#still need to watch the whale too

[thompsborn]

hey y’all watching insidious the red room and !!!!!!!!!!! i love ty he’s a great actor and i’ve loved him since the first insidious movie and (i was like 11 and was like woah holy shit look at this little dude go i bet i could do that when in fact i would instantly die if i ever encountered anything even REMOTELY scary like the shit that happens in insidious) and then iron man 3 came out and i didnt recognize him as the same kid until like a year later and then i was like HOLY SHIT SAME DUDE!! and then ever since have just been distantly rooting for him and like

obviously since parkner became a thing i have mostly associated ty with harley even though i knew him from insidious first which is just my long winded way of saying this very simple thing:

artist harley.

k anyway bye i’m gonna finish watching this and then continue to think about all the ways this could apply to any sort of scenario with harley xoxo byyyyye

[vivwritesfics]

Gaming Noises

Max is loud af when he games. There comes a point where his girlfriend cant' sleep without his noise.

Before meeting Max, she hadn't been able to sleep without complete silence. She needed the perfect conditions: Silence in her bedroom, the bed to be the right temperature and for the blanket to not be folded up inside of itself.

Pretty small asks, if you ask me.

The first night she stayed at Max Verstappens house, she hadn't expected things to be any different to this. And, for that first night, they weren't any different.

No, Max waited until they were a few months into the relationship, until her staying at his happened more often than not, until he showed his true colours.

After they shared dinner, Max got up to put everything on the counter. "Schat, I'm gonna hop on the sim for a bit," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Okay, Maxie," she whispered, closing her eyes as he kissed her head. "I'm gonna go read something before I sleep."

While she was reading, she had her earphones in, music blasting as her eyes moved across the pages. She didn't know just how loud Max was being as he gamed with Team Redline.

It was only once she took her shut her book, took her earphones out and snuggled down under the covers did she hear it.

Max. He might have been in another room, but his voice was so loud. A frown crossed her face, but she still shut her eyes and tried to sleep.

It wasn't happening. She couldn't keep her eyes shut as Max's voice rang out, loud and clear. She grabbed a pillow and placed it over her head, but that did little to drown out the noise.

Wrapping the blanket around her body, she walked out of the bedroom. "Maxy," she groaned as she walked towards him. Max moved his head towards her, but he didn't look away from his screens. Not even when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You're so loud."

She was at such a state of tiredness that she didn't care that he was streaming, that the world could see her in this state.

Max leaned towards her. "I'm sorry, Schat," he whispered. "I'll try to be quieter."

Spoiler alert, Max wasn't quieter. She didn't get to sleep that night until he crawled into bed beside her. But she didn't mind when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing her head.

This continued on for the next four times she was sleeping at his. Every morning she woke up incredibly exhausted. Suddenly it made sense how Max drank so much Red Bull.

It was getting annoying, but she'd never be annoyed at him. He didn't know how loud he was being. Plus she just loved him too much.

She didn't know when she got used to Max's gaming noises. One day, while he was being loud, she fell asleep. She actually fell asleep while Max was shouting, laughing, and raging on the sim.

Max couldn't help but smile when he slipped into the bed beside her and held her close.

She stayed at his for three more nights in a row. For those nights, she fell asleep with no issue, snuggled between his sheets.

But then Max went to a race. She headed back to her own apartment to watch his race from the comfort of her sofa while getting on with work.

She'd spent so much time with Max recently that it was hard to be without him. Her apartment was too quiet, too cold, too lonely. She hated it.

But she stayed up and watched his race with a glass of wine with hand. The great thing about being with Max Verstappen is that you never have to worry about him. He was so far ahead of the rest of the grid that he was never really in any danger of crashing. She'd watch him win for the rest of her life she could.

She tried to go to sleep after the race. Got changed into her pyjamas, got under the covers and tried to get to sleep. It didn't happen. She tried to softly play whale noises. It didn't help.

Again and again she tried to get some sleep. But, no matter what she tried, it didn't happen.

Groaning, she unlocked her phone and called her boyfriend.

It was a minute before Max picked up. As soon as he did, she could already tell he was on his laptop. "Hey, Schat," he said, his voice raised slightly.

"Maxy," she groaned, clearly incredibly tired. "Somehow I'm used to how fucking loud you are when you game," she said. "Co you think you can keep me on the phone until you go to sleep?" She asked.

"Of course, my love," Max said.

He did just as she asked. Max continued to game, continued laughing, shouting and raging (but not seriously) as he played. In no time at all she was sleeping.

Max kept her on the phone beyond that. He kept gaming, kept the phone call going until he was ready to go to bed.

As soon as he logged off of the stream, Max picked up the phone and walked over to the bed. "You there, Schat?" He asked as he sat on the bed.

He got no answer.

"Goodnight, Mijn liefje. I'll be home tomorrow," he said and ended the call.

[silassinclair]

Yandere Boxer x Reader 2

Masterlist Here!! // Previous Part Here!

CW // Nonconsentual touching

A couple days have passed since Vladimir has been on life support. And today he finally woke up.

“Doc…?”

You turn your head inhumanly fast when you hear the quiet mutter of the fighter. Rushing over to the bed you get some water and some medicine.

“You’re finally awake Vladimir. Everyone was worried about you.” You say and lean his bed up so he can drink some water.

Vladimir’s expression remains solemn. He’s thinking hard about something and it worries you. Vladimir has always been your least favorite guy here at the gym. He’d sexually harass you and catcall you everyday but he’s still your patient.

“Do you remember what happened? Who did this to you?” You ask him carefully.

The man’s knuckles whiten as his fist clenches and he utters gutturally, “I can’t remember.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s alright. What matters is your recovery.”

For the rest of the day you stay by Vladimir’s side until he was ready to walk on his own. He’s a tough guy so he was able to get up and leave all by himself. It’s late at night now though so it’s time for you to wrap it up. You pack your belongings in your backpack but pause when you hear your clinic door open. Facing the door you see Viktor, your ex childhood best friend.

“Clinic is closed for the day. Everyone left already so why are you still here?” You ask him.

Viktor just stands there quietly. He looks around the room and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Just wanted to check on you.” He says in his deep timbre.

You look at him skeptically. “Do you need something?”

He faces you with a small crooked frown. “No…”

Viktor has always been the quiet type. Even when he was a little boy. Some habits never change you supposed.

“Viktor I know you’re here for a reason. You can tell me.” You say and offer him a rare smile.

The tall man gives a guttural hum before saying, “It’s unsafe for you to go home at this hour alone.”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. He’s worried about you. But why now? Here he is wanting to keep you safe yet he brushed you aside in high school like you were a leech. What changed his tune?

“Viktor I’m perfectly capable of going home myself.”

He grunts disapprovingly and takes large steps closer to you making you freeze. His body is so close to yours now. Only mere inches separating the two of you. To look him in the eye you have to crane your neck up just because of his sheer height.

Ever so slowly he puts a large, roughened hand on your shoulder. His expression is sincere as he says, “Kroshechnyy (Tiny) please. I can’t explain why I did what I did in high school right now. The story is far too long and complicated. And I do apologize for leaving you all alone and casting you away. I don’t ask for forgiveness, all I ask for is for you to let me make up for not being there for you.”

You take in his words wholeheartedly and nod in understanding. Viktor is mature, everything he does is with reason and comes with explanation. And there is no hatred in your heart towards him. You could never hate Viktor even if you tried. So you nod.

“Okay. I expect an explanation one day because I’m worried about you. It… really scared me when you suddenly cut all contact. I don’t forgive you but I won’t let our past affect our jobs. So let’s just take things slow and build our way to becoming friends again?”

Your answer made the stoic man’s heart soar above the atmosphere. All he can think of is that he has a chance again. He couldn’t help but pull you into an embrace. An embrace he’s been thinking of for years. Viktor’s missed your touch, how your body melted against his as you cried into his chest when you ran away from home. Or how you’d cuddle against him while watching an R rated movie when you two weren’t supposed to. He’s missed you so so badly.

You on the other hand felt like you just got swallowed whole by a whale. Sometimes you forget how puberty hit Viktor like a freight train. Unlike when you two were kids his hugs now felt like you were being eaten. Your arms can barely wrap around his torso for goodness sakes! But this is getting really awkward for you so you pat his back with your hand.

“Uhm can you let go of me now? We’re not quite friends yet Viktor. I'm still pretty mad at you.”

The giant lets go of your smaller frame with the face of an injured puppy. Never would you have thought that an ass kicking brutality machine like Viktor would pout.

“I’m sorry. I just missed you a lot.” He mutters with his head down in shame.

"I understand that but you have to understand how I feel too Viktor. You really hurt me back then. So let's just keep our hands to ourselves yeah?"

He nods reluctantly and follows you out of the clinic and into the main gym. All the lights are off, only the ominous glow of moonlight through the windows provides light. Once you two arrive outside you both make your way down the sidewalk together. You didn't have a car or bike so you walked everywhere. It's unsafe but you can't afford safety.

"It's supposed to snow today."

"Huh?"

You look up at Viktor in question. "What did you say again?"

But at that very moment you felt the icy touch of a snowflake land on your nose. And seconds later millions of more flakes fell from the black night sky. Each flake was fat and heavy; not just little flurries of ice. No, this was real snow. And it was damn cold too.

"Oh no I should have taken the bus. Fuck." You curse to yourself. "I'm sorry for dragging you with me Viktor. Go head home now, I can get home myself."

"Don't say sorry. I asked to come with you. My fault." Viktor utters. But you don't hear him well. Instead you utter a quick goodbye and tell him to get home safe. You continue on your way home by yourself leaving Viktor behind. The snow rises on the sidewalk millimeters by the second making your walk more slippery and annoying.

When you arrive at the front door of your cheap apartment a wave of warmth washes over you. Maybe the cold has made you go numb and this is an illusion of warmth. Unlocking the door and going inside you stomp your shoes on the doormat to get the pesky snowflakes off. So does Viktor.

Viktor...

"VIKTOR?!" You shout and look up at him. Low and behold there's the 6'3 boxer right at your closed door. How could you miss him? He's fucking huge!

"There's no need to yell. We are indoors." He mutters and looks around at your messy apartment from where he stands like a statue.

Opening the door with a swing you put your hands on Viktor's chest and try to push him out. "Get out of my house! How did you even get here?!"

He looks at you plainly while you try to push his unmoving form out the door. "I said I would walk you home. Also this is an apartment, not a house."

The door shuts with a loud slam from the sheer force of your swing. "Quit messing with me! You can't be here Viktor! This is my hou- apartment!"

He just looks down at you and nods.

"Viktor! Ugh oh my god you're so freaking dense! I'm a woman." You gesture to your chest.

"I'm aware." He replies, eyes locked on your chest.

"N-NO! Stop looking at my chest!" He doesn't even flinch when you shove your palm in his eyes to make him look away.

"You wanted me to look at it."

"NO I-!" Your arms slap down to your sides. "Ugh... The point is that you can't just be in a woman's apartment. Especially without her permission! You're a man, I'm a woman. It's inappropriate."

Viktor quirks an eyebrow. "What are you implying?" His dark downcast eyes gaze into your own. A mixture of complex emotion stir within yours while there's only one in his.

Pure, Unadulterated, Affection

"Kroshechnyy." He hums gently and twirls a lock of your h/c hair in his finger. He's close, too close for friends let alone work acquittances. You can smell the shower gel and the dupe designer perfume on him. It's intoxicating.

But this is Viktor… the same man who one day cut you off and treated you like a stranger. You snap out of your daze and slap his hand away. "Stop that. We're not going there. You can stay here until the snow storm clears. But the moment the last flake falls I want you out."

He smirks and nods with a hum. "Thank you." Viktor hangs his jacket on your coat rack and steps further into your messy apartment. Not wanting him to trip in the dark you flick the light switch on.

Your living room is small. Small couch, small T.V, small dining table in the corner. There’s a tower of unwashed dishes in the sink and a bunch of medical textbooks on the table.

“I didn’t know I’d have a guest over so I didn’t tidy up.” You say as you scurry around the living space to clear some of the clutter.

“Hmm.” Viktor hums. Instead of standing like his usual still self he decides to help you clean, much to your dismissal.

“Hey you don’t have to do that! I got it.”

“Hm.”

He’s got it.

“No no don’t bother trying to clean that off, it’s been stained like that for months.”

“Hm.”

The stain is gone.

It goes back and forth like this for half an hour until your living room is all tidied up. This would have taken you over an hour without Viktor’s help. And you feel bad for having him help but you can’t help but feel grateful.

You two are seated at the table. As a subtle thanks to him you give him some left over beef stew which he devours under minutes.

“Thank you for helping me clean up… I appreciate it.” You thank him shyly.

Viktor looks up at you from his empty bowl. “No problem. Think of it as a favor between friends.”

The soft smile that grows on your face can’t be helped. His words were just so sweet. Viktor really was trying to make up for the past. And you understand he can’t tell you why he suddenly shut you out but you do know that the reason was likely for your own good. He did mention he got involved with bad people…

But there’s other issues at hand now. Like sleeping arrangements. The couch is tiny. No way could Viktor sleep on it. You however can kinda fit on it. Well, a quarter of your legs will be hanging off but it’s either that or sharing a bed with Viktor. And you’d rather not.

“So sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the couch since you won’t fit and you can take my bed.” You say and put away his bowl.

Viktor follows you into the kitchen as you wash the dish. “No. This is your home. You will sleep on your bed.”

“But what about you?” You say slightly worried. If he sleeps on the couch he’ll get some serious muscle pains. And that isn’t good for him considering he’s a boxer.

“Simple. We share bed.” He smiles with a small dopey grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Бо” (no)

“Yes you are.”

“Бо”

“You 6 foot bump on a log; I swear to god I’ll kick you off this bed and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I’d like to see you try kroshechnyy. Also, I am 6 foot 3 inches. Get it correct.”

You groan and turn the other way. It was like you two were kids again, bickering and fighting over who got most of the blanket.

After a large yawn you mumble, “Whatever. I’m exhausted so goodnight…”

Viktor says nothing in return. After a little under half an hour though you begin to snore softly after succumbing to your slumber. Viktor on the other hand has been wide awake the whole time. Flat on his back he stared at the ceiling waiting for you to fall asleep.

And now you were.

He leans up slowly as to not rustle the covers too much. Your eyes are shut and your lips are slightly parted, a tell tale sign of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully Viktor gets out of the bed. He walks around to your side where you lay asleep and vulnerable. Dark thoughts come to mind. He could do anything he wanted to you. You’re so small and weak compared to him. There’s no stopping him if he just picks you up and takes you home with him.

Scarred fingers gently brush against the plush of your cheeks. They’re so soft and warm.

“Cute.” He thinks to himself with a smile. Everything about you was adorable. Your protective nature of people because you’re a doctor, your height, your smile, and your personality.

Viktor’s so proud of you. He’s proud that you were able to make it out of the trenches of their east European town unscathed. Unlike him; he had to go through hell and back just to make enough money for food. He was never book smart like you. He was street smart, but street smarts didn’t put food on your plate.

His hands wander to your bare collarbone. Why would you wear such a revealing night shirt in the same bed as him? You were the one going on about how he was a man and you were a woman after all. But here you are seducing him with that low rise silk night top.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispers lowly while tracing over your skin with the tip of his finger.

“What do I have to do to make you mine?… I’ll do anything.”

“And I mean it.”

[astonmartinii]

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

view all comments

user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

view all comments

user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

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user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

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user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

[thegnomelord]

Shark Merperson reader is real gud.

- 🦈

(HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU TO WHICH EVER ANON REQUESTED THAT BECAUSE I FUCKIN LOVE SHARKS.

Now Im thinking of a Price x Reader, because shars are the oldest species known to exist. Obviously sharks arent immortal, they've just been on this earth way b4 tress bloody existed.

So Im thinking the readers an eldritch creature, they represent sharks as a whole, as long sharks exsist they exsist. Heck they mights of even of been Prices mentor when he was in his draconic 100s? (Late 20s?).

Imagine Price missing his friend calls him up to see hows hes doing. Reader elated to meet an old friend, accepts the invitation to meets up with him. Reader definitely scolds him for lossing a wing, honestly is pertrified Price lost a piece of himself and thought he was retiring due to it. Cut ahort to him smacking him slap dab on the head when he learns he's lost it a long time ago and didnt tell him.

Cue wholesome interactions th 141 and etc. Heck maybe some romance with Price.

Just a blurb i had yo tell you abt)

Okay, this tickles my eldrich abomination trying to act human itch

CW:SFW, eldritch reader, kissing

Price knows you're there the second he steps onto the old wooden pier, able to smell seaweed and brine and something in the air — what he thinks the bottom of the ocean smells like, old rot of decaying whales and older heat of geothermal vents — the soft wind billowing his hair like the breathing of an elderly beast.

He knows you're watching him, passively at least, washed up mermaid purses dotting the beach to give you a glimpse of the world above the waves through the yolks vital for the pup's survival, able to dream of the warm sun and course sand while you slumber beneath the waves.

"Oi, ser, yer look like a wee lass waiting for her sailor." Soap's sharp voice cuts through the air, the werewolf far too energized for his own good, the sand in his fur not dampening his mood when he can just shake himself off and flick the grains on Simon.

"Hah," Price snorts, "Maybe I am." He tilts his head back to the sea, sharp eyes watching the breaking waves. "Time to wake up old friend." He mutters your mangled name under his breath, mortal lips and vocal cords unable to replicate your own voice.

