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kentoxo · 5 days ago

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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 8

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH im so sorry i was gone for so long! work and school and i got sick again. my luck lately has been quite poor, but here's the next part!! i dont think its quite well written but i hope you all think its good! thank u again for ur support, kindness, and patience :) (sorry i say thank you so much, cant help myself!)

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Wednesday

You should have worn more lotion.

The unkind cold and threatening winds made your trek to work excruciatingly more difficult. Surely you made it, but had to get blind by the flurries of snow in the process. You take your time in the lobby, stomping aggressively down at the weather mats to remove all the snow and ice from your boots. You shake yourself like a wet dog to get the snow off your coat, too. The lobby men chuckle at you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

It’s been rough to do so, after all. Considering you got rejected twice by the same man, you needed all the serotonin you could get. You spent hours crying, which only halted when you finally passed out. The heartbreak exhausted you, given how dark your eyes were, and how hollow your chest has felt since then. The worst part about all of it is that despite everything, you still had Nanami’s coffee in mind.

It floated in your mind to go to the cafe and get him a cup. But you have to remember that he has other assistants who know his coffee order now. You were now one of few who knew it.

To have your relationship seen as just boss/assistant by the other participant felt like punishment. A large sigh left your lips when you exited the elevator on your floor. Shivers tickled your body as you begrudgingly walked over to your desk. It was warm in the office, enough for you to take solace in.

You begin to turn on your computer and prepare your desk, before being interrupted by two hands slamming down your desk. You look up to find a panting (and exhausted) Haibara. “Yu?” You whisper worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

“He lost the flashdrive,” Haibara lets out. “The presentation… it’s missing.”

Your eyes widen, “Nanami? But… how?” Of all people, Nanami was never one to lack in anything, especially in organization. He was always sharp and aware of where all his things were. You never had to concern yourself with assignments getting lost because Nanami is too diligent.

“We– we um, drank last night…?” Haibara reluctantly confesses. “We both got home quite late… he might not have his whole head on.”

Without another word, you swiftly leave your desk and rush over to Nanami’s office, with Haibara following closely behind. On your way towards his office, you see all of Takada’s assistants outside of his office, their expressions full of concern. You make your way through them and knock on his door gently.

“What?” Nanami’s annoyed tone rang through the door.

“It’s Y/N,” you reply, ignoring his attitude.

Quick shifting was sound behind the door before the doorknob began to turn. The door opens to reveal a disheveled Nanami. Despite his usually refined features, his unkempt hair and unbutton shirt was quite distracting. The shadows line his collarbone and the darkness under his eyes add to the intensity in his struggling, hazel eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his eyes slightly lighting up from your presence. There was some sort of relief in his eyes, but it was still drowned out by anxiety.

“Please, please tell me you have a copy?” Nanami practically begs.

You feel a lump in your throat from seeing his desperation. Not even you can be dismissive to his plea. “I–I was instructed not to keep an extra copy. It’s confidential, so I didn’t…”

Nanami let out a quiet ‘fuck,’ retreating slowly back towards his desk. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself because you’re right and I’m simply irresponsible…” He leans back against his desk, defeatedly holding himself up with his hands firmly down on the desk behind him. He looks distantly to the floor, a sight you never thought you’d ever see.

The confident, sharp Nanami was now at his wits’ end.

“Do you remember when you last had it?” You ask quietly.

“I had it in my coat pocket on my way here,” he recalls quietly, “I still had it when I got off the train, so it must be outside around the area.”

“But with all that snow…” Haibara begins, the defeat clearly on his tongue.

You let out a sigh, emitting a calm apology before dismissing yourself. Once you were out of sight, you ran towards the elevator, practically beating the button until it arrived to you. You impatiently wait as you descend, your body already feeling the cold from outside. Even maintenance couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched you run out from the lobby, and into the harsh weather.

It was a bit embarrassing for you. You were always there to fix Nanami’s scarce mistakes, or prevent them. Even after he broke your heart twice, here you are, outside in the freezing cold, without any garments to protect you from it. You could feel your body beginning to go numb from the seconds you were outside.

Your exposed legs were inches deep in the snow, your frigid hands sifting desperately through the snow. Why? You asked yourself. Why, why, why? You were freezing, the weather was harsh, and this flash drive is as small as a roach. Why were you doing all of this?

As you shoveled through the snow, you were finally able to feel how you were feeling after facing Nanami again. You were able to keep yourself from crying, but you wanted to cry profusely. Your boss, your crush, was stressed out over a mistake he made, and it didn’t even make you feel better. Unfortunately, your feelings were too weaved into his, and you felt the stress he is feeling.

It bothered you to see him stressed. So much so, your body moved on its own and now it was in the cold, looking for the solution to Nanami’s problem. You didn’t even stay idle for a moment while in his office. Perhaps, the reason why you were helping him was because since you met Nanami, he has always been someone to work for his team.

But you know for sure part of it was that you never want to see him like that again.

Taking on projects on his own to keep his other colleagues working in low piles. Working with clients he personally isn’t a fan of to make sure the company grows. Providing breakfast and lunch when important meetings arise to make sure everyone at least eats well before torturous work. He was strict, but never a mean person. And to that end might explain why you still felt the way you did.

However,

Your respect for him goes above your feelings. A hard piece of plastic was barely felt between your fingers, but they were able to hold onto it firmly. The small flash drive, covered in a bit of snow, still glowed green when you pushed up to reveal the USB. You promptly make your way back in, the warmth barely penetrating the cold you developed while being outside.

I’m gonna get sick, you thought to yourself. As you passed through the lobby, you noticed Nanami’s clients getting checked in at the lobby. You hurry to the elevator, pushing aggressively at the close button so they didn’t have a chance to get there at the same time you did. You move your legs in place, attempting to regain some warmth. While you ascended, you purposely pushed the buttons of the floors you passed to delay their arrival. Finally reaching your level, you rush out to go to the other free elevator. As you did, you were met with a concerned Haibara.

“H-hey!” Haibara calls to you, but you ignore him and shove the flash drive into his hand. But as you did, he noticed that you were frozen and kept his hands around yours. “You… found it? Did you go outside? Without a coat? Y/N, you’re freezing!”

Oh, how you wished you fell for Haibara instead. You pull away your hand, quickly entering the other elevator and slamming your hands on the buttons. You look up at Haibara, your bottom lip blue and quivering. “Take it to Nanami,” you say roughly, your voice hoarse from the little warmth in your body. “Your clients. They’re downstairs. Hurry up.”

Haibara holds onto your arms, noticing that you could barely keep yourself up, “yeah, fuck the clients. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“Please,” you look up at him desperately, tears welling in your eyes. It was already enough that you felt stupid for even looking for the flashdrive in this state. But even Haibara couldn’t push away the hurt and stress in your own eyes. “I’ll be fine… please help Nanami finish this.”

“Let me at least walk you to your desk–”

“I got her!” You both look over to see Tae run over, his apron dancing left and right from not being properly tied in the back. He quickly takes hold of you, looking up at Haibara to give him a curt nod in replacement of a proper bow. “Resume your work, Haibara-sama. I can tend to her.”

Tae held you close enough that you could feel his warmth. It was intoxicating almost, the solace of his heat and the scent of pine needles emanating from his body. The fresh scent of linen coming from his black sweatshirt made you feel a little nostalgic but uneasy. You could still feel the cold taking you over, your entire body shivering. His hands firmly held you without squeezing you tightly.

Haibara looks down skeptically, but you wave at him. “Please go,” you croak, coughs finally leaving your throat. “I’ll be fine.” You could see that you didn’t quite persuade him, but for the sake of Nanami, he nodded.

He eyes Tae, a rare serious aura surrounding him, “get her to a doctor if she needs it. I’ll be back as soon as the presentation ends. Please make her something hot, like hot cocoa or soup.” Tae nods, allowing Haibara to run back towards Nanami, who was probably drowning in his own anxiety.

“‘m sorry to inconvenience you like this, Tae,” you whisper, your body still shaking and twitching from the cold. “But thank you for that.”

“No worries, please don’t exert yourself,” Tae softly warns. He tightens his hold on you before slowly walking you over to the cafe. Though you didn’t have enough trust to close your eyes, you did have enough to hold his sweater, confident that he won’t let you fall. “Let me help you. After all, you helped me first. Come, the cafe is just around the corner.”

The relief on Nanami’s face was truly meant to be displayed in a museum.

He held onto the flashdrive tightly, mentally scolding himself from ever dropping it in the first place. He forces it into the projector, and everything was set up for the clients to come in moments. He noticed that the flash drive was not only still cold, but slightly wet. “Was it outside in the snow?”

Haibara nods as he fixes up the conference table a bit. It was ornate with drinks, snacks, and notetaking items for their clients to use and enjoy. “The snow is really growing by the inch out there. This winter is brutal.”

“It truly is unkind out there,” Nanami sighs, his eyes looking through the window. “I hope you grabbed your coat before going out there.”

Haibara shakes his head, “it wasn’t me who found the flashdrive; it was Y/N. I caught her at the elevator, and she was the one who handed it to me.”

Nanami slightly perks up at your name, “did she really?”

“She left straight from your office to go find it,” Haibara says quietly, “but she didn’t even bring a sweater. She was completely frozen when I saw her.”

This left a pit in Nanami’s stomach. “Why did she not bring a coat? She’s more rational than that.”

Haibara lets out a sigh, “who’s to say, Kento. Y/N works very hard to do right by you and this company. I think she’d do whatever it takes in order to make sure you and this department shines.”

“Disregarding her health is not why she’s here,” Nanami huffs strictly. “Where is she?”

“I left her with the barista you hired,” Haibara informs, “my guess is he took her to the cafe to warm her up.”

Nanami’s eyes cut over to Haibara, burning through his soul. Despite this, Haibara still didn’t see his eyes. “You left her with a stranger?”

“A stranger you hired,” Haibara clarifies. “Anyways, Y/N insisted I come help you. I’d probably make her feel worse if I didn’t.”

There was a rare annoyance that Nanami never felt. You were always conscious of yourself, and others. Nanami always noticed when you would help someone with a large pile of papers, or when you applied bandages to blisters due to your heels. But more times than not, you never shied away from a challenge, and never hesitated to help someone whether they asked or not.

But now you were far from him, and he couldn’t do anything to help you. He had this stupid presentation to do, rather than be by your side and tend to you. After all, you truly were the reason behind his success. The reason for his reduced stress, and a direct asset to his department. You did so much for him, only to be given a shred of that effort. He was feeling guilty, not only for being unaware of his feelings towards you, but the immense disregard he had for your own feelings and effort in this company.

You were his dear assistant, and he was breaking you.

“I’ll be back,” Nanami hums, rushing out of the conference room. Haibara looks back and follows right behind him, surprised by his sudden dash.

Nanami, the meeting!” Haibara calls out to him, “you can’t do this right now!”

His response was silence as he reached the corner towards the cafe. As he appears in the opening, his hazel eyes relentlessly looked for you. But when he stumbled upon you, his concern and annoyance skyrocketed.

You were lying on one of the couches at the cafe, surrounded by a few of the baristas there. They all comforted you, as you lay under a few blankets. But Nanami noticed that below all of that, you were covered by a large, black crewneck. On your head, a beanie as well. And sat on a stool right in front of you with a hot coffee cup was Tae, the barista he hired. Nanami noticed the warmth in his eyes when he looked down at you, with a free hand out to you. Your boss felt a lump in his throat when he saw you take his hand, helping you sit up to take the cup from him. Tae kept his hand on the bottom of the cup while you sipped it cautiously.

His chest felt like someone was pushing it down, his breath was limited. His heart, at the same time, was punching against it as well, almost as if it was going through a two-front war. He looks down at his hands, adjusting the sleeves at both of his wrists. He needed to reach you– sooner rather than later. And now looked like the perfect opportunity.

But before he could take another step, the elevator behind him opened, and the entourage of clients he was expecting stood before him, all smiles. Haibara catches up and pats Nanami’s back, forcing him to turn around as they both curtly bow in greeting. A vein protruded Nanami’s temple, and Haibara looked back to see what he was looking at.

What he saw made him crack a small smile, his energy returning to him as he led the clients and an annoyed Nanami towards the conference room.

Taglist: [Now Closed]

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nananmi kento #jjk x reader #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami

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cntloup · 7 months ago

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one-night stand You can't resist Simon's unintentional charm mention of trauma, thoughts of getting killed

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your friends notice your gaze occasionally drifting onto something afar as you try to engage in their conversation.

There's a tall burly figure standing by the bar, holding a glass of bourbon while his elbow rests on the counter.

There's something subtly alluring about him, exuding masculinity and gruffness.

And there’s a hint of pain in his eyes, a heavy weight on his shoulders, you come to notice as your gaze lingers on him through the night.

And you feel each one of the scars adorning his face and hands has a story behind it.

He has a story, you think to yourself.

He has noticed the set of eyes on him long before he decides to finally give you some attention.

He just didn’t think much of it before since he deemed you harmless, used to the gazes and glares of strangers.

And finally his eyes meet yours, profound stare burning through your soul, his intense glare melting you as the bright shining sun, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

And you find yourself gravitating more and more towards him as you take each step in his direction as if enchanted by a siren’s song.

Until you’re inches away from him, your eyes locked onto each other, neither of you daring to look away as if you do, the other person will disappear.

You both feel the captivating pull, the igniting flames between you and you both feel like you have found what you were looking for all your lives.

His hand comes up to softly caress your cheek and he leans in until his lips are beside your ear, “Your place or mine, love?” he murmurs, voice low and dark, sending a wave of shivers down your body and making the aching heat between your legs almost unbearable.

“Whichever’s closer.” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper like he has knocked the air out of your lungs by his mere presence.

And you find yourself on his bed, mewling and whimpering under his bulky weight as he rolls his hips into yours, reaching far deep inside you like you could never even imagine, like no other man could ever reach.

He tenderly kisses your body, your skin so delicate and soft under his rough hands and scarred lips.

Your mind is lost in a euphoric haze as he treads the line of fucking and making love, balancing the contradicting notions like no other man ever could.

He fucks you like no other man ever could, the sweet ache lingering on your body and in your mind the day after, long after you have left.

And his mind is encompassed by you, his senses captivated by your allure, beauty and grace.

He reaches out again. He found the piece of paper with your number on it on the pillow the day after. He simply can’t stay away from you anymore.

He spent a long time struggling with himself, wrestling with the thoughts of getting closer to you,

knowing fully well how the people who get close to him end up and the thought of you ending up with a bullet in your head like the rest of his family replay in his mind,

the doubt in his heart that whether or not he will be a good partner at all gnaw at him constantly.

He knows that he’s no good for you, you deserve far better than him.

But he knows you want him too, the ghost of your tender touch and fiery kiss still present on his skin, etched onto his soul.

And he's been the only thing occupying your mind all this time, utterly enamored by him.

And your heart nearly skips a beat as your phone rings with an unknown number, hoping that it’s him.

new series?👀

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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lunarmoves · 26 days ago

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who i see, looking back at me (ch2)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, hallucinations, grief/mourning, non-sexual intimacy, touch aversion, hurt/comfort, ooc sebastian probably, again taking creative liberties with his mom and siblings, tentative reconnecting :)

a/n: so this fic is now 4 chapters instead of 2. what happened, u ask? i have no idea. i blame sebastian. also, i made some minor edits to ch1- nothing too major, i just changed sebastian's age from 32 to 33 LOL. i found out pressure takes place in 2025 when he's 32, so i nudged it up a lil. not that telling u guys this makes a difference dsjfhj. i used the urbanshade wiki for a lot of his info btw. anyways, hope u guys enjoy, bon apple teeth!

word count: 11k+

masterlist | part one

ao3 link

In the following days, a storm swept its way down the coast, confining you to your cottage when you weren’t at work.

You sat at the window in your living room overlooking the sea, watching the way rain drummed against the glass. You could hear the way the wind battered the walls of your cottage, a low whistling echoing from a window you likely didn’t close properly. The sky was swollen with dark, heavy clouds that lit up with the occasional fork of white lightning. The rumbles of thunder that followed were loud enough for you to feel in your chest, and you enjoyed sipping at a warm drink as you read a book in the evenings before bed.

After watching the way the waves crashed viciously against the sand and rocks of the shore—following the push and pull of the storm—you wondered if you should be worried about possible flooding. You’d think you’d be used to it after living by the sea for so long. But no, the water was not agitated enough to reach your little cottage at the top of the cove, so you did not think too much about it.

What you did have to worry about, however, were leaks.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed as you toed a bucket under a steadily dripping wet spot on your ceiling. You’d never had to deal with them before, but then again, the winds of this storm were certainly strong. They could’ve knocked something loose. Your cottage was old enough that you wouldn’t be surprised.

“Least there aren’t too many,” Sebastian remarked as he stood next to another bucket. He stared up at the point of leakage, a drop falling every few seconds. “Either deal with them every storm or bust out some tools to fix them, shouldn’t be too difficult, even for you.”

You hummed out something of an agreement, ignoring the little jab at the end. You’d never been the one to do the tinkering or fixing around the house, preferring to observe him instead as he worked. You had to learn things yourself, over the years. It didn’t make it any less painful.

(“Put that engineering degree to work,” you told him as you always did each and every time, then grinned when he gave you that same squinted glare.

“Mechanical engineering is not equal to fixing a pipe,” he grumbled back at you, pointing the wrench in his hand in your direction as you hovered by the bathroom doorway. He lifted his head just enough from the cupboard of the sink to meet your gaze in the mirror in front of him. “Neither is hanging a painting on the wall. Or swapping out lightbulbs, for that matter.”

You just smiled at him, not bothering to hide the way your gaze trailed along the muscles of his back and shoulders—forming shadows along the black tank top he wore. He made a face at you that had you biting your tongue to hold back a laugh.

“It is to me,” you replied in amusement. His groan only made your lips stretch wider. “Chop chop, nerd.”)

You sighed, a weary thing that you felt deep in your chest, and frowned out at your living room with its couple of buckets collecting water. Sebastian lifted his palm just under the leak he stood by. You watched him for a moment before turning away as another drop fell towards his hand.

