#in case they don’t get to see them through to a proper end

[captainclickycat]

I am hoping, in a vaguely optimistic sort of way, that at least networks might start thinking twice about axing or slashing the budget of shows without letting them pan out in a natural way if they’re facing a lot of backlash for it. Might be a bit of a rose-tinted stance but it would be nice to think that making a fuss could pave the way for future good shows to flourish, even if it doesn’t bring back this one.

I’m going to level with you all and take off my clown wig and nose for a minute. Are the chances slim? Yes. Is it so so easy to lose hope in these conditions? Yes. But if we have even a sliver of a chance I will not stop. This show gave me everything I ever needed. A place to laugh, a community, safety, love, tears, but most of all it gave me love for myself. To see myself on that screen in a romantic way? That changed everything for me. I am lovable, my love is beautiful, this show gave me that. And I will never EVER stop fighting for it to get the ending it deserves.

[leth-writes]

Yandere platonic The Boys

Your background, in some ways, is similar to Homelander’s. You were kept captive most of your childhood, forced to practice your abilities constantly until you lost sight of what you even truly looked like

You spent so much time forced to be somebody else that you ended up losing your own identity.

Vought has created the perfect one-person PR campaign; you’re always there to promote or disgrace anyone they need you to. You’ve never even had the option to rebel.

Soon after Starlight is introduced into the Seven, you manage to get out, running barefoot through the front doors with a chain trailing behind you.

Homelander is put on the case, assigned to track down the little science experiment.

He has no qualms with it; if all that was done to him, why should you get to leave when he can’t?

That attitude lasts until he finally corners you in an alley.

All he can see is the bright whites of your panicked eyes; you’re crouched behind a trash can, eyes wild and anxious, hair ragged and skin marred with scratches and cuts. There’s just something… off about you. Like a person, just to the left.

Some deep, buried part of him just snaps, pushing itself to the surface and suddenly he’s 5 again, terrified and staring up at the cruel, blank faces of the doctors hurting him over and over.

He can’t let that happen, not to you. You just awaken that paternal instinct, somehow.

From that moment on, Vought can’t touch you. You’ve got your very own superhero, shielding you from those sterile labs and cold faces.

He takes you back to his apartment and dumps every blanket he can find on top of you, getting you nice and comfortable. Then, he flies back and kills the doctors responsible for your pain.

You’re shaking and shivering, confused and completely unaware of the world at large. You hadn’t ever been able to watch tv, or talk to anyone outside of Vought, so you don’t even know who he is. You aren’t scared of him, which is refreshing. For once, he has someone who doesn’t know anything about his reputation and is looking to him for protection not because he’s Homelander, but because of the real him.

You’re completely isolated.

When he returns, he tells you you’re safe and that he’ll be your father. You’ll form a family together, a strong one, and you’ll never have to be alone again.

As a paternal figure, Homelander seeks to help you understand your true identity. Any pictures of who you once were are all long gone, but he’s going to help you forge a new identity, one he approves of, of course.

He lets you stay in his apartment watching movies and catching up on pop culture while he does his job, returning to get dinner from his cook to feed you. You aren’t allowed to talk to any of the various workers that maintain the apartment, but you’re so scared of them you don’t even notice. Homelander is essentially the only person who’s ever been nice to you, so you look to him for his opinion before you do anything

The control inflates Homelander’s ego even farther. While Ryan was able to be independent, especially because Homelander entered his life so late, he’s really able to shape you in a way he wouldn’t be able to do to anyone else

He tries to get you into his hobbies, talking for hours about American history and his career. He only talks about the positive moments, of course.

He also makes sure to show you all his movies, which you absolutely eat up. He definitely has to explain to you that no, this isn’t something that really happened, it’s just a story.

As the months pass, you get more and more comfortable and start longing to go outside. He reintroduces you to Vought, letting you meet the 7; after he spent an hour lecturing them on proper behavior first, of course.

He keeps you far away from the Deep and Translucent if they’re still present, and definitely tries to keep you away from Starlight; he doesn’t want you getting too close to such a rebellious spirit and being corrupted by her and her terrorist boyfriend, afterall. He trusts Maeve to look after you (at least in the earlier seasons) if he ever has to do something while you’re in the tower.

You, of course, gravitate right to Starlight. You love her ability, and immediately morph into her to show your excitement. You’ve started to view your powers as a positive, rather than fearing them for their connection to the doctors, and you often show your affection by transforming into your vision of the person you’re talking to. It’s how Homelander gauges your reactions to him; he can tell, based on how you transform, how you feel about him. You tend to exaggerate the kindness of his eyes and the curve of his mouth, and you always make him look so soft and gentle, it really helps with that anxiety, that fear of you leaving him and destroying your family

With Starlight, she finds it quite creepy at first, at least before she notices you’re exaggerating the features you believe really represent her. You’ve made her hair softer, framing her face perfectly, and made her look a lot happier; you see her as a soft, comforting figure, almost like an older sister.

Starlight can feel her heart melt when she talks to you. You’re so sweet and oblivious, completely unaware of the monster you’re living with, and her goal shifts to include keeping you safe.

Thus begins the back and forth between Homelander and Starlight.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Day 16 - Flashing

Pairing: 1972!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.4K

TWs: Flashing (obv), piercings, dry humping.

Kinktober masterlist

Elvis looks out into the crowd and somewhere amongst the usual outstretched arms and screaming faces he sees you. He makes eye contact, and something about you makes him want to hold it a little longer than usual. And then all of a sudden you pull down your little strappy top, exposing your breasts. Luckily it’s during an instrumental, because he actually gasps. It’s not as if he’s never seen breasts before (he’s seen a lot of breasts) and it’s not as if he hasn’t been flashed before either. (In case you couldn’t work that out for yourself, he’s been flashed a lot of times too). It’s just, he swears your nipples are twinkling. Like they have something sparkly on them, or… in them? He’s just about managing to focus on them so he can work out exactly what’s happening when one of the security guards grabs hold of you and pulls you away. 

No. 

He strides over to Charlie. “Find me that woman,” he says, and then launches back into another verse. 

Poor Charlie spends a few stressful minutes finishing up the song before he can dive over to Jerry, who is standing at his usual place at the back of the stage, and ask him if he has any idea what on earth their boss is on about. Between Jerry and Joe, they figure out who you are and find you. Luckily you’d charmed the security guard into letting you stay in the venue, and although you’re surprised when Joe introduces you and explains what he wants, you don’t show it. After all, you’d flashed Elvis for a reason. 

***

Elvis is still in his sweaty jumpsuit when Joe produces you, like a rabbit from a hat. He huffs. He’d wanted to shower before he saw you, or at least he’d thought you’d just be brought into the car with him, or taken directly to the hotel. But Joe explains that for some complicated reason he’s not being driven straight away, like normal. Elvis doesn’t want all of these people in the room either. He usually likes a lot of company, but right now all he can think of is pulling that top down and having a proper look at what you’d flashed him earlier. He’s really been having some fun on this tour and he wants it to continue. 

“Hi there, honey,” he coos, dazzling you with eye contact. “Joe, get rid of everyone and close that door behind you.” 

Joe looks a little shocked but does as he’s told. The room is empty in two minutes flat, and Elvis turns to lock the door. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted us to have a little privacy.”

You think you should be afraid to be alone in a room with a man you’ve only just met, but something about him is instantly reassuring. And more than a little charming. 

“I don’t mind,” you reply, telling him your name when he asks.

You talk for a while. Even with the mood he’s in, Elvis finds it difficult to just ask you to pull your top down, but you notice him looking down every so often, eyes drawn to the way your nipples are showing through the fabric.

When he does it for about the fifth time in a row, you can’t help giggling. “You want another look?” 

“Uh.. what? I…uh…” he stumbles over his words, blushing in a way that you can’t help but find endearing. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Pulling your top up and over your head, you sit in front of him half-naked now. His eyes skate over your skin and settle on your nipples. They’re still sparkling. They’re pierced. You watch his eyes get wide as if he’s trying to comprehend something he’s never seen before. 

“You can touch if you want,” you tell him, gently. 

You’d never have believed Elvis Presley would be like this. He’s almost shy. His arm stretches out and his fingertips ghost over your nipple, cautiously but somehow sensually enough to make the hairs on your neck stand on end. 

“Is that okay?”

You nod, shuffling yourself a little closer to him on the sofa. “You can move them, you know. The piercings. It feels good.”

His expression changes from wary cautiousness to concentration as one hand cups your right breast and the other gently starts to twist the piercing in your left nipple. You let out a little sigh and he’s encouraged to carry on, manipulating one nipple with his fingers as he lets his tongue investigate the other. Whimpering, you dig your fingers into his sweaty hair, holding him in place. He’s good with his hands but his mouth is something else. You feel yourself instantly get wet thinking about what else he might be able to do with it. 

He pulls back and looks at you, your flushed face and nibbled on lower lip. He’s never seen pierced nipples before, and if someone had told him about them he’d probably have been freaked out. But he likes playing with them. And you seem to like him playing with them too. He lies you down on the sofa with him on top, kissing you thoroughly. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively and somehow you’re in the perfect position to feel his erection pressing against your clothed pussy. 

“Mmmm.”

He starts to roll his hips against you, feeling the delicious friction on his dick. He hasn’t done this in a long time. He’d usually go down on a girl these days, or maybe fuck if he was feeling particularly energetic. But rubbing himself on you feels so good, and it seems like you feel the same way, if your moans are anything to go by. 

“EP! EP!” 

Elvis groans at the shout from outside of the dressing room but doesn’t stop rutting his hips into you, even when he shouts back, “what?” 

“Two minutes! We’ve got to get in the car.”

He looks at you and rolls his eyes, making you giggle. He still doesn’t stop what he’s doing though, and you can feel your orgasm building. 

“Fine!”

His head dips down and he nibbles on your jaw. “You close, baby?”

You nod, frantically. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.”

You hang on around his neck as his movements get faster, eyes rolling back in your head at the sound of him grunting in your ear. 

“Fuck, baby.”

Somehow you both hit your highs at almost the same time, pleasure shooting through you as he feels warm wetness in his pants. He lies on top of you, panting a little and starting to feel a bit embarrassed about what he’s just done. You, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about it. Have you really just made him cum in his pants? In that gorgeous jumpsuit? 

“Did you cum?” You whisper.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, face hot with embarrassment. Firstly, that a girl said the word ‘cum’, and secondly that yes, he had indeed shot his load right in his pants, like a horny 18 year old. 

“Hmmm.”

You bite your lip. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He shifts to look into your eyes. “You need to stop all this cussing, little girl. Or I’ll have to wash your mouth out with soap.” 

He sounds deadly serious and you freeze for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing. You shove him in the chest as you laugh too. 

“You think it’s hot?” He asks, when he’s calmed down. 

You nod quickly. 

“EP!”

Elvis sighs loudly and sits up. “GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES!” He yells. 

The voice on the other side of the door apologises and its owner disappears. 

“Listen, honey. You wanna come back to the hotel with me tonight? And maybe on the rest of the tour?”

You sit up slowly, staring at him in shock. Truth be told, there’s not much keeping you here right now. You just can’t quite believe that he wants you to go on tour with him. 

“I’d love to.” 

He grins. He doesn’t want to let you go without ever seeing your pussy. Plus, you’re more than a little fun. 

“Just one condition,” you add.

“Hmmm?”

“You give me those pants you’re wearing.”

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

epilogue

previous parts:

1 2 3

in which you and reid are visiting your brother in hospital after he tried to commit a suicide

tw: mention of a suicide attempt

contents: spender reidxfem!bau!reader, it's an epilogue, please check the previous parts if you missed them!

words: 3.1k

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth, but they did. And what’s more, they were sincere.

It was late in the evening when you were heading back to the office in Quantico. No case ever ended with just catching the unsub – after that came the long hours of report writing and paperwork. After everything you’d been through, the team almost forbade you from taking on that task. Instead, they insisted that you go straight home and get some proper rest.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, like a child whose mother insists they zip up their jacket. Hotch was nowhere to be seen, Morgan was listening to music with his eyes closed, Emily and JJ were absorbed in their conversation, and Rossi… well, Rossi was doing whatever it is Rossi does. So, you reached for the case files and tucked yourself away in a quiet corner of the jet. You wanted to go over everything again, even though you knew that as soon as you saw Logan's photo, all the unpleasant memories would come rushing back with relentless force.

 But before you could open the folder to the first page, someone simply took it from your hands. You looked up to see none other than Reid—blue shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up, a look of perpetual sleeplessness, his usual worry, and… joy. Small, but noticeable.

You, too, were almost disturbingly happy. Escaping death filled you with a mood akin to the high after smoking two joints back-to-back. Of course, it would only last for a brief moment; by tomorrow, you’d likely be tossing and turning in bed, plagued by nightmares. A familiar pattern.

"I don’t even want to see you trying to work right now," Spencer said, taking a seat next to you and placing the folder beside him, just out of your reach. Or at least far enough that you’d have to put in some serious effort to grab it—and your sore ribs had no intention of letting you do that.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" you asked, rolling your eyes. "I don't want to sleep."

"Kafka on the Shore?" he suggested.

"I've already read it. By the way, what was the deal with the soldiers and the hut in the woods at the very end?"

"Well, that's an element that leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation."

"Thanks for the explanation, that told me a lot," you chuckled. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to get more comfortable in your spot, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. You hissed.

“They should have kept you in the hospital for at least one night,” Reid said, suddenly straightening up. “Do you need anything? There might be some ice around… or I could just leave, and you could lie down…”

“No. You’re staying,” you decided firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your abrupt response. You quickly followed up with an explanation. “Well, I’ve finished reading my book, and you took my files. So now you’re responsible for my potential boredom. It’s your duty to entertain me.”

“Yeah” he agreed with a smirk “It’s my duty” 

"So, how do you plan to do that? Are you going to dance? Sing? Juggle?"

"I can't dance or sing, and I don't have anything to juggle. Is it enough if we just talk? Or is that too common of an entertainment for you?"

You pretended to think for a moment.

"Fine, I guess."

"Then what are you planning to do when you get back?"

"Visit Jeremy."

"Oh, right, sorry…”

"Come on," you interrupted, waving your hand. A moment of silence followed as you hesitated before speaking again. However, you remembered that you had decided to stop staying silent about your worries and problems, at least in his presence. "It's just... it really stresses me out. I don't know how I should talk to him, I'm afraid I'll panic when I see him..."

Spencer cleared his throat before answering. 

“That... can really be tough,” he said, not bothering to lie or reassure you that everything would go perfectly. “But hey, remember that he’s probably looking forward to seeing his big sister. Even if you start talking about something you think is silly, he’ll be happy just to have you there.”

He made you smile, though the corners of your eyes began to gently dampen. You wiped them discreetly, not wanting to burst into tears on the jet.

"I hope you're right. And I hope he doesn't hate me for not being there for him..."

You stopped, feeling him take your hand. You realized you had been clenching it into a fist for quite some time.

"I don't know Jeremy, so I can only guess how he'll react. But I'm sure of one thing—he definitely doesn't hate you."

For a long time, you simply stared at your hand in his warm grip. Your fingers relaxed, releasing the tension that had been between them, becoming limp yet yearning for the touch.

"Spencer," you said suddenly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can ask you this... but... you've been there for me this whole time and... okay, I’ll understand if you say no, but... would you maybe... want to visit him with me? I don't know if I can do it alone."

You waited for his response, your heart beating faster with each passing moment. Maybe it was too much? Maybe you shouldn’t be asking him for something like this; maybe it crossed the line of your acquaintance? Just a year ago... no, even a week ago, you never would have imagined you’d be begging anyone for something like this. You would have forced yourself to do it alone, ignoring your fear.

He simply smiled.

"Of course, you can ask me to do that. And I'm glad I'll be able to accompany you."

*

The sound of quickly pressed keys echoed as you gave the hospital receptionist your brother’s last name.

The stark whiteness of the place and the blinding, intense light felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. The thought of seeing Jeremy soon made you tremble. You had so many questions for him, including why he even tried to take his own life, but you knew you couldn’t ask them just yet. He didn’t need an interrogation to satisfy your curiosity; he needed support.

