#the Peril needs to happen :3
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see-arcane · 1 year ago
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I can’t root for him against the Perils if he’s not in Peril, now can I? 
And now: the Paris Sewers
@teknoctarkamacska writes
#poot jonathan the sewers are terrifying
@paulgadzikowski writes
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@c-schroed writes
#paris sewers sound marvellous! #perhaps a trip to the catacombes while we're there? #pretty please?
and @see-arcane writes
#he's in the sewers trying to dodge the Opera Ghost's music lessons #unfortunately - because he's him - he somehow ends up in the Catacombs #and he's now being pursued by literal ghosts #as well as Entities and Creatures and whatnot
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cursedwerewolf · 1 year ago
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so peril basically spent her entire life being treated like a monster for a flaw she had no control over by everyone but scarlet, who was manipulating her into being her personal killing machine and never questioning her and then she met someone who didn't treat her like a monster, who could even touch her without dying, and of course she became obsessed with him but she was still also obsessed with scarlet because she had spent her entire life being loyal to her and believing her and even though she was aware of the abusive nature of that relationship she couldn't overcome it so easily, especially with everyone else still treating her like a monster and when she was finally able to turn her back to scarlet she was still incredibly obsessed with clay because she was still modelling relationships after the one she had with scarlet and she had never developed normal social skills due to everyone treating her like a monster and so basically peril's story is about how hard it is to overcome severly abusive relationships and form normal healthy relationships with other people after spending your entire life in one
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hadeelsamir · 21 days ago
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Please help me
https://gofund.me/fdd492ab
✅️My number in the list has been verified by @gazavetters (#267)✅️
Peace be upon you. Support the family of Hadeel, an orphan, in their search for safety and escape from the genocide. I created a fundraising campaign to secure my family's safe travel to Egypt. Hadeel used to live in the city of Khan Yunis with her mother, who was suffering from chronic diseases, and her younger brother. Hadeel is twenty-nine years old. She graduated from university with a degree in public relations and media. She is an ambitious young woman who worked in several jobs serving and building her community. However, the genocide brought conflict and destruction. Hadeel became unemployed and homeless for her family. Hadeel lost everything she worked to build
It is very difficult to say that we have lost everything, it is like a recurring nightmare that we live every day. We have lost our beautiful and peaceful life and our warm and safe home. Our dreams of a bright and promising future have been shattered.
My tragic story with my family began with the beginning of the ground invasion in Khan Younis city when the Israeli army surprised the citizens living in Al-Mawasi, a safe place according to the Israeli army, early in the morning by shooting and shooting at anyone who moved. No matter what they were. My family and I were trapped in our beautiful home for 24 hours until we found a way and sneaked to safety so that they could survive for the first time.
We managed to find a way to escape to Rafah city,
We left all our belongings behind us, we were only carrying some money and important papers, we could not sleep that night. The next morning, we bought a tent trying to make it look like a shelter.
We spent 3 months in Rafah city not knowing what happened to our home that we left behind.
The area where my family and I used to live, the place where our beautiful home is located, I can no longer truly recognize it.
Your generosity and support could make a huge difference in saving our lives. The only way out of Gaza now is through the Rafah crossing, which requires a $5,000 fee.
Every donation, no matter how small, will help secure our safe exit from Rafah to a more stable environment in Egypt. Your kindness will provide us with the opportunity to rebuild our lives and have renewed hope for the future.
I humbly appeal for your compassion and kindness in helping with the urgent evacuation of me and my family. Your contributions will be a lifeline that will enable us to escape the perilous conditions we are currently living in.
Thank you for your compassion and support in this critical time of need.
With gratitude,
Hadeel
We humbly ask that those of you who can contribute do so, even if it is just one dollar. Every cent counts. Please also take the time to share this fundraiser on social media and through word of mouth to reach as many people as possible. This may be a big goal, but we have faith that the community can and will rise to the occasio
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nickfowlerrr · 1 year ago
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Bucky Barnes and you get stuck in elevator for one hour. What are you two doing? 🖤 honest answers only even if they are filthy 🔥
stuck with you
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
words: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ only. smut. angst. all the feelings. unprotected sex. hint of a breeding kink. some spanking. oh some very incorrect description of an anxiety attack and how to help someone through it. i know, i know, but it's for the story lmao. uhm if i'm missing something that should be tagged pls lmk!
notes: i couldn't not write something for this and it was gonna be so smutty and then i started and then i... i dont know what happened lol. but thank you for sending this in, i know it's not a direct answer but i hope you like it <3 thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated!
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"What exactly do you think slamming all the buttons will do?" he asked as he leaned against the wall of the elevator, nothing short of casual amusement lacing his voice as he watched you.
You ignored him, trying the emergency call button for the fifth time in the minute that had passed since the elevator stopped moving.
You didn't realize the change in your breathing until Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm. You flinched at his touch, having been too lost in your growing panic to notice he'd gotten closer.
"What?" you asked through a heavy, annoyed breath.
"You need to breathe, sweetheart," he instructed gently, tugging you to face him fully, pulling you away from the buttons as he did.
"I'm breathing," you snapped at him, forcing yourself to take a breath as you worked to steel your nerves. It was all in vain, though. You couldn't fight off the paranoid thoughts as they were coming through your mind too fast to even try and rationalize. "I just," you said shakily, "I ca- I can't,"
You suddenly found yourself nearly bowing over as you tried to catch a breath. Bucky helped you to sit while he kept his hold on you, his intent eyes set on you as your own squeezed shut, your hands mindlessly gripping his forearms as you tried to ground yourself.
"Look at me, sweetheart," he ordered firmly, though he waited patiently for you to follow his instructions.
You felt like you couldn't catch your breath, each one you took was too shallow and you couldn't manage to breathe in any deeper.
"Just hold your breath for a second, doll,"
You were still struggling, and the last thought on your mind was to stop breathing altogether, you were sure you'd pass out if you did. Your gasping was only growing worse as Bucky contemplated his options.
He didn't think long before he gently took your face in his hands and forced you to look at him, your eyes glassy and lips parted, desperate for air. had his heart clenching. He didn't want to see you like that, not with that fear in your eyes. He leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours, more fervently than he even meant to.
You were still against him for a moment, not moving as he pulled you closer to him. It took you a second to register what was happening. All at once, though, your mind caught up, your heart pounding in your chest only growing wilder as you let your eyes close, crawling into Bucky's lap as he held you gently, his lips still against yours. You were all together intoxicated by him, his soft but secure touch, the taste of mint and coffee on his lips, the scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo from your shared shower earlier, it wrapped around you as your previous thoughts of peril faded into the background.
All that you could think of was him, here and now. And you in his solid lap, his thick arms wrapped around you, his hands holding your face so delicately. Your lips began to work with his as you breathed him in and let him taste you in kind.
You soon lost yourself to him completely; and then, after another long minute, you realized you once again couldn't breathe.
You broke the kiss, hungry for air just slightly more than you were for him. You let your face fall as your noses brushed and you finally were able to catch your breath.
"Huh," you huffed, suddenly remembering yourself. You peeked up at him through your lashes meekly before you murmured a soft thank you.
He smirked halfheartedly, but a little bit of sadness he couldn't hide was apparent on his face as you then moved to get off of him, not that you noticed. Your thoughts were once again getting caught in a spiral.
As you tried to move off his lap, you were stopped. Bucky held you down, his large hands gently squeezing into your soft waist, keeping you exactly where you were.
"I get you're still mad at me, sweetheart, but I'm not just gonna sit here and watch you spiral again," he said as he pulled you into him.
You slumped into his chest, letting your heaviness rest on him as you nuzzled your face into his neck.
"I'm not mad at you," you mumbled into his skin.
"Could've fooled me," he breathed a humorless laugh.
You sighed, pulling away from him slightly.
"I'm not mad. I'm just-" you cut yourself off before forcing your tongue to continue, "I'm scared."
Your eyes were glued to his chest as you spoke but the moment the admission slipped past your lips, Bucky was tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes.
"Sweetheart," he began.
"Not of you. Of me. I just... I'm not, I'm not used to this. To being loved, the way you love me. And I don't wanna lose that," you whispered as tears pricked your eyes. "I don't want you to end up feeling stuck with me. Because I'm a lot, Bucky. And I'm not easy to live with. I'm particular and I need alone time a lot of the time... and ... You just have no idea what you're inviting into your life."
"You," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, his touch grazing your cheek as he wiped a tear from your skin. "I'm inviting you. I love you. I want you. All of it with you. Every last bit, doll."
You could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke and it only made you all the more worried.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, sweetheart. If you don't want to move in with me, you don't have to. If you need time, I'll wait. However long I have to," he said as his hands began to run up and down your back soothingly.
"I want to, Bucky. I do. I just don't want you to regret this."
"When are you gonna see it," he breathed as he squeezed you closer, looking up at you as he leaned back against the wall behind him.
"See what?"
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I could never regret you."
"You say that-"
"Ever."
Your eyes softened at his insistence, and deep down, you knew he meant it.
Your avoidance of an answer to his question this morning had been you trying to protect not only yourself, but him from disappointment, though it was becoming clearer and clearer that it was only hurting you both.
You were scared, but you also wanted this just as badly as he did. God, how long you'd dreamed about the day you'd wake up in Bucky's bed and not have to rush to your own apartment to get ready for work. How nice it'd be to get home from a miserable day and have him there to make things better without having to endure the twenty minute commute from his place to yours. To share a place together, your and his...
You were near burrowing yourself in his embrace, his hands still soothing up and down your back as he held you close, when you reached to grab one of his hands in yours.
You pulled away from him enough to look him in the eye.
"If you're sure,"
"I'm sure,"
"And if you ever wanna go back on it, or change your mind, I -"
"I wouldn't,"
"But if you do-"
"I won't."
There was a moment, a silent conversation between you two as you look into each other's eyes. You pressed your forehead to his, kissing him delicately before you pulled back again.
You nodded, "I'd love to move in with you, Bucky," you said with a small smile playing on your lips. Your heart soared as you watched the dopey smile that stretched onto Bucky's face before he crushed you against him. "That's all I needed to hear," he said in between kissing you everywhere he could in the position you were in. You laughed as you wiggled to sit up higher on his lap, looking down at him.
You reached a hand to brush through his hair, and as you did the elevator jolted. You caught yourself with a hand against the wall as Bucky tightened his arms around you instinctively.
You felt his warm breath against the swell of your breasts before you looked down with a raised brow. His face was right against your chest, and his eyes were now locked on your breasts as they hung in front of him, his hands grabbing at your ass while his eyes grew darker, filled with even more excitement.
"Wouldn't mind if that happened again," he said huskily.
"Odds are in your favor, you know this complex is the fucking worst," you huffed.
"All the more reason for you to move in with me," he smirked. "But ya know one good thing about these old buildings?"
"Hm?"
"They don't have cameras in the elevators," he said, smacking your ass and causing you to gasp and jolt from the strike.
He was mesmerized by the sight as he repeated his actions over and over again until you were whining and pressing your chest into his face.
"Buck," you mewled pathetically, the tingling between your thighs growing more unbearably with every slap against your ass. Each hit only getting you more wet for him.
You were seconds away from ripping your tank top off yourself but Bucky quickly pulled it off and over your head for you before his lips descended upon your breasts.
You let your head drop back in time with your hips pressing to sit fully in his lap, a moan escaping you when you felt his hard length against you. Your hands were in his hair as his hands squeezed your ample flesh, his lips fervent against your skin still.
You couldn't help yourself as you began tilting your hips over his, back and forth, your movements more urgent the more you felt him twitch beneath you.
Your bra had been tossed to the side minutes ago but you were still in your leggings while Bucky was still fully clothed.
When you tilted your hips just right, you felt his cock rub against your clothed clit and you nearly lost it completely; shoving yourself off of him to finally rid yourself of the clothing that kept you from what you really wanted. Bucky followed your lead without having to be told and got undressed in the blink of an eye. You saw his throbbing length standing erect for you and nearly salivated at the sight, your mouth parted in awe at his beauty. You swear, you'd never get over it. Every little thing about him, from his scars to his own stretch marks, every bit of his was beautiful. And you smiled as you saw him admiring you the very same way, that wonderstruck look in his eyes you'd never get used to. Your patience was wearing down the longer you took, though, and quickly, you climbed back down into his lap before lining his cock up to your slick entrance.
You slowly sank down on him, moans from both of you filling the elevator at the sensation.
"Oh, fuck, doll," he moaned while groping your hips. You started moving up and down his length, slowly as you enjoyed the stretch of him inside of you, wanting to feel each and every inch of his thick cock as it filled you up.
"Mmm," you hummed a mindless moan, throwing your head back in pleasure as Bucky took a pert nipple into his mouth, squeezing and kneading your breast in his big hand. "Feels good, Buck," you breathed, slamming your hips down on his cock, earning a deep throated growl from him.
Suddenly his hands were back on your wide set hips, his fingers digging into the plushy flesh there as he began fucking up into you himself. You were helpless as you keened at the feeling, gripping his shoulders to keep yourself upright. "Oh god, Bucky, please," you whined, pushing your hips back down to meet his thrusts, "please, please, please,"
"You close, sweetheart?" he panted. "I can feel you gripping my cock, baby, fuck," his eyes squeezed tight as he nearly snarled the curse of pleasure.
"Gonna fuckin' fill you up and then you're really gonna be stuck with me,"
"Bucky," you gasped, though it came out with a moan.
"That's it, sweetheart, take my fucking cock, just like that, doll. Just like that," he punctuated each word with another snap of his hips into yours, rolling into you and rubbing your clit deliciously with his every move.
You were both panting, a sheen of sweat on both of you as he fucked you perfectly, the only other sounds to be heard were of your twin moans and the slapping sounds of skin on skin, the salacious squelching of his dick drilling into you over and over.
His thumb found your clit and drew tight circles over the sensitive bud as he felt your walls tightening around him, wanting to keep him inside of you. It was almost blinding, the way you were hit with your orgasm. Your muscles tightened as Bucky continued to fuck you through the high, unintelligible moans and whimpers of his name and cries intermingled as the waves of pleasure crashed over you over and over again.
You found yourself on your back in the blink of an eye as Bucky continued to pummel into your tight heat, deep strokes along your velvety walls as he chased his own high, holding himself above you as he did.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, baby, I-" his words turned into a deep groan as his pace faltered, soon morphing into heady moans when you felt his warm spurts filling you up as he came inside of you.
His thrusts slowed as did your breathing until he slowly pulled out of you, laying himself down next to you and pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead as you melted into his embrace.
"I mean it, ya know. You're the one who's gonna be stuck with me, sweetheart. I'm not goin' anywhere," he promised with a simper. "Not without you."
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forever--darling · 2 years ago
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one of us | neteyam x avatar!reader
summary: when a person's life hangs in the balance, sometimes there is only one thing to do, one thing to ask of the great mother. a consciousness transfer, but the question remains: are you strong enough to pass through the eye of eywa? lots of feelings emerge as the only option left becomes the sole possibility
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader
word count: 11.8k
warnings/notes: finally, swearing, major angst, mention of sky people, mention of death, mention of an afterlife, lots of feelings (all mostly sad), crying, more heartbreak, with sad fluff, we're so close to the end (2/3)
series masterlist | one of us: part seven | requests are currently open for now
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All energy is only borrowed, never permanent, and one day you have to give it back.
It hadn’t taken long for Neytiri and Jake to make it to the camp, the pathway completely imprinted in his memory. He couldn’t talk the whole ride as the only thought that seemed to reach his mind was a suffocating amount of guilt. The same guilt that once had rotted away in his stomach years ago when he was still a dream walker, when the sky people had long since invaded Pandora, and when he was still working under Quaritch’s terms.
That guilt almost killed him when he gained the trust of the Omatikaya people. When Home Tree was destroyed, Grace was killed, and the great war brought many warriors home to their Great Mother. Not many were sparred and those that had looked to him for the answers, the mighty Toruk Makto. It wasn’t easy and often it took guidance from many to get him to where he was today but now here he was in that forest, that same perilous feeling overtaking his senses. 
He had known you were sick, not the full extent of it or how long it had been going on but he knew. Which meant as an adult, who had been watching over you, he was partly responsible. Responsible for the outcome of your life, the effect it had on his children, on his son, on his wife, on the people. He had let other commitments cloud his mind; the sky people, the new technology they were bringing back to the planet, and how they were getting closer to the village every day. He decided to focus on those things rather than checking in on you. Whatever happened he was partly responsible. As they stopped near the lab, the grey confines of it taunting him, he also knew where he was responsible, Max and Norm were too — if not more. 
Jake slid off of the direhorse, Neytiri behind him as he approached the large steel door coated in scratches and dents — it somehow stood in this environment and within these elements. Neytiri stiffened at the sight of it, every part of her screaming to rush back into the forest away from the very place she deemed as evil and foreign. She had no motivation to step foot into the metal box but the thought of you, the real you left her heart clenching in her chest.
Worry was the sole reason why she followed her husband, clinging to his back. It was that along with the fact that Jake would need someone to keep him grounded. As he stared at it, the cage it had become, he felt all of his frustration come to the surface as the terrified thought crossed his mind that you were dead. Raising his clenched fist to the door, he knocked, the loud sound echoing across the trees. 
The first compacted door opened and they moved inside. Neytiri felt her anxieties heighten as they stepped fully into a small compressing box. Jake stared forward through the glass of the second door, gaze locked on a human man standing in a white lab coat near the keypad for the door. He was so small, so weak, so angering. As the air decompressed in the box, the scientist clicked the keypad and the second door slid open.