It felt like ages before you finally found yourself waking up to a sliver of bright, warm sunshine through your curtained window. You could finally pack away the buckets scattered around your home, lazily eyeing the spots on the ceiling where the water had dripped through. You’d need to borrow a ladder from someone so you could inspect the roof. You would deal with that later, you decided.

You opened your front door to breathe in the fresh air of a storm long gone—the earthy smell accompanied by a salty seabreeze that promised better days. Clear skies with feathery wisps of clouds accompanied you all the way to work, where you and your coworker made plans to reschedule that dinner you both had meant to grab before the storm reared its ugly head and sent everything awry.

And once you got back home after a long shift, you took some time to pick your way down the shore to walk alongside the lazy ebbing of the tide.

The storm had washed up quite a few things. Bits of driftwood and seaweed, mostly. But occasionally a glimmer of something shiny would catch your eye, buried partially within the sand. You ended up wandering around for a bit, digging up seashells or small rocks that caught the light in just the right way when you held them up in front of your face.

Eventually, as the sun danced along the horizon and sent its golden light to caress the planes of the earth, you ended up on the dock. Your pockets clicked and clacked with your findings as you walked down its length, the wood only mildly damp now from the days of endless rainfall. The boards creaked under each of your steps, and when you finally stopped at the dock’s edge, you paused for a moment to peer down at it.

It—looked utterly ruined. Splintered pieces of wood that still held on through the storm poked out along the damaged planks. You frowned as you squinted at it. The edge was broken in a way that alluded to three separate points of destruction—the wood cracked and jagged like the maw of a hungry beast. Your lips pursed. Damage from the storm, no doubt. Maybe the vicious waves. Either way, it looked like you couldn’t sit here anymore until it was flagged and repaired. A shame, really. You glanced around at the rest of the undamaged dock.

You supposed you could simply… sit elsewhere upon it. But… You grimaced to yourself as you swept your gaze across the calm waters. No prickle of your skin. No teal glow. No familiar rasp of a voice that made something in your chest ache. That did not mean it would not happen again, however. You were wary. Your own home you could not escape from him, but the dock you certainly could.

Maybe you should spend your evenings somewhere else for a bit.

And that was how you found yourself down in the cove in the days that followed. It was not a place you frequented as often as the dock when you just wanted to lounge around—you needed to scale quite a few rocks to make it to the little beach within it—but it was just as gorgeous. Calm. Quiet. You could sit on the sand and watch the tide rise lazily to brush against your feet.

Here, you felt protected—the cove curving in such a way where you were surrounded on almost all sides by rock apart from the section of the sea in front of you. Not many people ventured over here, preferring to stick by the wider—more open—stretch of the beach. You didn’t mind. All the more peace for you.

You were feeling reminiscent, one particular evening, and decided to bring out that ukulele you’d purchased so long ago. It mostly sat in a corner of your room, collecting dust. But occasionally, you felt the urge to strum a couple of chords in some resemblance of a song—as clumsy and out-of-tune as they were.

You sat cross-legged in the cove, far enough from the water’s edge that it could not reach you for a couple of feet. The sun had long started its descent, making the water sparkle like gems were littered under its surface. A few seagulls cawed overhead, close enough that you occasionally glanced upwards to watch them circle about in the air.

Ukulele balanced partially on your lap, you squinted down at the card that came with it that had the finger positions for some chords drawn out. The card rested on the sand in front of your shin, and you frowned at it as you strummed out a rough-sounding G-chord.

“That’s not right,” you muttered to yourself as you adjusted your fingers on the fretboard. You gave another strum. It sounded clearer—if marginally. “There we go.”

Now to switch to an F-chord. You repositioned your fingers and strummed again. Not bad. Definitely better sounding than your G, that was for sure. The pads of your fingers were starting to ache with how hard you pressed down onto the strings. Your wrist too, for that matter.

After learning a few more chords, you started to idly strum away, searching for a tune. A lot of songs could be played just by using the C-, G-, and F-chords, you noted. Between your mindless down and up motions along the strings, you caught a faint glimpse of an old song you used to hear in your youth. And so, you chased after it, murmuring the words under your breath.

“No, that’s not…” You trailed off as you switched between a G and C, fingers moving slowly. Ah, the order did not sound right to your ears. Maybe an F should follow the G instead. You gave it a try and scrunched your nose when it sounded odd again. “Ah… man.”

A voice suddenly spoke up from somewhere in front of you—low and musing. “Ukulele, huh? When’d you pick it up?”

A brief glance upwards revealed exactly who you’d expected, even as something sank to the soles of your feet. Sebastian lounged stomach-down in the low shallows of the water, head propped up atop his hands as he watched you with half-lidded, squinted eyes. Close, yet not too close that he reached the point where the water’s edge kissed the beach.

The distance, however, was not your main focus.

Behind his upper body, you could see the stretch of a long, thick tail as it trailed towards the sea. Massive, in its entirety, and resembling a snake of sorts. Its posterior side glistened with gray-blue scales that caught the light in a nearly mesmerizing way. There were these black straps that criss-crossed along his tail all the way up to the base of large, whale-like flukes that were arched out of the water. Why the straps were there, you did not know.

He was much larger than you’d thought he was.

You averted your gaze and looked back down at your instrument. Truly, you did not know why he looked so different out here. You didn’t like the way it made you feel. Were you losing your grip on him—his memory? The last fragments of him that you had? No. No.

You didn’t like that at all.

“Helloooo?” Sebastian called, voice pitching upwards. “I asked you a question. Gonna just leave me hanging here?”

You huffed through your nose. He should know this. “Not too long ago,” you told him anyway, squinting slightly at him.

His eyes crinkled into upturned crescents at your response—short as it was. “There, was that so hard now?” His voice dripped with condescension. One of his ear fins gave a little flick. “So, have you realized that it’s actually me, yet?”

You didn’t answer, turning your attention back to your ukulele.

He sighed like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. “That’s what I thought.”

He was quiet as you spent some time strumming away. You were determined to figure out the right chords for this vague song, but you were severely lacking the knowledge of what they might be. You switched back to learning more finger positions from the chord card. Maybe it would fill in some gaps.

“Your thumb is too high on the neck,” Sebastian suddenly said after a while, earning him a quick glance from you. He pointed at your hand. “You’re gonna hurt your wrist like that, babe. It’s also restricting your movements. Lower it some more so that it’s not sticking above the fretboard.” He paused for a second, then added, “Also the strum zone is a little higher than that.”

You mulled over his words for a bit, then adjusted your hold. Playing a few different chords, you realized that yes, it was easier to switch your finger positions now. Sounded much smoother as well. You hummed to yourself.

“You really think if I wasn’t real that I’d be able to give you advice like that?” he asked pointedly, eyes falling into a half-lidded gaze. “Tell you shit you didn’t know about?”

You pursed your lips. You… guessed so. But you had done some online research when you’d first bought the ukulele to learn more about it, being a novice and all. You were certain you’d read about correct positioning before—maybe you forgot but some level of your mind stored the information. You weren’t well versed in the workings of the human brain, particularly when it came to your… situation. You only offered Sebastian a shrug. He sighed deeply and grumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.

You went back to trying to figure out the song you’d distantly caught onto before. C-chord, followed by an E minor, G—wait no, an A minor actually—then an F. You were making some progress, as small as it was.

The discordant notes from your ukulele mixed in with the steady swelling of the waves. Somewhere above, there was the caw of a seagull—sharp and piercing. Occasionally, there would be a small splash out in the distance, either from a fish jumping out of the water or a bird diving for a meal. You breathed in and—

Splat!

You made a surprised, strangled noise, something immensely cold and wet and slimy landing directly on your face. You couldn’t even really process what was happening before you felt it slide down and land on your lap. Your face scrunched up, disgusted, then you jumped slightly when laughter erupted from somewhere in front of you.

“Oh my fucking god,” Sebastian wheezed, and your gaze shot towards him to see him practically curled up in a shaking ball. His tail slapped at the water, once, then twice when he rolled around to clutch at his stomach. “H-Holy shit that was funnier than I’d expected it to be oh my god your face! I think I’m gonna piss.” He lifted himself up just enough to look at you, then he burst out into cackles again.

“Hwhuh?” you said, still stunned. He laughed even harder, and you took the time to look down at your lap at your assailant. You blinked at it and felt your lips pull back in some strange grimace.

It was a wad of seaweed—fishy-smelling and gross and goddamnit it was soaking into your clothes and got all over your ukulele—

“Oh man, I missed doing that so much.” Sebastian wiped a tear from one of his teal eyes and grinned sharply at you. “Never change, babe. Never change.”

You only made another sound, picking up the seaweed with one of your hands and flinging it off to the side. You could still feel the residue, well, everywhere. Coating your cheeks and your eyelids and your mouth. It was foul. You swiped your hand down your face in an attempt to get rid of it. You were not all too successful.

Sebastian chortled, then leaned back down with his head propped atop his palm, fixing you with a suddenly calculating stare. The tide swept up and around his body. “So? Would I have been able to do that if I wasn’t real, hm?”

For a moment, you just watched him. His nonchalant pose. His gaze firmly trained on your own. The way his third arm did a little finger wave at you, a gold ring glinting on its fourth finger. You stared, and you stared. Then, you turned to look at the clump of seaweed. After a beat or two, you looked up at the inky sky—where those seagulls still circled overhead. Sebastian followed your gaze.

He paused.

“Wait. Don’t tell me”—he let out a laugh, incredulous, almost—“you think that was the birds?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “What else would it be?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself. You needed a shower, and you needed it immediately. You stood up to dust the sand off your clothes with one hand, the other occupied with holding your poor ukulele.

“Babe,” he groaned, one of his hands raking down his face. His lips trembled, minute. “You’re gonna feel real stupid once you realize I’m actually here, you know.”

You only huffed and wiped at your face again, eye twitching ever so slightly.

And that was how the next few days went.

He would show up whenever you were in the cove at night. Always making these remarks at you to get you to think that he wasn’t just some illusion you’d cooked up. Making you think that the splashes of water you felt on your legs or arms were from him and not the tide. When you moved back to the dock in an attempt to evade him, he followed you there too, and did the same thing again and again and again.

And all the while, he looked as though he was battling something internally. What that was, you were uncertain. But it didn’t matter, did it? He was just an extension of your own thoughts, your own mind.

Ignore, just ignore him like you always do, you told yourself repeatedly. He would eventually stop talking. He would eventually go away. But he never did.

And one night you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Did you ever want to start a family?” he mused at you one evening in the cove, tail flicking idly behind him. You felt like you’d been doused in icy cold water as you stared down at the book in your lap. Eyes stuck on one word, but not truly seeing it. “We never really talked about it, did we?”

Your jaw tensed. No. No you didn’t.

“Ah, we were so young,” he continued in a quiet voice. “I’d say time has flown, but it didn’t. Not to me.” You did not need to look at him to know he was staring directly at you. The back of your neck prickled. “You’re what, thirty-four, now?” He chuckled. “You look just as I’d remembered.”

The way it was said—soft, tender, like an admission murmured in the darkness of night—added fuel to the way something wrenched itself fiercely in your gut. Paralyzed you on the ground. Your grip on your book tightened. Your gaze landed on your wedding ring, still bright and vivid even after all these years with the care you used to handle it.

It was quiet.

“I’m sorry, you know?” A confession, whispered so gently you almost thought you didn’t hear it. “I’m sorry I was gone. Not that either of us could’ve done anything about it at this point. But I’m sorry I left you for so long, for what it’s worth. Maybe if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off, the implication of his words settling around your neck like a noose. “Well. I wonder sometimes about what could’ve been if all this shit didn’t happen.”

It was never ending, this pain. That you carried on a day-by-day basis, heavy like you wore chains around your ankles and wrists. Your heart. It would be easier to let yourself sink into the ocean, you think. Maybe it would be better than the endless hollowness you felt everywhere in your body.

Sometimes it felt like time did not aid you in healing. You were unsure if it ever truly would.

“I thought about you every day,” he whispered, voice thick with emotions you could not bear to decipher. “Every. Single. Day.”

Something deep inside you cracked like porcelain set too roughly atop a surface. You didn’t want to hear this, you didn’t want to hear this anymore.

“Stop— just stop,” you moaned out, wrenching your grip from your book so you could claw at your head. Your eyes squeezed shut. A dull ache throbbed beneath your fingers. “Leave me alone.”

“No,” he instead said firmly, low cadence to his tone. “I’m not gonna do that. Not now. You finally listening to me?”

You shook your head and covered your face with your hands that shook like you were one step away from being unbalanced. This Sebastian was persistent and talkative in a way that your Sebastian in your cottage was not.

And it hurt. More than anything in this world, it hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you choked out, a fierce stinging making itself present behind your eyes. “I-I can’t. I can’t.”

You thought about your cottage—that had seemed small, at first. But when you stood in the space of your living room and looked around at the vacant couch, listened to the eerie stillness that came with being alone, it was all too large just for you.

Your heart ached.

“It’s not fair,” you sobbed, voice breaking on the tailend of your sentence. “It’s not fair. It hurts too much, I can’t— I can’t do this.”

You were so, so tired.

Of feeling this way. Of waking up to his face and falling asleep with it etched into your eyelids. Of going to work with him over your shoulder. Of finding no escape even in the one place you thought you would be at ease. It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

Sebastian was quiet as you sat there, attempting in vain to wipe away the wetness spilling across your cheeks. The chill of night was starting to set in. You could feel its cold hands snaking up your bare arms. You sniffed and scrubbed at your eyes. Distantly, there was a steady shifting sound. Sand being displaced. The drips and drops of water falling into a puddle.

There was a touch against your knee—featherlight and hesitant.

You froze. And slowly, ever so slowly, you lowered your hands.

A gray-blue hand—large enough to cover the entirety of your knee—brushed lightly against the thin material of your pants. The pads of its wet fingers traced a small circle around it, mindful of the sharp claws attached to its ends. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tear your gaze away from what you were seeing until the hand drew slightly away.

You looked up through wet lashes to see Sebastian—closer to the point where his shadow covered the entirety of your body. His head was bent towards you, angler’s lure falling into the space between your faces. The twilight that painted the sky in fragile light made his eyes glow softly, lowered as they were to take in your expression. Searching, maybe, though for what you were uncertain.

You swallowed, your gaze darting down to his curled hand, then back up at his unreadable face. A static encompassed your mind, leaving no room for coherent thought.

He seemed to be waiting for something. But when you only stared wide-eyed at him, he eventually sighed.

“It won’t be enough, I know,” he murmured, tail shifting somewhere behind him in the sand. “It will take the both of us. Here.”

He extended his arm before you—bending it in a way where his forearm oriented itself horizontally in front of you. He nodded down at it. “Go on.” It did not take a genius to figure out what he wanted you to do.

Could you do it? You didn’t know. You didn’t even know if you wanted to, for that matter. But one glance up at Sebastian’s face revealed an expectant sort of look to it. Nervous, you might say. Even grim. It did not make you feel any better. If anything, it made your muddled mix of emotions and thoughts even more messed up.

Time… Did you go through enough time?

You stared down at his arm—that looked so real, in this instance. Attached to a body that you could not even fathom in your dreams. You closed your eyes for a moment and could almost feel that phantom touch against your knee. The wetness that seeped into your pants from it. Reopening your eyes, you trailed your gaze from the clenched fist of his thick fingers, to the sharp jut of his clothed elbow. The space between you and it. A grim sort of feeling was beginning to take root in your stomach.

Always at a distance. Never crossing a line.

You took a deep breath.

And then you reached out your hand.

Your fingers sank into the wet material of his jacket. You inhaled sharply through your nose and found you could not pull yourself away for the life of you.

“…What?” you murmured, lightly brushing over his arm. Over and over and over again. Soggy and stiff and so utterly there. You were trapped in a free fall, plummeting down to the earth. “What? No. No, no, no no no.”

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he asked, an unsteady frown overtaking his lips. His voice lowered, barely above a whisper. “I’m right here.”

“No,” was all you could choke out, fingers still feeling at his jacket. Slowly making their way to his elbow, then up his upper arm. Your lips trembled. “No. You—“

Your gaze shot up to his face and suddenly all you could see was him. Honeyed skin and blue eyes and rough scar across his nose. Looking at you so sadly, you almost felt your heart break all over again. An urge, so immense and paralyzing, swept its way throughout the entirety of your body and sank deeply into your very soul. It was all you could do to willingly follow it. You reached up towards his face, stomach twinging, and—

And he flinched away.

“No!” Sebastian suddenly snapped, teeth bared in a sharp snarl.

Your heart skipped a beat. Your entire body jerked back in surprise, your hands retreating towards your chest. He softened almost immediately. A pained grimace overtook his features, and he let out another long sigh.

“I just… Not yet,” he mumbled, shifting away from you so he could wrap his arms around his torso. His gaze lowered to the sand. “Not yet.”

Wide-eyed, you stared at him. You took him in—really took him in. Ear fins that flicked and twitched at the sides of his head. Gray-blue scales that were soaked in the dewy light of the rising moon. Massive tail supporting an equally massive torso. Three arms that tightened and gripped at the folds of his jacket.

This was him. This was really, really him.

And you could not comprehend it.

“I-I—” you stammered, pushing yourself up to your feet. You felt unsteady. Your chest hurt. It was like you couldn’t even think properly with how your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. You clutched at your book as though it was your only lifeline. Maybe it was, at this moment. You took a shaky step back, sand crunching under your shoes. “I need… I need a moment.”

Just to yourself. Just to breathe and process.

The waves ebbed back and forth beyond the cove—the only sound for a few terse minutes.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian told you gently, though he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. His lips pressed together as his head turned away to look out at the sea. “I can wait.”

The next day passed by in a thick haze.

You’d gone to bed feeling completely and utterly spent. Your dreams were filled with muddled images of teal eyes and sharp teeth, this accompanying sense of dread so deep that you woke up still feeling its stifling presence. It felt like you constantly had something pressing down onto your chest. You pulled yourself out of bed and stood in front of the mirror in your bathroom, frowning at your reflection as you rubbed idly at your sternum.