You were so overwhelmed at the thought of seeing him that you shifted impatiently from foot to foot. You felt stressed but also excited. After all, he was your little brother, and you missed him. Standing beside you, Reid smiled slightly, noticing your behavior. If you were hurting him by squeezing his hand as tightly as you could, he didn’t let it show.

"Who are you to the patient?" the receptionist asked.

"His sister."

"And you?" she turned to Spencer.

"A frie—" he began, probably intending to say friend.

"Fiancé," you interrupted, quickly offering a word that began with the same letter. You worried that if the woman found out he wasn’t connected to you or Jeremy, she might ask him to stay in the waiting room. You didn’t expect him to go into Jeremy's room with you, but you wanted the reassurance that he’d be right outside, not on the other side of the hospital.

Reid first looked at you like you were crazy. You tried to silently signal him to join in on your desperate act. Luckily, he caught on incredibly fast.

"That's right, fiancé. Basically, husband. We're getting married... tomorrow," he improvised, nodding with such conviction that he almost seemed to believe it himself. "Well, actually, not tomorrow, but the day after, because tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re Catholic. In our religion, 

“Darling,” you gritted through your teeth, seeing the receptionist’s confused expression.

“In any case, I’m very close to the patient,” he emphasized.

If he said anything more, you would’ve nudged him with your elbow.

“Well… in that case… the patient is in room number fourteen. It’s that way…” She pointed in the right direction. You thanked her with an overly wide smile. “And… congratulations.”

“God bless you,” Reid said as he waved goodbye.

You quickly turned around, so she wouldn’t see your burst of laughter. As soon as you were out of the receptionist's sight, you hit him on the back so hard that a woman with a cast on her arm almost dropped her coffee. He laughed, and you awkwardly tried to hide how much the whole situation amused you as well.

“If I had let you say one more word, she wouldn’t have let either of us in,” you complained. “She would’ve thought we were freaks. Religious freaks. Or maybe point us to the psychiatric ward.”

“Hey, I’m not the best actor. You should know that,”

“I didn’t know. I’ll remember for next time, though I’m not sure if there will ever be another situation where you’ll need to pretend to be my husband.”

"Fiancé," he corrected. "You decided that yourself."

"Basically a husband. You decided that yourself."

You didn’t say anything more, only grabbed the edge of his coat sleeve to slow his pace. You were standing outside room 14, right in front of the door. You didn’t even peek inside; you weren’t ready to see Jeremy just yet.

“I need one more minute,” you whispered.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied gently.

 The playful mood that had accompanied you both was gone. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you stood on tiptoe and began adjusting his poorly tied scarf. 

“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath. “It’s been bothering me since I saw you.”

"I'll wait for you here, okay?" he asked quietly. Because you were so close to him, he barely had to raise his voice at all. "Jeremy doesn’t know me, I don’t want to just show up unannounced..."

“Are you coming in or what?”

You turned around, startled, to see none other than Jeremy. Lying on the hospital bed, poking at a container of chocolate pudding with a spoon, and most importantly, awake. 

At first, you were surprised, but soon emotion took control of your body, and you ran to him as if he were about to disappear.

"Oh my God, I can finally see you..." His shirt, which you hugged tightly, muffled your words.

"The pudding spilled on your jacket."

"I don't care."

He chuckled into your hair, holding you tighter. You stayed like that for a moment, desperately holding back tears. If even one had surfaced, you would’ve fallen apart like a child.

ou pulled away after a long time, immediately noticing that his eyes were also filled with tears. However, he quickly wiped them away with his hand. Still, he was a sixteen-year-old boy, and crying in front of his sister felt like public humiliation for him, a shame that would last forever. You tried to do everything you could to avoid looking at his wrists. Both hands were wrapped in bandages, and from the conversation with your father, you learned that they had put in a lot of stitches. You focused on looking at his face—young, similar to yours, with the same blue eyes.

"Are parents visiting you?"

He shrugged.

"Father, surprisingly, more often. Mother drops by irregularly and talks about strange things. Apparently, our neighbor's dog has worms, and it really pisses her off. My mother, not the neighbor. Though, probably the neighbor too..."

You didn't know why you started crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, your words slurring. “I should have gotten here earlier, and I didn’t. I regret so much that I didn’t, I’m sorry. I should have been here the moment you woke up.”

He didn’t say anything, letting you lament. Finally, you wiped away the last tear, then apologized to him about eighteen more times. You sat together in silence for a moment, busying yourself with wiping the dirty jacket. He wasn’t joking about the pudding.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged.

“Tolerable, I guess. By the way, who was that guy who came in with you?”

You turned toward the entrance, but Spencer was nowhere to be seen. He must have sat on one of the chairs outside the room, and knowing him, he’d probably started reading some medical brochure.

“A friend,” you replied briefly. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I brought him... It’s just…”

You didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t have made it here without support.

“He works for the FBI too?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Would he tell me more about the job than you do?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be dead serious.

“I won’t let him tell my little brother any graphic details.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“To me, you are, and always will be.”

He looked like he was holding back from sticking his tongue out at you.

“Call him,” he asked. “I’d love to meet your friend. Is he a friend, or a friend?”

“Jeremy, you’re ridiculous…”

But you fulfilled his request. Spencer stared at you with wide eyes when you told him that your brother wanted to see him. As he entered the room, he almost tripped over... probably his own feet, since there was nothing else to trip on. And that’s how the rest of the visit went, the three of you together. Jeremy alternated between complaining about the hospital food and bombarding Reid with questions about absolutely everything related to being a profiler. He had always been fascinated by it, but after everything that had happened to you, you couldn’t, with a clear conscience, recommend that job to him. Spencer had been explaining everything in detail to him, and for the next hour, you almost felt like an intruder in their private conversation, which amused you instead of offending you.

Spencer left a moment before you, giving you a chance to say goodbye to your brother privately. When you finally released him from your embrace, promising you'd come back tomorrow, the same nurse who had spoken with you at the reception entered the room. She was checking Jeremy’s condition as you headed for the exit.

“Wait,” she suddenly said. “I think your husband left his scarf.”

She held up the purple scarf, indeed Reid's. You were about to thank her and take it when you noticed Jeremy’s mouth hanging open, and with horror, you realized what she'd said.

"Forgive me, dear sister, but what the fuck?”

*

“So, he’s convinced that we had a secret, spontaneous wedding that you didn’t tell him about?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

In reality, Jeremy had probably realized immediately that there was a misunderstanding, but he just couldn’t pass up the chance to tease you. He would likely bring it up again for the rest of your life. You were also worried that you'd get an angry phone call from your mother asking why you didn’t mention your “wedding,” but overall, you were content with how the meeting went.

You both walked together in an unknown direction, neither of you sure when you should part ways or if you even wanted to. You didn’t want to, but you had no idea about him. The weather was much better than in the town where you had spent the last few days. The fewer trees meant that autumn wasn’t as pronounced. It was only present in the chilly, gusty wind.

"If you don't have any plans, how about going out to eat?" you suggested.

"Sure." Reid agreed immediately, and the corner of your mouth twitched at the speed of his response. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Well, anything. There's a good restaurant on the corner of this street... Oh, God, I just remembered, I owe someone dinner as a thank you."

"Dinner? As a thank you?" he repeated with a strange look on his face. Before he could say anything else, he caught himself and snorted. "Interesting. Just curious, is it someone I know?"

"Oh, you know him." You continued with a barely suppressed smile. "Do you remember James Rivas? The forest ranger?"

Reid literally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Dinner? With him?"

"That's right. Well, he saved my life, so I guess I owe him that."

You were shocked when you learned how your team knew where to find you after you were kidnapped. The bunker Osborne took you to was unknown to the local authorities, hidden deep in the forest, far from any paths. When the rumor spread through the town about who was responsible for the murders and that an FBI agent had been kidnapped, the forest ranger showed up at the police station. He revealed that he knew the place where you might have been held because, as a child, he used to go there with friends, including Logan Osborne.

But of course, you had no intention of taking him to dinner. You just wanted to laugh at Reid's reaction.

"You're absolutely not owed anything by him!" he blurted out with emotion, a hint of anger in his voice. "If he'd only remembered that he knew about the existence of some bunker, you wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. You wouldn't have had to go through that hell, and I wouldn't have been losing my mind the whole time, not knowing what happened to you. Plus, have you forgotten what an awful person he is? He's arrogant, self-absorbed, and full of self-admiration—do you really want to have dinner with someone like that...are you laughing?"

He furrowed his brow, completely confused by your reaction.

“God, Reid, I was just joking! I’d rather die than spend another hour with that jerk. Especially voluntarily,” you explained, laughing between words. Something in his remark made you smirk. “Were you really losing your mind when I was kidnapped? “

“You’re impossible," he snorted. “Where’s that restaurant?”

“Wait, don’t change the topic and answer my question”

He simply looked at you, tilting his head to the side.

 “Isn’t it obvious?”

taglist: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

thank you everyone for reading <3

[garciaasfluffypen]

things are changing (and only for the better)

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: dialouge heavy, alcohol use, discussions of ethical non-monagamy/polyamory a/n: please please PLEASE tell me if i get anything about polyamory wrong in this series. i myself am not polyamorous, and i want to do this justice. if i'm doing anything wrong or harmful in my writing please let me know.

it had been weeks since you had a girls night with emily and jj, and you were thanking all the gods out there that you finally got to have one. 

the team had been whisked off on three back to back cases, leaving everyone begging for the weekend off. once it was granted, the first text you got before you even left the office was a message from jj stating “our house, wine, 30 minutes?” with an outstanding “YES PLEASE!!” being sent back within seconds of receiving the text from your favorite blonde. emily and jj had been amazing to you since figuring out about your adhd diagnosis, and knew how deliberating it could be if you weren’t on your medication. the inattentiveness had been your downfall multiple times, but your team knew how to accommodate you and make sure all of your needs were met to ensure you could work at your full capacity. specifically jj and emily. 

being on the medication around the team was very important to you. it was something you had been weary of, keeping them from seeing your adhd funks. it still was something you didn’t want to subject them too just yet. despite being on the team for a few years and being friends with them for longer, you had done a good job at keeping the full nature of your funks away from the team and frankly… you wanted to keep it that way. the only person who had seen you in your funk so far was hotch, but that was because you had fallen asleep at the office on a thursday night and didn’t get the chance to pick up your meds on the way home from work. and besides, you didn’t want to hear it from them, about how stupid you were for not taking your medication when you relied on it to keep your brain from shutting down. it had happened before, you forgot your meds at your apartment and had a date that ultimately ended up in you staying at your exes place. when you woke up the next morning and realized, they were upset when they realized you would be in one of your funks and practically shoved you out the door. 

you’d hate yourself if you lost emily and jj like that. 

you shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed the fruit platter you had picked up from sam’s club on the way to the house, heading over to the side door that you knew led straight to the kitchen. emily and jj were quietly talking to themselves by the counter, sending a wave of worry through you. they couldn’t be talking about you, right? they invited you over, they wanted you here, they--

“y/n!” jj’s eyes lit up as she saw you, coming over and pulling you in for a hug. “i was starting to think you didn’t want to come.”

“i wanted to get the fruit platter you guys like.” you sheepishly replied, a red hue covering your cheeks. “i felt bad coming empty handed.” 

“you know you don’t have to bring us anything, lovey.” 

your heart jolted as emily called you lovey, the nickname naturally falling out of her lips. lovey… you liked that.  

“i know, but i wanted to.” you shrugged. “it's the least i can do for all you’ve done with me the past couple weeks.” 

“you having proper accommodations is important, y/n. we want you to be comfortable.” 

you smiled at the brunette. “it means a lot to me, really, and i never really properly thanked you for being so attentive to everything.” 

jj came to squeeze your hand. “you don’t need to thank us. just being here is more than enough.” 

the blush found it's way back to your cheeks as you looked down, barely registering the look emily and jj shared before you felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to make you look into emily’s eyes. that was something new, something she had never done with you before. 

and you… liked it? 

“what were you feeling for dinner?”

“i’m not super picky,” you paused. “on nights like these i typically do something easy like mac and cheese or ramen or something but we don’t have to do that if you guys want something else.” 

emily chuckled, a loving glint in her eye. “if you want mac and cheese, we can get mac and cheese.” 

“i don’t want to make you guys special order me mac and cheese, you really don’t--”

“y/n.” jj locked eyes with you. “it’s on us tonight, promise. go put on your cozy clothes and get comfortable, yeah? we’ll get dinner set.” 

“i don’t want to be a bother…” 

“you’re never a bother, not to us.” jj paused. “is your rejection dysphoria acting up again?” 

“a little bit.” 

“do you want to talk about it?”

“can i get a glass of wine in my system before we talk about it?”

“of course. now go get cozy, i’m ready to curl up on the couch and shit talk all the stupid people we’ve run into over the past few weeks.” 

jj watched you as you chuckled and sauntered off to the main room before quickly turning around and running to grab your go bag before heading back in. emily came up and wrapped her arms around jj from behind, placing her head on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“y’know, this could be the last moments of us without y/n in our lives.”

“emily!” jj swatted at her arm. “don’t you dare say that.” 

“i’m just saying!” emily shot jj a joking look. “considering how they reacted to the finger under the chin, i doubt that will be an issue we’ll need to worry about, though.” 

“i hope so.” jj turned so she was facing emily. “i really like them, i like them a lot. and i want them to know that i can love both of you equally.” 

“and we’ll explain it to them if they decide they want to be our girlfriend, yeah?” emily squeezed jj’s hands. “we’ll take it one step at a time.” 

“do you think they like us?” 

“i would sure hope so, or else they wouldn’t be here.” emily looked to jj. “do you think they don’t like us?”

“it’s hard to tell with them, i’ll be honest. i’m just nervous they’re going to say no and everything is going to be messed up. i don’t even know if we fully explained the polyamory thing to them.” 

“i don’t think we did either, now that i’m thinking about it.” emily bit her lip. “okay so we start with that then.” 

“we start with that.”

emily and jj found a restaurant with something all three of you would want before ordering, making sure it would be there in a timely manner before heading out into the living room. emily went to change into her comfy clothes first, leaving her in a pair of yale sweatpants and an old shirt of jj’s that neither of them knew the origins of. returning with the wine she had been itching to pull out all week, emily plopped herself down on the couch and handed you a glass, smiling at you fondly as you took it while you bounced a mile a minute, talking about something you had seen on tik tok on the jet earlier. jj changed into the flannel pants she had stolen from emily eons ago, a pale blue oversized t shirt sitting on her small frame. jj came and sat on the other side of you, the way the three of you typically sat during girls nights, both women giving you all the attention you could desire while on one of your tangents. 

something was off, though. you could feel the vibe shift about an hour and a half into the night, your meals all discarded on the coffee table while you and emily nursed another glass of wine. jj had opted for her favorite beer at that point, the bottle opener sitting next to an empty styrofoam container with the discards of jj’s meal. your energy slowly faded as the dread started to set in, the rejection sensitive dysphoria feelings coming in full swing. you felt yourself start to get into a daze, fingers playing with the hem of your tee as you stared off into space. it took emily a minute to realize what was happening before she placed a supportive arm around you and pulled you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“what’s up, y/n?”

“the vibe is off.” you said, quieter than you had been the rest of the night. “something’s wrong.” 

“well, we did want to tell you something.” jj started. “it’s not bad. nothing bad is happening right now, but we were holding off on telling you in case you didn’t…” she paused. “how do i say this without sounding like an asshole?”

“we’re scared that you’ll see us differently after we tell you what we want to talk to you about.” 

“okay…” you looked between them, noticing genuine concern. “i’m gonna need more wine, aren’t i?” 

emily chuckled, the smile you know and love crossing her features. “well, that depends on how you take what we’re about to tell you.”

“i don’t need to be scared, right?” 

“not at all.” jj squeezed your hand, coming closer to you on the couch and leaning into your other side. “unless you see like a ghost or something. then you can be scared.” 

you chuckled. “i doubt there’s going to be a ghost in your house, jayje.” 

“you never know!” jj smiled slightly, glad that you weren’t too deep into the feeling of despair and could joke with her. “all kidding aside, are you in a mental state to have this conversation or do you want to sober up a little bit?” 

“no no, i’m okay.” you nodded. “as long as i don’t stand up. that’s when it’s all going to go to my head.” 

“understandable.” emily rested her cheek against the top of your head. “remember how you saw me talking to tara about that girl i saw who i wanted to get to know?”