Jake didn’t waste a moment. He stalked in there as if he owned the place. It felt so strange under his large blue feet after having once rolled across these tiled floors. The sight of the lab brought so many memories back to him; the link pods, the screens — so many memories, most of which he didn’t find comforting. 
Max appeared on the other side of the room in his own lab coat, a worried kink in his brow. At the sight of him, Jake snarled not afraid to use his intimidating statue as he walked across the room, “Where is she?” 
The demand was sharp, cold, and uncommon to be directed at Max, as he was one of Jake’s closest confidants for almost twenty years. Max blinked in surprise up at the Olo’eyktan, and at the sight of Jake in this space, he got his own flashbacks of the first day. The first day, all those years ago that Jake got his avatar. Oh, how things had changed since then. 
“Where is she?” he asked again, tone just as cold as it was before.
“She’s in the back room, but—” 
The two Na’vi’s pushed by Max, bending down as they moved through the doorway into a smaller more compact hallway. Max hurried after them in a state of panic as Jake refused to shut his mouth, all of his fears taking flight in ugly ways.
“What, you think I wouldn’t have realized what was going on? In case you have forgotten this isn’t my first rodeo. I used to do this and an avatar doesn’t just collapse like that unless a link process is interrupted or something is fucking wrong. So, tell me what the fuck happened!” 
The room opened up in front of them with a single curtain pulled over the area to provide more privacy. Jake could see the outline of Norm’s body behind the curtain bent down and saying something. Max unable to fully find the words to calm Jake down or provide an explanation other than the truth, plucked the blue curtain into his grasp and pulled it aside.
Norm’s head snapped up in their direction, his eyes widening slightly at the site of the two tall Na’vi within the lab. He was wrapping a blanket around your exhausted frame and as the couple’s eyes fell down to the wrangled weak body, both of their shoulders dropped in devastation. The harsh furrow in Jake’s brow fell away and he found himself gripping onto the doorway to stay upright. The sight of you brought an image of Grace in her final hours to the forefront of his mind and it was difficult to swallow.
You sat, your body stuck to the mattress, slumped down as if you couldn’t even sit up. Two or three blankets were pulled up to your chest where wires stuck out connecting to monitors nearby. Jake's ears flickered at the sound of their beeping and found that the numbers of your heart rate and blood pressure should have been stronger.
IVS were hanging up beside you, the large needle lined into your arm. Your skin was ashen, sunken in, all color completely drained with large purple circles pressed along the skin below your eyes. They were barely open and he wouldn’t have believed you were actually alive if it wasn’t for the twitch in your bony finger and the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. 
“She had a seizure while in the link pod. We were able to get them to stop but she is very weak,” Norm answered and stepped back from your crumbled form. One that felt less like you every day. 
“Oh, Great Mother,” Neytiri found herself crying as she moved forward and fell to her knees at the side of the bed. 
She wished to be anywhere but there, but the sight of you had masked all of the discomfort and the rage that was interlaced deep within her bones. Instead, all she could feel was the ache in her chest from the broken looks of her children at your avatar form that had been completely motionless in her son’s arms. She felt herself aching for the soul that was slipping through the fingers of Pandora. Her eyes took in the unfamiliar but familiar face and cried, tears welling up in her widened eyes. She found herself scanning your nose, your closed eyes, the high lift of your cheeks, and the shape of your jaw. It was you, without a doubt. 
Jake was able to find his voice again, this time with a newly added edge to it, “Why was she in the link pod in the first place?” 
“What?” Norm’s eyes narrowed in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Why was she in there?” Jake was becoming hostile at that point. “If you knew she was sick, if you knew it was this bad, how could you let her keep doing this? Especially with the strain that it already was putting on her weak body.”
“Ma’Jake, please,” Neytiri asked, her voice gently sweeping through the tension of the room, gaining the attention of his rigid eyes. She tilted her head towards you, and they all watched as your head lulled from side to side at the many voices that filled the room. Your breaths were shallow, taking up too much energy that you couldn’t even open your eyes. 
Jake lowered his voice slightly but the edge remained as he glanced back and forth from Norm to Max, “You should have stopped her.” 
“You don’t think we tried? You don’t think we didn’t say something to her every day, warning her of the risks, demanding her to stop?” Max became defensive then as he stepped closer to the towering figure of one of his closest friends. His eyes narrowed, the same worry that filled Jake’s, reflected in his own. “She is not a child anymore.” 
“You mean she’s not your child,” the Olo’eyktan corrected and just like that, all previous feelings were ripped from the room, leaving it in painful silence. 
Both Max and Norm’s heads dropped for a moment as a thought crossed their mind — maybe they hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe they should have powered down the system even if you ended up hating them. Maybe they should have done more to protect you even when you were never their child, their full responsibility to bear. Maybe just maybe even though you grew up before their eyes into a grown woman, they should have taken into account that it didn’t mean to cut you loose from support and guardianship altogether. 
Max shook his head, almost as if he was going to regret what he was about to say, “No, she’s not.” 
“She may not be yours or technically a kid anymore but when she is living under your roof, you need to have some responsibility. When she is living under your roof, she is still a child,” Jake sighed, feeling the anger start to dissipate as he sent another glance at you, at your human body. At the very body, he hadn’t seen in almost two years, not like this, not this small, this different. You had grown and would be nineteen in the next year and it showed — you had become an adult under everyone's noses. If only you had the ability and the time to make it. “How much time does she have?” 
“We can’t know for sure but based on her state and how weak she is… Weeks? A month or two maybe?” Norm admitted, the state of how he found you in the link pod still pressed firmly into the front of his mind. Your faraway gaze, rigid body, and trembling lips. Your lips shook as if you were asking for time to kiss you and grant you treatment. You were barely there and laying in that damn bed, you were barely there. 
“She doesn’t have a few months, not with the sky people invading. We could have serious trouble on our hands in two months. The sky people are coming, they are getting closer every day and I need a plan. A plan to protect my family, my people, and my land. I need a plan and I am not going to put a sick young woman in the line of fire. I won’t.”
Jake shook his head and stepped further into the room, looking around at the medical supplies and the neutral-colored walls. The sterile smell filled his nose. It all reminded him of the V.A. hospital when there was a big hole blown through the middle of his life. That’s what the lab reminded him of and it sent a shiver down his spine. You couldn't stay there, not like this. He wouldn’t allow it because whatever the fuck they were doing wasn’t doing shit. Even with medicine and science on their side, it had done nothing. He wasn’t about to lose another person because of his actions — he wouldn’t. 
“She can’t stay here,” he suddenly said, eyes set on his wife, “We can’t leave her here. I won’t.” 
Max stepped forward trying to get closer to you but Neytiri stood blocking him, “Jake, you can’t just—”
“You’ve done enough.” 
The two scientists’ mouths dropped, and both of their glares widened at the tall Olo’eyktan — a man who day one had never thrown caution to the wind in his life but since becoming a leader had taken on a new role to be deliberate in his actions, think accordingly, and communicate in a way to not piss other people off. It was like that persona was gone from that room for a moment and instead it was an overprotective parent who thought they had all the answers. He was bossy, haywire, and everything that resembled a father.
Somehow his cold tone and his rapid decision weren’t justifiable enough for Max. He had seen the impossible, and as a scientist, he had detested and forced himself to not believe it. Max had seen the impossible in Jake, in the consciousness transfer, in the balance of the world that had managed to change one man's life. He had seen the impossible with the Omatikaya people but at that moment with your life hanging in that very balance, he could only look to science, in the concreteness that was medicine.
“Jake, listen to me, she is sick. This isn’t just another dress-up game where she is going to run off into the forest to become something else. She won’t survive this.” 
“Are you fucking serious?” he snapped, eyes narrowing even further until they resembled golden crescents like the morning sun that crept through their tent every morning, “This has never been a game and you know that. To me, it wasn't and it sure as hell isn't to her. If you saw her out there, the way she is when she is in that body, you would know that. Except that I think a part of you already does, knows how much she wants it, and that scares the hell out of you. Especially since there is nothing else you can do for her, and it sucks. It really does... but do you hear me when I say we can do something? The people can save her.” 
“What like you saved Grace,” Max shot back, the words cruel and unnecessary and he watched as Jake’s face went slack. For a moment the short scientist reveled in the image, “I know it has happened, the unexplainable. Because what you witnessed... what happened to you was the unexplainable, but Jake that's what? A one in a million. You're the exception, we all know that, but she's not you. I don't like the odds, not when I have seen it. Her virus, her illness, and I am deciding to combat it with medicine. I am choosing science’s side.” 
Neytiri felt her teeth bare, sink into her lower lip, fangs glimmering from the white lights of the room. As a growl left her throat, she stepped forward protectively towards her mate, “And your medicine has done nothing. It’s done nothing!” 
At that point with two pointed gazes locked down on him, Max couldn’t help but glance your way knowing that every word they spoke was true. Any worse, you could be slipping away, out of their fingers, by the end of the week. If you hadn’t been getting better with the months of treatment they had been doing, the antibiotic and the fluids, what else could they do to help you? There wasn’t another option, and he knew right then science or not this was your last chance.
Norm looked from you to Jake and within that mutual stare, they shared an understanding, a silent understanding. Stepping forward, his palm fell to Max’s shoulder, “This is her only chance."
"Norm—"
"She’s not going to get better because she hasn't yet and you know that. This is her last chance. And yes, god forbid, Eywa forbid that it doesn’t work, that we somehow lose her... at least it will be on her own terms and in a place, she’d want to spend her last moments.” 
The words everyone had been avoiding were out in the air and it struck a chord, one that left them all in silence and complete denial. Only, because no one expected this. When you had been given your avatar six months prior, no one thought to think this is where you would end up, chained to a bed with the only thing to save you being that body. No one thought either that you would have fallen in love with the forest, the people, and the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan either, but you did. It happened. It all had happened and now it was beginning to unravel in front of them and suddenly they were being faced with a choice.
You were dying and the sky people were coming. Another war was soon to take place and Jake and Neytiri were making plans for the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam would be Olo'eyktan one day whether you would be there to see it or not. It all was happening and none of them would have thought that when it was, you would be in the middle of a whispered conversation with the Mother herself.
Max wiped his eyes from behind his glasses and sent one last longing look to you. You once had been the little girl who'd sit on his lap for hours staring at a digital image of an avatar's brain with complete awe. Now there you lay, all grown up and possibly about to get the life you had always wanted. Your choice had been made up about the life you wanted as soon as you had entered that avatar body. And your choice would be his choice.
“Just, if you’re going to do it… The consciousness transfer, do it sooner rather than later. If you want her to survive it, you will do it as soon as you can. She's already lost a lot of energy.” 
It was the last thing anyone said and as Jake nodded to Max, reassuringly, his tough-guy act dropped immediately. Almost like they had come to a mutual understanding: one father to another.
From that moment on, there was a continuous movement of people in and out of the room. All bustling as they worked to disconnect your monitors, pull out the IVS, wrap your body up in blankets to keep you warm against the cold air, and secure a mask tightly over your face. Then just like that, you were ready and leaving as if it was always how it was destined to be. You, leaving. Norm and Max each took you in for one last time as Jake and Neytiri exited the lab, both hoping they would never have to be there again.
Jake couldn’t help but stare down at you, so small in his arms, so unlike the warrior he had gotten the privilege to watch the last six months. You had transformed just as he once had, gaining the wings like an Ikran, and you would fly away, not daring to look back. Evident in the lingering glances you sent his son and how you absorbed every part of the forest, you would give anything to be transferred into your other body. Then more so as with each night you spent in the forest, in your avatar body, the longer you would stay awake. Like you were hoping to forever prolong the linking process to that one still moment in time. Now, after all this time, you could have it.
As Jake climbed on his direhorse, he heard the shift in your breath along with seeing the small tremble in your body — the first sign of movement he had seen at all. Glancing down at you again, he found your eyes softly staring up at him, through heavy lids. He glanced at Neytiri then back down at you, taking your tiny cold hand in his own. He stared at his five fingers and compared them to yours as your soft voice filled his ears. 
“Don’t let Neteyam see me like this.” 
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“She’s very weak,” Mo’at expressed, honestly as her fingers danced across your closed eyes.
From the moment you were brought back to the village, in your human form, it was like you were finally awake. Finally, seeing the world as more than a recurrent fever dream. It was a world you had only ever witnessed through another pair of eyes and someone else's skin. Somehow the forest had become so much more than a training ground to you over that time. However, you realized then, that no matter how many times you had seen it before, it would never top being able to see it with your own eyes. The ones you had been born with.
It was a dream that had been painted on your soul from the moment you had come onto this planet and as you stared up at the luminescent green foliage while you rode on the back of the direhorse, you felt as if your life was complete. Like Eywa was watching over you, reaching out her arms and promising you that whatever happened you would be okay.
Staring up past the trees to the black-coated sky littered with stars and planets, you felt a new kind of peace wash over you. Your breath had evened out and you blinked slowly, entirely entranced by the skyline scattered with constellations. The constellations that resembled the ivory spots speckled across his nose and his body. That's all you could think about — the ivory-speckled sky and how it reminded you of the glow that would overtake him at night.
Please, Great Mother, protect Neteyam and his ivory-scattered face. 
As soon as you got back, Neytiri distracted the kids, allowing Jake to get you to Mo’at without anyone seeing. Partly to prevent panic from appearing in the village, but mostly to stick to your one and only request. Don’t let Neteyam see me like this. Those six words served as a confirmation to Jake. A confirmation that once again only served the greater suspicion that there was more going on under the surface. Deeper feelings were involved here whether the two of you had admitted it, and Jake wasn't sure how he hadn't seen it before. But maybe he had.
The lingering gazes. The light touches. Neteyam sneaking out of the tent at night, for months. His attitude suddenly improving. He was always cautious around you when Jake was close by as if he was afraid of the Olo'eyktan connecting the dots from the softness he displayed to you or the look in his eyes, which was less than innocent. It all had been there but for months, Jake Sully had been turning a blind eye to it all. Despite his duty as Olo'eyktan to accept the arranged marriage that would be pushed onto his son along with all the other responsibilities, he let the interactions and the feelings play out in plain sight.
Now, he was going to willingly do what any Olo'eyktan would and protect the last wishes of a member of his clan. He was making a split decision based on the six words he never thought you would have openly admitted. That it was and always had been Neteyam for you. How it was the one son of his that had been promised a throne and a chosen future mate, the one son you couldn't have willingly. Somehow it filled him with a sense of deja vu, as if when he saw you he was looking at a mere reflection of the person he used to be. Alongside that, a repeated history. The outsider and the chief's chosen child. Somehow under all of his turning a blind eye, you and Neteyam had not only become Jake and Neytiri but were being torn apart for it.
For a while, Jake stood in the corner of the room, Neytiri appearing after a while closing off the tent from any onlookers. The majority who would have been her own children. She stood next to Jake, her hand comfortingly finding a place on his shoulder.
They had watched as Mo'at closed her eyes and let the feelings of Eywa guide her. She took in many deep breaths as mumbled words escaped her mouth in the form of tongues. Then just as quickly as it had begun, her eyes were reopening, leaving her meeting with Eywa as Jake liked to call it. She glanced at the couple before her and spouted what he could only hear as bullshit. She’s very weak. 
“Well help her goddamn it!” 
“Jake!” Neytiri hissed as the tone of his voice emitted not only a glare on her face but a chip in her tone. 
From outside the tent, four dark statues lingered in the dark, near the side of the healing tent. Light poured out of the bottom bathing Kiri and Lo’ak’s faces in slivers of warm light. They lay on their fronts, chins leaning along their hands as they held their breaths, desperate to unravel what they were looking at. They could only see the outline of their grandmother, the Tsahik’s side from the confined view they had. With Spider and Tuk sitting on the other side of Lo'ak, the eight-year-old hugged her knees to her chest in a state of confusion. When her parents left, she had spent the whole time berating her older siblings with questions about you — were you okay? What had exactly happened? Were you coming back?
All questions with answers none of the older siblings had.
Neteyam crouched on the other side of Kiri, leaning his ear close to the side of the tent, trying to understand the mumblings from inside. His heart had shattered and he felt as if he had been cut open, exposing everything he was feeling to the gaping air. It made his stomach twist at the thought and he was starting to feel sick.
The sight of your avatar collapsing in his arms was still very present in his mind — as well as how his father had avoided him the second he returned forbidding anyone from seeing you, the other you. Your human body and the current body that held everything that made you, you. It was hard to imagine you any other way. For six straight months, he was memorizing every detail of your blue features just in case his golden irises would be deracinated from his face. Now all he could think about was what you really looked like, what you were born to look like.
Lo’ak leaned closer to his sister, voice breaking and coming out in low mumbles, “What did she say?” 
“Shh,” she hushed back, bumping her brother in the side, harsher than she intended too. 
“She’s weak, that’s what Mo’at is saying,” Neteyam spoke up softly, the words acting as needles as they ripped holes into his skin, “She doesn’t know if they can save her.” 
Kiri glanced up at Neteyam and felt her shoulders drop disappointedly as his expression came to light for her. How pain-stricken he was and how utterly shattered his voice sounded as it echoed in her ears. She felt Eywa there at that moment, filling her entire body, as she witnessed firsthand how strongly her brother felt for you. It had blinded him out of nowhere and a pit formed in his stomach at how sudden it all was. Over time, that dread and that fear had drifted off into the wind as if they had rolled off his back while flying through the sky.