Behind you, reflected in the glass, was your Sebastian. He didn’t say a word. Just stood there and smiled. You lowered your gaze down to your sink and felt your frown deepen.

You went through work feeling oddly detached from your body, your mind swirling constantly with thoughts of the previous evening. If you stared down at your hand—the one you’d used to caress his arm—you could almost feel the sensation of his jacket against your fingertips. The coldness. The wetness. The realness.

God, the realness. You had to cover your face with a hand so you could giggle hysterically into your palm. He was right. You felt stupid. But beyond that, it felt like you were still trapped in some kind of fog. Maybe you’d finally lost it after all this time.

But no, no, this was real. This was happening. You’d felt it yourself.

…Didn’t you want this? Didn’t you spend countless nights thinking about him? How much you missed him. How you would give anything for him to come back to you. The things you would do. The things you would say. It had all evaporated into thin air—was replaced with this hollow feeling that you could not decipher for the life of you.

You’d wanted him back, right?

Your Sebastian, with his— his…

Something in your stomach writhed endlessly.

“Hellooo? You still there?” a voice asked in your ear.

You blinked back to awareness, your phone clutched in your hand. The breakroom of your workplace was empty apart from you sitting at its little table. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry. Zoned out a bit. What were you saying?”

There was a small pause. Then, “Are you… okay?” Isidora asked hesitantly. You could practically hear the frown in her voice. “It’s just… You seem out of it.”

You rubbed a hand across your face. Truthfully, no, but you weren’t about to tell her that. “I’m fine. Work’s just been… work. You know how it is.”

She made a small noise in understanding. “Oh boy, yeah I get it. Just last week I had a 10-hour shift. I swear, some of my coworkers are so incompetent.” She huffed, then her voice softened. “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, I won’t press you about it. Just make sure you’re getting enough sleep, yeah?”

You blew a raspberry at her, your voice taking on a slightly teasing lilt. “What are you, my mom? I’ll be fine.” You paused for a moment, then added, “Speaking of, how’s Maria?”

“She’s fine. Recently took up knitting actually,” Isidora told you. “I think she’s working on a blanket right now. She tried beanies first, but they didn’t turn out all too well.” She snickered.

“Never thought I’d see the day where she’d take up knitting,” you mused.

“I know right? She used to say she’d never get into any ‘old lady hobbies’ and now look at her!”

“She’s not working full-time anymore, right? She’s probably bored.”

“Oh for sure, especially with Lucas not home to cause trouble.”

“Yeah? When’s his spring break?” you asked, glancing over to the wall in the breakroom that had a small calendar hung up on it. It was nearing March.

“Not until next month. We still have some peace and quiet. A little too much, if you ask me.” She sighed, then her voice brightened. “Oh! Actually, Mama and I started going through some old albums the other day. Hang on, there were some pics I wanted to send you...”

You hummed. “She did make a hobby out of album making a while ago, didn’t she?” You thought back to that album of family photos Sebastian kept in his desk—that you ultimately ended up returning. You frowned to yourself.

“Yeah, holy shit you should’ve seen the number of boxes we sorted through,” Isidora said, her voice slightly fainter like she’d removed her phone from her ear. There were a few tapping sounds. “It was nice seeing all our baby pictures. I almost forgot Lucas used to look so cute when he was a toddler.”

You snorted, then removed your phone from your ear when it gave a little buzz of an incoming message. You clicked on the notification banner from Isidora.

Instantly, you could feel the smile fade from your lips.

The first picture was of Sebastian—chubby-faced and missing one of his front teeth as he grinned up at the camera. He was kneeling on a wooden floor as he petted the back of a fluffy, brown cat. There was a bandaid across the bridge of his nose where you knew a rough scar would form, but it didn’t obscure the way his eyes crinkled in delight.

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives.)

The second picture was of you, Sebastian, and his siblings right before you went out Trick or Treating one year. You remembered this. Isidora spent so long trying to help Lucas with his Bumblebee costume—it came with so many different parts. You could barely see the peek of Lucas’ blue eyes past the yellow helmet. Isidora herself dressed up as the girl from The Ring, her long, black hair framing her face in shadows as she stared monotonously forward.

Your gaze lingered on Sebastian, his teeth bared at the camera to show off the two fangs he bought for cheap at a store. Fake blood ran down his chin from the corners of his mouth. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, where you were posing like you were about to bite into his neck. Both of you had black makeup smudged around your eyes and long, flowing capes that you remembered had been a pain to deal with as they dragged along the ground outside.

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales.)

The last picture—

You felt your mouth turn dry like cotton had just been forced into your throat.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

The last picture was of you and him. Dancing in the middle of a small wedding hall. The photographer had caught you mid-laugh. What Sebastian had told you, you didn’t remember now. But you lingered on the way he smiled down at you, cheek dimpling slightly. The warmth of his gaze. The familiar crinkle of his eyes. The way your hands were intertwined tightly together, gold bands glinting on each of your fingers.

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales. Pungent smell of—)

All of them were taken in a way where it was clear they were pictures of the pictures already printed out in their designated albums. God, you had no idea Maria had kept some of these. You could feel a cold sort of feeling spreading throughout your body, numbing everything it came in touch with.

There was a reason why you didn’t keep the pictures you’d had back at your apartment.

And that reason was currently swimming around in the depths of the ocean instead of the bottom of a casket like you’d originally thought.

“I thought you’d want to see them, it’s been so long since”—Isidora’s voice broke off and she cleared her throat—“well, y’know.”

You didn’t even know what to say. “I— yeah.” You blinked, once, then twice. Forcing back the stinging you felt at the corners of your eyes. “Thanks.”

He’s alive, you wanted to tell her. He’s alive he’s alive he’s alive and he’s here and he’s so much different than you or I could have ever possibly imagined.

But… you couldn’t say all that. Not when everything was still so disconcerting for you. Not when you were still struggling to come to terms with it yourself. Not when you knew she would never believe you.

“We still have some more albums to go through. I’ll send you more pictures if I come across them!” Isidora said eagerly. “It’s just… nice to have them, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you forced out, even as it felt like someone had grabbed a fistful of your insides and ruthlessly twisted. “It… It really is.”

That same evening you found yourself pacing relentlessly in your living room.

You could see Sebastian from the corner of your eye as he sat on your couch, his head moving side to side as he followed your movements.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet at that rate,” he told you, idly tugging at the cartilage piercing on his upper ear. “Relax.”

You ignored him.

Glancing out the front window, you could see the sun’s last vestiges of light disappear under the horizon, making way for a cool, dark night. You couldn’t see a wink of moonlight anywhere. Either a cloud was blocking it or it was a new moon, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter though. Your insides felt like you’d swallowed a jar of jittering bees.

You were procrastinating, you knew. But part of you reasoned it was better to go under the cover of an almost vantablack night, the stars your only light. Your gaze darted to Sebastian, one of his feet jiggling slightly from where it was crossed over his knee. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth and turned back to stare out at the black, rolling sea.

Every time you closed your eyes you could see his face—inhuman and unfamiliar.

Did you want him back like this?

Something had happened to him. Something bad. The way he drew away from you was telling—the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eye. You wanted to ask him what happened, how he ended up like… like that. But you were scared of what his response would be.

All this time, he had been alive, somewhere, and you were none the wiser. You were none the wiser. It was as heartbreaking as it was utterly devastating.

You sighed and scrubbed your hands along your face. This wasn’t about you. This was about him—likely waiting for you by the shore. It was time to get a move on.

You patted yourself down and did a final sweep of your living room to make sure you’d packed everything neatly away. Then, you slipped out the front door, the moon finally making its presence known as the clouds parted overhead. Slowly, you made your way to the cove, carefully picking down a few steep rocks until your shoes came into contact with sand. There was a slight chill to the air as you trudged over to your usual spot and stood there, staring out at the sea.

You did not need to wait long.

“You’re here later than normal,” a smooth voice called out pointedly once his head broke through the waves. He swam closer leisurely—the teal glow of his eyes bouncing off the water in front of him—then lounged on his stomach a short distance away. Eyes fell into a half-lidded look. “Was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show up.”

You shifted on your feet, looking away from him to stare at the ground. “No I… I was just waiting for it to get darker.”

Sebastian hummed like he didn’t quite believe you. “Right. Well?” He seemed to brace himself. “I’m sure you have… questions.”

You did. You really, really did—brimming as they were on the tip of your tongue. But you swallowed them down, just for a moment.

“I do,” you told him, “but…” You hesitated.

He picked up on it right away, drawling out a “Buuut?”

You fidgeted with your fingers, rotating your ring around. “Do you… want to come in? First?”

There was a pregnant pause. You grimaced to yourself.

“You mean…?” His head flicked up towards the top of the cove, where your cottage stood idly waiting. The lights were still on inside, making the windows glow a warm, welcoming orange.

You nodded, then flapped your hands around nervously when his expression flattened out—unreadable. “Ah, I mean— I just thought it might be better? Than being out here, you know? But— But if you don’t wanna, we can stay outside, I don’t mi—“

He cut across your fumbling words. “Yeah, we can go. I just…” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze. “Didn’t expect you to offer, really.”

There was… honestly a lot to unpack there. But you could do that later.

“Alright, c’mon.” You lingered in place for a moment, then turned on your heel to make your way back over to the edge of the cove. You glanced over your shoulder when there was the sound of rushing water—thousands of droplets trailing down Sebastian’s torso as he lifted himself up from the tide and slid his way towards you.

It was… oddly captivating, watching him move. The anterior side of his body did not have scales like you’d assumed—there were scutes, instead, that helped him move easily across the sand. The thick muscles of his tail undulated side to side, displacing sand to leave a trail. You watched as the grains were pushed out of the way. The water that fell from his body and darkened the ground.

Shaking your head slightly, you turned to the rocks to begin your steady ascent.

The quiet of the climb was interrupted only by the occasional sound of waves forming and collapsing in the distance. You swept your gaze around the bit of the shore and dock you could see just in case there was anyone wandering about for a late night stroll. Luckily there wasn’t, but even if there was, you didn’t think they would be able to make out anything in the dark.

If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear the steady slithering of Sebastian’s body as he followed somewhere behind you. It made the hairs on your arms stand up straight, the piercing feeling of being watched weighing heavily on your form. You peeked at him from time to time, watching the way he slipped easily over rock and grass. His long, thick tail extended far behind him and blended into the navy-blue shadows.

You… didn’t have much to say. Neither did he, apparently. But that was okay.

You shuffled up the last bit of the climb and rolled your shoulders once your feet found flat earth. Grass tickled at the exposed parts of your ankles as you tread over to your cottage to wait by the door. You couldn’t rid yourself of the prickling along your body.

He took his time to meet you there. You had a feeling that he could be much faster if he wanted.

He came to a stop by your side, his eyes slightly squinted as his tail pushed himself up much higher over you. And the two of you stood there for a moment. You, looking up at him. Him, looking down at you.

Neither of you said a word. Waiting for the other, you realized.

You cleared your throat, eyeing his taller—wider—form, then the front door’s frame. You… believed he would fit. Probably. You set your hand on the doorknob.

“Well,” you said in what you hoped was a casual manner, cracking the door open so that the inside light could spill forth across the shadowed ground. “Here’s home.”

You stepped inside, your body cutting through the light to cast a long shadow behind you. Sebastian hummed, and you looked at him to see he was lingering just out of reach of the light. Your head tilted at him.

“Mind turning the lights off?” he asked, grimacing slightly once the words left his mouth.

Oh. You paused and turned his request over in your head. You supposed you never did see him in broad daylight—it was always during the evening, when the sun had already turned in for the night.

You nodded and shucked your shoes off to the side before walking over to the wall that had your living room light switch on it. You flipped it off, darkness immediately dousing everything within its vicinity. You blinked, waiting for your eyesight to adjust. Moonlight through your open-curtained windows allowed you to just barely make out Sebastian’s form as he slowly moved his head and torso through the doorway. His teal eyes pierced through the shadows to land on you.

He shifted a little. “Wanna see a cool trick?”

“...Sure?” Confusion lined your voice.

The shadow of one of his arms reached up to pull on something and before you knew it, a warm, golden glow washed gently along the walls and floor of your cottage. You squinted slightly at the angler’s lure that curved down from the top of his head, breathtakingly luminescent. Hypnotizing, almost. Your stomach churned.

“S’better on my eyes than regular bulbs,” he explained in your silence, shifting further into the living room. “Easier to handle than the artificial light or whatever. Though darkness is, mh, ideal.”

Ah. “That makes sense.” You watched as his head turned this way and that while he took everything in. Your couch. Your sparse decorations. The small coffee table with books stacked atop it. The fluffy carpet on the floor. It made you feel awfully self-conscious. You rubbed your upper arm.

Exhaling lightly, you stepped back towards the front door once the last bit of his tail slipped inside and closed it gently. And once you turned around, you spent a moment to just… take everything in.

It felt like there wasn’t enough space to hold all of him, curled up as he was in your living room. His long, serpentine tail wrapped around your couch so that the wide flukes at its end rested heavily near your coffee table. And even then, he was still coiled in a way where his tail supported him up, his head nearly brushing the wood of your ceiling where he was tucked in a corner of the room.

A little too large. A little too out of place.

How in the world were you supposed to deal with this? How in the world was any of this real? You were still having difficulty wrapping your head around it.

Sebastian hummed, two of his hands clasping at each other while the third reached out to run its fingers across one of the cushions on your couch. “Cozy.” His gaze landed on you. “How long have you been out here for?”

You shrugged as you shuffled closer, stopping right by the curve of his tail. You stared vacantly down at it. “A while,” you told him. “After everything happened.”

“Not a fan of the city anymore, hm?”

You slowly shook your head. “No. It was just… too much.”

He nodded, a motion that made his lure bob slightly in place. The reach of it caused the room to be partially bathed in both light and shadow that shifted with even the smallest of movements. But you could still see the sopping wetness of his jacket. The way his waterlogged scarf hung heavily from around his neck, and his hair was plastered to the sides of his face. You frowned.

“Do you want a change of clothes or something?” you asked him, the words leaving your mouth before you could really process them. Your gaze trailed along his tail. Even the straps attached to it were still wet. That couldn’t be comfortable for him. Right? “Maybe a towel?”

He waved you off lazily with his third arm. You followed the gesture with your eyes, latched onto the bandages wrapped around his forearm. Those were wet as well. “Nah. I’m fine. Don’t you worry your sweet little head about me.”

Your frown deepened. It felt like all you could do was worry, now.

You fixed him with a stare. “Sebastian, you’re sopping wet. At least dry off. Or let me toss your clothes into the wash.” You pondered it for a moment. “Actually that might be better.” You’d only ever seen him in those clothes, after all—even if most of the time you’d thought he was well, not real.

He only grinned mischievously down at you, mouth full of sharp teeth that made something in your stomach lurch. “Already trying to get me out of my clothes?” he purred, eyes lowering into low crescents. “You rascal. Take a guy out to dinner first.”

You squinted at him. There was an air of forcefulness to his words that you were only just able to pick up on. Bravado. A facade. He was deflecting. And you were not about to be fooled by it.

“You’re making my floor wet,” you said flatly. His smile twitched slightly at the corners. “I’ll go see what I have. Though I don’t think there’s anything that’ll fit you, really.” You eyed his upper torso. “I think I have a large blanket, that might work.”

“I really must decline,” he said cooly, but you were already gone—stepping around his tail to head over to your bedroom. He called out your name in exasperation. “Are you listening to me? I said I’m fine.”

“Right, right,” you replied idly, opening your bedroom door so you could shuffle over to your closet in the dark. There were various linens stacked up on a shelf, and you pulled out a towel and a decently-sized blanket that you used occasionally when it was chillier. This would have to do. The thought saddened you.

Bundling them up in your arms, you shut the door with your heel and turned to make your way back to the living room.

Sebastian loomed in the doorway, the light from his lure gently lighting up the corners of your room. One of his hands braced against the top of the frame as he peered at you. “Awfully persistent, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Come now,” you said as you approached him. He moved out of the way so you could step through the frame and look up at him. “Surely you don’t want to keep those on?” You held up the towel. “Here.”

“I assure you, I am more than a little used to some wet clothes,” he drawled as he reached out to carefully take it from your grasp. In his hold, it looked much smaller. He clutched it in a fist.

“Well, you don’t have to be”—you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder in the general direction of where your washer and dryer were tucked away—“It wouldn’t take too lon—”

He growled—a sound that made your hairs stand straight up on your nape. The room darkened fractionally. “I said no.” Eyes narrowing, he set you with a firm look. “You’ll quit asking if you know what’s good for you.”

There was a moment where you just watched him. Observed him, your eyes flicking over his face. The hair partially shielding his eyes. The way his lips pressed together in a thin line. This was not a battle you would win. And that was okay. Baby steps.

You took a deep breath. And then you exhaled it all out.

“Okay, okay,” you relented softly, averting your gaze to walk over to your couch. You dumped the blanket over it, then sat down wearily. “You win, for now. I don’t suppose you happen to have anything else to wear?” It was futile to ask, but you had to anyway.

“This was what I was given,” he said dryly, shifting on his tail so that he sat coiled upon it somewhere in front of you. He fidgeted with the towel. “You learn to make do.”

And wasn’t that a sobering thought.

You bit at your bottom lip, your fingers wringing together as you watched him use the towel to carefully dry his hair. You burned and burned with the number of questions that lingered bitterly on your tongue. You swallowed, and one of his ear fins twitched slightly.

Quietly, you asked, “What… happened?”

He stilled, staring down at the towel gripped between his fingers. And after what felt like a long, long time, he sighed.

“Better get comfortable,” he mumbled wearily and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “It’s a long story.”

You were woefully unprepared for a single thing that left his mouth.

A fake execution report. An experiment to give humans gills. Being trapped in an underwater facility for years. It all sounded like something straight out of fiction. You were beyond stupefied. In hindsight, thinking he was a hallucination wasn’t even the worst of it all, but it certainly didn’t make it easier to get rid of your own struggles with him actually being here right now. Part of you wondered if he was lying to you to avoid talking about something unfathomably worse—if such a thing even existed.