“um.. i think so. the one from the coffee shop?”

“exactly.” emily paused. “it didn’t work out, unfortunately, but that was partially because we hadn’t even began talking about this.” 

“so, as you know, we've been exploring the idea of… seeing other people.”  jj piped in, pausing to pick her next words carefully. “but we never fully explained to you what we meant by that.”

“we’ve been exploring polyamory.” it was emily’s turn to pause, gauging your reaction. “the two of us, sharing another partner.”

“cool.” you smiled, relieved it wasn’t something horrible. ”have you found anyone yet?” 

you could have sworn you saw both emily and jj visibly relax. 

“well, thats the thing. we’re not sure if they realized they were being flirted with… or that we’re interested in them that way.” 

you popped a grape in your mouth. “tell me everything, how does this work? wait! tell me about them!” 

emily smiled. “well, they’re easily one of our favorite people ever.” 

“have you known them long?” 

“about five years, give or take. em, when did we meet them?” 

“god, what was it… christmas of twenty nineteen, right?” 

interesting. you met the team in twenty nineteen after penelope dragged you to a girls night just after thanksgiving. what a coincidence. 

“they’ve been friends with us for a while. we’ve only recently started flirting with them about six months ago.” 

jj smiled fondly. “although like em said, we can’t tell if they’ve realized we’re flirting with them yet.”

“so they’re a bit aloof. that’s charming.” you smiled at them. “i’m so glad you guys found someone, i fully thought you guys were flirting with me these past few months.” 

there was an awkward pause. 

“wait… why are you… am i the someone?” 

emily cleared her throat, grabbing for her glass of wine. oh. 

oh.

“i am the someone.” 

“we like you, y/n.” jj grabbed your hand. “more than a friend. and i know that sounds weird, and you can say no- we’re not pressuring you to do anything or make any decisions tonight.” 

“i…” you paused. “how did you… are you guys okay? like, relationship wise?”

“we’re more than okay, i promise.” emily squeezed your other hand. 

“we’ve been talking about it, just the two of us, for a few months.” jj licked her lips. “the only other person who knows is tara, she’s gotten us in touch with a great support group that has everything we need to know about getting started.” 

“both of us realized we wanted something more, but didn’t want to end things at all.” emily explained. “we figured out that both of us had too much love to share with just one person, we wanted to share it with someone else.” 

“so… wait, can i ask questions?” 

“of course, babe.” 

“how would this work? the three of us?” you paused. “you’re… married.” 

“we know it won’t be easy, since you’ll never be able to officially legally be with both of us unless some magical law goes into effect that changes the world's view on polyamory. but, it would be like any normal relationship, but you would get both myself and jj. there would be boundaries and rules, and we would talk about those only if you want to give us a shot.” 

“we would want you to be as happy and relaxed and comfortable as you can be. everything is open to be talked about, especially when it comes to your comfort levels. and like we said, you can tell us to shut up whenever you want and we would.”

“and if i were to ask to kiss emily?” 

“then i would say yes, do it.”

“and the same goes for jj?”

“i would want you to do what makes you the happiest.” jj kicked emily’s shin. “i mean, i’d say yes.” 

“sorry i’m… i’m trying to wrap my brain around this. it’s being slow. you guys like me?” 

emily chuckled. “yes, lovey. a lot.” 

“more than you know.” jj nudged your shoulder lightly. “is that okay? that we both like you?”

“you know i’m queer, of course it's okay.” 

“but are you okay with that?” 

“why wouldn’t i be?” you looked between emily and jj. “have you gotten turned down before?”

“not in this aspect, no.” emily answered. “but yes, i have been turned down plenty of times.” 

“and i dated men in my past.” jj chuckled. “do with that information what you will.”

“yeah… men are stupid.” you chuckled. “okay so, hold on. i’d be dating both of you then?” 

“only if you want to.” 

“we’re not pressuring you at all. you can take some time to think about it-”

“- no no, it sounds really nice. dating both of you.” you smiled. “i just never thought…” 

“y/n, no matter what you think, you are loveable.” jj turned your face to look you in the eye. “you are loveable and you deserve the world.” 

“and we want to give you the world.” 

“we’d give you the universe, if we could.” 

“so what do you need from me?”

“your word.”

jj looked at you, a stern look overtaking her features. gods, did the room just get warmer?

“you tell us yes or no, and we go from there. we don’t want you to-”

“the answer is yes.” you stumbled over your words, jj’s look affecting you more than you thought. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.” 

both emily and jj let out a sigh of relief, bringing you in for a hug. it was real, it was happening. they didn’t read the situation wrong and you liked them back. you liked them back, and you said yes. 

“in that case, as our girlfriend, what do you want to do?” 

“can i kiss you?”

“of course you can.” 

you turned to jj. “and then can i kiss you?”

“please.” 

“then it's settled. i give you some smoochies, we binge ice cream and watch silly reality tv.” you smiled, nodding once. “the perfect night in.” 

emily and jj chuckled at your happiness, bringing you in as close as they could muster. you turned to emily first, placing a small peck on her lips to test the water before cupping her cheek, smiling into the kiss. you then turned to jj, who simply smiled widely at you before meeting you in the middle for the kiss. while it was an interesting scenario, you found yourself feeling comfortable. you were in the arms of two of the most important people in your life, and things were going to change. 

but they were changing for the better.

[ineffable-suffering]

Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why.

Okay. I’m not gonna beat around the bush for too long. It’s time now for me to also throw my try at a personal Good Omens Season 2 Magnum Opus into the mix of already existing magnum op..i? Opusses? (Smited? Smote?)

If I’m honest, it isn’t fully my own magnum opus, as I read this meta not too long ago that made me go: „Oh! My God! That’s it!“ And I’m pretty sure a lot of other people have clocked this too by now. Of course I’m not saying it’s the objective truth but after having mulled it over for many endless nights and days, wading through the onslaught of coffee theories, body swap theories, The Metatron re-writing the Book of Life theories and many, many more, this is the one I think is most plausible and, if you look closely, most obvious.

And it goes as such: Aziraphale lied.

To all of us. All of them. And most of all, to Crowley. He lied to him. Well, he sort of did and also sort of didn’t. He certainly didn’t tell the truth. At least not all of it. I hear you ask: “OP, what the fuck are you talking about”. I answer you: Let’s start from the top and under the cut.

(Small note: this meta ended up being way too large for Tumblr, which is why I will redirect you to an external doc at the end of the post, where I have written it all down nicely and accurately. It's about 35 digital A4-pages long, just in case you want to save it for later.)

(Word count: 12.831 | Approximate reading time: 50 minutes)

Let’s start with a short recap of what happens before the Metatron crashes the bookshop party and everything goes to shit. The proper visuals for this are in my Tumblr post but I am absolutely convinced that right up until when the Metatron comes to take Aziraphale away and talk to him, the angel is fully ready to get into Crowley’s Bentley-chariot and finally ride off into the sunset (or Alpha Centauri-set or whatever). You can see it in his face and body language. You can see when the penny drops for him that a) Crowley loves him b) he loves Crowley and c) they can finally start their happily ever after. Aziraphale realizes this all throughout said Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does. 

I mean, look at that. Look at it. This (very shitty recording, sorry, I'm not tech-savvy enough to avoid the Amazon Prime screen recording blocker) is the very second Aziraphale realizes hat Crowley loves him. When he hears him suggest Alpha bloody Centauri as a getaway for Gabriel and Beelzebub, as Crowley has done to Aziraphale for so, so many times now. He finally understands what Crowley was trying to tell him with that all those times.

Aziraphale realizes this all throughout the Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.

Right when Crowley suggest Alpha Centauri as a nice getaway spot to the two, Aziraphale looks at him and he gets it. That Crowley has loved him, has been loving him for millennia. Truthfully, they've both known that for a long while now. But there's a difference between knowing, wanting, craving and actually being able to finally have something. And that's exactly what we see on Aziraphale's face here. This is it. This is where it all starts working out for Crowley and him. This is were they can start their eternity together.

So from that second on, Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley. He keeps physically pawing at Crowley with complete heart eyes, as if to say „Look, look, that’s gonna be us too! Finally!" He’s actually so smitten that he doesn’t even hear what Crowley is saying when he asks Shax if he can have back his apartment now because he’s sick of living in his car. (Also, what way to drop that bomb right in this moment Crowley, lmao). 

Once the Metatron comes in, the first thing Aziraphale says is that they don’t need to talk because „he’s made his position quite clear“. He doesn’t even want to talk to the Metatron, because in his mind, he’s already made the choice. Actually, he made the choice way before the bookshop showdown. For starters, I’m convinced that the Jane Austen Ball actually never was for Maggie and Nina but for Crowley and him (you can read more about that here). And apart from that, for this whole season we have seen Aziraphale trying to advance his relationship with Crowley romantically and domestically and move them to the literal next base (our car!). And after everything he just witnessed with Brielzebub, the final nail in the coffin of ethereal-infernal romance being possible, his choice is absolutely crystal clear: It’s Crowley. It’s always been Crowley and it always will be Crowley. And now it can be Crowley. They can be an us.

The whole of Season 2 is such a massive learning curve for Aziraphale’s character, with him remembering all those important pivotal points of his past,  and this very moment is the peak, with him not only understanding that Crowley loves him (because he certainly knew for quite some centuries now) but accepting that love, letting himself have that love, being allowed to want that love and taking that love and starting their new and final chapter with it. Nevertheless, the plot clock ticks for them. The Metatron saunters into the bookshop, evil and stinky as Metatrons do, and urges Aziraphale to come with him with his whole Take The Coffee schtick, which I will get into later. And Aziraphale, immediately sensing there’s Something Up, does. Can’t really turn down someone as high-ranking as the the voice of God, after all. Even if you were currently already planning how you were going to elope with a certain red-haired serpent of Eden. 

he next time we see Aziraphale on screen, it’s so painfully evident on his face that he is neither happy nor excited. Not even the slightest bit. We’d know if he was, thanks to Mr. Michael master-of-microexpressions Sheen. None of the usual “Aziraphale is happy”-signs are there. No blinding eye-smile, no giddy wriggling, not giggles and gasps. No, when the Metatron tells Aziraphale to „go tell your friend the good news“, his expression looks like this:

I’m gonna go out on an entire limb here and say: That does not look like someone who’s absolutely tickety-boo hyped to tell his demon soulmate that he just got the juiciest promotion and that they can both be angels and live happily ever after in ethereal eternity now.

This, folks, looks like someone who knows exactly that the news he has to break right now, are going to be tickety-shit awful and very upsetting to said demon soulmate. And already, from that very short snippet of conversation, we can tell that Aziraphale isn’t really given a choice by the Metatron. Because while the Metatron does tell him that he doesn’t have to „answer right away“, he immediately follows it up by: „Go ahead and tell your friend the good news!“ Very distinct and definitive choice of words here. It’s “good news” because it’s already been decided. Because it’s already a done deal. There is no “yes, no, maybe”. This is the only choice he’s giving to Aziraphale. Because it’s ‘Coffee or death’. 

And he already gave him the coffee. 

***

Tumblr won't let me continue this over a certain character limit and I am not even remotely done yet – so, I feel like this is a good moment to redirect you to the continuation of this insane meta before we're in too deep. You can do so right here!

I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this once you've fought your way through it. Hope you have a good time with it!

[charliemwrites]

Three to Flee

Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol

Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.

Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring

Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.

Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.

The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.

“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.

Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.

Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.

“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”

Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”

All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.

“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”

Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”

Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”

Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”

Feral hums.

“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”

Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”

With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”

“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”

It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.

“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”

Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”

Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”

Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.

“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.

Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.

“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”

It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.

All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.

Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.

They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.

On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.

Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.

The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.

And then it all comes down to walking out the door.

The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…

“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.

All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.

They just left.

They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.

When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.

 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.

They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.

And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.

“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”

Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.

Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.

Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.

“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.

“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”

She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”

“You don’t want to.”

Her eyes well with tears. “No.”

Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.

“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”

Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”

And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.

Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.

[youcouldmakealife]

2024 Writing Wrap

Well, my goal for 2024 was 225,000 words, and I did exceed that, so I believe that is what we call a success. Never mind that my ~secret goal was 250k and that the 225k goal was just in case anything came up. And it did. So that is technically still a success! So I’m trying not to be grumbly about it.

What I’m not grumbly about at all is how, exactly, that final word count broke down by project (actual numbers below).

I don’t think the COTT and SAIT word counts could be closer than if I’d been intentionally trying to balance them. Which, I cannot stress enough, I was not. I was actually expecting a 2:1 COTT v SAIT ratio, mostly because, well, SAIT hasn’t been easy to write at times, and I was fully prepared for that to continue. But then something happened. I won’t investigate it too closely — gift horses, etc — but the floodgates finally broke, and a character that was so reluctant to speak honestly about himself and his life that it left him (and me) mute was suddenly willing to talk.

(We all know what happened. Robbie Lombardi happened.)

So, coming into this year I set myself a 13 part (approx 27.5k) goal for SAIT, and a 60k goal for COTT. They both ended up around 75k. Add in the SOTWs&Ms, which ended up around 65k combined (goal was 60k), and on all counts, I beat my individual project goals, and absolutely smashed the one for SAIT.

Considering this year I also got the TOTI paperback done and published the final installment of Between the Teeth, I think it was a pretty productive year, particularly considering I was finally diagnosed with Audhd in January, and have spent a lot of time and energy processing that, reframing a lot of things, and adjusting my work style to better accommodate my neurotype.

It's all been a big learning process, though one slightly derailed by the arrival of COVID and the…refusal to leave of COVID…and a fraught one at times, but it’s really been a relief to look at things like ‘this doesn’t work for me because my brain isn’t wired that way’ versus ‘this doesn’t work for me because I’m lazy/not trying hard enough/not living up to my ‘potential’, ad nauseum. It’s been…good. Tough, and emotional, and sometimes exhausting, but good. And I think that might be the other reason that Georgie started to speak again: how the fuck was I supposed to write him starting to move forward when I was still masking? How could I?

Meanwhile my other project was literally ‘okay, what if I worked through some of this by making my ADHD and my autism kiss? What if I did that?’ And COTT has been an absolute delight for me as a somewhat chaotic way for me to examine how these totally different beings co-exist. Throw in me shoving a ton of common romance tropes, gleefully undermining them (sometimes even intentionally! Though COTT can indeed be marked down as yet another failure in my quest to write some proper hate sex), a whole lot of ‘look, he actually gets me’ that is probably a liiiittle too close to home (and, I think, the home of most ND people), and everybody Doing Their Best (even when it fails, even when it doesn’t look like it, even when they aren’t rewarded for that), it is probably the closest thing I’ve ever written to pure Id fic, and I’m including the fucking Scouts here.

So thank you for all being very patient with me working through my ~stuff via narrative, and I’m really glad some of you (Audhd, autistic, ADHD, and otherwise) see yourselves reflected in Holden and/or James as well. Every single thing that annoys about them is probably something I do. (Uh. Off the ice. I don’t throw dirty hits. And I sadly don’t have a hockey room either.) I love them both a lot and I genuinely think my loving them, with all their faults (that are often my faults), has made my relationship with myself better, because I too am Always Doing My Best, even when it doesn’t look like it. And sometimes I forget that.

Okay, enough of the navel gazing, time for numbers!

These may seem slightly different than the word counts on, say, AO3, but at the end of each writing day I log my process. It’s always a little inflated -- some of it ends up on the cutting room floor, some of it applies to works currently still in progress, etc.

But, end of the year, here’s the breakdown*:

*rounded up/down to the nearest thousand, but that was the extent of the rounding, they're just naturally handsome numbers

Cards on the Table: 75k

Still Always in Tandem: 75k

SOTW/Ms and Extras: 82k

(Comprised of: SOTWs: 34k, SOTMs: 33k, Extras 15k)

For a combined total of 232k, squeaking in a mere 7k above my 225k goal.

But wait! There’s the misc (includes some Gritty work, last minute BTT additions, the bracket challenge, and other things that don’t fit the categories above), which adds an additional 13k.

So, in fact, it all adds up to 245k. Which is pretty damn close to 250k in my humble opinion, especially considering I spent a full quarter of 2024 sick. So I think we can call this year a success, at least on the writing front.