Then there was you. How you had become a slight wreck over your feelings for the future Olo'eyktan. She could still feel your own confession lingering in the back of her mind. How shy you had gotten, how ashamed you had been when she had found out you liked Neteyam, possibly loved him.
Somehow under all of the excruciating lectures, stubborn-filled disputes, and contemptuous glares, two souls had found one another, deep within the forest under the phosphorescent green of the trees. 
She blinked and looked away, letting the prospect of the two of you fade away, leaving nothing but an imprint of dust in its wake. They all instead directed their attention back to the tent, ears twitching in unison and tails swishing anxiously as their father’s voice filled the air. 
“She’s dying, don’t you see that? One of our own is dying,” Jake pleaded then, his anger melted away like icicles in the warm temperature and all that was left was a puddle of desperation and fear. “So, please help her. Do the consciousness transfer. Do it, if it means the possibility of saving her life."
As Mo’at glanced down from your shivering human form to the empty blue vessel beside you, she knew what he was asking of her. He was right and it would have to be in Eywa’s hands now. The very hands you had tried to get yourself in weeks ago when you appeared in the doorway of her tent pleading and begging for her to consider. To think about your request, ask Eywa to guide you and herself to an answer. Tsahik, without much consideration or even listening to Eywa's plan or will, denied your request. Even when Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, had once come to her with the same request, and even when she saw so much of him in you, including a strong heart, she denied the request.
When Mo’at looked at you, she saw a young woman. A young woman with all the reasons and desires in the world to ask for this request and to ask for the opportunity to change her life. Your soul's existence depended on the opportunity to live life fully as a Na’vi, and That’s why Tsahik couldn’t accept it. Your whole life.
A young and prestigious life she didn’t want to be cut short not when there was still so much time. She feared that Eywa’s will wouldn’t be what was hoped by the rest of the clan, her family, so she denied you. For fear of taking the light out of your eyes as well as the light out of her grandchildren. 
“She’s weak so we must do it tonight. The more strength she has the better,” she finally spoke looking from Jake to her dutiful daughter, “Alert the village. We need everyone, do you understand? We need all the support we can for this. An hour and then we go.” 
The couple, the clan's leaders, the two everyone looked to in a crisis felt the weight on their shoulders deepen. Anxiety formed, pushing down on their tracheas as it all began to feel too real too fast. But panic couldn't happen. Freaking out couldn't happen. There wasn't enough time for it and there sure as hell wasn't room for it.
Jake took Neytiri’s hand in his and walked towards the entrance of the tent, all strength, and will of his own feelings lost. As they stepped out, the tent's flap falling shut behind them, a rush of air fell from his mouth. Neytiri, able to feel his energy deep within her bones, wrapped her arms around his broad torso. Her chin found a place against his shoulder and they stared forward at the rest of the village, the forest, their home, and everything in between. They listened to one another’s hearts and stood there for a brief moment, letting their breaths linger into one before Neytiri unwrapped herself around him. 
As she did, they both were startled by the sound of rustling as well as a soft groan of a very familiar prominent voice. They shared a look with one another, communicating the same conclusion as they stepped around the tent to where the sound had come from. It wasn't a surprise to find their four children squatted and laying around in the dirt, ears pressed close to the tent. Suddenly all their movements stopped as they felt the shadows looming over them, blocking the moonlight and concealing them in darkness.
All four heads then tilted cautiously and were met by the scariness of their mother, who stood with a hip popped out and arms crossed over her chest. Her stare only hardened further when she found her youngest, no more than eight years old, sitting there, a pained expression on the child's face. Neytiri looked over her shoulder at Jake but he merely shrugged as if he wasn't surprised at all by the sight in front of him. He held his arms to her; a silent signal that he was leaving the situation for her to handle.
Inhaling, her lips parted, ready to scold them not only for eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for their ears but for letting Tuk hear every word, something she could barely process at her age. Before Neytiri could get a word out, she found her youngest staring up at her, large eyes widened with fear and sadness, bottom lip quivering.
Tuk’s eyes filled with tears and slowly began to fall, drenching her innocent face, “Is Y/N going to be okay? What happened to her?” 
The other three older siblings’ bodies stiffened unwillingly, ears dropping back while their own theories and assumptions were formed. But even with their thoughts and concerns, they all found themselves peering up to their mother, who seemed to be all-knowing and often had the right thing to say in moments like this. It was a mother's intuition and they all stared at her, asking for an answer that was far better than any of their own. They all held their breath as they watched the glare melt away completely from her face while she opened her arms welcomingly for her youngest child. 
“Oh, my prrnen (baby),” Neytiri cooed as Tuk reached up to be pulled up into her mother's arms. As her small innocent face met her mother's neck, her tear bubbles collapsed, letting her salty tears fall freely upon Neytiri's skin. “Know this, that whatever happens, Y/N will be okay. She will be at peace one way or another. I don't know what's going to happen, but that is not something for us to worry about right now. Our Great Mother has a plan and whatever comes of it, everything will be okay. Do you understand me, maite (my daughter)?” 
Hands rubbing softly at Tuk’s back, her gaze fell to the rest of her children and their anxious eyes. They looked to her as if a mother could solve the world’s most significant problems and she wished at that moment she could. She wished she could take all of your pain, all of your sickness, all of the limitations your body held away. She wanted more than anything with her children’s eyes boring up at her that she could promise you life to prevent their suffering.
“The ritual is in an hour,” Jake said then, gaining the three older children’s attention as he tried to wrap his head around how he wanted to handle this situation. He couldn’t bear the idea of them being at the consciousness transfer and watching with the possibility that it wouldn't work. He couldn’t watch every hope and every fiber of light in their bodies fade away at the sight of what could be a final send-off. “Whatever you need to do, I suggest you do it now because there is a chance you won't be able to later.” 
“Can we see her?” Kiri asked then, sitting up to hug her knees to her chest, voice pleading, “Please? Can we just sit with her and talk to her. Dad, I can’t go the ritual without having said—” 
“Fine,” he interrupted her, his heart constricting with grief at the sound of his daughter’s broken voice, “Fine, yes, you can see her. But none of you will be at the ritual. Do you read me? I don’t want you attending the transfer.” 
In perfect sync all of their eyes widened in shock, ears pulling back in dejection as their father's command fell straight into their laps. Lo’ak sat up quickly, in complete disbelief, “But—” 
“No, but anything. I don’t want any of you there, do you understand?” 
That edge had returned in his voice and Jake took two seconds each to drill his gaze into his children, trying to make it stick within their minds, so that no matter how many times the thought appeared to go against his words, the remembrance of his stone cold glare would stop them. He couldn't be sure that it would work, especially as he caught the look on Lo'ak's face. It was the same look he gave whenever he was given orders or asked to do something against his own troublesome consciousness. It was passive, him nodding his head as if he was listening though he never took anything serious his father said. It was the same exact look Jake was getting then.
“Do — you — understand?” 
He spoke slower and finally got the response he wanted. All three of his older children nodded their heads while Lo’ak verbally respond with, “Yes, sir.” 
Neteyam could only stare up past Jake, huffing quietly. It was loud enough to catch his father’s attention anyway. Jake narrowed his gaze down at his oldest but the young warrior wouldn't falter. Instead, Neteyam matched him with the same expression.
No gunmetal would warp at that moment as Neteyam felt every inch of anger and frustration ball together. The order for them to stay away during the ceremony left him astonished and pissed off. His father still saw them as children and felt like he had this responsibility to protect them. But other than Tuk, none of them needed his protection. They had grown up and that was something he obviously couldn't accept.
Somehow it only filled Neteyam with more spite because there was nothing left that needed to be protected. Every innocence had been stolen and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been treated like a child, free of any responsibilities. For years he had been viewed and trained like a serviceman, kept on a shelf until he was needed. His whole life he had been ordered around; Go pick up an extra couple of hours of training. Watch over your brother. Learn how to use a gun. Take on extra challenges with other warriors. Heck, marry and mate with a woman of our choosing.
They had every part of him. They had taken every piece of him and he had willingly let them. For years he had been ordered around as if he was incapable of thinking for himself. In reality, they couldn't afford him to think and make decisions for themselves because it would go against what was best for the clan.
Some things never changed though. He stood just outside the healing tent, where the Tsahik was trying to save the only woman he has ever had feelings for, and he was expected to follow commands again. He was supposed to let them put him back on the shelf and wait for further instructions. Your life was hanging in the balance and they were asking him to be absent from the ritual that would decide what would happen. He couldn’t do that.
His hard-set gaze met Jake’s, refusing to back down. He watched then as the Toruk Makto dismissed him and instead sent one more look to each of his children. He nodded in the direction of the healing tent, “Go on.” 
One by one, they all stood silently and began to approach the tent, with dread being the only thing evidently strewn across their faces. Neytiri slowly set Tuk down, wiping what was left of her tears, that motherly smile occupying her face as she watched the rest of her children approach the tent. As Neteyam stepped by them though, the thought of you the only thing guiding him forward, Jake’s eyes found Neytiri’s. She hadn’t seemed to understand what he was trying to say, but she turned to give him her full attention anyway at the obnoxious way he cleared his throat. 
Her ears flickered curiously then as his stare frantically began to flicker back and from their oldest son to her. Lo’ak and Spider had stepped into the tent with Tuk waiting by the doorway, clearly contemplating if she wanted to go inside herself. Neytiri then found herself looking at Neteyam who was getting close to the entrance. She felt the thought kick in at what Jake was referring to or rather what you had asked of him. Him was the key term, but Neytiri felt her brows draw forward on her forehead in exasperation at his clear hesitation. The Toruk Makto had no problem lecturing his sons until their ears bled but being able to break the worst news and offer comfort to them might as well have been foreign, especially in their older years. He was terrified of it and Neytiri found it utterly ridiculous.
As Jake didn’t show any signs of calling out to Neteyam, she huffed out and shook her head at her husband, narrowing her gaze at him. The words very bad were communicated vexingly through her eye contact. She sighed then as she called out to Neteyam, “Maitan (my son)!”
Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of his mother’s voice and just as his hand grasped around the tent flap, so close to where you were, he pulled back to face her. She waved him over, and with frustration and confusion, he stepped away from the tent. Kiri, who was just about to enter, noticed the interaction of their mother pulling him aside and decided to wait, in favor of watching the conversation play out instead.
“What?” Neteyam questioned, the sharpness of his tongue not unnoticed.
Neytiri’s initial reaction was to smack him upside the head for it, but she held back knowing the sharpness was nothing but a reflection of how he was feeling. He wasn’t trying to be difficult or disrespectful. He just didn't have the energy or the care anymore to be any other way.
Neytir's gaze softened, the same one she had spared moments ago as she clutched her youngest in her arms. Neteyam noticed it right away, the look she was giving him. He would never admit it, but he knew his mother better than the rest of his siblings, and at the sight of her eyebrows drawing together softly, he felt his stomach drop. The lines between them displayed feelings of stress and disappointment. She wore it across her face — how badly she wished to offer him the moon and the stars. 
As her hand reached for his shoulder, that’s when he figured it out for sure. Why she had stopped him from entering, her shared looks with Jake, the way she was trying to steer him from the tent. It all made sense and a low growl took everyone by surprise as he peered over his shoulder at Kiri and the opening of the tent.
When he looked back at his mother, he felt his fists clench at his sides, “She doesn't want to see me. That's what you are going to tell me, aren't you? You pulled me aside because she told you she doesn't want to see me. ” 
“Yes,” Neytiri admitted slowly. 
A pin dropped and within a beat of time, as if only a second had passed, Neteyam resurfaced but angrier and more annoyed than before. He stepped back out of her grasp, and her hand was left dangling in the air as his tail whipped back and forth aggressively.
“No. Fuck that!"
“Neteyam!” she hissed, taking a hold of his arm and yanking him back despite his best efforts to escape her. He didn’t dare overpower his mother though or do anything that would disrespect her. Instead, he let her hold his arm too tightly, while her glare drilled holes into the side of his head.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish more than anything that it didn’t, but who would we be if we denied her wishes.” 
Her wishes. 
She spoke as if you were already dead and he felt himself tense under her words, his entire body becoming rigid. He closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to breathe through the pang in his chest. To calm himself down, he held his breath deep within his lungs for almost a minute before he released it. When he did, he felt the heartbreak creep up within his body until it was past his throat and on the tip of his tongue. Then he broke right in front of her.
“Her wishes? Do you even hear yourself right now, sa’nok (mother)? You're acting as if she has already died and is with Eywa. How can you just... No, damn her wishes because if there is a chance that I could lose her I am not going to stand out here and let her... I can’t just stand here and let her go into that ritual without telling her how I feel.” 
“It was not my choice, ma‘eveng (my child),” she whispered cooly, as Neteyam was starting to appear frantic.
The choice isn’t mine to bear.
He clenched his eyes shut again, suddenly stained with the memory of you standing within the mauve tendrils, beautiful face barring every raw emotion of your soul to him. Tears suspended in your eyes for a second as he felt every possible pain rip open in his chest, a pain so horrible it let his flaws and deceptions take over. He had hurt you right back and he knew just as everyone once would that he was no warrior. No perfect son. No perfect soldier. No man worth bearing the sins of the world. Your words crept back into his mind.
Then I will bear it. 
Neteyam, the way I feel about you is consuming.
“This is fucking bullshit!”
Just as Neytiri was going to comfort her son, try and offer any encouraging words she could, she felt his arm be pulled from her grasp. He was stepping away from her and her motherly gaze that was slowly suffocating him. He stared hard at his father as he passed him, sarcastically thanking him for all of his help in this whole thing, before stalking away in the opposite direction of the healing tent, his family, and you. 
They all watched him go and Kiri found herself stepping away from the tent in favor of going after her older brother. She nodded at her parents reassuringly, “I got it.” 
She took off in his direction, picking up her pace to catch up with him. As Jake and Neytiri watched them go, she huffed over at Jake, crossing her arms over her chest intently. That worried line in between her brows had formed again as her mind began to ramble with questions if what she was doing for her children and her people were right. Neteyam was the one she thought about long and hard, wondering if what they were doing was right. She felt like she had failed him or rather they all had failed him. As no one had ever made it easy on him from the moment he was born. There was not one sole point in time where they considered things from his point of view, his life, his future, or how once he had been full of childhood dreams. Instead, they just deemed them as improbable outcomes.
It was as if Jake could read her mind, all starting from that stressful line on her forehead between her brows. “He can’t be there. He will never forgive himself if he watches her….” 
“And he’ll never forgive us if she somehow dies and we never let him say goodbye.” 
Kiri chased after her brother, letting her parents' voices fade behind her. Her eyes narrowed at him as he walked in front of her or rather stomped in front of her. His braids swung from side to side, his back muscles tense and rigid. She could see every twitch of annoyance and frustration in his form, displayed on his back like any true man would — never demonstrating it out loud or through words but rather through body language.
Picking up her steps, she called out to him but he ignored her as he made it through the village. He was making a move for the forest, but Kiri knew that if he did disappear into the lush greenery, who knew when he would be back. There wasn't time for it.
“Neteyam, stop!” she finally yelled, firmly grabbing onto his elbow and yanking him back. 
He hissed at the way her nails dug into the skin of his forearm and let his feet come to a stop. Staring forward at the forest, his means of escape, a loud sigh fell from his lips. Unable to push the pain off his face, he refused to look at her, and instead tilted his head to the side, his broken gaze falling to the ground.
“What? What do you want?” 
“You can’t just storm off like this,” Kiri admitted, slightly out of breath from chasing after him, “Not right now and not like this. We need to stick together when something like this happens, so you can't just leave. Because believe it or not, everyone looks to you as much as they look to Dad during a crisis. Your presence is important, now more than ever. That, and I don't think you should be alone.” 
Scoffing he shook his head, denying her admission. More so, he wouldn’t stand there and let her give him that same pitying stare his mother couldn’t wipe from her face. “The fact that you would use my future title against me right now, are you serious? Tell, me Kiri other than that the people need me why I should stay. Y/N doesn’t want to see me, so what’s the point?” 
“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Kiri’s hand fell from around him, suddenly feeling angered by his words and his tone as if he was brushing you off like it was the only thing he could do when around other people, “I mean what the hell is wrong with you? You can’t even admit that you have feelings for her, can you? Seriously? Nothing, at all? Neteyam, she could die, she could not survive this transfer and you still can’t fucking say it out loud.” 
His shoulders dropped, her voice cutting through him like a knife cuts through flesh, with resistance but then giving away. The more things she said, the easier it was to get through to him past the bullshit and the fear. Exhaling, he finally turned around to face her, his little sister, and felt his words get caught at the sight of how sad she appeared. Her eyes displayed every form of grief and anger, and it was all pointed straight at him. 
“I can't,” he responded, his confession wearing her tight expression away, “If I say it, it will become real. Everything these past six months will be right there in front of me. Every night spent together, every argument about her training, every reaction, and feeling she brought out of me. Except if I admit my feelings for her, it would also mean that I have to admit that I am losing her. I will be admitting that she is sick and dying, and I can’t accept that Kiri. I can’t..” 
Kiri stared up at her brother, eyes wide and wallowing in unshed tears as every friction and pause in his voice spoke to everything he was saying. He was barring a part of himself to her at that moment which he had never done before. He was looking past the perfection that was expected of him and let his insecurities ring out in the air and while it was killing him to his very core, a part of him felt relief. 
