gone. 

Neteyam laughed while scooping him up and tossed him in the air before settling him high on his chest. “Why are you naked, huh little man?” He smacked noisy kisses to Zyden’s chubby cheeks making the baby squeal happily. 

“Your son figured out how to remove his tewng this evening.” Xi adjusted her top and picked up a towel to resume her folding. “Every time I put it back on, he took it off and the game seemed never ending, so I let him win for today.” 

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam grinned proudly, as if she’d told him his son had accomplished some massive achievement. “You’re so clever, Zyden. Daddy’s so proud of you.”

Xilä paused and simply stared at her two favourite people in the universe. Eywa, did she love them with her entire being. 

“Mmba-Da-da.” Zyden babbled, tiny palms smacking Neteyam’s cheek and nose and mouth until he spotted and made a grab for the lone string of beads in his daddy’s hair. 

“That’s right, Sprout, that’s me! I’m daddy.” 

Only recently and after a lot of coaxing, Zyden had started saying dada. Xilä didn’t think she’d ever seen her husband cry that much when he’d said it, but then again she herself was a sobbing sap when his first word was mama. 

Neteyam made his way over and crouched down to greet his wife. She kissed him back and they both broke out into laughter when Sprout leaned over to do the same- drooly lips open against her cheek in his version of a kiss. 

As soon as he was set down, Zyden crawled off towards a forgotten toy. He tossed it away then charged after it, finding fun in doing it over and again. 

“I spoke to Lo’ak and Tsireya this morning,” Neteyam said conversationally as he started helping her fold the laundry. 

“‘Teyam,” she interrupted, using her “mom voice” as her husband so liked to call it. Xi had gotten distracted by the article he’d chosen to fold. 

“What?” he asked in faux innocence. Neteyam snatched up another one after folding it to his best and shot her a naughty wink.

Her mate always went for her undercloths first, forever eager to handle the intimate, flimsy things. She shook her head and snickered while he continued on, telling her about Awa’atlu updates. 

The pair chatted about their day- him informing of the new shipment of goods they were preparing to send to the Sarentu and Ta'unui clans, and her prattling on about her early morning lesson with Mo’at and then filling him in on their son’s fascination with his shelf of weapons. 

At some point Zyden had grown bored of his toy and fussily demanded his daddy’s attention. Neteyam dramatically tossed him amidst a pile of clean furs, keeping him entertained as they fought playfully.  

Later on, it was a battle to get Zyden to put his tewng back on, much less keep it on, but soon after, the little family of three made their way to the communal dinner, with their baby babbling the entire way there.

As if he belonged to her, Neytiri plucked their son out of his father’s arms the second they entered the clearing. Zyden was passed around from grandparent to grandparent before he finally settled contentedly next to his aunty Tuk who fussed over him as if she were a grown up. 

It was honestly quite cute seeing her break off tiny pieces of soft root vegetables and feed them to him. She offered him sips of her water which just splashed right down his chest and scolded him lightly when he ate too fast.  

Neytiri, who was nearer, kept careful watch and intercepted fast grabby hands whenever Zyden went after something he wasn’t supposed to. Neteyam chuckled from his spot when his son made a dive for poor Tasam’s teylu. 

The baby was most unhappy when his grandmother lifted him away with a chiding. He even gave Tuk what looked like a glare of betrayal after she giggled saying, “Zyyyyden. You don’t even have enough teeth to eat that, silly.” 

Midway through their meal, D’av and her family showed up. L’eya- toddler on a mission, plopped herself into Xi’s lap to excitedly show her a bug she’d found on the way. “It- it prewdy huh, aunty Xi? An it-it glows and eberyting too. See?”

Xi oohed and awed over the bug in her niece’s palm and Neteyam did the same- pausing his conversation with Jake when she crawled into his lap as well, before eventually running off to do the same with her grandparents. 

“You’re late. You hate being late,” Xi teased her sister who settled beside her. She frowned when she really looked at her sister.  “Are you unwell? You’re pale. Here let me see your-”

D’avi brushed her fussing off. “Stop that. If mother catches you she’s going to come over here and I don’t need that right now. You’re forgetting Yalnïk and I have two toddlers to wrangle, can you blame me for being la- why are you looking at me like that?” 

The older woman dropped all pretense when she saw her sister’s shocked expression turn into a knowing grin. 

Sighing in defeat, D’avi glanced around their family huddle to make sure they weren’t being overheard by their parents. 

Their mother and father thankfully, both had their hands full. Jxo was eating while balancing Zyden on his knee- the baby focused as he chewed away on a massive piece of fruit and Sal had both L’eo and L’eya who she was fawning over and feeding out of her own meal. 

“You can’t tell our parents yet,” D’avi barely whispered. 

“D’av.” Xi’s tail couldn’t keep its cool, it sprung high in excitement. “So you’re actually-”

“Yep… pregnant. I’m pretty sure it happened the night when Bwiin went and snitched on us.” She scoffed. “Our party was not that loud.” 

Xilä remembered that night. She breastfed so she didn’t indulge in the sweetened wines that were being passed around… D’avi however had just stopped with her little ones, so she went all out, and was pretty much the life of the party. They’d gotten so rowdy, Bwiin, their mother’s nosy and grouchy friend had gone and reported them for disturbing the peace. 

Xi bit her lip. “The night you got drunk at Leati’s bacholet party? And Yalnïk had to come get you?” She butchered that word for sure- every time too.

It was a surprise that Leati even wanted to take part in the odd human custom, but Xilä realized that Ze’lu brought out a side to the woman that outshined her cold and somewhat mean disposition. 

“Yeah. I jumped my mate the moment he tossed my ass in bed... Ugh, and I’ve been so, so cautious, Xi and the one time, the one time I forget to have the damn tea. Bam. Pregnant.” She sighed. “Oh Eywa, truly I pray it’s not twins again.” 

“Are you happy about this though? I can’t tell.” 

D’avi’s eyes turned watery. “Of course I’m happy. To be honest I don’t think it’s completely registered yet, but yes. I’m so happy, Xi. And Yalnïk, ugh. The man is so damn excited. He’s already hovering and-”

“D’av! Do you want ovumshrooms?” 

“Yes, please,” she answered her mate who was currently putting out their food. “He’s the best isn’t he? I mean look at his face, and his body. I’m the luckiest woman in this entire clan, aren’t I?” 

Xi smiled, she felt the exact same way about her own husband. 

She turned towards her son when she heard his cry of frustration. Tuk had just taken something out of his hand when he tried shoving it in his mouth. Zyden seemed to be telling her off in his baby speech, and kept reaching for it, whines turning fussier despite Tuk calmly telling him it wasn’t food. 

“Zyden,” Neteyam called from beside her. 

Their baby pointed at Tuk, as if begging his daddy to make her give it back to him. 

Xilä knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He was tired and cranky and fighting sleep ever since he missed his afternoon nap. She watched him struggle to decide whether to cry or not. Luckily, Zyden was distracted by L’eo’s giggle, so he crawled off towards cousins. 

L’eya was all smiles for the baby. She poked his nose in greeting, mouth full as she chewed her food. L’eo offered him some of the buoyfish he’d been feasting on but Sal was quick to give her youngest grandchild a piece of a mashed bean pod instead. 

D’avi’s low groan pulled Xi’s attention away from their children. Her nose was wrinkled at the meat in her husband’s leaf plate. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Yalnik moved his plate around so it wasn’t too close to her and struck up a conversation with Tasam and Kiri who were on his other side. 

“How are you feeling this time around?” Xi asked. She handed her sister a piece of cider root to chew on.