[descendantsramblings]

How about a Hook x Gn! Reader where They are dating but reader is insecure nd jealous cause Hook always flirts with others and is so charming. The two argue about it and reader breaksdown (and maybe hook accidentally hurting reader with his hook mid fight)

I love Hook so much, it was so fun threatening him :)

Bloody Charming

James Hook x Reader

Pronouns used: they/them/theirs

Summary: It was just a job, how did it end up with his back to the wall?

Warnings: Arguing, blood mention,death mention, sexual references but it’s not smut or anywhere close, they do choke him but it’s in the proper way not in the violent way, Hook cuts the reader (accidentally), swearing, jealousy that leads into a touch of possessive behavior, reader has cat king-esque magic again because it's so fun for me, reader is taller than Hook (imagine not being taller than 5’5, couldn’t be me -they say standing at 5’6), this is so toxic idk what possessed me, Hook likes being choked ig (I literally don’t know what possessed me), I don’t think this is a dead dove do not eat situation but just in case it is here.

Word Count: 2.5K

His hook glides gently through a girl’s hair, the boy smirking at her as it does, “Well Lass, I’m sure you can understand why dear Uli would be mad about such a thing, can’t you?” She giggles, eyes batting up at him as if she didn’t know he was taken. Everyone knew about Hook and (Y/n), she had to know he just wanted to get his way, didn’t she? “Well, I guess I can. What do you think she’s willing to trade me for her to get it back?” Hook laughs, crossing his arms over his chest as he raises an eyebrow, “Now Lass, I don’t see any world where Uliana trades you anything to get her bottle of Kraken Powder. You took something from her, and now she wants it back. There’s no chance of getting a ransom on it.” Something flickers across her face, rising from her seat as she dangles the bottle between her fingers, “Oh come on Captain, I’m sure we can work something out.” His face never falters and if it didn’t have (Y/n)’s blood boiling they would almost find it admirable. James would make a great spy, or poker player. The boy had amazing control of his facial features. “I don’t think I’m in the position to take ransoms on someone else’s behalf. How about you give me that bottle and I let you leave without any of my friends leaving their little hiding spots, huh?”

This girl seems to take that as more of a challenge, snatching the container just out of the pirate’s reach as he goes for it. “How about you give me a kiss and I’ll give it back?” That has (Y/n) leaving their hiding spot just past the side of the courtyard wall, strolling across the grass. Who does she think she is? Talking to their boyfriend like that. “Like I said Lass, I’m not in the place to be taking ransoms.” She nearly whines, reaching out to play with the chain around his neck, “Oh come on, it’s not like I’m asking for much, just one little kiss. No one would have to know.” (Y/n) makes their way behind James as she says it, the shock of their appearance being just enough to make her drop the little bottle. He quickly reaches out and barely catches it, sliding the Kraken Powder into his coat pocket as a hand slinks around his shoulder from behind.

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite catch it,” the grin on (Y/n)’s face as they say it is just barely holding back their aggression. She seems to know it too, shaking her head and backing away from the couple. Nearly running away, as if she was scared that the villain would just kill her then and there. Maybe they would, at least give her the prick of a thousand thorns. Though, walking the plank seems like it would do her more justice. Since she wants to play with pirates and all. “Yeah, what the fuck was that?” Their next words come as a growl in James’ ear, hand still planted harshly on his shoulder. “Just doing my job, Love.” “Oh yeah? And how far were you going to let her go to get your job done?” He sighs, drawing a hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Can we please not start something like this here? We’re in the courtyard, anyone could overhear.” With a snap, the two of them are standing in (Y/n)’s dorm, a playful smirk that barely hides their anger playing across their lips. “Okay, let’s do it here then, nice and private.” He knew that look in their eyes, anger that was thinly blanketed over insecurity. Uliana held it too; he even held it. But that doesn’t mean it looked good on his partner, especially when that look was aimed at him.

“Darling, you know I love you. I’d never let anything jeopardize that.” James is shaking their rough grip off his shoulder as he speaks. Had they ever touched him that aggressively? It’s not like this was that big a deal, he flirted to get his way all the time, there was no difference here, was there? Sure, he guesses they normally didn’t flirt right back but it’s not like he had any real interest in the girl. His heart sang for (Y/n), surely they knew that. “Okay,” and they laugh. This sick, twisted sound that should carry joy but was instead weighted to the ground with fury. “Then again, Hook, I’ll ask you: what the fuck was that?” Their lips are dripping venom, tone harsher than anything he’s ever heard come from them. And for what? Him doing what Uliana asked? Morgie would have done the same thing. It doesn’t make him a bad boyfriend, just a good villain.

“It was a job. I had it handled, the Kraken powder is back in the hands of villains and I am standing here notably unkissed. So let me ask you now, why does it matter?” His arms cross over his chest, glaring up at them with raised eyebrows. They would almost find the little attitude he took back against them charming, but Hook had used enough of his charm today. “Why does it matter?” Their brows raise too, another fiery and twisted laugh slipping off their tongue. “Yeah, why does it matter? It was just some harmless flirting. The job got done, that should be the fucking end of it.” (Y/n) scoffs, walking towards him with this look in their eye that had him backing up. That wasn’t insecurity anymore, he’d stepped on an exposed wire, struck a nerve that was never his to touch. He was in for it now, and maybe he deserved to be. Maybe it was a big deal.

“It matters because you’re mine, Hook. You are mine.” The last sentence comes out as if they were punctuating every word, eyes squinting as they put their arms out on either side of him. His back hits the wall, the face that normally looks at him in adoration towering over him in a rage, pinning him so he can’t get away from them. “I am,” he breathes, staring up at them as his heart pounds, “I am yours. I know that.” They dip down, nearly touching their nose to his. “Then why,” their voice is this sultry and slow hiss of a thing. Hook would find it extremely hot if it wasn’t directed at him. Incorrectly if you asked him, Hook was just doing a job, why couldn’t his partner get that? “Why were you letting that bitch put her hands all over what’s mine? Playing with your chain, were you gonna let her put her hands around your throat too? Huh, let her choke you while you kissed her?” A hand finds its way around his neck, gently squeezing it upwards, and James finds himself suddenly weak in the knees. It was hot, unbelievably mind-meltingly hot, how was he supposed to do anything with their hands on him and their lips this close? God he was so notably unkissed, how would they react if he just leaned up? He shakes his head, nearly whining as he stares up at them, “No. I wasn’t going to let her kiss me. I don’t want anyone’s lips but yours, Love.” “Liar.”

It makes his chest hurt, erupting this sense of fire through him as if they’d stabbed him and twisted the knife. James Hook was a lot of things. A villain, a pirate, a thief, a flirt, a boyfriend. But not once had he been a liar, not to them and not to his friends. He took pride on that fact, and by the gods above they knew that. How dare they? Suddenly this whole situation was significantly less hot. “You do not get to call me that. You know damn well I am not a liar.” His tone is just as fiery as theirs now, bucking up to them with a snarl on his lips. Now it was a real fight, they can work with that. “Yeah, Hook?” They back up, giving him space to fire back, he was just like the cannons on his ship and they had proudly lit the fuse. “Then why are you lying to me? We all know how badly you want to go back to it.” “Back to what? Some bitch who stole from us? I don’t even know her fucking name, (Y/n)!” He’s approaching them now, backing them up in the same way they’d done to him. And the villain is letting him, some odd sense of enjoyment on their face. Misery loves company, right? “No, the life of a flirt. Not that you ever left it, sure you might keep your hands to yourself but you still undress everyone you see with those big puppy dog eyes. I’m not an idiot.”

“Oh what, so I’m some big whore? I want you, if I didn’t I would have walked out of this room by now.” Their eyes flutter closed and that same sickening laugh slips from their lips, “Oh right, because that’s so easy to believe when you’re out here teasing anyone who looks at you. You love getting someone ready to drop to their knees, don’t play coy with me.” “God, it’s not real. The only real flirting I have ever done was to get you. I don’t want anyone ‘falling to their knees’ for me or whatever else you wanna call it. I want you, anything else is just an act. I only do it to make Uliana happy, I could care less for it.” “Yeah,” they scoff turning away from him, “Likely story, Hook.” They turn away from him, it didn’t matter if it was their room. They needed to leave, to go breathe. Find some air that wasn’t weighed down with the weight of this.

As they turn, he realizes what they’re doing. They were going to walk out on him again, to just leave and pretend nothing happened like they always do. Not this time, they do not get to just leave things open ended this time. He doesn’t think about it as his hooked hand shoots out, going to wrap the metal around a tender bicep like he had a million times before. But it’s different this time, this time (Y/n)’s arm moves. Flying up in the air as their mouth drops back open to say something else. He feels the tip of the metal dig into something, the sensation making his stomach churn. But instead of whatever it was they were going to say a whimper flies out instead. Arm jerking away from the sharpened edge of his hook, the golden metal coming back with a sickly scarlet sheen. They turn to him, eyes wide and jaw slack. Hook had done a lot of things, but he had never hurt them, not without them asking for it directly. What had he done? Oh, what had he done?

“I,” he starts but the words fall flat in his tongue. Eyes flickering over welled up tears and fear that was directed at him. “Love, I, fuck! I didn’t mean to.” They look down, blood dripping in a single thin stream down their arm. He cut them, actually sunk his hook into their flesh. Maybe he was right to be so scared of holding them with it, maybe they shouldn’t have told him they liked it. If they knew it would end up cutting them, maybe they wouldn’t have. “You didn’t mean to?” “No, God no. I was trying to grab you and I didn’t think you’d move. I just didn’t want you to leave me.” He’s pale as a ghost, staring wide eyed at the blood dripping down his lover’s arm. “God, Love, I didn’t mean to.” They take a deep breath and then, instead of tears or anger, they laugh. This musical relieved sort of sound that didn’t match anything he’d heard all day. Closer to their real laugh that he’d heard in so long, smiling and wiping tears with their good arm as their shoulders shake. Blood drips from their fingertips to the floor and they don’t seem to care. The splattered maroon dots on the hard wood would be a different time’s problem. The villain was too busy shaking with laughter to care about them.

“Darling?” “Give me,” they wheeze, trying to draw more air in, “Give me just a minute. I need to, god damn, I need to center my thoughts.” He nods, stepping towards them in this slow cautious way. As if he was a predator trying not to startle away his prey. Maybe he was, he had struck them like one. Even if it wasn’t intentional. Bloodshed was bloodshed, the intention didn’t matter. Oh god, the thought hits him like a ton of bricks to the chest. The intention didn’t matter. Their hand slides up to the cut, holding it until a purple shine seems to encapsulate both their hand and arm. When they pull away, they lift it up, letting him see that all that’s left is a thin scar. It was a short little thing, he’d barely snagged them. They were fine, the scar probably wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else. Good, that made the harsh pattering in his chest slow down as he looks at them. “Darling, I am so sorry.” They shrug, walking over to wrap their arms around his waist and draw him closer, “I’m all better.” “I am so incredibly sorry,” as if he’s a record stuck on a catch. Staring up at them with those big doe eyes filled with nothing but fear. Ego thrown to the side as he stares up at them. “I’m okay, baby. You didn’t mean it, you’re not one to lie to me. If you say that you didn’t mean it, then you didn’t mean it.”

He nods, leaning against their chest, “I’m sorry about the flirting too. I didn’t think you were bothered by it. I’ll uh,” he lets out a slow, shuttering breath, “I’ll talk to Uli. Tell her I can’t do it anymore.” “No it’s okay, James, it’s okay,” they stroke his hair softly as they speak, the boy’s body relaxing as they say his name. “It’s not okay, it bothers you. I already hurt you over it, that can’t happen again.” “And it won’t, I know you James, it won’t. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” He shrugs the motion only noticeable from the way he moves against them, “It’s okay.” “It’s not,” they pull away, softly grabbing his chin to make him look up at them, “It is most certainly not okay. I had my hands on you, I, god I had my hands on you. James, I am so sorry.” They drop him, stepping away from him like he’d just combust into flames. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Until you pissed me off it was kinda hot.” They shake their head, backing away from him until their back hits the door. “It was not hot, you could have been hurt. My hand was on your neck, what is wrong with me?” He follows them this time, hand reaching out for one of theirs, “Love, I am okay, it was kinda hot. Honestly, I think you should pin me against a wall with my throat in your hand more. Very villainous, very hot.” Despite his gentleness there’s a tone dripping off the pirate’s words that’s impossible to ignore. “Oh, of course, why wouldn’t you be into that?” And he’s laughing, reaching up for their jaw, “Now kiss me and let’s make up, huh, Darling?” They laugh, leaning down to his lips, they did like the sound of that.

[oasiswithmyg]

Aranahe

So’lek x Sarentu!Reader

Summary for this part: Etuwa, the tsahik of the Aranahe clan has invited you to her Hometree. You are determined to convince her father, the olo’eyktan, Ka’nat, to join the Resistance to fight against the RDA. But it seems to be a tough hill to climb. No worries, it seems you have gained a teacher for hunting.

Word count: 5K

A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long to post this part, I was sick for a week and half where I couldn't even get out of bed and go to work. Then when I finally got back to working, I got a big project to handle. I thought of posting this over the weekend. But I'll need to rest for a bit as my doctor told me, so I'll try my best to work on the next part as well!

Prev - Masterlist - Next

Although you were excited that Etuwa asked you to come by her Hometree, you felt the need to recharge yourself and head out with proper equipment and restock on your supplies. You decide the best thing to do is to head back to the base for now and possibly leave in a day or two for the Aranahe clan.

You also want to check up on the rest of the team and see how they're doing and reassure Priya, who has been contacting you through your radio, that you are indeed fine, albeit with a few bruises here and there, nothing much to worry about compared to the Resistance members that were hurt during the attack at the research field lab.

You can finally see the familiar sight of the base in the distance as you travel back, a sigh of relief escaping you, although the base is a bit cramped for Na’vis, it has become a safe haven to you throughout these times. However, you do not want to think about the other reason or Na’vi in this case of why you find the base calming. You sigh again, these thoughts about So’lek consuming you out of nowhere. You wonder if these thoughts about him are because he is a new member to your band of Na’vi, those who you have known your whole life or is this feeling and thoughts something more that you cannot describe.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear the airlock door open with a hiss and head inside the base after waiting for the second door to open as well. Your head turns to look around for the bubbly human you have come to adore. You notice that a certain Na’vi is missing. So’lek must be finishing up some loose ends and is probably the reason why he’s not back yet.

You finally hear her voice near the comms as she seems to be explaining something excitedly to Anqa again, who looks to be back from her mission out in the field labs. Her hands move animatedly as she explains and she must see you in the corner of her eyes because the next thing you hear from her is, “Y/N!”.

You grin as you head over to Priya, smiling at Anqa as well, who smiles back at you and claims she has some work and heads out. You turn to look at Priya who seems to have a suspicious wide grin, as if she’s being mischievous and hiding something. You look at her curiously before deciding to ignore it for now. “Hi Priya, I got rid of the bad guys just like I said I would”. You state proudly.

“Thank you so much Y/N! Honestly I was worried that we wouldn’t get there in time but you really did save them, Alma and So’lek told me you fought really hard and amazingly!” priya tells you as you bend down to speak to her at equal eye level. You smile, feeling happy that Alma and especially So’lek were praising you for the job you did. However, before you could get any word in, Priya gasps, “Wait! I wanted to ask, are you hurt anywhere ? Do you need me anything to help you ? I see you have bruises, Oh god I’m gonna tell the medic team, you should really rest up !”

You stare at her in surprise, not sure what to say about all that but you know that you have to stop her from worrying again. You place a hand on her shoulder smiling gently, explaining to her in a calm manner, “I’m alright Priya, I promise. I made sure to take a Dapophet plant after the fight and don’t worry I will rest up.” You giggle at the relief in her face and continue, your heart warm from a human caring about you. You were always treated like freaks at TAP, “Thank you for worrying about me Priya, you are a really good friend”.

Priya grins at that, however it seems to be that mischievous grin again and lets out a secret that was supposed to be kept a secret, but Priya decided that playing matchmaker might be fun, “So’lek sounded really worried about you know? He radioed me and basically asked me to check up on you which I was already gonna do because we’re friends and that’s what friends do, but that’s like the first time he’s asked something like that, like ever! I also tried to ask him what’s going on-”. You don’t seem to hear the last of her sentence because you feel like your heart wants to jump out of your chest with how much it’s beating, your cheeks heat up again for honestly the nth time, So’lek being the main cause of all this.