“Kiri, she’s not mine. She never was and I didn't have the thought to even ask. We could never be together so why even say anything to her, but I guess now, it doesn't even fucking matter, does it? All that duty and expectations bullshit means nothing because she is slipping away right in front of us. And now that I realize that, she doesn't even want to fucking see me."
She sighed, one that was brought out from deep within, as she took a hold of his arm again. This time gently almost like if she pressed any harder, he would break. Or he would get scared, sink back into his shell, and close himself off from the rest of the world.
“Neteyam—”
“What is that?” he shouted, pupils dilated and crazed as his eyes became drenched in tears, he wished would never fall. 
“Neteyam, please,” Kiri cried then, gripping his arm harder to get his gold eyes to lock with hers, to get him to calm down as his breathing was erratic pulling and prodding at his chest as if he were trying to self-destruct right before her eyes. “You need to try and understand what she is asking of you.” 
“I won't do this. I have to see her.” 
She shushed him then, his cries falling silent upon his tongue, “Brother, you have never seen her like this, do you understand that? For six months, you have only seen Y/N in her avatar body and as one of us. You have never seen her in this true form, in her human body.” 
“I don’t care about that, Kiri, you know that,” he replied, brows drawing down on his face as he tucked his bottom lip in between his front teeth. 
“Okay, but she’s also sick, very sick, and I can’t imagine that the last time she'd want you to see her would be like this. Not as this weak, shell of a person she doesn’t even recognize as herself anymore,” Kiri explained carefully, her tears starting to fall without her even realizing as she gripped harder onto Neteyam, “It sounds like she knows what could happen, what’s at risk here. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see you. It’s that, she would rather have the last time you saw her be from earlier. She’d be okay with the fact it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body because it would mean you would remember her that way, at that moment.”
Her words had struck him in the chest harder than any blow he had ever gotten in his entire life. It was worse than when he had collided with one of the floating mountains on his first Ikran ride, or the time when he had gotten the shit beat out of him early on his training days. It was even worse than when Lo’ak had beat the shit out of him hours ago. In fact, it felt as if it was worse than all of those things combined.
She’d be okay with the fact that it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body.
Neteyam bit down on his lower lip, reopening the wound that Lo’ak had put there earlier as every single word of that one sentence made him recoil. If the last time he saw you, talked to you, was in front of that tree screaming at you as you finally told him how you felt. The way I feel about you is consuming. No, it couldn't be. That would be complete and utter bullshit. He sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and let the last time you saw him be there, under that tree not only rejecting your heart but his own feelings. 
Neteyam had been selfless his whole life until it had come to you and he wasn’t about to return to the person he was before you, refusing to listen to his own feelings and what he wanted. At that moment he was choosing to be selfish, to choose himself and to choose you over some last dying wish. He knew it was wrong, so wrong, but it didn’t stop him from stalking the healing tent for the next half hour, watching as each person came and went. His bottom lip at that point was rebleeding and torn to shreds but he needed something, some sort of distraction from the fears that were starting to take over his body.
There were fifteen minutes until you were going to be transported to the site and another fifteen before the ritual would start. Neteyam watched from afar he as Mo’at walked out of the tent, her hands full and her gaze seemingly distracted. She disappeared far into the village and Neteyam snuck out from around the side of the tent he had been standing for nearly a half hour. Having the darkness to disappear into, he slipped into the tent unnoticed. With no one following him, he close the front lapels of the tent and turned slowly on his heels.
He felt his entire body freeze, hands clenching at his sides while his breathing suddenly sped up. Dim lanterns encased the room, emitting a soft glow and he felt all sanity escape him at the sight of the avatar body that had been in his grasp only two hours before. The only you he had ever known. It looked so cold without your animated expressions, that familiar pinched line in between your eyebrows, or the tiny divots of your dimples that appeared when you smiled. It was you and had been the you he had given himself to completely but at that moment it wasn’t you at all. Its eyes were closed and already having been prepared for the ritual, the body was wrapped up in blankets to be transferred.
His eyes then took in the much smaller form laid a few feet away from it, all bundled up, chest rising and falling with each deep breath that was inhaled. He cautiously walked forward and as the soft glow brushed along his face, he felt as if his body was at a standstill, all air pulled from his lungs.
Completely unmoving, he finally saw you for the first time — the real you and his entire world was shifted on its axis. You were all soft lashes, smooth skin, and glistening full lips. With your eyes fluttered shut, he wondered what color your they were, the opening of your soul. He wanted you to open them. He wanted to see if they matched the ones he had been staring into for six months. Other than that, the slope of your nose was smaller and your eyebrows were different, more prominent, and the markings on your skin were completely dissimilar to the ivory specks he was so used to admiring.
Somehow though, even with an entirely different person in front of him, you were entirely familiar — all of his favorite parts of you were the same, and just as you had looked earlier that night underneath the mauve tree, there in that tent and in that body, you were ethereal. And you were his even not officially, you were. Ma’ Y/N.
Tears once again resurfaced after the countless times he had reeled them back in that day. Slowly, he sunk down onto his knees beside you and listened to the way you breathed, trying to memorize the sound of it for as long as he could. Glancing down to your side, he found his eyes flickering with interest at the sight of your hand, limp across the blanket. Five fingers, smaller than his own, just as your other always had been. Staring down at it, he couldn’t help himself and before he realized it, he was reaching for it. Engulfing your smaller one in his, he watched as it slipped into his with ease as if it was meant to be there. He felt a type of warmth fill his chest then as your hand twitched in his. 
Tilting his head, he looked back up to your face and found himself taken aback at the sight of two small doe-eyes peering up at him. They were so elegant and nothing like he had expected but somehow he would commit them to his memory then and there. They scanned over his face like it was the first time you’d ever seen him and he felt his heart rate speed up when they had narrowed slightly. Your brows knitted together to bring back that pinched look he had just been reminiscing about seconds before.
The sight of you staring at him felt almost scrutinizing and based on that furrow in your brow and the slight frown that occupied your glistening and completely temptatious lips, this was without a doubt you. He knew then that it didn’t matter which body you were in, which form whether human or avatar, it would always feel like this. With you, he would always feel this. 
“Hm, so this is you. Well it's nice to finally meet you, Y/N Y/L/N, all of you," he said suddenly, voice low and so soft it comforted you in more ways than one.
A few moments ago when you had felt a sudden pressure on your hand and the warmth of calloused skin, you couldn’t help but stir from the sleep that had suddenly overtaken you. You didn’t know who to expect when you opened your eyes, but it definitely wasn’t Neteyam. You never thought it could be but as you looked up and adjusted to the light, sure enough, it was.
He was there, staring down at you just as clearly as he had been in the forest among the mauve tendrils of the Tree of Souls. At first, you couldn’t deny how the feeling of his hand wrapped around yours resembled a hug and all the consolation in the world you needed. However, despite the affectionate look about him you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there. How he could have been there when you deliberately had said he wasn't allowed to be. You didn’t want him to see you like this and definitely didn't ask for him to come and see all your insecurities looming over you just before the consciousness transfer.
That was when the annoyance set in, evidently by the furrowing together of your eyebrows and the downward curve of your lips. You stared up at him, not knowing if you even had it in you to speak to him. He chuckled out, hand squeezing yours, feeling as if you had captivated him completely at that moment.
“Look, I can tell by the way you're staring at me right now, that you're angry I'm here."
Your lips parted as if you were going to reply, and you watched as Neteyam leaned closer as if he needed to hear your voice. The reassurance that it was still you in front of him, the same person. But as you inhaled, he could feel the way you were struggling to even do that, breath.
"Nete— "
His hand squeezed yours again, reassuringly, his unshed tears were so clear to you then, like uncut glass in the soft lighting from the lanterns. “No, don't. Don't say anything. You have already said everything you needed to. You had your chance, now it's my turn. It’s my turn to talk.” 
With his eyes earnestly staring down into yours, you exhaled the breath you were holding and let your chest relax, parted lips closing with ease. You nodded then, letting the pinched look leave your face as if you were alleviating his anxiety with it. It was his turn then to breathe, his words jumbled across his tongue, adding weight to his mouth as he couldn’t dare look away from you. Finally, as you offered him an encouraging smile, he felt all of that weight be lifted off. 
“Look, I know you didn’t want me here not like this and especially not now, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wouldn’t do that to us, Y/N, because you deserve more than that,” he said, stumbling slightly while completely worried that everything was coming out wrong. But based on how it felt so right in his chest and the tears gathering in your eyes, he knew it was more than enough. "I don't know what's going to happen but I do know that you deserve more finality than that because you're everything. How you make me feel is everything and I just needed you to know that.”
His eyes were soft, looking at you as if it really were true, that you were everything. That you were the entire world, his entire world. Fully in that tiny spindle of time, it was like he was finally unveiling his entire self to you — every piece, sliver, and makeup of who he was was reflected in his eyes. No more walls, no more guarding or holding it all inside. There at that moment, it was the real Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan staring back at you. 
Curling your lips into a small smile, not enough to show your teeth, you could taste the tears that were slipping down from the inner corners of your eyes, finding a place within your smile line. With batted breath, you watched his eyes trace them to only find yours again. Relief filled him at that moment at the sight of them streaming down your face because they weren’t a sign of heartache, grief, or mortification of the situation. Most importantly they weren’t a reflection of fear or doubt about what was to come — it was as if you were completely content in your point in life right there with his hand wrapped around yours. No, what was inevitably laced within those pretty tears of yours was a complete abundance of love.
Neteyam felt as if that look had reached past his chest, taken the pieces of his heart graciously and purposefully, took them, and then, with the warmest touch, put them back together again. It was like Eywa’s plan for him wasn’t to become his father’s soldier or to save the Omatikaya from the invading enemies. His will, his purpose was to be here with you, like this. 
Leaning forward, you felt his palm connect with the side of your face, cupping your cheek like he had wanted to do so many times before. His thumb brushed along the glass of the oxygen mask and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and release more tears. Reaching up, your small hand circled around his wrist and held it there, able to feel his pulse under your fingertips. His eyes flickered to the touch before they found yours again and he suddenly couldn’t help himself any longer, not when he was finally able to see everything so clearly. 
He cleared his throat, voice overcome by emotions as a single tear of his own slipped from the corner of his eye and down into his upper lip. It was the first tear he can even remember touching his cheek in years — a tear that had and always been promised for you.
“I see you.” 
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise while the breath you had taken in felt like it had gotten lodged in your throat. More tears escaped from yours but your smile didn’t falter, not for one second, and you knew if that was the last thing you ever heard, you’d be happy. If it happened right there in his arms you could be okay with that because his words had somehow sanctified your soul. Sounding different, sounding so much more than when he had said it earlier that morning willed every bad thing away. In fact, it was everything, he was everything. 
You squeezed his wrist in your hand as you stared up at him, eyes gleaming like it was the first and last time they ever would, “I see you.” 
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It was iridescent, the only way to utterly describe the sight. Mauve tendrils of neon light bathing skin in light as the forest's phosphorescent green pulsed beneath the people's bodies and feet. Pulsing to the heartbeat of their Great Mother. Pulsing in sync with their swaying bodies and stifled groans. It all reached deeply within their bones; her and her power. They cried to her, prayers and pleas kissing their tongues as the bioluminescence of the ground was prominent where their queues were connected.
Before Mo’at within the tendrils and the night sky, the atokirina was coated in white and floated in the air above in swarms. Thereupon the pulsing ground of the tree with bulging roots, two bodies lay wrapped within the confines of Eywa. The neon green phosphorescence rectifying as the Mother accepted the two bodies on her beloved soil. Evidently how the small fingerlike tresses of the ground lifted and wrapped around each body, grounding them completely. The same tresses that connected each person there to the entity of Eywa. 
“The Great Mother may choose to save all that she is in this body,” Mo’at spoke, watching the tresses grow across the avatar’s body eventually pulling the queue further into the ground creating a direct neural link to the back of your human neck. 
Eyes fluttered to a close, and you were finally relaxed, instead listening to the sound of your slowing heart. Norm stood in his avatar form near your human body with Neytiri as Jake sat on the other side next to the form they all hoped you would wake up in. His fingers brushed the strays hair out of its face and glanced over at your human body, taking note of the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He shared a look with Neytiri, a shared look of worry as both of Mo’at’s earlier words hung in their heads. She is very weak. It only brought flashbacks of Grace and filled him with the worst dread. That feeling was only exemplified when the ritual began. 
Everyone bathed in the green light, connected arms, all being interlinked as one with Eywa were able to feel her as well as each other. They slowly listened to Mo’at’s words chanting out in the air and repeated them in synchronism back at her, eyes closed focusing on the feeling channeling within one another.
“Ting mikyun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok (Hear us please, Great Mother).” 
Mo’at raised her arms high into the air, “Srung si poeru, ma Ewya (Eywa, help her).” 
“Pori tireati, munge mì nga (Take this spirit into you),” the crowd chanted back rolling their necks and their shoulders as one back and forth. 
No matter how many times Norm and Jake had witnessed the ritual, it still left them too stunned to speak; the overwhelming sensation of the voices in unison, the connection of the neurons through the ground, and the overriding presence of Eywa. It all was so much to process even more so while trying to pray to Eywa herself. To ask for forgiveness, for mercy, for her to return you even when you were weak and sick. Ask and beg that she give this one thing to all of those that loved you.
The phosphorescent green reflected back in his eyes as he glanced down from you to your human body now completely covered by tresses leaving barely any sliver of real skin showing. Mystified he watched as the atokirinas floated down from the sky and with the lightest touch surrounded your avatar body — the purest souls watching over you and serving as a positive sign of what he wished to believe.
Finally after what felt like hours of chanting and praying, and looking into the sky for Eywa, Jake felt his attention shoot up to Mo’at. He watched as she spun in circles, arms flailing in the air, eyes rolled to the back of her head, repeating the Great Mother’s name in constant tongues. She could feel her and she could hear her. He was focused then as Mo’at’s voice grew silent out of nowhere like a switch had been flipped. Her eyes returned to normal, her arms dropped to her sides, and her voice fell quiet.
Glancing down at the two bodies before her, she raised her hand to the rest of the people, her voice loud and commanding, “Lu hasey! (It is finished).”
The crowd became silent and all as one found themselves holding their breaths as Mo’at bent down examining your human body closely, her hands raised over your face. Jake held his too as Neytiri stepped forward, hands dropping to the mask around your face. With the uttermost delicacy, she reached forward and pulled it up and off, the sound from releasing the compaction was a gust of air. She laid it down on the ground next to your body as her eyes swept across your beautiful young face, relaxed, gone of any pain.
Her large hand cupped your face; like a mother, she leaned down and connected her soft lips to your forehead, right above your eyebrow. A maternal comfort you had never known or experienced, something Jake had mentioned often to her over the last half year. She let her lips linger a little longer, channeling all of her affection and devotion for you, offering it to Eywa. 
Leaning back her eyes opened again and her hand left your face with one final touch. She looked up to meet her husband's eyes and Jake felt the anxiety worsen in his stomach as she offered him an ensuring nod. He took a deep breath and looked down at the young avatar before him. He leaned over it, tracing every point of its face with his eyes, her ivory-kissed skin, and long eyelashes.
It was the same face of the young woman Jake had had the pleasure of knowing over the last six months. It was the young woman, he felt had become a part of his family. The face of the woman who had captured the attention of his children and left them astounded after seven years of knowing you. He looked down and saw the face of the woman who had managed to get his eldest son to fall in love. It was the face of you, the young girl who had been entirely and always enraptured by this planet and this world — a woman who was always meant to become a part of the Na’vi. 
His fingertips ghosted over your cheeks, the lightest of touches as the atokirinas could be seen all around you. Waiting and waiting, he felt his breath and hope leave him all at once as seconds passed and then a minute. He felt the time frame leaving, falling to a close, and his heart sunk into his stomach. Glancing up at Mo’at expectantly, disappointed, she urged him back down to you with a simple nod, asking him to wait a second longer.
Live or die?
One of us? Or one of them?
Letting his head tilt back down to you, Jake held his breath, his pointer finger brushing against the skin right below your eyebrow, delicately. His gaze zoned in on yours so seriously, he felt his throat well up waiting, begging Eywa. Just as his pinky pressed along your skin, the pair of eyes popped open, coating his sight in yellow and gold, flickered with specks of the lightest green he had ever seen.
one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.
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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago
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of perilous desire
chapter one - se mōris (the end)
vampire!Aemond x f!reader (modern AU)
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story synopsis: the reader works the night shift as a receptionist at the local hospital. Someone comes in one night to drop off a patient, and she subsequently suspects that this person is pursuing her. Why is there no real trace of him anywhere? Why does she see him in her dreams? Here begins a craving that may be never be satiated, a desire so perilous it might cost her everything...
word count: <1k ▪︎ masterlist
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The night is young.
You've just made your third trip to the personnel break room, filling up on a much-needed caffeine fix, slumping back in your swivel chair in a bored huff.
It's 3 in the morning, which means you have four more hours to go. Oh joy.
Working in the hospital is decent enough; it pays the bills, it keeps you from being unemployed. But it feels like it's supposed to be a transitioning - a jumping off point into bigger and better things. When you were a child, your dream certainly was not to be a night receptionist at a hospital. But it's been a year, and you are still here for some reason.
Were you stuck? Perhaps you have grown complacent? You're meant to be doing something else, something worthwhile, and you know this. Granted, you do help people to some extent, but nurses and doctors are the true heroes.
Anyone with a semi-decent high school education can do your job.