“My morning sickness feels more like all day sickness and I’ve got this lingering headache that refuses to go away. I’ve drank every tea possible to help ebb my symptoms and they all refuse to work. Can I come by the healer tents tomorrow? So you can check me over, make sure everything’s okay? I’ve been putting off doing that.”

“Of course, D’av.” 

“Eywa. Mother will be mighty pleased. Just look at her now.”

Sal was in her element. The grandmother had all three little ones surrounding her. It was impossible to miss the happiness radiating off of her.  

At home, Zyden was usually clingy with Xilä and she relished in the feeling of him being attached to her, whether it was to be carried or simply wanting her attention at all times. But she wouldn’t be lying when she said she also loved seeing Sprout socialize and bond with their family- especially with his grandparents. It was something she certainly never had growing up. 

Another fifteen minutes passed before it finally happened. 

“Xiiii!” Tuk groaned dramatically as she hefted and carried a wiggly crying Zyden from under his arms. The baby was already reaching out and calling for her. “Sprout wants you. Oof! He’s getting so heavy,” she half laughed, half huffed when handing him over. 

“Hello, my love, are you being a naughty Na'vi for your aunty Tuk?” 

Zyden didn’t waste any time, he stuck his little fist right down her top and gave a frustrated grizzle. 

“Thanks for taking care of him for us, Tuk.”

The little girl beamed at Xi’s praise, and giggled when Neteyam attacked her with his own brotherly affection before she dashed off. 

Xilä quickly tugged down the front of her top and Zyden eagerly found and latched onto her nipple to nurse. She smiled when his small sticky hand rested on her breast as his eyes instantly began to droop. 

“I’m surprised he lasted this long,” Neteyam joked. He leaned over to kiss and nuzzle Zyden’s chubby cheek as he suckled, soft feeding sounds and breathy baby gulps making him and Xi smile at each other. 

L’eo appeared not too long after, food grease shining all over his face and chest. “I all done wid my food,” he told his mother proudly.

D’avi chuckled. “Good job, baby.” She pulled him closer and wiped his face and hands despite his squirming. 

When he made his escape, he approached his aunty. “I play with Zyhen, pwease, addy Xi.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, sweetie, but he’s falling asleep.” Xi caressed his cheek in apology. “You’ll get to see him tomorrow, okay?” 

Poor L’eo looked so disappointed. His pout deepened when he turned to find his sister amongst their family, only to find she was already dozing in her grandfather’s lap. 

“C’mere bud,” Yalnïk reached out and scooped him up and D’avi turned to give them both her attention. 

Xi covered herself back up when she felt her nipple slip from Zyden’s lips.

“Oh he’s out,” Neteyam laughed. He gathered their milk drunk baby in his arms and wiped away the trail of liquid that ran down his chubby cheek and into his little neck folds.

“He’s growing up too fast,” Xi sighed, leaning against her husband to peer at their son. Their baby was sprawled without a care in the world, sticky coated skin, pudgy little tummy on display, tail curled up contentedly. “I feel like I blinked and now look at him. Gosh I’m going to miss this age.”

Neteyam nodded in agreement. He kissed her forehead then whispered, “I know the feeling all too well... But you know there’s a solution for that, right?” 

“What do you mean?” she murmured, perching her chin on his bicep. 

“You could always let me put another baby in you. Then another when they grow out of that age, and another when-”

Xilä pressed her fingers to his lips and snickered at his response. “May I remind you we are surrounded by our family. Don’t start with that if you’re not able to do anything about it right now,” she teased back. 

A dangerous glint shined in his eyes, nostrils flaring at her words. 

“I’m not teasing, Xilä. I'm completely serious.” 

“Oh I know. If it were up to you you’d keep me round and pregnant for an eternity, right?” She tucked a braid behind his ear, not so accidentally brushing the tip of his pointed ear with her thumb and smiled when he gave a subtle shudder. 

“You’re playing with fire, baby,” he warned but she simply gave him an innocent look and pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“But on a serious note,” she whispered, “is it terrible that I just want to enjoy it being the three of us for now? I’m not saying no indefinitely, after Zyden I know for sure I want more, but he’s not even a year old yet, he hasn’t even taken his first steps. I want to give him as much attention and love as I can until we decide for sure to grow our family.” 

“Nothing’s wrong with that, sweetheart. I like that plan.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sensed a lingering sadness from her, so to lighten the mood, he teased, “And anyway I’ll get to focus on getting my practice in while fucking you senseless.”

“Neteyam!” Her face bloomed in mortification and she glanced around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. 

There’s that smile he so loved to see. 

~

True to her word, L’eo got to see Zyden the next day. 

The boys played loudly with the many block pieces their grandfather had crafted for them. L’eya seemed to find them too rowdy for her, so she sat in her own little world with her toys until Tuk had come by and joined in with her. 

Xilä loved the sound of her son’s laugh and she loved the sounds of her home filled with children playing. 

Zyden squealed and clapped excitedly when L’eo knocked down their pile of wooden blocks and then the two went back to building it all over again- it was mostly L’eo, but Zyden sure helped by handing him each piece. 

They were so stinking cute. 

A little later on when he seemed to have grown bored, her son sought her out. He crawled after her and patted her calf, tiny palms opening and closing- asking for up. 

The second she lifted him, he cuddled her, little face snuggled into her neck and Xi soaked it all up. It was her favourite feeling in the universe. 

Neteyam looked up from his whittling and was quick to join the two. He tried burying his face on the other side of her neck, but Zyden wasn’t having it. 

Their son pushed his daddy’s face away along with a mess of protesting gibberish that had sounds like mama and dada scattered in between. 

“I want cuddles too, you can’t have her to yourself,” Neteyam quarrelled with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Ma-ma!” Zyden argued back fiercely. He leaned his head against hers- their cheeks squished together while he kept batting away his father’s affections for her.  

“Ah,” Neteyam dodged another fist. “I’ll have you know she was mine first.”

“Ma-ma!” Zyden’s both arms locked around her neck. He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek and grinned wide, and those four little teeth just about killed her. 

“Alright, alright. I’m jealous now. Come here, little man, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Neteyam stole him away and dramatically rolled them around on the floor. The baby shrieked and burst into breathy giggles as they play-fought. 

Feeling like he was missing out on the fun, L’eo ran and jumped in with a roar. “I rescue you Zyhen!” To which Neteyam pulled him in too. 

Xilä watched on and called out “oh no’s!” from the sidelines. Through her laughs she couldn’t help feel a bit emotional. Neteyam was an incredible mate, but he was an even better father. 

When he cried out asking for her to come save him, she eagerly and happily joined in until they were all a pile of giggling limbs. 

~

Pillow muffling her screams, Xilä arched as her mate licked her into another mind shattering orgasm. 

It was the middle of the night and she’d already woken on the cusp of one, finding her legs thrown over his broad shoulders with his head bobbing eagerly between her thighs, licking and sucking like a starved man… and he hadn’t moved since. 

“‘Teyam.” Shuddering as she came down from another high, she feebly tried to push his head away, hips failing to escape his clutches. She was too sensitive and he didn’t seem like he wanted to stop any time soon. 

Yet he only tightened his grips and spread her legs wider, holding her firm with a bossy growl. “One more.”

One more. One more. That’s what he’d said the last two times. 

Her voice hitched when he nipped then sucked her clit hard, silencing her protests. He stretched her with his fingers, adding one after the other until she was stuffed with all three- digits curling and fucking her just right. 

White noise clouded her ears and her eyes rolled into her head. Body seizing up as it quickly prepared to shatter again, she struggled to keep her moans at bay. Her poor knuckles were painfully white from their tight grips- one fisted in her mate’s hair, holding on for dear life while the other squeezed the pillow she was biting into. 

