#ughhhhhhh it makes me so fucking sad

[jellyshoes-fandomfolk]

When I watched Siffrin be mean to his family (I spam through those conversations every time)

[tomatoluvr69]

**** and ****** and I all got invited to birthday party #1 tonight. Then each of them got invited to an additional birthday party, #2-3. so now I am being made to go party hopping with them. to parties of ppl I’ve only met in passing. and if that weren’t bad enough a friend of ours but mostly theirs is opening for [mid but confusingly well known DJ in our town who thinks playing starships by Nicki Minaj makes her all that even tho *** is better!] tonight and so now we’re gonna try to go to four things. Woeeeee is literally meeeeeeee I want 2 stay home and pirate ebooks and listen to sufjan stevens but unfortunately if I refused to go it’d be a whole big thing even though I literally only ever agreed to go to party #1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Scream. Ugh whatever I’m going to drink a matcha latte with raspberries and a shot of espresso at 4-5 pm and hopefully I will not pass away </3 Urgh this is fine this is good for me I’m young blah blah blah I have to enjoy this era it’s fleeting whatever blah blah blah I have the rest of my life to drink herbal tea all alone plan my garden and force myself to read a joan Didion book I am not enjoying. Blah blah blah but I don’t have to LIKE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh AND I have to go fucking secondhand clothes shopping* beforehand this is like when Gabriella and Troy from High School Musical had big game, scholastic decathalon, and callback auditions all at the same time

*it’ll be FINE I guess hdhebfndjjejejdjdj

[bringthekaos]

Listen

I know that "doomed by the narrative" has been so overused that is now a meme but honestly? How terrifying, how sad, that the moment you see them both together you already know how it's going to end. The final step of their journey is already written, it has been for kver a decade now. When Viktor saves Jayce's life, when he encourages him to pursue his dreams, and Jayce looks back at him with nothing but pure awe, and yet you, the audience know that they will end up hurting each other so badly, that everything will go up in flames, that they are destined to hate

The narrative is already set. We are just here for the journey.

🙃

Ughhhhhhh I guess my only hope is that they can maybe change it a little? Or maybe get through the really contentious divorce era, they go at each other’s throats all season, and come out at the end with… not reconciliation, I think that’s too much to hope for, but… mutual understanding? Like… they can’t be lovers friends again, they’ll never be close like they were, but maybe there’s a respect there? A lot of the League lore suggests that Jayce is very remorseful over what happened, and would leap at the opportunity to make amends. I always go back to the interaction in Jayce’s LoR story. He was just so ready to end the fight between them. And Arcane has certainly softened the image of Jayce (I know that’s so that he can be hardened by his life experiences, but… the writers have a daunting task ahead of turning this sweet, non-confrontational person into a stuck-up asshole), so my hope is that they lean on that softer image and maybe get to a point where he and Viktor can coexist semi-peacefully? And this is totally not at all spurred by my need to have something to work with fanfic-wise 🫣

Really as long as they’re both alive at the end of the season, I’m good. I will smush them together regardless. My one fear is that Viktor falls victim to the old “redemption by death” trope. The Kylo Renification, if you will.

Redemption by death is such a cheap cop-out, and I am so fucking sick of it. If you’re going to redeem a “villain,” don’t be lazy. Leave them alive to make amends, let them face the consequences and work through them. It can be done. Zuko from Avatar. The Digimon Emperor from Digimon. (don’t judge me, I am a Olde™). Loki.

Idk, I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that they tweak the JayVik narrative doom a little.🤞

[luciluck2046-md]

Murder Drones: Glowing Future AU

1. Two Full Days

"UZI, WHAT DO YOU THINK I SHOULD WEAR FOR SCHOOL????" N asks me.

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"I don't know, whatever is fine. You don't need cool clothes to make friends anyway." I mumble tired.

I got almost no sleep, it's the first time I had three other people in my room. And it's very weird.

"Uzii~ Can I kill-" V starts saying.

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"NO YOU CAN'T KILL ANYONE. YET." I yell at her, slapping my face.

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"Nah do whatever you want V, it's not like she can do anything to you." J says.

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"UGHHHHHHH Why did I let you all sleep in my room?" I start rumbling.

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"Because I asked you?" N says confused. I nod, then start banging my head on the dresser repeatedly.

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"Uzi you're going to break the closet." I hear mom from the doorframe. I groan loudly.

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"CAN ANYONE SHUT UP FOR FIVE MINUTES, I JUST WOKE UP, I CAN'T DEAL WITH ALL THIS SHIT SO FUCKING EARLY!" I yell at everyone. Never had more than 2 people directly talking to me and this is getting annoying.

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"Oh, sorry!" N tells me with a sad voice. I jump to give him a pat, but I think it felt more like a hit-

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"Awwww you're so cute toghether, it would be a shame if someone killed both of you right now! :3" J says.

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"... J, if you keeps saying you're sorry, DON'T FUCKING MESS WITH ME." I yell at her. "Or mom. I actually don't recommend that since she managed to slap Cyn out of me. Literally." I mumble embarrassed.

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"OF COURSE, NO DAUGHTER OF MINE IS GOING TO DATE ONE OF THOSE THINGS." Mom starts saying.

V is blowing bubbles... In this situation. For some obvious reason.

"Mom you married dad. You cannot say anything about my FIRST relationship." I tell her.

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"Ohhhh someone's having the first fight with her mother!~" V says sarcastically.

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"BITE ME!" Me and mom yell in the same time. Maybe me and her aren't that different, both of us like a lovable idiot.

N is trying to say something but he is still on mute. "N, you can talk now, I got energized enough." I laugh.

"You should hurry guys, it's getting late." My mom says.

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"OH FUCK YEAH SCHOOL, FORGOT ABOUT IT." I yell, packing my bag in a hurry.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

I am spinning around a pen, bored and kinda sad that I didn't get to sit next to N. Not being at school for the past week showed it's mark. I forgot how BO-RING it was.

"By the way, we have three new classmates. I don't know their names, and I don't care about that." The teacher says exiting the room. I chuckle a little.

"Uzi, how are you going through this every day?" J asks me bored. She had to sit next to N, since V was already sitting next to Lizzy. And N was the only one actually paying attention to the lesson. So he had no time to talk with anyone. I saw her banging her head on the table. The whole lesson.

|

"Don't ask me, I'm already missing the times when I haven't met you three, I actually had something to daydream about." I mumble. I am not mentioning that I was planning the extermination of Disassembly Drones and humanity. "Now I'm stuck in this bunker since the sun now kills me and there's nothing to do outside." I add.

"UZI UZI UZI, SCHOOL IS SO FUN!!!!" N comes and intrerupts me. Literally everyone is looking at us, and the teacher trough the windows.

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"MOTHER FUCKER, THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!???" J is yelling at him.

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"But it was fun..?" He responds disappointed.

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"Well, I'm glad that you like it but PLEASE don't forget the fact that I hate this." I tell him.

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"This Was, So Boring. Let Me Out. Let Me Out. Let Me Out." We all suddenly hear. V is going gun mode.

"I TAUGHT THAT CYN DIED????" She yells.

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"BOSS YOU'RE BACK???? Not like I want to be bad anymore but.." J mumbles.

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"School Is, Boring. I Don't, Like It." I hear from behind, specifically, from my tail.

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"UHHH GUUYS DID MY TAIL JUST TALK!?" I yell looking frightened at the now yellow eyed creature on the tip of my tail.

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"What." We all look at my tail surprised.

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"Holy shit it talks." V mumbles.

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"HEY THAT WAS MY LINE!" I yell at her.

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"I Am Now, Stuck Here. I Want My, Body Back." Cyn talks again.

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"... I did not expect that my tail would talk now." I rumble completely ignoring her.

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"My condolences." V tells me.

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"But nobody died- Oh..." I say as I get the joke. "Yeah, RIP my sanity." I laugh.

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"Hey. I Am Not, That Bad." Cyn says.

Silence. Then J starts laughing. V too. Then all of us are laughing except N, which is looking at us confused.

"Okay now let's get to our lockers, I am not staying in this classroom anymore." I say, rushing out the door.

I open my locker to check if I still have one book there.

"Whatcha doing?" I hear from behind.

I turn back, expecting V or J or Thad or anyone in general.

"AGHH! Oh it's you... Warn me before talking, how are you so silent when you walk?" I ask N, that sneaked from behind.

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"Padded feet. Exceptionally good for surprise attacks." He responds, responding quite literally. I smile. His personality is so cute.

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"Oh. And to answer your previous question, I have a present for you." I tell him, finally finding an edge of that book I've been searching, hidden by magazines and two random limbs.

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"Ta-dah! A How-To-Draw-Anime book!" I say handing it to him.

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"What's an anime?" He asks me confused.

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"WRONG MOVE, NOW YOUR FATE IS SEALED." I hear Lizzy talking to N from the other end of the hallway.

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"Ohh boy..." I laugh. He doesn't know what he asked  >:3

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"... I still don't get it." N says at the end of school.

Me, V, J and Cyn are complet speechless.

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"HOW THE FUCK YOU STILL DON'T GET IT??? I ALREADY KNOW EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN WORD SHE SAID!!!" J is yelling at him.

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"I'll show you an anime tomorrow, I don't have time today, I got that homework to do." I tell him.

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"Cool, anyway, I'll be with V and Lizzy walking around the bunker." J tells me and N, leaving the room with V.

"... I  guess we're alone now??" N says surprised. I laugh.

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"No, we're going home. I will make that homework. And if there's free time we'll maybe hang out." I say, taking his hand walking out of the class with him.

Wait I'm holding his hand???? OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!!!

"Uzi, are you alright..?" N asks me after we get out of the school.

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"... What do you mean- OH FUCK!" I yell, feeling warmth coming from my screen. I try to hide my blushing face with my hands.

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"How much have I been blushing..?" I ask him embarrassed.

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"Not much, but you weren't looking as confident as usual." He says.

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"OHHHHHHHHH... You're absorbing my rebellious angsty teen confidence, give it back!" I yell at him playfully.

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"Nuh uh, it's mine now." He plays along.

We both laugh, then I notice some drones pointing at N and whispering things. I suddenly go from happy to mad, but N is still laughing. I try to distract myself from this, so I decide to play a game.

"LAST ONE HOME IS GOING TO HAVE TO LISTEN TO CYN FOR THE NEXT HOUR!" I yell at N, bringing my wings out and starting to fly towards my home.

Cyn comments something about this but I don't actually listen to her.

"OH YOU STARTED BEFORE ME, THAT'S NOT FAIR." He yells behind me then he says something I don't understand. He catches up to me, and I slow down.

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"What was the last thing you said?" I ask him amused. He doesn't look amused. He looks confused.

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"Uzi, your wing-" He says.

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"Huh?" I ask him, then I stop to look at my wings. "OH MY ROBO-GOD I LOOK SO BADASS!" I yell happily.

N laughs too.

"Now let's do it fair, and only by running." I say, sprinting towards the door to my house.

I've always been the fastest in class, despite my height. But N quickly catches up and I remember he's so much taller than me.

"Aw fuck." I say when I finally get to the door of my house, looking at N happily jumping.

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"I won!" He keeps repeating. I chuckle, unlocking the door.

"Daaaaad, mooooom, I'm baaaaack!" I say, going straight to my room. But it's locked. Dad comes to me.

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"Not today, me and Nori decided for our first family gathering!" He says.

Mom is running towards us (not too fast, the little legs don't really help).