But he wasn’t. You saw it in the way his jaw tensed from time to time. The way he flexed his fingers and his tone changed into something much cooler. And even if what he was saying didn’t sound possible… it made sense. It made sense.

You didn’t know what to do with all of it. Didn’t know how to react, really. There was this gnawing pit in your chest that worsened with every word that left his mouth. You… couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had gone through. And even then, there were things he certainly wasn’t telling you. Call it intuition but… you could sense it. He didn’t tell you everything. And you were not sure how to feel about that. Still…

All this time… All this time.

And you’d been none the wiser.

“So how did you… escape?” you asked as you rubbed your fingers into your temples to stave off a growing headache.

Sebastian grinned, a sharp thing that showed the dark gums of his teeth. “They let their guard down.” The grin turned into more of a baring of teeth. “I stole a keycard, caused a sitewide lockdown. Liaised with one of Urbanshade’s competitors and they got me out in exchange for selling them data.”

You blinked at him. There it was again, that feeling that he was purposely leaving out details. You didn’t call him out on it. “And then you came… here?”

He made a noise, his shoulders shrugging. “Sure.”

“How did you even find—?”

He cut you off with a snort. “The power of corporations, babe. It was easy for them to find your location. Made my life easier when it turned out you were living on the coast now, too.”

You weren’t even going to deliberate that too deeply. “They just let you come here?” you asked dubiously.

“Mmmmyep.” He scratched slightly at the side of his face. “Don’t be mistaken, I’m still in contact with them. For ah, other business purposes.”

“Other business purposes,” you repeated warily.

Sebastian gave you a close-mouthed smile, his eyes crinkling shut. “Don’t you worry about it.”

Right, this again. It felt like you’d just aged fifty years in one sitting. You sighed and leaned back into the couch, your arms crossing over your chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you wrestled internally with all that you had learned. A weight had been placed upon your shoulders. But you knew it was nothing compared to the one he carried on his own. You frowned, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

You felt sick. So, utterly, sick.

Sebastian was quiet now that he’d said his piece. He wrung the towel still in his hands together as he glanced around your cottage again. Eyes jumping from one thing to the other, though you had no idea what he was searching for specifically. Eventually, though, he spoke once more.

“...You never remarried.” It was said more as a statement than a question, like he knew even before saying it. You supposed if he’d been watching you all this time, it would have become apparent that you lived by yourself. You watched him carefully.

“No,” you replied simply. You showed him the ring still on your finger, the gold glinting up at him. “See?”

His gaze flicked down to look at your hand. His head tilted slightly, the light on his lure brightening minutely.

“Aww,” he cooed, “I knew you were still madly in love with me.”

You gave him a look—stricken as you were by his words. “Of course,” you said quietly, looking off to the side. “Always.”

He seemed to sober up at your words. He cleared his throat and looked away. But you still continued to gaze at him, your eyes flicking down to his third arm where you could see that glint of a band around his fourth finger. You hesitated, then steeled yourself for what you were about to ask of him.

“Sebastian,” you murmured. His ear fin flicked, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “Give me your hand.” Then, after a pause, you added, “Please.”

You think the request caught him off guard, just a little. He opened his mouth, but before a single word could escape, he glanced at your face and closed it abruptly. You wondered what he saw there. You waited as he seemed to mull your request over in his head. Then, he shifted closer to the couch—his larger body looming over your own and painting you in gentle, soothing light.

You reached out a hand, patient. He eyed it, then slowly, so slowly, he extended one of his arms.

You shook your head. “No, not that one.” You pointed to his third arm. “That one.”

He seemed taken aback. “You…” he trailed off, then shook his head with a sigh. “Alright.”

He lifted his arm up and reached towards you. Leaning forward, you met him halfway. But before you could touch him, you flicked your gaze up to his face. He watched you. Quiet. Intent. Not a single breath being taken between the two of you.

Your hands grasped at his own. Real, real, real, real. It was… strange. Different. You couldn’t help the way your insides writhed and writhed and writhed. Inhuman. Unfamiliar. His hand, even one that was starkly smaller than his other two, was so much larger than yours, now. Thicker. Colder. Harder. It felt like he had a shell of some sort encasing his fingers. And the tips of them were sharp like the end of a blade—carefully curled away from you as they were. You held onto one of his fingers and pondered upon the distinctness. Lost yourself in the feeling. His finger twitched under your grip.

(“Hey.” Sebastian nudged you with his foot, forcing you to tear your gaze away from your notes to raise an eyebrow at him. He was sitting on the other side of the couch, his back pressed against its arm. “Let me see your hand for a sec?”

“What for?” you asked warily, yet still extended your hand out to him. He gave you a small grin, then took your palm with a contemplative hum.

His free hand went up to his chin in thought as he twisted your own this way and that. “Ah. Just as I thought.”

“What?” you pressed him, not liking the glint in his blue eyes.

“You’re missing something,” he told you. “Something so important that I fear you might die if you don’t get it soon. Shit’s fatal, you know.”

You lowered your eyelids at him, not believing him for a second. “And that is?”

Sebastian hummed, nodding slightly to himself, before he laced your fingers together. Your palms pressed against one another, the sensation of warm skin encompassing your own. “There. You’re cured. You're welcome, by the way.”

You puffed out a laugh and tried to fruitlessly yank your hand away. His grip tightened. “Sebastian, how are we going to get any work done like this, huh?”

“Not my problem. I can work just fine with one hand.” He wiggled the fingers of his free hand at you, the black polish on his nails slightly chipped at the tips.

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. “Your hand’s all sweaty.”

“Rude. My hands aren’t sweaty, yours are.”

You gave him the stink eye. “No you.”

He mirrored your expression back at you. “Alright, get over here you little—” With a swift yank, he tugged you over to him. Yelping, you felt yourself get dragged across the couch until you found yourself trapped within his arms. They tightened around your body, and for extra measure, you felt one of his legs hook around the back of your own.

You gave a halfhearted wiggle, your cheek pressed against his chest. “This doesn’t help either of our productivities.” Your voice was muffled a bit. If you inhaled even just a little bit, you could smell his musk covered by the sweet scent of cinnamon. “You stink.”

He tightened his hold. You could feel his head lower to rest atop your own. “Think about what you’ve done and maybe I’ll let you go,” he murmured into your ear. You could practically hear the devious grin in his voice.

You only sighed in resignation and hid your smile in his shirt.)

You shook your head slightly, pushing down the ugly feelings crawling up your throat. Focus on the here and now. Peering closely at his fourth finger, you observed the gold band.

“That’s—a big ring,” you said slowly, squinting at it. There was no way that was the same one you both had exchanged at your wedding. It was much bigger, for one. And simpler. “What happened to the one I gave you?”

“Broke,” he replied with a forced casualness that you could smell from a mile away. His tail shifted behind him.

You raised an eyebrow. “Broke?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Y’know, when the whole”—he gestured to his body loosely with a hand, making it seem like it wasn’t as big of a deal—“happened.”

“I see.” You cocked your head, running your thumb over the large ring. Once, then twice, then thrice. “So you found a new one?”

He grumbled something low under his breath. You glanced up at him to find him pressing the towel into the lower part of his face, not quite able to look at you anymore. “Yeah,” he begrudgingly admitted. There was a warmth in your stomach, somewhere, fed by the rosiness that you could see on his cheeks. You willed the feeling to chase away all the others that simmered under your skin.

You gave him a small, teasing smile. “Hmm. I knew you were still madly in love with me.”

He sniffed and tugged his hand away from your grip—incensed now that you threw his own words back at him. You let him go willingly, your smile turning into a grin. Your hands tingled in the aftermath of holding his own. “Shuddup, weirdo.”

You chuckled and spent a quiet, peaceful moment just sitting together in your cottage. Listening to the vague ticking of the clock that rested somewhere on a wall. You breathed in, then out, willing your mind to cease its incessant buzzing.

“...What now?” you quietly asked, your question lingering in the finite space of your living room.

Sebastian only watched you, his eyes a gentle glow. “I don’t know.”

You exhaled through your nose and glanced outside at the darkened sky. You could feel a specific kind of fatigue itching at your eyes. It was late, and the events of this evening had been so utterly exhausting. Still were, honestly. Rubbing a hand down your face, you stood up and stretched out your arms.

“It’s getting late,” you said, rolling your shoulders. “I need to sleep, I have work in the morning.”

He blinked, seeming to startle out of thought, and flicked his eyes over your face. His lips pursed. “Right, yeah,” he grumbled, shifting as he straightened up and turned towards your front door. “I’ll get outta your hair then—”

Instantly, your heart leapt up in your chest. You stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm. He jerked slightly before he turned to give you a questioning look. Pulling away, you held your hands in front of your sternum. “You’re leaving?” You did not want to admit to the vulnerability that coated your voice.

“...Duh?” He hesitated. “Don’t you… want me to?”

“Not at all,” you told him, stepping back to give him some space. “You can stay.” Then, timidly, you added, “For as long as you want.” You… thought it was a given that he could.

Sebastian stared. He stared and he stared and he stared until finally he slouched forward and released a long, long breath. “...Thanks.” One of his hands scrubbed at his face. He looked so tired. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Make yourself comfortable.” You gestured at the living room, the blanket still piled upon your couch. “I’ll grab you a pillow, one sec.” You took a step back towards your room, then paused and turned back around. “Oh, I can take the towel too.”

He didn’t seem much for conversation anymore. He only nodded and handed back the towel to you, damp as it was from mopping up the water from his body. You could feel his eyes on you as you scurried back into your bedroom to sling the towel into your laundry hamper and grab an extra pillow from your bed.

“Here you are,” you said as you reentered the living room and tossed the pillow in his direction. You hoped it didn’t have any of your hair on it. He grabbed it out of the air with one hand, something contemplative to his gaze. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I think I have leftovers.” You shifted, pointing your thumb behind you at your bedroom. Was this okay? “I’ll… just be in there if you need me.”

And there it was again. That look on his face like he was battling something mentally. Like there was something just barely on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. He held onto himself, hands gripping at the folds of his jacket. Gazing at you so— so….

You hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do. You both were not the same as you’d been all those years ago. It made the air thick with something that went unacknowledged.

You broke the silence with a gentle clear of your throat. Baby steps, you reminded yourself. “Well… good night.” “...Good night,” he whispered, still watching you with this look in his eyes as you stepped into your room and finally closed your bedroom door with a quiet click.

part three

#icb i let this fic beat me up in an alleyway like this #shay scribbles daydreams #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #<- still takes me out #who i see au #if u guys saw that lactose intolerant fact ignore it i was wrong LMFAOO

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paigebueckersmommy · 4 months ago

Text

i remember everything - p.b

paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings- drinking, suggestive?, rlly cheesey, sex implied but not written, mention of the infamous ice live

a/n: erm lmk if u like this or if i should do a pt 2, if i do a pt 2 lmk what to make it abt 😭

“rot gut whiskeys gonna ease my mind”

it seemed the only thing getting you and paige’s breakup off your mind was getting absolutely shit faced every chance you had.

that was until one weekened. it was a friday night and you were at a bar. about to take a shot with your friends when suddenly out of the corner of your eye, you saw your the 6ft blonde.

she was in a circle with her teammates, smiling and laughing with a drink in her hand.

oh.

she looked beautiful, the same type of beautiful she looked the time she took you too the beach at sunset.

4 months earlier

“i wish i didn’t, but i do, remember every moment on the nights with you.”

paige’s arms were secure around you as you sat in front of her on the beach, it was almost dark out. your head was draped in the crook of her neck.

“thank you p..” you said, it was almost a whisper, and you didn’t know exactly what you were thanking her for. and paige didn’t answer. instead of answering you with words, she grabbed your chin gently and placed a soft kiss to your lips.

a couple minutes of comforting silence later, you and paige had walked to the car, her hand in yours. your thumb grazed your knuckles the whole way to your apartment, and she walked you inside and pulled you into a silent hug reaching your apartment.

you loved how you and paige could sit in silence, and it be one of the most comforting things, her presence was all you needed. she slowly led you to your bedroom with the smirk you loved.

“you were begging me to stay till the sun rose,”

you and paige were a tangle of limbs only a few hours later, laying skin to skin. “can you stay, p?” you say, almost a whisper as paige layed on your chest, as you played with her long blonde hair.

“why wouldn’t i, baby? paige smiled, “i love you, so much.” paige added, saying ‘so much’ with added emphasis.

end of flashback

you looked up from your drink, silently avoiding your friends, expect this time paige’s eyes were on you. you quickly looked back down, expect you still felt her eyes on you.

it was a little later now, you would’ve left already but your friend gave you a ride, you walked up to the bar, again, ordering what you told yourself was gonna be your last drink, you paid, and returned your gaze to where paige was standing earlier.

except now, it wasn’t just paige. her arms were around a girl wearing a mint top, azzi? you thought to yourself.

paige bueckers was kissing a new girl. oh.

your eyes lingered on them for a few moments before paige saw you, her smile dropping again.

“i wish i didn't, but i do, remember every moment on the nights with you.”

a/n: pls lmk if you like this 🙏 i tried something new i think? idk

#Spotify #paige bueckers fluff #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #ncaa women’s basketball #wlw fiction #lesbian #ncaa wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader

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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 4 months ago

Text

Lucifer — I really miss your face

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4

an: wow this took a while lmfao,,

CW: enemies to lovers, lucifer hates you lol (part 1), slight angst (part 2), angst in part 3 (BECAUSE THERE'S ANGST IN THE SONG) he insults u in his mind multiple times (part 1), events in lessons 16 ifykyk, also this lowkey follows the og obey me timeline and events but like i dont feel like adding the whole time travel thing lol, suggestive, nsfw is described a bit (part 3)

A parasite.

That is what Lucifer would describe you now, a parasite that has invaded his heart, his mind, perhaps, even his very soul that has long turned dark.

You were a parasite that buried itself within the deep recesses of his thoughts, his feelings, and his emotions, a parasite that burrowed itself into his family and has infected him with endless thoughts of your own self.

Even if you weren't by his side.

He was the one to bear witness to the sight of you opening your pretty little eyes after your nap, recovering from his little brother's rough ministrations on your person, even if it was against Diavolo's orders.

That was cruel of Diavolo, Lucifer thought to himself then, but he knew that the Demon Lord had done it out of concern for your well-being. Because other than the fact that one of his brothers had almost prematurely ended your life—making them the biggest threat to your life at the very moment, Diavolo has also put Belphegor's life into your hands.

At least, that's what he told the remaining six rulers of devildom when they barged into his castle, despite the eldest supposedly being stuck on house arrest.

"It was them that Belphegor had sinned against," Diavolo had explained, his arms crossed against his chest, the tone of his voice making it clear to the brothers that his decision was final.

"Whatever they decide his rightful fate will be is what I will follow."

The Future Demon King then went on to reiterate that not one of them is allowed to see you before you made your decision regarding Belphegor, as he was afraid that the brothers might influence your thinking—one way or another.

Yet, here his right-hand man stood, watching as you open your eyes for the first time since the incident.

Sure, he was here to apologize on his brother's behalf and to attempt to plead his case to save his youngest brother, but that wasn't the sole reason why he was here, and he knows that your current caretaker, Solomon, knew that. And maybe that's why the sorcerer had allowed him to see you, promising not to tell a single soul about this visit.

Or maybe that conniving sorcerer just can't allow an opportunity to make Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride himself, be indebted to him. Either way, Lucifer ought to worry about that at a later time.

"Lucifer," you call out to him softly, effectively pulling him back to reality and away from his thoughts.

Faced with the object of his affection, Lucifer can't help as a hand raises up to fix a strand of his hair to ensure he looked perfect; he stood a little straighter and puffed out his chest—reminiscent of that of a peacock, showing off to attract the attention of a potential mate.

As much as Lucifer wanted to express his concern toward you, his time was limited. There's only so much that he could do before either Barbatos or Diavolo catches wind that something isn't right, and not only will he be the one to receive the consequence of his actions, but possibly Solomon as well.

And so, Lucifer went straight to the point. He can see your eyes widen as the Eldest of the Seven Rulers of Devildom bows his head towards you before he apologized profusely on his brother's behalf.

It's a huge blow to his pride, yes, but it doesn't matter to him.

If you asked him to get on his knees and lick your shoes just to ensure his youngest brothers' safety, he'll do it in a heartbeat. His brothers are always his priority, pride be damned.

You, however, poor, innocent, delicate you, had asked him to do no such thing. Instead, you only asked one simple question:

"Why does Belphegor hate humans so much?"

Lucifer had limited time to be with you, and so, he told you a condensed version of his brother's story, if only to appeal to your emotions. That's one thing that made humans so weak and vulnerable, after all; They're more prone to think with their heart rather than their minds.

And with the serious look on your face, Lucifer had known that he had already accomplished what he set out to do. With a wave, the eldest wished you well, inciting his wishes to see you running around the mansion with his brothers soon.

That was the last time Lucifer got to have alone time with you.

To no one's surprise, you chose to forgive Belphegor and let him go. An act that the youngest was surprised to hear, but delighted in nonetheless. You had also returned to the House of Lamentation, and despite the tension between you and the youngest at first, the Avatar of Sloth eventually ended up warming up to you.

Lucifer once overheard the twins talking about you and heard that Belphie had started warming up to the delightful human because he reminded them of their sister.

He would beg to differ.

To him, you were nothing like Lilith, but whatever ensures your safety and his brother's happiness is good enough for him.

Much to his delight and perhaps, a bit of disdain, ever since that night, you had ended up spending most of your time around the youngest.

With Belphegor's clinginess, and his other brothers' tendency to get jealous of the youngest hogging all of your attention; Lucifer found himself drawing the shortest end of the stick—never finding the time to be able to insert himself in your schedule.

However, with it comes the blessing of being able to think straight—something that he has found himself incapable of doing whenever you were within his immediate area. He finally had the time to sort out his feelings towards you, and what he was supposed to do with it.

The first apparent thought that came to mind was to let you know of it and to make you his... but that was his heart talking, not his mind.

You and he only had a year to be together, and half of it was spent with him hating on your entire existence before even realizing he had feelings for you, and now, the second half is being used by his brothers hogging all of your time left in Devildom.