She could just about cry when Neteyam slowed his pace. The wicked man wanted to draw out her pleasure and no matter how much she tried to ride his fingers faster, she failed. 

He pushed her hand away when she dared to reach for her throbbing clit. Eywa. She was near delusional at this point. 

“Mine,” he’d snapped when she tried to touch again, and then as if teaching her a lesson, he simply reduced his actions even further, fingers curling deep and dragging torturously slow while he lazily lavished her clit with his tongue. 

Turned into a mewling weepy mess, she was completely at his mercy. It seemed almost never ending.

Embarrassingly loud slick sounds emitted with every motion of his fingers making her arousal drench everything- his hand, face, her thighs, their sheets- shit, she’d just changed these sheets. 

Xilä’s orgasm blindsided her, making her cry out and damn near suffocate her husband with her thighs as her entire body seized up. 

She was almost sure she’d momentarily blacked out too, because when she finally came to her senses, her deep, heavy panting had calmed and the strong ripples of pleasure and orgasmic aftershocks had ebbed away, leaving her with lingering tingles. 

Neteyam, as if he had all the time in the world, was sucking his fingers dry. It shouldn’t have been a sexy sight, but damn if it was. 

Damn him.  

Then the asshole dived back down to lick her clean. 

WACK.

“Baby!” His jaw dropped and he was staring at her in surprise. 

Xi had actually smacked him with her pillow when he had the audacity to run his tongue across her oversensitive clit. He got the message this time. He snickered and just moved along to lick away the slick that coated her inner thighs instead. 

Through their bond, tsaheylu still intact from when they went to sleep, she felt him. Like a rolling storm, he was all consuming. He was so pent up and clouded her with his intensity, she wouldn’t be surprised if he combusted just then and there. It felt good to be the cause of it, honestly. 

“You didn’t come?” Shit. She’d tried to move but her legs felt like flopping fish. 

He shook his head and got up on his knees. She was greeted by an angry leaking dick, throbbing and needy in front her face. 

Xilä licked her lips, and between her thighs pulsed at the sight of him. Sitting up, she watched him wrap a hand around himself and give a firm stroke, thumb swiping across his tip before dragging back down again. 

Although she was still a bit light headed, just like he’d done earlier, she batted his hand away to grip him herself. 

At this he let out a pleased little groan and threaded his fingers through her hair. His hips gave a sudden snap and his dick twitched when she pressed a teasing kiss to the head of it- barely even making contact. 

Xilä smirked when she felt his fingers tighten in her hair, pulling slightly at her roots. “Xilä,” he growled, sending a rippling shiver down her spine. 

“What?” she asked cunningly, “No teasing?”

Through their bond she felt his building frustration, his impatience, his need. Tail circling her wrist, he got her moving. 

So bossy.

She stroked his length and found her pace, setting a rhythm that had her mate quickly blowing out puffs of air as he seemed to be trying to keep his composure. 

Cute, she thought. With her free hand she stroked his tail- its tip still wrapped around her wrist, both hands moving in tandem. 

“Xi-”

Reading his mind, her eyes found his own, locked and dangerous and just what he needed to get closer to his peak. 

He was practically fucking her fist by now, and damn near exploded when her other hand left his tail to squeeze the base of his dick. 

Xi licked him again, tongue running up the underside of him, along a vein, then circling its head. That was it, he couldn’t control himself any longer, he came with a blinding force- a strangled endearment, falling from his lips. 

Hot seed spluttered from him, painting his stomach, Xi’s hand and her pouty lips, a drop even landed on her nose. 

A feeling of victory flooded Xilä. She loved seeing her mate come undone, loved seeing him lose control. A side of him she was the only one to ever see. 

She stroked him all the way through, till his shudders ceased and his body grew lax and so pliant she was able to pull him down, his massive frame covering her entirely. 

Their lips met in the middle for a searing, all consuming kiss. Xi could taste herself on his lips, she was sure it was the same for him. 

Breaking apart for a much needed breath of air, Neteyam nipped her bottom lip. “Sorry I woke you up.” 

Xilä laughed. “No you’re not.” 

He grinned too. “No I'm not.” 

After they basked in the afterglow for another couple minutes, they cleaned themselves up, using water and washcloths to bathe each other, mouths unable to stop stealing kisses and hands unable to stop caressing. 

Returning from checking on their son, he helped her strip their hammock and fasten a clean pelt before they both climbed in- him pulling her on top of his chest immediately. 

“Sprout was still asleep?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts. 

“Mhmm, out like a light.” He kissed her forehead and she snuggled closer. 

~

Somewhere between sleep and wake, Xi heard a hushed whisper. 

“Mama?”

She felt a familiar weight sat on top of her and the gentle pat, pat of a little palm on her cheek.

“Mama. Mama! Mommy wake up, I have to tell you something really portent.” 

“Mmm, I’m up, I’m up.” Xilä blinked awake to the view of her son’s sweet face. Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, she pulled him into her arms and across her chest, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. “Good morning, my love.” 

Zyden struggled a bit under his mother’s smothering, trying to wiggle out. “Mama stop,” he giggled. “Guess what?” His voice was dramatically hushed despite it only being the two of them in the room. 

“What?” she asked just as quietly to match his energy.

“Daddy say I can go fishing today!” Zyden shared, tail flicking in uncontrollable excitement behind him. As if reminding himself, he made a shhhh sound and pressed a finger to his lips before continuing softer. “And- and I get to use my new bow too. You know the one mama? The big boy one granpather Jxo make me? An- an L’eo and L’eya go too but no Js’avi, cause he-he too small still and then daddy show me how to catch the fish!” 

Xilä gasped dramatically as if she didn’t already know all of this. “Oh my Eywa! That’s all so exciting, my love!”

“Yah! I- I catch you a really big fish, mama. Den you cook it.”

“I like that idea. What kind of fish should I make?” She smiled tiredly and smoothed her hand over his hair. He looked so much like his daddy. 

“Zyden!” Neteyam walked into their room, hands on his hips with a disappointed expression. “I thought I told you we’d tell your mama later. She just fell asleep, son.”

Zyden jumped at being caught, his sweet excited face turning into one of guilt. Brow puckered into a tiny frown, he pointed at his mother, then said as if it made all the sense in the world, “But mama awake now daddy. So I tell her now. Later is too far.”  

Both parents couldn’t hold their amusement. 

This kid. 

“Alright little man, come on.” Neteyam grabbed him up and hung him upside down. Tickling his tummy, he made their son break out in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. 

“Da-ha-ddyy!” 

When he set him on his feet, his father said seriously, “Go on and have your breakfast. All fishermen need to have a good meal before they set off for the day.”

“Ohhhkaaay! Bye mama!” 

Neteyam blew out a breath and made his way over to Xi. “Sorry. I swear I only turned my back away for a second and then he disappeared.” 

“It’s fine,” she assured, stretching her neck and puckering her lips, begging for a kiss as if he hadn’t kissed her only three hours ago when she’d gotten home. 

Her husband obliged and when he pulled back he said, “We missed you last night.” 

“Me too. I'll try not to make it a habit, but I was really needed for the night shift. I’m sorry it was so last minute too.” 

“Stop,” he ordered, nipping her lip in rebuke. 

“But it was date night… We made a promise to never miss a date night. I feel terrible. I promise I’ll make it up to you and-” She was about to apologize again so he silenced her with another kiss. 