"We can let that for TOMORROW, she got homework you dummy." She tells him.

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"OH THANK YOU MOM!" I say, unlocking the door with my ~mAgIc~

"You seem a bit annoyed." N tells me.

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"Yeah because dad doesn't know how to parent well and mom has missed most of my life, but I can't blame her for that." I rumble.

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"I never had a family other than Tessa..." He whispers.

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"Awww don't worry, you are my boyfriend now, I'll make you feel like you are part of a family now." I try to say as sweet as I can.

He starts cheering quietly.

"Now let's get to work... The subject was 'a slice of life' I think... I can write about how we saved the world an all?" I whisper to myself. "N can you please get my phone from my backpack?" I ask him, booting up my laptop and preparing to load some images to make the MOST ELITE HOMEWORK!!!!

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"Here it is!" He says, throwing it towards me. I catch it and immediately conect the head buds wires to listen to music.

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"What song it is?" N asks me innocently.

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"No idea, I just put some random nightcore playlist." I say, typing aggressively.

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"Can I listen?" He asks.

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"Oh sure, but my phone's volume is really loud, I warn you." I respond, taking out one wire and giving it to him.

He's being quiet for the next five songs, and I write the rest of the homework. Now all I have to do is to load the images!

"How's the music?" I ask him before I take an USB cable to load up the images.

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"Huh..? Oh it's pretty cool!" He answers.

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"Good because you're going to have to listen to this for basically the rest of your life." I laugh.

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"I Think, It's Okay." Cyn says.

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"OH FUCK- Oh yeah you're able to control my tail now, I forgot. But thanks for liking it." I rumble. "Okay now I want you two to be quiet, I'm doing some more important work now." I tell N and Cyn after I plug the cable in the laptop.

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"Okay!" N says on a happy voice.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"WE'RE HOME BITCHES!!!!" I get woken up by J's yelling from the entrance.

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"SHHHH Uzi's sleeping!" N tells them whispered. I still keep my eyes closed, I want to see where this is going.

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"Okay and?" She asks him bored.

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"J, give her a break, she barely had any sleep this night. And yesterday was a tiring day for all of us." V scolds her.

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"WE DIDN'T HAVE ANY OF THIS." J yells annoyed.

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"J, that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve this! She is letting us stay here too!" N tells her.

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"We can as well sleep like we always did. Outside." She complains.

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"And be loved by nobody? Be outside society? Just get back to having no friends? I am not doing that." V says confidently.

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"I approve with V." My boyfriend says.

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"Uggghhhhhh, if you wanna stay, I'll stay, alright... I don't like this though." V rumbles. "Anyway why's that sentient toaster sleeping on her table and not bed?" She asks.

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"School project." He responds. "I didn't know what to do so I let her sleep there-"

I try not to laugh. He's so cute and innocent!

"... UZI WAKE THE FUCK UP AND GO SLEEP TO YOUR OWN BED." J yells.

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"GIRL GO TO FUCKING HELL!" I yell at her slapping her in the face.

V is laughing loudly and N is a little confused, but smiling.

"YOU BITCH!" J says.

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"You yelled at me, I got startled so I hit you. My actions are justified." I tell her.

"Hey Uzi, you hungry?" V asks me.

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"OH YEAH!!!" I tell her. I didn't even realize that I didn't eat any oil for the entire day!

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"Alright, I saved you an arm, say thanks." She tells me, giving me the limb from her backpack.

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"THANKS A LOT." I say, drinking the oil from it until only the rough metal can be chewed. "Wait did you kill someone?" I ask her surprised.

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"No, I found someone already dead. OF COURSE I DID SO, WE GET HUNGRY, YOU KNOW?" V answers annoyed.

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"It was some random guy that Lizzy had beef with." J says, using her claw hand as a toothpick.

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"Kevin?" I ask V.

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"Yes, Kevin, that motherfucker." She responds.

"Uzi can we see an anime?" N asks me.

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"OH YES!!! I already have a video saved, do you two want to see it?" I ask the two other drones.

V nods, but J isn't as happy about this.

"Can you three just sleep?" She asks us, already hanging from the ceeling.

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"NO. >:3" I respond like the little goblin that I am."

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~

I find myself in a white space.

Doll teleports in front of me.

Wasn't she dead though?

She tells me something.

"Привет, Узи. Давно не виделись, да? / 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝚄𝚣𝚒. 𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝??"

"How are you here?"

I ask her.

I hear no answer, and everything turns to black.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"Uzi? Uzi!? UZI ARE YOU OKAY!?!?!?" I barely hear. I open my eyes tired.

N was shaking me, trying to wake me up.

"Good morning to you too N." I mumble. I take my blouse from my chair and put it on.

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"Uzi, you weren't waking up and I taught you may have died and-" N tells me panicked.

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"He didn't belive me when I said you're alright." V says bored. "Now hurry up you lovebirds, class is almost starting and Thad already got in a figth with someone." She adds, looking at her phone.

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"N, go to school for the first class without me, I have to run a quick virus scan." I rumble.

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"UZI IS EVERYTHING OKAY????" N asks me worried. I chuckle.

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"Yeah, it's just that I had a weird dream..." I say amused.

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"Bitch we can't dream." J says coming from the kitchen.

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"EXACTLY!!" I yell, it's obvious. "So please go without me, tell the teach that I'll be late." I tell N, heading to my chair and getting ready to have the virus scan.

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"Okay... Take care!!!!" N says leaving, still on a worried voice.

I am now alone in my room, and I adjust my chair to get ready for the virus scan.

"Uzi? I couldn't help but overhear you..." I hear from my door a second before I start it.

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"Yes mom, what's with it?" I say bored.

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"Let me tell you a little something... That may have not been a dream." She says.

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"Well YES? THAT'S WHY I WANT TO RUN A VIRUS SCAN." I yell. I am so tired and do not ready for today.

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"... I don't mean it as in a virus... You know I had some prophecies a little while ago, I think your dad told you." She says whispered, closing the door.

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"Yeah, yeah, 'bEwArE tHe CoMiNg SkY dEmOnS!', I've seen the closet where he keeps your stuff." I mumble bored. "Can you say what you want for once so I can get the scan going?" I ask her annoyed.

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"THOSE 'DREAMS' ARE FUCKING PROPHECIES." She says back.

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"Oh fuck-" I say, remembering the details. "I'll still run a virus scan." I add.

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"And I have taught that my daughter was a bit more understanding... What was it about?" She asks me.

I sit quietly. And try to explain.

"So uhhmmmm... You know, Doll died, but uhhmm... In the dream she was back, and she told me 'long time no see.' and it's a bit worrying..." I explain.

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"Well Nikolai teached Yeva a lot about programming and mechaniscs, they might actually be able to restore her, you know?" She says.

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"Mom, you know they're dead, right? V got her hands on them-" I tell her surprised.

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"WHAT!? I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO STOP DATING A FUCKING MURDER DRONE." She starts scolding me.

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"Mom he's actually an angsty rebel like me but that's unrelated. Doll's house is a bit worrying, you might need to see it later, but I am going to school now." I respond annoyed, running out the door and trying to get to class on time now.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

[...]

"AND NOW I CAN DO THIS!!!!! >:3" I yell, seeing everyone yell in fear to my wings and absolute solver powers.

"YEAH GO UZI GOO!!!" N is yelling from the back. J is commenting something about our relationship but V is slapping her.

"Uzi, are you aware that I said a 'slice of life' and not an essay about a superhero." The teacher tells me after he's finished with banging his head on the table.

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"ISN'T SAVING THE WORLD GOOD ENOUGH???" I yell at him annoyed.

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"Actually no. Solving your crippling daddy issues is worth one point of the rubric, but that romance is actually taking two points. Miss Doorman, your essay is a -1 point." He says.

I look at him annoyed, then I go back to my seat. I look back at N, and he's giving me thumbs up.

"You did such a great presentation!" N tells me after class.

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"You're right, the teacher was so wrong- WAIT WHERE ARE MY BOOKS???" I yell seeing that the chemestry and math and physics books that I use to climb on to get to my locker properly.

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"What's the problem?" He asks me confused. "I CAN'T GET TO MY FUCKING LOCKER, WHO THE FUCK STOLE MY BOOKS?" I yell on the hallway.

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"I can help!" N tells me.

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"Huh, what do you meAAAN! OF FUCK LET ME DOWN LET ME DOWN LET ME DOWN" I yell at him because he picked me up. He puts me back down and I turn back at him.

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"Oh... Sorry..." He says disappointed.

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"Hey, I'm not angry, please just ask before doing things, okay?" I explain to him. "I also didn't expect to be lifted up. But if you really want to help, can you plase give me the manga from the top shelf?" I ask him smiling.

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"Sure! I love doing anything!" He says smiling, and he hands me the book.

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"How are you even that tall?

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"Oh, I was made for ground attacks, so I am bigger, that making me faster and it's harder for me to fall." He explains automatically.

I laugh. "Well my COOL AS FUCK RAIL GUN was no match for you. >:3 " I say to annoy him. Then I think at how I shot J and the weird worm-

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"Well I don't regret not killing you." He smiles.

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"What?" I ask him jockingly.

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"That idiot means that he doesn't regret being a bitch and rebelling against the company." J says, passing us.

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"N will you let me kill J pretty please-" I beg him.

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"No, you gave me a chance, she deserves one too." He responds firmly, but half of his sentence is covered by the ringing bell.

"OH FUCK WE'RE LATE, HURRY!" I yell, dragging him to our class.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"Hey Uzi, did you finish your homework? Nori wants to go see Doll's house apparently. She wants to check out her doors, can you belive this!" Dad says entering my room.

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I roll over my eyes. "Yeah dad, I am ready. N is coming too." I say.

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"NO HE'S NOT, THIS IS A MOTHER-DAUGHTER MOMENT." I hear mom yelling from the other room.

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"Ughhh okay!" I respond annoyed. "N, will you, V and J be some good drones and not kill anyone? There's oil in the fridge and there's paper with crayons on my desk." I tell them, going outside with my mom.

.

..

...

We two walk quietly half the way until Doll's house.

"How was Doll?" Mom asks me at one point.

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"Well... She was Lizzy's best friend. One of the popular girls." I mumble.

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"Wall aren't you popular too?" She asks me amused.

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"AW HELL NAW!" I yell. "I'm the weird rebel teen, not the popular preppy girl." I tell her. "Plus most people hate me anyways..." I add whispering.

We're not saying anything for the next minute.

"You know... Me and Yeva were very good friends. She would worry too much about the future and I wouldn't worry about anything." Mom randomly tells me.

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"Well all that Doll did was try to kill V. I mean she has some pretty good reasons but we grow, forgive and forget." I say.

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"And kill humans?" She adds to my sentences.

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"I also had my 'kill all humans' phase. They're shit. And then we are the ones ending the world." I roll my eyes.

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"Not all of them. I kept hearing one of your friends talk about some human in their sleep." She tells me bored. "A bunch of good things. But that's keeping me out at night. How can you even sleep?" She asks me.

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"I don't know, I'm tired all the time. And this is becoming much more of a bigger problem every day." I mumble.

That's the last thing I say before arriving to Doll's house.

It looks... The same. But it looks like nobody entered in a while.

"It's locked, good thing I can destroy the door-" Mom says but I pick her up.

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"Not today. I have the key, no solver needed." I tell her, before putting her back down. It's weird to hold my own mom.