The coffee is stale, and it suspiciously tastes of the antiseptic that is always in the air. You drink it anyway, grimacing with every sip.
The tap tap tapping of your pen against the desk distracts you, and it must have kept you from noticing the new arrival.
"Excuse me."
You snap up, half in a daze, the coffee doing nothing for your alertness.
And you see him. Clad in all black - leather overcoat, leather shoes, well-pressed trousers. Long white-blonde hair flowing smoothly down his back, neatly kept away from his face. One eye a blazing purple, the other a ghostly white. He looked like something out of the gothic romance novels you used to read in middle school.
Unusual. Poised. Beautiful.
You have to swallow hard in order to find the strength to speak."How... how can I help you, sir?"
"My... friend," he says, coolly maintaining eye contact that it's almost unnerving. Or maybe it's the effect he has on people, looking the way he does. "She needs some assistance."
"Oh," you stand up, looking behind him and seeing the woman slumped on the bench in the waiting area. Leaning against one arm, with her black hair partially obscuring her face. She blinks as if in a stupor when the man glances at her, smiling goofily despite her state. "Is she alright?" you ask him, and he doesn't answer, only continuing to stare at you. You press on the paging system, calling on a nurse to come her aid.
You come over and crouch down in front of her. "What's happened? Can you tell me your name?"
She giggles wildly, like you just cracked the funniest joke. "My name is Alys," she says. "At least I think so." You notice her pallid complexion, her lips taking on a bluish tint. She appears to be awake but not truly aware of her surroundings.
The nurse on duty is taking a while, so you turn back to the man. "What happened to her? Does she have a concussion? Are you her husband or a relative?"
Seconds pass. You look at him expectantly, but he gives you nothing. He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing, like a predator sizing up his prey.
"Hmm," he finally makes a sound, though it isn't really a response.
Growing impatient, you stride behind your desk and recover the necessary forms. "I'm going to need you to fill these - "
When you turn to address him, he's gone.
One of the nurses, Patrick, arrives to assist the woman called Alys.
He goes through the motions, flashing a penlight in her eyes, checking her pulse, asking her simple questions to keep her conscious.
"She came in alone?" he asks you, as he waves another nurse to come help.
"No," you shake your head, "her companion was just here. A man - "
"What man? Did he run away or something?"
Did he? He had seemingly vanished in a split second, and you were sure you didn't hear him rushing out the front doors. You didn't hear anything at all.
"I don't know," you shrug, confused. "He didn't even fill in a form or anything."
The nurses manage to situate Alys in a wheelchair, the dark-haired woman still smiling and mumbling to herself. Just as they wheel her away, you hear her soft voice crooning, "Ae-mond, oh, my Aemond!"
"Well, shit," you mutter, the momentary commotion had come and gone. The coffee still sits on your desk, now cold. The air still smelled of sickening sterility.
You were still, as dramatic as it sounds, lost and adrift. You snort to yourself. What a thought.
If only you could have your head in the clouds, all blissed out, like the Alys woman. Though her state was likely brought on by hard drugs.
Or was it him?
Everything is the same. Except that the stranger has become ingrained your mind.
Who was he?
An hour later, you stand outside in the portico, cigarette balanced between your fingers. It's a nasty habit, sure, but people would probably be shocked at how common it is among the hospital staff. The nurses, even.
You're supposed to feel terrible about it, working at an establishment that champions health, but you justify it in that you're just a receptionist. Weren't the medical professionals the real hypocrites? How else will you keep awake?
The smoke billows out of your lips. You watch their shapes dissipating in the cold morning air, entranced.
Suddenly, you sense something shuffle from the corner of your eye. Shivers erupt all over your arms, your mind immediately grasping at the worst possible scenario.
"Hello?" This is how the side characters die in horror movies, quickly and unceremoniously, forgotten before the main act actually begins. Your shaking hand squashes the cigarette down on the wall-mounted ashtray.
It was probably nothing, likely one of the stray kittens running around. Despite that, you determinedly walk back to the entrance, fists bunched in your pockets.
Then there's something again. A gust of wind. A flash of pale blonde hair. A feeling like you're being watched.
Is the entrance so far? You're going to get kidnapped, you're sure of it.
The doors are in sight, those lifeless glass windows within reach, when you're spun around swiftly that you don't have time to think of anything at all.
You're floating, your feet had left the ground.
Pushed into something smooth, cocooned around your paralysed form. Leather.
He hushes you, brushing his lips against your cheek, featherlike, careful not to make full contact. You want to fight, you should fight, but you can't.
Something coaxes you into accepting this, so you do.
The painful prick against your neck is momentary. Followed by complete and utter bliss.
Your final thought is the word Alys was singing so sweetly. That strange name, which now exits your lips like a prayer.
"Aemond."
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taglist*: @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @sprinklesprinkle888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @angel6776 @different-tale-student @world-of-bitchcraft @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid--person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa
*refer here to be tagged in hotd works; comment below to be tagged in only this fic.
a/n: me 🤝 running with new ideas before even finishing my ongoing series works!!! I've always wanted to do a vampire Aemond fic. Call this a tester/taster (literally, in Aemond's case). Let me know what yous think, and we'll see how it goes!
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hellokittyyyysblog · 5 months ago
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𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷/ part 2
Pairing: vampire!𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -
You couldn't sleep all night. Tossing and turning in bed, every small detail of the previous night played on an endless loop in your mind. The window into the world of the supernatural had been thrown wide open, and nothing could have prepared you for the realization that everything you had read in books as a kid was real. But the revelation wasn’t enough—you wanted to know more, needed to know more. The red-haired woman who had saved and threatened you consumed your thoughts. Who was she? What was her story? How many were there?—These thoughts kept you from sleeping until you eventually drifted asleep due to exhaustion.
The day after your chaotic brush with death, the office was abuzz with an uneasy energy. No one knew why there were cops on your floor, but the sight of one of the cleaning staff wrapped in a shock blanket painted a grim picture. Despite your own innocence, you were racked with guilt. You knew the truth about Davis, and only you could provide closure for his friends and family. But if you said anything that resembled the truth, you'd die. So, instead, you listened carefully, curious as if someone would remember that you'd been in Bowman’s office the night before. Though if no one said anything, the cameras would likely enlighten the detectives.
Your mind drifted to your red-haired savior and would-be killer. She said she'd come to you again, and though you knew nothing about her, you felt it was wise to trust her word. You wondered and hoped she'd at least let you beg for your memories. You didn't like being able to remember the fear you'd felt, and your survivor's guilt was creating a hole in your stomach, but it was real. You wanted to know the bigger truth: humanity wasn't alone, and supernatural existed.
The knowledge struck you cold with something akin to fear, but you wanted to cling to it. Now you understood why people in horror films made terrible and irrational decisions.
Naturally, as you thought about the existence of vampires, you began to daydream about the way the redhead had stood before you. Her skin was flawless, her green eyes piercing into your soul, her jawline appeared as though meticulously crafted by an artist, and her lips were plump around the fangs you assumed had ripped into countless humans. The woman in her fitted black outfit had carved a space out for herself in your mind, and you doubted she intended to. Even in your confused terror, you had made a note of the vampire's form.
It was embarrassing how being in extreme peril couldn't thwart your libido. You'd heard something about fear response and sexual response being quite similar; you hadn't paid much attention, but you grabbed onto the idea to make yourself feel better about lusting after who you sensed was an incredibly dangerous being.
"No one's seen Bowman" a woman whispered interrupting you from your noisy thoughts.
A voice from the adjacent cubicle replied, "I’ve heard the night staff found a body in there. Could be his.”
Though you weren't a part of the conversation, you followed the instruction all the same and looked towards the elevators reliving the haunting and life changing events of the previous night.
Suddenly, Ava snuck up behind you by touching your shoulder "Did you hear what happened?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "Jesus , Ava, you almost gave me an heart attack” you confessed putting on a fake smile— “uhm yeah I heard people murmuring about the night staff finding a body" you replied, feeling the weight of the lie. You felt bad for lying to your friend, and lying about something this important, but you couldn’t say a word to anyone. That was the price you had to pay for knowledge. And if that included a dreamy redhead, then you were more than willing to pay that price.
Ava nodded, glancing around nervously. "I talked to Louis, and he knows nothing either."
"That's strange" you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I wonder what's really going on."
Before Ava could respond, two people with 'Coroner' jackets wheeled a gurney in the direction of the office. Immediately, it struck you as odd. As far as you knew, there were two dead bodies to be found. Your mind began to theorize as to why only one body would be left behind and whose body it might be.
The HR manager and building manager stood outside Bowman's office, frantically whispering to each other. Then, a man you'd only seen in emails and charity events emerged from the office with a hanky over his mouth. If it was a crime scene, surely he, the CEO, shouldn't have been in the middle of it. He looked like he regretted going in—if it was in the state you assumed it was, you didn't blame him.
Though he'd never set foot on your floor, he waved his hands around for everyone's attention. An officer emerged behind him to add effect.
"While I am sure that you are curious as to the events of this morning, we are going to ask that everyone goes home at this time."
The officer put his hand up to add, "Stay in the area; do not leave town in the next few days." They were going to interview people, but they didn't know who to call first.
"So no one is going to tell us what is going on?" A voice pressed.
"You will learn the important and relevant information as we understand more" the investigator replied. He really couldn't tell you anything because any information would have to be reported to you by the company board, and they loved to play keep-away with facts. You'd likely be the only one who ever knew the truth, and you only knew some of it—the cops may never know the disturbing reality behind it.
Though there was grumbling and whispered questions, your coworkers did not wait around. They gathered their belongings and left willingly—they didn't want to stay and work when they could be dismissed for something that concerned someone else. Selfish but nosey people, you thought.
"Do you need a ride home?" Ava asked you, concern etched on her face.
"Don't worry about it" you replied. "I have errands to run anyway"
"Alright, but keep me updated, okay?"
"Of course” you said, forcing a smile —"talk to you later."
You waited until Ava left, then made your way to the restroom. You knew you'd never hear the whole truth about Bowman's demise from the higher-ups, and perhaps that was for the best. But acknowledging this didn't satiate the curious feeling. Whose body was going into the body bag, and what happened to the other one?
As far as plans went, the one you devised was comically simple: stay in the restroom and wait until the cops took a break. Then, you'd steal away into the office and do some investigating of your own.
The restroom was quiet, save for the occasional drip of a faucet—you paced back and forth, your mind racing with possibilities. You couldn't shake the feeling that something important had been left behind, something that might give you more insight into the mysterious red-haired vampire’s world.
You bit your bottom lip as you remembered the hallway cameras. Nothing would make you seem more like a person of interest like sneaking into a crime scene. Maybe you could lie and say that you'd left something inside the office, something that would show that you and Bowman were having an affair. It was a gross lie to imagine, but people loved a scandal, and presenting an 'embarrassing' story might get you out of suspicion.—everyone loved the chance to gossip—But the more you considered it, the less you could live with the lie.
Getting caught couldn't be an option. You had to be careful.
Minutes felt like hours as you waited, ears straining for any sound that might indicate the coast was clear. It was close enough that you could hear the louder officers. Of course, it was still difficult to know the actual moment the scene was left unattended.
Your head began to rob with tension, for something that seemed so simple, it felt increasingly impossible.
It took twenty-three minutes for one of the beat cops to loudly announce that they were breaking for coffee. You counted ninety seconds and then you emerged from the stall—you washed your hands—you hadn't actually used the toilet, but you'd flushed—which meant the noise had to be followed up with the noise of a faucet. It was expected bathroom ambiance. You'd seen how movies went, it was the little things that got people caught.
The moment you entered the hall, you saw something that would change your plan for the better, the absolutely better. For lying on the floor, was a cop’s badge. Some careless detective, Jonathan Herrera, had dropped his badge. His loss was your gain, but you'd think about the incompetence of your local police department another time—a lost badge gave you a reason to double back to Bowman’s office.
Sure, you might appear nosey in the process, but you'd have the badge to return so you'd be a nosey do-gooder.
"Hello?" you asked cautiously, making sure that you weren't entering an occupied crime scene.
You were hyper-aware of the cameras at your back. No one was watching you, but all it took was a rewind button to rat you out. You did your best impression of someone who didn't want to do exactly what you planned to do.
No response—you didn't know if you were relieved or upset that you couldn't be stopped.
Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to Bowman’s office. The scene was far less horrific than it had been the night before. The blood on the desk and floor had dried, and the coroners had already taken the body and any additional remains. If it weren't for the smell, you could pretend you were seeing a painting session that got out of hand. What really struck you was the singular outline that laid upon the desk. It was Davis’s outline— it marked where you'd seen him. Bowman’s body must have been missing if he'd been killed there at all.
There would have been larger stains for a body's worth of viscera explosion. The absence unsettled you and shoved more questions into your already spiraling curiosity.
Before you could tumble too far down the rabbit hole, the desk began to vibrate. The sound was unmistakable— a phone was ringing somewhere in one of the drawers judging by the way the vibration was muffled. You could hear that the phone was bouncing around against wood.
Police were meant to thoroughly search a crime scene. Clearly, the ones assigned to your workplace case had missed something. You wondered if it was the responsibility of the man whose badge was still in your hand.
You hurried to the desk and found that the drawers had all been opened and rifled through.
Papers and pens were askew. The police had searched the desk, yet the phone, which you assumed was Bowman’s was still somewhere to be found. The muffled vibrations seemed like they were coming from the long drawer directly underneath the center of the desk. Carefully, you felt underneath the drawer with your fingertips. It was very likely that the cops had done the same move, if it was obvious to you, it was likely routine for them.
Nevertheless, they had missed something— and something that was so well hidden had to be noteworthy.
Stilling your fingers, you felt the vibrations coming from the underside of the desk. Yet as you looked, you saw nothing. The drawer had a false bottom. When you placed your hand on the inside of the drawer, you could feel the vibrations underneath the wooden board. They were strongest near the back joining of the drawer. Again, you wondered about the usefulness of the police in your area. However, once again, police incompetence was working in your favor.
You felt a catch, a small hole that was just big enough to be felt by your fingertip. By applying a little pressure, you triggered the false bottom to shift slightly. The shift revealed the seam of a small panel. Quietly, despite the noise from the phone bouncing around, you slide the panel to the side. There, underneath in a small secretive pocket, was a phone. Whoever was calling, they were serious and Bowman didn't have a voicemail set up. You turned the phone off and stashed it in your pocket. In addition to the phone, a money clip was sitting inside the hidden compartment.
You took that too and without remorse. Bowman’s had threatened to kill you, the money clip was deserved—Or was it? nobody deserves anything after all; it’s simply a matter of who’s willing to go and take it for themselves. No one is just a victim or a victor. Everyone is somewhere in between. People who go around casting themselves as one or the other are not only kidding themselves, but they’re also painfully unoriginal.
Feeling that you had a live bomb in your pocket, you knew you needed to leave the office. Any other spoils would have to go unclaimed. You were certain that you had the jackpot anyway— a secret phone in a vampire's desk was sure to have all sorts of juicy information for you. Even if your memories were wiped, you'd have proof in your possession waiting for you to learn once again.
You sped towards the door, fully prepared to seem 'confused' and 'in search', but you nearly collided with a detective. He instantly frowned, but luckily for you, you recognized him—his face was in your hand. "You!" you said excitedly, though you wanted to vanish into thin air.
You brandished the badge. "I was looking for you. I found this" you handed the item to its rightful owner. At that moment, you realized how to turn suspicion into guilt; some of you're more overbearing family members would be delighted. "I didn't want to leave it with just anyone because I'd imagine it's pretty embarrassing to lose your badge.”
You laid it on thick, eyes wide in false innocence like the liar you knew you could always be. The detective hurriedly took the badge from you with a hushed ‘thank you' and a soft smile. After that, you both went your separate ways. He had a job to do poorly, and you were meant to be on your way home, a place you genuinely wanted to be.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
It was there that you were able to snoop through Bowman’s mystery phone. The money clip didn't actually hold money. There were some tickets or passes inside, to something you knew nothing about.
What you found on the phone on the other hand, made you immediately regret snooping, but the more you discovered, the more you realized that you had found a way to keep your memories. Not only did you believe that you had found your saving grace, you believed it could keep you in contact with the red-haired woman. Time flew by as you imagined the possibilities. You never saw yourself as a sidekick, but perhaps it would suit you. You hadn't been this interested in someone since high school. Yes, you have had your share of crushes on boys and girls, but you never acted upon them. You were never interested enough to take it further than friendship. You weren’t that interested in knowing about people's lives—but now, you suddenly were. But this wasn’t a crush you reminded yourself, this was just you being reckless and wanting to discover things that didn’t belong to you—to your race.
"Human" the voice was like a purr, but the sudden noise made you jump.
You looked up to see that at some point, the red-haired vampire had entered your apartment. At first, you stammered, wanting to figure out how she'd achieved the feat, but your attention was stolen by the way she stood before you. Wearing a black leather jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans and black boots. She was confident, and you could practically feel the power swirling around her. You knew it was appropriate to be afraid of such a woman, and you were, but you were also captivated by her very existence.
"I have a name" you replied, hoping she'd inquire. You assumed, based on nothing, that it would be harder to kill someone if you knew their name. You wanted the woman to know your name.
“I would assume that you do, but it is unknown to me, so I call you what I know you to be."
"What if I called you 'Vampire'? It seems offensive." you say.
"Only because that is a name given to us by humans and not what I call myself" the woman replied.
Her eyes glanced around the room, studying your living room.