The young ones in his team lack the sight needed to notice your form slowly rise from the sea like a submarine breaking through the ice, only the visible flicker of air and the receding water keying them in. Price old enough to see you without needing the inner surface of his skull to be dotted with eyes. Though even he sees your real form like a man having a stroke — vaguely familiar at first yet the details are undefinable — flesh and sea melding together without rhyme or reason, long strings of seaweed bearing miniature eyes with pups wriggling inside, cookie cutter sharks boring holes through finless corpses so long eel sharks may form ever reforming sinews, fossilized bone and old rock giving giving support to the massive insult to reality's laws; birth and life wrapped up in death.

You're an affront to logic. And with one sneeze from existence itself you're human standing in front of him.

Eerily human.

Perfectly human.

Almost.

"What the fuck?" He can faintly hear Gaz's voice, all of them only now noticing you stand where you weren't previously.

Your hand touches his back before he even registers you move, always slightly damp, "When did this happen?" You ask as you trace the spot where his wing used to be. "What did this?"

"And a 'hello' to you too sweetheart." He clasps a hand around your waist, purring softly in greeting as he pulls you closer to his chest. Even if he sees you once every few centuries, even if you don't possess the ability to reciprocate, his love for you is as youthful as it was when he was but a wyrm.

Your facial features remain neutral like the ones of sunken statues, but you blink, and for a few seconds he can see that yawning abyss in your eyes. "Hi." You say, your hand still tracing the bump created by atrophied flight muscles, trying to judge how fresh it is. "Explain."

Your tone sounds like a predator baring it's teeth, but he knows you wouldn't harm him. "In a lil' bit." He snorts, puts pressure on your back until he forces your legs to move. "Come, want you to meet my boys."

The introductions are odd on both ends considering you hadn't spoken with people other than Price since that Icarus of a passenger ship mistook your fin for an iceberg and they've never met an old one like you. But you like them, they compliment Price just like the small scale he gave you makes the pearls and gold offered to you through the ages shine more.

Even if your face is unreadable, somehow they can figure out you're not too amused when you hear he'd lost his wing during a mission. "I told you arrogance would cost you." You at least you can mimic a sigh as you rub your head, "At least you retired." You say,

"We wish!" Soap snorts before he can help it, and the next thing they hear is a horrific crack that has them jumping out of their skin.

Your head had whipped 180 degrees with the rest of your body remained in place, the laws of nature nothing more but blurry guidelines. "You. . .did retire?" You ask, voice like the roar of a whirlpool.

"About that," Price starts, unable to finish his thought as you slap him upside the head as if he's still the whelp who thought he could brave an ocean storm.

"You'll put me in the grave." You growl, holding him by the ear, words spilling from your mouth like seawater filling the empty bowels of a ship. "I swear your scaly hide hasn't learned a single thing-"

"Should we help?" Gaz wonders as they watch you chastise their captain like he's a boy.

"No, this is great entertainment." Ghost chuckles.

"Want me ta grab the popcorn?" Johnny ads, already snacking, tail thumping against Simon's leg and growling playfully when Gaz reaches for the snacks.

Eventually your anger relents, mood changing as swiftly as the tide. You spend the time they have left learning about the men he's chosen as his hoard. Kyle's a bit weary of you just due to his harpy nature, but soon enough you two can be found sitting on the pier and fishing, and if you purposely make the waves flow so a big fish snags on Kyle's line, Price never says anything about it, not when his boy has a smile as big as the sun when he looks at the gigantic fish flopping on his hook.

You attempting to help Soap cook the barbeque, but you're fine motor skills are rusty after all these years of slumber, so the food is slightly burnt but Price loves when his food's basically charcoal and eats it with a smile, especially as it keeps you from telling all the embarrassing stories you have of him, from when he got his ass bit by a squid to when he was so horny he ended up rutting against an extra curvy piece of rock, though the rest have already heard enough dirt to bury him for the next several decades.

Unfortunately for Price, you and Ghost hit it off like a house on fire, and Ghost ends up learning far too many ways to hurt people without killing them that most definitely are against the Geneva conventions but you pull seniority on it. Simon in turn, teaches you how to play cards, which, when you're literally a god that can see almost everything including your opponent's cards, means the shmucks Simon ropes into playing you and Simon end up with empty pockets.

As the sun stars to dip behind the horizon you wind up sitting next to Price by the fire, the others splashing in the water.

You feel his wing spread behind your back to pull you closer to him, "I missed this." He says, knowing you won't comment on the 'I missed you' hidden behind his vellum words.

"Last time we met like this Napoleon was still emperor." You hum, a small yawn escaping you, sharp tips of shark teeth peeking from human gums. "And you had two wings." You can't help but point out, making it clear you've not forgiven him about not informing you.

Price pointedly ignores your later comment, his hand tentatively, almost shyly, reaching down to sit on top of yours. "Afraid I'll forget about you?"

His pulse picks up when you shift your hand to hold his, fingers lacing together when you don't have a tail as a human. "You wait for me." You shrug, holding your free arm up, reality wheezing for a few moments before his scale is suddenly in your hand, shiny and unharmed just as it was when he'd given it to you all those years ago. "And I dream of you."

His eyes widen and heart melts, a purr rumbling in his chest "C'mere sweetheart," He rumbles and pulls you into a kiss, free hand holding your chin stable.

You taste of salt and blood, of chilling cold and boiling heat, of something ancient and familiar and Price drinks it all down like a babe, tongue licking in your mouth and fangs nibbling on your lip, feeling you respond, the touch of hungering god as soft as silk, just to him.

But he knows this won't last.

A shark has no reason to stay on land, and a dragon can't survive underwater regardless of how much he wants. Soon you'll return to slumber, and Price won't know when he'll see you again, if he'll see you again, or if you'll learn of his passing when your waves swallow up his ashes.

He doesn't notice the prickling in his eyes but you do, wiping a stray tear with the pad of your thumb, your other hand still wrapped around his. "Don't worry John," You say, statue features finally cracking into a small smile, "I'll stay for a little while." You say and lead him into another kiss, the other members of TF141 leaving you two to catch up on lost time...

[sonotpattismith]

YOURE WRITING IS LIT AMAZING OMG- I had an idea: Sukuna switching in and telling u yuji likes you (romanticly and sexually) and eventually switching back and the aftermath…. 🙏🙏🙏

Forgive Me for Whatever I Do (Yuji Itadori x Reader)

word count: 4.9k warnings: a teeny bit dark, angst, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: y'all, I think I kind of altered what the original vibe was meant to be for this request, but I am apparently physically incapable of not making a fic angsty, I'm SORRY. Also, this was a bit inspired by Remember You by Dominurmom, link if you wanna listen cause it makes me cry. I hope you all enjoy and please remember my requests are always open! 🥹🫶🏻

Friends. It was a good word-- a safe word. It was one you had found solace in hiding behind for years. How could you dare risk the beautiful ebb and flow you had found within the days of while you’d experienced with your best friend? No matter the pools of warmth that engulfed your chest with each glittery-eyed smile-- no matter how the both of you had always found your way back to each other whether rain or sunshine-- no matter how much you loved Yuji Itadori. Friends; it was a safe space. 

There was a time when you wanted something more. It was so early on, before you were too scared to lose him yet. When you two had first met, you felt undeniably pulled toward the bright-eyed and charismatic boy. Both of your lives had been overwhelmingly and newly hectic, what with your being thrust into a life of curses and sacrifice. Similarly, Yuji was still coping with the abrupt weight of managing the demon he now shared a body with. It was never the right time. 

So, your timid glances and blushing compliments soon turned into confiding conversations and fierce loyalty. You two fell into the gentle and safe rhythm of a blossoming friendship. Of course, deep down within the confines of your cowardly hearts, you were always drawn to one another. There was always a hope, never communicated, that maybe once your lives found a peaceful medium, you two would no longer need to hide behind the solace of friends.

This certainly wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. 

Yuji had always made it appoint to keep you and Sukuna at opposite ends of his world, in all senses of the phrase. He barely spoke of him to you at all, in fact. It was actually something you argued often with him about, worried about the impacts of keeping that kind of burden locked away would have on him. In typical Itadori fashion though, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion of an argument with you. No, he’d just squint his honey-brown eyes, and flash that bashful smile to you, a half-assed excuse about why it wasn’t that big of a deal falling easily from his lips. 

The truth was though, it was a big deal to him-- a massive one, in fact. After having already witnessed what that counterpart of his could do, the havok it could ensue on those important to him-- nothing scared him more than the prospect of you coming face to face with Sukuna. Yuji felt this fear so much so that he spared you the details. He didn’t want you to think of him in such a way, to know that any part of him was capable of such atrocities. Yes, he’d bear it all if it meant none of it touched you. 

So, when he felt his own body deteriorating rapidly in tandem with the whaling blows of cursed energy courtesy of the special grade the two of you had been cornered by, the thought flickered in the back of his head. Heaving out a pained groan, Yuji’s gaze found yours, and he pushed it back down. But you screamed. You screamed, and he couldn’t help you-- he couldn’t move. You screamed, and he was trapped beneath the concrete pillar that had fallen so unceremoniously over his heaving chest. You screamed, and suddenly, it was his only option. 

“Sukuna!”

The King of Curses was not one for favors, especially not for the brat that held him hostage in what was meant to be his vessel. He assessed the situation before him-- the one he’d been watching intently from the safety of his own shrine. Through his insolent vessel’s eyes, he could only see you. It was all the brat would look at, you were all he ever looked at. Whether it be the back of your head, hair swaying gently as you’d turn to smile at him, and Sukuna would always feel the boy’s heart clench fouly at the sight. On some occasions, you’d be looking right at him, your eyes with stars behind them, and the demon wanted nothing more than to rip them right from their sockets simply for the way his vessel would tremble under your gaze.

Pathetic. 

Maybe if the brat had been looking toward something else for once, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But he was racing toward you at every chance he got, taking blows that were meant for you, countering attacks that you had antagonized. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so weak.

So, he laughed. In the back of Itadori’s frenzied mind, Sukuna cackled at him. The boy whispered a plea, tears stinging his eyes as he watched you stumble to your feet in a grave attempt to escape the repeated blows being landed on you. 

“Anything, I’ll do anything, please!”

The demon liked the sound of that. Yuji could feel the control slipping away from him, his consciousness being sucked up by the all consuming darkness lurking within. For just a moment, he fought against it, staring up at you in an almost drunken haze. 

“I’m sorry. Please,” He called out to you, voice hoarse and morphing into one you didn’t recognize. “Just look away.”

In mere seconds, the boy you loved was shifting before your eyes. His features were sharpening; sinister, black marks pooling onto his skin like ink. The second set of eyes below his own snapped open, and they were looking right at you. Maybe, Sukuna thought, if he saw it for himself he’d understand, without the barrier of this boy’s soul in the way. Still, as he stared into your fearful eyes, he felt nothing but indifference-- no-- disgust. 

Jagged chunks of concrete rubble sliced through the air around you, knocking into your already weak body, some even slicing through the special grade in front of you. Blinking back the dust that invaded your sight, when your eyes opened again, the curse was desecrated; an explosion of grotesque, purple evidence of what it once was. 

Sukuna didn’t care to save you. What enticed him more for the approximate two minutes he had left in control of this body, was breaking down the brat a little. In all fairness, when you stood there so helplessly, so vulnerable with eyes full of fear before him, how could he resist? His impossibly sharp teeth flashed under the moon’s light as he stepped toward you, torn shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder and chest. 

You wanted to apologize to Yuji, to tell him that you tried to look away like he’d asked. It wasn’t a fair request though. No, not when your best friend, the boy you loved, was being held hostage. You feared if you looked away he might do something awful to him-- unaware of what lurked in the dark chasm of his thusfar imprisoned mind. 

“I’ve gotta say,” Sukuna’s gravelly voice reached your ears. It didn’t hold that playfully boyish cadence you had come to love. In its place was one that mocked you, laughing boisterously in the face of your trembling fear and anticipation of what he’d do next. “In the flesh, you’re pretty underwhelming.”

You gulped down the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. Still crumpled on the ground from the last hit you’d taken, you weren’t sure if you should attempt to stand; unsure if he’d find that acceptable. Sukuna tilted his head at your silence, taking two slow and calculated steps forward. 

“Disgusting.” He spat suddenly, gripping you by your elbow to haul you up. You yelped in surprise, trying not to shed the tears that welled in your eyes at the sting of his nails against your skin. “This brat spends day in and day out allowing himself to be consumed. And for this?”

Your brows furrowed at his words, and you pulled against his grip. 

“Give him back.” You gritted through your teeth, fear igniting your body in tremors. 

Sukuna’s red eyes, all four of them, lit up sinsiterly, grin widening in a manner that appeared painful. You realized for that split second that he likely didn’t have much time at all to wreak havoc, and he was enjoying this. He wanted to hurt you-- to hurt Yuji, even with the limited scope of his abilities at the moment. 

“How romantic.” He cooed mockingly. His hand came up to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look into the eyes of your best friend, but he wasn’t there. Your stray tear betrayed you, slipping down your mangled cheek. Leaning forward with gusto, he licked a debauched stripe up the path your traitorous tear had taken, cackling madly as the salt tainted his tongue. Pushing you back a bit, his voice was suddenly booming, cracking at your abused eardrums with fervor. “All day!”

You tried to keep your face neutral, to be unwilling to give up the shred of dignity you had left-- for Yuji. 

“All day this brat pines and trembles and burns with the thought of you-- pathetic!”

For a moment, you felt your heart stop at his words. Surely he wasn’t implying that Yuji, even in the slightest sense, saw past more than just your friendship. You knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t him, but your lips were moving to a different rhythm than your mind was, and you were whispering to him in hushed bewilderment, 

“What?”

“And you’re so stupidly oblivious, too? How revolting.” Despite his disgusted words, the baleful smile on his face grew that much wilder. It struck you then, how much you had disconnected yourself from the fact that the body before you, holding your body weight up with a deafening grip on your jaw, was Yuji. You didn’t see him. When you looked at that pink hair and felt the familiar curves of his hands, he wasn’t your best friend. “I suppose you’re not the only ignorant one. I can practically feel the way your weak little heart pounds everytime that brat looks at you.”

Your cheeks were burning at this point, and if he couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight, he could surely feel the heat under his mean fingers. Blinking away your tears, you willed your lip to stop trembling. 

“He doesn’t know it, you know.” Sukuna chuckled, spurred on by your painful silence. “I spend all day having to listen to him whine about his unreciprocated, little love-sick infatuation.”

It was making your stomach churn, the way he was turning your feelings for one another, ones that you were only now becoming privy to, into something so revolting. The words falling from his lips were ones you prayed so long to hear. You had spent so many sleepless nights staring back at your best friend where he laid sprawled out on the other side of your bed, both of you too traumatized from the day’s monstrosities to sleep alone-- to leave each other. This isn’t how you wanted to find out though. 

Amongst the desecration of your normal lives, you wanted to grasp onto the hope of innocence, of pure and untouched love and fondness. You hoped for bashful confessions and spontaneous kisses, ones that were purely Yuji’s intent. Sukuna was snatching the opportunity right from beneath you two, and he knew it. 

You shook your head, or tried to with the grip that was forcing your gaze on him. 

“My days are filled with his insolent whining, and I don’t find solace at night either.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think by the eager way he was spilling these thoughts out to you that he was happy to spend his fortitude in such a manner. You did know better though, and you knew what he enjoyed was the chance of domestic normalcy he was ripping away from the boy that held him hostage. “No, he touches himself at night.”

“Stop it.” You spat, unable to hold back the dam of your tears any longer. They spilled freely down your cheeks, and you swore you could see his red eyes roll into the back of his head. Your weak hands came up in a desperate attempt to shield your ears from the intimate secrets Yuji likely never intended for you to hear-- not like this anyway. The hand that held your jaw quickly fell, and he laced his fingers through yours mockingly, forcing you to listen. 

“That brat thinks of you all night when he’s beating himself off like the degenerate he is. Sometimes he calls out your name too, when he--”

You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling as though you might throw up. Above all else, your heart ached for Yuji, and you wondered if he could hear what was going on, if he was clawing his way out. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you never meant to find out this way. You wished you could forget.

“Yuji!” 

Your cry made the demon smile, but it quickly faded with a knowing furrow of his brows. Eyes drooping lazily as he looked toward you, he shook his head. The marks on his face were slowly absorbing back into his skin. His upper lip curled in disgust. 

“Pathetic.”

In an instant, he was falling to the floor limply, bringing you down with him. When you looked up in a frenzied haze at the head that fell onto your chest, you noted with relief that it was Yuji again. His eyes fluttered open deliriously, taking in his surroundings. Looking up, he was met by your grief-stricken expression, fresh tears clinging to your face. His freshly healed arms were pulling himself up clumsily, hovering over you in a way that made it obvious that fear was gripping at every nerve in his body. 

“What— what did he do? Are you okay?” 

It was Sukuna’s very intention, the manner in which you had no choice but to see Yuji so differently now. As he hovered over you, unintentionally entrapping you under his tensing arms and bare chest, you couldn’t help but blush as the curse’s words rang in your mind. The thought of the boy you’d dreamt about for so long thinking of you in such a way, touching himself to the thought of you, longing for you-- and he was right there within your reach. 

“You… you don’t remember?” You whispered, trying to calm your racing heart. 

Yuji quickly shook his head, his comforting brown eyes tracing down your body as if to assess the damages. When his hands molded around your waist to pull your shirt up, the one that was slowly flooding through with blood from the gash on your side, you gasped and flinched away. He gulped back his nausea at the racing thoughts of what Sukuna could have done to you to warrant such a response. His hands reeled back to his sides, and he sat back on his knees. 