I unlock the door. The house is all dark, except the millions of eyes that are looking at us. I turn of eyes that are looking at us. I turn on the light, and the red fills the room.

"SHE LIVED LIKE THAT-" Mom asks surprised.

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"I'm telling you that I almost died here because of a murder attempt. Twice." I rumble. "And here's also where my solver powers first activated..." I say a little more quietly.

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"Well this seems promising- OH ROBO-GOD WHAT'S THAT!?" She yells after she sees the bunch of bugs climbed on Doll's parents' bodies.

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"... Uhh... This is your old friend I guess." I tell her, approaching the bugs to scare them away.

The bodies of Yeva and Nikolai are still sitting there, the same way they did two weeks ago. Mom is speechless. Then she goes in another room.

"MOM WHERE ARE YOU GOING????" I yell.

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"I need to see their computers." She says from the other room.

I enter where she went. It's a room I didn't actually notice existing. It's full of computers and laptops, and they seem... Quite new. Mom boots up one of the laptops. I move my hand to try to help mom do things easier.

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"DO NOT touch anything!" She yells worried. "Knowing Yeva's hacking knowledge, every single device in this house can get you a pretty nasty virus." She adds. I now try to be more careful and to not even touch the floor if possible.

The screen to the laptop mom turned on lights up, and it asks for a password. I hear her mumble something, then she types 'игрушечный_пистолет', and it was right????

"MOM HOW DID YOU KNOW HER PASSWORD???" I ask her.

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"We were friends. Wow, you really need to socialize more." She responds amused.

I groan, but watch how she navigates on the laptop.

"What are you doing?" I ask her.

|

"Searching for a backup program. I am pretty sure Yeva would have done something like that, or at least would have teached her daughters how to make one." She responds. "Okay, it doesn't seem to be on THIS laptop, we only have to check the rest... 29 devices!" She adds annoyed.

|

"Uhhmm... I'll leave you the key... I am going back home, dad must be going crazy with all those crazy people inside my room." I say, and I run out the door.

But before I get out of the house, I see something sparkle in the kitchen. I go there, and I see a phone light up from a call. It looks a lot like Doll's broken phone, the one she had before she changed it. An unknown number is calling it. The vibration is annoying me. Then it stops. I guess the caller ended- NO THAT MOTHER FUCKER IS CALLING BACK.

"OH DEAR ROBO-GOD JUST CLOSE ALREADY!" I say, picking up the phone from the table, and trying to end the call. It doesn't work. "Ughhh go to fucking HELL." I yell, throwing the phone into the wall.

The next second I get a notification on my screen.

File Download Starting

█  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘  ❘

Force Stop | Close Notification

"Oh fuck. FORCE STOP FORCE STOP FORCE STOP-" I yell, trying to chose force stop but it doesn't work and it automatically chooses close notification.

|

"Everything alright Uzi?" I hear mom asking me from the other room.

|

"Uhhmm... Uh yes, I just left the key on the counter!" I lie, putting the key on the table and leaving to go home.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

"UZIIIII YOU'RE BAAACK!" N runs and hugs me when I enter the room. I chuckle.

|

"Yeah, did you guys behave?" I ask the three drones.

|

"Mhm." V says, texting on her phone.

|

"Yup. N yapped about that anime you you three watched yesterday. He finally shut up. Thanks." J responds annoyed.

|

"Yeah, thanks- Wait you alright?" V adds, but then she looks at me, and she looks worried.

|

"What do you-" Is all I get to say before collapsing down. I put my hand on my face, trying to get the heat to calm down. N is looking around scared, but he finds a can of oil and hands it to me.

|

"Take this." He tells me. I drink it, and relax, chilling down. "You should start drinking oil more often, you overheat faster than us!" He warns me.

|

"I know, I know, I am still getting used to having to keep Cyn inside my head." I mumble. But that's not what I'm worrying right now.

"Wanna see what I drew?" N asks me, trying to get me out of my taughts I think.

|

"Sure!" I smile. He takes a piece of paper from the table and shows me a dog. It looks like all his other drawings but I can't say he's bad at drawing, he's going to learn one day!

|

"Very good drawing N!" I compliment him.

|

"Kill yourselves." J says. "I'm out, at least Lizzy knows how to not be gross." She adds, leaving the room.

|

"Soo, what are we doing now?" V asks us bored. "And no N, no anime." She adds the second N opens his mouth to talk.

I hear the door unlock, and I guess mom came back.

"How about we have some time to find more about all of us?" Dad asks me. Mom is shaking her head in disapproval behind him.

"Oh, sure mister Khan!" N says happily. Me and V exchange glances. We both know we're already fucked.

𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂~𖥂

Prev | Next | Masterpost

End of Chapter 1!!! I hope you liked it. I have wrote a bunch of stories before (that aren't finished yet) but I decided to try to do something different, to make the dialogue stand out more. If you liked the fanfic, or if you want to leave your opinion, coment on the fanfic, or write me on my Tumblr or Pinterest.

[nightmare-in-the-woods]

Malleus rant where I shall be calling him Mal or Mal-Mal

I feel like all of the beast men/animal fae in TWST would love a constantly cold significant other. And I'm totally basing this off of myself but I love to steal hoodies and clothes (especially oversized ones) and cuddle. And I'm cold all the time which makes me want to do it MORE And all of those characters have heightened senses of smell, and I feel like they'd all be possessive af due to the animal instincts and such. So constantly old partner = cuddles AND stolen clothes which then = partner smelling like them all the time PLUS partner obviously being theirs due to having their clothes as a mark for those who DON'T have that weighted sense of smell.

I also just like the thought of giant pouty boyfriend pulling tiny sleepy boyfriend into lap for cuddles because he's feeling possessive and wants tiny to smell like him and also snuggles. (I'm...gonna need someone to draw Mal-mal doing that.... If you do draw it tag me pleaseeee)

Also Mal's mood effects the weather so imagine someone flirting with you and then suddenly hearing really loud thunder and lightning strikes down really close to you and the person and you turn around and BOOM pouty dragon boyfriend. He's so oblivious and kinda stupid I love him so much, If you said "we should go out on a coffee date, how does 10 tomorrow work for you?" He would answer that that's too many.

Running up to Mal and being excited about something and wanting to share it with him!!!! And then the sky starts getting clearer and the sun shines brighter as you stay around him!!!! And then Sebek starts yelling at you for being improper and you get sad!!! And then it gets cloudy and Mal GLARES at Sebek so he shuts the fuck up!!! And Mal tells you to continue!!!! An it gets sunny again as you get excited again!!!

Listening to Mal talk about gargoyles for hours and being interested in them too and being happy to learn about them!!!! Joining Malleus's gargoyles appreciation club and being the only two members!!!! Walking around looking at the gargoyles all over campus and talking about them!!!! Drawing them with him!!!!! Ughhhhhhh I love this maaaaannnnn!!!!!!

Learning about his home!!! Teaching him about technology because pretty boy is worse than Simeon with it!!! He's broken so many phonesss

GIVING HIM A ROCK YOU THINK IS PRETTY OR JUST A GOOD ROCK AS A COURTING GIFT BECAUSE YOU ASKED LILLIA HOW TO ASK HIM OUT AND HE SAID THAT DRAGONS ASK TO COURT BY GIVING UP THE MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION THEY HAVE OR GIVING HIM YOUR FAV PLUSH BECAUSE ITS YOUR MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION DUE TO THE EMOTIONAL VALUE AND YOU TELL HIM "PLEASE TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM/HER/THEM FOR ME OKIES?" WHEN YOU ASK HIM OUT!!!!!! HIM BEING SAD AND POUTY THAT YOU BEAT HIM TO ASKING YOU OUT!!!

Being scared of yelling and having Sebek yell at you about your behavior towards Mal-mal and tearing up and Mal seeing it happen and being vv mad at Sebek and protective about it and aaaaaghhh

[fatuismooches]

FUCK I TOTALLY FORGOT TO SEND YOU AN ASK ABOUT THE FIC... i just got hit full force but like 89831 different fucking projects all at once MY BAD POOKIE BUT UGHHHHHHH oh my god.... part 2??? yes.. all of it is soooo YESS

YESS you visualized everything what you've been talking about how reader would react when they first wake up after centuries and honestly hella realistic EVEN THOUGH I JUST WANNA HOLD READER AND KISS THEIR FOREHEAD 😭😭😭

reader interacting with the segments has my HEARTTT oh my god.. especially omega.. he's SUCH A DEVIOUS MOTHERFUCKEGUJK,,, also reader naming the segments UGHHH i adore that idea so much pleaseee ,, i love how the segments who didn't give a shit suddenly changed their minds when reader said they wanna give them names... THE SWITCH UP AND THE IMMEDIATE DENIAL...

READER MEETING BABY ZANDY ,,, FUCKINGG hell got me sooo soft i wanna hold baby zandy and treat him soo nicely 🥹🥹

ALSO YESS omgg,,, this part has me sooo fucking soft like reader making friends??? with the other harbingers??? i love it... omg they'd be such good besties with columbina,, i think pantalone helps reader adjust to present time as well, especially with it comes with money or the economy (if you ever ask him about it)

but oh.... to top it all off nicely, you gotta sneak in some subtle angst!!! smh... (im so proud of you tho!! like yasss sis feed me sad shit >:333) poor scara and reader :( i think they would've gotten along if reader wasn't dottore's lover n' scara wasn't dottore's experiment ,,,

ALL IN ALL. fuck you pookie im not excited for the next two parts (im kidding I AM IM JUST... NOT READY... pleas epost it next year so i'll be ready enough thank you /jjj) NO SERIOUSLY THIS TIME,, THIS WAS SOOO GOOOD and i love it so much, really popped off honestly (evil laughs because it's dottore)... like im soo happy to see how much you've grown esp thru writing !!!

have a good day pookie, im going back to my grave where i died for the next few days 💗💗

ALSO I WAS GONNA SEND IN ANOTHER DOTTORE IDEA but i fucking forgot again. FUCKS SAKE i hate not writing shit down...

POOKS DONT EVEN WORRY!! Just make sure to take care of yourself ok?? School can really be an ass i understand-

BUT OMG GRENFRG AHHH YOU'RE MAKING ME SMILE TOO MUCH POOKIE AHHWQ I'm so happy you liked it 🥺 BUT NGL I WANNA GIVE READER THE BIGGEST HUG TOO 😭 i put them through too much don't i 😭 dw they will be getting Dottore comfort next chapter!!