"Wait how did you...aren't I supposed to invite you in?" you asked—certain that you'd heard the rule many, many times. And if it appeared in countless stories and films, it had to be based on something true.
She arched a brow. "I've never understood that one" the woman replied, "as if my legs are bound by a spoken statement. I go where I please. I did tell you to expect me." She walked around the room, touching your things as she clearly studied you. Then she stopped at your library, taking in all of your books. Your most precious possessions.
"How old are you?" you asked abruptly, surprising yourself.
"This is rude" she replied. "You have someone into your home for the first time, and you ask them, 'how old are you?'"
Though her tone was fairly light, you wanted to apologize. Many people would have taken offense to such a question. You'd been impulsive, and it made you nervous that any additional poorly asked questions would put a preemptive end to your plan to endear yourself to the vampire woman. Your jaw began to fumble at the words of your apology.
"The less you know about me, the better." she said whilst she picked a picture from your bookshelf—you watched her look at the photograph with a quizzical expression. It took you a whole ten seconds to spit out another invasive question.
"Do you show up in photographs?"
"Why would I take pictures of myself? So others can find out that I don't age as they do? Why would I do this to myself?" she asked.
"But you could? If you wanted to?"
"You've been watching the fairy tales, darling" the woman said, slightly chiding you in her faint Eastern European accent. The pet name made you flinch. It sounded so good coming from her mouth. Okay, that’s enough. Control yourself, you thought.
"Have you also considered why you were able to see your boss during the day? Surely that must have given you reason for concern."
"Yeah, I did actually. Why is that?" you asked while she stopped examining your household and came near you.
"Human" the vampire said firmly. She seemed unwilling to offer you any genuine or in-depth answers. "You do not seem like a person who has changed their mind."
"Well, about that." You clutched the phone in both of your hands. "I got a hold of Bowman’s phone. Not the one he used for business, but one he had hidden in his desk, in a secret compartment. You would think the police would have found it before me, but they didn’t." you said with a proud smile.
The woman was next to you, the phone in her hand before you could utter another syllable. You spoke to her as you remained at her side. Even the shock of her speed didn't deter you—you wanted to stand beside her. It gave you the opportunity to really take in the features of her face.
"He's been in contact with others. They've been rounding up humans to trade for a fighting ring, and what I'm assuming is a slave trade. If you're worried about sloppy vampires getting found out, this is probably something you'd want to look into" you said.
By the way the woman looked at you, you could tell that she wasn't buying your selfless informant act. "How did you find this?"
"I told you…he had a secret compartment in his desk."
"Why were you in his office?"
She asked something so simple, but you didn't have an answer. You didn't want to lie, but the truth would sound so bad. You'd seem so desperate. You tried to modify the reality to save as much face as possible.
"I was curious to see what happened after I left."
"Please do not make me read your mind" she said arching her left brow again, apparently she seems to do that often, and you seem to notice every small thing about her.
"I’m telling the thruth" you grumbled, as your hand began to rub a phantom neck pain—"I needed to know what happened. Even if it was just for a little while. I went in, and then I heard his phone from some unfound place in his desk. You may not know this about us humans, but we're often slaves to our own curiosity."
Again, you left out the part where you studied the phone like a possessed woman in order to find a bargaining chip. However, you could tell that she knew. Even if she wasn't reading your mind, she could tell you were gearing up to negotiate.
The redhead sat down on your couch—despite meeting her less than twenty-four hours earlier, you'd pictured her on your couch many, many times.
"We knew he was reckless, but this is new information. I do not recognize all of the names here; this is most likely purposeful." The woman looked up from the phone and saw you standing.
"This is your home, sit" she said, smirking at your hesitation. And you did. You followed directions to sit on your own couch. "I assume you want to make a trade for this information"
"You assumed right" you confirmed, "But, I don't want anything tangible. I'd like," You took a breath, "I'd like to keep what I've learned. All of it, I don't want you to take my memories away".
The woman looked at you, she really looked at you. This made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and oddly hopeful. She hadn't immediately told you off for your attempts at being crafty. That had to be a good sign.
"I could take this phone, your memories, and you'd know nothing" she admitted honestly with a small grin.
You fell silent, unable to even hear your breathing.
"Why do you wish to keep this knowledge when I can feel your fear?"
"Truth is truth, and I want to know the truth even if it's terrifying."
"I have seen what this knowledge does to humans, you would not like it. You would assume anyone who acts a certain way is forever living and therefore a potential threat. You'll think you ought to convince someone else so you feel less alone with your information. This knowledge will devour you."
"But at least it would be my choice to make" you responded honestly.
“This knowledge, these truths, can put you in the path of things far more dangerous than you realize; and this knowledge will never be enough for you. You will crave more.” She says with a stern look.
"The truth may set you free, but first it will shatter the mirror you hold to your soul." you murmur with a soft fake smile.
Natasha arches her brow and lips curled into a mischievous smile, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
“It’s a quote from..” before you could finish to explain, Natasha cuts you off “Oscar Wilde, ‘The picture of Dorian Gray’” she interjected smoothly, her tone nonchalant yet laced with subtle amusement. “I noticed it on your shelf earlier”
Her confession caught you off guard, making you realize how observant she truly was. "You noticed?"
“Of course, I notice many things, darling”
Her teasing nickname and confident demeanor added to the mystique that surrounded her, realizing that Natasha's keen perception extended far beyond her supernatural abilities. She was not just a vampire with god knows how many years of experience but someone who paid attention to details that others might overlook.
"Well, I suppose you do" you murmured, a mix of fascination and admiration coloring your voice.
Natasha leaned back against the couch, her gaze holding yours. "So, about your insistence on getting involved..."
You closed your eyes and sighed, "I want to remember for me. If I utter a word of it to anyone else, I give you permission"—you shouldn't, you really should have kept your mouth shut— "to do what you do...to me."
"Kill you, you mean." She murmured whilst another smug smirk appeared on her face. It was almost as if she was enjoying this way too much.
You nodded with a cringe. The woman's face was unchanged as her hand reached out to you.
Gently, she curled her fingers under your jaw and traced your chin with her thumb. Her hand was cool to the touch, but not cold like you assumed she would be. Her eyes were deep pools of green that made it impossible to think of anything else but her presence.
You stopped breathing as her eyes penetrated yours, her fingers gently caressing your chin, sending a shiver down your spine. You had never felt like this, this vulnerable. Her touch was a paradox, firm yet tender, shattering your preconceived notions with every passing second. You would think a vampire wouldn't be this gentle, this soft—but now you realize how little you actually knew about her, and vampires in general. Maybe this was just a facade—you wanted to know more about her though; you ached with an intense desire to truly know her.
“Breathe” she murmured, a soft smile curling at the corners of her lips.
You exhaled sharply, realizing your body had instinctively halted your breath, captivated by the spell of her touch and gaze.
"Human, you're asking for far more than I think you realize. But I will honor your request for now. You did right to give this to me." Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest in an extremely dramatic way. "I will take this information back to my people. Did anyone see you get this phone?"
"No, and only one cop saw me in the office. But I had a good excuse to be there"
The woman didn't seem like she approved of the news, but made no efforts to chastise your behavior. She didn't need to, you could feel her disproval. She stood up from your couch, phone in hand. "I'm going to take this. Leaving it here will only draw attention to you. And I worry you may not have been as elusive as you would like."
"You don't know that" you said with a small frown.
Assuredly, the woman replied, "I do." She headed to your front door. "I will be in touch."
"Do you think...I should be worried about the people Bowman was texting?" You asked, trying desperately to seem less concerned with the possibility than you were.
"Yes." She didn't mince words. "But I can take care of them."
Your stomach flipped in your abdomen. "How will you know? How can I get in touch with you?”
"So many questions. You're asking me to trust you, human. I am asking you to do the same without asking so many questions with answers I will not answer."
You said your name, just your name. If the woman was going to return, and if she was going to be concerned with your well-being, she needed a name, and so did you. "That's my name..."
"Figured”— “You may call me, Natasha" she said looking at you intensely one more time, and then she left. She offered no, 'good-bye', but at least you'd gotten a name; a name as gorgeous as she was.
Upon realizing that you had one final question, you hurried into the hall to catch Natasha before she departed. But the door had been a formality, and you found no trace of her.
It didn't matter; by the sound of it, you'd have a few more chances to ask Natasha about herself.
And she would have plenty of opportunities to refuse to answer any your questions.
- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -
Note:
hello!
this was originally part of the first chapter, but it became too long, so I've decided to split it into a second chapter.
please, let me know if you have something to suggest or to say, because i have literally no idea of what im doing. lol. This is my first attempt at writing after I don’t know how many months or even years…aaand English it’s not even my first language, soo pls bare with me, I can be very paranoid:)
xx
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atinystraynstay · 9 months ago
Text
Double Take - Lee Chan
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Synopsis: Dino was convinced dating was just swiping on a dating app, going out for a diner, and maybe getting further than that before being ghosted. It was just the perils of dating as a young adult. There was just something different about you though.
Pairing: Non-idol!Lee Chan x fem. reader
Genre: "her first everything" girl meets the "first nothing" boy
Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡
First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: does contain descriptions of anxiety - please make sure you are taking care of your mind, body, and soul. If you ever need someone to vent to, my DMs are always a safe space 🩷
Dating in your 20s is not as glamorous as they make it seem in the movies. First dates sometimes flourished into second dates but quickly fizzled out. Or it sometimes was someone you were interested in that just turned into a one night stand.
While sure, there times that Dino wished he had a more solid connection with someone. But he was in no rush to settle down and get married.
Going to college helped Dino not only helped him find his passions in life but also found confidence in himself.
Maybe that was one positive to come out of dating apps? It made Dino feel good when he could swipe on someone and it was an instant match. He hated the moments where he would swipe on someone he found attractive, but would be stuck waiting to see if there was a mutual attractive. And sometimes, he would forget about who he swiped on because there would no ping indicating they swiped on him.
He never thought of himself as the most attractive guy. Honestly, he thought was more average than anything else.
But the moment he found himself in the bed of someone, he felt more reassured in himself. The more that people wanted him, attempted to gain his attention, he felt better about who he was as a person. I mean, college is all about self growth anyways, right? Dino's learning just happened beyond the classroom.
"Trying to find another date?" Seungkwan teased. "More like he's trying to find someone to fuck since he's getting lonely at night," Jeonghan added in.
There were times Dino regretted signing a lease with Seungkwan and Jeonghan. This was one of those times. The two of them thought fondly of their younger roommate, so they often lurked over his shoulder.
"Oh! She's cute," Seungkwan commented.
Hearing his friend, his head turned and narrowed his eyes at the culprit. He suddenly moved his phone close to his chest to gain some sort of privacy. But that was a big ask in this house especially with how close the three friends were. Jeonghan, being the menace he is, moved his hand around to move the phone away from Dino's chest which caused Dino to jump.
"Can I never have anything to myself?" he whined. "She's normally not your type, but maybe we could use a change?" "We?!" Dino gasped.
The two guys laughed before they moved away from the younger boy to go elsewhere in the apartment. Now alone, Dino did take a moment to look at your pictures closer. There were a few photos just of you. He found himself smiling at the way your eyes nearly closed when you were smiling wide. You also had a few pictures with friends at different events.
His thumb then pushed upwards on his phone screen, so he could look deeper into your profile. I have to know who she is.
The first thing he noticed was your name, 'Y/n," he murmured under his breath. It rolled off this tongue so eloquently. He also noticed that you were only 2 miles away from him.
Part of him wanted to stop and just swipe. There was always an element of mystery that came to first dates. Dino's favorite part was when he got to ask questions, got to learn about the other person. Yet, there was something urging him to keep going. After all, looking over your profile could give good talking points.
What sold the deal was your bio - "looking to experience something new 👀"
Intrigued, Dino swiped right on your account. And automatically, fire emojis skyrocketed from the bottom of the app and covered the screen. It's a match! was written across the screen as it brought up your profile with the ability to message you now available.
His fingers typed at lightning speed. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face at the presented opportunity to get to know you.
"I've never done this before. Wanna grab dinner tonight?"
You were at home, binging the reunion of Love Is Blind with your roommates. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon which of course required getting snacks from the grocery store, doing face masks, and a bottle of wine. All of your phones were placed on the table to minimize distractions
While all your roommates and you had different schedules, binging reality TV seemed to be the way you were able to come together. Everyone's eyes were watching the confrontation between two of the contestants when suddenly all eyes shifted to the coffee table once someone's phone lit up.
Specifically, your phone.
"Oh my god, guys! Y/n matched with someone on Tinder," one of your roommates called out. "And they messaged her."
And just like that, Love is Blind was forgotten about. Your third roommate reached for the Amazon Fire Stick remote to pause the Netflix show. All eyes then flickered from the coffee table and you. Never before had you been glad for a face mask to cover your face to hide your rouging cheeks, knowing that will only result in further teasing.
"Relax, you hyenas," you called out. It was as if they were holding their breaths until you read the message.
You typed in your password since your Face ID was not able to recognizing your face with the sheet mask on. The extra stop practically caused your roommates to shake with anticipation. You couldn't deny. You shared the same excitement, as you have decided this year, you were intentionally investing more in dating.
It's not like you had chosen before to not date. It was just something that settled on the back burner. You had always hoped to meet someone more organically, like at the coffee shop or on public transportation. Something out of a Hallmark movie. But that's not how reality worked. When you did meet someone, it was always overwhelmingly flirty which made you instantly retreat from the situation.
Yet, you couldn't deny the happiness you saw from your own friends and roommates when it came to their dating life. Oddly, even if it were a bad date, you wanted to feel the rush of getting ready for someone. You knew that in order to date that would require you putting yourself out there and being vulnerable. Your own saving grace was knowing your morales and not falling victim to social pressures.
Even if it meant not matching with many people because you wanted to take things slow, you would be content as you search for your perfect person.
Dino sent you a message
And maybe that was Dino.
There was no denying the smile that curled onto your lips at the name. You found the name adoring, peaking your interest. Your clicked on the message to read it.
"I've never done this before. Wanna grab dinner tonight?"
Your eyes widened which caused your roommates to lean in closer. The two right by your side let out a gasp, as the other two were practically going to pounce on you. However, you were too preoccupied with looking through his profile.
It took everything within you to maintain your composure, even if you wanted to squeal and kick your feet at the potential date. There were a few photos taken when he's been out to dinner. One in particular that caught your eye was him in a black tee shirt with a silver chain around his neck. Hello big arms! He had a softer face with a sharp jawline. Something about him seemed so friendly, making you even more willing to take the leap of faith.
"Come on, y/n," your one roommate begged. "We want to take a peak on tonight's bachelor."
You rolled your eyes before giving in and showed them his profile. One by one, your phone was passed around. Yet, after each person, there was a wide smile which indicated a sign of approval from your roommates. They knew that it took someone special for you to say yes, but it seemed like Dino had unlocked it just by sending a simple message.
"So what's the verdict, y/n? Are you extending a rose to Dino?"
What can you say? You guys really do love reality TV shows.
Without responding, your fingers went to work on the keypad of the app.
"Yeah, that sounds great! What's your favorite type of food? You can pick the restaurant as long as you meet me there at 7pm."
6:55pm
Dino had a routine when it came to first dates. Of course, he would shower first. He then would pick out an outfit that looked good but also one that was comfortable. Sometimes, after sitting for a while, he disliked the way certain jeans felt and he didn't want to be too squirmy in the chair across from his date. But he didn't want to dress too casually that might give the impression he was putting in little effort into this date.
For tonight, he opted for a pair of baggy jeans, a white t-shirt, and a tri-color cardigan. It was approaching that time of year when it might be a bit warm when the sun comes out, but gets a bit chilly still when the sun sets. Plus, he suggested going to a Mexican restaurant in between the two of you, so he knew while it might be a laid back setting, that he still looked presentable.
He had driven to the restaurant, since taking public transportation would take a bit too long especially since the restaurant was not even 20 minutes away. It was still light out too, but he knew when it was dark, he also had the opportunity to drive you home in the event you opted not to drive.
With his wallet and keys in his pockets, he approached the front entrance of the restaurant. It was a bit crowded for a Sunday night, but honestly, Dino didn't mind either way. He was admittedly excited that he was going to go out with you. Before leaving, Jeonghan and Seungkwan hyped him up and warned "she seems like a good girl, don't scare her."
There, indeed, was something different about you. Dino just couldn't put a finger on it, but that also made this date exciting. He's never had this level of interest in someone before.
As he approached, he noticed you were standing up front waiting for him. He couldn't help but smile at the gesture but also pick up his pace, not wanting you to be left waiting for long. Your thumb double-tapped your home screen, showing the time. Your noticeably let out a sigh before picking up your head. With a slight turn of your head, you made direct eye contact with him.
Dino couldn't help but notice the way your shoulders relaxed. Was she nervous? That's adorable. He wouldn't be rude and comment on it. He was just meeting you after all, and he wouldn't be so mean to embarrass you. Talk about a bad first impression.
"Hey y/n," he said as he approached you. "And you must be Dino," you smiled.
Gosh, her voice sounds angelic.
He never knew of someone who's voice matched so well to who they are as a person, but that wasn't the case with you. You were dressed so elegantly. Nothing too outlandish - just a pair of jeans and a rainbow colored sweater that looked light enough to be worn in any type of climate. You looked cute and breathtaking at the same time. A real life angel.
"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," Dino apologized.