“I got pretty messed up back there… I think I was still healing.” he explained slowly, wanting so badly to help you, but unsure of how you viewed him now-- how scared you were of him. What he didn’t know was that you weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you wanted to pull him in, hold him close, tell him that you’ve loved him all this time as well. It should have been an idyllic occasion. In the back of your mind though, you knew if Yuji hadn’t confessed to you himself already then there was likely a reason, and you shouldn’t force the decision onto him just because the curse residing in him ripped away the layers of protection that shrouded those feelings. “Please, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”

He didn’t remember, and maybe it was better that way. At least one of you could be spared the humiliation. It took some time, but you had convinced Yuji that you were simply shaken up from the fight, though you felt he still wasn’t entirely convinced. His movements were painfully careful as he carried you to safety. It was so clear in the way he touched you with such delicacy, that he feared scaring you more than he thought he already had. 

You stared up at the ceiling that night, tears clouding your vision as you toyed with the edge of the gauze that wrapped your abdomen. In all the time you two had known each other, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so scared of opening up to you about the monster he shared a body with. Countless nights you’d spent after missions, as he stared unblinkingly at a wall, begging him to confide in you. In just under five minutes with the thing though, you understood the cruelty he was trying to protect you from. 

There was a soft knock on your door, and you lifted your head up as it slid open. Yuji stood tentatively at the entrance, looking like the absolute picture of health compared to your mangled self. He was scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, a little quirk you’d grown to love, much like everything else about him. Flashing you his attempt at a bashful smile, he tilted his head at you. 

“Thought you could use some company.” He offered. It was somewhat of a routine of yours to meet together after a particularly grueling mission. The two of you would lay in bed, facing each other with moronic smiles on your lips as you talked about everything-- everything but the horrors you’d witnessed. It was the only way you could find yourself calm enough to fall asleep. If you two talked each other’s ears off about the comparable strength of two manga characters, or argued halfheartedly over what was the superior horror movie in your already trash-fire line up, if you distracted one another line by line-- the two of you would forget about what you saw. Just long enough to allow your eyes to forcefully drift in exhaustion. 

Now though, as he stared undecisively at you, you could tell he wasn’t sure if he would still be allowed such privileges. Despite being lost in the labyrinth of your own mind over the night’s events-- over him-- you smiled softly for his sake and patted the spot beside you. Your breath hitched as he eagerly closed the door behind him and climbed into bed beside you. His sigh of relief fanned over the side of your face despite his attempt at concealing it. You felt his eyes on you, his body already on its side and facing you, awaiting for you to do the same. 

“Oh, your side.” Yuji sighed in ackowledgement, and you simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to reveal that you simply couldn’t look him in the eyes without bursting on the spot. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as he reached out to softly graze his hand over the wounded area. The boy saw the way your breath hitched and your expression shifted, slowly retracting his hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. Please, look at me.”

A little piece of your heart broke off at the pained desperation in his tone. Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, you turned your head to the side to look in his wide, distraught eyes. Softening your gaze, you struggled against your pain as you forced yourself on your side to face him. 

“No, Yuji, it’s okay--”

“No it’s not!” In an instant, he was sitting up, looking down at you as his chest heaved with purposeful breaths. “He’s taken everything from me, and I…”

His shoulders slumped, and a rosy tint rushed to his cheeks. 

“I won’t let him take you too-- I can’t. So, please, just tell me what I have to do to make you not scared of me anymore, and I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything.”

Unable to take it anymore, you moved to sit up with a grunt. Yuji’s hands quickly shot out to help you until you were facing him. He looked back at you with such conviction, such longing in his gaze, and, with hindsight bias, you wondered how you never saw it sooner. 

“You’re my best friend, Yuji… I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes?”

You pursed your lips, tentatively taking his hands into yours to hold them between you two. His breath hitched ever so slightly at the connection. Scraping your thumb over his knuckle absentmindedly in a manner that was scrambling his brain like eggs, you thought carefully on your next words. 

“You don’t think anything could ruin our friendship… right?” You asked timidly, eyes meeting his through your lashes. His brows furrowed at your question, and he found himself leaning forward to gaze into you sincerely, shaking his head quickly. 

“Nothing. Don’t you think we’ve been through too much together already? You’re kinda stuck with me.”

The hesitantly joking tone in his voice made you smile softly. Yuji had a way of easing your anxiety that way, as if there was a little door in your mind that only he had the key to open up and gaze into whenever he pleased. It gave you more confidence to continue your pursuit.. 

“And there aren’t any secrets between us? Nothing you’ve… not told me?”

Gulping thickly, he felt his face pale. There was something he was keeping from you, something he had come to terms with being content with if it meant he’d never put your relationship in jeopardy. An attempted smile broke into his face, but the corners of his lips were twitching anxiously. You could have melted at the sight. 

 “Uh… no. You know I tell you everything.” The lie stumbled from his lips unconvincingly. Your lips set into a firm line as you shot him a knowing yet playful look. Suddenly, his eyes were darting everywhere but you. They were at your hands, on your nose, on the ceiling, anywhere that would allow him to gather his thoughts. “Is this about the dent in your bathroom wall? Cause I promise I have a good explaination, a-and I was going to tell you, but you were already upset about the--”

“I love you.” It fell from your lips, permanent, unable to be drawn back in. In truth, the both of you could have died that night. Yuji was practically pinned under a building, and you had been face to face with the king of curses. The sentiment of either of you dying without having heard the depths of your feelings for one another was not lost on you. The lifestyles you led were perilous, self-sacrificing, and morbid. You already lived in fear that your next mission would be your last, and, as you were blanketed by the comfort brought upon by the proximity of the boy you loved so dearly, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel this type of fear too. Not for Yuji. 

“Take it back.”

Okay, maybe his blunt order hurt more than the boulder that flew into your side earlier, but you still stood by what you said. A small, breathless gasp fell from your lips as you stared at his solemn expression. 

“Oh,” you muttered out meekly, and, despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“I wanted to say it to you first.” He reiterated, his lips pulled to the side in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded you. “I spent years thinking of what I wanted to say to you. Take it back.” 

Relief flooded your system like a drug, flowing through your veins and relaxing your constricting muscles. In its place came a bashful flush at his words. Smiling softly in disbelief, you shook your head a bit.

“Okay,” you drew out slowly, watching him square his muscles back as if preparing for his line. “I take it back.” 

Despite his previous determination and insistence that he had something profound to say, all he could do was lean forward to press his lips against yours clumsily. He couldn’t help himself, not with the way your twinkling eyes stared up at him expectantly, glimmering with an excitement he felt he was alone with for years. A muffled huff of surprise from you was swallowed right up by his eager lips as he lunged forward to deepen the connection he’d just forged. 

“‘M sorry,” Yuji mumbled against your mouth, reaching up to grip at the side of your face as if you’d ever run from him. “Know I talked all that shit, but I forgot what I was gonna say. I love you. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”

He didn’t allow you any room for a response because his desperate push against your lips had you leaning back to accommodate the sudden weight, and you fell back against your pillow. The boy eagerly chased you, crawling over your panting form to pour out all the soliloquies he longed to spill out to you with some semblance of eloquence, he wanted it all conveyed to you through his frenzied devouring of you. 

Your mind was reeling with his sudden urgency, and you quickly came to the realization that the both of you had been living with this fear of passing one another up. Your hand snaked up to run along his chest, daring to explore up his neck and into the tufts of his pink hair. A soft moan of your name had you blushing profusely, suddenly remembering what Sukuna had told you about the extent of Yuji’s desires for you. You wondered if this was what he sounded like when he called out to you at night with his hands wrapped around himself. Squinting your eyes, you willed your imagination to take a quick u-turn, remembering that that wasn’t information Yuji had given up willingly. 

“Say it back.” Yuji suddenly demanded, finally tearing away from his assault on your lips to stare down at you determinedly. “Say it again.” 

Your free hand came up to cup his cheek. There was so much fear and guilt and sadness pent up in your chest at the prospect of what Sukuna had taken from him that night. It had never been like you to lie to him or keep things from him. As your thumb ran across his bottom lip lovingly, and he looked so accomplished, so content with how this night had somehow progressed in his favor, you realized that the curse hadn’t taken anything from him. Not when you were there to make sure that kind of hatred never touched him. 

“I love you too, Yuji.” 

His wide, boyish grin lit up the dim room. Swinging back down with fervor, the two of you laughed against each other as your teeth clashed messily. Humming contentedly, his wandering hands traveled down your side and snuck up your shirt. God, he’d dreamed of this for so long, and you were right there- underneath of him and pliable to his every touch. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, he could feel it in the way his boxers tightened uncomfortably against him, but he feared he may wake up at any second back in his dorm room alone, like he had so many times following his messianic dreams about what it may be like to have you. 

As his fingers creeped up, you flinched against his fervent grasp that lit your wounded side ablaze. Yuji was suddenly reminded of the night’s events, and he cursed quietly before reluctantly pulling away from you. Looking down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, an unbrittled exhilaration swirled in his chest. There would be so many more nights with you, he would make sure of it. He leaned forward to press a last, longing and solemn kiss against your forehead-- a promise that you two would come back to this. 

Carefully, he pulled his grasp away from your wounded side and settled down beside you. Unlike those countless nights the two of you shared a bed, Yuji laid snuggly against you, locking your knees under his strong legs. With his head propped up on his elbow, he beamed down at you, lovestruck as he affectionately tugged your shirt back down. As his fingers lingered against the protruding gauze, his expression creased a bit.

“You… you never told me what Sukuna did.”

Although he hated that he felt the need to ruin the moment with such dark thoughts, no amount of lust could have driven that fear from the back of his mind. Your smile faltered marginally at his words. Thinking of how excited he was to confess to you, and how ardently he fell into this new role so comfortably with you, exploring you with an innocence that was a stark contrast to the dark world you two traversed, you shook your head. Leaning up to press an assuring kiss to his cheek, you looked right at the slits under his eyes, as if daring the curse to acknowledge you. 

“He didn’t do a damn thing.”

masterlist.

[perfectsunlight]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥

aeri uchinaga x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: NONE ITS FLUFF

wrote this for @wonysugar and the other fellow seal enthusiasts out there ♡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭

aeri wasn’t too fond of animals growing up, but she had a lot of friends who were. she had friends with dog and cat obsessions, whales, wolves, and even horses. occasionally reptiles or spiders, but those were rare instances.

but she had never met someone with a seal obsession.

the japanese girl’s gaze remained on you as she watched you show your friends numerous photos of different seals, giggling to yourself and enthusiastically explaining different facts.

“i don’t get it,” aeri murmured to herself as ningning filed her nails next to her. “of course you don’t, you wouldn’t get it.” the younger girl replied matter-of-factly as she admired her hands.

she folded her arms across her chest, trying to feign disinterest as she continued to steal glances at y/n's animated discussion about her favorite animals. 

she couldn't help but find it a bit endearing.

ningning shot her a knowing look. "you're just mad because she's not paying attention to you."

aeri's cheeks flushed slightly at the accusation as she turned her head and snapped. “what are you talking about? i don't care about her or those seals.”

ningning smirked, clearly enjoying needling aeri. "oh, come on, it's written all over your face. you're totally into this whole seal thing."

aeri scowled, shooting a glare in y/n's direction. "i'm not into anything. and i certainly don't need her attention." ning rolled her eyes in response, flicking a loose ball of paper at her best friend in the process.  

"sure, keep telling yourself that. but it's obvious you're just too stubborn to admit it."

aeri's scowl deepened, and she turned away, trying to tune out y/n's enthusiastic chatter about the different seal species. despite herself, she found it hard to ignore the curiosity bubbling within her. why was y/n so obsessed with those aquatic creatures, anyway?

in an attempt to redirect the conversation, aeri cleared her throat and remarked, "they're just seals, nothing special. i don't see what the fuss is about."

however, she was unaware that the seal enthusiast herself overheard her.

“did you say seals?” y/n grinned as she launched herself into aeri’s desk, gripping the sides with an enthusiastic smile. 

the japanese girl tensed as y/n suddenly appeared at her desk, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her. she leaned back in her chair, trying to maintain her indifferent facade despite feeling cornered.

"yeah. so what?" aeri replied with a hint of annoyance, hoping to deter y/n's excitement.

y/n's eyes sparkled with fervor as she clasped her hands together, standing up straight in front of aeri and ning. "seals are amazing! did you know they can hold their breath underwater for like almost two hours?"

the raven haired girl shrugged dismissively, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "big deal. i've seen animals do more impressive things."

y/n wasn't deterred by aeri's dismissive attitude. her enthusiasm only seemed to grow as she leaned in closer, her eyes shining with excitement.

"but wait, there's more! seals have this incredible ability to sleep both on land and in water. they can even rest with half of their brain awake while the other half is asleep, so they stay vigilant against predators. isn't that fascinating?"

the japanese girl tried to maintain her nonchalant demeanor, but she couldn't help feeling a slight tug of interest. but in typical aeri fashion, she didn’t show it."i guess that's kind of interesting, but it's still not that big of a deal."

ning smirked, clearing seeing that her friend’s facade was starting to crack. "come on, just admit that you find it intriguing."

aeri shot ningning a glare before turning back to y/n. "fine, they have some unique abilities, but it's not like i'm suddenly a seal enthusiast or anything."

y/n grinned, clearly enjoying the interaction. "you don't have to become an enthusiast, but you would change your mind if you saw one in person. do you know who yuki is?”

aeri raised an eyebrow, slightly intrigued by y/n's mention of someone named yuki in connection to seals. despite her efforts to appear disinterested, she couldn't deny a growing curiosity.

"no. who's that?" aeri asked, trying to mask her budding interest behind a veil of nonchalance and a tone of disinterest. 

the other girl’s smile widened. "yuki is an adorable seal at the aquarium nearby. she’s so cute. you should come with me sometime to meet yuki. i'm sure you'd change your mind about seals."

the raven haired girl hesitated for a moment, contemplating the idea of visiting the aquarium as an excuse to hang out with aeri outside of school. but she quickly composed herself, not wanting to show any eagerness. 

"i don't have time for that. besides, i'm not interested in seeing some random seal."

y/n's excitement bubbled as she leaned in, hoping to entice aeri into joining her. "come on, it'll be fun! yuki is more than just a random seal. she's playful and incredibly adorable. i'm sure you'd enjoy meeting her."

aeri maintained her tone of indifference, still trying to dismiss the idea. "i highly doubt a fucking seal could be that interesting. and i already told you, i'm not interested."

ning, knowing fully well her best friend was definitely fumbling, chimed in teasingly, "oh, don't be such a grump. admit it, you're secretly wanting to meet yuki."

aeri scowled, feeling the pressure of their persistence. "i'm not curious at all! why would i waste my time seeing some seal doing tricks or whatever? what do they even do besides sit and swim?"

y/n's enthusiasm didn't waver as she continued to make her case. "seals are much more than that! they're incredibly intelligent creatures. especially yuki, she loves to interact with visitors."

the older girl crossed her arms but before she could open her mouth to respond with another snarky comment, class ended.

however y/n turned her attention back to her phone, looking at what looked like a harp seal (aeri had caught a glimpse of the name earlier).

“those animals are weird.” the older girl raised her eyebrows as she rolled her eyes, walking past y/n with her bag swung over her shoulder. too immersed in her gallery of seal images, y/n ignored her antics, expecting nothing less than the continual disinterest from the girl.

until aeri got to the end of the hall and said one last thing.

 “what time does the aquarium open friday?”

uchinaga aeri never thought she’d be standing in a crowded line in front of the osaka aquarium at 10 am  just to see a seal. 

an allegedly world-famous seal, at that.

“aren’t you excited?” y/n giggled as she looked around next to the japanese girl, eyes wide in admiration at the different people present to see her favorite animal. aeri grumbled under her breath, feeling slightly out of place amidst the enthusiastic crowd. "this is ridiculous," she muttered to herself, yet she sort of liked seeing y/n so giddy about this.

she glanced sideways at y/n, who was practically buzzing with enthusiasm. aeri's lips twitched into a small smirk, though she quickly attempted to suppress any sign of amusement.

"yeah, yeah, totally thrilled," aeri replied in a deadpan tone, trying to downplay her own budding interest. deep down, she found herself intrigued by the contagious excitement surrounding the allegedly world-famous seal.

the line shuffled forward gradually, and as they approached the entrance, aeri observed the wide array of people gathering for this unique experience. families, couples, and groups of friends eagerly chatted about the exhibits they were about to witness.

despite her initial reluctance, aeri felt a sense of anticipation building within her. she couldn't deny the growing curiosity about what made this seal so special.

y/n, noticing the cold girl’s subtle change in demeanor, nudged her playfully. "come on, admit it. you're kind of excited too, aren't you?"

the older girl shot y/n a sideways glance, trying to maintain her cool exterior despite the flutter in her stomach that came from locking eyes with the other girl. 

"don't get ahead of yourself. it's just a seal."

as they reached the front of the enclosure, the crowd's murmurs turned into excited whispers. aeri glanced around, noticing the anticipation reflected in the faces of the people around her.

but no one was as excited as y/n was. the sight of the younger girl’s eyes full of light made the japanese girl’s lips turn into the slightest curve of a smile for a few moments.

and then, there she was—yuki, the world-famous seal, effortlessly drawing the attention of everyone present.

y/n's eyes lit up as she pointed towards yuki, who was interacting with the visitors though the glass as she stared at each of them intently. 