You were only supposed to be here for a year, you weren't going to stay here forever. Your paths were never meant to converge for a long time, and he knew that.

Even if he confessed to you, and by some form of miracle, you felt the same.... what then?

You go back to the human world and he stays here in the Devildom, with the both of you living your lives miserably until the end of your days?

No, he can't possibly do that to you. He was meant to just be a passing face in your life, and as much as the thought annoys him, you deserved someone who can be by your side. You had your life ahead of you in your own realm, maybe even find a lover who can never treat you as well as he does but will make you happy all the same.

It was just never meant to be. Lucifer had decided then, he was not to speak of his feelings to you, he'd let you live your life thinking that one demon that you had met and spent time with for a year in your life hated you.

He had no room for temptation, no room to doubt his own decision as you spent most of your remaining days with his brothers, down to your last night in the Devildom.

Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten you were a parasite.

An enigma, a tantalizing mystery veiled in ethereal beauty, a cruel riddle he yearned to decipher. It's a cruel twist of fate, denying him the chance to unravel the secrets of this captivating enigma before it slips through his fingertips.

And no matter how strong his resolve may be, it easily crumbles before the very presence of the biggest temptation Lucifer has ever faced; you.

The mere brush of your lips ignited a profound addiction within him, spreading like wildfire through the fibers of his very being. Every thought consumed by you, your body pressed against his, the tantalizing warmth of your kiss.

He wonders if it will be even warmer when he's inside of you.

His solid resolve immediately crumbled at that moment, whispers of the promises he had made to himself dead in the night immediately thrown out of the window amidst your overpowering presence. The new and foreign feeling of his newly made pact mark with you throbs, and the delightful feeling made him lose his mind.

As his lips met the tender warmth of yours, his once impenetrable resolve shattered into fragments, and whispers of the promises he had made to himself dead in the night were abruptly cast aside, discarded with reckless abandon in the face of your overwhelming presence.

A surge of unfamiliar sensations surged through his veins, ignited by the newly made pact mark with you. In the embrace of this newfound bliss, his sanity slipped away, consumed by the euphoria that rendered him utterly spellbound to you.

That's right. What was he even thinking before? Letting you go to be with someone else? No. You are his, aren't you? These marks confirmed them.

Your words confirmed them.

In the haze of his emotions, all rational thoughts were effortlessly drowned, consumed by an insatiable yearning that rose to the forefront of his consciousness. With a swift and eager motion, his hands found solace in the gentle cradle of your face, his gaze ablaze with intensity as he drank in every delicate contour of your features.

"I've always known you wanted to do this," He whispers, his breath caressing your parted lips, igniting a flicker of electricity upon your skin. You watch his eyes hooded with a primal hunger enough to make you question Asmodeus' title as the Avatar of Lust. "And I know what you'd like to do next as well."

In that instant, his crimson gaze meets yours, and a soft curse escapes his lips. Your eyes meet his, glimmering with a mix of longing and anticipation. Lucifer's insatiable lust courses through his veins, igniting a fire that radiates from the depths of his being, settling low in his abdomen.

The next few hours became a tapestry of euphoria. An intoxicating elation coursed through Lucifer's being, unrivaled by any sensation he had experienced in what could have been centuries. He found himself immersed in a blissful haze, utterly consumed by the essence of your presence, as if etching the taste of your lips, the gentle touch of your skin against his, into the very fabric of his soul.

In the midst of his bliss, his guard faltered and, in a moment of vulnerability, words slipped from his tongue that were never meant to be uttered.

"I love you,"

He hadn't noticed his mistake at the time, but you did.

In the ensuing silence that followed such a passionate night where you both found yourselves amidst the chaos of his usually pristine sheets, his arms pulling you close, you didn't shy away from bringing it up.

"You... mentioned something." You spoke, voice quiet and still breathless from the exertion that lasted for hours.

"I've said many things throughout the night. You'll have to be more specific." He responds, voice almost a hum, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think there's a hint of delight in his words.

"You said..." You take a deep breath, deciding there isn't a need to beat around the bush. "You said 'I love you',"

Lucifer does not falter.

Fear, nervousness, panic, and other feeble emotions are foreign concepts to him, for he was meticulously crafted in perfection and shall forever embody perfection even as his once celestial halo transformed into demonic horns.

The Morning Star, God's favorite angel.

The Avatar of Pride, Diavolo's favorite demon.

In essence, such emotions would never be the catalyst for error. After all, Lucifer doesn't make mistakes.

"You must have been mistaken." Lucifer spoke, voice deep, emotionless.

At least, that's what he'd like to believe.

"I'd never feel such a thing for you."

When the next day came, Lucifer woke up to an empty bed.

And the day after that, and the ones after that.

Just as Lucifer had anticipated, you both went your separate ways. You returned to your world, and he's stuck in his own. The memories of that night were the only thing keeping him going — a haunting recollection of your touch and the solace of your warmth.

True to your parasitic nature, even in your absence, you had woven an intricate web that ensnared his very being, leaving a void—vast and consuming—in his heart that has long turned to ice.

Your presence lingers like a haunting melody, woven into the very fabric of his surroundings; In the shadows of the House of Lamentation and the echoing halls of RAD, he glimpses fleeting reflections of you in every corner. Your presence whispers through the corridors, and echoes of your name resonate in the playful banter of his younger brothers.

Despite it all, he didn't dare reach out.

Even after establishing a schedule of communication between you and his brothers, he dared not include himself in the mix. Stuck in a silent yearning that remains unvoiced, buried beneath layers of restraint and unspoken desires.

Lucifer knows not where the future will take him, where these feelings will take him.

All he knows for sure is that he'd never love like this again.

#obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader

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boy-comics · 24 days ago

Note

Hiii! Your crush posts got me thinking. And I feel like we are missing one last scenario for them, where xdz realizes that y/n has a crush on them (before they even realize it themselves or have the chance to confess).👀👀 May I request that to complete the “trilogy”?

— ✨

XDINARY HEROES REALIZING YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON THEM

── .✦ tags; swearing, drinking

── .✦ a/n; wow my first emoji anon!!! hihi <3 you're so right. here's pt 3 to the crush trilogy (edit 11/13/2024: now with a part 4!) :)) (pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 4)

── .✦ gunil;

the only thing more shocking than the bottle stopping on him is the fact that you had agreed to play in the first place.

he's not one to deny his own feelings—the mere possibility of being shoved into a closet with you was the reason he had joined this game. honestly, he could take this whole situation as a sign in his favor. but with the way you had flattened yourself against the opposite wall as soon as you had entered, your silence palpable in the dark, narrow space, he knows that this is not the time to confess.

so, heart beating against his rib cage, he does what he does best.

you know, i actually have a funny story about getting stuck in a closet.

it works like a charm. before long, you let slip a giggle, and by the time he's done the nervousness emanating from you has receded significantly. gunil feels quite proud of himself.

i'm glad i'm in here with you. nobody else appreciates my stories like you do.

o-oh? well, they're funny, so … you trail off, and gunil thinks that is all, but then you keep going. i'm glad it's you, too.

keep it cool, gunil tells himself, but his hopes soar anyway. really? why?

w-well, you're nice, and you're always making sure i'm comfortable. and, u-um, i know what this game is usually for, and if that happened, i—um, u-uh …

he takes the plunge. you wouldn't mind kissing me?

you audibly gulp. then you take a deep breath. i wouldn't mind.

gunil doesn't care how many minutes you have left in the closet. his face almost hurts from smiling as he steps forward, finding your shoulder and then your hand, mindful of the way your breath hitches and your hand clings to his.

how about now, then?

── .✦ jungsu;

it's a bit of a thing between the two of you, sharing things. one may even consider it the basis of your friendship. from jackets and umbrellas when it rains to sections of fruit and chunks of bread during lunch, jungsu has come to cherish the way one of you is always looking after the other.

today, it's a sweet and salty pretzel from this new place just down the street. the price of the pretzel is split between the two of you, but you've each bought your own smoothies as well, and jungsu eyes the bright green of your choice with curiosity.

you take notice. it's really good, you say. do you want to try?

he does want to try it, and therein lies the dilemma. sharing a pretzel is fine. chips, apple slices, ice cream if you each have your own spoons—all of these things he can share with you without a second thought. but drinks? he looks at the straw in your cup and imagines tasting where your lips have been, and the terrible fluster of heat crawling up his neck has him stumbling over his words.

it takes a moment before your eyes widen and you let out a small oh, gripping your drink in realization.

i-i guess that would be weird, wouldn't it …?

do … do you think it's weird?

it is then that jungsu notices, completely without intention, the way your eyes flicker down and linger on his mouth before you look away.

you shake your head softly. no. not if it's you.

it's just one glance and a couple of words strung together. but as if a veil has been removed, understanding begins to dawn on him, and he gets the fluttering sense that maybe this stupid crush isn't so stupid.

tentatively, he offers his own drink to you. you swap smoothies and the way you try to hide your smile when you take a sip, looking like something out of a movie, makes him smile too.

── .✦ gaon;

his friends have been calling it a situationship. and they've started scheming, and jiseok is just about ready to dig a hole and bury himself because the last thing he needs is for you to catch wind of how down bad he is.

he should've brought a shovel today, because he's ninety-nine percent sure that the "outing" he's on right now is a double date.

your two friends sit together, coordinated outfits and all, on the train ride to the maze park. jiseok and you, with your non-matching outfits, are seated just across the aisle.

he shares a glance with you, hoping against hope that his face isn't too red.

did you know they were together?

nope.

i think we're third wheeling.

you laugh, and yeah, his face is definitely turning red.

the maze is even worse. you and jiseok somehow (and he's not dumb, he knows the others wouldn't get lost that easily) end up wandering it by yourselves. he's not complaining about it. he's thrilled, actually. but it's just ... it's you, and he likes you, and he wants to hold your hand so bad and he's not because he's not dating you.

his hand bumps against yours.

he holds his breath—then almost chokes on it when your ring and pinkie fingers hook around his without a word. balking at the sight, jiseok searches your expression for something, anything.

you shrug, seeming almost nervous. it's safer this way, right?

all he can do at the moment is nod vigorously. a dopey grin plasters itself to his face as your hand shifts to wrap around his fully, and you continue walking, not particularly concerned about racing to the exit anymore.

── .✦ o.de;

he figures it out immediately.

you have always grumbled about how seungmin can read you like a book, deciphering every carefully worded phrase and facial twitch with a swiftness that would make sherlock holmes jealous. so when he sees your expression that fateful night in your room, so soon after your heartbreak, he makes the decision to act as if everything is normal.

the problem is, you can't seem to do the same.

he wonders if you know that he knows. that he can feel the split second of stiffness when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, catch the higher pitch of your replies when he compliments you, see the new softness in your eyes when you share a smile. probably not.

romantic relationships haven't treated you kindly. seungmin wants to do it right, and that means going at your pace. he is your best friend first and foremost, and he'll always be that no matter what you decide to do.

so with every family dinner, every chaotic moment wrangling your siblings, every time you lean in just to pull away, he remains by your side. expecting nothing, hoping for everything, loving you always.

(but, god, it's torture sometimes.)

── .✦ junhan;

he isn't supposed to know.

your band is working on your latest mini album, and at your request, he stops by the studio to help out with the guitar part. it's a bit late, and he's more than a little tired, but the thought of working on music together has him feeling excited anyway.

it's fun. really, as long as he gets to play and spend time with you, hyeongjun is happy, and once he overcomes the anxiety of doing so in front of your friends, he even wonders when he can do this again.

during a short break, he excuses himself to the restroom. he checks his phone and replies to a couple texts, so it takes a little longer than planned.

the door to the studio is open a crack when he returns. but just as he's about to push it open further, the mention of his name stops him in his tracks.

—and hyeongjun?

have you not been here the past two hours? i'll bet 30,000 won that they're sneaking around right now.

please. with the way our precious guitarist looks at him, i'll bet 50,000 that they wish they were sneaking around.

what are you doing?

hyeongjun internally thanks himself for appearing calm at the sudden sound of your voice, even as his heart jumps into his throat when he turns around to blink at you. the gossiping in the studio hushes.

ah, nothing.

when he shuffles in with you, your bandmates alternate between avoiding eye contact or staring straight at him, and he knows he's been found out. you seem none the wiser.

the way you look at him. hyeongjun's brain goes a little fuzzy at the edges as he picks at his guitar strings, your presence next to him warm and lovely.

he is willing to wait.

── .✦ jooyeon;

for the most part, jooyeon is willing to behave himself around you.

what does that mean? well, for starters, he doesn't run off every single person who hits on you whenever you go out for drinks. hell, he doesn't even interrupt the conversation unless you seem uncomfortable. he's not your boyfriend, after all.

but this guy is making you uncomfortable, and jooyeon's more than happy to abandon social niceties and punt this clown into orbit.

he strolls over and presses himself next to you, smiling blankly when your suitor sends him an irritated look. hi. you mind fucking off?

who the fuck are you?

before jooyeon can reply with a properly unpleasant remark, you beat him to it. as far as you're concerned, my boyfriend, so get lost.

thankfully, the guy seems to be too drunk to notice how sharply jooyeon turns his head to look at you. he grumbles something and stumbles away, and jooyeon is left standing by your side, gaze wide and smile stretching into a grin as you stare into the crowd.

boyfriend?

i'm drunk, you say.

you didn't call me your boyfriend the other times you were drunk.

it's different now.

what do you mean by different, jooyeon wants to ask. what do you mean?! but you've already squeezed his forearm and gone back to everyone else.

the rest of the night is a blur. he doesn't sleep a wink when he gets home, thinking about what you had meant, and by the time the sun rises, jooyeon has concluded that it could only mean one thing—

he has a fucking chance.

#xdh imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh #xdinary heroes #gunil x reader #jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #o.de x reader #junhan x reader #jooyeon x reader #xh #xh scenarios #beecee's writing #beecee's requests #✨ anon #anon

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sabh0 · 6 months ago

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What's your opinion on the anime? I find it pretty funny, but I can't say that I am not disappointed to see so many scenes missing.

For exemple, I wanted to see Dazai cry laugh at Chuuya's young mistress act, show that it was a joke shared by both of them, rather than one made to us at the expense of Chuuya. They took a genuinely funny moment and made me cringe SO hard for no reason T^T

God i could go on for hours about how Bones ruined this series. I'm obviously thankful we have an anime adaptation but. Well just compare bsd anime to jjk one or smth and yeah.

I will be complaining more under the cut,,

First the overall writing choices:

-Deleting or changing skk scenes to the point im not even shocked when ppl think these two actually somehow hate each other.

-The way they portrayed Sigma. They deleted half of his personality and backstory. And just speedrunned the Sky Casino arc like if seeing that place was giving them nightmares. No wonder he gets mischaracterized now.

-Tachihara's internal conflict about belonging to either Port Mafia or The Hunting Dogs? Bones never heard about it. It's not like IT'S A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT.

-Akutagawa's whole character in the anime is just 'edgy and angry and bad grr'. In the manga he had some 'kind' or even seelf-reflection moments that were ommited in the anime. Like where he realizes defeating Atsushi didn't satisfy him (ship fight, season 1). Or when he gives files about the orphanage Director to Atsushi and says he won't fight him today because he lost someone impirtant to him. Sskk vs Fukuchi fight?? No scene where Sskk r helping each other walk. Instead we get Akutagwa just pushing Atsushi away. Won't even start on that last smile that looked more like another angry expression.

-THE WAY THEY CHANGED "DAZAI'S ENTRANCE EXAM" INTO SOME CURRENT TIMELINE EPISODES. IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY LIKE. THIS NOVEL WAS SO GOOD. Showing both Dazai and Kunikida's characters and partnership so well. But no. Let's just??? Put Atsushi there. Let's delete the fact this thing happened 2 years ago. And let's delete everything that was actually important about it, too.

-also some changes in the Dark Era arc. Like. Lord. Dazai is so much more emotional in the novel. His expressions r described so well. But the anime either shows him from the back at those moments (him finding out Oda was almost killed by a sniper in Ango's room) or just deletes/changes the thing (Oda dying. This scene is so emotional in the novel. From the description u can tell Dazai was crying/on the verge of it as Odasaku died. But in the anime he looks calm and then we get a far aeay frame and he just. Gets up and that's it yeah.) They also deleted the scene of him visiting Oda's grave.

-The way they rushed seasons 4 and 5. Just to give us an episode that goes further than the manga and has the shittiest writing ever when it comes to skk's plan revelation (im so angry about this u guys have no idea. I sincerely believe that if this episode never came out, the manga would go differently bc there's no way that Asagiri who wrote things like Stormbringer suddenly thought that some dollar store vampire make up will fool a guy who's centuries old and literally lived next to vampires. But well!! Seems like these two speeches Dazai gave weren't important at all and now we can just forget about them yippiee)

I could definitely mention WAYY more examples of that but this is already long af. Like guys. I know u cant fit everything in an animated show. It takes time to make it and all but. Bro. The character's in the anime r so shallow compared to their original versions.

Now onto the artstyle of the anime.

Lord. U know? It was actually pretty in the first 2 seasons. The official arts at the time were also really nice to look at.

No idea what happened later. Why did Bones suddenly decide that those ugly turtle smiles r gonna become the main thing in the character design. Why so many fisheyes. Atp sometimes i look at the official art and i go oh lord even i could fix it. It really feels like they draw some characters ugly on purpose now (Chuuya being the main victim for unknown reasons).

Tho i must say they have their moments even now. Some last episodes of season 5 weren't really bad, especially the Meursault part (love them for animating Dazai and Sigma dancing so well. And for that 101 animation. And maybe for the heartattack they gave me with 109 and Chuuya shooting Dazai so many times.)

On some other things, i really like the music! Bsd openings and endings never miss,,,

#sab q&a #tumblr crashed when i was half into writing that and i had to start from the beginning again but it's no longer as detailed bc >:(#my relationship with bones looks like that: i would like to see stormbringer animated but im actually scared of seeing it animated #not because its sad but because there r very high chances that Bones will completely ruin it too #if u want me to talk solely about the manga vs anime skk then yeah just tell me i can do that too muah #sab yapping

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year ago

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 19)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable’ victors.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

“Tell me about the stairs,” Dr. Aurelius says.