Bro i love writing Omega as a devious mf so much 😭 IM SO GLAD U LIKED THAT PART BC I WAS GIGGLING TO MYSELF ABT HOW THEY DGAF ABT THINGS BUT THEN SUDDENLY THEYRE INTERESTED WHEN UR A PART OF IT

AND YESSSS READER MAKING FRIENDS RAHHHH that part was probably really long for a Dottore fic but. i feel like having friends is so important and fragile reader really deserve some niceness in their lives 🥺 AND OMG NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT. Fragile reader would be freaking blown away from inflation. i don't know how prices were four hundred years ago but they would probably be shocked to their core when they see how much expensive things are now?? imagine fragile reader trying to stop Dottore from buying things for them because of how expensive things are now, and they're having flashbacks to being a broke Akademiya student 😭 And Dottore is just honestly finding it amusing to see you freak out and beg him to save his money (it's okay, he's a Harbinger he's loaded) (as long as he's not spending it on experiments)

BUT YEAH MAYBE IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE... reader and Scara could have been friends :( we'll never know... but yasss i will continue to feed you sad shit >:) hehe I CANT WAIT TO POST THE FINAL PART!! ngl the ending of the fic was like. the first thing i wrote for it because it hit me and i was like i CANT forget this. im telling you pookie its gonna be pretty juicy. BUT THANK YOU YOU'RE BEING SO KIND AHHH it's really sweet of you. thank you for being here for so long in my writing journey (and my descent into Dottore madness) ily 🥺

[koreandragon]

Kdramas are in such a sorry state lately it's so sad. We're getting all these sequels for shows that mostly weren't supposed to have multiple seasons so they're a mess bc they have no story to tell. They're all dazzle razzle and no actual decent writing (taxi driver, nine tailed fox, romantic doctor etc) and then we have the 500 crime/thriller shows which are mostly deeply mediocre or downright awful. At least with romcoms if the chemistry is good and the character work is decent enough you can have a really fun show. With these dramas most of it hinges on a well written plot at which the majority fail spectacularly. News came out a few weeks ago that there are 80 dramas made that might never air bc they have no platform bc all the big ones cut the wen-thurs slot except jtbc so there are 80 dramas that will most likely rot after so much hard work and these could be great dramas, because their criteria is it will air if it has big names in it, so this is not a quality issue. Netflix really f*cked us, not only did it start the collapse of the us industry( writers are striking, actors are about to strike, shows are getting cancelled after 1/2 seasons and 8 episodes, shows getting purged for a buck, everyone is only looking for IP with big names and no one cares about good ideas or creativity) it also insidiously burrowed into the kdrama industry and changed the genres of dramas we get, the number of episodes we get, even the sequels bc it used to be no matter how huge a shows ratings were, the worst they could do was an extension, sequels weren't a thing that happened except very rarely in prodecurals like ten or vampire prosecutor. The entire thing is a sad state of affairs, another case of tech bros devastating an industry (I'm referring to the US tv/movie industry) they don't understand to line their pockets and moving on to the next one while the wreckage left in their wake will never be salvaged.

anon i absolutely agree. this is such a depressing topic for me especially because i just love cinema so much. my parents raised me to love movies then i eventually fell in love with tv shows and kdramas and it literally kills me to see the downfall of these amazing comforts in my life. i think the main reason why i haven't been here is because i just wasn't feeling like dragging through another kdrama with a medicore plot. y'all know what i was doing instead? watching old movies i've been meaning to watch for a long time or rewatching classics. you hear this every day and you could jump me for it but...they don't make them like they used to anymore. and idc how corny it sounds cause it's fucking true. exluding some very good recent movies where people making it still care about making an enjoyable piece of media (i don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of tom cruise or top gun, maverick was the only new movie in a long time that made me feel like i used to while watching movies and i literally cannot wait for the new mission impossible film). i'm a 100% with the writers strike, i really hope that they can get what they want and we will finally get back at least a fraction of something that was lost along the way. netflix was supposed to make things accessible, not turn the industry upside down and inside out then light it on fire and piss on the flames. every time i read a season 2 announcement of a kdrama i just go UGHHHHHHH. why are we adding seasons to a show that doesn't need it and why are we cancelling seasons for shows that needed to go longer to tell a story? what's the fucking rationale? oh oh OH mONEy???? netflix don't have enough MONEYYYY??? can't pay residuals to writers or renew a show that has moved people and has more story to tell but has money to make a squid game IN REAL LIFE (which is in itself like....the point flew over everyone's heads) and renewing shows NO ONE ASKED FOR?? oh what? what? more and more people are unsubscribing from your service? how could that be.....only if there was a solution to keep your subscribers by offering them quality content instead of mindless cash grabs....

i'll close this with probably one of my favorite posts on this site

[azumasoroshi]

minidura chapter 6 react

oh please let this chapter be celty and shizuo focused i love the besties

i think they should hang out and play smash bros and talk in sign language and terrorize gangs together

awww :(((

although him smoking reminds me of this one scene from omniscient reader's viewpoint where joonghyuk stares out a window dramatically trying to appear cool when he's actually super embarrassed

people are also more likely to smoke when they're upset because they feel like it helps them calm down

shizuo 🥺

ohhh he doesnt have the chibi and the usual 'normally this size, now this size!' thing :( this chapter probably wont be that sad because it's literally a gag series but still. not getting the greatest vibes

shinra step aside celty is my wife now

she's so sweetttttt ughhhhhhh

but yeah uh. there IS a reason they're afraid of him

i just had the horrible idea of 'what if they ran a shizuo campaign that just gave speeches about what a nice guy shizuo is' and that devolved into 'signing shizuo up to run for president' even though japan has a prime minister not a president

yk what fuck it SHIZUO FOR PRESIDENT LETS GO BABY

oh. suddenly im worried. shizuo's reputation is probably gonna come out of this even worse than it was before

THEY'RE SO TINY

celty is a horrendous actor godbless

crying. this isnt gonna go well

heiwajima shizuo serial old lady helper

i dont know how this is gonna go wrong but it's definitely gonna go wrong

is she gonna like. run from him or something?? or maybe izaya appears and shizuo just throws the package at him

LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

was NOT expecting that

i keep forgetting i havent published my post about isekai shizuo but like. the truck instinct to just ram into shizuo no matter the circumstances is hilarious actually. he beckons them to him with his shizu mating call

HE'S HELPING!!!! i dont know what the citizens are so scared of smh

shizuo asking 'what's next' obliviously like he's enjoying helping 😭my beloveddddd

how the hell can he mess up saving a puppy though. like. there's no way

I CACKLED OUT LOUD

THERE IS A WAY

SHIZUJESUS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HE'S HELPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is so sad actually like he's only done good things!!! he's been using his strength for good!!! man

oh lets go!!! actually why wasnt shizuo able to find a job as a construction worker or mover 😭 i assume something with izaya but still. he's so overqualified

awwwww it's working out!!!!!

AWWWWWWW

WHAT THE FUCK

thats actually nightmare fuel jesus christ asdjkhGKJSgd

shizuo looked so touched at the beginning too 😭leave it to izaya to ruin everything

was izaya the old lady at the beginning too?? did he hire the truck driver (again) to hit shizuo?? or does he just have a picture perfect costume of the old lady from before down to the wrinkle because ?????????

he probably wasnt at the beginning because all the stuff with helping people happened in one day and there's no way izaya could come all the way to ikebukuro to be the first person they tried to help or even know to come PLUS the lady actually looked shocked but. idk man izaya is unhinged when it comes to trolling shizu-chan so you never really know with him

i imagine his voice changed from old lady impersonation to regular smarmy izaya voice in the 'you know' too which is so. evil

although it does make me question how good his old lady impersonation is and why he can do one??

plus he said 'i dont crossdress' in that one ova but that has now been proven to be a lie! diversity win!! the cringe information broker from shinjuku crossdresses as old grandmas sometimes!!!

MAN

i had hope there for a second but this is in line with canon so 😔no change can actually happen hhhhhh

izaya jumpscare/10 chapter

[znitsamluv]

Bestie omg bestie something wild just happened I have to share it with u

I can't do this rn So basically I have this one friend (the one I had minor beef with from my past account) I tell her about this one book I REALLY wanted for a long time. I told her yesterday that I was hoping to buy the book today, but my family said we can't go out this week so we'll just go out next week. I was ok with that. But guess what just fucking happened

She texted me: guess which book I bought. I was like 'idk'. And then she sent messaged me a pic of the book that I wanted it's literally taking everything in me not to physically disintegrate on the spot rn omg omg om

AKUWOEJWKISS I HATE PEOPLE LIKE THIS !!! LIKE UGHHHHHHH

ok bestie I have got a plan since I have dealt with people like this , if she wants to copy you so bad give her a lesson,

1st step : look closely at her face , and try to guess the most horrible haircut/piercing possible on her and when you have an answer say that you are planning on getting the haircut/piercing and that you booked for tomorrow at a salon .

2nd step: text her at night acting sad and heartbroken that your mother told you to wait a bit , and from my knowledge about these kind of people she will want to get that haircut/piercing before you so she will go and do it and baaam she ruined herself without even noticing, a bad haircut will make her sad and if you chose a piercing then its healing process will be so long and on top of that if it looks bad on her then it is a winwin situation.

Hope that works for you bestie 😉 Also you should find new friends girl don't be tied up with toxic trash they will only bring you trouble.

[punksdocry]

God I absolutely fucking HATE how I look good in my selfies but never in other people's photos of me and I think in real life. Like I only look good from like a from specific fucking angle and I feel like I look like fucking total fucking shit 99% of the time. I want to look good so fucking bad. All of my friends are hot but I'm not. I hate being the ugly friend.

I don't know what it is. It fucking sucks though. I feel pretty and confident whenever I take selfies of myself and I think I'm looking really good but then I hang out with friends and neck and chin are always so fucking ugly and hair gets matted and my eyebrows look so big and I have NO FUCKING NECK and I'm fat and ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh it sucks it sucks it sucks it sucks and it's not fucking fair because all I want is for other people to look at me and think I'm pretty and want to be like me but I will never feel and it makes me feel sad and pathetic and stupid and ughhhhhhh how do I get pretty I hate my genetics. My mom and dad both look good but I somehow wound up looking like I just rolled out of a potato field

[unriding]

very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh

okay it’s officially been a full day since reading this and i’m going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didn’t put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC

okay i should start from the beginning. Wait I’ll use caps so it’s easier to read if you’re reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! It’s different from what I’m used to reading— and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and they’re so real for that.

Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what he’s comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.

WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didn’t want him to be scared either you know ):

I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said ‘I like your eyes because they’re yours” and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because it’s ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.

Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because I’m still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we don’t want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually that’s a lie I wasn’t giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine 😭😭 ughhhhhhh /pos

I won’t comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):

ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in words….. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I haven’t read the other tags under your fic but I’m sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me I’m sure bsjsjsjsjsk

I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of details— Aventurine’s reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.

^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first …. To him asking for the scent gland ….. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didn’t just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so well— it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)

Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. I’m really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And … for reader…. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. It’s so comforting…. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. I’m really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): it’s so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (I’m so sorry if this is creepy I promise I don’t do this on a regular basis. I don’t annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because I’m a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (That’s a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos

NIGHT FLOWER: part i

Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.

written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza

13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.

thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!

“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”

You knew it from the moment you met him.

Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.

Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.

You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.

And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.

You didn't belong to your slaver.

You belonged to him.

To Kakavasha.

These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.

Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.

Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”

She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?

Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.

He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.

“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”

“Vasha—” you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.

“‘Aventurine’,” he corrected.

You stared blankly. “What?”

“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”

“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”

“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”

“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”

“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.

“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”

“You’re hiring me?”

Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.

“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”

Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.

“Kakavasha—”

“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”

You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”

It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.

He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”

“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”

“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”

“And what have you lost, Vasha?”

He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.

Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.

Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.

He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.

The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.

Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?

But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.

A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?

You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.

At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?

You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.

But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?

You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.

But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.

He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?

“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.

This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.

When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.

It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.

You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.

But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.

So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.

And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.

It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.

And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:

Aventurine is always afraid.

It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.

You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.

“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.

“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”

“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”

“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”

You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.

Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”

You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.

“You could die,” you point out.

“You'll protect me.”

“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”

He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”

“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”

“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”

“You're a shit liar.”

That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”

“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”

He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”

“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”

“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”

“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”

“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”

You arch a brow. “...the weather?”

“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”

You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”

“Aventurine.”