"look, there's yuki!" she whispered in excitement, aeri found herself caught in a rare moment of vulnerability as she observed y/n's contagious excitement. the younger girl's genuine joy and enthusiasm were infectious, and despite aeri's attempts to resist, she couldn't help but be affected by it.

"yuki is pretty amazing," aeri murmured softly, almost to herself, as she watched the seal laying on her side, looking back at the visitors.

y/n's eyes gleamed with delight as she turned to aeri, a wide grin spreading across her face. "isn't she? i knew you'd like her!"

aeri hesitated for a moment, feeling an uncharacteristic surge of warmth in her chest. she glanced at y/n, her usual stoic demeanor softening slightly as she gazed at the younger girl's beaming smile.

in that moment, amidst the presence of a seal and the contagious excitement radiating from y/n, something shifted within aeri. 

"yeah...she's pretty cute," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze remained on the girl next to her. it was a small admission, one she never thought she'd make, but it felt strangely liberating.

she felt like she wanted to take y/n to see every single seal there was.

the rest of the aquarium tour was a blur for aeri, all she could focus on was how excited y/n got whenever there was a new species of fish displayed in the tank. the other girl looked on with wonder in her eyes, and aeri couldn’t help but feel like she wanted to do anything in her power to keep y/n smiling like that.

after some time observing the different animals, y/n needed to use the bathroom. while aeri waited for the other girl, she wandered off to purchase a plush of a little white seal, (she learned from the tag that it was called a harp seal) the pair ended up standing underneath the tunnel of stingrays. the ambient blue light dancing across their faces added an artistic touch to the serene atmosphere surrounding them.

"look at how they move, it's so beautiful," y/n whispered, her voice tinged with awe. aeri nodded silently, taking in the tranquil beauty of the scene but also stealing glances at the other girl, admiring the genuine joy on her face. 

without saying a word, she reached for y/n's hand, interlacing their fingers hesitantly, almost as if seeking reassurance for her own sudden vulnerability.

y/n's hand fit perfectly in hers, and the cold girl felt a gentle warmth slowly spread through her. there was a comfortable silence between them, a sense of understanding and connection that didn't need words to be felt.

as they stood there, surrounded by the mesmerizing underwater world, aeri's hand felt a gentle squeeze in return from the action.

“didn’t know seeing seals made you soft.” y/n teased lightly, looking up slightly at the older girl with a small smile. aeri simply rolled her eyes playfully, letting the other girl turn to walk off towards the next part of the aquarium.

but before they moved on from the tunnel, aeri pulled y/n closer to her, brushing a stray strand of hair away from the younger’s face. with a soft and gentle touch, she placed a tender kiss on her forehead, silently expressing the only thing she couldn’t say out loud.

"i'm still not a seal enthusiast," the raven haired girl muttered softly, her voice tinged with a hint of playfulness, trying to mask the depth of emotion in that simple gesture. "i'm only here for you."

“well, i'm glad you're here, even if it's just for me."a gentle smile graced y/n's lips, her eyes locking with the other girl’s before she pulled her hand along to keep walking. “but i’ll change your mind about the seals. we should go to new zealand and see the elephant seals!”

“whatever you want.”

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.  

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

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

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

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

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way.  She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

[letteredlettered]

Slow burn mutual pining

Slow burn pining fics are my favorite. Usually slow burn mutual pining (let's invent a new acronym: SBMP). The problem with SBMP is that it is so difficult to find a climax that satisfies me that I almost always end up not enjoying the fic after all. Like, it delivers but it doesn't satisfy.

Here are all the climaxes I hate, and keep in mind that this is about what I personally enjoy, not what I think is like, good writing or How You Should Do It or the paragon of excellence or anything. I am not telling anyone what they should be writing, and I am also not telling anyone what they should like reading. I simply like what I like and I hate what I dislike, so now you get to know because this is my blog and I do what I want, Thor.

Too short. These are the ones where A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" And then B is like "I've loved you for years!" And then they go have very loving sex or something. Listen. There has to be processing time; there needs to be that crying cat meme where the cat needs a minute; there needs to be wonder and disbelief and shock. There needs to be a numbness. And when B does finally 'fess up with their reciprocal angst or whatever it cannot just be "oh, ditto!"

Climax interruptus. Some authors know that the climax needs to be drawn out (to achieve my fic-reading satisfaction, which is obviously every writer's goal!) but can't figure out how to get there, so A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" and then the whole Bennett family falls into the room from where they've been listening at the door and there's a lot of dealing with Mrs. Bennett and Mary and Kitty or whoever, all while A is angsting about their confession and whether B loves them back, and B is waiting on tenterhooks just to tell them the feeling is reciprocated. Watch closely, folks, the worst perpetrators of this will do it several times. A says, "I love you!" Then is interrupted. Then finally gets a chance and is like, "I've loved you for years!" Then is interrupted. Then B finally gets their chance and is like "I have something to tell you too!" Then is interrupted. The worst, guys; this is the worst. (It happens with lots of big climaxes where the climax consists of confessions or supplying information or clearing up misunderstandings or Finding Something Out--mysteries do it All. The. Time.)

Moot climax. Subsection of the above that refers to an interruption being an entirely new plot. Basically, you get some kind of partial confession or revelation, but then something happens, but the something is so catastrophic or dramatic that the mains can’t possibly talk through it; they need to resolve this entirely new conflict first. And once that is resolved, the original conflict might even be a moot point, such that they no longer need to have feelings confessions because their feelings were revealed in an alternate way by the alternate plot. I had written this post a year ago and now I have returned and posted because I read one of these that made me so mad.

Trailing climax. Also subsection of climax interruptus. Trailing climax happens when there are several other confessions/revelations that are in fact related to the love confession/revelations. Ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m the masked bandit you had sex with,” AND “I’m your long lost childhood friend.” Sometimes it’s also just a series of things that really demand resolution, ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m afraid of sex but want to have it,” AND “you’re a bird and I’m a whale, so how can this work.” The thing about having multiple conflicts or required resolutions is that you can have several climaxes, but they still need to ascend to a jagged peak. What I often see in the “trailing climax” problem is that one resolution is reached and tension immediately plummets. The reader feels forced to continue reading to find out the resolutions to the other conflicts, but there is no longer the ramping tension up to a final conclusion; it’s more like we ended one story and now have to start a whole other one.

False trailing climax. This is a trailing climax in which the author portrays the other resolutions or confessions as very important, but they’re not, actually. We got the big, cathartic confession scene we needed and yet somehow the chapter still ends on a cliffhanger that makes you feel things suddenly aren’t resolved. This is often about sex. The author is portraying sex as the big climax yet to come when the actual climax was feelings.

Trailing climax narcolepsy. How many times have you read a climax where most things were kind of resolved but there are some loose ends and instead of dealing with them (or having sex) the characters suddenly decide they need to sleep? I always feel the author got tired of writing or fears long scenes and just needed to put a jump cut in because they otherwise didn’t know how to end the scene.

The climax that cried wolf. Okay here is what you get when someone takes my words about "disbelief" and "shock" and "numbness" too far. One of the biggest motivations for SBMP is either A or B or both going on with their constant, "oh, B could never love me!" and "oh, A doesn't even notice me; I'm so worthless . . ." Listen. Listen to me. I love that shit. I eat that shit with a spoon. I am so into it, you don't even know. But when A takes B by the shoulders and is like, "I love you! I've loved you for years!" it is A BRIDGE TOO FAR for B to just go ". . . they didn't mean it . . . they couldn't . . . how could they love me . . . it's not true . . ." After that, you've lost me, and some fics do that like eight times before getting to the part where B believes it. By then no matter how hot and intense and drawn-out you make the actual climax, it has lost all impact because it's happened 7 other times already (and I have already noped out of the fic unless I'm in that train wreck fugue state where I had to see how it ended).

Paint by numbers climax. Paint by numbers climaxes are satisfyingly long and, also satisfyingly, address every single issue and misunderstanding this couple ever had, and then after all of that--only after that--we paint the final numbers: kissing, then undressing, then sex. Let me count the ways I'm so desperately uninterested in this. First of all, the sex is not going to be interesting to me if there is no tension left in the thing. What do you think that I am in this mess for? If it was porn, I'd read a pwp, and if it was loving fluff, I certainly would not be reading SBPM!

But even worse than the boring sex is that, since the sex--and often even kissing--can only occur after all the confessions, it means the confessions are strangely . . . cerebral? Not physical. Sexless. Don't get me wrong. Please don't get me wrong. I love cerebral! I love not physical! I love sexless! Some of my very favorite fics that I have written, and also I will point out the one that is astronomically the most popular, is basically G rated! Fics don't have to have sex in them to be interested and I will beat that drum until my hands fall off!

But. But.

If your SBMP is about sexual tension; if it is about A constantly dreaming of nothing but having B's dick in them and constantly fapping away to thoughts of it or whatever, why would you exclude sex from the climax and only add it in the denoument? I ask you. And if sex wasn't part of the tension; if the sexual aspects were actually not what the pining was about, why do you have sex at all? Why not end with a kiss?

*

There you have it, decades' worth of frustration all in one post, folks.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Butterscotch Harlow

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, 2forwoyne, taylorrooks, blancahood, and 1,283,052 others

y/ninsta: A little while ago, I surprised smush with a puppy (even though he said no more pets). the two have finally warmed up to each other and all she does is terrorize him lmao

jackharlow: I like how you find my pain humorous smh urbanwyatt: I still can't believe yall literally have fourteen pets now lilnasx: urbanwyatt you mean fifteen, they have druski2funny druski2funny: what the actual fuck do yall be on for me to constantly get dragged like this?!?!? 2forwoyne: yall might as well open up your home and sell tickets because yall live in a damn zoo y/ninsta: all yall can kiss my ass because who is over here every damn week trying to get fed? not too much on my babies. blancahood: you have 3 real babies, pay them some attention y/ninsta: B, I have 5 children. how quickly you forget. jackharlow: who the hell is four and five?!?!? dualipa: jackharlow you and Urban urbanwyatt: NOW WHY AM I ALWAYS IN IT?! y/ninsta: dualipa you a real one for that softtcurse: urbanwyatt because your ass is always doing something smh jackharlow: dualipa and now here you come terrorizing me too smh dualipa: jackharlow I was nice about it but I can be mean. watch that tone. jackharlow: dualipa you better not start with me. I swear yall want me bald by 30. jackandy/naremyparents: I'm convinced that soon y/ninsta will find a way to buy an elephant. mark my words. urbandjack26: jackandy/naremyparents she probably already has one and just keeps it at the actual zoo in Louisville jackharlow: DO NOT GIVE HER ANY IDEAS y/ninsta: 👀👀👀 jackharlow: y/ninsta baby don't you dare y/ninsta: jackharlow BRB

Liked by y/ninsta, druski2funny, claybornharlow, urbanwyatt, maggieharlow, quiiso, jessicakelce, and 1,943,271 others

jackharlow: your shirt says mother so please come and get this puppy. I have not known peace since you bought her 😭

urbanwyatt: jackharlow let's be real for a second. you haven't known peace since you got married to y/ninsta taylorrooks: URBAN! TAKE IT BACK BEFORE SHE SEES IT! 2forwoyne: urbanwyatt not your wanting best friend to kick your ass jackharlow: urbanwyatt you just asking to die tonight aren't you? y/ninsta: I heard I've been summoned and urbanwyatt don't go to sleep tonight urbanwyatt: y/ninsta not my fault you terrorize my best friend! y/ninsta: urbanwyatt is this about me forgetting to make you spaghetti the other day? because right now your ass is acting outta pocket. don't let that mouth of yours get you hair cut off and weed stolen theestallion: Y/N PLEASEEEEEEE blancahood: y/ninsta if you steal it, save me some yungskylark: why when it's taco tuesday, someone in PG acts like they don't have no got damn sense smh shloob_: urbanwyatt my stomach is making whale mating calls. you better fix this shit so she feeds us. urbanwyatt: I SAID WHAT I SAID y/ninsta: urby, you asked for it smh jackharlow: like not too much on my baby now but urb actually claimed me as his best friend for once so I call this day a win y/ninsta: look at my pookie defending me and you were always the first best friend, he just loves me more jackharlow: 🙄🙄🙄

yungskylark: he need to defend my stomach from biting the rest of my insides quiiso: jackharlow IT'S NOT NO WIN WHEN WE'RE HUNGRY, TF? jackharlow: quiiso oh imma eat regardless. idc what happens to yall lmaoooo saweetie: jackharlow just nasty as hell as usual jackharlow: saweetie HAVE YOU SEEN MY WIFE?!?! saweetie: jackharlow for the billionth time, YES! jackharlow: saweetie just making sure lol

Liked by y/ninsta, saweetie, urbanwyatt, theestallion, privategarden, theshaderoom, neelamthadhani, and 3,281,937 others

jackharlow: you see what she does in my time of need? LEAVES ME 😭

But my wife a baddie 😍😍

y/ninsta: jackharlow you are so damn dramatic! I'm only going to be gone for two days! but love you smush. claybornharlow: oh, so the babies have to eat jack's cooking? maggieharlow come save your grandchildren! jackharlow: HEY! THEY'RE FINE! dualipa: I highly doubt that jackharlow: dualipa hop off the nearest cliff y/ninsta: I pumped enough and there's more in the freezer, along with formula and the baby food I made. they're good! jackharlow: umm y/ninsta...... I think I only have enough for a few more hours y/ninsta: WHAT blancahood: oh good lord smh jackharlow: y/ninsta axel is eating like he has never seen food in his entire life maggieharlow: smh jackharlow if you needed me, why didn't you call? jackharlow: maggieharlow I got it handled! claybornharlow: only thing jackharlow has a handle on is.... hmm.... I'm at a loss saweetie: clay, pleaseeeee lmao urbandjack26: chaos in the Harlow household lol neelamthadhani: and jackharlow has the nerve to want more children smh handle those three first! y/ninsta: jackharlow is a good daddy! but his way of doing things concerns me sometimes jackharlow: y/ninsta I know I'm a good daddy. to my triplets and my wife. y/ninsta: jackharlow I'm taking my compliment back smh

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, saweetie, estgee, champagnepapi, zackbia, taylorrooks, and 1,928,036 others

y/ninsta: pleading for my damn help, and once I get home, this is what I see 🙄🙄

jackharlow: and that was the first decent amount of sleep that I got since you left y/ninsta: jackharlow I see little miss kept guard while you slept. I told you she loves you. jackandy/naremyparents: are yall gonna tell us her name now?!?!? jackharlow: jackandy/naremyparents I want to protect her privacy urbanwyatt: this man has officially lost it lmao saweetie: privacy? she literally pees and shits outside for the world to see jackharlow: not too much on my baby now! she still deserves privacy! claybornharlow: jack, she's a dog jackharlow: claybornharlow and? she's MY dog and what I say goes blancahood: that man don't know how to act now that he has his own pet quiiso: y/ninsta please get your husband lmao y/ninsta: quiiso he's a lost cause. I tried to come close to him while she was next to him and long story short, she is very territorial of him. she likes me, but he's her go to person. like sis, I was here first. show your mom some respect lmao urbanwyatt: not y/n finally having to compete for jack's heart y/ninsta: urbanwyatt he lowkey might divorce me to be able to have all of his attention on her jackharlow: I AM NOT THAT BAD neelamthadhani: jackharlow who lied to you? smh y/ninsta: jackharlow just tell everyone her name! jackharlow: y/ninsta no. that's her business and no one else's. jackandy/naremyparents: she probably doesn't even have one jackharlow: YES SHE DOES! If yall can guess it, I'll tell you saweetie: wait, what did yall end up deciding because it was down to two names urbandjack26: probably named her alcatraz y/ninsta: urbandjack26 over my dead body lmao allthingsy/n: hmm..... Louisville related? y/ninsta: allthingsy/n no for once lol jackandurbupdates: toffee y/ninsta: getting warmer jackandy/naremyparents: caramel? y/ninsta: getting closer! jackharlow: yall get on my nerves jackandurb26: BUTTERSCOTCH! BUTTERSCOTCH HARLOW! jackharlow: 😒😒😒😒😒 jackandurb26: well?!?!? jackharlow: I'm logging out y/ninsta: 😭😭😭😭

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

Gods and Monsters is a 1998 film directed by Bill Condon, written by Bill Condon and Christopher Bram, and starring Ian McKellen and Brendan Fraser. The movie is a fictionalized narrative inspired by the life and death of James Whale, the real-life queer director behind 1931's Frankenstein and 1935's Bride of Frankenstein. It's based on the novel Father of Frankenstein by Christopher Bram.

The story has fictionalized elements, so if you're interested in the true history of James Whale, you'll have to do some extra research. Still, I enjoyed the movie. It's a story of an elderly gay man living in his own shadow, trying to find someone to connect with while the world moves on without him.

It's not a happy movie, but it fucked me up in a good, haunting sort of way. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to have a good cry about queer history and our elders, as well as to anyone who's into Frankenstein or queer media history. Clive Barker was the film's executive producer, and there's a great behind-the-scenes documentary on the DVD where he and other crew members talk about queer history, media, and art.

The movie has a gut-punch ending and carries a few big trigger warnings, with the biggest being suicide by drowning, so be sure to check its Does the Dog Die page before watching. This isn't a "feel good" sort of movie, but I've always thought we need space for stories about queer pain, too.

Here's the trailer:

Ask For a Rec | Other Media Recommendations | Support Links

[velvet-paradox]

Stay (ch. 2)

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Viking!König x Female reader Length: Medium

Meeting some of the KorTac clan - Aiding The Collector - A wrong to make it right

The first night with the KorTac clan was humiliating.