To hear that he was worried for you and asked about you to Priya, who says that this kind of thing is a first for him? Your thoughts about him were already jumbled and yet here he does again with him not even being present! So’lek’s words were repeating in your head and even Priya can notice for the first time that you’re not listening to her and she just giggles feeling like she completed an important mission. If she thinks this is going the way it’s going, then she hopes that she can be the first one to say to So’lek something like I told you so.

“I think I will rest Priya, I will head out to the Aranhe clan in a day or two. Irayo (Thanks) for checking on me”, You say to her before you head out of the base, Priya waves a bye at you in response with a knowing smile and goes back to her work. You decide to head to the campfire under one of the base tunnels, where you figure that it would be a good place to rest up and you were also hoping to avoid So’lek as well, just so that you can clear your head for a bit.

As you rush out of the base to head to the campfire underneath it, your mind is swirling with thoughts on what Priya said again, sighing, you decide to remove your gear and eat a Rich Meat Roast. After all the fighting you definitely feel famished and exhausted. Maybe tomorrow you can talk with Nor again and see how he feels. You also feel like you need to talk to Teylan, you haven’t spoken to him much once you reached the base, maybe you can ask him some questions on tech the humans use, he usually gets so excited about them even though you much prefer the NA’vi way. Though some of the human contraptions do have their benefits

Although Teylan is not your brother by blood, you worry so much over him, not only with his fascination with human tech but also over the radio that Mercer gave to him. It seems that no matter what, Mercer would have some control over that boy, your little brother. You wish you could purge his mind about any fears of Pandora, of being a Na’vi. Maybe one day you and So’lek can talk with him

There you go again thinking about him, you sigh and just lay down, forcing your mind to just empty and sleep. You try to remember your sister humming the song of your people and it seems sleep comes to you at that moment, with one thought left before you do.

‘You would have loved Pandora Aha’ri’

It’s been two days, you have finally rested and restocked all the materials you would need on your journey to the Aranahe clan. You feel nervous, you are so used to the Humans and So’lek at the resistance, that meeting Na’vi out in Pandora was something else. But it also lit a fire of excitement and determination in you, you hope to get them on your side in fighting the RDA for Pandora.

You gave farewell to your friends at the base and set out. It took you awhile to get there on foot, but you managed to get there without encountering much predators. As you were passing by you noticed, 3 Na’vi crouched and talking to each other, they looked at you in shock and started whispering furiously

“Is that…That looks like a Sarentu?”

“A Sarentu? The lost clan?”

“Look at the mark!”

“It must be something else. The Sarentu are long gone.”

“Ka’nat will want to know about this’

“Let them pass. Hometree’s scouts will see them soon enough.”

You hurry along, not sure what to feel from the encounter. It seems the shock of meeting a Sarentu might be the highlight of many of the Na’vi people. You can only hope that it is with Joy that your clan has been back to the people. You finally reach what seems like  the entrance to the Aranhe Hometree, there are three important looking Na’vi who look to be in a deep discussion. As you approach them closer, someone shouts from above.

“You! Stranger!” A Na’vi male comes flying down from an Ikra and lands while holding a bow aimed at you, he’s agitated as he continues talking, “I’ve not seen your kind before. What clan are you?”. One of the other female Na’vi who was having a discussion also aimed a bow at you, seeming to reply to the cautious Na’vi, “They look odd”. 

Well that’s just rude.

You decide to calm them by raising your hands in a surrender manner and explain the situation as the other two who were in the back walked closer to you, “Etuwa invited me here…to see her father.” The very important and regal Na’vi comes even closer to you, his features seeming similar to Etuwa. “What’s that on your face?” one of the Na’vi aiming an arrow at your face asked you. The Na'vi, who you think might be Etuwa’s father, makes the Na’vis point their bow at you to lower their guard with a shout, “It’s the mark of a Sarentu!”

He comes even closer, slowly circling your body, his gaze looking up and down at your form with slight disdain, “and yet, the Sarentu we once knew did not defy Eywa with scraps from the Sky people”. 

Ok you get his hate but this is just plain rude, It was honestly most of what you had during your time a tap and it helped you in battles. “It’s all I know.”. You wish that it was different, that you grew up with more of the Sarentu Na’vi in you, “They stole us when we were children.”

The Na’vi seem to agree with your statement with his own, “They have stolen many things. You were gone a long time. And you are young. Has your spirit been molded by the Sky people? Or do you remember the ways of your clan?” You are thankful that Nor isn’t there to hear this, because it made even you, feel doubtful of your connection to your people. Why did it hurt so much to hear such questions you did not know?

The other older female Na’vi, who has a yellow chest guard around her shoulders, looks like she’s had enough with the conversation, making hand motions of lowering and making a dismissing face to the guarded Na’vi, “Shoo, put that away”

She comes closer to you holding you by the shoulders, curiously gazing deep into your eyes, “Hmm. Sharp eyes. A Sarentu’s gaze. But yours is heavy” Her voice is gentle as she notices. She must see the pain in your eyes from the years stolen. She points to the Hometree as she holds you gently, “I am Nefika, let Hometree be a refuge from your burdens. We will put some color in your cheeks. Or clothes, at the very least.” she jokes in her last statement, making you feel lighter, you definitely like her a lot already. You can see through the corner of your eye that Ka’nat who you have determined, is still circling you. 

Nefika continues as she holds your hands gently, “You will pick up the threads of your people here. Oh,How I miss their stories.” As if struck by some nostalgia, she places her hand on Ka’nat, looking at him, remembering her past with the Sarentu, She looks back at you, “They loved our Silk Harvest. The sweet smell of dye, ma’ yawntu! (loved one)”

She goes quiet for a moment, thinking something over before deciding on it, she addresses the other Na’vi, “Ka’nat, let me take the Sarentu. The poor child knows nothing of our ways”.

Ka’nat looks you over again, as if deciding whether or not you are a threat to the Aranahe clan. He makes up his mind, “Go. we will speak more when you are settled.” 

Nefika, The kind older Na’vi who was speaking gently to you, beckons you over to the Hometree with a smile, while the Na’vi that were cautious, lower their guards with a smile and let you in.

“I really must speak more with Etuwa’s father. About the Resistance.”  you rush to get the words out, already feeling restless, like you should be doing something more about the situation at hand.

“Later, ma’yawntu. He is our olo’eyktan, our clan’s leader. Let us clean up a bit first. You would frighten the hide off an Angtsik looking like that.” She speaks and laughs in a jovial manner.  You like her nature a lot, her words making your body relax as you both walk through the Hometree. She continues, “Besides, I would not mention those Sky people if I were you. They are nothing but trouble, and Ka’nat does not like trouble.” You finally reach the main gathering area of the Hometree, making you look at it in awe, curiously looking over the intricate weaving done in the interior and the Na’vi gathered in the area.

You focus back to the conversation with Nefika as she addresses you while guiding  you through, “Let me show you off a bit instead, hmm? Will you allow me that? It has been an age since we had a Sarentu around here. Your people certainly made life more interesting”. Her voice then lowers in wonder as she recalls an old tale, “One time, they told us a tale about the rare mating rituals of the giant Zakru. Apparently, it can take days!” her tone joking as she laughs which makes you laugh as well, the tales of your people are not only informative but hilarious as well.

As she leads you through the area many Na’vi stand up in wonder looking at you, You smile shyly and nod at them in acknowledgement, not used to the wonder and awe in anyone’s gazes. You also look over at the beautiful colors that fill their home, maybe one day you can fill your own home with it too. Maybe with Na’vi at the Resistance base. You stopped and shocked your head, ridding of the thoughts making sure they do not fill your brain, before continuing on with Nefika.

“There will be more time to listen to their tales later. Our great tree has many stories, lived many lives, hosted your ancestors as our guests before you. And there was not one Sarentu who could not resist how our dyes dance.” she laughs, beckoning you over to a younger female Na’vi, “Come, see my weavers.”

There she introduces you to Koranu, who showcases you the latest silk, though Nefika informs you that it was not strongest as it once was due to the Kinglor’s flowers being closed, but that it was still stronger than Zakeru wool even with the Zeswa clan loving to brag. It seems Koranu will be the Na’vi you go to for any weavings that need to be done. 

Koranu felt relieved to have something to do other than the thing she was working on, it seemed that it was causing her a bit of stress. She was nice, you felt that she would provide the things you needed.

Nefika is delighted by the talks of the beauty of weaving, her tone appreciative, calling it a work of art. She leads you to a place that looks like the cooking area, she calls out to her friend Relun excitedly. They both seem to have a friendly banter with each other, with Nefika having her heart set on the ways of the silk and dye, while Relun says that the heart of Aranahe is taste. You giggle at their back and forth of teasing. You let Relun know that you’ll visit more to try his cooking, Relun seems happy about that.

Nefika takes you to meet one more Na’vi, who looks stern but her gaze kind, just hardened from the war perhaps, Kitangi. Nefika, talks about the grace that the Sarentu had possessed as they definitely knew how to dress. She wanted you to wear the weavings of the Aranahe, as they are strengthened with Sturmbeasts hide, that even if you are caught, she said jokingly that you would be hard to swallow.

Kitangi looks at you as if you were a baby that did not know anything, asking if you could even track and whatnot, not liking the answer you had given, asking if your ‘okay’ was enough for you. Nefika looks at Kitangi, bringing up a Na’vi’s name you do not know. “Eetu is on a hunt. I’m sure he will make a fine guide”.

Kitangi laughs at that, looking at you as if giving you a challenge, It makes you wanna prove yourself, “Indeed, if you can find him. There is a hunting camp near the water. Eetu will be there. But do not upset his hunt! He will not thank you for that”.

Nefika looks at you, her gaze gentle and teasing, shooing you on, “Go on, ma’yawntu. A respectful hunt will show Ka’nat you remember the ways of The People.”  You nod at her and head back to the gathering area of the Hometree to get your thoughts in order. There was so much you learned by just meeting so many Na’vi, you can only hope to learn much more.  Maybe this Eetu could be a great friend and teacher.

You decide to radio So’lek about the situation, feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything, knowing that his voice could soothe you, “So’lek, I made it to the Aranahe. You…weren’t wrong about them. But one of them took me in. Nefika. She thinks I can impress Ka’nat if I show him I can hunt properly”.

So’lek felt a bit annoyed that they were making you go on a hunt as the first thing, was it not enough that even though the Sarentu clan had been gone for so long, the fact that you have persevered through difficulties, especially being taken as a child by the RDA, to them ? He wished he was there to guide you. You could tell he was annoyed by the tone of his voice, “They sent you on a hunt? I should have shown you how myself”

“It’s okay. Nefika said one of their hunters might show me how. Eetu”. You replied quickly, not wanting him to feel bad. Although you would have loved to learn from So’lek itself, maybe making some friends might help you along the way on your journey.

Eetu. Eetu? The fearless, reckless and cocky hunter, Eetu, will be the one to teach you? So’lek was already annoyed, now hearing this tidbit of information just made him more frustrated. He really should have been the one to teach you how to hunt. A storm raged in his heart, a feeling he was not so quite used to ever. He felt jealous. Usually he would be able to calm down and think with a clear head, but it seems jealousy fueled his next words, “Hmm. Be careful Sarentu. You do not need to prove yourself to them. You are Sarentu, and Ka’nat should honor that. I have seen you as well Sarentu, you are nothing like those demons, you have a bleeding heart that cares and you are strong-willed. You do not need Eetu to teach you this. Do not ever think less of yourself. Come back to the HQ any time you like, all right? You are not alone. And there is much to do here”.

You think your heart might have stopped and suddenly start back out of nowhere hearing So’lek’s words. “Is this what he thought of me?”, you think to yourself, your body heating up at his tone, it sounded deep and tense. You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, but So’lek sounded jealous. He was jealous of this Eetu teaching you. You liked it.

“Irayo (Thanks) So’lek…I…I will remember that. I will come back to the HQ soon after the hunt, see you there”, you could not contain the shakiness in your voice, you wish you could see his face right now, what did he look like when he heard someone else teaching you. You cut the radio off and decide to find a corner within the Aranahe Hometree, where there were not too many Na’vi to cool down. Your body is too heated from the conversation. You sigh and wonder if this is a sign of some sort from Eywa. You pray to Eywa that maybe you could get through this and figure out what is going on inside your heart.

So’lek on the other end, felt heated for two reasons, his tail for the first time after so long started twitching fast, feeling agitated by what he heard. He had been out of the base, just scouting nearby the area.

One, how could Eetu be the one to teach you? He should have just told you to come back to the base and that he would have taught you himself, after all he has seen you fight. He has seen you.

Two, you voice at the end. It sounded shaky, but it felt like it was filled with something. Longing. He leans forward and rests his head against the tree and lets out a shuddering breath. Eywa was testing him. How could the great mother not, when the only thing he could ever think nowadays was of you, your curious mind and your loveable heart.

The only thing he can do for now, while waiting for you to come back to the base, is go over plans with Alma and finish off some of the RDA. He will decide what to do with you later.

You decide to leave around time the sun starts to set, wanting to grab some of the flora that are pristine during the night to collect as your resources. You have decided to block your mind of So’lek for now. Otherwise, he would be the only occupant of your mind and you had to focus for now.

As you travel through the woods, it seems many of the Aranahe are spread out, living in groups. You reach the hunting camp at last, looking around you can hear an Ikran roar, your feet decide to head towards the sound, using your Na’vi senses, you can sense an Ikran and her rider, with a successful hunt, nearby . You wonder if the rider could be Eetu. You wander over to them, your eyes gazing at the Ikran up close. Even though you saw Etuwa’s, you did not get enough time to study her Ikran during the fight with the RDA.

The Na’vi, who could be Eetu, twitches his ears as he hears you come closer and stands up to greet you. You could not see it, but Eetu definitely felt shocked to see a Sarentu, having heard his family talk about the clan and their distinctive mark. He decides to hear you out. Not expecting the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Your Ikran is beautiful”, You are in awe of the rider’s ikran, she truly was beautiful. Eetu felt happy and proud hearing such words, as his Ikan is a part of him, just as he is a part of her, he decides he can boast a bit, “My Zomey. For her, no wind is too strong, no challenge too great. We hunt with heart, in harmony”. He smirks as he bows a bit, as his voice turns flirty and cocky as he continues, “Are you here to admire us? I would not fault you for that”.

You blush at that, more so surprised at his boldness than feeling shy. Not so used to anyone being this forward with you, you just laugh nervously and decide to let the Na’vi know that you are searching for someone, “No, I…I-I’m looking for Eetu.”

Eetu’s eyes brighten even more if possible as he grins, “My name has reached other clans! Even lost ones” his gaze on you mark as he utters the last line. Eetu’s voice turns teasing, chuckling as he rolls his eyes and asks, “Let me guess, Nefika sent you to me? She wants me to teach. Boring, I say! To be safe at Hometree telling the little ones of hunts, of adventure?” his voice turns slightly serious as he continues, “They would not understand. What does danger mean to those who have only known safety? Zomey and I tear through the skies  together, our hearts pounding. Our senses on fire. That rush makes us strong. Fearless! The best hunters”.

You are moved by Eetu’s words, to have such a bond with someone must be the greatest thing on Pandora. You could only imagine what it must feel like. Though he sounds reckless, you could tell his heart was in the right place. He would definitely make a great friend. “Nefika did say you were hunting sturmbeast. Can I join?” You ask him, hoping he would say yes.

Eetu hums, “Is that what you are after? Are you a good hunter?”, his eyes roam over you, judging whether you are a good hunter or not. His own senses tell him what he needs to know. You had the strength and heart, just not the technique.

You falter, hearing Eetu ask. Feeling a bit ashamed at never learning how, you then remember something, “Do not ever think less of yourself”. So’lek’s words give you the strength you need. You straighten up and reply, “I was never taught how, but I’m willing to learn no matter what”.

Eetu looks at you in disbelief, what do you mean you were never taught how? “Never taught how? What have your people been doing all these years? Did you find a land without hunting? A place where creatures lay down to die willingly?”, his words may seem rude, but you could tell he was just teasing you, you roll your eyes and smile, you could already tell he will be a fun and troublesome friend. His demeanor turns serious and gentle as he points to what seems like some sort of practice area, “See there? Young hunters practice on targets first. Practice. Or it will be the sturmbeast hunting you!”