“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”

“Aventurine.”

“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”

“Aventurine.”

“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”

Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”

“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”

“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”

“No such thing.”

“Then you can settle down with someone.”

That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”

“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”

“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”

“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”

He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”

“You can't know that.”

“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”

You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”

  “Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.

“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.

“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”

During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.

It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)

You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.

“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.

“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”

“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.

Nothing.

“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”

“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.

You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.

You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.

It gutted you.

It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.

And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.

“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.

“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”

“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”

“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”

No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.

Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.

“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”

“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”

He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.

“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”

As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.

When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.

Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.

Hated being an alpha.

Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.

Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.

It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.

Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.

By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.

After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.

“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.

His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.

Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.

“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”

He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.

It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.

You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.

You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.

You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.

Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.

“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.

“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”

Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.

“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”

“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.

“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”

His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”

You frown. “Aventurine—”

“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”

A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”

“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”

“I’ve barely—”

“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”

“You really need—”

“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”

“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”

“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”

You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.

“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”

“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”

“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”

You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“I know.”

You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.

But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.

You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?

But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.

“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”

He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.

“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”

When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:

Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.

It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.

You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.

None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.

You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.

Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.

And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.

Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.

The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.

Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.

You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.

“What do you want to do?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”

He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.

But he still doesn't stop you.

After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.

There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.

He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.

“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”

“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”

He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.

Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.

This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.

“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”

Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—

“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”

“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”

You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”

Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.

“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.

You listen carefully. “What?”

“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”

“Okay.”

You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.

Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.

“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.

“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.

Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.

Both of you inhale sharply.

You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.

Fuck.

“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.

You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.

“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.

“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”

You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.

But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.

“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”

“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”

His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.

“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”

Something claws the walls of your heart.

“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”

Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.

You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.

Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.

(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)

Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.

(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)

It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.

You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.

“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”

“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”

“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”

When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.

A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.

And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.

He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.

“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”

Aventurine is always afraid.

This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?

You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.

It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.

Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”

You nod.

“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”

“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”

Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.

“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”

Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.

Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.

“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.

If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.

Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.

He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.

You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—

—before he looks away.

There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.

Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.

Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.

Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.

Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.

To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.

There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.

“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to?”

“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”

You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”

His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.

But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.

“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”

You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”

He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”

It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—

“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”

“...oh.”

You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”

You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—

—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.

You only want him to feel safe.

You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.

He does eventually speak.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”

You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”

Aventurine breathes in.

“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”

Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”

“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”

“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”

“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”

Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.

“Although?” you prompt.

“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”

You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”

His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.

You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.

But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”

You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”

“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”

You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.

But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.

Aventurine doesn't push you away.

He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.

You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.

It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.

You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.

end part i

thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!

and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.

additional end notes

[transxfag]

long + extremely personal relationship post underneath, lol

okay so this is not immediately sex related but i just had the most emotionally intense 10+ hours of my life related to non-monogamy oh my godddd

i got stuck at the airport bc my flight was delayed by like 4 hours, and while i was there my bf was going on his first grindr hook up since we opened our relationship, and i thought i would be okay with it bc ive been feeling so good and compersive and connected to him lately - but i was panicked and physically unable to get my energy out the entire time, just watching his little gps icon move to and from the other guy's location - and i think choosing to have him go on his first hook up while i was stuck in a public space was the wrong move bc, for example, i really wanted to go for a run as a way to distract myself and not fixate on the hook up + get my energy out, but i was at the airport so instead i just had to sit there and listen to a podcast which was not v distracting :/

and i also think i severely underestimated how much *i* would struggle with his first time hooking up, specifically without being able to reconnect physically again - bc by the time he was done with his hook up, my flight was taking off and i didnt land until almost 3am so he was already home and asleep

and i just could not stop panicking! not getting somewhat-immediate reassurance verbally that he loved me + nothing had changed + everything was alright and he had a good time and the world wasnt on fire etc etc - it just had me absolutely miserable, just crawling out of my skin, my thoughts were so obsessive and i was vacillating so wildly btwn fear (what if smth bad happened? what if he doesnt love me anymore? what if he had better sex with that person than with me? what if this changes our relationship?) and anger (how dare he fall asleep before my extremely late flight landed, how dare he not somehow already know how much im struggling right now, how dare he have the ability to make me feel this way) and despair (everything sucks, i'll never feel good again, what's the point in doing an open relationship, what's the point in voicing my feelings and needs, i should just go to sleep and pretend nothing is wrong and bury my feelings)

anyway, then he woke up at around 6am, saw my panicked texts, and we facetimed and i did my weird shutting-down-physically thing - this thing i do that my therapist says is a version of the "freeze" of fight/flight/freeze/fawn - it feels almost like im passing out, i start shaking violently and cant speak or keep my eyes open, if im standing i have to lay/sit down - and he just comforted me over facetime while i let the episode wash over me and i could hear my heart beating so so so loud in my ears

he told me a little about the experience and i felt anxious at first, but then once i had the knowledge of what happened - he picked the guy up, drove around, had sex in the back of my bf's/my car (my bf topped the guy, wore a condom), had a good time, dropped the guy back off, went home - it kind of settled over me and felt less scary - i mean, it's still kind of scary lol, but less so, now. and i think a part of my jealousy / the way i am about non-monogamy is that im already eroticizing it - im getting turned on at the thought of my boyfriend, excited to do some public/car play with this cute trans guy he just picked up today, already so horny even after i rode his cock for an hour just last night (!!!!), so eager to show this guy a good time!! and apparently he did that + it was a good time, and the part of me that isnt panicked/scared of abandonment/change/etc, is just horny at the thought of my boyfriends cock in another trans guy's hole. he said that, while he ofc had fun, he did kind of feel like "oh, i miss being inside [me]" and get a little sad at the thought of not being able to fuck me for another month now that im out of the state again - and that is so so so hot and cute to me

UGHHHHHHh this is why i said its such an intense emotional rollercoaster - i went from panicked and scared to turned on and in love!!!!!!! somehow, not despite but maybe in part b/c of fucking other ppl, im just so in love with my boyfriends and i want him more than ever!!!!!!

anyway im gonna watch some porn and try to jerk off to relieve some tension and then hopefully get some sleep

[fraemlingg]

im just gonna freestyle this text so this is not gonna be very thought through or whatever but literally i am so incredibly sick of social media i am sooo sick of that ugly AI slop everywhere and algorithms and ads and everything being designed to keep us glued to our screens no matter the consequences

i am sick of monetarisation i am sick of posting my art online literally begging for people to like my posts in hopes of being able to make at least a lil money with my art one day it feels like im selling myself out and its so fucking far from authentic like im a tattoo artist and so i follow a bunch of other tattoo artists and although they all have such amazing unique styles everything feels so performative and i KNOW that every single one of them feels the same and its so fucking sad that we cant really do anything about it

and im not trying to sound pretentious but i?? kinda hate meme culture?? it pisses me off?? can we not have normal inside jokes anymore why are 10 people sending me funny little posts even though they know i will not look at them (and like rlly truly no offense bc i know they do it bc they love me and think of me and i love them for it and i appreciate it in one way or another im not being judgy rn thats not my point). i want to write letters not dms but i feel like if i were to say that i might be called "cringe" which yknow is a concern i already expressed in another post and might be a me-problem but as ethel cain said it so fantastically nothing is taken seriously anymore and i hugely blame social media and meme culture

and like pls keep enjoying ur memes im again not judging just speaking from my subjective experience and that experience is that it caused me brainrot im not sure i'll ever be able to fix and that SUUUUCKS dude we all got dragged into phone addiction without a fucking choice and it will just get worse and worse and worse

i watched LuvstarKeis youtube video on why you should make a website and i think they (i looked everywhere for their pronouns sry if i got it wrong ;w;) have such good points i rlly enjoy their youtube videos in general. so yea in the long run i think im gonna create a website (or two to separate tattoos n music), post it to instagram with a statement, and then im gonna "leave instagram". putting that in "" bc im gonna keep my instagram but only so people can dm me for appointments or other things bc i dont wanna give out my telegram and people these days are too damn lazy to write a single email (even dj bookers lol it pisses me off a bit like what do i have this mail for then). like why are people using AI to write emails pls make it stop sometimes we have to do things that are inconvenient and that is actually a GOOD thing my fucking god, same thing goes for physical media like dvds nd such like fuck streaming services but thats another topic for another day

im probably gonna keep posting on my priv instagram just bc like. theres so many photos on there from so many years ago that would probably be lost if i deleted that account nd like i go on there like every 3 months or so to dump my photos there and then i log off so whatever. i am mostly pissed off about sharing art on social media and feeling so unauthentic about it and being glued to my phone when i could do so many other much better things liKE UGHHHHHHH

i think dead internet theory is scary and depressing but lowkey i hope the internet is actually dying bc i am so sick of this internet society. i am so goddamn sick of everyone being addicted to their phones. remember when we had a life like?????? how did we end up like this

i also wanna get a flipphone one day but yea i gotta plan that shit

i just needed to vent i could probably go on for ages about this but imma choose to shut the fuck up now

[whwie]

RAHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OMGGGGGG

UGHHHHHHH

fuck man wtf dude I hate this, I'm up wayyy too late

ughhhh I hate how I get along with him, it's dumb that I like him likeeeeeeeeeeee........

I wish that I could put a voice recording here bc like AHHHH UGHHHH

a friend asked recently what do u like about him and I was like uhhh idk and then I started explaining it and it was like man...

okay so I genuinely like how competent he is and how hard working he is. Like he's good at stuff because he pushes himself and honestly that's very admirable. and like I can tell he'd be a great listener cuz he's super observant.

so back to my friend being why do you like him, I genuinely think he'd be a good boyfriend if he has a lover that communicates well (which in my delulu mind is me as the lover) ((I communicate pretty well with ppl, even in platonic relationships)).

But since I've thought that thought ^ IVE GONE MAD. I hate it that it's in the back of my mind when I try to sleep BECAUSE I KNOW HE DOESNT LIKE ME AND HE DOESNT WANT A RELATIONSHIP.

NOTHING WILL HAPPEN AND IM MAKING MYSELF SAD.

[fleurriee]

im here im here im here!!!! gonna put a divider below bc i rANTED

also?? lo’ak in that gif?? 👀🥵

Lo’ak had begged his parents the morning after to save you.

He pleaded and begged, getting on his knees as he sobbed into his Sa’nok’s thigh, covering it in his warm tears and snot.

god its only just begun and already im upset

You are everything to Lo’ak and it pained him to not know how you were doing or what was happening to you during your time in the enemy’s hands.

seeing lo’ak like this honestly breaks my heart, this is cruel

He could only pray to Eywa every night to keep you safe and spare you, fully aware that if she answered his call, she’d need something in return. And he was fully prepared to pay the price with his own life.

no we’re not doing that lo’ak ur too bby

The first time you realized you had been in the RDA’s grasp for too long was the night Spider had snuck into your room and gently sang happy birthday to you.

SPIDER YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING!! i can just imagine this 🤧

A shrug from Lo’ak was his only response to the girl’s comfort, tears beginning to prick his eyes as he began to crave your touch and soothing lips against his. He began to forget what it was like to have your hands and lips on his own skin, making the hole in his chest increase in size.  

ughhhhhhh this is so beautifully written but im upset he’s feeling this way. lo’ak really deserves the world, i stand by it.

You were Lo’ak’s salvation and he never hesitated to remind you.

THE WORDS THE FEELINGS

“Which one is it?” She asked, not trying to sound like she was prying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was just curious.