After all the ogling and rude remarks as you were dragged through the street wasn't enough, you were made to sit at The Collectors' feet, while he feasted on meat, bread and ale. You were fed scraps.

As you ate greedily after the whole ordeal, the women of the tribe took pity on you, whisking you away to be scrubbed clean, shedding you of your clothes, given a new dress at least in a complimentary color as you ate and took in your new surroundings. Music was played in their great hall.

Another burly man came to König on the throne, talked about as if you weren't really there. Some toy, some play thing, some pet. You tore off a piece of bread with your teeth in earnest.

"Found a wife, did you König?"

"Hardly."

"How positively sad then, maybe she'll make someone else an honest man."

"Doubt it. No one is to touch her but me, understood?"

You'd later find out that his name was Soap.

He'd be the one to lead you out and around the dining hall, a firm grip on the back of your arm (granted permission by The Collector of course)that left little to the imagination that if you were foolish, he'd put you in the ground without a blink of an eye. He didn't even speak to you.

The room was lit with torches at each of its' four corners, shadows danced and swayed when Soap had opened the door, there was a decently made bed against the wall, draped in furs and blankets of turquoise and deep reds.

" 'at door there, only opens from one side. His side." Soap finally spoke, leaning against the doorframe, leisurely looking you up and down uncomfortably as you examined the room. "I don't know what he plans to do with ye' but it ain't gonna' be pretty or nice. Best stay on his good side, lass. You surely don't want to end up like the last one."

And without another word, he shut and locked the door behind him. You sat on the bed and waited for the unknown future.

….

Some days you didn't even see König. Left alone in that room, thankfully inot a smelly cell below ground, left and forgotten about until you were nothing but bones. You made use of those quiet days, you'd found some hay stashed in a trunk and made yourself a broom.

You were given some sort of flat type of shoe that just didn't feel right. You were already wearing foreign clothes, now shoes too?

This was only meant to be a temporary stay and yet the KorTac clan had been treating you well.

As if you'd never see your parents again.

Your parents. Another night of crying yourself to sleep over them was looked promising. And that meant another curious look from one of the women or König, if he decided to collect you.

The next morning the door, from his side, unlocked and eased open with the toe of his boot. He stood at attention once he ducked inside. He took up the entire doorframe.

"We are going out," he stated and threw you your clothes, freshly laundered and stiff. Followed by your boots. "You'll need to be ready for what we are going to do today."

"What are we doing?"

"Not asking questions is one." König remarked, remaining still. Like a statue.

He only turned around when you pulled at the strings of your dress, only looking over his shoulder when you had finished. He watched you put on your boots, you barely had time to fix your hair when he lunged forward and grabbed your wrist. He bound you with that same cordage, leashing you to him.

Soap got a real laugh out of that.

….

Kim 'Horangi' Hong-Jin greeted you and The Collector with warm regards. This guy at least acknowledged you. He had greeted you at the gates of his village, the exposed and bleached bone of a whale welcomed you in. You'd never seen anything like it. It was the ribcage, perfectly displayed like a canopy.

König dropped his hand to your shoulder, keeping you close as you moved from house to house while Horangi watched on, munching on a juicy apple.

The Collector gave his signature knock, one you knew well, but from the outside, watching the behemoth use his forearm instead was something else entirely.

You were now an accomplice, aiding the boogeyman in his rounds. The sack Soap had tossed at you when you left the village was getting gaining weight. The coins clinking together as you two went door to door, these people were absoutely terrified and with good reason.

He was even scary in his sleep!

What sort of dreams did a man like that have anyway?

König thanked Horangi with a personal handshake and headbutt. "You're better than a pack mule." König snorted, chuckling to himself as you two moved on to the next town.

More money, more scared and frightened faces. Children hid, in the last town even the chickens held their clucking when you passed by. A village that reminded you of home made you wince when The Collector grabbed a young man up until his feet dangled and shook him like a cloth doll.

He was vicious and violent and cruel.

Ruthless.

A dangerous individual.

Dinner that evening was just the same as it had been. You'd been gifted a pillow to sit on, yet you still ate at his feet and no longer were tossed scraps but you got a whole plate to yourself. Day eight and not a word from your father, no carrier was sent out to the KorTac clan in your favor.

You started to dissolve your thinking that maybe these people knew more than they were letting on. Maybe there was word from your parents. Maybe they chose not to tell you! Being isolated for so long was weighing down your shoulders like a soggy blanket.

"Oh, sorry pet, didn't see you down there." Another head covered man bumped into you on his hot pursuit to speak with König, his right hand man, covered in wolf pelts and broad.

That's what they called you. Your name was erased. Just pet.

He was the one to find you crying in the hallway just outside your forsaken room after dinner. Again, bumping into you. For the KorTac clan to wear face coverings, one might think their eyesight might be somewhat enhanced.

Kruger bent down on one knee, dared touch your face to make you look at him.

"Why do you cry so much?"

"What?" You sniffled and he still held your face. Maybe he has a death wish, you thought.

"You're always crying."

"That's because I am punished here!" You shout and push away from him and the wall. "Wouldn't you be? König dragged me from my home because he up and decided he wanted to change course of payment days. Without fair notice and now I'm locked here with you people. I don't even know if I'll ever see my parents again!"

With that said, you burst into even more tears. Covering your face with your hands was worse, it just made you hotter and more upset that there was absolutely no one here who would, want or could console you.

"Do you feel like a prisoner, pet?"

"I am one! I don't want to be here anymore."

"Kruger!" König's booming voice seemed to flutter around the entire hall, his boots sounded deafening. "You had better not be the one to bring my pet to tears! I will have you throat."

Kruger straightened up quickly and backed away, adjusting his head covering and the wolf fur that hangs off his shoulders. Not like The Collectors cloak, its as deep and lush as the forest that surrounds the village.

He looks down at you wiping your face, trying to catch your breath.

Your chin jitters.

"No, sir."

"Leave us." Is all he says and you turn to take your leave into your room but are stopped, König's hand is on your wrist in an almost intimate manner. Which is shocking and somehow even more terrifying. "Not you."

Kruger left you in the hallway, made sure he was gone and out of sight before entering your chamber. The gust of wind from him opening the door made your bedroom torches crackle and sputter about as he dragged you behind him. He'd only stood in your adjacent doorway, so to see him and have him here in you, in the room you've been tidying to your liking until your father can pay out was - strange.

"Sit."

You sniffled and did as was asked. Still too afraid to ask what happened to the last ransom captive. You obeyed without question. You wrung your hands together as you watched the big man pace.

"They can't keep seeing you crying, you know? Their going to start thinking I'm breaking you apart every night."

"You might as well at this point. Am I ever going home?"

"That's up to your parents, not me." König said with a scoff, as if this wasn't he whole ensemble, he orchestrated this madness to begin with! He's the one that switched up payday to begin with, this was his fault, his doing and the more you sat there and how could König be so passive about it? Too much. It was all too much!

Without warning you sprung up and shoved him, he didn't move much but he looked down at you with narrowed eyes.

"This is your fault!" You pushed him again and for some reason, or maybe you imagined it, he did move this time. "This is all your fault! You did this to me."

"I did it for your own good!"

"That doesn't even make any sense, none of this makes sense. I'm stuck in limbo," you shouted and shoved at him once more, he allowed you, actually allowed you to move him back towards the wall. "I'm stuck in this room! I'm stuck with your clan a-and for what? A failed payment, on a day that you chose!"

König sighed.

"Is this some sick joke? I've been here for a month now, no word from my father, no word from my mother… have you? Have you had word from them, Collector?"

"I have."

Your lashes clumped together, eyes welling up when he crossed his arms and looked away to one of the torches. "You… you have? When? Why didn't you notify me, I'm losing my mind in here."

"Last week."

"What? What do you mean last week? I was here, I've been here! I did not see him."

"No, pet you wouldn't would you? Do remember when I asked Soap to take you to Keeva the seamstress for some mending?"

You were the on to pace now. Of course you remember, it was the first time you were allowed out of his sight and untethered to another person. Keeva was the sweetest one out of the entirety of the KorTac clan. She was round and full, waddling down the muddy lane with you in tow, both of you carrying clothes from the great hall.

"…yes."

"He came the village, alone. You were right," König shrugged and shook his head. "Times are a little tough for your family, they can barely feed themselves. Your father only had half of what is due anyhow."

"Then… how long did he say? An estimate, even."

"No idea. But he did offer me something far more than its' worth."

You shivered. The hairs on the back on your arms prickled.

König then pulled out a familiar bracelet. It was passed down to your mother from her mother and so on. It was to be treasured, worn with grace and beauty. Carrying on. But now, in all its' emerald glory, still pretty as ever, it looked dirty in his palm.

He held it out to you.

"Why do you have that?" Your voice cracking and watery. Your throat threatening to close in on itself like a dune of sand. Blood pounded in your ears.

The Collector cocked his head and once again urged you to take the jewelry.

"Your father gave it to me," his hold on your wrist was tight, but not forceful. Careful, would be the closest thing you could think of when he slipped it on for you. "To give to you."

"W-why?"

"He can't pay me in gold or coin." The Collectors voice deepened and you've never felt smaller than what came out of his treacherous mouth.

No no nonopleaasenopleasenono…

"What he can pay me in is this. And you."

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard - Chapter 2: Seen

cw: dark themes, dubcon/noncon, *read at your own discretion*

word count: 2.7k

[<<< chapter 1]

The weeks had been exhausting, to say the least.

You were used to being pulled in a hundred directions everyday, used to being the face for the kingdom, put on show like a prize horse in your fanciest dresses and most dazzling jewels.

But, all you could think when you see your reflection is how heavy they feel; the faceted rubies and diamonds are just pretty chains to you, the uncomfortable whale-bone corset around your waist is a cage, the pounds and pounds of bright velvet and silks weigh you down, making your urge to flee a vain one.

I would never get far.. Though, if I jumped into the pond, I doubt they would ever be able to lift me out in time- would they say it was a tragic accident?

“My Queen.”

The brassy voice startles you from your own thoughts, your eyes meeting warm copper in the mirror image. They aren’t concerned, not really; if anything, you think you see the faintest hint of frustration in his shadowed expression,

“The King waits..”

Oh, right. You were still sat at your vanity, the boar-bristle brush still clutched between your fingers, your long waves hanging freely over your shoulder and back, body only covered in a flowing, white nightgown. And very suddenly, you’re too aware of just how exposed you are in your guard’s presence, too aware of how warm his gaze feels lingering on your skin before he looks away just as quickly.

“Thank you, Ser Simon..” You let your head fall forward, your hair covering the bloom of red that’s settled over your cheeks.

He’s been an attentive guard in his short tenure with you, and at times, you’ve found it quite eerie, the silent way he moves, the way his eyes track everything around you, how his mind and his senses could possibly be so intensely focused on everything all at once.

But, what unsettles you the most is how seen you feel.

The knight has this uncanny ability to read you, as if he were fluent in your body language, in every tiny expression that might possibly flash across your features at any given time. Such as when he sees the way your eyelids settle low over your eyes when you’ve grown weary of a particular conversation, or the way you clench and unclench your fingers when you become restless, the way your jaw flexes when you’re angry-

He’s quickly picked up on every little thing, and you’re still not sure if your find it annoying or are grateful for it,

“Elia?” You call for the young handmaid, her slight figure approaching quickly as Simon’s retreats, “If you’ll just set out my things, you’re free to enjoy the rest of your night.”

After your nights with the King, you preferred the comfort of solitude, preferred to take care of yourself afterward. And by now, it is just as much a part of this primal ritual as the act itself, and the more distant part of you almost looked forward to it- to the after- when you get to be alone.

Because you so rarely ever get to be thoroughly alone..

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

She goes about setting out the small basket of certain items you usually need to get through these nights, a vile of purified olive oil, fresh aloe vera and witch hazel for the times your King might have had a rough day beforehand- clean cloths, et cetera-

“Thank you.” You nod at Elia, giving her a soft smile before looking toward your guard to give him the same gesture; you were as ready as you could be, no sense in putting it off any longer.

As soon as your chambers door is pulled open, His Majesty himself sweeps in- and you just know he’s in a mood-

“Husband.. You look well.”

You notice the door hasn’t closed yet, looking beyond your husband’s slightly smaller frame to see Simon looking back at you- and you realize this is the first time he has been present for these nights, and the look in his eye is full of something..

He can’t possibly look angry, can he? No.. that’s absurd-

You give a small nod, watching how he regards you for a moment longer before returning the movement and closing the doors behind him.

Looking back at your King, it’s all too easy to forget that he’s a handsome man, with his sweeping dark hair and lean muscular build; but there’s something about the ice in his blue eyes that has always made you feel cold in his presence. Even when he steps closer, wide palms resting on your cheek and hip, you don’t really feel the heat of his touch, your body knows what’s coming, but, even so, it fails to find arousal.

“Ah, my pet.. beautiful as ever.”

You’re not sure ‘hate’ is the right word to describe his little name for you, because it doesn’t feel endearing or sweet in the slightest, the way he says it is demeaning and possessive. Like he wants to reiterate and reaffirm that you really are nothing more than bitch in heat for him- but that’s fine, you don’t really think you could handle it if he actually wanted to spend more time with you.

These few times themselves were hard enough to get through; and in the years since the first time he bedded you, you’ve been studious in learning how to work him up to get it over with sooner, rather than later-

“My King..” You drawl, reaching for the leather ties on his trousers, “How I’ve missed you.”

He pushes you down to your knees slowly, eyes never leaving your face, “Hmm.. What have you missed, sweet pet?”

His length falls into your hand easily, already fattening with need, and you’ve never seen anyone other than him like this, so you suppose he’s large- he fits in your palm nicely, your fingers wrapping around his shaft,

“This, my love..”

You look up at him with wide eyes, and watch his head roll back the moment the soft flesh of his tip slides through your lips-

This is how it always starts, and for all you know, this is really all there is to it. Because once you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and his grip on your hair tightens painfully, you know it will be over soon.

Thank the fucking gods above.

Tugging you up and over toward the sprawling bed, he turns you, watching as you settle on your knees before him, the nightgown falling up your torso, ass in the air, just as he prefers.

Your back arches for his touch, and you bite into your bottom lip as he pushes into your heat- it’s tight and uncomfortable, but that never stops him, he simply leans down to grab the glass of oil before continuing at a brutal pace.

There are no noises made other than the lewd, rhythmic smack of skin against skin, and you’re not sure if it’s seconds or minutes before his breaths grow heavy, his grip becoming a bruising hold on your hips until he slams into you one final time- the familiar, slightly nauseating, warmth pulsing deep in your core as he fills you yet again.

And is it horrible that you now truly hope it takes?

Not because you want to give the wretched man a child, an heir, or that you want to see your belly grow distended and your tits swell into nothing more than a cow’s udder for his helpless babe; but because if it takes, that means you’ll be free of your wifely duties to him for a blissful nine months-

His hand comes down harshly on your bare buttcheek, the sharp pain causing you to gasp out a pitiful sound, followed by a nasally chuckle as he pulls out of your channel without ceremony- surely enjoying the way his spend dribbles down between your thighs as he does,

“How do you like your new guard? Quite the interesting choice you made.”

Yanking at your garments, you stand along with him, not bothering to meet his eyes as you speak,

“He’s fit in well. A proper shadow, as he should be, no?”

There’s a noncommittal sort of grunt made, the sound of leather straining as he ties the straps at his waist before stepping closer.

And what he does next, you really don’t know if he does it because he feels something, no, certainly not- or if he does it because he thinks it’s what you want, which you do not- but he leans down to take your lips. It’s always a harsh and clashing kiss, over just as quickly as the rest of it,

“He’s a protective shadow, isn’t he?”

A flare of anger courses through you at the sly and prodding comment, and it takes more than a deep breath to settle the surge of violence that burns through your gut.

But, your mouth has always seemed to move faster than your brain, unfortunately,

“Well that’s his job, isn’t it?” You shoot back, fingers tangled in your own hair as you twist it into a loose braid, “Pray tell, are you planning to kill this one, too, husband? A warning would be-”

Before you can properly react, a hot, searing pain explodes across your cheek- the force of his back handed slap rattles through your head, and a small whimper is all you give him before biting your tongue and casting your eyes down to the floor.

“You’d do well to mind that smart mouth of yours, wife. Maybe you should be focused on providing my kingdom an heir instead of your witty remarks..” His voice drops into a mocking tone as you flinch away from his touch, “You’ll do that for me, won’t you, pet?”

There’s a crack in the floor that consumes all your attention, but you still nod sweetly, “Of course, Sire.”

Too-wet lips push against your hairline, his palm settled at the nape of your neck, “Good girl..”

Praise has never felt so degrading than when it comes from him. It makes you want to crawl into yourself, hide away from the world-

Fuck, how did you ever get here. How could this possibly be your life? You remember the stories told to you as a little girl, practically memorized them- and this, these horrors were never written into your tales.

Or, perhaps, they were just conveniently left out..

Because you were so sure then, so sure if there was true love in this world, that if anyone would find it, it must be you, right? You had been betrothed to the King since you were just a babe, a perfect little girl born to unite your kingdoms in peace and prosperity-

Ha.. and look at you, now. Poor little Queen.. how foolish I was-

“Your Grace.”

Damn it…

You look towards the door, seeing the black clad figure blocking out nearly the entire width; and it’s only when he sees your face head on, that his body flinches forward- eyes widening behind the sharp angles of his helm.

Clearing your throat, you turn away from him, waving your hand, “I’m tired. And I’m sure your relief will be here soon, just go, Ser. I relieve you in his stead.”