Eetu gives you a bow, however this bow seems different compared to the bow that So’lek had given you. He tells you that it is a Heavy bow, meant to aim for far targets and their weak spots. You position yourself as you lift the bow and aim at the target, your body tense as you focus only on the target. Eetu sees you tensing and comes close, using his hands to place your hands where they need to be, he was quite close while doing so. Once he finds your stance satisfactory, he steps back. You let the arrow fly, your aim hitting true.

Eetu hums and jokingly says, “You can hit a static target at least. Come”, He takes you back to where you were before. “Not bad. At least your thanks will have meaning” he praises you, sensing the potential within you.

You are confused. What did he mean by that? You gaze at him in question, “My thanks?”.

Eetu chuckles thinking you are joking, but then he sees that you really are confused, his voice cannot hide the disbelief as he questions you, “Are you serious? What have your people been doing? What kind of life have you lived?”

“A terrible one”, you reply in your thoughts, while you reply something else to him, “It’s…a long story”.

“If I wanted to hear a long story I would be at home”. Eetu looks at you, making sure that you listen to his advice carefully, “Each time you hunt, you must take a life. And so you must thank your sister or brother for their gifts as they return to the Great Mother.” He decides to demonstrate how to do it, his body bending down at his hunt, moving a hand over it, while saying the words, “I See you. Your spirit goes to Eywa and your body stays to become part of the people. Thank you for these gifts”

Eetu gets up and looks at you, his gaze and words trying to convey how important this was, “This way, you let her ascend to the ancestors. Remember that. And do not waste the gifts you receive”.

You try to imprint the words bestowed by Eetu in your mind. If you want to be a true Na’vi, this is the way. But you were confused what gifts meant. “The gifts. Right.” You try to say it convincingly. Eetu just shakes his head at you exasperatedly, “The hide, the meat. Ah! Nefika will show you. Go on. You do not need me to hold your hand.” Eetu shoos you away.

You grin and decide to head out, feeling like heading back to the base first to meet a certain Na’vi then testing out your skills to hunt. “Thanks Eetu, you are a good teacher I suppose, but time will tell” you joke a bit with him. Eetu laughs, “and you might make a good friend and student,  Eylanay (acquaintance)”

You nod at him as you turn to leave, your pace turning quick at the thought of heading back to the base. It wasn’t because of him, you were probably just tired. Well whatever it was you could deal with it when the time comes.

You hope to make lots of friends as time goes on.

∘ tsahik - Matriarch/Interpreter of Eywa.

∘ olo’eyktan - Clan leader.

∘ Eywa - Great mother, world spirit, Gaia.

∘ Ma - Generally means to refer to someone or address them.

∘ Yawntu - Loved one

∘ Eylanay - acquaintance

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it! If you want to be tagged for the series, please give a comment or send me an ask !

Taglist : @daydreamer246

[msschemmenti]

Hiya~

Your fics are amazing!!!

I was wondering if you'd write a Melissa x reader about the reader going out clubbing with Ava and getting super drunk. When they get home the reader has the bright idea to call Melissa at 3am to tell her how she feels about her. Melissa listens to the reader in shock but also amusement when she realizes reader is loaded. Melissa plays along asking reader a bunch of questions which they answer unabashedly. Eventually reader falls asleep and wakes up with no recollection of the night before. And is super surprised to find Melissa cooking breakfast for them. It leads to Melissa explaining everything the reader said to her last night. You can dictate the ending.

<3

A/N: oh my gosh hello! thank you so much for your kind words and your lovely request! i hope you enjoy it as much as my other fics! <3

Drunk in Love

pairing: melissa x reader

warning: alcohol

“Hot girls to the front!” Ava sang as she pulled Y/n passed the line waiting outside of the club. The younger woman gawked at her boss hesitantly as she felt all of the other people in line glare at them. This was only their first club of the night and she highly doubted Ava would want to stop at just the one but she’d promised her friend a night out and she was here to deliver. 

“Sorry.” Y/n called over her shoulder sheepishly as they siddled up to the bouncers standing guard in front of the door. It wasn’t long before the rope was being moved and Ava was shimmying her way into the club and toward the bar. The music was deafening but Y/n pushed it aside with the thought of a fruity drink clouding her judgement. 

“So what do you want to start with? I’m thinking shots.” Ava said enthusiastically once they found an opening at the bar. 

“That’s a no. I want something fruity and pretty.” Y/n said looking at the menu for pictures. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Ava rolled her eyes before placing an order for the both of them. As soon as their drinks were in hand Ava snagged a table and eyed the room for what Y/n could only assume would be her prey for the evening. Her eyes remained on the room but her voice broke through the music. “So when are you and red filling out the proper paperwork to date? I can only wait so long, as your boss.” 

“What are you talking about?” Y/n asked around the straw of her pink drink. 

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. I just need it in writing in case anything were to happen.” Ava shrugged. 

“I’m not playing dumb, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who is red? And when did we start dating?” Y/n asked seriously.

“Melissa, stupid.” Ava said wacking her shoulder in annoyance. 

“When did I start dating Melissa? Where was I when that happened?” Y/n asked delivering a wack back. 

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t confessed your undying love for her? I thought last time we went out you said you wouldn’t wait any longer? You couldn’t bare the back and forth flirting. Your heart yearned for hers and all that romantic shit you say when you get a couple drinks in you.” 

Y/n gapped at the taller woman, “I did not say that. There’s no way I said that, especially to you.” 

“What is that supposed to me? I’m literally your best friend.” Ava said in offense. 

“Since when?” Y/n said with a grin knowing she’d successfully steered Ava away from the original topic of conversation. She knew Ava was probably right, but she hadn’t had enough to drink to discuss her crush on Melissa. Sober Y/n was far too scared to even think about how deep those feelings actually went but apparently drunk Y/n couldn’t shut up about the older woman. Before Ava could get to carried away Y/n moved to distract by suggesting they get more drinks. They were ubering home and in the comfort of her own home there was no reason she couldn’t allow herself to indulge in all that is Melissa Schemmenti. “Another one!”

-

“Good night bestie!” Y/n sang from her front door as she watched Ava ease her way down the stairs. 

“I knew we were best friends. I’ll see you Monday whore.” Ava grinned, tripping slightly over nothing. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Y/n saluted before disappearing behind her closed door and floating over to her couch. She splayed herself across the couch with her hand over her eyes. The world was still spinning but only one thing seemed to be at the center of her mind. Melissa Schemmenti. No matter what she did, she couldn’t think of anything else. 

“I wonder what she’s doing right now.” Y/n smiled behind her hands. She thought about how earlier in the day Melissa had wrapped her arm around her pulling her close to whisper some stupid joke in her ear as they walked out of the school with Barbara. She could practically feel the heat that fell over her ear at the woman’s voice. She could almost make out what she said, but as soon as she reached for the memory it seemed to slip away. With a pout, Y/n sat up reaching for her phone. She had to know what Melissa said, or it would bother her for the rest of the night. And she just wanted to hear her voice. 

“Hey Siri! Call Melissa Schemmenti red heart,” Y/n commanded eyeing the screen. The automated voice droned a confirmation that the call was being placed and then the phone was ringing. She leaned back into the couch with her eyes closed and waited patiently for the older woman to pick up the phone. 

“Y/n?” A husky voice crackled over the phone. 

“Melissa,” Y/n sighed dreamily. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” Melissa asked focusing on the call as she clawed her way out of sleep. 

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t it be?” Y/n asked. 

“Hon, it’s 3:30 in the morning.” 

“Oh,” Y/n paused. “What are you doing?” 

Melissa pulled the phone from her ear with a laugh, “I’m in bed, what are you doing?”

“I just got home. Ava and I went clubbing. Crazy time. I wish you were there.” Y/n smiled as she spoke. 

“Oh really?” Melissa asked understanding the younger woman was definitely drunk.

“Well yeah, you’re my favorite person like ever. I wish we could be together all the time.” 

“Awe you don’t mean that hon.” Melissa said feeling the heat rise in her body.

“I do, I really really really do. You’re the best. I think I love you.” Y/n said dreamily before moving to speak again. “What are you doing tomorrow? Do you wanna hang out?” 

Melissa sat quietly on the phone as she tried to think through Y/n’s words, “Uh sure hon. How much did you have to drink tonight?” Melissa asked trying to rationalize the younger woman’s words.

“Only like this much.” Y/n said bringing her fingers up to her eyes to measure how much she’d had. “What do you want to do tomorrow? Can we have breakfast? I miss you. And I bet you’re so pretty first thing in the morning.” 

“Well aren’t you a sweet drunk. What else do you think about me?” Melissa asked, now fully awake and leaning against her headboard to listen intently. 

“I think you’re so funny. Oh and so smart. You have so many guys, and I always wonder how are there that many guys in the world but I don’t wanna sound stupid so I just wonder to myself. And then I think ‘Wow, Melissa has that many guys ready to do what she says’ and then I’m even more shocked. Oh I also think you’re so beautiful. So so so beautiful. I love it when you wear that pink cause that’s my favorite color and in my mind I think you did it for me. Or when you wear green? So sexy. I wish I was with you. Like all the time.” Y/n rambled down the line around hiccups and yawns shocking Melissa into silence. Not hearing anything else and being hit with a rather large yawn, Y/n spoke again. “I think I’m gonna go to bed now.”

“Alright hon, last question and then you can go to sleep. What do you want for your birthday?” Melissa knew it was random but she’s been asking for weeks and Y/n kept claiming she wanted nothing.

“A hug. Goodnight.” And then all Melissa heard was heavy breathing. Shaking her head she hung up turning over in her bed. What an informative call.

-

Y/n woke slowly, feeling the dryness in her mouth first. The headache behind her eyes came next and she groaned unhappily as the pain in her back pulled her into consciousness. “I hate Ava.” She mumbled as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. 

“Good Morning Sleeping Beauty.” Melissa called from the doorway leading into the kitchen causing Y/n to jump.

“Mel? What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, eyes startling open as she looked over the back of the couch toward the older woman. 

“Making pancakes.” Melissa responded simply. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t remember asking me to come over between the alcohol and the love confessions. So I just came anyway.” Melissa smirked leaning into her hip.

“Love whats?” Y/n scrambled to her feet feeling a wave of nausea hit. 

“Love confessions. You’re a sweet drunk, I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Oh my god.” Y/n groaned as her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. 

“Tell ya what, go get showered and comfy and we can talk about it over breakfast. I’d like to hear all those compliments while you’re sober.” Melissa winked before heading back into the kitchen with a far more noticeable sway rocking her hips. Y/n stared after her, dazed and embarrassed but it only lasted shortly before hope bloomed in her chest. 

[thomine]

limbo

cyno x reader, 900 words

cyno is not accepting an audience... but when you're at the door...

general audiences, dialogue heavy, hurt/comfort, physical wounds, death of a minor character, reposted, not proofread.

notes: work tag

“hey, cyno?”

“…”

“are you… there?”

there’s shuffling of feet.

“are you alone?”

“yeah.”

“…what’s the matter?”

“well… i heard from the matra the case was complex and dangerous, so i’m glad to hear you’ve returned.” you swallow the word ‘safely’.

“yeah,” a pause. “it was one of those that required more time, more risks.”

“you would only be gone for at most a week.” you force a laugh. “it was a long month of silence.”

“that’s expected. a matra’s work is no fun and games.”

“and… uh, i also heard that… you ended up—”

“that’s enough.”

“…”

he clears his throat. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to—” a deep breathe followed by a shaky exhale. “maybe now isn’t a good time.”

“let me say it, please.”

“…your curiosity is dangerous.”

“it is not curiosity. it is concern. you got hurt, cyno, and you expect me not to care?”

“…”

“when will be a good time?”

“…”

“the doctors told me you’ll need your rest. i guess maybe i am pushing it.”

“wait—”

“…yes?”

“what else did you hear? from the matra.”

“they’re innocent. i couldn’t get answers from you so i approached them.”

“unless i see a reason, you won’t have to worry about me punishing them.”

“they told me things with good intentions. they’re also worried for you.”

“…i’m aware. tell me still.”

you sigh, a hand clutching the other. “your coworker… no, your friend did this to you, didn’t he?”

a dreadful silence. then, a pained hiss.

“cyno? do you need the doctor?”

a breath is taken in through gritted teeth.

“no—just, a small mistake on my part.”

“don’t touch the wound.”

“sorry. instincts. no need to worry about me. rather, have you been drinking water? you always forget.”

“i get plenty of reminders from others,” you laugh, almost authentic.

“good.”

another silence, but gentle.

“it’s not the same though.”

“what do you mean?”

“it was different when you did it. seeing your gruff and serious face saying such kind words… i always found it funny.”

“is it really?”

“for the record, i missed your jokes. tighnari was all like ‘good riddance at least we have peace and quiet’ and i proceeded to carry your legacy.”

“want to hear another one?”

“you spoil me.”

“what’s left of a sumpterbeast when the beast dies?”

“…meat? horns? materials!”

“no. you leave it stumped.”

“…” but you laugh anyways. with your whole body. lungs filled with cheer.

“…why did you come alone?”

“collei and tighnari couldn’t come today, so i’m here to pass the medicine they wanted to give you.”

“is that all?”

“i bought more gifts! deyha gave some bandages. it’s also apparently really tight. that helps with blood flow, but i’m not sure if you can wear it just yet—”

“…”

“—and alhaitham told me to give you this—oh, they’re chocolates—not sure if they still taste good… it has melted a fair bit. then—”

“…”

“—there’s candace who sent her blessings, and nilou who gave you a trinket! it was used in a folktale to bring good luck. she says when you’re ready, she’ll host a celebration for your recovery. it’ll be within us, and maybe even the dendro archon will come.”

“…”

“why?”

“…why?”

“why didn’t you want to see them? i know it hurts to have been betrayed. you… surely don’t think we will, do you?”

“it’s not that. betrayal means nothing if all acts are weighed and brought to justice.”

“is it really nothing? the matra told me you returned with his dead body. you wanted a proper burial. you could have died too, trying to bring his body back.”

“what else did they tell?”

you inhale. “other than your wound, nothing else. cyno, i hope you’re not going to push us away.”

“it’s not that.” there’s a low growl. “… i just need some time for myself.”

“i understand. i’ll leave the gifts out here then. is there anything else you want to say before i leave…?”

“…my friend was mind controlled.”

“i see.”

“he didn’t deserve the death i gave him.” the atmosphere is tense. it’s hard to breathe. “when i’ve rested enough, i have this case to solve.”

“…rest…” you sigh and shake your head. “you’re not letting yourself mourn.” you place a hand on the door. “i’m sorry.”

“there’s nothing you have to be sorry about.”

“it wasn’t your fault either.”

“maybe i was too haste to pass judgement, but what’s done is done. his blood is on my hands.”

“cyno,” you breath out, like a drowning person letting out the last bubble. “you are only human.”

“…”

“promise me when you leave for your next case, to investigate on those who unfairly used your friend, that… you’ll come back safely.”

“i cannot promise that, but i will do my best.”

“that is enough.”

“…do you still want to see me?”

“that’s why i’m here, right?”

“huh, thought you were just acting as a delivery guy.” a dry chuckle.

“well, i’m that too.” you weakly laugh, lying your head against the door. “it must be hard dealing with it alone, but we’re all here for you, through the gifts we bring and the prayers we offer… i’m here too.” you press a hand on your heart.

there is a click.

“i’m coming in,” you say as you slip yourself through the door left ajar, careful of the items on the floor. it closes before you can catch a glimpse of him, but the familiar warmth that wraps you is enough to quell your uncertainties.

author's note: an old piece! from an old blog! hello! i wrote some author's commentary so i guess that'll be up next. i have not looked through this nor the commentary. this is raw. i wrote this to practice dialogue. might actually do more!

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 8)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Y/N joins Harry for his last few shows in California and they take their relationship to the next level.

Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

Word count: 3.8K

CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle

————————————————————————

Waking up on New Year’s Day, wrapped in your alpha’s arms, is truly the best way to start the year. Your scents mix beautifully together, and his bedroom feels like a sanctuary. The two of you spend the entire day at his house. It’s comfortable, domestic even the way you fit seamlessly into his home. You cook dinner together and once again end the night making love.