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”.

“Which one has you wrapped around their finger?”.

tsireya my bby girl. i fucking love her & i will protect her until the day i die.

Maybe Neytiri was right. You should’ve never befriended the Sully children. You should’ve stuck to your own kind.

Lo’ak growled back at his Mother, ripping his arm out from her tight grip. The boy had his mind made up and nobody was going to stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed you.

ugh mama neytiri just wanted what was best for her family im sad. also?? possessive lo’ak?? im her for this yes please

You were the priority and he’d be damned if anyone stopped him from getting to you.

seriously why don’t I have my own lo’ak – this isn’t fair.

One minute Lo’ak was describing the connection to you, how it all worked and the next, you were under him squirming and calling out his name in pleasure. He knew that once such an act was done, he’d be tied to you forever. That in the eyes of the Great Mother you two were mates and forever bound to one another’s souls. After that, the two of you often found yourselves engaging to be together. Lo’ak felt as if it was another way he could feel connected to you without being able to perform tshaleyu. He never took the act for granted and always put your pleasure before his, worshiping every inch of your body before you could do the same to him.

this entire paragraph wth… i had to inclue it all, like i couldn’t cut it down but it was just perfect. you’ve written this so beautifully HOW. look, im more neteyam than i am lo’ak but wOW, this has me feeling like im gonna convert.

It had been the first time in years that Neteyam had held Lo’ak in his arms, turning him away from the sight of their Sa’nok as the elder practically held the younger in his lap.

im sorry but tHIS. the way i would’ve loved to have seen something like this gOD but we’ll never be able to cause james cameron is evil incarnate.

A smile painted itself across your lips once the familiar amber eyes you dearly missed made contact with your colorful ones, time seemingly coming to a halt as the both of you took in each other's presence.

THIS REUNION ITS LIKE A MOVIE UGH

“Go! Go!” Neteyam exclaimed, pushing the three of you towards a corner by the moonpool, snatching Lo’ak’s gun with a give me that!.

i know it’s a lo’ak story but like…. 👀 neteyam… 🥵

Everyone’s world stopped on its axis once Neteyam announced that he’d been shot, struggling to keep himself upright in the water.

Your hands were caked in blood. In Neteyam’s blood.

ffs i can’t do this anymore 😭

Indirectly or not, if Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t come back for you and Spider, then he’d be fine and not bleeding out in front of his family. He wouldn't be laid dying in front of you.

oh the guilt would eat away at me for the rest of my life, i can’t even begin to imagine.

“I do not blame you, (Y/N),” she spoke up, large amber eyes glued to the side of your face. “None of us do. It was not your doing for what happened that night. You were not the one with the gun,” she continued, her blue five-fingered hand coming to rest up against your shoulder in comfort.

kiri ily, you’re so unbelievably underrated its ridiculous.

…But, he knew that you were no longer his.

my heart just split into a million different pieces i cant dO THIS LO’AK YOU DUMB BEAUTIFUL BOY

You were very pretty, she noted. No wonder Lo’ak fell so helplessly in love with her, she thought. Your beauty was something Tsireya had never seen before.

my bby tsireya coming through!!

“I told my Mother about us. About our relationship. About how much I love you. About how much I adore and see you. About that night at the Tree of Souls. I told her everything,” he rambled, tears clinging to his waterline as he tried to hurriedly blink them away.

“I only care that you’re in my life and that you love me just as much. You have been such a big part of my life for so long that I can’t imagine you not in it.”

… delicately moving into the small lab and removing your mask from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead as you began to snore in Lo’ak’s arms.

That there was no one else but you that he truly saw himself with. The teen would do anything for you, no matter what it entailed.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS ENTIRE THING. everything about it was so amazing, the way you made sure to include enough about the angst between their separation, all the way to the reunion, to MORE angst & then finally reconciling together ughhhhh!!

Tidal Wave

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, more angst, comfort (from tsireya to lo’ak + from spider to reader + from kiri to reader), & fluff (at the very end)

word count: 14.4k+ (holy fuck)

warning(s): suggestive content, crying, yelling, familial arguments, secrets are spilled (😬), neytiri + lo’ak arguing, mentions of violence + self inflicted injury (reader rubs skin raw), mention of incident at ta’unui clan, slightest lo’ak x tsireya, reader having self-deprecating thoughts, lo’ak being lovesick for reader, mention of lo’ak being sad, major character death, sprinkle of miscommunication / misinterpretation of actions, blood, slightest spider x reader, kiri + reader are bffs!, heartbreak?, cursing, & mentions of having little appetite

taglist: @bewbz2110 @httpjiikook @aonungsmate @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez @heart-an0n @omnifanfic @toomuchtime02 @bigdikzaddy @anxietydrogz @myh3artttt @ancientbeing10 @yourusername1 @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @arminsgfloll @optimisticblazetrash @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @alohastitch0626 @btsiguess-kpop @ithinkimaslutforharry @zootymcnooty @zeeader @reallysparklychaos @zeida @coffeehurricanes @manumanulau @pumpararapam @ipang @willowcxmilee @audigay @sagaonpandora

word bank: sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, tawtute — human; sky person, ikran — four winged creature used for hunting + flying, kehe — no, palulukan — thanator, sìlpeytsyìp — little hope (idk if it’s an accurate translation since i just put the words hope + little together), tulkun — whale like creatures, ilu — sea creature used for hunting + riding, yawne — beloved, & nga yawne lu oer — i love you

songs that i drew inspo from: a match into water by pierce the veil, gilded lily (sped up version) by cults, mr. forgettable by david kushner, & reflections by the neighbourhood

note: huge shoutout to @neteyamslovrr for helping me proofread this! ilysm baby 😭🫶🏼🤍 mentions of readers birthday takes place around 3-4 months after her & spider were kidnapped (so reader, kiri, spider, & lo’ak are aged up to 17-18). i imagined the events of atwow happening over a couple of months due to the fact that ronal is more visibly pregnant towards the end than when we first see her. so, just for clarification :)

Lo’ak had begged his parents the morning after to save you.

He pleaded and begged, getting on his knees as he sobbed into his Sa’nok’s thigh, covering it in his warm tears and snot. But, Jake’s answer stayed persistent: “They are strong kids, son. They will be alright,”. Of course, Jake wasn’t aware that Lo’ak and his other siblings heard what he had to say about you and Spider the night before during he and Neytiri’s heated discussion.

( “The kids know everything! They know where we live! Spider knows our whole operation. We are not safe as long as they have those two. They both can lead him right here! We are no longer safe staying here.” )

Lo’ak knew that neither you or Spider would ever give up the location of High Camp or of the Sully family. The both of you were loyal to a fault. Perhaps too loyal for your own good. It hurt to hear that his own Sempul would ever think that you would betray the family you grew to think of as your own. Lo’ak knew you better than anyone else.

Having to leave the Omatikaya and not even attempt to save you made Lo’ak resent his parents, his heart completely breaking into two as he got farther and farther from his home and essentially you. It was days before he had spoken to his parents after arriving at Awa’atlu, but it wasn’t like his parents sought out to speak to him either.

The more time he spent on the island, the more time he found himself yearning to have you by his side. To experience all of this with you. There was a constant hole in his chest that never left, deepening every time he thought of you. He had no way of knowing if you were being tortured at the current moment or even alive. He didn’t trust the RDA to keep you alive, especially once they saw how loyal you were to Jake and his family, disposing of you like you were nothing. You are everything to Lo’ak and it pained him to not know how you were doing or what was happening to you during your time in the enemy’s hands.

He could only pray to Eywa every night to keep you safe and spare you, fully aware that if she answered his call, she’d need something in return. And he was fully prepared to pay the price with his own life.

———

The torture they put you through was something you’d never would wish upon your greatest enemy.

They had ceased the torture on Spider, the orders being given to them by Quaritch. So, Ardmore turned to you and inflicted all kinds of pain and continuous torture onto you. The human boy begged Quaritch to put a stop to this, demanding him to let you go. But no matter how much Spider pleaded with the man or how many times he went over it with Ardmore, the woman didn’t budge. She was insistent on getting something out of you. But all she really got was memories and flashes of a tall Na’vi teen boy and nothing else. Things that were useless to her, so she punished you every time.

The first time you arrived at their base, their doctors had pulled you aside and assessed you. They deemed that you had multiple fractured ribs and a mild concussion, ordering Ardmore to let you heal before she decided to do anything. She agreed to it at first since she had Spider to get information out of, but once Quaritch told her that he was off limits and was going to comply with him and his team, she began to drag you out to the interrogation room and leave you in there for hours until you passed out.

It was the same routine for weeks. Wake up, get dragged to the interrogation room, receive endless amounts of torture for hours, pass out, repeat. Days began to blur together, not knowing where one began and the next stopped. It was all the same.

The first time you realized you had been in the RDA’s grasp for too long was the night Spider had snuck into your room and gently sang happy birthday to you. It must’ve been months then. Your seventeenth birthday was celebrated nearly a year before being taken hostage by Quaritch. Ardmore had deemed it best to separate Spider and you from each other, breaking down both of your support systems. That night, as you and the boy silently cried into the dark of your room, you lost all hope that Lo’ak was coming back for you.

It hurt too much to think about. But you knew, you knew that eventually, it was never going to work out. You were too different. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, ripping the two of you from each other and essentially ending the relationship you had with one another. You loved Lo’ak dearly but you knew that your love was never in the cards. It was something taboo, forbidden. You only hoped that Lo’ak was able to find comfort within someone else during this time. For you doubted that you’d ever see each other again. He needed someone like him. Not you.

———

Lo’ak had done everything he could to keep his mind off of you.

He needed to keep his mind off of you if he didn’t want to break down in the middle of the beach twenty-four-seven. So, he often spent more time training with Tsireya and got into meaningless fights whenever he could, angering his parents to no end. It worked at times, but often not, his mind always wandered back to you. Always.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing?” A soft voice asked, pulling the boy away from his never ending thoughts of the one person he desired to see.

“Moping,” he mumbled, crossed legged on the shoreline as he picked at the soft sand beneath him.

“I can tell,” she replied, taking a seat next to him. The boy next to her looked like a wounded puppy, ears drawn back as his tail laid limp beside him. Plus, he had a frown painted onto his face as he blankly stared at the sand below. “What is bothering you?” She asked, calmness etched into her voice.

Lo’ak hadn’t told her, or any other Metkayina for that matter, about you and the kind of relationship you shared. Sure he mentioned you and Spider and what happened before he and his family left to seek uturu from the reef people. But he never gave anyone the idea that he was in love with you. He didn’t know how any of them would react.

“Is it about the humans you mentioned earlier?” She added, filling in the silence that was growing between them as Lo’ak didn’t answer her previous question.

The boy only hummed, poking his fingers into the damp sand. He really didn’t want to talk to Tsireya about this. It risked the chance of his Sa’nok hearing or a stranger eavesdropping and telling everyone else in the village about how much he cared for a tawtute. It also hurt to talk about you. Because he knew once he started, he was never going to stop.

“I am sorry that they were taken. I know they meant a lot to you and your siblings,” Tsireya commented, truly feeling sorry for the young boy. She could tell that Lo’ak deeply cared for the humans and she couldn’t imagine losing someone that close to her like that.

A shrug from Lo’ak was his only response to the girl’s comfort, tears beginning to prick his eyes as he began to crave your touch and soothing lips against his. He began to forget what it was like to have your hands and lips on his own skin, making the hole in his chest increase in size.