“You’re bleedin’..”

His voice holds none of the usual harshness this time, and it’s like his words turn on the part of your brain that registers pain- hissing when your fingers graze over the deep split at the corner of your mouth.

There’s crimson on the very tip of your finger when you pull away, and the color seems too bright, too foreign in your eyes; the King had never struck you before, yet he managed to draw blood the very first time.

Was I really so weak, and simply never knew it?

A piece of cloth replaces where your fingers had been, and your next breath catches in the back of your throat from the unexpected contact, the surprising gentility in his touch. He’s close now, closer than he’s ever dared come- and you know you should be disgusted at his blatant lack of decorum, you should reprimand him and command him to leave; but, you don’t.

Instead, your eyes travel slowly, up and up the breadth of his armored chest and neck, until finally, you meet his eyes. They’re steady on your lips at first, but like every time before, they find yours quickly- his gaze just as intense as ever.

Gods, has he moved closer?

He’s close enough you can smell him now, his rich scent overwhelming you with each warm breath he exhales and you inhale. He smells like vetiver and steel, warm and cold, like the first frost of winter, and the first cup of spiced wine in the fall-

“Shall I call for your handmaid, My Queen?”

My Queen.. My Queen- it plays over and over in my head, always and only ever in his honeyed voice.. I hate it- no, I don’t.. but shouldn’t I?

It’s just.. He does not say it like the others- he doesn’t say it just out of respect and title, no- gods, it’s like he’s praying when he speaks those two measly words. There is devoutness in his tone and reverie in his gaze- But, that can’t be right. You are just upset right now, reeling from the night, from the week prior, and the weeks before that.

You’re simply imagining these things, giving importance where none is due. You just need to rest-

Tired, yes. That’s all.

“No..” You don’t mean to whisper, but his proximity steals your voice, “I’m fine.. Please- Go.”

Your neck is still craned looking up at him, your lips parted as you struggle to control your breaths, and maybe it’s the stupidest thing you could do, but you find yourself unable to stop. You let your fingers wrap over his gauntlet, not really pulling him away, but hoping he does it on his own- because you don’t think you could, you don’t think you really want to.

“Please..” You beg again, even quieter than before.

Simon gives a small sigh, his head tilting, eyes searching your face again- though, for what, you can’t be sure. But, after a slow blink, he takes one step back, then another, until he’s at your chamber’s door- and you’re forced to realize how painfully cold you feel in his absence.

“Sleep well, My Queen.”

Your knees buckle before the latch is even properly closed, the stone floor unforgiving as you all but collapse into yourself- trying so hard to be quiet, because you’re the Queen, and Queens do not sob, Queens do not let priceless rugs soak up their tears, or wish to drown in them, all the same.

The Queen should be grateful, should be proud of her station, of the gift bestowed upon her by her fortunate bloodlines.

Queens are strong, or they’re supposed to be. And you think you were strong once.. when the world still appeared beautiful and rosy in tint, when the promise of all the things that could be were still so bright and full of wonder.

You don’t consider yourself strong anymore. You feel like a ship without sails, listing dangerously in the stormy waters, entirely at the mercy of the sea. Waiting, just waiting for that one perfect rogue wave to capsize you, to wash you away into the nothingness-

But, truthfully, and it’s a truth you’ll never speak aloud, a truth that sits with you, hangs over you- you really don’t know how much longer you can stand to keep playing this charade of a life.

Not when the dark waters look so appetizing, so peaceful.

She doesn't know that her guard stays just beyond the thick wood, that he listens to her quiet sobs until he’s sure that she’s managed to cry herself to sleep.

It’s a haunting sound to him, for reasons he can’t explain or understand.

Because Simon Riley is not a good man, he is merciless and unkind, a woman weeping has surely never stopped him before- yet, with The Queen, the anguish and desperation in her cries claw at him, they dig themselves into his muscle and marrow.

He only ever wanted this position because he was truly tired, utterly weary and exhausted to his core-

But, His Queen.. she changed everything.

a/n: thank you for being here!

[Chapter 3 >>>]

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part six

Masterlist

Summary: Ao'nung and Y/n settle into a new relationship while a father/daughter bond needs mending. Y/n decides it's finally time to visit the Spirit Tree again.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, time skips, HEAVY angst, depression, older sibling syndrome, mentions of death, canon compliance, father/daughter trouble, fluff, etc.

posted on ao3

Word Count: 5k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: Sänrr Rong - Glow Tunnel, tulkun - whale like animal, akula - shark like animal, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, tsurak - skimwing, kurkung - asshole, taronyu - hunter, marui - house/pod, ilu - plesiosaur like animal, olo'eyktan - clan leader, kuru/tswin - queue braid, tsmukan - brother, Ranteng Utralti - Metkayina Spirit Tree, tsmuke - sister, nantang - dog like animal

Taglist (bold indicates “could not tag”):  @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n @iloveavatar @urdads-gf  @kentfisherswifee6 @sakurayuki8655-blog @ken-zah @nilrilie @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @iovemoonyy @sopluto @frvv

A/N: Thank you so much for 700 followers!

Despite not telling anyone what had happened at Sänrr Rong, everyone noticed the significant change in Y/n's attitude and everyone knew that whatever changed her tune happened at that tunnel. 

It has been over a month since she kissed Ao'nung and she's almost back to the way she was before the tragedy of her twin brother's death. She was flying more than usual without feeling the need to watch her siblings like a hawk, and sometimes her siblings would join her on these flights. She would play more often than watch over the other kids doing so and she would smile more than she had in a very long time. The more she talked, the more her voice was rid of the rough sound of sandpaper, eventually returning to normal. That's not to say she had completely healed from her loss. Y/n's smiles were still small and sometimes sad, but they were less forced and more genuine. There would be a day or two when she needed to be alone again with her thoughts, but those days were starting to be far or few between. 

And of course, she wasn't the only one slowly but surely healing. Her family was as well, although there was still some obvious tension between Y/n and her father, unspoken words still bubbling underneath the surface. Y/n had said everything she had ever wanted to say to her father that fateful day, but Jake couldn't afford to say his piece. Sometimes that man was too emotionally constipated and unfortunately, recent events have shown just how damaging that is to his children, especially Y/n and Lo'ak. To keep each other from thinking about it, the sister and brother would spend whole days together and entertaining the others. Lo'ak took all the kids to see Payakan many times over the months after losing Neteyam, and it was safe to say tulkun riding was a great success and a therapeutic activity for everyone involved. Much like how they spent time away in Sänrr Rong, the kids now spend their free afternoons with Payakan after finishing up any chores they had in the morning. Of course, the teens still like cliff diving, but they have been wanting to keep Tuk and her little friends included more often than not nowadays, so they have stuck to activities the younger ones can participate in, such as fin-gliding with Payakan.

However, the Archwas never left abandoned. Y/n would go there every time she needed to be left alone and recharge. Her family respected the fact that there were gonna be days when she needed to go back to missing her twin and promised to leave her to her thoughts... just as long as she always came back to them. 

She hated lying to them sometimes. Yes, she'd escape to Sänrr Rong some days to be alone, but sometimes she needed an excuse to sneak away. She wished she didn't use Neteyam as an excuse, but internally, she knew her twin would laugh his ass off if he knew why.

While impatiently waiting on one of those days, she sat on the edge of the cliff and let her legs gently swing in the air, deep in thought. Y/n was watching the clouds until a pair of large hands covered her vision and a voice close enough to feel their breath in her hair called out behind her, "Guess who."

She grins knowingly, "Rotxo? Is that you?"

A laugh is pulled from her lungs when Ao'nung pulls his hands away from her face and instead grabs at her waist, pulling her away from the ledge while ruthlessly poking and prodding at her ribcage. Y/n squeals with uncontrollable laughter, trying to curl up and protect herself while Ao'nung playfully growls at her, "Take that back, Forest Girl."

He tightens his arms around her for a brief squeeze and relents after she makes a half-assed apology between gasps of laughter. Keeping her in his arms, Ao'nung gets comfortable, sitting down in the grass as the high winds rustle the vegetation around them. Y/n's laughter died down eventually, flinching occasionally if Ao'nung's fingers touched a ticklish spot, now high-strung and giggling under her breath. She tilts her head to peer over her shoulder and finally gets a good look at him, "Ah, Seaweed Brain. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"Keep it up," he jibes back, "And I will toss you over the edge." 

She makes an amused sound at the back of her throat but otherwise says nothing. They sit that way for a while, warmed by their shared body heat as the wind brushes through their hair, tangled legs gently swinging over the cliffside. Ao'nung breaks the moment of peace by rummaging in a small pouch he had tied to his belt that morning, "I got you something."

"What is it?" Y/n leans her head back to rest against his shoulder as he lifts his hand out to hers, presenting a small object resting in his giant palm. It was obviously an arrowhead, but the material looked different than what a traditional arrow was made of. Once Y/n had the object in her hand, she ran her thumb over it and recognized it to be made out of an akula tooth, causing her lips to turn up into an excited smile, "It's beautiful."

"It looks fragile but I promise that it is strong. You'll be able to use it for your arrows. I can show you where to gather more of them."

In the meantime, in order to keep it safe, she fashioned the arrow into the necklace she wore, feeling the object rest comfortably against her collar. She turned her head enough to look back at Ao'nung and smiled, her hand reaching behind and resting against the back of the reef boy's neck, "Thank you."

He grinned obnoxiously back, overdramatically enunciating his words as if he were reciting an ancient prophecy, "May your arrows always fly true~"

"You are ridiculous." Y/n rolled her eyes with a scoff, despite the smile still gracing her lips. They leaned back into a comfortable silence, looking out over the vast ocean before she spoke up once more, "You're one season away from completing your Iknimaya. Are you excited?"

"Aren't you? My father mentioned that you have been hunting more. You might be able to finish the trials with the rest of us instead of waiting. Rotxo was upset that you managed to catch more fish than him last week," Ao'nung laughed when Y/n proudly beamed and winked at him in response, "I would not be surprised if you finished the trials before him."

"Even if I did, I don't have my own tulkun. Lo'ak would be able to finish the Iknimaya since he has Payakan, but without a tulkun, I wouldn't be able to fully become Metkayina."

"But you can still do the other trials. You can still tame a tsurak. I know you can."

"I know, it's just... it wouldn't be the same."

Her voice lowered, trailing off as she got lost in thought. Ao'nung knew that this particular tone in her voice meant several meanings. Without saying it, Y/n confessed that it wouldn't be the same as flying with Evi, or the same as sharing these achievements with her twin. She didn't have to specify for Ao'nung, he already knew what she meant.

Instead of asking her to be specific, Ao'nung tightened his hold around her, holding her like he wished he was brave enough to do a few months ago, "I know."

She gladly takes his comfort, sighing in defeat, "And besides, I wouldn't put it past my father to be stubborn and refuse my place in the trials."

"Why? I thought that's what your father wanted you to do?"

"It was. But lately, we haven't been... on speaking terms."

"Lo'ak mentioned that. 'Said something about how you and Toruk Makto have been driving your mother 'up the wall,'" Ao'nung's ears pin back while shyly admitting, "I am not sure I know what that means."

Y/n half-heartedly laughs, "It means we're driving her crazy."

"Oh... Yeah, you're pretty good at that."

Ao'nung's smugness is interrupted by a sharp elbow jabbing into his ribs and he yelps in response, Y/n's scowl looking as adorable as ever to him as she cursed, "Kurkung."

~~~~~~~~~

Neytiri usually loved how stubborn her mate could be, and she loved it even more when that stubbornness was passed down to their children. But lately, that stubbornness is driving her absolutely insane and it might also be tearing her family apart more than it already is.

She had been telling Jake that he needed to talk to Y/n and he needed to act soon, or else Y/n would grow up and become taronyu right under his nose. And then it will be too late for forgiveness. Y/n's childhood will be gone permanently and there would be no way for Jake to fix it. Neytiri has a fear that her daughter will only continue to distance herself from her father as she gets older until there's nothing left to mend, so the Na'vi woman has done everything in her power to keep that from happening. She had talked to both Jake and Y/n separately, but nothing appeared to work.

Jake has the Human mindset that Y/n just needs her distance from him, while Y/n secretly resents her father for not just telling her how he really feels. Neytiri, luckily, doesn't have the same mindset as her mate so she took matters into her own hands. 

One afternoon, Neytiri refused to let either of their stubborn asses into her marui and told them to go hunting together, threatening to not let them back in until they had talked it all out. "We are a family. We have lost too much to be anything but! Start acting like a family."

Like father, like daughter, they begrudgingly left to go fishing together, taking their respective tsurak and ilu before swimming out beyond the reef to hunt for their family's next meal. They stubbornly tried to do so in silence, but too much hurt and words hung between them, making this hunting trip just as painful. While Jake was glad Y/n appeared to be doing better, smiling and laughing like normal whenever she was around friends, he couldn't help but feel hurt whenever her eyes landed on him and her smile would immediately disappear. Even now, when they were alone, Y/n looked as though time had not passed since Neteyam's death, her expression unhappy as her gaze looked off into the distance as if she had not healed at all. Maybe, whenever her father was concerned, she hadn't healed at all like everyone thinks.  

"Your first word was 'fly,'" was the first thing that came to mind, and he had no idea where that came from. Y/n suddenly turned and stared oddly at her father, but said nothing in response. Jake looks out over the ocean, replaying the memory in his head, "Neteyam was sick that day and we were scared that you would catch it, so we separated the two of you. I took you flying while your mother and grandmother tended to your brother. I was trying to occupy your mind, holding you in my arms while Bob wandered around.  Anyway, you and I were flying and you mumbled that word. It was a moment that I alone witnessed and cherished forever. Your mom was sad that she had missed it. Mo'at believed it was a sure sign that you would become one of the best flyers someday, and she was right. She also believed that because you spoke your first word to me, you would always trust me and come to me first for anything... I wish she was right about that, too."

He finally turned back to his daughter, ears drooping as he reassured her, "Not that it's your fault, kiddo. It's mine. I pushed you away, I expected too much from you and Neteyam. From all of you. There's no excuse for what I did, not even war or the fear I have of losing you. Everything that's happened until this very moment has been my fault, and... I am so, so sorry."

They sit silently on their respective tsurak and ilu for some time while Y/n carefully stares at her father and tries to piece together a puzzle in her head, the soft waves bobbing the pair of them up and down in the water as she gathers her thoughts. 

Jake looked so old at that moment, aging far past his years as if cryosleep had finally caught up to him, devastated and beside himself as he stared back, hoping his daughter could see how genuine he was. It's funny, in a strange, twisted way. Y/n had grown up believing everyone when they said her father was the great and mighty Toruk Makto, one of only six throughout the history of the Na'vi. They all described Jakesully as a strong warrior, as sturdy as the trees and unforgivable as the ocean, whereas whenever Y/n looked at him, all she could see was her dad. He's not particularly tall -at least not compared to Tonowari- or strong or unforgivable. He's just... ordinary to her. An ordinary man. As a child, sure, she believed all the stories told of him and considered him her number one hero, but as she grew older, she saw less of the legend and more of the man behind it. It's hard to picture the man who grounds you whenever you do something wrong as the same man who brought the clans together in a time of great sorrow. 

Even though Y/n was easily able to separate her father from the great Toruk Makto, others might not be able to, such as Jake himself. She could only imagine the burden placed on his shoulders as a husband, father, and leader. She knew he had to make a difficult choice by choosing his family over his clan, believing he could protect both from the Sky People by running away. In the human stories she'd heard in the past, usually, the hero sacrifices everything they love for the greater good. A quote she could faintly remember, something about a Vulcan stating "needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few" or something like that. They all start to blur together and she can't remember which of those stories were fact or fiction. Either way, when she thought of those stories, she didn't picture her father as any of those heroes. To her, he was the olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan and war hero of the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. Toruk Makto wasn't about sacrifices or choosing who to save. He was about bringing the clans together to mourn, to love, and to fight as one. 

So losing Neteyam wasn't just hard on Jake as a father but as a leader as well. A father protects, but so does a leader, and he failed at both of them. Soon, Y/n will be sixteen years old, and no matter how hard she tried to think like an adult, she couldn't imagine what her father must be going through right now. She couldn't imagine the pain he was feeling, losing the very child that made him a father in the first place. Parents shouldn't have to bury their children. Parents are meant to grow old and die without ever having to worry about their own child's death. They should be the ones to go first... not their child. Not their sweet, innocent babies.

A tear slipped down Y/n's face when she first noticed her own father silently crying throughout the silence. A part of her wished to never have children for the sake of sparing herself this kind of pain, while another part of her wished to see what it'd be like to raise children one day and see if she could do better than the people who came before her. Jake wasn't the best father in the world, but he was hers, and she wanted to be proud of that fact, "I said I would never forgive you, Dad. That doesn't mean that I'll never stop loving you."

He peered up at her, watching her carefully as she rolled her lips when her tear slipped into her mouth. She sniffled quietly as she whispered, "I-- I can't help it. You're my father. And... And maybe someday soon I'll learn how to forgive, but I could never forget." 

Jake tried to collect himself, taking deep breaths and wiping his own tears away, nodding, "That's okay kiddo. I understand."

"How... how did your brother die?"

Jake winced, hissing silently between his teeth. It wasn't a topic suitable for children, but after everything his daughter had been through, it's safe to say her innocence had been shattered a while ago, no matter how hard her parents had tried to contain it. It breaks Jake a little more every day realizing just how young all his children are and just how much they have already gone through in the early stages of their lives. Nevertheless, Jake's kids barely know anything about his brother and they try not to press, but he knew eventually he'd have to tell them.

"A gun, I think. Or a knife. I... I honestly can't remember. That was so long ago... it almost didn't feel real. And-- I'll be honest, I wasn't a very nice person back on Earth. I was completely wasted when I was told my brother was dead."

Y/n nods but doesn't comment on that. She can't exactly picture her father being some sort of drunk or a monster. She had seen his video diaries that Norm had kept for studying, so she knew what her father looked like as a human, but a monster? No, she couldn't even imagine. "I think you should talk about Uncle Tommy more. I think we'd all like to hear more about him."

"Yeah," he replies solemnly, looking as gray as the sky ahead of them, "I wish you could have met him."

It would've been nice to see where the twin gene came from. To see her father's brother in a side-by-side comparison would be funny in its own way. Y/n had always wondered what Tomsully was like or if he was anything like her dad. 

The heavy conversation didn't really feel suited for fishing and Y/n wasn't exactly enjoying herself any more than Jake was. She felt her fingers begin to fidget as she quietly asked, "Can... Can we go to the Spirit Tree? Just us?"

Jake turned back, eyes softening into something that resembled a gentle father more than a war hero, "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want."