He reached behind you to open the front door, nodding his head for you to step in first. Your cheeks flushed quickly which caused Dino to smile brighter. "Thank you," you said before walking in. Dino let you take a few steps ahead of him before he joined in behind you. He kept a respectful distance, so you didn't feel uncomfortable but enough to indicate to any patron you two were together.
"Hi! I called earlier for dinner for two? The name is under Lee Chan."
The hostess nodded before looking down at the booklet, her finger acting as if it was guided to her name. Once she spotted his name, she grabbed the sharpie and crossed it out. She then proceeded to grab two menus before turning towards the two of you. "If you will follow me."
You glanced behind him with a wider smile this time. "You made reservations?" "Of course! I wanted to play it on the safe side."
It was such a tiny gesture but one that surely made your heart flutter. You never knew of anyone calling this particular restaurant for reservations, let alone anyone make reservations for the two of you. Knowing that Dino had been that thoughtful made you feel special. That had to be a tell-tale sign of the type of person he was. It just reassured you that this indeed was a good decision, even if it was spur of the moment.
You two were led to a booth along the wall. You were able to people watch if you desired, one of your favorite things to do. But it also offered enough privacy for the two of you to really get to know each other.
"M'lady," Dino said jokingly.
And he's funny! You giggled before accepting the menu from him. Being a bit nervous, you did look over the menu online before the date. You weren't trying to put too much weight on this date and all that it could potentially lead to. However, you still wanted things to go well.
"So? I gotta ask, is your name Dino or Chan? Or is there some secret third option?"
Dino couldn't help but laugh at your question. It was a fair question, and he knew that he would have to provide some context eventually. Lowering his menu, he wanted to be able to make eye contact with you. He didn't want to be rude!
"So, my full name is Lee Chan, but my friends call me Dino." "Dino," you said to yourself, smiling. "Why do they call you that?"
He smiled fondly at the memory of how he gained his nickname.
The menu was fully resting on the table, not only because he had made his dinner selection but because ehe was now fully invested in the conversation with you.
On the receiving end, the attention was a bit overwhelming. You were not so accustom to someone you were interested in making such direct eye contact with you. It only intensified the butterflies you felt in your tummy by his conscious choice of body language.
Yet, it wasn't something Dino just knew to be good manners. Plus, after one date when he looked all over the restaurant instead of just focusing on his date, he learned that's one way how you don't secure a second date.
"Well, believe it or not, y/n, I was a shy guy. Especially when I first was starting college? I could barely say hi without feeling nervous. But I guess as I experienced what it means to be in college, put myself out there, I started to gain more and more confidence. Eventually, my friends started to notice and said I was like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, just bursting into the room and getting everyone's attention with my loud energy."
You nodded gently as you listened to him, smiling. You wanted him to keep talking to you, about himself. It helped take some of the pressure off of yourself, but you also were genuinely interested in Dino.
"Well, it is a very fitting nickname. Cute, I like it." "Cute like me?" Dino winked.
Immediately, your cheeks turned bright red as you tried hiding behind your menu. Dino couldn't help but chuckle more which only made you want to sink further into the booth, to hide. Was it a pitiful laugh or did he find it attractive?
God, what have I gotten myself into?
The waitress was your saving grace. You didn't have to come to some lame excuse or be subject to Dino's line of questioning quite yet. The waitress also coming around to take your order allowed the blood to subside from your cheeks. You wanted to try to be this cool and mysterious, to leave a good first impression. But honestly? You felt like a fish out of water. This was a brand new experience for you, and you were beginning to think you were too over your head.
Were you even ready to date? How does one even know if they are ready or need more time?
Once your orders were placed, Dino and you handed your menus to the waitress before she left you two alone. Here we go.
"So, y/n, tell me about yourself," Dino asked before taking a sip out of his water.
Okay! An easy question! Perfect.
You sat up a bit straighter in the booth, becoming a bit self conscious of your posture. At least from everything you've heard and seen about dates, even the tiniest things can make or break the date.
You told Dino about how you recently graduated college in the winter. Recently, you took the leap to move the city as your job was switching from remote to a hybrid model. You also needed the change of scenery, which has helped you want to put more roots down in the city.
Dino was impressed with your sheer perseverance. It's never easy to say goodbye to what you now and venture into the unknown, but you proved it was possible.
"Wow, that's really incredible. Good for you, y/n. I moved here with two of my best friends, so I cannot not imagine just making such a big move. Do you live alone?" "Oh no, I have like 5 roommates in our three floor apartment. It really helps." "So like a little family?" "Definitely feels like that sometimes," you laughed.
Truly, you held your roommates close to your heart. Not only did things work out for a good living situation, but they were the first friends you made in the city. They helped you through the homesickness you felt by letting you openly talk about life back home, or push for you to cook some of your favorite meals for them to try.
They also were big supporters in your venturing into dating. They offered many tips into how to date safely and allowed you to ask questions without judgement. They also were clearly very excited you took a chance of Dino rather than running in the opposite direction.
"So is that why you're on the dating apps? If you don't mind me asking, do you find yourself ready to date in a new palce?"
Well, he was half-right.
"Yeah, I think I'm ready to finally open myself up in that way. Moving and getting used to my surroundings really took a large chunk of my time." "No, that's completely understand. I've come to learn you need to be satisfied with yourself and other aspects of your life before being vulnerable with someone else because someone can really shake things up." "Well, for better and for worse."
He smiled at your optimism before nodding in agreement.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, when was your last relationship? It sounds like you have some past experience."
Dino couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't really at the question himself, but the experiences he has had with dating were a bit comical. You frowned a bit, worrying that you asked the same question. He quickly stopped though to offer a gentle smile.
"Sorry, it's not you. Some memories of past dates came flooding in," he explained.
Well, that's more than I have, so you couldn't wait to hear them. Maybe they were just as funny as some are on the sitcoms you liked to rewatch?
Yet, you couldn't help but wonder if your very limited experience would be a deal breaker.
"What about you though? If you don't mind me asking," Dino said, restating the exact words you said to him.
It was meant to be comforting, but it made you all the more nervous. I guess it was the moment of truth.
"If we're being honest, I haven't been in a serious relationship before."
As you spoke, your tone was softer than from how you had previously carried it throughout the conversation. Dino couldn't help but frown and feel his heart chip a bit. Going on dates and then dating someone was always exciting, so he felt empathetic that you hadn't quite experienced that type of emotions yet. And he also felt sad that people had done you wrong.
"People suck," he murmured. "I'm sorry that you've been out with people who didn't take the time to realize how lucky they were for meeting you."
Your eyes widened at his words. You opened your mouth to clarify but you were so thrown off by his words. Luck? He thought it was a good thing meeting me? A complete stranger? You bit the inside of your cheek to try to rid of the creeping blush on your cheeks. This guy was too sweet to you.
"I mean, I felt like I was lucky when I found out you swiped on me," he confessed.
Now it was Dino's turn to blush. Your eyes widened but you couldn't help but smile wider. It was endearing to see him get a bit shy, almost like he was revealing the past version of himself. You were truly the lucky one that someone had just wanted to spend their Sunday evening with you.
"Trust me, I felt the same way. Even more so when you asked me. It was an easy yes."
Dino's ego came soaring back a bit. He knew the hardship of dating in college and trying to form authentic relationships. What he found himself wanting to do now was give you the best that he could offer to you.
"So is that what you meant in your bio when you put that you are looking for something new?"
It was as if in that moment you could hear glass shattering. Reality had come back into full swinging, shattering any sense of hope you had. There was no fighting the truth because it always finds a way to reveal itself. God, I just want to be eaten by the floor.
"Actually, yes and no?"
You sounded unsure of yourself. Yet, not wanting to jump to any conclusions, Dino kept a smile curled onto his lips. The way he sat was relaxed yet he was leaning in slightly, showing you that he was ready to listen to you. It was a silent way of encouraging you to speak, if you wanted to that is. Honestly, Dino just appreciated that he was with someone who seemed genuine rather than someone looking for a free meal or just to sneak off to the bedroom afterwards.
"So yes, this," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "is new to me. I've never gone on a date with a guy I matched from Tinder."
As if Dino's ego could grow anymore. You took a chance on him? You decided to try something new, to experience something different from your day-to-day all because you saw his profile? And that himself decided to take a risk and message you? Damn, he just won the damn lottery.
"But dating in general is new for me."
Woah, pause. You've never dated someone before? His eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly.
All you could do was sit there as began to panic. Oh no. Everything around you felt like it was coming tumbling down. And to make matters worse, the waitress showed up with your dinner plates. She set them down in front of the two of you respectful. The awkward tension literally being cut by the sound of sizzling meats from Dino's fajitas and the steam rising into the air.
"Let me know if you two need anything else!"
I need you to help me get out of this nightmare.
"Sorry," Dino said, clearing his throat. God, he felt awful. He could actually see the way your heart shattered at his reaction. And the thing was that he didn't even think it was a bad thing. He was just surprised because he was under the impression that everyone his age just dated around and that it was awful.
Time to do some damage control.
"I'm just surprised. I know it can't be because guys weren't throwing themselves at you. I mean, you are absolutely breathtaking," he vocalized. "But you really never have been on a first date? Ever?" "Never ever," you said, laughing nervously.
Now he felt the need just to get to know you, but also be protective of you. You truly were an angel in every sense to him.
The remainder of the date was smooth. It was as if disclosing your little secret helped you feel more relaxed. It also helped that Dino didn't come from a place of judgement. You did end up asking him what all he had experienced, and he admitted that it was quite a bit more.
But it seems like the thing you two were searching for was an authentic love connection. It was something Dino has gotten close to experiencing, but only scratched the surface of discovering.
Dino was the absolute gentleman during the date. He made sure you had enough water, that you were enjoying your meal, and that he even paid. That was something he wouldn't let you dispute. You weren't expecting it either, which also took Dino by surprised. He figured it was just first date etiquette that the man pays. Yet, you've heard too many horror stories from your roommates and TikToks were the guy doesn't even over to pay his half.
He even offered to drive you home. You were hesitant, for which Dino than at least offered to order you an Uber back to your apartment. But feeling guilty of him spending more money, you agreed to a ride back to your apartment. He allowed you to put in your address into the GPS before you relaxed in the passenger seat.
Never before did Dino think there was something special about a person riding passenger seat. Now, he wanted you always to be by his side in this sense. He loved glancing over whenever he rolled up to the stop sign or stopped at a red light that he could see you.
There indeed was something different about you, and Dino felt it. You were unlike any other woman he's been with as you seemed to want to invest in someone, to create something unique. You made him feel as though all those trials and tribulations of dating were all worth it if it meant it led all to you this whole time.
Coming up to your apartment, Dino parked the car. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him get out. It all clicked though when he walked around to open the passenger side door.
"You really are a gentleman, huh?" You said teasingly. "Hey, I'm just making sure you get to experience everything you've missed out on."
You smiled brightly at him before gently getting out of the passenger seat. And this time, you didn't hide your blushing cheeks. Dino loved knowing that he could elicit that type of reaction out of you, and he wanted to do it more often. Hopefully he's done enough to get you to consider a second date.
Once he made sure you were on the sidewalk and away from the door, he closed it. Slowly, he began walking you to the front door of your row house apartment. It was as if he didn't want the night to end. Neither did you.
"So," he began. "How was your very first date?" "It was everything I could have dreamed of and then some. Thank you for your kindness, Dino." "Anything for you, angel,' he confessed in a hushed tone.
Angel. I could get used to that.
Sooner than you two would like, you arrived at the steps of your apartment. Turning towards each other, you seemed like a lost for words. Especially you. What do you say to a guy that seems too good to be real? While you were hopeful he would want a second date, you wanted to be realistic. You couldn't fight the thoughts of your anxiety creeping in - what if he was only kind because he felt bad for you?
"I had a great time tonight, y/n," Dino began.
You were more than happy to let him take the lead on any sort of closing statement. Your racing heart and mind just was anticipating a 'but' to slip in.
"I don't want you to feel pressured to say yes to a second date. I know that there are a whirlwind of emotions that comes with any first date, let alone your very first one. All I'm saying is that I hope you consider seeing me again?"
The man in front of you was not the confident man you just had dinner with. He was biting his lip gently, his hands were in his pockets as he tried his damn best to keep eye contact with you. But, you could tell that he was anticipating a rejection.
Oh, how the tables have turned. Gently, you took a step towards Dino. His eyes widened slightly but he couldn't fight the smile on his face. Leaning up gently, you pressed your lips to his cheek lingeringly.
"And miss out on experiencing a second date? No way."
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doragonlw · 26 days ago
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Ok I watched season 3 of Earthspark and let me tell you it was a LOT better, they sorted out a lot of the issues I had with season 2.
Except-
FUCKING STARCREAM
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Instead of fixing the mistake they made by making him a black and white villain, they dug down and stuck to their guns on how they think he should be written. Which is the wrong way to write him in this show!
I would have been fine with finding out he had gone crazy from being exposed to chaos energy for so long and being on his own inside the titan's head. "Yeah let's get you out of hear Starscream, you clearly need help, but you also need to answer for what you've done."
No Hashtag takes his fucking spark instead with the spark extractor?! And says "Good riddance"?! That's how you want to arrest him?!?!
If we had gotten a season 3 (season 3 is just season 2 part 2 so I mean season 4 technically) then maybe they could have kinder sorta fixed him. Maybe they could explain his personality switch in season 2 as him trying to distance himself from everyone. He bared his soul to the tarrans (hashtag mostly) and as a result of being on such good terms with them he rallied the Decaptacons to come and help them.
But after the battle and being revived couldn't cope with how he was willing to go to such lengths to save other people at his own peril. He's never experienced that before and it scared him, so did the extreme thing and tried to push everyone away by being a ruthless leader and villain to the terrans. That way he can't be hurt again.
And maybe in season 3/4 that's their explanation for why he suddenly took on the persona of a villain, that's what made him feel safest but he realises that wasn't the way to go and instead hurt himself more and everyone else.
But that's probably not going to happen ever so I'm left really mad over how this show has ended.
Maybe one day we'll get another starscream like this, one that doesn't later get butchered by the writing.
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
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Moon Blood
Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader
(Basically anybody who experiences periods can read this I just don't know what to tag it as)
Tav is described as having irregular periods and a heavy flow, which I know doesn't really leave it open to everyone. But it's true to my experience, so I'm sure some other irregular-period people can also appreciate this
(Also it's just a really self-indulgent story I wrote for me lmao)
Warnings: blood, blood drinking, period fic, references to sex, swearing
Word Count: 1,210
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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You roll over in your bedroll again, groaning as quietly as you could as you clutch at your abdomen. An aching pain roiled just below your belly. And there it seemed determined to stay for however long it deemed fit.
Your moon bloods were always a shock - you never knew when they would happen and you never knew how long they would last, because the gods seem to think it’s funny to make it so relentlessly inconsistent. Not to mention how heavy they could be. After everything you’ve faced on your perilous journey so far, this was the fucking worst.
The pain rises to a peak. All you can do is curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach as tight as possible to will the pain away. Does it help? No. But there’s nothing else that could… Well…
You feel like an idiot when you knock on the wooden post outside Astarion’s tent. You were pretty sure he already knew of your problem, if the restlessness whenever he was near was any indication. You couldn’t imagine the temptation, but you could admire his resolve. That wasn’t why you were here.
He calls a muffled ‘Come in’ and you push aside the canvas door. You see the change instantly. The way his eyes darken with the scent of blood, his smirk more predatory than usual. You begin to wonder if this was a bad idea.
“Hello, darling,” he purrs, low and seductive. His book is set aside in favor of standing to greet you in the small space. His hands slide around your waist, nails pressing lightly into your spine. He leans down, pressing his nose to your pulse as he whispers, “You smell delicious.”
You clear your throat. “As tempting as that is…” You step back slightly, and he doesn’t try to stop you. Instead, he pulls his face from your neck and rests his hands at your sides. One more step and he would let you go entirely. “I just want to cuddle.”
He huffs, face scrunching in annoyance. “You come in here with a banquet between your legs, and all you want is to cuddle?” The irritation can hardly be read as genuine when his thumbs begin to rub circles into your hips soothingly.
“Mhm. My cramps and back are killing me,” you explain. You gesture back outside the tent. “I could go ask Gale, if you think you’ll be too tempted.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he hisses, but it’s an empty threat.
He pulls you with him back to the pile of pillows he was lounging in before, sitting down and leaning comfortably against the pile. You stopped, standing just before him, even as he nudged your hip toward him, silently telling you he was ready for you to join him.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright with…” You don’t know how to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound strange. But your need to make sure he is comfortable wins out above everything else. “With smelling the blood all night?”
His eyes soften as he smiles. The tinge of animalistic hunger still lingers behind it, but your dismissal of his preposition has pushed it toward the back, almost entirely hidden. “I’ll be alright. I’m not starved enough to lash out at any moment, I swear.”
You frown. “You know that’s not what I’m worried about.”
He chuckles despite your scolding. “I know.” You give him a pointed look and he rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Yes, dear, I’ll be alright smelling your blood all night. Now are you going to stand there all night?”
Assured in his comfort, you finally lay down, draping yourself over him, legs slotting between each other and arms holding each other close, and your head resting on his chest. The first few times you cuddled like this, you were worried your weight would make him uncomfortable, or worse, remind him of his 200 years of abuse. But he insisted, when he didn’t want to be cradled to your chest, of course.
He rests a hand at your lower back and begins working his fingers into the aching muscles there. You sigh and relax further into him. He doesn’t need air, but his chest still rises and falls with slow breaths. It’s disconcerting without a heartbeat to accompany it, or it would be if it was anybody else. But it’s Astarion, and instead the sound of his breathing alone was soothing.