Y/N stares at him blankly, the stairs.

He waits a moment, tapping his pen to paper. “At the request of your husband, you will be issued a nightlock pill, to use in the event that you are captured.”

Y/N nods. One of the stipulations to Haymitch agreeing to her deployment, on this mission to rescue Peeta.

‘Show me you can reach it with your mouth.’ He tested the accessibility of her suit’s pill pocket, rigorously. ‘Show me you can still reach it with your hands behind your back.’

It isn’t something he wants her to use, but knowing that whatever Snow has planned for her would make Peeta’s captivity look like child’s play…

“By President Coin’s orders, I cannot release this… medication unless you are of sound mind.”

“You have reason to believe I’m not?” Y/N asks.

“One of your former guards told me you asked if anyone had ever jumped from the elevator.” Aurelius purses his lips.

“It was one time!” Y/N waves a hand, “and it was a joke.”

“You have a dark sense of humor.”

“You would too.”

The therapist affords her a soft smile, “you may be right. Even still, you are my patient. I need to act in your best interest. So please, tell me what happened on the stairs.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “it’s kind of a blur. Everyone was pushing, yelling, especially after the upper levels were damaged and the rain started coming down.”

“How did you feel?”

“I felt…worried, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“About Haymitch, Madge and the kids. Worried about what was happening to Peeta. Worried about getting Katniss into the bunker.”

He jots this down.

“That was a normal response.” Y/N snaps.

“Very much so,” the doctor agrees, “not every note I make is a bad one.”

Y/N crosses her arms.

“Did you worry for yourself? Your own safety?”

You’re supposed to say yes.

“There is no right answer, Y/N.”

“There’s an answer that gets me to Peeta and one that doesn’t.”

“True,” he shrugs, “but I trust you not to lie.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m a good liar, I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen.”

“How do you feel about death? Is it something you long for, or run from?”

“If I die, my kids lose their mother, my husband loses his wife, my sister loses her sister. The list goes on. So it really doesn’t matter how I feel about death. All I know is that I cannot die.”

“Yet you think you could bite down on this pill?” He presents the dark purple capsule.

“As a last resort. If I have fought tooth and nail and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t get free? I could.” Y/N decides.

Dr. Aurelius nods, holding the nightlock out to her. “Best of luck.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch curses Katniss’ name, as he shuffles through the crawl space she’s gone to hide in, after refusing to make the propo saying thirteen survived Snow’s attack.

Have kids, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Though none of his biological children have forced him to squeeze in such a tight space, parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

He plops down beside her with a sigh, “so this is the end, huh? I guess we’re just gonna hide down here forever.”

“I can’t be the mockingjay,” Katniss chokes out.

“Not the mockingjay,” Haymitch tosses a bit of hair away from her face, “just Katniss.”

She blinks at him, warily.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this pep talk stuff. That’s Y/N’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Katniss understands.

“She spent the morning getting cleared by her shrink.”

“Cleared for what?”

“They’re going to rescue Peeta.” Haymitch tells her.

“What?”

“The dam went down in district five, took out most of the power to the Capitol. Knocked out their signal defense, Beetee’s inside their system, reeking all kinds of havoc. The window is open to us, for how much longer? I don’t know, I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on.” Haymitch explains.

“And Coin?”

“I can never fully support that woman. But Plutarch got word that Peeta and the others are in the tribute center. With the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Peeta is the Capitol’s weapon, the same way you’re ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she’s going to get him.”

“I have to go help them.” Katniss springs to life.

“Woah, hey,” Haymitch reaches out a hand to stop her. “What’re you just gonna jump out of the vent and go storm the Capitol? Besides it’s already underway. Six soldiers went in, volunteer only. Y/N, Gale, Boggs and three others.”

“You just let her go?” Katniss frowns.

Haymitch admits, “she’s not the type of person you ‘let’ do things. But you know how that is, sweetheart. Between the two of you,” he lets out a low whistle, “I’m exhausted.”

————————————————————————

Madge breaks her dinner roll in half. Splitting it between Everest and Arista, the same way she’s watched Y/N and Haymitch do since they got here. Making sure little bellies are full, before their own.

Pollux approaches, motioning to the seat across from Madge, at the metal mess hall table. He sets down his tray and pulls out his note pad, to jot a message down. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Madge greets him, “please, sit.”

“Hi, I’m Pollux. You’re Y/N’s sister, right?”

Madge nods.

“She keeps your picture in her pocket.” Pollux smiles. “And them.” He points to the oldest children.

Everest’s eyes scan the page. “Our mom told us about you. What happened to you in the Capitol…I’m really sorry.”

“Honey,” Madge runs a hand over his hair.

“Thank you, Everest. It’s nice to meet you. Your mom talks about you all the time, she is so proud.” Pollux turns the page quickly, for more room. “Arista and Daisy too, of course. Your mom loves you all very much.”

With that the children turn back to their meals.

Madge smiles, stabbing at her food with one hand, while patting the baby in the sling. The tray moves and Pollux holds out a hand to stabilize it. “Oh, thank you. It’s ok though, you eat.”

He draws the hand back, long enough to scribble, “I’d offer to hold the baby instead, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Madge laughs, “funny.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Madge shrugs, as he grips the edge of her tray, loosely. Managing his own dinner just fine.

Cressida calls him away, after a while, for Finnick’s live propo, to help jam the Capitol’s airwaves.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, coming to you from district thirteen, alive and well. We survived an attack by the Capitol, but I’m not here to give you recent news.”

“Why is Finnick doing a propo?” Katniss wonders, watching the split screen of the control room. The large, right panel is an image of Finnick. Just outside the rubble, where they asked her to film earlier, the sun has set and the lights are trained on him. The left hand side is home to six smaller panels, with the soldier’s helmet cam footage.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Haymitch informs her.

“Beetee’s commandeered the system,” Coin says, proudly.

“They’re down to generator power, so there’s a more limited range of frequencies available to them. I’m filling them all up with Y/N and Finnick. It looks like they’re both live.” Beetee assures Katniss.

“Snow will think she’s still here?” That’s brilliant.

“Not many will see it, but those who do will assume they’re just propos.”

“What they don’t know is that these broadcasts are jamming their entire system with noise. Early defense warnings, internal communications, everything. As long as one or both of the broadcasts are going through, our team should be able to get in and out without being detected.” Beetee assures her.

“You can survive the arena, but the moment you leave, you’re a slave.” Finnick narrates. “President Snow used to sell me, or my body, at least.”

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds from perimeter defense.”

“I wasn’t the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward, or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Finnick presses on, looking straight at camera.

“Ten seconds.” The hovercraft pilot begins counting down. “Nine, eight, seven, six.”

“Just because a victor is married doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Five, four, three…”

“The Capitol’s more generous patrons paid dearly to watch the wedding night, even more to witness the conception of the most beloved children in Panem.”

“Two, one.”

Katniss freezes, surely he doesn’t mean- it couldn’t be. The dress, that stupid dress they crammed her in. Why it upset Y/N so badly. Snow was taunting her.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

“Yes,” Beetee rejoices.

Haymitch is watching the smaller screen, his jaw tense, doing his best to ignore the eyes that fall on him. Twisting his wedding band around and around. It doesn’t matter what secrets Finnick reveals, so long as he keeps jamming the signal. Keep Y/N safe.

“To make themselves feel better, patrons will offer presents of money or jewelry. But I found secrets to be a much more valuable form of payment.”

“Gear up,” Boggs orders the soldiers on the hovercraft. They are just seconds away from the tribute center. “Masks on.”

Their lenses are tinted for night vision, the red light inside makes Y/N’s heartbeat faster.

“Open the door.” Boggs says, his voice echoing through her headset. “Command, this is team leader, preparing to deploy gas. We will confirm once inside.”

“Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick is captivating, well spoken.

Katniss is hanging off every word.

“One word, poison.”

The timer for the gas grenadines finishes, on Bogg’s stop watch, “get ready to drop.”

Y/N secures her harness to the wire, giving it a firm tug. Descending through the open loading dock, releasing the wires as they reach ground.

“Clear.” Boggs, informs the team. “We’re inside, headed for target number one. Cell B forty-five, lower level two C.”

“So many deaths to well known adversaries, even allies who were deemed as threats.”

It’s dizzying, giving equal attention to Finnick’s message and the feed from inside the tribute center.

Haymitch is glued to that screen, her screen. Like he wants to reach through and bring her back with him.

Once Peeta’s holding cell is gassed, they are cleared to enter.

“Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. To help cover the scent of sores, in his mouth, that will never heal.”

Poison, Katniss shakes her head to clear it. He’s still talking about poison.

Inside the room is a lab, full of jars, experiments. Cages. Medical equipment, some with blood still visible.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispers, reaching out to try and make sense of it.

“Abernathy, on me.” Boggs warns, they need to stay focused.

“What is this place?” Gale asks, venturing deeper.

Their screens lights up, all of them at once. Too bright to see.

“Ahh.”

There is a collective hiss, from those in the tribute center. The power’s back on.

“Beetee?” Katniss has a hand flat against her belly, where the worry eats her alive.

“Ma’am, the Capitol air defense is rebooting. It’s coming back online.”

“They must be diverting power from another source, filtering transmissions. Another sixty seconds and we’ll be cut off.” Beetee scowls, typing furiously at the control panel.

“Get them outta there,” Haymitch demands.

“Madame President, should we call back the hovercraft?”

“Broadcast me,” Katniss decides, “if Snow’s watching this, maybe he’ll let the signal in, if he sees me. Put me on the air so he can see me.”

“Yes,” Plutarch snaps a finger. “Yes.”

“Put her on,” Coin agrees.

“Can we still do this?” Haymitch’s hands are shaking as he positions the camera in front of her. “Can we still get in?” Can we still save her?

“Yes, for the moment,” Beetee replies. “The line’s open, he will only see you.”

“Ok, Katniss,” Haymitch steps away. “Go.”

“President Snow.” Katniss says, “President Snow, it’s Katniss.”

The static continues to crackle. No more Finnick, no more footage from the tribute center. Just her.

“President Snow, can you hear me?” Katniss repeats, hoping for a miracle. “I need to speak with you, are you there? President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen,” his voice is distorted for a moment, until the signal hones in. “What an honor. I don’t imagine you’re calling to thank me for the roses.”

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games.” Katniss reminds him. “I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Let him go and I will stop being the mockingjay. I will disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.”

“Please, you’ve won.” Katniss says, “release Peeta and take me instead.”

Snow shakes his head with a smirk. “We are long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do, I’ve always kept my promises. Haven’t I?”

“You said you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrowest concerns. But please, Miss Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

“You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta,” Katniss challenges. “Haven’t I at least done that?”

Snow takes great pleasure in what he’s about to say, it’s written all over his twisted features. “It’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember I said that.” He pauses. “Don’t you think I know Y/N and your friends are in the tribute center?”

Katniss feels the floor fall out from under her.

“Cut them off.” Snow says, turning away from the screen. It returns to the static hum of nothing.

They had comms back, but now Beetee’s lost them again.

“What happened?” Katniss sobs.

“Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in.”

“He knows they’re in there,” Katniss calls to Haymitch. “It’s a trap.”

“Katniss, calm down.” Haymitch whispers.

“We have to get ahold of them, tell them to get out. He knows.”

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch sighs.

“No, Haymitch.” Katniss crumbles, “he knew the whole time, he was taunting me! No, Haymitch-”

“No, no, we don’t know that.” Haymitch hushes her, because he has to be strong. He has to be steady, even with his world falling to pieces.

“Did I lose them all tonight? Did I lose them all?”

Haymitch pulls her into a hug. “Shhh,” he smooths down her dark waves, the same way he would his other daughters.

She holds fast, allowing him to comfort her. “Did I lose them?” The cry is muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he sways them, gently.

“No, no.”

“Katniss,” Haymitch breathes, “listen to me. I need you to listen.”

She nods, unable to calm her erratic breathing.

“If Y/N died, I would feel it. I would feel it in my heart, if she was gone and I don’t. If she’s alive, Peeta is alive, Gale is alive. All we have to do is wait.”

————————————————————————

“Systems are back online.” The pilot informs them.

There’s nothing they can do. Communication with thirteen is shut down, no way to get through to Beetee. They’ll either shoot them out of the sky or they won’t. The only way out is through.

Y/N doesn’t mean to, but she holds her breath. Waiting until they clear Capitol airspace to resume a normal pattern.

Of the five other soldiers on this rescue mission, there is one medic. She begins tending Annie, Johanna and Peeta in turn. Starting IV fluids, as they are all dehydrated; unconscious from the gas.

Annie looks like herself, maybe a bit gaunt, but recognizable. Peeta is thin, so thin and covered in bruises. Johanna’s head has been shaved, cheeks hollow and ribs showing. Y/N tosses off her helmet, running both hands over her face.

“Soldier.” Boggs puts a hand to her shoulder. “You did good. We accomplished our goal. Now we can all go home.”

Y/N nods, blinking away tears.

“Take a breather, there’s a separate compartment through there,” he motions to the rear doors. “He’ll need you when he comes to.”

Peeta does not wake for some time, beginning to struggle at his bindings. No, he realizes, it’s not a binding that holds him. It’s a hand. Just one wrapped loosely around his.

It feels familiar, soft. Someone he knew once, it smells of artificial air. She is warm, the space around her is warm, gentle and kind. A second hand strokes his hair, the way he once wished his mother would.

His eyelids begin to flutter open, daring to reveal that he is conscious. If he’s wrong…if it’s not her and they’ve tricked him again, it will be his own fault.

“Peeta,” Y/N says, staring down at him.

He blinks up at her, in the too bright light. His breathing heavy as she tries to move away, to give him space, but he holds her. Squeezing her fingers.

“Peeta, do you know who I am?”

His throat is sore, voice hoarse, from screaming. “Y-yes.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles.

“Where am I?”

“We’re in a hovercraft, on the way to district thirteen.”

Peeta studies her face. There was something…something is missing, something’s wrong. “What happened to the baby?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him. “Keeping her siblings and Haymitch company.”

“You’re all ok?”

Y/N nods, “yeah, honey, we’re all ok. Now we focus on getting you healthy. Ok?”

He doesn’t flee from her touch, only the occasional flinch when he forgets where he is, until she reminds him that he is safe. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

Y/N leaves him briefly, with the doctors, upon arrival in thirteen. She needs to find Haymitch, tell him she’s ok. And she is running, searching, colliding into him, with such force that they are both sent off balance.

Down to the floor, the dirty, cold floor. But no place has ever felt better. To hold him, for him to hold her and inhale the scent at the crook of his neck.

“Never again.” He pleads, massaging the back of her scalp, like he does when she’s falling asleep. “Never do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.” She nuzzles the delicate skin of his throat.

“Don’t make me live in a world where you don’t exist.”

‘All I know is that I cannot die.’

Part 20

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #thg haymitch #haymitch abernathy x yn #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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emo-trash101 · 7 months ago

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hiya ! its 🦈 anon

Could I req the male reader x drunk stone but instead its switched? ((oneshot, btw)) stone having to take care of drunk reader 💀

take your time + no pressure! have a good day/noon/evening :)

- 🦈 anon

Yay, I missed youuu! And yes ofc I would love to do that! Also sorry this took so long to post 😭😭

Alcohol Tastes Better Than Tears

Stone x Drunk! Reader

Pronouns: second person, gender neutral

Word count: 575

Tw: Alcohol, vomit

Today sucks. In fact, you've had a terrible day. First you blow the whole robbery on your own, and then you can't even steal an apple to make your friends feel remotely better about how horrible you've done. You've given up on being good at anything at this point.

You look down at your hand, staring at the bottle Stone handed you after the heist. You think he just felt bad and wanted to do something nice? But it honestly made you just feel worse. You feel so terrible that not even alcohol could fix it. Well it wouldn't hurt to try you think to yourself and before you know it you're putting the bottle up to the lips and taking a small sip.

That one sip turned into 2 sips, then 3 sips, then 4. Then that turned into you barely holding an empty bottle and trying to prop yourself up on the wall of whatever building you were next to. Your eyes flutter shut softly, as exhaustion hits you like a fright train with a vendetta.

You wake up to the clatter of a bottle and a male voice going "God...what the hell happened to you?". You force your eyes open and lay your eyes upon...an emo? "Whaa~...?" You say, trying to sit up more properly. All you hear in return is a sigh and a crisp "You're drunk". The man leans down to try to help you up before you push him away. "I dont evin know u" You say, your words slurring very aggressively.

"Oh god...my names Stone, we're...friends." He says, the worst friends looking like it's paining him to say, "I'm taking you back to the others".

That led to him trying to lift you up even slightly, which sounded almost completely impossible because your entire body felt like it was filled with lead. But eventually after you almost falling on your ass several times, he was finally able to force you up and being semi able to walk.

"I feel gross..." You say, leaning against Stone as he leads you through the streets. You hadn't even realized it got this dark. "Please don't vomit on me." He says, and almost on cue, you bed over and vomit. "Bloody hell..." He says, trying to prop you upright and continue to drag you away.

After about an hour of him dragging you after you vomiting (because he has the body strength of a malnourished owl) you both finally reach the alleyway, where he essentially drops you on the ground and you immediately pass out. As he grabs a nearby rag and places it on you, Vinnie leans against a wall. "Stone, is that really a good way to treat your crush?" She says smirking to herself.

He glares at her aggressively before speaking "They're not my crush." he says angrily. He stands upright and looks at her. "I'm just teasing, make sure you don't stay up late lovebirds." she says, the last part barely audible and then walks away.

He sighs and sits down next to your unconscious body, glancing down at you to make sure you're still breathing. Maybe...maybe I should tell them he thinks to himself before looking at the ground and noticing, something on his shoes. "IS THAT FUCKING VOMIT!"

Idk if this is any good, but I hope it is 😭

#ramshackle #stone ramshackle #stone x reader ramshackle #ramshackle x reader #I'm not sure if I portrayed drunkess properly #it's a talent atp #🦈 anon

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schemmentis · 7 months ago

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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 12

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

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

Summary: Melissa's side business begins, and you begin to feel the heaviness of your situation.