“What were their names again?” She delicately asked, genuinely curious. Foreign things always interested the girl and she had never seen a tawtute before. So, befriending people that have, made her want to ask all of the questions she’s been dying to ask. The girl knew that her chance of meeting a human was extremely low before the Sully’s arrival, but that still didn’t stop her from wondering.

A small smile etched itself onto the corners of Lo’ak’s lips as he thought about you. Your name was probably his favorite thing to utter. It becoming a prayer during the darkest hours of the night, with you being the only one to answer his mumbled words. You were Lo’ak’s salvation and he never hesitated to remind you.

“(Y/N) and Spider,” he replied, fingers now fiddling with the anklet around his foot. You had made it for him for his fifteenth birthday. The poor boy had been so flustered while trying to tie it around his ankle that the woven material kept slipping through his fingers. You offered your help with a giggle, your soft fingertips causing fire to erupt against his skin as they trailed from his ankle bone to his calf in a teasing manner. If Lo’ak closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could still feel the tingly sensation your fingers left behind in their wake.

“Those are…interesting names,” Tsireya giggled, testing out their names on her tongue, attempting to enunciate every letter and vowel to the best of her ability. “Humans have such weird names,” she comments, reflecting back on the time she briefly met Norm and Max when they came to visit after Kiri’s seizure.

Lo’ak only hummed in response, smile still on his face as he recalled all the memories he has of you. He missed you so much. He felt empty without you. He felt as if he had half a soul with you gone. His whole being ached to be with you, touch you, love you.

The Metkayina girl noticed Lo’ak’s almost blissful smile on his face, copying his actions. She could only assume that one of you meant more to him than the other. That the other held a special place in his heart. “Which one is it?” She asked, not trying to sound like she was prying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was just curious.

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”.

“Which one has you wrapped around their finger?”.

The question itself made Lo’ak blush, bottom lip going in between his teeth in an attempt to stop an even wider smile from making its way onto his face. Damn, he thought, she can read me like a book. You got to be more subtle man.

The boy gave her his answer, tail perking up and swaying to and from at the mention of your name, his body betraying him at trying to hide his affection for you.

“Can you tell me about her?” Tsireya asked, enthralled at how just the mere mention of your name influenced such actions from the Omatikaya boy.

Lo’ak didn’t need to be asked twice before he began to talk about you, barely taking any breaths in between each word he uttered. If only his Mother and Father could see how much love Lo’ak held for you. If only.

———

“Ready kid?”.

You’d rather throw yourself off the highest floating mountain than go with Quaritch and his team on their mission to hunt down Jake and his family. But, alas, you had to go. You had to go unless you wanted to continue to be tortured by the old blonde Captain. You hated that woman with everything you had in you.

Quaritch had promptly requested Ardmore to cease her torturous treatment on you, stating that he finally got a lead on where the Sully’s might be and that you were crucial to the plan he and his team were putting together. He needed you to go with them and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He saw how Jake’s son had reacted when he was teasing the boy about you. The boy cared for you and Quaritch was going to use it as leverage somehow.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You replied, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you. You absolutely did not want to go wherever they were going, but you didn’t want to stay behind and be tortured to death. So, you took the lesser of two evils (if you could even call it that).

Quaritch chuckled at your response, shaking his head, motioning you to follow after him. The man had taken a liking to you, much like he did with Spider. You weren’t afraid to express how much you disliked the man nor did you hesitate to express your distaste for the whole situation he put you in. He liked your bluntness and admired your loyalty to the Na’vi, even if it was a major inconvenience for him and his team.

You had only ridden on an ikran a handful of times before, Lo’ak only being able to convince you with his little pout and big pleading eyes. You never were a fan of heights and having to spend Eywa knows how long on an ikran to the next base Quaritch was heading to made you want to cry. At least with Lo’ak, you knew that he’d always catch you if you began to slip. But with Quaritch, you were confident he wouldn’t give two shits if you slipped off the flying creature.

“I am not getting on an ikran with you,” you commented, hands on hips as you approached the RDA Avatar soldiers and their ikrans. You were very surprised that the whole group managed to, successfully, claim an ikran within only months of being on Pandora whereas native Na’vi trained their whole lives for this. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth when you thought about it.

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Quaritch answers, turning back towards you once he reached his bonded companion.

The ikran was probably the most beautiful you’ve seen, even with your limited experience with the creatures. The whole body of the animal was a deep navy blue, streaks of gold and orange decorating its wings. The animal itself was gorgeous. It was ironic how someone so evil and ugly had managed to tame something so beautiful.

“Spider’s riding with me. You’ll ride with Z-Dog,” he continued, clicking his tongue towards the tall Avatar woman, gently petting his ikran as he did so.

Your eyes were torn from the navy creature in front of you to the woman. Your blood went cold as you made eye contact, her hard stare boring into your eyes as she robotically chewed at the gum in her mouth. Great, you thought, I’m definitely going to die.

“We don’t have all day, kid,” Quaritch commented, already mounted on his ikran as Spider sat in front of him, eyes worriedly scanning your figure as you stood there frozen in place.

Your eyes then drifted from the woman to her bonded companion behind her, its face gently nuzzling into her side affectionately. Your heart clenched at the sight of the animal. It looked almost identical to that of your boyfriend's ikran. Lo’ak’s was an almost dark blue, gold swirling around its neck and wings. His companion shared many similarities to the one of his Father, the only difference being the black patch on his protruding lower jaw. Memories of when Lo’ak took you out for rides on his ikran flooded your mind, making the hole in your chest double in size.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, snatching your forearm in her grip as she placed you onto the creature, placing herself behind you as she made tshaleyu with the animal. The winged creature chirped in delight at the sensation and shrieked once it readied itself to take flight, wings twitching.

You braced yourself for the ride, both hands tightening around one of the ikrans queues, thighs tensing in anticipation. The rides you had with Lo’ak were much more smoother and gentler. Lo’ak made sure to put emphasis on how he dismounted from the ground, trying to make it as smooth as possible for you. His bonded animal always complied, never rushing when he pushed off the ground and into the skies above. You found yourself missing that process as you desperately tried not to slip off the poor animal as it ascended into the blue sky. It was rough, to say the least.

Once you reached an appropriate enough altitude, Z-Dog steadied and leveled out her ikran, halting the rough turbulence you experienced moments prior. The creature chirped once again, smoothly gliding through the wind.

You always loved the feeling you got whenever you were up in the sky with Lo’ak despite your anxiety regarding heights. He always made sure that you were okay throughout the ride as well as before and after the fact. But with the stranger you were assigned to, you found yourself wanting to hurl in anxiousness. You only hoped that this was going to be a quick and fast flight to wherever the hell you were heading to.

———

The minute you stepped into the small room the tulkun hunters had allowed you to occupy during your stay, you fell to your knees. Sobs racked your body as your mind replayed the scenes that you witnessed only minutes prior. Arriving at the Ta’unui village. The gathering of their people like they were sheep to slaughter. Quaritch threatening the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan of the clan. Lyle shooting and killing a sea creature on his Colonel’s order. The burning of the peoples homes. The killing of a Mother tulkun. It all kept replaying in your head, even when you moved to the even smaller shower.

You tried so hard to rid of the memories in your head, of the smell on your skin, of the guilt you felt. You rubbed at your skin until it was raw and hot and bleeding. The permanent reminder of just what your race is capable of slamming to the forefront of your mind. It all felt wrong. It feels wrong being here. Feels wrong to live on Pandora where its native species had to experience the pain and constant attempts of colonization from a different species. It all felt like you were contributing to whatever Quaritch had in mind. Even if he didn’t tell you any details, you still chose to come along. Maybe staying behind with Captain Ardmore would’ve been a better option. After all, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were alive or not at the end of it for you already felt dead inside. Nothing and no one would be able to bring you comfort from what you just saw and gone through.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice asked, it cracking from the amount of emotion the owner felt.

“Spider,” you whispered, curling in on yourself as you saw his figure standing in your doorway, tears streaming down his face.

The boy made his way to your bed, laying on it, facing you on his side. Not a word was uttered between you two, not needing any to communicate the type of comfort you both seeked from each other. And you stayed like that, facing each other and grasping onto each other's hands for comfort as you unknowingly fell asleep, slumber welcoming you into its embrace. But even your dreams weren’t a safe place. You dreamt of fire, of blood, and of death the whole night.

Maybe Neytiri was right. You should’ve never befriended the Sully children. You should’ve stuck to your own kind.

———

The second Lo’ak heard that a boy and a girl had been with Quaritch and his team during their attack on a nearby village, he began to ready his ilu for the trip. For getting you back.

The boy had paced back and forth from the edge of the mauri to his swimming companion, bending down to slip on the various of saddles the animal needed for riding. The creature chirped up at him every time Lo’ak bent down, seemingly encouraging him as he did so.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked, confusion laced in their tone. Lo’ak knew who it was before they even spoke. His Sa’nok had a bad habit of sneaking up on everyone, being too quiet for her own good. The hairs on the back of his head always stood up on end whenever he felt his Mothers presence behind him, alerting him of the potential rage he was going to face from the woman.

“To save them,” Lo’ak mumbled, too focused on saddling the right equipment on his companion, fiddling with the straps as he tightened them. The boy knew that his parents never really cared for either of your well-beings, it being evident in their body language and actions whenever he or Kiri talked about the things they did with the pair of you that particular day. If they weren’t willing to save you, then Lo’ak would take it upon himself to. He finally knew where you were after months of not knowing and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms again.

A growl emitted itself from his Mothers lips, her hand coming out to grip her son's bicep into her grasp, “Kehe!”.

Neytiri didn’t know why her son was so infatuated with you, a tawtute. She was always against her children from befriending you and Spider, glaring at your figures everytime you walked by at High Camp. Her son seemed to be closer with you than Spider. The fact always bothered her, making her skin crawl with anger. Angry that you were occupying her son's time when he could be doing other things, meeting other people, and talking to other appropriate women of the clan.

“You will not,” she continued, scowl painted onto her face as she glared down at her son. She knew that if Lo’ak were to continue with his plan and make it to wherever you were, that Quaritch wouldn’t hesitate to shoot or take him prisoner. She couldn’t have that. Neytiri needed all of her children within eyesight so she could look over them and make sure that they were safe. She wouldn’t be able to do that if her son went to you.

Lo’ak growled back at his Mother, ripping his arm out from her tight grip. The boy had his mind made up and nobody was going to stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed you.

“I will. Why do you even care? You haven’t bothered to talk to me the whole time here. The only time you talk to me is to yell or scold me for doing yet another thing wrong,” Lo’ak hissed out, teeth tightly clenched. “(Y/N) and Spider care about me more than you ever have!” He added, whole body shaking in anger.

Neytiri gasped at her sons exclaimation, lightly hissing at him, “How dare you think that? I love you, Lo’ak. But they, they do not! They are demons! They aren’t capable of such things as love.”

Lo’ak’s ears drew back to press up against his skull and his lips drew up to show off his pointed fangs, a very loud hiss escaping from between his teeth. The hiss sounded almost roar-like, drawing attention from inside the Sully mauri, ears and tails perking up in interest.

Another gasp escaped from Neytiri’s throat. Her son had never hissed at her like that. Sure he had hissed at her playfully when he was younger or out of annoyance whenever she tried to get him to open up to her. But he had never hissed at her so…possessively. The only time she had heard a roar like this was when her husband was fighting off Quaritch during the Great Battle and he threatened everything he worked so hard to build during his time in the Avatar program.