“Xilä. It’s your job, baby. You were needed. It's okay. And anyway, Sprout and I had an awesome guys night.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His voice drew to a deep whisper, “Although if you keep insisting on making it up to me, I’d really really like to fuck you later. It’s been ages.” 

Xi’s snicker was interrupted by a yawn. “You’re being dramatic. Oh that does remind me though, I need to get more Qla’ira root. I’m running out.” 

Neteyam got quiet. He perched his head on her chest, golden eyes almost pleading. “Or you could… not?” 

“Behave.” She batted him playfully and ran her fingers through his braids. 

“I’m being serious. You know Zyden’s been asking for a sibling lately.” 

“I know, but we agreed when he turned five, to start trying again, remember?”

“Technically, it’d be the same thing… If we get a head start from now, he’ll probably be five by the time-” 

“Zyden will be four in a couple months,” she laughed, cupping his face.

They heard a crash, followed by a, “Daaaddy! I had a naccident!” 

“Duty calls.” Neteyam lifted and hovered over her. “Get some sleep, alright? We’ll see you later. And we’re definitely not done talking about this.” 

“Daaadeeeee!” 

“Coming!”

Xi frowned, when he left. She didn’t know why she was even fighting this decision. She herself was ready for another child- and not just because of her mate’s pleas or their son’s little saddened face when he asked them how come he, “didn’t have a baby like L’eo and L’eya had Js’avi.”

Eywa had told her as much that she was ready as well. Her bond with the Great Mother had been growing stronger and stronger everyday. 

So what was stopping her?

~

Later that night, during a family dinner, the kids excitedly ranted about everything that happened that day- all talking over each other and fighting over the attention of the adults. 

It was a full family night. Neteyam and Xi’s home was not only filled with Jake and his family or Jxo and Sal. There was D’av, Yalnik and their three little ones. Also Yalnik’s twin and his mate along with their brood of five kids- who had also gone fishing. 

Xilä saluted the men for having to take on so many of them. She wished she got to see them at it, since apparently they’d roped along Tasam and Ze’lu to get in some practice. 

Speaking of, Tasam and Kiri had even joined their rowdy bunch tonight- newly mated after their courtship. Their story was incredibly sweet. They’d gone the traditional route and followed through the steps of the Omatikaya’s customs.  

Their love was blinding and Xi was so happy for them. Although it had been years now, she still noticed the one or two times poor Spider would shoot them concealed glances. She was rooting for her friend to find his happiness too.   

“An den I shot my bow like,” Sprout made a dramatic reenactment, “an VOOSH! My arrow went so far into the water, and- and-”

“And the same time I shot mine too!” L’eo chimed in. “And it hit a fish!”

“Oh my! You caught one, L’eo?” Sal asked, intrigued by their story. 

“No,” the boy said sadly. “The fish swam away. L’eya got one though.”

The little girl blushed when the room broke out into cheers for her. 

Xilä loved nights like these. Their family dinners were always a boisterous affair. She felt entirely whole- as if she belonged. A feeling she fought to find for years. 

She watched her son seated in the cradle of his dad’s legs. They were both talking animatedly with Mo’at whose aged face was nothing but smiles. 

Something within Xi suddenly clicked. That uncertain emotion that had been plaguing her now had an answer and a flare of guilt followed the revelation. 

Stephan had taught her an expression once, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

It made sense now why she herself kept putting off having another baby, because that’s what she’d been doing, wasn’t she?

Waiting for the other shoe to drop?

Waiting for things to go wrong, waiting to be told she no longer belonged. Waiting to see if she and her son would be casted out.

A weight lifted off her shoulders now that she knew what was holding her back. Stupid thoughts that would bear no fruits.

She had her whole life ahead of her. One filled with the joy and love of her and her mate, and of their children. Xi stared at her son, her son. Of course she’d wanted more of him, she Neteyam truly made ridiculously cute babies. 

Before she shook off her thoughts and returned to the present, she gave herself a mini metal pep talk- the reassurance that always seemed to help the times her mind clouded in darkness. 

She was here. 

She was safe. 

She was loved.

And she had found, her Safe Haven. 

 ~

Once again, my deepest thanks goes out to all of you who have taken this journey with me, to all of you who have read, and liked and commented.

Special thanks to all who gave suggestions and ideas. I love interacting and hearing your thoughts!

I poured my heart and soul into this story and the unbelievable feedback I've gotten- there's no greater gift.

Although there is one more part I'd like to put out- "a slice of life" to specify, I am officially marking this story as Complete!

Here's to more stories in the future ahead. 💛

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

[yanderes-galore]

I MISSED YESTERDAY I HOPE IM NOT TO LATE. hello hello, may i request a eclipse concept ? or maybe you can do eclipse with the prompt of 19 ? its up to you ! dm me if you need help with the prompt :) (also also, dm me if you got the request since tumblr tends to eat my requests.)

Hey! I apologize that I didn't see the DM part of this so I hope you saw this in the Current Drafts post :( Either way, I'll try my best since Eclipse unfortunately does not appear for long in the DLC! I haven't seen people write for Ruin Eclipse so here you go!

Note: I hope everyone enjoys the FNAF movie tomorrow! I'm not going to talk about it on here for a week after I see it!

Yandere! Eclipse Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Babying, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Overprotective behavior, Delusional behavior, Forced companionship.

Eclipse has been shown to be a balance between Sun and Moon after being reset.

Honestly there's a couple directions I think I could take with this character.

One is where you explore the abandoned Pizzaplex and find Eclipse after Cassie resets them.

Another is the classic one where you're a mechanic and feel you have to reset Sun and Moon due to... malfunctions (obsession).

The resulting reset causing Eclipse to appear.

Eclipse is described according to the wiki as gentle, whimsical, and calm.

They're playful yet responsible and aren't as "overwhelming" compared to their counterparts.

I have a feeling towards you they'd be almost parental in nature due to being programmed to work with kids.

The purpose of Eclipse in the series is unknown, at least to me.

Yet they seem to have the same objective as Sun and Moon, be a Daycare Attendant.

If they see you roaming the ruined Daycare like in the first idea, they'd assume you're lost!

You thought the daycare would be one of the safest places to flee to in the ruined Pizzaplex.

However, the sense of security you had is quickly doused the moment you see the damaged Daycare Attendant.

Yet their voice is calm and caring unlike their appearance.

In the first scenario Eclipse shows concern as to why you're in such a dangerous place.

Are you lost? You look too old to be in the Daycare!

As a result you gain a companion on your trip out of the Pizzaplex.

Yet there's a chance Eclipse won't let you leave by the end of it.

If they met you after you trying to figure out why the Daycare Attendant is malfunctioning then their obsession would be faster.

As in the second scenario there's already an established obsession.

You may be a mechanic in that one yet they feel you must be cared for!

They recall you are a close friend of theirs and they simply must help you along with the kids!

Pretty soon you start to regret activating the secret third mode of the Daycare Attendant.

Overall Eclipse displays traits more mature than the others.

While Sun and Moon act childish with you and drag you into games or naps, Eclipse stays calm when redirecting.

As Eclipse the two are one and no longer fight over you.

Regardless of how they feel about you they like to observe you.

They keep watch to make sure you're safe.

If you got into a dangerous situation, an event more likely in the first scenario, they quickly pull you away.

Reminder, Eclipse is still as tall as Sun and Moon.

They could easily scoop you up into their arms and out of danger if they feel you could get hurt.

Their overly caring nature makes them baby you more than their counterparts.

They aren't forcing naps or games, but they are much more concerned about your well-being.

The bot is always scanning your body to see any changes in heart rate or injuries.

Even if you are an adult I can see them playfully calling you a kid.

There's times they treat you like your glass, like if they don't take care of you, you'll break.