WC: 2.3k

“Good morning, Tony.” Shaw greets the salon manager as he steps towards him and his partner. “Where's Y/N?”

Tony crosses his arms. “Takin’ a vacation.” He answers coldly. “You got more questions; you're gonna have to ask me.”

“Tony,” Danik sighs. “We've been through this before, haven't we? The first time we were here. You know how it works, how about you save us the time and call your boss down here?”

“My boss?” Tony echoes. After a moment he nods. “Yeah, sure. I'll call my boss for ya.”

The last time they were here, the agents had paced the front of the salon as they waited, eyeing everything they could in their search. Today, they stay in a corner, watching the few stylists and Tony at work. Danik is a moment away from asking Tony how long this is going to take when someone walks into the front from the back of the salon.

The man is tall. His dark hair slicked back on his head, shiny with the product used to keep it in place. He looks at ease, calm, as he approaches the agents. He flashes a smile when he nears, white teeth shown and his eyes crinkling at the edges with the motion. His hand is held out to Danik and Shaw individually.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Agents. I had to finish things up with my other business.”

“I'm sorry…” Shaw starts as he shakes the man's hand. “Who are you?”

The man chuckles, nodding. “Ah sí, sí, mi scusi. I forget myself this morning. Luca Bellino, at your service. I'm happy to answer any questions you have or walk you through the back again if you like.”

The agents share a look between each other.

“I think there's been some misunderstanding.” Danik says as she looks back to Luca. “We asked to speak with Y/N.”

Luca’s head tilts to the side, looking back at the confused looking agents, matching their expression. “Did you?” He asks as his brow furrows. “I was told you requested the owner.”

“Well, yes.” Shaw says, a bit slowly. “The owner. Y/N.”

“Ah, I see, I see.” Luca sighs in sudden understanding. “Please, come with me.” He requests, turning and leading the agents to the back office of the salon.

“You must not have been informed.” Luca says as he steps through the office, opening a drawer of the filing cabinet and pulling a yellow file folder from it before closing it once more.

He sets the file folder to the desk, facing the agents standing on the other side of the wood. Deft fingers open the folder, tapping the papers now visible. “You see?” Luca says, looking back up to Danik and Shaw. “I'm the owner now. The salon was signed over to me a few days ago.”

“Y/N sold the salon to you?” Danik asks as she's studying the forms in front of them.

“Sí.” Luca answers as his hands cross at the wrists to rest at his waist, his head nodding. “You've seen our books, no? The salon hasn't been as profitable in the last few months. Y/N tried to bring it out of the red but in the end it was safer to sell, especially with her little family to think about.”

“So, now you're going to try to bring the salon’s profits up?” Shaw asks.

Luca smiles, though this time it doesn't reach his eyes. “Do not tell the stylists, or Tony.” He says softer, leaning a bit forward. “I haven't had the chance to speak with them yet and I'd hate for them to learn from anyone other than me but I’m working out the details of shutting the salon down.” Luca sighs, looking for all the world like he wishes he had another choice. “It's just too much to turn around and the clients aren't coming in like they used to. It's the best thing we can do before it gets worse.”.

Danik raises a brow, but he relents.

The two agents head out, but not before Luca calls out to them, “Whatever you have against the Schemmenti family, drop it. They had nothin’ to do with Bobby’s demise.”

Your day is uneventful. You have nothing to do now that the girls are at school, Melissa is at work, and the salon is out of your hands. You mill around the house, doing as much cleaning as you possibly can before you groan and fall face first onto the couch, bored out of your mind.

You lay there for a few moments before you finally sigh and grab your keys. You make your way out of the house and towards Twelve Tables.

Melissa would say she’s shocked to see you when you come in through the back- but she isn’t. She knows how hard this is for you to not be involved in any of your work right now, both salon and other wise.

“Hi, my love,” you sigh as you pick up a knife and start chopping the broccoli next to her.

“What’re you doing here?” She just briefly glances at you before going back to her own work.

“I think I’m dying of boredom,” you tell her. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much time off from everything.”

“Would you mind chopping this up then while I attend to other business?”

“Other business?” Val asks as she makes her way out of the walk-in fridge.

“I have things to do in the office,” Melissa says, just a bit too quickly. “Scheduling, finances… I think we may need to look into other companies to deliver.”

You raise a brow, as does the manager, but you nod. You know that what she’s actually doing is trying to clean up the area in order to run your other business alongside this one. If you’re going to execute this, and execute it well, everything has to be in it's own place.

So, that’s what the redhead heads into the office to do.

“Melissa seems frazzled lately,” Valentina notes softly. “Is everything okay at home?”

You shrug. “I uh… had to sell the salon,” you lie through your teeth. “It hasn’t been making money, so… you know. She’s probably stressed over that.”

The woman hums, and for the rest of the time that you’re there until you have to pick up your girls you’re directed on what to chop, dice, slice, and grate.

Finally, you pop your head into the back. “Mel? I have to go pick up the girls. Are you coming with me?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes don’t even leave the new ledger that she’s creating. “I have to wait for the shipment to come in, so… I’ll be home for bedtime though.”

She isn’t. And your girls are beyond confused as to why the three of you can’t stop down at the restaurant for a quick hug and kiss from Mommy and why they can’t have coloring time with Valentina. You can’t tell them the real reason- you just explain that Melissa is busy.

“But Mommy is always busy, and we still always get to go there!” Rosie whines.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” You sigh. You know you still could, technically, take them down to the restaurant. Just long enough to say goodnight. Except you can feel your wife glaring at you from across town if you did. Or worse, picture her having to keep her attention away from your girls because she's so busy.

It becomes a point of contention the rest of the night. Your girls both throw fits because they don't understand. Just getting them dinner fed has you stretched thin. By the time you're fighting with them about bath time you're feeling yourself begin to shake slightly. The girls’ attitudes and fits this evening aren't really what upsets you; it's just the last straw on top of everything else.

You just barely get them both towel dry from the bath when you tell them to pick out their pajamas. The one thing they don't argue with you on this evening as they get to choose their own clothes; one of their favorite things.

You kneel on the tile, letting the bath water out. One of the girl's towels still in your hand you lean to wipe up a small puddle. You toss the towel to the pile near the door to put in the laundry. You sigh, and instead of getting up you let yourself shift backward to sit on the bathroom floor with your back against the wall.

You bury your face in your hands as you try to stop the sudden tears from overflowing. You just need a minute, you tell yourself. Just a minute you'll let it happen and then you'll pull yourself together. Except you can't. You force deep breaths but you can't stop the tears still rolling from your eyes down your cheeks. You lean your head against the wall as you hear little voices calling.

“Mam! Mam!” It's both Cat and Rosie, steadily getting closer.

You really try to stop as you wipe your eyes. You don't want them to see you like this. Yet each swipe at your face just sees more tears filling your eyes.

“Mam! Look at my slippies! I did them on myself!” Rosie exclaims as she shuffles into the doorway, looking at her feet. She's wearing your wife’s house slippers. Backwards.

“Mam!” Cat is saying beneath her sister speaking, appearing at her side at the same time. “I don't have slippies! It's not fair, Rosie has slippies!”

You go to look up, but you hate showing any signs of weakness in front of your girls, so your head stays down as you attempt to pull yourself up from the floor. You lean against the sink, hands tightly gripping the porcelain sink, knuckles growing about as white as the utility in front of you. You keep your back to them, not wanting them to see you as the mess that you are right now.

“Girls,” you sigh shakily. “Mam cannot right now. Get yourselves to bed, and I’ll be in to read your story to you in a few minutes.”

“But Mam!” Cat whines out. You hear her stomp her little foot against the cool bathroom tile, and you can practically see the way that her arms are crossed over her chest- a look that she absolutely picked up from your wife. “Rosie has slippies, and I want-”

Wiping away your tears, you turn around. “Caterina Ann.”

At seeing your face so distraught and aged, both of your twins’ faces drop. “Mam?” They both ask.

“Mam just needs a minute,” you sigh softly, hating the way that your voice breaks just slightly. “Please, girls.”

At that, both of your girls slink off. Your oldest walks off while your youngest shuffles her feet quietly. You half-expect to hear her giggles at the way she’s heading down the hall, but you don’t. Even at their young ages, Cat and Rosie understand that your crying in front of them is not okay- something isn’t right.

When you find it in you to pull yourself out of the bathroom, you head for their room. When you get there though, they aren’t in their beds like you expect them to be. In fact, their pillows and the stuffed animals they insist on sleeping with every night have vanished too. That only means one thing.

You appear in the doorway of your own room, and you see them curled up in your bed. Silently, you thank God you had let your wife talk you into splurging and getting a king-sized bed. It comes in handy for nights like this when both girls worm their way into your bed and Melissa will be getting home and sliding in too.

“Mam,” Rosie pats the spot in between her and her sister. “We leaved room for you.”

Despite the sadness that had inhabited your soul just a few seconds ago, you let a soft smile slip at the kindness and thoughtfulness of your girls. You may not be doing everything right in this world, but you are raising two wonderful, wonderful young ladies.

“Give me a few minutes to change and prepare for bed,” you sigh softly as you wipe new tears from your eyes. “And then I’ll be in.”

It’s about ten minutes later, once you’ve gotten into your sleep apparel and shed a few more tears without the girls’ knowledge, that you slip in between them. Cat hands you a book- your favorite book to read aloud to them.

After their story, they both curl up into your sides and promptly fall asleep, tired from their crazy day in kindergarten.

And once they’re asleep? Your tears return. Silent sobs shake your body as you mourn the death of Bobby all over again, one that you never wanted in the first place- you had actually pleaded for them to not order the hit on the man. You bite your lip and let the tears flow over the fact that you’ve been taken off of the salon- that you have no idea what’s happening there now despite the fact that it’s only been a few days. You hate the fact that your wife is taking all of this on- that her restaurant is in danger now because you got the feds on your tail and don’t know how to shake them loose. Your heart breaks when you remember that Barbara is now in danger because she holds onto the ledger that determines your, and now your wife’s, fate, and she was still there for you in a moment of weakness at the church. It gets to a point where you’re just crying over it all, a hand clamped over your mouth as the sobs bubble up inside of you, and you have to muffle the noise or else you’ll wake your girls. You end up crying yourself to sleep, body exhausted with all of the emotions coursing through it like a river. You’re drowning- absolutely drowning in it all.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #la cosa nostra #collab fic

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thedvilsinthedetails · 9 months ago

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Rosekiller band au microfic!!!

hey guys, I wrote the first microfic in the lil series I’m doing, you can find the original idea for it here

ik I’d said I’d wait but I’m impatient hahaha

(some of the ppl that asked to be tagged if i ever wrote it: @always-reading @blu3stars @chaoticgaywitch @1284646imjusthere @depressedtheatrekiddo @idk-what-to-put-here-123)

anyway just wrote this pretty quickly so it might have some mistakes n stuff sorry abt that I don’t do grammar or punctuation anyway here you go, enjoy:

(EDIT: link to part 2)

••• Pink lipstick stains, cigarette butts

I lie in bed, I hate my guts

A day in the dark

A muddled afternoon, yeah

Barty pressed his cheek close to Evan as they sang into the same microphone. He could feel the buzz of the music through the vibration of the stage below him.

Oh baby darling how I long

To become your suicide blonde

He ran a hand through Evan’s platinum curls as he sung the line. Evan leaned into it, eyes meeting Barty’s, grinning as he sung.

To lie beside my Romeo

Oh what a wicked way to go

Evan’s fingers moved deftly on the guitar, he lifted a hand, twirled the pick in his hand before resuming immediately, he didn’t take his eyes off Barty the entire song.

•••

“Ah fucking hell look at the comments Bee.”

Evan was sat at the base of the sofa, scrolling through the comments on a video of their performance last night. He held the phone up to Barty on the sofa, who squinted before taking it and reading it out to the room.

“Skittlefiend57 says ‘omg Blarty and Evan! I’m so gone 4 them u guys’”

“Blarty?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve been getting my name wrong all these years guys. Wow that’s a crazy thing to discover at 23.”

“Bad spelling aside, there’s way more. And it’s not all good stuff.”

Evan said and Barty looked back down at the comments.

“Barty and Evan are queerbaiting, they act so gay but they’re not dating. It’s all clearly faked to get attention. Fucking pathetic. Why thank you peenisonapizza. Glad to see you know us personally and can therefore speak on our behalf.”

“Don’t know why they’re obsessed with accusing a band with two trans guys of queer baiting.”

Evan pinched his furrowed brow and shook his head in disbelief.

“They don’t even care about the fucking music, just us and whether we’re dating or not.”

Barty laid down on the sofa, dropping one arm around Evan and resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder.

“Hey cheer up Rosie. They care about the music. There’s a few assholes but that’s a given. If they weren’t talking about us acting gay they’d be talking about whether my tattoos are real or fake.”

“Or some conspiracy theory that Reggie’s not actually lactose intolerant.”

Pandora chipped in.

“I’m not lactose intolerant!”

Regulus replied indignantly.

“Is that you talking or your obsession with chocolate?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she spoke. Regulus avoided her gaze as he mumbled out a half hearted response.

“Remus got me hooked on Tony’s chocolonely.”

While the rest of the group squabbled Evan leaned his head back against Barty’s shoulder, he pulled out his phone.

***

Evan.Rosier✔️

Hey everyone, I’ve noticed there’s a lot of speculation about me and @Barty.Grouch.JR and I wanted to say that it’s none of your business, you can think what you like but please don’t ask us or spam comment sections with theories. As always thank u so much for listening to our music, the skittles luv u x

***

Evan breathed in and passed the phone to Barty.

“You think this is good?”

Barty read it over and nodded.

“You’ve been really nice about it too.”

Evan huffed out a laugh.

“I was normal about, not my fault you would have said something like-“

“Roses are red, violets are blue, you are a cunt and I hate you @peenisonapizza.”

Barty took a small bow, flourishing his hand dramatically. Evan turned around and flicked him in the leg, which only succeeded in making him laugh.

“Ok I’ve posted it.”

Evan clicked post and watched as the ‘likes’ number quickly began to climb.

“Now I’m just not gonna read the comments on that post.”

Evan huffed out a laugh and Barty patted his shoulder.

“Good on you Rosie. Now who wants to watch a movie?”

Evan clambered onto the sofa next to Barty who leaned against him immediately, head resting on his shoulder.

“Rosie.”

Barty whispered.

“Yeah Bee?”

“Give me your phone. Look we both know it will bother you all evening not reading those comments if you have your phone on you. Just- out of sight out of mind, I’ll give it back to you once the movie is over but you deserve to have an evening off.”

Barty’s eyes were wide, expression genuine as he spoke. Evan hesitated then reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Don’t spam it with photos alright?”

A smirk spread on Barty’s face quickly, eyes sparkling.

“I make no promises Ev.”

Evan rolled his eyes but handed the phone over.

The movie was something Pandora had picked, something from the late 80s, a strange mix of fantasy, reality and meta theatre that Evan actually didn’t hate.

Still he drifted to sleep at some point watching it, the stress of the day had clearly gotten to him and something about the way the top of Barty’s head made for a great pillow probably didn’t help.

Either way he woke up to the feeling of Barty shaking him.

“Come on sleeping beauty, let’s get you to a real bed. Here’s your phone back.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and got up, stumbling to his room as thanked Barty in a half asleep murmur.

He got to his room and turned on his phone, wincing at the glaring brightness, turning it down quickly. He opened his photos app, just as he’d suspected his camera roll was filled with new photos.

He began to scroll through them. There was one of his friends, all waving at the camera. A zoomed in shot of Inigo Montoya‘s face on the TV screen from a funny angle. Himself, looking dumb, sleeping with his mouth slightly open. He scrolled to the next picture and stopped. Barty with that cheeky grin of his, curled up against Evan, flipping off the camera. Eyes twinkling in that way that always made Evan feel a little warmer, a little brighter. He fell asleep again dreaming of a body pressed against his in a hug, the hum of a movie no longer playing, soft hair tickling his face and mischief painted in big brown eyes.