~~~~~~~~~

The Cove looked the same as when Ao'nung had taken Y/n there... right before everything went to shit. As she and Jake dive down to the Spirit Tree, she begins to get nervous, her heart wanting to leap up into her throat. Her father nodded in encouragement and kept a vigil watch while she connected to a tendril of the tree, taking her kuru braid and connecting the tswin to the branch. 

The moment she closed her eyes, she found herself standing on the beach of the village. Confusion wrapped around her brain as she looked around, wondering what she was doing there. She was alone, watching everyone go about their day as normal, only... none of the faces looked clear. It was as though a dense fog was placed over the faces and a part of Y/n wondered if she had dreamt of her and her father going out to fish and visit the Spirit Tree. That is... until she heard a familiar voice.

"Ah, there you are!"

Spinning around, her voice nearly got caught in her throat as her eyes set on an approaching figure, "Neteyam..."

Walking tall and confident, Neteyam smiled brightly as he walked up to his twin sister, beckoning over his shoulder, "Come on. You said you wanted to fly."

Ah. A memory. Y/n had forgotten that the Spirit Tree only contains a past loved one's memories unless she strayed from the memory to speak to him directly. Y/n wanted nothing more than to live out this memory once more; to fly alongside her twin brother as she was meant to for the rest of their lives... but maybe some other time.

"Actually... can we talk?" 

From here, the memory drifts away from history, away from what actually happened. The vision subtly moves, shifting to Y/n's preferred reality. When she pulls from the memory, Neteyam's expression moves like it's obstructed by water before the vision clears, and suddenly Neteyam's memory is also speaking off script, confused but obliging her request.

"What is it?" When he asked her this, she realized she was now speaking to Eywa's image of Neteyam, and suddenly her eyes began to blur and a sob escaped her throat. Neteyam immediately grew concerned, his protective older brother's side showing once more as he stepped close to gathering his twin up in his arms. He brushed a few tears away and then proceeded to hug her close, speaking in soothing, small words, "Hey. Hey, Y/n... it's alright. Why are you crying?"

She continued to cry into her brother's shoulder, repeatedly wiping her face but it was pointless, the tears refusing to stop, "I miss you so much, 'Teyam!" She wailed, "There isn't a day that goes by when I don't-- when I don't think of you."

"What are you talking about?"

Y/n began to cry even harder, mad at Neteyam and mad at Eywa for making her say it out loud, "You're gone, tsmukan. You've been gone for... a few months now. And it still hurts. It hurts like it just happened yesterday. This isn't real. We are in Ranteng Utralti. The Spirit Tree of the Metkayina."

"Oh." Neteyam gently pulled away and held his sister out at arm's length, looking around, curious and confused, but strangely, he wasn't scared, "So this is it? I am one with Eywa?"

Y/n took a moment to properly wipe her tears and try to relax, muttering under her breath as she nodded, "Yes..."

"You came to visit me?"

"Yeah... it is my first time doing so." Immediately, Neteyam's eyes fall back on hers before she lowers her head in shame, unable to look him in the eye, "I'm sorry. I should have come sooner, but... I was scared. Dad and Lo'ak visit the most, but I... I couldn't face you."

"What... When was the last we saw each other... before...?"

She had to pause for a few short minutes to think about it, willing herself to remember that fateful day after spending so long just trying to forget it. Thinking hard enough for her head to hurt, it took her a while to forget yellow unblinking eyes, cold skin... and all of that blood that still haunts her nightmares. She tried to get past the fire, the Sky People, and the screams and cries clawing from her own lungs and those around her. Trying to picture her twin's face, alive and well, was harder than she thought, replaying the events that had led up to the battle actually happening.

"You... you separated from us to lure the Sky People away," she recalled, her bottom lip beginning to quiver again, "You went alone. That was the last time I saw you alive. I... I don't even remember the last thing I ever said to you."

"Ah. That's alright then."

Her head snapped up quickly, staring wide-eyed in disbelief at Neteyam while he only smiled softly. Her tone was accusatory as she bit out, "'That's alright'? No! No, that is not alright! You died, 'Teyam!"

He simply shrugged, "We all have to die someday, tsmuke. That is what we are told from the day we are able to understand it."

"But why is it alright that you got separated from us and died for it?!"

"Because I drove the Sky People away, right? I made sure my siblings were safe," Y/n was opening and closing her mouth to try and find a retort before Neteyam stepped closer again, reaching out and firmly grasping the back of her head to make her look him in the eyes, "It is my job to protect my brother and sisters and I take that job very seriously."

She felt her shoulders slouch as a breathy scoff escaped her lungs, "I can't believe you sometimes. You've always been so... accepting. That worried me sometimes. It worried me how you could always be so... resigned to everything."

He smirked, "I thought it was a healthy opposition to you, someone who could never just lie down and accept that things are just the way they are. You were always so stubborn, Y/n, determined and hopeful that things could always change for the better."

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from calling her twin a liar, glancing away to focus more on the sand of the beach, "I wish that were true about me."

"It's always been true."

"Not anymore. How--" She swallowed a sob before it could make a sound, eyes beginning to water once again as she peered up to stare into her brother's matching eyes, "How can I be hopeful for a better tomorrow if you're no longer there to see it? It will never be brighter, or better, because you're gone."

"I am gone..." he nods as if he hadn't just been informed of this mere moments ago, "But not fully. Look around you."

When she obediently did so, her eyes widened in wonder as the beach slowly melted away and turned the vision into a vast, heavy, and healthy forest. Their forest, was as vibrant and as beautiful as she remembered it. She can hear a pack of nantang calling off to one another in the distance while the sun tries to peek through the canopy, shining proudly down onto the twins. Leaves and shrubbery rustle to indicate life all around them while Neteyam only looks down at his sister. Y/n wasn't entirely sure, but she thought he looked different in this new light. Like he looked more... alive in the forest than he did on the beach. Her heart was saddened at the memory of 'Teyam telling her that he missed home, but now he can go home as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted.

It was like Y/n was now standing in Neteyam's own personal heaven instead of a memory she found within the Spirit Tree. 

Neteyam grasps both of her shoulders, "I am one with Eywa now. You can always find me here, whenever you need me. Remember, tsmuke, that I am at peace now. I may not remember what happened to me, but I hope it aches a little less for you to know that I don't remember the pain."

A tear slips past her detection, and even though it was minuscule at best, Y/n could feel a small part of her heart mend back together, comforted by her brother's words. She nods her head in reply and tries clearing her throat to speak, "Dad... he said you had last words for me. You wanted to tell me to 'find more.'"

Neteyam didn't have eyebrow hair like her, but the ridge where an eyebrow could've been lifted up in question, "Isn't that what I said when talking about Ao'nung the other night?"

Her eyes widen, replaying his words until the memory comes back to light. For the moment, she ignored the fact that Neteyam mentioned the memory so casually as if it had only happened a few days ago for him, whereas it had actually been months ago for her, "You remember that?"

"I do. You know me, sweet sister," he smiled, "As a warrior, it is vital for me to constantly visit the Spirit Tree so I can retain as much of my memory within Eywa. I don't take Grandmother's words lightly. You know this."

"I know..." Her shock slowly melts into a sad smile, "You were sometimes a little too serious."

As if making a point, Neteyam dropped the serious act in exchange for flashing a teasing grin at her, "So?"

"What?"

"Did you 'find more?'"

Her stomach flips and her mouth forms into a pout. It felt like acid on her tongue to begrudgingly admit to her brother that he was right, "... I did."

He grinned in triumph, "I told you so."

"Shut up."

"No need to sulk, Y/n," he laughed, "It is not your fault you were born dense."

"I am not dense! I just..." She doesn't have a proper rebuttal and sighs in defeat, "I miss this. I haven't had a talk like this in a while."

Neteyam hums mostly to himself, "You should talk more. People tend to realize that you are actually nice the more you talk."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," he smiles triumphantly again when he gets her to laugh, then lets his expression form a more genuine, encouraging aura around them. He steps close to Y/n again and places a hand on the top of her head, "The sea gives and the sea takes. The sea gave you Ao'nung in exchange for me."

She wished he didn't make it sound like she willingly traded her brother for Ao'nung and shook her head defiantly, shaking his hand off of her, "It's not fair."

"I know. But it was Eywa's will, Y/n."

"I just... you should be here."

"I am here."

"No. Here here," she complained as the tears began to form yet again, "You should be completing your Iknimaya with me. You should be helping Tuk learn how to use a bow. You should be sitting quietly with Kiri whenever she gets overwhelmed. You... you should be having fun with Lo'ak and Spider like you did when the three of you were younger. We're already growing up without you and I feel so guilty to be moving on."

He shushes her softly and reaches out to brush her tears away, "Moving on does not mean you'll miss me any less. In time, you'll just learn how to balance out the pain with happiness instead. Never feel guilty or regret for me, Y/n. I could never blame you for finding the light in the darkest of places. I may not be right beside you, but I will always be with you, one way or another. And I won't be alone."

When her eyebrows briefly scrunch in confusion, he sheepishly smiles and thinks of all the possibilities, "I mean-- do you think I can finally meet Grandfather? I wonder if our mother's sister is here as well, and Brother Tsu'tey and Dr. Augustine. Who knows-- maybe Dad's twin brother might be with Eywa as well."

It's an encouraging thought, and it's a thought that makes Y/n smile ever so slightly again, "If... if you see any of them, let me know next time."

"I will try," he stares at her in silence for a moment, then looks as though he's decided on an important matter, "Promise me something."

"Sure."

"Don't visit often."

Her eyes widen again, shocked and almost appalled, dread filling her gut at the thought of leaving her twin all alone here, "What? Why?"

His expression is grim and serious, much like how he looked when she last saw him alive, taking the red pinger that was once stuck in Payakan and swimming away from the rest of them, "I do not think it would be healthy to speak with the dead constantly when you could be missing out on so much of your life. I want you all to live far longer than me, Y/n, and I would be happy knowing you were out there living your lives rather than constantly visiting me. If you must, visit me after important dates or ceremonies. Catch me up on our siblings' endeavors, when they finish their trials, who are they courting, how many children they have... and I hope to hear the same about you as well. Promise me, Y/n."

Her teeth grind together, hidden in her mouth as she thinks, already missing Neteyam even though she hadn't left yet. Now that she had finally gained the courage to talk to him again, it felt as though they were being separated all over again. The one and only time they, as twins, have been separated... and it was permanent. It hurt that he didn't want her to continuously return to see him, but Y/n knew her brother better than anyone. Neteyam was selfless, and he would rather be alone while his family moved on and lived out their full, long lives, waiting until they would finally join him with Eywa. Maybe, to Neteyam, it wouldn't feel like a long time. Maybe time wouldn't even pass for him... but it would for Y/n... and it was hard to even fathom a lifetime without her twin by her side.

Still, she had never known a time when she didn't want to make her brother happy in turn, "I promise."

A/N: Ao'nung and Y/n are the perfect definitions of "he fell first, she fell harder". This chapter was longer than all the other ones so I had to split it into two parts, so the next one will be out shortly! And then it will be onto the finale!

[squad-724]

More mer batch au!

Wrecker meeting Tech!

AND THERE’S ANOTHER SNIPPET BY @clownery-and-fuckery

“You have to be gentle, Wrec'ika, he's a bit shy.”

Wrecker stared over the doc, hands clutching the water kissed boards to peer into the kiddie pool 99 had pulled to the edge for him to look at.

He lifted higher out of the water, the whale shark tail swishing happily, kicking up sprays of the salty sea as he spotted him.

99 said this was his brother. His very own, baby brother.

“He’s small,” He signed to his dad with honesty.

99 said when he had found him, he was very scared. He said Wrecker needed to be very gentle, because some bad men had him before 99 found him. Whatever that was meant to mean.

He- looked scared, his long, bright red tentacles coiling up unto his body as he tried to push away from the new face. Wrecker smiled, all teeth, trying to look friendly, purring and chirping high sounds as he did.

His small brother watched him, and he uncoiled just a little bit, not as scared as before. In fact, he looked… curious. Maybe even more so than Wrecker.

Still, the small boy looked to 99, who smiled happily and gestured towards Wrecker.

“His name is Tech, Wrec'ika,” 99 told him softly. “He's going to live with us, okay?”

Wrecker nodded. That was more than okay! He had his own brother- one he could play with under the water when 99 ran out of breath and had to swim up to the surface for air. They could go on so many adventures, have so much fun, they could—

“Wrec'ika?” 99's voice brought him back. He sounded happy. “I think Tech'ika wants to say hello.”

Wrecker blinked, and gasped, delighted to see his little brother had inched closer, now perched on the edge of the rubbery pool, watching him closer.

Wrecker let out a sound meaning a greeting, positively shaking with excitement. Tech might have not known any sign language, but he still introduced himself “Hi! I'm Wrecker,”

Tech blinked, slowly, and reached up. Wrecker stared at him, glancing to 99, who chuckled before sitting closer and mumbling so only his older kid heard him.

“I think he wants you to pick him up, Wrec'ika, would you like to?” 99 asked.

Wrecker made a soft sound of surprise, then happily reached, taking his brother into his arms and lifting him from the kiddie pool slowly.

He fretted only for a moment as the octopus mer got comfortable, squirming and giggling at the feeling of his suction cups latching around his stomach and shoulders to steady himself.

Wrecker watched his brother get attached properly. When he did, Tech looked at him, blinking slowly again. Then, the small boy made a happy, trilling sound, and he lifted his hands to examine Wrecker's face.

99 laughed softly as he watched the boys. Wrecker allowed Tech to pull at his lips, revealing his sharp teeth, and was careful not to allow the small boy to poke at the ends of them.

Tech let out a series of sounds- Wrecker only understood the intentions behind them, happy, and welcoming. He gripped onto the bigger mer tighter, and smiled wide as he explored.

Wrecker wrapped him into a hug, squeezing his little brother softly as he glanced to 99.

In his arms- Tech still felt very small. Maybe even smaller than he looked. 99 said he was scared- but that wasn't right. He shouldn't be scared, ever. Wrecker watched his new little brother carefully and puffed out his chest.

“I'm gonna watch him till he gets bigger,” He promised, signing both for himself and for 99. “And even after that. Because we're brothers now. He won't ever have to worry because I'm gonna take good care of him,”

Tech looked up at him, and tilted his head.

“I dunno if he gets that just yet, Wrec'ika, he's only young,” 99 told him softly. “But–”

“That's okay,” Wrecker nodded, his hand pumping together. “I can teach him!” He grinned.

Tech smiled at him, too, letting out another happy trill before he went back to his exploration. 99 laughed gently.

His attention wandered to the docks, to the sea he wouldn't touch yet, but that was okay. Wrecker would be there when he was ready, because that's what brothers did.

99 watched the two boys explore, with Tech pointing and making a demanding sound, and Wrecker swimming over to show the bot, explaining what he was looking at. He couldn't help the wide smile that spread, and he managed to snap a photo when they weren't looking.

99 let them play on the dock until the sun began to set.

I love these two so much <3

[delicateflowerss]

Savior Complex

JJ Maybank can't stop thinking about you after he finds you during one of your late-night swims. He'll do anything to figure out who you are, even if you don't want him to.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, loss of virginity, dark!JJ, obsession, shoplifting, slight violence, pogue!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

this is loosely based off the daphne and apollo myth, enjoy <3

The first time JJ sees you he isn’t sure if you’re real or a figment of his imagination.

He’s not sure of the time. He just knows it’s late, the ocean matching the color of the night sky. The breeze hits him hard as he gulps down cheap beer.

He thought it would be a good night to take the boat out on the water.

Growing up, his dad would tell him how night was better for catching big fish.

He tells himself that he thought he would take his father’s advice out of pure boredom. Not because he was tired of feeling the crushing weight of silence in his house.

He isn’t as successful as he wanted to be, catching nothing of significance.

Until he sees you.

You’re far away from him, closer to shore than he is.

But once he spots you, he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even if he can’t make out your face, he can tell you’re the most beautiful creature he has ever laid his eyes on. You are graceful in your movements, like you learned how to swim before you could talk.

He could swear that your skin glowed in the moonlight.

You probably think no one is out there with you, acting like you aren’t under anyone’s prying eyes.

He almost feels bad while watching you, like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to.

You finally swim away and all he can do is let you, leaving him alone.

You haven’t left his mind since that night. He doesn’t think he recognizes you so he’s not sure you’re even from the island.