You rest there for a moment, eyes closed. The position you’ve taken eases some of the pain, hand-in-hand with Astarion’s nimble touch. For now, the pain is a little more bearable.
You lift your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, soft and at ease, eyes round with affection. “If you want to, you can eat,” you tell him. You jump to add, “From my neck.”
He chuckles. “Thank you for clarifying,” he teases.
“Well, like you said, I’m here with a banquet. I don’t want you to suffer just because I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m hardly suffering, dear,” he assures. “But I will take you up on your offer.”
You smile as you tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. He sits up, shifting you as he does until you’re eye-to-eye, before he buries his face against the nearly-faded marks he’s left. He continues to rub your back as he uses his free hand to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place and steady. He takes his time to press kisses all around his target. Your moon blood makes you taste sweeter; your skin smells so enticing. But he can savor it later.
You only get two warnings he’s about to bite: the hand holding your head tangles its fingers in your hair, holding you more firmly in place, though still being gentle about it; and the flat of his tongue running along the old punctures.
The sharp pain of ice in your veins never lasts. His mouth sucks and tongues at the punctures, drawing your blood out with practiced ease and drinking it down greedily. You close your eyes and relax into it. You trust him. And the odd feeling of your blood being pulled from your veins like liquid through a straw and the dizziness that accompanies it is much more bearable without vision.
Once he’s had his fill, he pulls his mouth off your neck and licks languidly at the last few drops until your blood clots. He slowly lowers himself back into the cushions, careful not to worsen your light-headedness with the motion. You rest your head back on his chest like a rag doll, limp and tired. He cards his fingers through your hair a few times before simply wrapping his arm around you. He mindlessly continues to rub circles into your back, keeping the pain at bay for you to sleep.
You try to speak through half-intelligible thoughts as exhaustion and comfort begins to claim you. Mostly ‘thank you’s, though a heavily slurred ‘I love you’ surfaces once or twice. He gently sushes you. And then you’re fast asleep, as if speaking was the only thing keeping you awake.
And in the morning, well, he’s more than happy to take care of you.
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars
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writersdrug · 9 months ago
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Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)
<- Previous - Next ->
Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.
WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)
Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.
This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!
(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)
(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)
- - - -
The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.
It was as if the incident had never happened.
Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.
So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.
I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.
We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.
I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.
“You smoke?” I asked.
“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.
I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.
I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.
I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.
He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.
But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.
I was happy.
He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.
I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”
He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.
I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.
He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.
To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.
He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.
“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”
He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.
My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.
That, and the smell of smoke.
“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.
“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”
I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”
She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”
We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.
I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).
“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”
I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”
Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”
“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.
“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.
“Fisherman?”
“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”
I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.
“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.
I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”
“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”
“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.
She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”
I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.
The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.
Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.
- - - -
The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.
“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”
I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.
“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.
“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”
I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.
“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”
“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.
He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”
I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”
He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”
I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.
“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”
“You could agree.”
“But I don’t.”
“Which proves my point.”
I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”
I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”
“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”
“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.
I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.
“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.
He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”
“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”
I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”
He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”
“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.
“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.
“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”
Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”
I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”
“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”
I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”
Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”
I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.
“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.
It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.
“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”
I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.
I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.
“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.
“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“
“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”
I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.
“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.
We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.
I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”
He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.
“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.
I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?
“Thank you, Konig.” I said.
He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.
“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”
I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.
“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“
“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.
“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”
My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.
“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”
I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“
Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.
Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-
“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“
We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.
I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“
Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.
“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?
“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”
“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“
“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.
“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.
Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.
A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.
- - - -
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mistydeyes · 1 year ago
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hiiiiiii can you please do a reader who is captain of a all woman force like top 3 military ranks and shes young to and she dates gaz ex
When 141 raid las v they get over powered by shadows and laswell knew this would happen so she calls in reader and her team to help 141 are there thinking fight until you drop until they see soldiers in all black military outfits with masks take down shadows no sweat. And then soap comes up like “thanks man who are you” and she’s like “we’re the widows” and uncovers her mask to reveal she’s a woman…….
I always imagined in the cod world an black widow inspired branch
THANK YOU SO MUCH AND YOU ARE LOVED,GORGEOUS,SMART,WORTHY 💕💕💕
thank you so much for requesting and the kind words! highkey wish they would introduce a group of badass fighter women into the modern warfare universe
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summary: Working behind the scenes is a group of highly trained and focused women. They're only whispers until the 141 is put into a perilous position and require rescuing.
pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, depictions of violence
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"How's that lover boy of yours doing, Angel?" your second-in-command joked. You rolled your eyes as you closed your final page of post-op paperwork. "Probably trying to beat his mates in a push-up contest," you replied, laughing at the thought of Kyle doing anything else. Despite what you thought, Gaz was pinned down in an empty cargo container in the middle of Mexico. While Ghost and Soap provided cover, he was trying to contact Laswell through a majority-busted radio. "Watcher-1, it's Bravo team," he shouted before he heard the broken-up replies from Laswell. Price pulled the radio out of his hands before he took the tiny window of opportunity to respond. "Watcher-1, we need emergency evac," he rapidly said with a hoarse tone, "we need help, Watcher-1." 
Your restful slumber was awoken by a hurried set of knocks on your quarter's door. You hastily jumped out of bed and opened it to reveal a private, standing sheepishly in front of you. "Sorry to wake you ma'am but Chief Station Laswell is online in the conference room and she wants to speak to you," they said hastily and you quickly followed after them, disregarding the current state you were in. An hour later, you, your lieutenant, and sergeants were on a helo to Las Alamas, Mexico. "They say what kind of shit they're in?" Iris, your most junior sergeant, asked over the howling night air and the sound of rotating helicopter blades. "Only that it's Captain Price's men and their last comm came from a storage container," you replied. Your team could tell you were worried and your lieutenant threw an arm around your shoulders. "We'll get them and make sure Sergeant Kyle is safe, Major," she reassured but this did nothing to help the growing pit in your stomach and the pooling sweat in your palms. Why the fuck did you let this happen, Price?
"Evac in 2 hours," the pilot called over the comms and your team dispersed into the rubble of what resembled a base. You used the back of your hand to shield your masked face from the kicked-up sand and dirt. The midnight black balaclavas felt hot against your face but you disregarded the minor discomfort. Countless bodies of the private militia group, the Shadows, littered the ground and you kicked over each body in a fruitless attempt to identify them. "Cargo holds should be 2 clicks to our north," Viper, your lieutenant, directed and you signaled them to follow your lead. You approached cautiously, hiding behind other containers and building rubble as you swept for enemy reinforcements. You looked down to see a cluster of heat signatures heading your way. "Hold on," you directed with a fist in the air, "we got company." The group stopped on your command and you quickly devised a plan, "Iris and Artemis, you take overwatch," you commanded as they began to move in careful sprints, "Cosmo, you and I will move towards the cargo," with that, you dispersed and moved quickly under the guise of dust.
As soon as you neared the rusted metal structure, you could hear a cacophony of shouts followed by the piercing sound of bullets. "Get down, Angel," you could hear your sergeant yell and you thudded to the ground. Amongst the dust, you could see the soldiers fall one by one with your team's sniper rounds filing through them like they were paper. Despite feeling absolute pride in their skill set, you were interrupted by a tight grip on your ankles. You turned to see a Shadow Company member crawling towards you, knife ready to attack. The adrenaline kicked in as you slammed your boot into their face and prepared to go on the offensive. As they were momentarily stunned, you took the opportunity to savagely jump on their back and crudely drag their knife along their neck. "Good night," you whispered before letting them fall to the ground with a thud. You continued to move to your target, gingerly wiping the reddened blood on your pants. Cosmo didn't question your appearance as you entered her vision and resumed the mission. When you reached the outer doors of the container, your other two remaining members had joined.
You knocked in succession, a code Laswell had told you before you departed. After a few moments of anticipation, the door slowly opened to reveal the tired and grimy faces of Price's team. You looked around and lost count of the amount of injuries you noticed and how some of their limbs were turned in unnatural ways. You could feel your chest tighten as you looked to find Kyle amongst the empty shell cartridges. You were comforted when you saw his face peer over the group. You walked over to him and hugged him tightly, savoring the feeling of knowing he was safe in your arms. "Thank you for the rescue," you could hear him whisper before he pulled you back into an embrace. "You know these lads, Garrick?" you could hear someone say. You turned to see the bruised and cut face of Soap as he tried to feign a smile. Before Kyle could respond, you were sure to make yourself and your team known. "We're not men, Sergeant," you said confidently, peeling off your dusty and blood-soaked mask, "we're the widows."
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sant-riley · 2 years ago
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[Ghost, Soap and Price when you ask them "would you get my name tattooed on you?"] headcanons
A/N: This is for fun, no one requested it but I love tattoos and I got some soooooo here we go!
A/N 2: this was started back in December lmfao whoops, anyways this is just some random thoughts .
Ghost:
Ghost is gonna either A) look at you like you're stupid as fuck or B) call you stupid as fuck for even asking if you two are not close.
However, you are close so he humors you, despite not saying a for sure yes or no.
"And why would I do that?"
"Because you love me~"
"You think I love you?" Dude is making heart eyes at you as y'all speak, he's full of shit.
You pester him and poke at his chest, telling him you want your name here or there and he just rolls his eyes when he lays on his back.
He makes grunts and snarky remarks like he'd cut the skin off and belly laughs when you pout and can't help but flick your forehead and say it wouldn't happen.
A liar, he's gonna get a tattoo to symbolize you, just not your name. In y'alls line of work it's too dangerous, he's a known soldier and he has a target on his back. Whatever hyperfixation you have, whatever special interest, is something he'd get inked on him, probably on the inside of his arm to keep it hidden.
He runs his fingers across it before and after a mission, even if you're there with him. It's a habit that he'll probably never break. (I'm imagining him with Optimus tattoo for me I'm crying)
Soap:
He's been waiting. He is absolutely saying yes. He's been thinking about it for awhile and has been designing in his little journal what fonts he would get.
You cannot tell me that this man wouldn't get his loved ones name on him bc he absolutely WOULD.
He doesn't care if it's bad luck to get your partners name on you, as far as he's concerned he's yours for as long as you'll have him and you both work together, been through hell together. He's sure of it if you are okay with it.
He's the guy to get your name over his heart 😭 probably also with some flowers/symbols that represent you around it as well.
He presents it to you all giddy and laughs loud when you throw your arms around his neck hugging him.
"You like it? Now you're stuck with me 'orever~" while he gives you kisses all over your face.
Soap proudly flaunts when he's shirtless, his dog tags and your name on his chest make him so egotistical (it's warranted he's so fucking hot)
Would be very happy if you were to get his name but would never pressure you, however if you were, he'd need to design it for you <3
Price:
Price is on the fence, he's not a tattoo man and never has been. But he loves you, more than he's ever loved anyone so it's a firm maybe.
It'll have to be a couple of years before he genuinely will sit down and consider it.
Wouldn't get your name but instead your initial, probably on the inside of his finger or on some easily hidden slice of skin.
You don't even fucking see it until months pass and he's changing.
"Oh that? Got it back on downtime between missions." Motherfucker.
He grumbles as you steal whatever limb it's on but he's happy you're so so ecstatic and he thinks the glowing smile you send him makes it worth it.
@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess @stupid-ninja @milkmily @lune-la-chanson @tamayakii @teacupcollector @perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains @marsbar127xx @baddump @xncasi @king-cookiex @palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky   @wolfyland07 @diejager @hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol @cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfics @117s-girl @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @sparrowwithaquill @justtiredandvibing
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gdbatbitch · 3 months ago
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TL;DR Please, please. I’m at the absolute end of my rope and can use all the help I can get. Also, just putting out there for those that prefer alternates: my PayPal is [email protected], Venmo is @Dextra-Hoffman, and CashApp is $DextraDawn. Thanks y’all.
I wish I had the spoons to talk about how horrible I have been feeling the last few weeks in real time. Especially the last 3 weeks. You don’t realize how much one little gland will mess up your entire existence until it’s defective or gone. I’ve been without my thyroid for 10 months now. And I’m still suffering the repercussions of it. 
My biggest issue is my TSH levels. I’ve had to have dosage adjustments twice since January, and each time it results in weeks of adjustment time, and a good portion of that, I’ve been completely laid out because of being unable to function. The symptoms can vary, but generally involve massive fatigue, nausea, hot flashes and cold spells/sweats that I’m not able to control and barely able to combat, dehydration, weakness, and just having that feeling you get with a high fever and a flu where you feel half in and half out of reality and not sure if you’re actually alive or you’re a ghost. 
Also because these hormones think they’re that special, they also affect my mental health by spiking my adrenaline levels and triggering my anxiety. My anxiety alone can shut me down for days. It’s been well documented. So the physical symptoms would trigger my anxiety. I have a really high pain tolerance, but sickness not so much. And I have never felt sicker in my life than I have in the last month. So not only was I feeling like I was dying, I was terrified the entire time.
I’ve not gone into great detail about it openly because it was so scary, and I know when I’m in panic mode I can’t really trust my own mind to determine the seriousness of a situation. So I kept it quiet, at least quiet for me. 
Of course, all of this has completely destroyed my plans of getting back to work and out of this poverty rut I’ve been in for months. I had a job lined up, but the start date was right in the middle of my being incapacitated. I tried to work with the company to push back my start date, but that didn’t happen. I’m in the midst of interviewing for a job that would be absolutely perfect, but I’m still waiting for next steps on their part. Aside from those, as anyone currently seeking a job will tell you, it’s abysmal out there. I’ve applied for over a hundred jobs in the last 4 months and I’ve barely gotten any responses. 
I’ve been asked if I’m going to be doing art commissions, and if I were more capable, sure. I’d be silly not to try. But I’ve not been anything close to capable for weeks. I’ve only been back to 100% for a few days now, and even that has been sketchy. So I’m putting a pin in that for now, at least until I can knock out a sketch or two to knock the rust off. 
I was hoping to be done with fundraising, it’s so nerve-racking. But right now, my survival is in peril. I just submitted a request for what will be my last unemployment payout. It wasn’t much, but it was barely keeping me afloat. After that, I’m kinda screwed unless I can figure something out. 
I still haven’t made rent for August, my car payment is late, I’ve got bills up to my ears and I’m just worried that I’m not going to have those things very very soon if I can’t keep up. If I can at least hit the goal on the fundraiser, that can keep me going until I can get back to work (fingers crossed). 
I’ve been struggling with asking for help for a while now because I feel like I’ve been holding my hat out for far too long, but I don’t really have a choice anymore. I’ve also been struggling with a lot of internalized ableism as well because I know I’m disabled and shouldn’t push myself as hard as I do. But that’s a rant for another time.
Please, please. I’m at the absolute end of my rope and can use all the help I can get. Also, just putting out there for those that prefer alternates: my PayPal is [email protected], Venmo is @Dextra-Hoffman, and CashApp is $DextraDawn. Thanks y’all.
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wings-of-fire-confessions · 3 months ago
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Blue being a "boring protag" isn't that bad!
Blue is used as a vector for the new setting and story to flow through, we need to see how the hivewings system works and how, on a surface level, we,d assume its citizens think it works (his pov)
Having a more bombastic protag (ala peril/glory type ) like Luna wouldn't allow us to get as good of a scope because it would be under bias already. Blue is important because he IS somewhat brainwashed to believe the hivewings are good, and his own beliefs being proven wrong IS a more potent turning point for us to see that the hivewings system is flawed than just being told it from the beginning via protag inner monologue.
We see that, blue, a soggy paper towel of a dragon who is a model student and basically a perfect silkwing citizen get dogged on and treated like dirt for existing, and if he's treated like that even THOUGH he's so "well behaved", what happens to the more outspoken silkwings? What happens to silkwings that CANT or ARENT a model citizen? If blue can't live peacefully at the "respected level" of silkwing performance then nobody can. And that shows us it's fundamentally unjust. Nobody can chill!
And I can agree, it's not an excuse for him to STAY a little dull as a character in the future, but I feel as if any arc 3 discussion has to be taken with a grain of salt imo :P
And the parallel between his father admiral and HIM being what radicalised blue is NOT talked about enough, he looked into a flesh mirror and saw what he was doing to himself by following the rules, trapping himself forever.
He lived dreaming that him the hivewings were equal, becuase why wouldn't they be? He had a good heart. Why wouldn't they? He felt guilt about disobeying the rules because he was empathetic and felt pity for a cold system of oppressive laws and dictators.
Even in the flamshilk cave, he was trying to justify why they did this. They wouldn't exploit him, would they? We're equals, right? Maybe I am dangerous?
But, he saw what he could become in that cave, his own flesh and blood, his father. His father who felt for the hivewings as he did, his father who was rotting alone in a pile of letters, Delusional cries to the queen. Because they were equal, right?
They'd listen!
Right?
.
.
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captainpondlilly · 11 months ago
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Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.
My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object
You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*
A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could
I don't like "lunchlad"
Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this
My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"
I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry
What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons
I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone
In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!
In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"
My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for
It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea
I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam
Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal
Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*
I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun
I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get
I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since
I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below
Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes
Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway
My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me
I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake
I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact
The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop
On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place
he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again
Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me
We're the throw up boys!*
I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison
I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee
A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died
Today I have been hit by 3 scooters
Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones
My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing
Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me
Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*
When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole
If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.
If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through
I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀
*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!
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