As a result they feel more like guardian than anything.

They pride themselves on being your "bestest friend" like their counterparts.

They also easily get attached to you.

For example, after traversing the ruined Pizzaplex in the first scenario, they'd be so torn at the idea of leaving their friend.

Were you planning on leaving them this whole time? Forever?

No, that can't be!

As a result... they may just drag you back with them.

In the second scenario they'll stick around you as you work.

They don't want to leave their special friend!

Eclipse would definitely be physically affectionate.

They'd love to hold you and not let you touch the ground.

The like to pinch your cheeks and coo.

They just adore you.

Meanwhile you feel embarrassed as their programming just knows how to treat you like a kid even if their feelings are more intense.

If you tried to leave them they're rather calm.

No... you aren't leaving! What are you saying?

Don't worry... you're just lost! They'll just pick you up again to calm you down!

Eclipse is delusional, while their counterparts are frantic when you try to leave, they just don't acknowledge it.

There's no need for their special friend to leave!

They can take care of you right here.

After all, to them, the Pizzaplex isn't closed.

Eclipse isn't violent so they wouldn't try to harm anyone.

They just want to care for their special friend, even if you panic and scream at them.

Why do you fight them?

They're just trying to show they care!

They aren't as jealous as their counterparts.

It's good to have friends!

But they're your special friend, aren't they?

Overall, Eclipse is the more parental Daycare Attendant.

They'll be calm with you and treat you with gentle care.

Why do you act like they'll hurt you!

They'd never!

Eclipse promises to take good care of you.

Even if it means trapping you in a dilapidated Pizzaplex.

[augustvandyne]

Could you write a Tim Bradford x reader where she is at a bank when it gets robbed. Worried Tim knowing she's inside and then all the comfort when he gets to her. Maybe she gets minorly injured somehow or maybe has a panic attack. TYIA!

yes yes yes!!!! i wasn’t even expecting anyone to send stuff in this early, but i’m excited to write for tim

panic attack

Today started like any other day.

You woke up beside a sleepy Tim, who ushered you both out of bed the second the both of you woke up. Although, you always made him lay with you for an extra hour.

It annoyed you most of the time, the waking up early, but you loved him anyways.

Today, you hated him for it.

You weren’t able to convince Tim to stay in bed to snuggle this morning, due to him being called in early for some follow up interrogations on a case from the night before.

It had him come home late last night, and you were asleep before he got home.

So you’d only talked to him this morning, for all of ten minutes.

To keep your mind off missing Tim today, you thought you’d do some laundry, clean around the house, made yourself breakfast.. but you’d done all that within the first two hours of the day.

You then realized you still had a check to cash at the bank, and when was a better time to do it then today, on your day off?

That was the mindset you had until you walked into the bank, a terrible feeling in your gut.

You shoot Tim a message that you had went to the bank, in case anything had happened to you. That was one thing Tim asked of you in your relationship—was to know you were safe. Not only because he’d seen things in his line of work, but also because he loves you and wants to see you’ve messaged him.

You send it to his city issued phone, that way if he didn’t have his own phone on him, he still knows where you are.

Tim was already on the way to that bank by the time you messaged him, but it was too late.

A friend of the robber had called in a tip to the station, and Tim signed him and Lucy up for it immediately.

He prayed you weren’t inside yet, but that hope died the second he saw your empty car.

Lucy has to get Sergeant Grey involved in calming Tim down, because he’s freaking out that bad.

He loves you so much. Ever since Isabel, he didn’t think he’d ever love anyone as much as he did her—but he does, and more.

Shots are fired, and he puts his thoughts aside, going into police mode. He’s going to treat this as if it were any other day.

You on the other hand, were freaking the freak out.

You hadn’t had a panic attack since you were a teenager, and you forgot how bad they knock you down.

You feel like you need an inhaler, but you don’t carry one around you anymore.

You were smart on your feet as soon as you heard the first shot. You took in your surroundings, and moved to behind the counter.

The robber was on his way behind the counter when you heard LAPD and SWAT enter the building.

You could hear Tim shouting orders, but Nolan was the one to get him to drop the gun and to calm the robber down—or so everyone thought.

Just as everyone thought the guy was gonna give up, he grabs you from behind the counter and pulls his second weapon out. A small knife, maybe used for fishing or just used as protection.

He doesn’t hold it to your neck, so they make the decision of shooting him.

When he falls to the ground, he makes a shallow slice in the side of your abdomen, to which you’re wincing about on the way out.

“Cmon, baby, lets go,” Tim is the first to your side, but everyone gives you sympathetic looks before attending to the other victims.

You let out a shaky sigh, still in the middle of your panic attack.

“It’s okay,” Tim rubs his hand over your face to wipe your tears to which you lean your full weight on him. Mentally and physically. “It’s okay. Come on, let’s get you checked out.”

“Tim-“

“I’m right here,” Tim holds your hand as they patch you up.

Your injury is minor, so all they have to do is clean it and put a bandage over your side.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

When home, Tim won’t take his eyes off you, and you seriously doubt he’ll go in to work tomorrow, knowing the “condition” you’re in. Tim’s words, not yours.

He has you laying your head on his chest and the television on with your favorite show.

There’ll be a lot more panic attacks, and a lot of begging Tim to do all the banking from now on, but how can you deny your love for this man?

He’s holding you even when it was just a tiny run- in and a little cut!

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxx - peeking

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

wc : 1.6 k

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language, depiction of an accident; electrocution, head injury

buy me coffee ?

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

For a moment the room was quiet and cold.

Mingi had come in with cake and coffee and you both had been silently taking a bite, waiting for the other person to talk. Well, the people who could talk at least. You didn't realize it but you kept glancing at your phone, worried that Yeosang might accidentally make a noise as you had put him on a call.

"Waiting for someone?" Mingi asked after taking a sip of his latte.

You shook your head and offered him a polite smile, "Nope, just don't want anyone to disturb us while we talk," and you cleared your throat, deciding that you should be the one who directed the conversation, "And I guess we should start talking now." Agreeing, Mingi straightened up and nod, "If you don't mind, I would like for you to explain your side first. Not because of anything, but I would like to get all of the information so I can process my feelings accordingly with the information I will reveal." He sounded so stocky and it made you crack a grin because he didn't sound like his usual self while simultaneously being his absolute genuine self, someone who is just curious.

"Fair enough," you agreed, taking a moment to think where you should start your story.

"So you know that I grew up with Wooyoung and I befriended Yeosang in middle school. It was safe to say I was one of the less popular crowd because I was trying to excel in school in hopes that my parents would give a shit about me if I had an achievement of my own. I didn't realize then that no matter how many prizes I won for math, science, art, debate, English, and more, they would simply not care because I'm not Wooyoung, the child they actually want and the child who's actually theirs. They didn't want me so much that they just pawned me off to my grandma and took Wooyoung to wherever he wanted so it became GLARINGLY obvious they didn't care about my existence at all. So I was bullied and while Wooyoung was a bystander, at age 9, he suddenly turned on me and joined in on the bullying, even giving ammunition, leading the bullying, and sending people at me. I don't know what changed but I do know that when we got to middle school, he became more vicious because I got close to Yeosang. See, Wooyoung wanted to befriend Yeosang because everyone likes Yeosang. I befriended Yeosang because we're the top 2 in the high-achieving class and this pissed Wooyoung off because he couldn't get to the same class because all of his work, all of his tests were copies of mine. So he became resentful of me and my parents allowed it. One day, sometimes during gym class, Yeosang came up to me and asked for my water because he had finished his and couldn't bear the walk to refill his water so I did, I gave him my water bottle and he downed it in one go. I didn't think much of it but not even 15 minutes later, while we were resting by the court, Yeosang fell to the ground looking pale and clammy, he was shivering and he was crying saying that his stomach was hurting so he was rushed to the hospital and I went with him. While he was being treated, I was suddenly called out and brought back to school, to the principal's office where I was informed that Yeosang had gotten alcohol poisoning from my water bottle. Long story short, I was told that Yeosang no longer felt safe with having me around the school and I was expelled within a day."