Even though you wake up the following morning the same way as the previous, there’s sadness in the air. It’s the day you leave to fly back home. Since Harry has a few meetings and other plans, he won’t be joining you in the states for a couple of weeks. It’s a shorter separation than the last one, but you still don’t want to say goodbye.

The alarm on your phone rings, and you roll over to face Harry. He presses a kiss to your temple, then nose, before finally reaching your lips. Just as the two of you are getting into a rhythm, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, your second alarm goes off. You know that if you don’t get up and get ready now you’re going to miss your flight. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in your opinion. But there’s an in-person “start of the year” meeting that you need to be at in a couple of days. So you pull yourself away with the last bit of personal restraint you possess.

Harry helps pack the last of your things while you shower, and he has breakfast waiting for you. Both plates are set in front of the chair that Harry’s sitting on, and you’re confused for a moment before you see the pleading look on his face. Understanding his silent request, you move to sit on his lap. You feel him relax beneath you as you grant him this last moment of intimacy.

After breakfast is finished you turn in Harry’s lap, straddling him now, so you can start to say goodbye. Even though he’s driving you to the airport, you both know you can’t share a proper moment there in case he’s spotted by fans.

The first thing he does is douse you in his scent. You melt the second his nose runs against your neck. He’s thorough, kissing and licking against the gland there, ensuring that you’ll smell of your alpha for your journey home. With one final, gentle, nip of his teeth on your skin, he pulls away satisfied.

“I don’t want to go,” you say with a pout.

“I know baby. I don’t want you to leave either,” he replies.

“Just two weeks, right?”

“Just two weeks. And then I’ll come get you and we’ll be in California together,” he confirms.

“Okay. I can do two weeks.” You take a deep breath before slotting your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s full of love.

You glance at the clock and sigh.

“Time to go,” Harry says sadly. The two of you get up and head to the car. Harry insists on carrying your bags, and then keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire drive. It’s these little ways that he shows he cares about you that you’ve never experienced before. He’s always making you fall for him even more.

When you arrive, he quickly shimmies his sweatshirt off and hands it to you. It’s doused in his scent, and it’s one of the coziest things you’ve ever worn.

“Thank you, alpha,” you say.

“Of course, omega. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” This comes out barely a whisper, as you fight to hold back tears. Harry releases calming pheromones and you take a deep breath to recenter yourself.

After a final goodbye you enter the airport, going through check-in and security. It’s an uneventful day of travel, and this time you manage to take a nap on the plane. One short uber ride later and you’re finally home.

You send Harry a quick text to let him know you’re home safe and that you’ll call him after a shower. You need to wash away the grime of traveling, but unfortunately this also washes away Harry’s scent.

There are still a couple bags of scented items that he’d given you, so you decide to spruce up your nest again. After your shower you call Harry and talk on the phone while you build it. The nest brings you the peace your omega requires to fall asleep without your alpha for the first time in weeks.

The time before Harry arrives passes slowly, as you knew it would. The touch deprivation doesn’t get too out of hand like it previously did. You have a telehealth call with your doctor during this time, just to check in with her. She explains that the symptoms being better likely means your omega knows it has an alpha who will always return to take care of it. It’s weirdly satisfying to know that there’s medical proof of how healthy your relationship with Harry is.

And then, finally, Harry is here. He stays with you for a few days, attending meetings in New York or taking phone calls about upcoming projects while you do your work. Each night is spent together watching movies, playing games, or just talking. Your friends come over and it’s perfect how seamlessly Harry fits in with the group.

The two of you fly together to California where Harry will be doing a number of shows in Los Angeles and Palm Springs. You stay at his LA home and cannot believe how beautiful it is. You go with him to rehearsals, where you enjoy watching the behind-the-scenes process as well as hanging out with the band and crew. You attend the shows, always in a VIP section, away from any danger, in order to calm Harry’s alpha.

You wake up early the morning of Harry’s birthday and sneak down to the kitchen of the beautiful Airbnb he’d rented in Palm Springs. Your goal is to make him a surprise breakfast in bed. He’s just starting to stir when you walk back in carrying a tray of food.

“Happy birthday,” you say as you place the tray on the dresser before leaning in to give Harry a kiss.

“Thank you my love,” he replies.

“Brought you breakfast, all your favorites.”

“It smells delicious!”

With that the two of you sit side-by-side in bed, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and occasionally feeding bites to each other. When you’re both full you move the tray to the side again and grab a couple presents you’d hidden in the closet.

“What’s all this? You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry says.

“It’s nothing special, just a few things that made me think of you.”

He unwraps the gifts, a huge smile on his face as each is revealed. As you said, none of it is expensive or fancy really, but Harry can tell the thought you put into each gift.

“Thank you baby, it’s all perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply. “There’s actually one more thing,” you add shyly, shifting as you kneel in bed next to him.

He picks up on your nervous pheromones and takes one of your hands in his to soothe you, unsure of where this is going.

“So I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the last couple of weeks and uhm, I’m ready. To be knotted.”

Harry stares at you for a long moment, and part of you fears that he’ll reject you, but that fear quickly vanishes when he says, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve never felt so safe and cared for by someone. I’ve never wanted to literally be tied to another person. Not until I met you, alpha.”

He takes a deep, steadying breath, the air filling with pheromones indicating just how much he wants that.

“My omega, I will always make sure you’re safe, no matter what’s happening. If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop, promise?”

“I promise,” you reply as you lean in to press a deep kiss to his lips.

The kiss starts slow, hesitant, and you can tell Harry is afraid to push too far. So you take control, running your tongue along the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth. When your tongues meet, a shift occurs, and Harry once again becomes the dominant alpha you’re used to in bed.

His hands come up, one around your waist and the other cupping the back of your neck to keep you close to him. After a few minutes of deep, passionate kisses he breaks away to kiss and nip along your throat. When he gets to the scent gland just under your ear he begins to scent you thoroughly, licking and leaving small bites. You’re boneless in his arms and you know your underwear is ruined with the slick pooling there.

It's a rush to get out of your clothes, until every article from both of your bodies is scattered on the floor. Your omega instincts kick in and you follow them, moving until you’re on your belly and then lifting your backside into the perfect presenting position.

“Not like that, baby,” Harry says as he gently manhandles you so you’re on your back looking up at him. “I want to see you this time. Plus, it will be more comfortable when we’re tied together.”

The reminder that you'll be literally stuck together has a wave of nerves and a wave of desire running through you simultaneously. It’s a scary thought, being stuck to someone in such an intimate way, but you know it will feel good and only bring you and Harry closer emotionally.

He presses kisses down your body until he reaches your core, literally growling at how wet you are, at how sweet your slick smells. After the first couple tentative licks he begins to eat you out in earnest. This is something you’ve come to expect in the weeks since your relationship with Harry became physical. He rarely goes straight to penetrative sex, preferring to bring you to at least one orgasm first. Even though today is his birthday, it’s no different than usual. Sometimes you think it’s more for him than for you if his enthusiasm is anything to go by.

It doesn’t take long before he brings you to climax, your breathy moans and cries of his name mixing with obscene sounds of Harry eating you out. Once you’ve fully ridden every wave of pleasure he begins to move back up your body. You lazily make out before Harry pulls away to reach into the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a condom and you watch with lust-hazed eyes as he rolls it along his length.

He's hovering over you again, silently checking one last time if you’re ready. You smile and nod, leaning up for a gentle, chaste kiss. It’s as he presses his lip to yours again that you feel his tip at your entrance. Your jaw goes slack as he slowly pushes fully inside of you until his hips are flush to yours. What happens next is a beautiful, passionate blur, as he brings you to climax once more. He scents you some more as you catch your breath, and then you cry out in pleasure as he begins thrusting again.

It's as you reach your third orgasm of the morning that you feel his hips starts to stutter. You wrap your legs around him, giving a silent signal that you still want this, still desire him to knot you.

When his knot finally locks in place you gasp, the feeling unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. There’s definitely a twinge of pain, your body not ever having something so large inside. But at the same time there’s a warmth, both from the cum filling the condom and from the knot itself. Harry’s cries of pleasure ring in your ears and he’s kissing you before moving to your scent gland once again, frantically scenting you, ensuring that everyone will know you’re claimed by an alpha.

Once his inner alpha is satisfied that his omega smells only of him he calms down.

“Are you alright my love?” he asks.

“I’m good,” you reply. “Feels so good.”

“I could say the same. Being locked in you feels like heaven. Jesus, you darling, are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

You blush at the compliments, your omega preening at all the attention from your alpha. He continues to scent and kiss you for the twenty minutes you’re tied together. It only takes a couple minutes for you to get used to the feeling, and then there’s an emptiness when he finally pulls out.

“C’mon baby, let’s get cleaned up,” he says before carrying you into the bathroom, needing to give into his instincts to care for you in any way he can.

Harry continues to dote on you the rest of the morning and scents you again before you both leave to get lunch with his friends prior to soundcheck and the show. Sarah gives a knowing look when she sees the two of you, but you can’t even feel embarrassed that the other alpha picked up on how you spent the morning. Especially not when she gives you a hug and says, “I’m so happy for the two of you.”

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly and suddenly Madi Diaz is on stage opening the show. You’re in Harry’s dressing room as he finishes getting ready, and though you’re dressed in a light skirt and tank top, you still feel a bit warm. You make a joke about how hot they keep a venue that’s literally in the desert, and Harry just gives you a questioning look.

Before he can ask what you mean, he’s being called away to grab his mic pack and head to the stage. You give him one more kiss for luck before going to find your spot in the VIP section.

Harry enters the stage a little while later, holding onto his birthday balloon. Even though you’d just been with him as he got dressed, you’re practically salivating at how good he looks. Even though you try to prevent it, there’s definitely slick leaking into your panties, so much so that you take a quick bathroom break to clean up. You’re also sweating, leading you to wonder how everyone else around you looks completely cool when it’s practically a thousand degrees.

When the show ends you all meet backstage for a drink to celebrate Harry’s birthday and the end of the US leg of tour. You’re tucked into Harry’s side, fighting off the desire to pull him away from the crowd so he can knot you again. You shake your head slightly, shocked at how getting knotted one time has made you insatiable.

You look up and notice Sarah watching you closely before she leans over and whispers something to Mitch. He then looks at you as well, as though studying you and you begin to feel somewhat self-conscious causing you to tuck further into Harry’s embrace.

After everyone is done wishing Harry a happy birthday Sarah makes her way over, effectively pulling you both off to the side.

“Y/N, are you feeling alright?” she asks.

“Yea, I’m fine, why?” you reply, lying slightly. Because the truth is you feel a bit off, but you have no clue what is going on. You begin to feel cornered by the alpha, and even though you’re normally good friends with her, you don’t want her around you right now. The only alpha you want is yours. And you want him alone.

“Are you sure? Because you seem like you could be slipping into heat. I know it’s none of my business but I’m just worried.”

Just like that all the air escapes from your lungs. The room starts spinning and anxiety builds in your chest. Because you realize she’s right. Your doctor said your mini-heat would hit in February, and here it is, February first. Being knotted that morning probably helped trigger it as well.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

Harry is still by your side, similarly shocked that he didn’t pick up on the signs either.

The heat haze starts to settle over you, as though you noticing what it is has the process speeding up. “Harry, I need to go,” you say, fear lacing your voice. You know that being an omega in heat is extremely vulnerable and here you are in a venue surrounded by people.

“I know,” he says, his voice strained. You’re not sure if he’s more affected by desire or a need to protect his omega, but you can tell he’s under immense stress at the moment. He calls his assistant Jada over to make arrangements to get you home safely.

You’re vaguely aware of conversation happening around you, but the fuzziness in your brain makes it hard to understand what they’re saying. You turn your head, blindly seeking out Harry’s delicious scent. It's an unconscious decision to start scenting him right there in front of his friends, and you don’t realize you’re nipping at his scent gland until he’s gently pulling you away.

You start to whine, trying to move closer again, fighting against him until he says “Omega, listen to me.” Immediately your eyes meet his, and you’re snapped out of the daze. Part of you knows that he just used his alpha voice and while normally you’d hate that, your omega preens. This isn’t just any alpha, this is your alpha, and you know he’s using his voice to help you, to protect you.

Once your eyes are locked into his and he knows he has your attention, Harry says, “Jada and Elin are going to take you back to the house. There will be a couple beta security guards there as well. They’ll all take care of you and make sure you’re safe.”

You nod, showing that you understand. But then tears well in your eyes and Harry gently asks, “Omega, what’s wrong?”

You don’t answer, you don’t want to say it, because it feels silly and childish. But you can’t keep anything from him, not when he looks so worried and you whisper, “I’m scared, Alpha.”

“Oh my darling,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug once again. “I know it’s scary. It’s been a long time since you’ve experienced this huh?”

“Yea. I just, I don’t really remember the couple of heats I had, I just remember feeling untethered. I didn’t like it. I felt so alone.”

“Baby, I promise you won’t be alone. The others will be there to check on you, and our room smells of our scents which will soothe you. And I’ll be there the second it’s done. It’ll only be a day, maybe two tops. Over before you know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, and he leans down to place one quick kiss to your lips. He doesn’t dare do more, not wanting to set off a wave of your heat while you’re still in a public space. Plus, he’s holding on to the last bit of control he has, finding it harder to contain his alpha as your scent continues to grow sweeter.

With one final hug you say goodbye and are led to the car that’s waiting. You’re in the backseat with the window down, the cold air keeping you from feeling like you’re burning from the inside out. Back at the house Elin leads you to the master bedroom, where you’ll end up spending the next 27 hours.

The mini heat isn’t awful. It’s painful at moments, your desperation for a knot overwhelming you. Shortly after arriving at the house Jada brings a box of supplies. In your aroused state you don’t question where they got a new knotting dildo at midnight, but you’re grateful for whoever found it as it helps get you through.

Elin and Jada check in on you at regular intervals, making sure you’ve eaten and seeing if there’s anything you need. You assure them that you’re fine every time, but the truth is you still feel alone. It’s a loneliness that’s deep in your bones, your heat making you desperate for the touch of another person, and not even in a sexual way. You just want to be held.

When Elin knocks on the door at 3 am, 27 hours after getting to the house, she finds you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. That alone alerts her to the fact that the heat is over. She texts Harry immediately, and 15 minutes later he’s running into the room.

The second he walks in, you break, tears streaming as sobs wrack your body. He wraps you in his arms and begins to scent you, not needing to ask what is wrong. He understands. You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. Your inner omega has been on edge without its alpha there. You are simply overwhelmed by the experience.

Harry sits with you, holding you tight and murmuring sweet things until your sobs taper off into quiet sniffles.

“You okay?” He eventually asks.

“I’m okay,” you reply truthfully. It had been cathartic to cry, to let it all out.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just hold me please,” you answer.

“Of course baby. Always.”

Harry keeps his promise, continuing to hold you close as you get some rest. In the morning, he gets breakfast delivered to the house so he only has to leave bed for a moment to grab it from the front porch. He then draws a bath and helps gently wash every inch of your skin.

Since you have the house rented for a couple more days you decide to build a fresh nest. You kick Harry out, needing to do this by yourself. You do, however, run out to the living room more than once so he can scent certain items. Once it’s complete you call for Harry and he joins you immediately.

“This is beautiful,” he says as soon as he sees the nest you’ve constructed.

“Really?” You ask, always a little unsure of yourself when you try to follow your omega instincts.

“Really. It’s perfect,” he reassures you.

“Lay with me?” You ask.

“I’d love nothing more,” he replies and follows you into the center of the bed nest. You curl yourself into his side and relax. It’s no surprise when you begin to purr, Harry rumbling in contentment next to you.

In that moment something becomes clear to you. This is your alpha. Your future is with him. You won’t bring it up just yet, but you know you want him to join you for your next heat, and whatever may come after.

————————————————————————

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Next chapter should be the end of the main story but I’m sure I’ll do some extras after that!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary

[literallys-illiteracy]

Follow Up Post for explanations:

Nothing There

While Nothing There fits several sinners (as do most abnormalities), I personally believe that Meursault is the strongest contender for a Nothing There wielder due to his presence as an “Outsider” or “Stranger” to the rest of the company, and to humanity in large (seen in the source book).

Though Meursault does not do things outwardly incorrectly or in methods foreign humanity at large, having learned the basic processes and standing by them, he is still seen as a person abstracted from normal humanity, despite learning and acting in base like the people that surround him.