But he doesn’t think you’re a Touron either.

So, who are you?

He tries again, going back out on the water only to possibly catch a glimpse of you.

He waits hours and the most interesting thing he sees is a whale passing by. It calls out, a loud and longing noise.

It’s alone in the ocean, searching for another just like itself.

It doesn’t take long for JJ to run out of beer, swearing under his breath when he finds the empty cooler.

Another hour passes before he spots you again.

His lips part slightly as he watches you bathe in the moonlight. Any coherent thoughts have left him.

Finally, he blinks, swallowing before he yells out to you.

“Hey!”

Startled, you stop your careless fun, staring back at the strange boy on the boat as you stay afloat.

Before he can say anything else, you’re already swimming away.

“Wait-,” he starts, reaching his hand out.

But you’re too far to even hear him. JJ doesn’t think he’s seen someone move that fast before.

He curls his fingers into his palm as he presses his lips together.

He thought he could at least find out your name. Instead, you were a fawn in the forest and he was the hunter, snapping a twig and ruining his moment to strike while letting you run away.

Another week has passed, and JJ still hasn’t been able to get you off his mind.

The only good thing that came out of his attempt to talk to you is that he was able to see your face before you swam away.

It’s burned into his memory, the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last thing before he goes to sleep.

It’s not lost on him that he knows nothing about you. But he feels like he does. He feels like he’s supposed to know you.

He worries that he hit his head and should be taken to the hospital. He’s never felt this way about anyone before and he isn’t exactly sure why he feels this way about you.

It doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen you since. Not that he’s actively looking, but everyday he goes around wondering if he’ll see you today.

He knows your face and you must be somewhere on the island. It’s just up to fate or coincidence when you finally run into him.

“JJ, we’ve seen that movie ten times. We need to watch something different tonight.”

“I would love to hear you come up with something better. But I really don’t think you can,” JJ says, giving his friend a taunting look.

Pope rolls his eyes before retorting, “I can think of a thousand different movies better than C.H.U.D.”

It seems like JJ doesn’t hear him, the chiming of the bell above the shop door interrupts Pope’s sentence.

He trails behind JJ as they walk into the corner store.

“Hey, Bob. How ya doin’?” JJ greets the man at the register.

“I have my eye on you, JJ,” Bob simply replies.

The cheeky smile is wiped off JJ’s face before he heads right for the beer.

“6 or 12?”

“12. We’re completely out,” Pope responds.

JJ looks through the smudged glass one more time before grabbing the 12-pack and walking back to the register.

Except, he slows, blocking out whatever Pope is telling him.

“You’re 8 dollars short.”

“What? No-,” you start to say as you dig into the beat-up purse hanging off your shoulder.

“Sorry, Miss. You’re going to have to put something back.”

You give up on searching for more money, sighing as you point to the sugar. Bob puts it to the side and bags up the rest of your groceries.

Once you’re handed the paper bag, you’re walking out the door.

JJ almost freezes for a second, having seen the entire scene. He knows he can’t miss another chance.

He leaves the beer with Pope as he runs out the store.

“Hey! Wait,” he calls out to you.

This time, you turn around, not getting ready to run off.

You look back at him with a question in your eyes and it takes him a moment to think of what he’s going to say to you.

His eyes can’t help but rake over your figure. Your clothes don’t match your appearance, too worn out for such an alluring person.

“I couldn’t help but see that you didn’t get your sugar,” he explains, motioning back at the store. “Bob can be such a dick.”

He swallows when you don’t crack a smile, still staring at him with uncertainty.

“If you give me a second, I can see what I can do.”

All you do is stare.

“Okay? Just wait,” he quickly says before going back into the store.

He keeps his head down, going unnoticed while Bob is ringing up Pope. He sneaks through the aisles, grabbing a small pink carton off a shelf.

A triumphant smirk is painted on his lips when he slips out of the store, finding you waiting.

He doesn’t miss the surprise in your eyes as you take the sugar from him.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Don’t worry about it. Not a penny out of my pocket.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly, lips parting as you understand what he means.

“Still. You could get into a lot of trouble,” you wearily say.

“No trouble I haven’t already been in,” JJ says almost proudly. “Bob’s all talk anyway.”

“Well, thanks.” A small smile finally forms on your face.

JJ takes that as a win.

As you shift your feet, JJ scratches the back of his head before saying what’s really on his mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you the other night.”

You slightly shake your head. But you bite your lip, like you’re stopping yourself from saying anything else.

“If I did, hopefully this made up for it.” JJ chuckles and as he starts to say something else, you cut him off.

“I have to get going. But thank you again,” you hurriedly say before turning around.

JJ watches you leave with an open mouth.

“What was that about?” Pope asks, stepping beside JJ, a pack of beer in his hand.

He glances at Pope but simply shakes his head.

He just wanted to know your name.

JJ’s unrest doesn’t last long. It’s only a few days later when he sees you again as he’s walking along the shore.

He notices you first while your eyes are glued to the sand, stopping every once in a while to pick something up.

By the time he reaches you, you have no choice but to look up, finding familiar blue eyes.

“Weird running into you again,” he remarks. “You aren’t following me, are you?”

He has to stop himself from grinning at the look on your face. You stare at him with wide eyes before shaking your head.

“No-.”

He laughs, unable to contain it anymore, flashing pearly white teeth at you.

“I’m just playing with you.”

You smile a little, eyes falling on the waves crashing onto the shore.

“What are you doin’ out here anyway?” JJ asks, trying to peek into your closed hand.

You hesitate before opening your curled fingers, showing him the seashells you’ve been collecting.

You worry he’s going to make fun of you but relief washes over you when he smiles.

“Wow. You just found all these?”

“Yeah. This one is my favorite.” You hold the seashell up and as the sun shines through the pearl color, JJ notices the sparkling tiny flecks.

He quickly moves his eyes to yours as you stare at its’ beauty, and he decides the seashell doesn’t have anything on the way your eyes shine.

“It’s pretty, but it doesn’t really have much on you.”

You cast your eyes downward at his comment and he internally curses at himself, the words having come out without him thinking.

He decides to change the subject, starting to squint because of the bright sunshine.

“How come I’ve never seen you before? You just move here or something?”

“No,” you answer. “I’ve pretty much been here for my entire life. I was just homeschooled so that’s probably why we’ve never met.”

“Homeschool,” he says the word like it’s foreign to him. “I can’t imagine what that would be like.”

“Lonely,” you immediately say.

Before JJ can say anything else, he hears the voices of his friends behind him. You notice them too, eyes scanning over the group that is loudly talking and laughing.

“If you’re not busy, you can come hang with us,” he offers, pointing to the group heading toward the two of you.

By the look on your face, he can tell you’re going to say no. He internally flinches to prepare for it.

“Hey, it’s the girl from the store,” Pope says, stumbling through the sand.

You smile sheepishly, feeling all eyes on you.

“Yeah, this is…” JJ hopes that you introduce yourself for him, still not knowing your name.

When you say it, he can’t help but repeat it over and over again in his head like he’s casting a spell.

“He’s not bothering you, is he?” John B asks lightheartedly.

“I was just inviting her to hang out with us,” JJ explains.

John B goes to say something else to JJ while Sarah gasps at the seashells you’re still holding.

“Those are beautiful! Did you just find these?” She runs her fingers over them. “I’m Sarah by the way,” she adds, throwing you a polite smile.

“And I’m Kie,” another girl says, giving a slight wave.

“Nice to meet you,” you say to both of them.

“So, what happened at the store? Is that where you met JJ?” Sarah asks with raised eyebrows.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” you chuckle a little.

“We’re all going back to John B’s. Why don’t you come and tell us about it?” When you hesitate, Kie continues, “come on. You have something better to do?”

You stare at the two girls’ hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer.

These are the kind of friends you always wished you had.

Finally, you nod, their grins overtaking their faces.

You feel his eyes on you more than once. There is a weight to it, lingering on you, feeling heavy on your skin.

You don’t really talk to JJ again that day, mostly talking to Sarah and Kie while you hang out on John B’s front porch.

JJ notices how you’re more comfortable around the girls. It never occurred to him that would probably be the case, being homeschooled and all.

You probably don’t have brothers, he guesses.

At least you’re there, around him. He can still learn things about you even in small ways.

That’s enough for him.

You don’t hesitate to accept when Sarah and Kie invite you to hang out with them again. You’ve never been the best at making friends and being isolated your whole life hasn’t helped.

So, you’re happy that they seem to want you to be their friend.

Almost everyone has gone inside by the time it gets dark.

Everyone except for you and JJ.

You both are drying off on folding chairs after an afternoon spent in the hot tub.

You were unsure when Sarah and Kie left. But you could tell Sarah wanted to be alone with John B, and Kie with Pope.

So, you’re left in the humid air with JJ. The only sounds are the hum of insects and the faint noise of a boat horn occasionally.

You both sip on beers, your mouth twisting up at the taste.

JJ is the first to break the silence.

“You know, for having been homeschooled, I’m surprised your parents let you go out in the middle of the night to swim in the ocean.”

His eyes peek over at you, and he takes note of how you keep your stare on your hands in your lap.

You swallow, the words not coming easily to you.

“Um, my dad left a while ago. And my mom was never really around so…”

The air suddenly feels thicker, a somberness settling between the two of you.

JJ’s lips part as you continue, “I live alone. I have for the last year. That’s why I don’t always have enough to buy things like sugar.”

Your voice is fragile, like it could crack at any given moment.

You finally meet his gaze, and you almost wish you hadn’t.

He has that look of pity that you know all too well, but there’s something else there.

“I guess we have more in common than I thought,” is all he says.

You look at him, confused, until realization hits you. Not many people steal for fun, they do it because they have to.

“Why don’t I take you fishing tomorrow?” His usual cockiness is back, any seriousness from earlier is long gone. “People like us have to learn how to live off the land.” A smirk grows on his lips, an electricity present in his blue eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

You smile, not wasting a second in saying yes.

People like us dance around in your head.

You and JJ start bright and early, going out on the water in the same boat where you first saw him.

You worried fishing would be boring, but you don’t miss a thing JJ does or says as he gets everything ready.

You two end up getting a full net of fish and JJ knows all the work was worth it just to see the smile on your face.

As the day gets later, you can’t help but jump into the water for a quick swim. You feel better in the water, like your head is clearer.

All JJ can do is watch and he still doesn’t understand why it seems like you were born to be in the water, like it’s your home. A serenity passes over you that he’s never seen on anyone else.

Later in the afternoon, you show JJ where you live so he can dock near it.

It’s not a house you’re proud of, but it’s all you have.

Oddly, you don’t feel ashamed when JJ steps foot into it. You don’t get the feeling like you have to pretend around him.

JJ looks around as you both bring the fish in. It’s quaint but cleaner than his house could ever be.

“Should we start frying up this fish?” he asks you, already knowing your answer.

The hot, sticky air has started to cool a little. You and JJ sit under a tall oak tree in your front yard, moss draped over branches helping to shade you from the setting sun.

Dirty plates sit by your legs as JJ reclines against the tree, relaxed with his eyes closed. The sun-bleached strands of his hair stick up, messy and uncared for. You notice he runs his hand through his hair a lot, seemingly absentmindedly on his end.

His eyelids finally open, startling you as he catches you staring at him.

Your eyes fall to your knees, finding an ant crawling on your skin. You brush it off, hoping it finds a soft spot in the green grass beneath you.

When JJ looks at you, he still sees a question mark. There’s still so much he doesn’t know or understand about you. Anytime he feels like he’s getting somewhere with you, you pull away.

He wishes he could open your skull and find out exactly what you’re thinking.

But he can’t do that.

He hopes a simple comment will suffice for now.

“I had fun today.”

You finally look back at him, a smile easily forming on your face.

“Me too.”

You’re so close to him that he can smell the sea salt on your skin. It clouds his mind along with the way you keep your eyes set on him.

He barely thinks as he leans in closer, his nose bumping into yours.

You freeze, letting his lips ghost over yours, warm breath fanning over you.

“JJ,” you whisper, making him pause.

You pull away when he falters, watching the dazed look in his eyes disappear before looking down.

Before anger or disappointment can wash over his face, you grab his hand.

“Not right now, JJ. But…maybe someday.”

He meets your gaze and what you see is worse than what you tried to prevent.

Hope.

But that hope is quickly dashed away when you stop coming around to The Chateau.

He wishes you had just told him right when he tried to kiss you that you didn’t feel the same way. But he’s not sure that would have stopped the continuous thoughts about you.

Or the pain in his chest.

He dodges his friends’ questions about you. They seem to handle the rejection better than he can, disappointed and perplexed at best.

The silence in his house seems louder too, an unbearable noise he can’t tolerate anymore.

So, he looks for noise.

Your screen door slams as you walk out onto the porch. You’re wearing a dress, clean and old-looking.

Even when he’s angry with you, he can’t stop from dragging his eyes over you.

You must have seen him coming up the path to your house, finding him just outside.

There’s a roughness to you that he hadn’t seen before, and he realizes you couldn’t have made it this far by being gentle.

“Why haven’t you been around to John B’s?” His forehead is creased, and he doesn’t try to soften his words.

“JJ-.”

“Because when you said, “not right now,” I thought you meant we would at least be friends,” he spits out.

“Really? I had a feeling you wouldn’t be happy with that either.” You cross your arms, not moving an inch.

Your reply just makes him shake his head.

“Do you want the truth, JJ?”

“Yeah. That would’ve been nice from the beginning.” His eyes find yours while you gnaw on your bottom lip.

“I like you, JJ. But I can’t be with you.” Unlike him, you soften your words. But it doesn’t stop the next thing coming out of your mouth to him like a slap in the face.

“Ever.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief.

“I can’t do the boyfriend thing,” you immediately explain. “I need my space. And my independence. It’s also a promise I made. You might not understand but-.”

“I can give you space.” He steps closer to you.

“No. That’s not enough.” You back away as he gets closer.

“I don’t get it. You want to be alone for the rest of your life?” Bewilderment laces his tone.

“It’s not like that, JJ. I would have liked to be your friend. But nothing more.”

He stands there and listens, finally understanding what you’re saying. His pain is clear, eyes seeming to dim when he realizes you mean it.

“Maybe you’re just scared,” he tries again, reaching his hand out to you. But you squirm away, shaking your head.

You step past him, finally able to get around him, moving to the grass of your front yard.

“I’m sorry but it’s not going to happen. Just leave me alone, JJ.”

You stare at the back of his head, waiting for him to admit defeat.

Then he turns around and the look on his face is anything but. He has the same dazed look in his eyes as the day he tried to kiss you.

“I-I can’t,” he simply says, walking closer to you. “No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Fear jumps in your chest, moving to your veins.

“I need you.”

His fingers only wrap around your arm for a few seconds. With all your strength, you wiggle out of his grasp, adrenaline pushing you to run far away from him.

Your house is removed from the civilization of The Cut, just water and backroads surrounding it. When you hear JJ’s footfall behind you, all you can do is hope that you know the land better than he does.

After a while, dirt starts to turn to mud as your legs start to get tired. Trees surround you and swampy water lies ahead of you. You realize no one is going to be driving back here because of it so your hope of someone finding you is washed away.

There’s also nowhere for you to go besides the way you came. But as you try to catch your breath, you’re not sure if you can even run any longer.

Hopefully JJ got tired too, or even lost.

Except, it’s not long before you hear a particularly loud footstep. He says your name wearily as you whip your head around. He keeps his steps slight, moving toward you little by little, trying not to let you get away again. He looks like he’s trying to catch his own breath.

But as you look around, you don’t have much of a choice of where to go.

One failed attempt to run past him lands you in his arms.

The noise you let out is of pure frustration and fear. When he pushes you to the ground, you can’t stop the sobbing, tears streaming down your face.

You taste salty tears on your tongue, and it reminds you of the ocean. Will this just be a faded painful memory one day, or will the one thing you love be forever tarnished by this act of violence?

JJ’s weight lies on top of you as he kisses you, something he’s been wanting to do for a long time now. He tastes the tears on your lips, careless of the sob you let out when he comes up for air.

You push at his chest as he trails his lips along your neck. He claws at your dress, ripping it from your body, wanting to see more of you.

“Please, stop. JJ,” your attempts to stop him are dismissed.

You look up at the tall trees above you, almost touching the blue sky, shading you from the hot sun. You keep your eyes on the trees as you hear him undo his shorts.

A ragged cry leaves your lips as you feel him push inside you. A pleasured groan leaves his as he feels your cunt wrapped around him.

“It hurts,” you cry out, but he just shushes you.

“It’ll stop soon,” he says before thrusting into you again.

He keeps his eyes on you as his face contorts in the ecstasy he is getting from you.

His fingers ghost over your skin and they feel dirty, sticky for some reason. He rubs your breast before leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth, leaving a wet spot where his tongue was.

The pain fades like he says but something akin to seasickness twists in the pit of your stomach.

His thrusts get sloppier as you grab his arm. Love was never something that felt important to you. You didn’t want to show your vulnerabilities to someone, lying naked for them to see all of you.

But what do you do when someone forcefully picks you apart, watching you get bloody and raw from their doing.

He stills, a warmth filling you deep inside. JJ finds the crook of your neck, breathing heavily.

As he traces the damp skin of your cheek, he thinks about how he’s saving you. You thought life was better alone, but he’s here to show you differently. He’ll help you through the growing pains of changing, of learning to be with someone else.

As you lie under him, your eyes fall onto the white cloth of your dress.

It’s stained and ripped, thrown to the side, careless that it meant something to you.