Mingi didn't even try to hide the surprised look on his face. His jaw was practically on the ground by the time you told him how you got expelled so easily. "Wait, they can't just expel you like that without any evidence," he was getting emotionally involved. Mingi didn't like hearing injustice in general and hearing what happened to you made his blood boil. You shrugged, a little too casually for someone who was retelling her shitty past, but at that point, you had to shield yourself from feeling the negativities all over again. "There were eyewitnesses around, everyone saw me handing him my water bottle before he dropped to the ground so it seemed like the case was clear. To them at least. I tried pleading my case, I tried telling them that I knew nothing but they wouldn't hear. Not even my parents. In fact, My dad dragged me to the hospital to face the Kangs, well Yeosang's parents at least because apparently Yeosang was terrified of me, and forced me to bow and apologize. Then that evening he kicked me out of his house without saying anything else and I cried in front of the gate for a solid two hours before giving up and leaving to go to my grandma's by myself."

You didn't realize how it happened but Mingi pulled you into an immediate hug, his body shaking from anger because he couldn't help but think of the younger version of you being treated worse than trash by the adults in your life.

"Thank God you're okay now," he said in a whispered tone. It surprised you because you had imagined that Mingi would be siding with Yeosang and Wooyoung despite saying that he trusted that each story has two versions. You absolutely thought that he would simply accept that there was your side that he could hear if he wanted to but not to this extent, not him taking your pain personally. It didn't even occurred to you that you shed a tear or two, or five until Mingi pulled back and frantically trying to reach the tissue on your desk.

"Yeosang's situation was odd even to the police," Mingi started, knowing that it was his turn to talk without having to be urged by you.

After wiping your tears, you cleared your throat and prepare yourself to listen to what Mingi had to say.

"They were suspicious of the circumstances because Yeosang was admitted due to electrocution but they couldn't figure out the head injury he sustained. The doctors analyzed him and declared that Yeosang sustained the injury before he was electrocuted, so it wasn't like he banged his head due to being electrocuted. Heck, they even found where Yeosang injured his head and it wasn't the ground, it was the wall. They theorized that Yeosang must not have completely lost his consciousness and was trying to get up only to electrocute himself on the open wires dangling by the electricity pole."

Your head was trying to make sense of things but instead of getting answers, it generated more questions. "Couldn't he have fallen or slipped or something?" you questioned and Mingi nodded firmly, "That's what they think. Based on the height of the area where they found the trace of impact, it seemed possible that Yeosang had slipped and hit his head. But it still doesn't answer a crucial question, why was Yeosang in the alley in the first place? His car was on the left side of the building and the alley was on the right side, logically speaking, Yeosang had no business being there unless maybe he was urinating in public or something but we all know Yeosang would never do that. He wouldn't even chew gum in public places." You may no longer know Yeosang, but you knew him enough to agree with Mingi.

Then another question popped into your head, "Well were there CCTV around? They must've seen something," "They're still trying to get the footage from the establishments around but the thing is, the police are not even investigating this properly, Yeosang's situation is not a priority so they've just been passively looking things over." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disbelief, "That makes no sense, they agreed that the circumstances were suspicious so why wouldn't they do anything?" "According to them, while it is suspicious, there were no evidence of foul play so they can't really do anything because, and i quote this directly from them, "there are more pressing cases they need to pursue", whatever the hell that means," Mingi huffed annoyedly.

Sure, you wanted to be as objective and as detached as you could towards the issue as this involved Yeosang, the same person who was part of the worst pain you've ever felt in your life. But you couldn't help but feel frustrated over the situation. You'd like to believe that it must have been because it would probably mean that you would be involved for longer than necessary. But you knew yourself well enough to acknowledge that the human side of you was trying to protest the unfairness.

"Hey," Mingi called out after a long pause, catching your attention. "I... This might mean nothing but I want you to know that I believe your side, I trust you," he looked abashed saying that and to be fair, Mingi didn't even know why he said that. What he knew was that you had been hurt by enough people, even people who were supposed to be your family. He didn't realize how much his consideration meant to you. Though you barely knew him, he had proven himself to be a trustworthy person who is capable of finding his own truth. So you gave him a small smile and reached forward to pat the back of his hand gently, "It means a lot to me, Mingi. Thank you," and Mingi, in return, broke out into a big smile.

Truly if life had taught you anything even after the worst of rain came down, completely drenching you and ruining your whole day, the sun will come out. It might take some time, and it might be infuriatingly slow, but it will. So with a glance at your strategically placed phone, you could only hope that your faith would not be shaken because boy oh boy it's going to be one heck of a rain.

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[lovelyney]

───────𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘──────

DESC: When your intrusive thoughts win you over, you start withdrawing from everyone, thinking that no one will notice. However, that is far from the truth.

PAIRINGS: Tighnari x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: self-harm, intrusive and suicidal thoughts, mental breakdowns, mentions of hallucinations, blood mentions

FLORIST’S NOTE: each and every flower has its own growing conditions; people are the same when it comes to healing from trauma or mental illness. do not rush yourself. you will bloom, i promise. give. yourself. time.

SONG: Fallen Down ― VGR, CG5

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

YOU FLINCHED BITTERLY as you finished off your last Withering Zone for the day—one of the disciples of dismay hitting your upper arm before it fully deteriorated. And since you were dealing with this one by yourself, you’d have to wait until you got back to Gandhara ville to treat it. Wincing in pain, you pressed your hand against the wound and hoped you’d be able to hide until you (semi) safely returned to your house in the ville. The farthest thing you wanted to do at the time was alert Collei and Tighnari, not with how fatigued you were.  

As you reached the village, you exhaled a sigh of relief—the sounds of laughter dampening your already bitter mood. Typically, you wouldn’t complain about such a positive thing, but as of late, your mental energy has drained unusually fast, and seeing people live so carelessly when you can’t is a very bittersweet thing.

“(NAME)! You’re back!” Collei hollered and ran over to you, a soft smile gracing her lips as you came in her line of sight. “How’d everything go? You didn’t get hurt, right?”  

You pressed your palm harder against your arm, hoping the blood that threatened to seep out wasn’t noticeable. “I’m fine, Collei. Everything went well! I’m just a little tired. . .” You assured, your voice breaking from your exhaustion. 

Her eyes softened. “I—I see! I’m glad to hear that. Go ahead and get some rest; I—I’ll tell master Tighnari you’ve returned.”

You smiled feebly, “thanks so much, Collei. I appreciate it.” Bidding the girl a quick goodbye, you strode into your small house, your body about ready to collapse. 

You walked into the bathroom and grabbed the necessary supplies to care for the laceration. Your medical knowledge was limited, but luckily, Tighnari gave you an entire lecture on how to cater to different kinds of wounds when you had gotten yourself injured in the forest alone. Gingerly pulling your sleeves up, you tried to tear your eyes away from all the scars that littered your skin. Whenever you looked at your self-injuries, they reminded you how terrible you felt about yourself. People always say scars are evidence that you’re strong, but all yours did was make you feel weak. You wanted to confidently say that you’re passed that part of your life, but truthfully, you started to feel yourself slip back into it. You haven’t mentioned it to anyone, fearing they’re going to label you as  “crazy” or simply just water down your feelings to “being dramatic.”