For the other possible Nothing There wielders, I think Don Quixote and Gregor both fit equally well for different reasons.

As others have pointed out, visually speaking Gregor is the most fitting for this due to his prosthetic arm, alongside his thematic connections to alienation and change. Noting this is interesting because I personally don’t see Gregor as the greatest fit for this EGO based on my reading of his character and the abnormality, as i feel their stories are somewhat separated – Gregor’s arm acts both as a visual symbol of his past traumas during the war, as well as a stand in for physical damages and changes that one may possess, leading to his discrimination; While this concept of needing to hide something to appear as a human is a fitting description of Nothing There (as is suggested by its EGO name of Mimicry), I believe that the two diverge from this point, while Gregor presents his humanity above else, hiding his arm behind his back often, his own humanity is in fact, his downfall in this case.

Nothing There acts as an imitation of humanity, wishing desperately to become it. While Gregor is visually abstracted from humanity due to his arm, he is unmistakingly human, without wearing a mask or personality to appear as one; Meursault, conversely, appears the part of a normal person, but is recognisably “Hollow” or a “stranger” when spoken to, which correlates with Nothing There’s motif of mimicked speech patterns in the prior two games.

Don Quixote ‘dons’ the other end of this abnormality to Gregor, while not appearing as anything abnormal, she is recognisably different from her peers. Her learning of fixers and attempted imitation of them, or her perceived notions about them, also leads to the same conclusion.

I can imagine Nothing There Don Quixote going “GREETINGS? OUT UPON THEE?. THOU HAST RECEIVED- -A VOICE MAIL”

(purposely kept short to avoid Canto spoilers)

Why did Faust get the following? And other possibilities for said abnormalities:

Dreaming Current:

I am writing this with a migraine. Akin to this, the previous post was made with a migraine as well, such that I do not fully remember what caused me to put certain things in a sinner’s category, but this one I have a fairly good guess at my line of thinking.

This placement was made from my connection between the Homunculus from Faust and this abnormality, largely due to their shared link of the ocean.

It is a somewhat thrown around theory that Faust, the sinner, is either Gretchen or the Homunculus from the book, due to her self referential speaking pattern, which we later learned was due to her connection to the greater “Faust”.

The Homunculus, within Faust, is a lab grown creature representative of the heights that science may achieve. Being a creature that is confined within its container, even during its travels, it seeks to give its unnatural form back to nature, through the form of the ocean.

The Homunculus shares the same wish of the Current to “Live a proper life”, with specific regards to the ocean, after all, a shark on land is decidedly unnatural.

The alternative options for this abnormality are likely Don Quixote and Hong Lou, for rather obvious correlations each, as HourlyDonQui pointed out.

Queen Bee:

See Naked Nest Below for reasoning, I'm not typing the hive mind/collective thing twice.

The latter reasoning is due to her being the primary organisation behind Limbus Company from what we know, having recruited all the sinners and Vergillius.

You may notice that almost every minion abnormality, or almost every abnormality that can possess multiple employees, is in the Faust section. 

Snow Queen:

“[Kai] became curious of the world beyond his knowledge. He felt as though everything he knew amounted to so little”. This line, alongside the fact that Kai lost the feelings of Joy, Cold, and worry that he held upon receiving the Ice Queen’s kiss, is the primary reason why I have chosen Faust for this Abnormality.

There are exactly two other angles to view this abnormality from however, from the Snow Queen herself, and from Gerda’s (the saviour and protagonist of the inspiration story).

As there are many ways of interpreting this, I will first list out the sinners who fit criteria to receive this EGO in some way shape or form due to these three pathways.

Kai:

Yi Sang (a shard of the mirror lodged in his heart causing him to seek knowledge beyond what he knows, and resulting in a later realisation of himself after losing his emotions; As Faust put it “he was not always like this”, alongside the connection to mirrors, and the fact that it was in part the reflection of his Wings that caused this spiral)

Don Quixote (see Below in Gerta)

Fau (see above in Frost Queen)

Gerta:

Don Quixote (the power of love and affection overcoming a cold unfeeling evil in the blizzard) 

Heathcliff (Gerta’s long, arduous quest to find her friend who had been lost in the blizzard, mirroring Heathcliff’s search for Catherine.)

Queen:

Meursault (The Queen within the story is cold and unfeeling, credence to her icy nature, and freezes Kai’s heart so he forgets his family and friends. This mirrors Meursault due to his source book’s opening line of “Mother died today, or maybe it was yesterday”, his lack of care towards his relations and towards life in whole)

Heathcliff (Mirroring his book counterpart, specifically the extreme weather of the Heights, alongside his seeming lack of care towards others following the events of his past)

Naked Nest:

Ill be honest, this abnormality gives me a headache to discuss, similar to Mountain of Smiling Bodies, because it's so extremely direct and to the point with what it is/does that it hardly represents any theme in whole, so this is the best i can do (Basically its on the other end of the spectrum from whitenight, who i avoid talking about because of how many different angles of thought there are).

I believe that I put this abnormality here due to both its connection to a “hive”, which relates to Faust’s hivemind/communion with herselves, alongside the fact that this hivemind seems to supercede the personality of said person, shown similarly with Girlfailure faust in MOTWE event, during which she cannot access this network, and is thus not part of this nest.

There is also the concept of Faust’s knowledge being that of the greater “faust” or “Gesselschaft”, and the relation that by the time the parasite is noticeable, it has already assumed control of, and eaten a large part of, the host’s brain, leading to their inability to function.

If this abnormality were to be given to another sinner, it would be Meursault, see Nothing There discussion for reasons.

Either that or potentially Don due to her persona and clear imitation of an honourable fixer, which has slipped multiple times such as in Canto 2

Tree Sap Meur:

I think I might have been smoking [Giant Tree Sap] when doing this because i do not remember putting this here.

I think(?) The primary reason that it was placed in Meursault is because of the uncaring indiscriminate nature that the Sap is portrayed in, not doing anything out of malice but simply because it must to survive, it simply “reaps from what it sows” in a sense.

This can be related to the stranger in obvious ways so im not going to blabber too far about it.

Multi/Other explanations:

Some questions are those relating to the final miscellaneous tier, so lets go through them as well, and then I will do another follow up at a later date to see if there are any other questions that people want answered.

WellCheers:

I tried to avoid giving sinners EGO they already possessed, and I quite frankly do not know who is the best fitting for this EGO because the one that i would have chosen already got Soda so????

Anyways there are three options based on different straws i grasped at making this: Ishmael: Connection to the ocean

Meursault: Connection to the content lives that those who work the fishing boat day after day have, where they finally enjoy their tasks despite menial labour.

Sinclair: Major paradigm shift leading your life to enter an unforeseen world.

Outis: Stuck on a boat or journey.

Gregor: Funny shrimp arm.

All Around Helper:

I personally think that the Mirror Dungeon aberration of this, “all around cleaner” is a better fit for the cast, as its fitting for Rodion in particular, realisation of “not being special”. That being said I’m not sure if anyone in particular fits this abnormality, except for potentially Don Quixote.

Il Pianto De La Luna:

They often say that the moon is beautiful. 

But when enough time has passed, when you look at it and see what kind of face it truly wears...

You’ll realise you were madly in love with something so broken and shattered. In the end, we all become like the moon. All because we can’t bear ourselves." "

The concept(s) of: Love. Primal humanity. Obsession. Lack of/loss of control.

Ishmael, Heathcliff, Don Quixote.

This one is shorter for multiple reasons, but namely because I want to dissect this abnormality separately later on, because she's cool, but also because shes a backer abnormality and likely wont exist (although Steam Transport Machine exists so the fuck do I know)

Dream of a Black Swan:

Don Quixote, Hong Lou deserved this equally.

[Censored]:

I personally do not think that [Censored] can or will ever get an EGO.

Its archetype *IS* the unknown, it cannot be given to any sinner except for Faust due to her strong connection with knowledge itself. [Censored] is an abnormality that by design should not be given to a sinner, because even that implies too much about its existence; Unlike other archetypes, this cannot be defined nor related to the sinner's archetypes and stories, as it cannot be known nor defined in whole. 

I know this is disappointing, but I wholeheartedly believe that it is a betrayal of the abnormality itself to be given an EGO.

I highly recommend this linked video by Connor McGrath, which explains this concept in a much less pompous manner than I could ever do, which saves time for me and enjoyment for people who don't like my writing style.

That being said, I want to address the concept that [Censored] has been shown.

There is a common theory that [Censored] is related to the Smoke War, specifically being the “creature in the smoke” that Roland saw during his period.

Though I can't say anything in certainty, I refuse this on the above principles. [Censored] cannot be shown for the sake of its existence. 

For the other reasons that I don't think this is true: [Censored] is never shown creating smoke; The creature that Roland saw was the energy source of the previous L corp, which would mean that both L corps in succession used the same method of production without this ever being mentioned by anyone in the story; If we were to assume that everything within Project Moon’s universe, notably creatures, are due only to Lobotomy Corporation and Cogito, then we are completely disregarding the existence of 25 other singularities, natural creatures like the whales, the old “gods of the city” from ages past, and the magical powers and relics from the outskirts, as well as seemingly mystical features such as the rivers of Hades, one recently mentioned by name, and two others heavily implied – While it is not impossible, it is reductive to assume this of Censored in my opinion.

As a final note, people seem to forget that abnormalities don’t simply exist in the world, Lobotomy Corporation is the mother of abnormalities, and is the source of all of them.

Every single abnormality lies, and people seem to forget that they do not exist as they claim; Every abnormality is a conscious perception of an unconscious archetype extant in the autonomy psyche of humanity. Little Red Riding Hood did not grow up to become an abnormality, she did not have a long past of growing up and hunting the wolf, but her existence is that of one who has spent time hunting, obsessing, over this beast – She is not a person, but an existent being who has a perceived and personal history, which did not truly happen.

The same rule applies for every other abnormality, even those who have more recent histories, those who were captured or came to the facility of their own free will. It matters not, they are all borne forth from the collective unconscious, nothing more.

Spider bud:

This abnormality is too closely linked to Ryoshu for me to give it to anyone else by now, the concept of motherhood isn’t one that is shared well enough to any other Sinners.

Snow Whites Apple:

Yi Sang, Don Quixote, Heathcliff, Ishmael, Sinclair, Outis.

Mountain of Smiling Bodies:

See Naked Nest for my thoughts on this abnormality.

No:

No:

No.

[zukosdualdao]

i don’t begrudge people interesting aus, and i get why someone might be interested in exploring a plot where azulon didn’t really order ozai to kill zuko and that whole series of events went differently from what zuko was told and what the narrative says (and the comics, contentious as they are, further cement.)

that being said: when it comes to canon, i strongly dislike the argument that it can’t really be that azulon ordered ozai to kill zuko because it’s illogical when he just berated ozai for disrespecting iroh and lu ten after lu ten’s death…

because like… yes. it’s illogical, and unfair, and absurd, especially when he’s ostensibly doing it in the name of love for iroh and respect for the family line (which is not actually what it’s about, but more on that in a minute.)

it’s not logical or reasonable. that’s the point.

abusers don’t care about logic, not as it pertains to them. abusers will often give illogical orders or make unreasonable demands and then treat everyone else as the problem when they can’t live up to them or else point out the flawed nature of them.

(we also see how it affects zuko and azula, who have both been taught this behavior both by example (and, in zuko’s case, by being on the receiving end of it. the demand he endlessly search for a deity-like figure no one’s seen in a hundred years and most people believe to be forever-dead springs to mind.) in the storm, zuko unreasonably demands that they continue their search for the avatar and that the safety of the crew doesn’t matter, but the whole episode is about deconstructing that mindset and showing how he got there, and in the end, he chooses to do the right thing, saving a crew member and deciding to get the ship to safety instead of following aang. azula, by contrast, orders her own soldiers to pull in the ship despite the tides, and only doubles down (and violently threatens) when questioned, showing a lack of respect for the laws of nature itself. this is her first proper episode, and she never truly grows out of this mindset. see also: cherries accidentally left un-pitted being treated as evidence of high treason.)

there is a story about intergenerational trauma and the cycles of abuse being told here. azulon is contradicting himself. he’s a hypocrite! abusers often are! he doesn’t care, though, because why should he, when he defines what’s right and wrong—just as ozai does and as he teaches azula to—not through any consistent moral conviction or code but through what he decides to do and therefore what he perceives as his right to do? in his mind, the only ‘right’ is his final word, and the highest ‘wrong’ is going against it.

and while he couches his outrage at ozai’s attempt to usurp iroh’s place in the line of heirs in language that suggests it’s about loyalty to iroh and respect for the family line—it’s not really. it’s outrage that ozai, the son he clearly doesn’t care for, dares to question iroh’s place, and therefore azulon’s judgment and authority, as the rightful heir, the respected general, the golden child.

but it’s not even about genuinely respecting iroh or what he would want, whatever azulon may tell himself. iroh, who, even at the height of his imperialist indoctrination and military power, i very earnestly believe would have been horrified to learn azulon ordered zuko’s murder and that it was done, ostensibly, on “his behalf”—even though he never and never would have asked for it. and, especially coming just after lu ten’s death, i think he would hate for his grief at the loss of his son to be twisted and used in this horrendous way.

anyway. azulon’s order doesn’t match up with what he say he values and is trying to defend, but that’s because those things are not what he’s truly so angry about. it’s about control. he has it, and he will make any illogical, cruel, sadistic order he wants when someone challenges it, because he can.

which, by the way, is ozai’s whole MO as well.

[slasherstories123]

I've had this idea for a while but I can't write for shit😭 could you do RZ Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees with a s/o who's been with them for a while and just absolutely have their hearts and the slashers find the horrific sight of their s/o on the brink of death. The cause can be anything and Please have the s/o live I'm a sucker for happy endings❤️

Rz! Michael and Jason’s reaction to their s/o on the brink of death

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Rz! Michael Myers

Michaels cold manner came ever since he was in that sanitarium.

In this case, when he sees you nearly dying, he did things you’ve never seen him do.

You were sick. Very sick, and if you didn’t get medical help soon you’d die. When he came back he saw you on the floor.

The silent man stared at you for a few seconds before falling to his knees. Dropping the knife as he squeezed you for dear life. Michael didn’t know what to do, he can’t let you die. It won’t sit right with him, sure he kills lots of people but it doesn’t feel right to know that you’re dead. You’re kind to him, and cared for him like his mother did. He didn’t kill you and you accepted him. You looked up at him while letting out a bad cough. “Mike… when did you get here?” He didn’t move not let out any grunts in response. Grabbing on your shoulder when you tried to get up.

“I’m so sorry Michael… I didn’t want you to see me like this..” Thoughts raced through his head, he can’t go out like this, they’ll take him down and will think that he killed you. There’s only one option left…. He snatched his mask off, his dirty blond hair covered his face. You were taken back by the sudden movement but was too weak to do anything. He picked you up and walked out. He can’t drive, he doesn’t know how to. Michael’s used to walking, if he can walk all the way back to haddionfield, then he can surely walk you to the hospital.

Once you were taken into proper care, he left you there to heal, but would watch you from afar until you were free. He stayed by your side more after that happened. You didn’t mind, you couldn’t blame him either, for the first time in his life he was scared, scared of loosing you.

Jason Voorhees

One of his victims found out that you were on Jason’s side and got angry, stabbing you in the stomach before running off.

Once Jason saw it he was livid with anger, how dare they do that to you?! He didn’t stop until the guy was dead.

Once he did, he rushed back over to you, seeing that you took the knife out of your stomach, which in your case was a stupid move to do.

Jason freaked out as he looked around for something to stop the bleeding, he took his brown jacket off and put pressure on the wound. He was freaking out on the inside, trying to listen to what his mother was trying to tell him to do.

He tried his best to listen while making sure you were still awake, you didn’t dare open your eyes, but you did it for him, your eyes burned with tears. He felt bad. Luckily the stab wound wasn’t terrible, you just couldn’t move until the healing process was complete. You kept zoning out from time to time which made him tap your arm, begging you to stay awake for just a little while longer . He gently picked you up and took you back to the cabin you shared, now dealing with the wound with actual medical supplies. Then placing you on the bed.

Jason cared for your every need, and when there was nothing else left don’t him to do, he’d rest the side of his head on your stomach as his way of apologizing for letting it happen.