For info about the position they’re sat in (it’s clear in my mind but I’m not sure how clear it is in the description), the song that they are playing and the movie they watch, look below the read more:

Position they are in before Evan gets on the sofa, red is Evan, green is Barty - yes Barty is uncomfortable, yes he would sit like that anyway bc Barty will do fucking contortion to be able to hug Evan argue with a wall

Don’t question the drawing skills, I can’t draw and did it in a moving vehicle

the song is EVOL by MARINA

the movie is the princess bride suggested by the lovely @lulublack90 who u shld defo check out bc she’s rlly amazing at writing

(Oh also Evan and Reggie are both trans in this)

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serpentarii · 2 months ago

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M O R D L U S T ; september 22nd, 2024

finally getting around to doing these more often now that i'm making money moves in the draft (this is a lie, i am making moves into my friends' dms to scream) so that means i have an excuse to make self-indulgent WIP edits.

my primary protagonist vératre, formerly known as voir, has been made sufficiently weird, and i think i've found a way to smoothly integrate all of the new scenes i added when i reformatted her half of the plot.

i've also been in my overthinking era to make sure that everything from color symbolism, animal motifs, to the specific variations of words characters use has a purpose. 90% of it will not be apparent in the actual draft so, to paraphrase myself, i'm like gay sisyphus opening and closing notion.

but, i do plan on making some character aesthetic intros, tv show edits, and finally getting around to that animal symbolism post 🐯

transcript below the cut:

Pale blue light flooded into the crate as the lid was pried off, then abruptly overturned, sending Aleksander tumbling out between a set of familiar armchairs. His attention traveled up the front of a familiar desk and landed at an unsmiling familiar face. Sitting quietly on the other side of the desk was Lady Kos, regal as a queen and ten times wealthier, with pearl droplets woven into her dark braids, dressed in chiffon and lace from trailing hem to high, starched collar. She was melting wax, her movements swift and assured as she poured a small pool onto the folds of an envelope and stamped it with a sigil Aleksander knew to dread. She took a sip of riesling, soundlessly replacing her glass onto the wood, before setting her sights on him. “Herr Aleksander Fox,” she said at last.

and since i haven't done this in like 4 years, surprise bitch. i'm doing a novel prep tag in here now.

first look ;

describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch) ;

a businessman-turned-thief finds himself entangled with a pair of opposing assassins and the roles they unknowingly play in a much grander conspiracy.

how long do you plan for your novel to be (novella, standalone, series, etc.)? ;

a standalone, thank god. the technically term would be roman fleuve, since i am planning future standalone works that take place within the same universe.

what is your novel’s aesthetic? ;

ancient buildings overtaken by nature, cemeteries at midnight, poisonous flowers, venomous snakes, whispering in shadowy alcoves, masquerade balls, bloodstained feathers, veiled truths

what other stories inspire your novel? ;

the his dark materials series by philip pullman, uprooted by naomi novik, classic gothic lit, fairy tales in general, and uh,,,,,,,exodus.

share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel ;

main character ;

who is your protagonist? ;

my two main protagonists/POVs are liferuiner and wannabe businessman aleksander fox, and vératre, a notorious poisoner struggling her way through a quarter-life crisis.

who is their closest ally? ;

aleksander's closest ally, at least in the beginning, is his friend heidi, an information broker with a secret :) and vératre begrudgingly accepts the help of salicaire, another assassin, since they are both nosy and want answers.

who is their enemy? ;

aleksander vs. the ospirin family (a fight he is nawt winning) and the church

what do they want more than anything? ;

so, to be cryptic, 3/4 of the leads in mordlust are all reflections of each other, what they could have been and what they want to be. the last of them is the mirror. they see in him what they want to see. and what they want, shockingly, is prestige, power, belonging, etc. they've always felt like strangers in their own skin and will go to terrible lengths to fit themselves into a society that was not made for them.

why can’t they have it? ;

dirty dirty politics for which they are mere pawns ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what do they wrongly believe about themselves? ;

that because they've been hurt, they are justified in hurting others in pursuit of their goals.

draw your protagonist! (or share a description) ;

aleksander is a classic dandy with a hyperfixation on his vintage fox fur coat, which he wears even when it's wildly out of season and out of fashion because it's the nicest thing he owns. he's also usually seen wearing kid leather gloves and a golden cravat pin he received from his patroness. he's got green eyes, short auburn hair, lots of freckles, and more people would find him handsome if he didn't smile like he knew your fly was down and was refusing to tell you.

vératre's lips are stained purple due to. reasons. and so she wears a veil, which is not uncommon for particularly devout women. she has medium length brown hair she keeps pinned up into tight plaits and a notably long neck. also, she has pretty privilege because shits fucked and having attractive lay servants representing the house/church is common practice. since she works as a kitchen maid most of the week, she's often wearing her uniform w/ an apron. and sometimes she wears isme's black feathered cloak.

drawing wise, i do have this chart, courtesy of alex @bitethebard:

plot points ;

what is the internal conflict? ;

aleksander and vératre, being parallels of each other, have somewhat similar internal conflicts. they both came from nameless villages out in the countryside and share a burning desire to be more. in vératre's case it's v much a "be careful what you wish for" situation, because in receiving everything she thought she wanted she's no longer herself and unhappier than ever. aleksander is younger and earlier along in his journey, but barreling down the same path. except the choices he makes fucks shit up for the people around him more than they effect himself.

what is the external conflict? ;

again, cutthroat politics (literally). everyone has something they'd kill for.

what is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist? ;

other than dying horribly, probably being tethered to an uncaring master, praying to uncaring gods, and trying to find comfort in an uncaring church for the rest of their miserable lives.

what secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story? ;

aleksander is entangled in a pseudo-liar revealed plot, which i kinda hate, but as an extremely unreliable narrator his priorities are not in proper order... vératre is witnessing the horrors.

do you know how it ends? ;

yeah

bits & bobs ;

what is the theme? ;

blind faith is dangerous. you must learn to take responsibility for both the good and the bad actions you take, and attaching yourself to someone or something at random to validate your own existence isn't healthy. holiness exists not only in gods but in small moments of happiness and in the people we love. and lastly don't fucking steal someone's skin and sell it on the black market.

what is a recurring symbol? ;

thorns.

where is the story set? (share a description!) ;

niederbrinn, the capital city of falkenreik, which is loosely inspired by pre-german empire prussia. it's filled with tons of gothic™ architecture and fun locations like cathedrals, catacombs, and creature shops. it's situated closer to the malevolent eldritch forest than most would like.

do you have any images or scenes in your mind already? ;

hell yeah

what excited you about this story? ;

mostly isme. and then the other 3 protags ig 🙄

tell us about your usual writing method! ;

these days, i usually write a rough outline and expand it using the snowflake method, incorporating ideas, themes, and worldbuilding along the way. then i make a proper outline where i figure out chapters, acts, the dreaded midpoint, etc. i don't write in chronological order so this helps a ton with out-of-context lines since i have a reference for where i want them based on the location/emotional state of the characters. getting myself to actually sit down and WRITE the damn thing is the problem, shout out to my fellow procrastinating perfectionists <33

if you made it to this point you are sexy and i love you, byeeee !!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #wtwcommunity #writeblrgarden #priswritesmordlust #w.mordlust #m.character #m.excerpt #m.edit #w.mine #cw.body horror #aka me being sad and tired that so many fun writeblr games/challenges/events die in the cradle #and also wtw watching my brain implode in real time

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strongheartneteyam · 2 years ago

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I wish I could

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!curvy!human reader

CW: mentions of sexual fluids and sex itself, fluff, angst, pregnancy symptoms such as throwing up (maybe you shouldn't read if you find that too gross)

I'm really insecure about this chapter I guess I'm just thinking "Oh no but a human couldn't conceive a baby with a na'vi no way" but you know what this is MY avatar AU so it doesn't have to be completely canon I'm just a crazy perfectionist please forgive my madness guys 🥲 Anyway, it's just kind of a transitional chapter with some fluff and important stuff happening at the same time if makes any sense ?? I'll shut up now hope u like this 🤡

The words in italic are the translation of something said in na'vi previously.

Chapter 5

♡

Chapter 4

After Neteyam made love to you, he kissed your forehead, grabbed your hand and took you to the nearest river and cleaned you up. Your sex and thighs were all covered with his semen and you were all sweaty. Your body was still hot from what happened previously so you got shivers when your feet touched the cold water. But it was a good sensation. The Pandora waters were always so fresh and amazingly blue. It was such a sight to see.

When the both of you were deep into the river, the water covering you until your waist but it only getting to the middle of Neteyam's thighs, he started to use his hand to wash his seed off of you. You started to laugh 'cause the movements his hand was making were ticklish.

"Stop that, skxawng." (moron), he said laughing "Lemme clean you up fast 'cause it's getting close to the eclipse. Our parents will be waiting for us to reunite with the people for dinner."

"Eywa! You're right! I completely forgot about it."

Neteyam clicked his tongue "My beautiful airhead." He slapped your head slightly, not enough to hurt you, just to tease you, making you look at him with a wide smile in your lips. He was the most perfect being you had ever seen. You couldn't believe he was yours. His fangs hanging out of his mouth when he smiled back at you were so cute and sexy at the same time. You knew he could use his sharp teeth to rip someone's throat open but he would only use them to protect you.

After you were ready, Neteyam took a quick bath in the river waters and then you guys headed to the tribe. He was holding your hand and helping you so you didn't trip on any twigs fallen on the floor as you guys needed to walk fast because it was getting dark and dangerous in the Pandora forests. Your parents would be so worried if you two didn't show up soon to meal time.

You felt your cheeks blush when you walked into the sea of na'vi and a few humans reunited around the bonfire, eating their fruits and meat already. You couldn't wash away from your head that only 1 or 2 hours before you were moaning while Neteyam mated with you in the middle of the forest. Eywa, what if you guys had been caught? What if, Eywa forbid, Jake or Neytiri walked into you having sex with their son while they were hunting? You wanted to die just thinking about it.

You and Neteyam were no longer holding hands but you two were walking side by side.

He smiled at you and said "See you later?"

"I don't know. It's getting close to sleep time but maybe we'll talk a bit after dinner?" You said

He only moved his head down slightly in response, still smiling, not showing teeth, and headed to his family. You had just noticed Jake was looking at the both of you, a serene look in his face. You wondered if he was just looking at you two or if he knew something was up.

You knew Jake liked you a lot and he was a father figure to you, since your biological father had died and your na'vi mother, Ao'ite, lost her mate long ago, before you were even born. He died together with many other na'vi in a battle against the Sky People. You wondered how many na'vi had cried over a deceased loved one who was killed by humans. You hated your own species and was ashamed of being one of them. But you reminded yourself of something Jake would always tell you, since you were a child:

"You're one of us, little one. It doesn't matter what your biology is. You live like us, you love and respect our land, you speak our language and pray to Eywa. You're just as much na'vi as I am. Don't forget I once had a human body like yours." He said, sitting down on his heels to look better at your small human child frame and touching your chin slightly, making you smile and say "Thank you, Jake. I'm not sad anymore. If you say I am a na'vi, then I believe you."

He smiled big at you and you went running back to Ao'ite, who took you in her arms, wrapped your legs around her waist, her hands below your thighs and mouthed "Thank you" to Jake. He only motioned his head down a bit, smiling slightly at her.

But even knowing Jake loved you as if you were one of his own children, you still wondered what he would think about Neteyam choosing you as his mate. Would he be against it because you were a human? What about Neytiri? Would she be okay with it? Their eldest son was soon to become the next Olo'eyktan. He was being trained by his father almost everyday. Maybe his parents would think it's better for him to mate with a good na'vi girl. And you knew he would have plenty of options if he wanted to. You weren't blind to the way so many na'vi girls looked at Neteyam. And they were all so pretty and skilled. And the most important part was; they could give Neteyam children. You felt your heart ache.

You realized you were still standing in the same spot Neteyam left you. Swiftly you started walking towards your mom. She had a worried look on her face.

"Are you alright, my child?" Ao'ite asked as you sat down next to her

"I'm okay, mom. I was just lost in my thoughts." You said smiling at her and taking a reddish small fruit into your hand and taking a bite out of it

"I noticed you came to meal time with Neteyam. What were you guys doing that you both arrived here late, together?"

You almost choked on your fruit when you heard her saying that. There was something about mothers, it didn't matter if they were human or na'vi, but they always knew when you were up to something.

"I was just listening to music in the forest, in a safe place, away from dangerous animals, as you taught me, and Neteyam found me there and decided to stay with me for a while. You know he likes to listen to music from Earth with me. I always tell you how happy I get when he turns out to like a song that's one of my favorites." You said, hoping your mother would believe you and wouldn't ask anything further.

She looked away from you with a serious look in her face, taking another piece of meat from the big leaf laid on the floor and said:

"I know you feel something more for the Sully's son than just friendship."

You looked at her surprised and said:

"Y-you do?" With wide eyes and red cheeks

"Ma (y/n). I'm an old na'vi woman. I can tell when a young girl is in love. Don't forget I once was around your age and fell for your father." She smiled

She used to refer to her late mate as your father, even though you never met him but you heard many stories of how great a warrior he was. And you knew he was generous, funny and treated your mom very well when he was alive. So you held him dear in your heart, even if you didn't even know how he looked.

"Neteyam is very special to me." It's all you said, looking down shyly

➳

You woke up the following day with the weirdest feeling in your throat and soon you realized you had to throw up so you jumped off of your mat, ran out of your mother's house and stopped only when you got behind a tree that was close-by. You put your head down and threw up what seemed to be all you had eaten the night before.

You heard the sound of leaves breaking on the floor and you looked behind you only to see Neytiri looking at you, seeming to be really worried.

"(y/n), honey. Are you sick?"

You cleaned your mouth with the back of your hand and looked up at Neytiri.

"Hm... I think so. I might have eaten a fruit that was starting to rot at dinner yesterday or something."

"I'm still worried. Do you need help?" She said

"I think I'm alright. Thank you anyway, Neytiri. You're always so nice to me." You smiled, looking at her beautiful face. Neytiri was the most beautiful woman in the clan, in your opinion.

She smiled softly

"If you need anything, shout as loud as you can and I'll come running to your aid. Okay?" She touched your shoulder

"Okay." You answered and she went her way

Later that day, after you had lunch you felt sick again and tried to run away to throw up because you hated making a mess at the house but Ao'ite came just in time to see you struggling.

"My daughter. Are you gonna throw up?" She saw you covering your mouth with your hand while your face was pale

The yellow liquid falling to the floor was the answer to her question

"I'm sorry, mom. I'll clean it up." You said already going to fetch a cloth to wipe the floor with but Ao'ite interrupted you

"Nonsense, child. You're sick. Sit down and I'll bring some water to wash your face." There was still vomit in your mouth and chin "Only after you're clean, I'll take care of the mess on the floor."

"Okay, mom. I think I need to lie down a bit." You said and laid on the floor "I don't know what's wrong with me but I can't seem to keep anything I eat inside my body. I always puke it."

Your mother was coming near you carrying water in a big seashell and a cloth and looked at you with her big yellow eyes for a few seconds, a serious expression in her face.

She knelt to the floor, wet the cloth in the water inside the seashell that was in one of her hands and started to clean your face up. When you were clean, she looked at you, seemingly mad and said:

"(y/n), did you mate with Neteyam?"

You looked at her not being able to believe what she had just asked.

"I..." You almost denied but there was no use "I did, mother."

"I knew you guys weren't just listening to songs together." She said, shaking her head in disappointment "(y/n), I might be mistaken but I have helped a lot of human girls and women with their pregnancies. I don't know if this is possible, but, you are showing symptoms that might indicate you're with child." Your mouth fell open

"I saw Neytiri when I went to the forest earlier today to hunt food for our lunch. She told me she saw you throwing up. You know how much she cares about you. She was worried and asked me to keep an eye on you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, mom... I thought it was just something bad that I had eaten. I... I didn't think it was possible."

"I'm not sure it is. But there's a real possibility you're carrying Neteyam's child. And that's a big deal, my daughter. He's going to be the next Olo'eyktan." What she said brought back to your mind all those thoughts about not being good enough to be Neteyam's mate

"After I clean the floor, I will go to the lab and call Dr Evelyn. She will be able to tell us if you're really pregnant. You stay here and go lay in your mat. You gotta rest." She said, standing back on her feet and leaving to fetch something to clean the floor

You did as you mother said and went to lie down at your mat. After she had left, you were still awake and uncomfortable for half an hour but then you feel asleep, feeling tired.

➳

Meanwhile, Neteyam had just stopped for a break from his Olo'eyktan training with Jake. They were resting, sitting on the floor and Jake was cleaning his arrow when Neteyam said:

"Dad?"

"Yes?" Jake looked at his eldest son

"I have something important to tell you." Jake was looking at the arrow in his hand but looked back at Neteyam after hearing those words

"I chose a mate."

Jake had a serious expression at his face

"It's (y/n)."

Jake smirked and said "Who could have seen it coming? The girl you're always drooling over is the one you want to be your mate."

"The thing is... She already is, if you know what I mean."

"What?!" Jake was angry "And you didn't think to tell the people first? You have a great responsibility to the clan as the Olo'eyktan to be." He looked at him like he was crazy

"I'm sorry, dad. It all just happened so fast. It was only yesterday." Neteyam tried to defend himself

"Yeah, of course it was. I suspected something was up when you two arrived late and side by side at dinner."

"What do I do now, dad? Can I tell the people tonight?"

"Boy, you think with your penis, not your brain." Jake said, pushing Neteyam by his arm. "And is there another option? You have to make an announcement as soon as possible. It's gonna be tonight. And you're still not finished with your training. You were supposed to court her for a while and only mate with her after you became Olo'eyktan. How am I gonna tell your mother about it?" Jake shook his head

"Sorry?" Neteyam said with an awkward smile

➳

You woke up with a human female voice calling you softly. It was Dr Evelyn Miller.

"Hi, (y/n)." The redhead was looking at you with a soothing expression in her face "How are you feeling? Your mother told me you threw up a bit."

"Hi, Dr Evelyn. I feel better now. Thank you."

"That's great. Ao'ite told me you were chosen by a nice na'vi boy to be his mate. Is that right?" She was smiling

"Yeah...." You smiled shyly

"And she told me you guys were in a rush and you two mated already." You felt your face burn "The thing is, something weird seems to be going on here. You are showing symptoms of pregnancy. I have to get a sample of your blood and run some tests to see if you really are pregnant. Is that okay?"

"Sure..." You said nervous

"It won't take long. I have all the equipment I need here on my backpack."

Dr Evelyn stung you with a needle in a syringe she took out of a metal box that was inside her backpack. You saw the crimson blood being collected inside the syringe and sighed deeply, your breath faltering.

Ao'ite looked at you worried.

Half an hour later, Dr Evelyn looked at you with a surprised face and finally spoke:

"You are carrying a na'vi baby in your womb. That's crazy." She laughed slightly in disbelief

Ao'ite's eyes got filled with tears and she smiled

"I thought you were mad, mom." You looked at her face

"I'm mad you were irresponsible. And I'm worried for your fragile human health. But I'm also happy I'm gonna have a grandchild. And this child will be na'vi. Eywa ngahu!" (May Eywa be with you)

You felt tears starting to wet your cheeks.

"Congratulations, (y/n). You're gonna be under my care from now on as something like this has never happened before and we don't know how your body is gonna react. I'll leave you guys alone now." She smiled, put her backpack on her shoulder and exited your home

"Mom, I need to tell Neteyam!" You said smiling

"Do you want me to go to the Sully's house and call him? He better have told his parents that you guys mated. I don't want anyone confused or mad when I get there. I already have a lot on my plate right now." She laughed a bit

♡

tagging:

@lik0

@behindthearcane

@destinylb

@thelxnelyworld (I'm tagging you because you asked for part 4 💙)

(If any of you guys don't wanna be tagged anymore just tell me don't wanna bother anyone lol)

#avatar 2009 #avatar fandom #avatar james cameron #na'vi x human #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar x human reader #avatar x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #tori writings #kxamtxomaw writes

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