A familiar voice rang out and dragged you back to reality; “(NAME)? Are you in here? Collei told me you weren’t feeling well, so I came to personally see how you’re doing.”

You hurriedly finished up the bandages on your arm. “Coming!” you replied, leaving the bathroom and almost stumbling over your feet from how fast you moved. “H—hi, Tighnari! I’m alright, really. I’m just really tired,” you greeted, your shoulders tense from the ranger’s sudden visit.

Tighnari’s ears and nose twitched as he surveyed your expression. “I smell rubbing alcohol. You’re injured, aren’t you?” He asked curtly, his eyebrows furrowing.

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was far from possible to hide anything from Tighnari. You faltered, “[sighs]. Y—yes. . . But it’s nothing, really! One of the dismays just hit me before the zone fully dispersed.” Hearing your voice out loud made you want to shrink and hide.

Shaking his head dismissively, he stepped closer to you. “(NAME), I’m not worried about how well you performed I’m worried about you. Let me see the—”

“Nono! That—that won’t be necessary. I, um, already treated it. S—so, it’s fine now!” You blurted, your face burning with fear. You hadn’t shown anyone your self-harm scars, and you feared what he’d think of you if he did see them. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued talking. “Y—you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine, really. . .”

Tighnari’s ears lowered as he stared you down with a melancholy gaze. The biting fear in your (COLOR) eyes and voice had nearly caused his heart to jump out of his ribcage. He could clearly tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“[sighs]. Alright, I’ll trust your word. . . But if anything’s bothering you, physically or mentally, please don’t hesitate to come find me, alright? I really don’t mind taking care of you, (NAME).” Confided the ranger, softening his voice to ease a little of your apprehension.

Letting out a quiet breath of relief, you flopped down on your bed, your mattress bringing you some much-needed comfort. “Mhm. Thanks, Tighnari. . .” you muttered, your voice monotonous from your lack of energy.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt wrong to leave you alone when you clearly weren’t well, but maybe all you needed was some quality sleep. “Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. Sleep well, rosebud.” He spoke before leaving quietly, making sure to close the door behind him. 

Through your bitter emotions, you brightened up a little at the nickname he’d given you. “Rosebud, huh. . .” you thought and closed your eyes, mind weighing heavy with uneasiness for an unknown cause. 

“Will I ever have a chance to fully blossom?” 

You hugged your pillow tighter against your body as sunlight enveloped your room through your flowered curtains. It seemed your hypothesis from yesterday was correct; you were spiraling downwards back into your depression, judging by your lack of unwillingness to get up despite sleeping like a log the entire night.

Fluttering open your (COLOR) eyes, you peered up at your ceiling with a distant look. You doubted anyone came in to check on you; you didn’t consider yourself to be of significance to them. So it was natural they didn’t care, right?

Being alone with your intrusive thoughts with nothing else but the sound of the wind was excruciating—torture even. Whereas no matter what you did to try and move, the shackles that restrained you didn’t budge. Though you remembered how careless you’ve been with the withering zones and thought you maybe deserved to be alone—to feel the crushing weight of everything you thought you did wrong. 

Tears clouded in your eyes and fell down as the thoughts multiplied. And with each one, the light in your eyes that once rivaled the sun dulled to rival the twilight that washed over teyvat during the night.

KNOCK. KNOCK

“(NAME). . .? Are—are you feeling alright? You haven’t left your room at all today. . .” Collei’s warm voice asked on the other side of the door.

You jolted up and frantically rubbed your eyes, hoping to rid the evidence that showed you’d been crying. “Y—yeah, I’m in here! Sorry, I ended up oversleeping. . . Do you need me for something?” You answered and tossed your legs over the side of your bed.

She shook her head, “no no! Um, Tighnari specifically told me that you should spend today getting all the rest you need. So you oversleeping is not an issue at all!” Her eyes followed down to your injury. “H—how’s your arm feeling?”

You winced as you remembered yesterday’s events. You murmured, “ah, an—about that. . . I’m sorry for hiding it from you. I—I didn’t want you to worry.” 

Collei offered you an apologetic smile. “Please don’t apologize! I—I’m just glad you treated it. . .” she reassured. Her smile fell when she regarded your puffy eyes and wet cheeks. “(NAME). . . Are—are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look so drained. . . You know you can always come to master Tighnari or me if anything’s bothering you, r—right?” Worried the trainee. 

“She’s lying to make you feel better. Nobody actually cares about you.”

“All you do is make things worse. You’re nothing but a burden to everyone around you.”

Biting back another tsunami of tears, you cleared your throat and compelled a weak smile. “I appreciate that, Collei. But I promise I’m alright! I just, um, need to lay down for a bit more. . .” you said feebly. “Way to go; you made it sound like you’re trying to get rid of her. Now she’s sure to hate you.”

She nodded understandingly, her expression warm and gentle. She insisted, “t—that’s perfectly fine, (NAME)! I’ll leave so you can rest, b—but please come get someone if you feel the need to!” 

You watched her leave with a sigh, your gaze lingering on your bedside drawer. “I should at least change clothes. . .” You uttered and picked out some comfier-looking clothes to throw on. As you dressed, your eyes continued to fixate on one of your drawers. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Go on, do it.” You fell on your bed and tightly shut your eyes, mustering up all your strength to ignore your thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Collei strutted up to Tighnari and tapped his shoulder, the nervous feeling in her stomach increasing. “H—hey master Tighnari. . . Are you busy right now? T—there’s something I want to talk to you about.” She hesitated, her eyes fleeting back to your house every now and then.

The fennec’s ears wiggled as he turned around, immediately noticing her anxious countenance. “No, I’m not. What’s wrong? Is it about (NAME)?” He inquired. He wasn’t certain why you were the first thing that came to mind; maybe because he was already so worried about you. Seing her nod, Tighnari’s stomach flipped upside down. “They’re. . . they’re not doing well, are they?”  

Collei’s eyes glossed over with tears as she shook her head. “I’m worried about them, Master. . . Like really worried. They kept pressing they were okay, but the look in their eyes felt so. . . numb and impassive,” she explained.

Tighnari stressfully sighed as he tried to think of the best way to confront the situation without hurting you. He didn’t want to press you to say anything you weren’t comfortable with, but he also didn’t want you going through this alone. “Alright. Collei, could you take my place in this week’s outings? Normally I would have you watch over them, but I’d rather take care of them myself in this particular case. . .” Requested the boy, his ears drooping as his heart hammered against his chest. Her statement about you having a numb look in your eyes gravely worried him.

“Of course! Do you want me to go tell the others?” 

He nodded, “that’d be great. . . Thanks a lot, Collei.”

Your back pushed against the wall as your head dropped further into your hands. You don’t know why you thought sleeping would magically fix everything. It didn’t help that you felt incredibly abandoned, despite being surrounded by people. People who, deep down inside, you knew cared and would help you without a doubt if you were to just ask. But each time you even considered asking for help, a mocking voice would belittle you for even thinking someone loved you. After hearing it so many times, you think you’d be able to successfully ignore it, but no. Instead, it dragged you farther down inside the grave you put yourself in. And the worse part was that there was no one around to help pull you back up, making the desire to give up increasingly stronger.

“Then why don’t you do it? It’s not like anyone here would care anyways.” A distorted, yet incredibly familiar, voice whispered in your ear.

Lifting your head up to look up, your entire body stiffened as you saw what looked like a hazy deformity of Tighnari. Even though you knew it wasn’t actually him, your mentality was shattered, and so was your sense of reality, so it got into your head with a snap of a finger; what worsened it was that it sounded exactly like him. You closed your eyes and covered your ears, striving to slow your rapid heart rate and clear your mind. “Go away. . .” you thought, fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Why don’t you give up and make everyone’s job easier? You know you aren’t wanted here. Your only chance at being useful is to just rid yourself, so you’re not in everybody’s way.”

Shakily forcing yourself up, you staggered into the kitchen—feeling like the only way to quiet your thoughts was to harm yourself. You promised yourself you wouldn’t put yourself through this again, but you’d instead do that than cave into your thoughts. 

Somehow, you clung to the last drop of hope that lingered inside your head—the hope that desperately called, “hang on just a little longer, and I promise everything’s going to be okay; YOU’RE going to be okay.”

Tighnari ambled to your front door, ears pressed tightly against his head as he knocked. “(NAME)? Can I come in? If you’re feeling well enough to talk, there’s something I’d like to ask. . .” He called gently. His ears flicked up and picked up the sound of your crying. Throat tightening, he knocked again, this time more urgently, hating every second wasted by not being with you. “(NAME), if you don’t open this door, I will find another way in! Let me help you, please!” Shouted the ranger, trying desperately to turn the doorknob. “Fuck this. No way in hell am I leaving them alone in there.” he thought before lock-picking your window and sliding inside.

“(NAME)!” he yelled as he raced inside the kitchen, finding you with a kitchen knife in your hands—blood dripping down your arms and covering the tip of the blade. It felt like a life or death situation as he stepped closer, never once taking his eyes off you. You looked so fragile as if you could completely break at one wrong action or word. “(NAME). . . Please, put—put the knife down.” Tighnari pleaded and bit his lip, trying his best to keep it together for your sake. “I’m here now. You don’t have to bear through this alone any longer. . .”

Your head suddenly fell silent at the sound of his concerned and hopeless tone—a prominent distinction from the one your hallucination had given him. Your strength left your body, and you dropped the knife, tears flooding your (COLOR) eyes and falling down endlessly.

The second the knife hit the floor, Tighnari rushed to your side and dragged you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder. His hand firmly held the back of your head as he rocked you back and forth, terrified you’d drop dead at any moment. He murmured, “it’s okay, rosebud. . . I’m here now. Nothing can hurt you. . .” His turquoise eyes fell to the floor, giving the knife a sharp kick, sending it skating across the floor. Feeling you latch onto his hoodie, he pulled you tighter against him, careful not to hit your bloodied arms. 

Every bottled-up emotion you had exploded just like that—each and every self-destructive thought twisted into a heavy sob. And with each one, your knees caved further and further in til’ you couldn’t stand upright. 

Tighnari was quick to catch you before your body hit the floor, his arms soon finding their way around you again. He stayed quiet, however, pressing small pecks to your forehead to show you that he was there—that he cared. He hadn’t heard such gut-wrenching sobs in all his life, and to hear it from you, his favorite person, made him want to cry. 

After a few minutes, your cries quieted to sniffles, and eventually, you had utterly enfeebled yourself. Tighnari showed a faint smile, “alright, rosebud. I’m going to carry you to my house so I can properly care for your wounds. Close your eyes and rest for a while, okay? I can see how tired you are. . . I’ll be right with you when you first wake, I promise.”

You gave a weak nod and leaned your head against his chest, finally deciding to give your mind and body a proper rest. 

You stirred awake, head throbbing and memories blurred, to the sensation of someone gently patting your face with a cold washcloth. “Hmmn. . .” you muttered groggily, your eyes refusing to open.

“You’re awake. . . How’re you feeling?” Tighnari asked from beside you and set the cloth down, his gaze now fully fixed on you. “Do you need/want anything?”

Your breath hitched as you recalled what happened. Looking down, you noticed your arms, both sore, were neatly swathed in bandages. “I—I feel so numb. I’m—I’m so sorry, Tighnari. . .”

He shook his head and handed you a cup of a calming tea he had put together. “Rosebud, please. You have no reason to apologize. I should be the one saying sorry. I felt something was off with you and brushed it off.” He lamented, carefully caressing your cheek and brushing away the tears in your eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, okay? Just know that you’re safe here—both from the outside and yourself. Nothing’s happening to you under my watch.”

You took a trembling breath as you sipped the tea. The intensity of his love made you feel small as he stared at you. “I’m sorry I never told you of my past with this. . . I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, but everything got so loud—my thoughts, the world, everything. It hurt so much, Tighnari. . . So much that it manifested a hallucination of you. I—I was so scared and so alone. I tried so hard to cry for help, but it was like I lost my ability to talk. . .” You described.

Tighnari’s large ears twitched slightly as he carefully listened to every word you expressed, ensuring he understood everything before offering input. As he pondered what to say, his eyes dropped to your bandaged arms. The idea you’ve already gone through this process alone made him sick.

He mused, “(NAME) it’s your story to tell, not mine. In no way am I mad at you for not telling me of this sooner. . . I’m proud of you for speaking about it even now, given it’s something you’d rather not reminisce about. . .”

“I can tell by looking at you that you’ve been through so much. I know you might think otherwise, but you’re so strong. Despite going through hell and back, you remain incredibly empathetic and caring. Do you know how impressive that is?   

“I can guarantee you that whatever bullshit your mind fed these last three days is only food for your depression; that’s it. I can’t stress enough how much everyone here adores you—including me. rosebud, you’re so incredibly beautiful, from the inside and out. The way you flourish and flower is something I wish I could see every day. The thought of you wilting, let alone by your own hands, terrifies me. Archons, (NAME), you might not see it, but you’re perfect in every way.”

Tighnari finished and kissed the pads of your fingers, watching as your eyes glazed over with tears.

Each word echoed in your head until your mentality began to heal. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to feel someone’s arms around you until he pulled you in his and kissed away the tears that fell from your (COLOR) eyes. 

You rested your head against his chest, racking through your brain to try and think of something to say. “What—what did you mean when you said you adored me. . .?” You mumbled. “Really (NAME)? That’s what you come up with?” 

Tighnari laughed warmly as his fingers smoothed your (COLOR) hair. “Is that what’s gotten you so quiet? Well, rosebud, I mean exactly what I say. I adore you. Collei always tells me how obvious my feelings for you are, but I didn’t want to rush anything between us, especially with how you’re feeling now. But I have an inkling that the reason why your depression chose me to manifest is because you feel the same. . .” He cooed.

You fell silent as thoughts swarmed your mind, none of which proved helpful in your situation. “Come on, (NAME)! Say something!” you thought and bit your lip. “Y—you might be right. . .” you replied quietly, slipping your fingers into his.

Tighnari smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “That so? Good, because I took the rest of the week off to look after you, and you’re going to stay at my house for that time.”

“That’s fine with me, but where am I going to sleep? I—I don’t want to kick you off your bed. . .” You wondered.

He chuckled, tail wrapping around your waist comfortably. “You’re sleeping with me, silly. That way, I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re sleeping alright. Judging by the circles under your eyes, you’ve been struggling. . .” He hummed and started to rub circles on your side. “I already moved most of your things here while you slept; do you have anything that helps you sleep better at night? I’m going to have you drink a calming tea beforehand, but do you have a certain routine you need to do?”

You smiled a genuine smile, his calming and caring demeanor soothing your doubts. “No. . . I think having you by my side will be enough. . . Thank you, Tighnari. I—I appreciate it so much.”

“Oh, (NAME). . . You don’t have to thank me in the slightest. I’d do this 10 times over if you asked. I’d do just about anything for you. . .”