“They do! She loves me. She’s capable of it and so much more. But you are too stubborn and stuck in your ways to see her the way I do. She cares for me, loves me. That I know,” Lo’ak grumbled out, fangs seeming to get even longer as he brewed in his anger. “I see her and she sees me. Something you and Dad never do,” he finished, turning away from his Mother as he reached out to grab the final thing he needed for his ride to you.

“What do you mean, Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked, anger laced in her voice. She knew what he was insinuating, but she needed to hear it come from his mouth. To confirm her suspicions. To confirm or deny what she had been thinking for years.

“I mean that she is mine. She is the only thing that I was ever able to have. I see her. She has taken me heart, body, and soul,” he slightly hisses out, not daring to look at his Mother as he spoke. He knew that once the confession of his sins slipped from his lips, there was no telling what his Mother would do. He didn’t want to be in the crossfire once she decided to act upon whatever she was feeling, her not being a top priority in his life at the moment. You were the priority and he’d be damned if anyone stopped him from getting to you.

“No,” Neytiri whispers, “You did not. Tell me you didn’t!”.

There were many things that his Mother could be referring to, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was hinting at. It was something that he had planned on doing with you once he properly courted you and way further into the future. But, nothing ever goes according to plan in Lo’ak’s life. The first time you guys had engaged in such an act was months before you were taken hostage. You had never been to the Tree of Souls, it being nearly impossible for you to get to without proper assistance. Lo’ak had decided to take you to it as a surprise on your weekly date night. The two of you had been dating for a while but never went as far as kissing or wondering hands against skin. It all happened so fast. One minute Lo’ak was describing the connection to you, how it all worked and the next, you were under him squirming and calling out his name in pleasure. He knew that once such an act was done, he’d be tied to you forever. That in the eyes of the Great Mother you two were mates and forever bound to one another’s souls. After that, the two of you often found yourselves engaging to be together. Lo’ak felt as if it was another way he could feel connected to you without being able to perform tshaleyu. He never took the act for granted and always put your pleasure before his, worshiping every inch of your body before you could do the same to him.

Her sons silence was Neytiri’s answer resulting in her loudly hissing at her youngest son, almost matching Lo’ak’s moments prior. That was the final straw to have Jake interfere between his arguing son and wife.

“You gave yourself to her? To a demon? Agh! Shame! You have brought shame upon this family and yourself. You tainted yourself with a human. Someone who can’t give you a future!” She yelled out, angry tears running down the expanse of her cheeks. Intercourse before mating wasn’t something that was taboo in the Omatikaya culture, but it was expected of the Olo’eyktan and his family to save themselves before then, demonstrating their loyalty to the people and their future spouse. So to hear her son, the second born of the Olo’eyktan, engage in such an intimate act with a human nonetheless, made her want to pluck his eyes out from the sockets that held them.

“Woah! Woah! Hey!” Jake said, jumping in between his son and wife before either of them could jump at each other's throat. His front faced Neytiri while his back faced his son. “Hey! What’s going on?” He gently asked, bringing his wife’s face into his hands as he tried to get her to focus his attention on him and not Lo’ak.

“Your son has mated with a demon!” She spat out, disgust interlaced in her tone. The way she felt towards the situation was evident enough on her face. Her lips were drawn back to flash her fangs and her nose was scrunched as if she just smelt a pile of Palulukan dung.

Jake froze at the words his wife spat, eyes darting to his son behind him. Although he froze at the words, he wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling that you and Lo’ak were more than just friends. He often caught his son gently rubbing at the marks you left on his skin during dinner, a smirk dancing across his youngests lips. Jake’s not stupid. He was Lo’ak’s age once and understood the urges he faced. But, he was human then and the Na’vi have a completely different way of thinking and going about things like this.

Jake didn’t question Lo’ak about whether or not what Neytiri said was true, already knowing the answer. He only sighed in response and tried to coax his wife to calm down.

“Go back in the house, son. Now,” Jake demanded, shooting him a look that told him he wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

Lo’ak wanted to argue and continue with his plan on rescuing you, but he knew that his pleading would be worthless, especially after his confession. So, he begrudgingly desaddled his ilu and made his way into the pod, ignoring the looks of his siblings as he made his way to his side of the house, throwing something against the woven wall before settling down in the corner. Tears left his eyes as he sat there. He was frustrated. All he wanted to do was see and hold you, but it seemed as if Eywa wasn’t on his side once again.

Why Great Mother? Why do you do this to me?

His heart further broke at the fact that you, yet again, slipped through his fingers. It seemed as if the whole universe was against the two of you. But, the universe be damned. Lo’ak was going to get you back no matter what it took. He’d burn down villages for you, destroy planets for you. He’d do anything for you.

———

“They found out?” A soft voice asks, pulling Lo’ak out from his zoning out episode.

He only hummed in response, eyes puffy from all the crying he did that night. His Mother screamed and cried at him after she talked to Jake, calling him what everyone else does, a disappointment. He desperately tried to get her to understand how he felt about you and how much he cared for you. He wouldn’t fall in love with just anyone, so you had to be very special to be the one to hold his heart.

Neteyam had been the one to comfort him that night as Jake and Kiri consoled Neytiri, trying to get her to calm down so she didn’t disturb any other Metkayina trying to sleep or seek shelter from the storm. It had been the first time in years that Neteyam had held Lo’ak in his arms, turning him away from the sight of their Sa’nok as the elder practically held the younger in his lap. Neteyam felt bad that their Mother was acting like this. Like she too hadn’t fallen in love with a tawtute. No matter how long Jake stayed on the planet and mingled with the natives, he would always be a human at heart. It’s hard to break out of old habits and it seemed as if their Father began to fall back into his sky people ways as of recent.

( “It’s okay, tsmukan,” Neteyam had whispered, Lo’ak barely hearing over the dramatic wails of his Mother. The boy had long been done with his crying, just blankly staring at the anklet wrapped around his foot. The last remaining thing he had of you.

“She doesn’t understand,” the older brother continued, stroking Lo’ak’s braids with such a gentleness, he thought for a second that it was you who was holding him. He only ever experienced such a gentle touch with you. It felt wrong that it wasn’t. That it was coming from his brother and not you.

“She does not,” Lo’ak confirmed, burying himself further into his brothers body, actively seeking his warmth to combat the shaking of his own body. “She never will,” he continued, eyes hardened to a glare as he stared at the intricately woven floor. She will never understand, he thought to himself, anger and sadness erupting in his chest. )

“A lot of the people heard your Mother last night,” Tsireya spoke up, sitting next to the dark blue boy. She felt bad for the teen. To be in love with someone you could never have must be heart wrenching. “I am sorry she acted the way she did. I hope she soon comes to the realization that you do truly love her,” she continued, trying to offer up the best comfort she could.

“I don’t think my Dad cared. Probably already knew before I told them. But,” he croaked out, voice coming out coarse as a result from his crying the night prior, “He didn’t do anything to stop Mom from saying those things about her, about me.”.

Having his Father allow his wife to continually insult his lover and him had made Lo’ak bitter. How come he wasn’t able to defend the one he loved but it was alright for Neytiri to throw such hurtful words to her own son? It all seemed hypocritical, backwards.

Tsireya frowned at Lo’ak’s words. She truly felt bad for him. She didn’t think that it was fair for his own Mother to react that harshly to the news. Didn’t she too fall in love with a human? It didn’t make sense to her.

“Oh, Lo’ak, I’m so sorry,” she whispered out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.

Nothing about this situation was ideal. Lo’ak wasn’t able to go and rescue you from the clutches of the RDA. Neytiri had scolded and reprimanded her youngest son for being in love, calling him all sorts of colorful names in the process. Jake hadn’t done anything to prevent his wife from her onslaught of scowls and hisses towards their son. The whole clan now probably knew about how Lo’ak was a sky demon lover. And Tsireya is the one comforting the boy when it should be his own family that we’re bringing him solace. It all became a mess so fast, everything crumbling down towards the ground within seconds.

Lo’ak only hummed in response to Tsireya’s sympathetic tone, too tired to give her an actual response. His eyes were bloodshot from all the tears he’s expelled over night. Lo’ak’s face was practically swollen from how hard he cried last night. He looked like a complete mess.

Eywa had to be punishing him for something for the deity that he grew up hearing about wouldn’t have allowed any of this to happen. Was it really that bad that Lo’ak loved you? That he loved a human? Surely the Great Mother held all of her children dear to her heart. So, why was she letting this happen? What was the bigger picture? What was the reason? Lo’ak wanted to know the answers to these questions so he could figure out why it was so wrong to love you when it felt so right to.

———

Pain spread throughout your lower back and hip, becoming warm as the nerve endings communicated with each other and the crushed blood cells came to the surface of your delicate skin. The minute Spider hijacked the ship and the vehicle surged forward, your body made harsh contact with the metal table in the middle of the room and the floor once it crashed amongst the jagged rocks.

“(Y/N)! You okay?” The human boy yelled out, scrambling up to his feet to get to your position against the floor.

A groan was your only answer, pulling yourself up the best you could before the soldiers and ship crew could grab you. You could feel the bruises already forming on your soft skin, heat spreading throughout the areas.

“Get them off the ship!” A voice demanded, catching your attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach upon hearing the words. They were going to take you somewhere farther from Lo’ak once more. Although you hadn’t gone down with Spider to see him and the others being held hostage at the front of the ship, you still didn’t want to be taken somewhere else where you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Hands wrapped themselves around your biceps, roughly pulling you up from where you kneeled, guiding you to the exit.

“Let go of me!” You hissed, ripping your arms from out of the strangers grip just in time to catch the mask being thrown at you by another.

“Put it on,” they demanded, putting on their own mask before looking at you as you put yours on, a scowl on your face as you did so.

The same person pushed you forward in front of them, urging you to walk forwards and down the metal stairs. You desperately wanted to push whoever was in front of you down the stairs and run towards wherever they were keeping Lo’ak and the rest. You only wanted to see him and make sure that he was okay. That he was still breathing.

“Make sure it’s tight,” a man commented, tugging on the side of your mask.

“She’s fine, dumbass,” Spider spat, pushing the man’s hand away from your masked face, putting himself between the man and you.

The man before you both scoffed and continued forward, leading the two of you somewhere on the ship where they kept their smaller boats.

Spider could sense your apprehension, grabbing your hand as the group of you continued to walk along the metal surface of the ship, shaking his head down at you as he dragged you besides him. He knew what you wanted to do, he wanted to do the same, but he knew that if you gave into that urge, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot either of you on the spot. He needed to keep you safe not just for Lo’ak’s sake but for himself too. You were his lifeline throughout this whole awful experience. Your presence itself helped him in more ways than one whenever he felt himself start to slip through the cracks while with Quaritch and Ardmore. If the two of you were going to make it out this afternoon, he needed you safe and alive.

Another man had exclaimed for the group to hurry up before the last of the boats left without them, getting cut off at the end of his sentence with a sharp exhale and groan as his body was thrown up against the wall of the ship.

Two large blue bodies had dropped down from above, pushing and punching the human men surrounding you and Spider, effectively killing them as they jumped from body to body.

“Lo’ak,” you whispered out, Spider pulling your back into his chest, away from Neteyam and Lo’ak, being wary of their size and strength.

A smile painted itself across your lips once the familiar amber eyes you dearly missed made contact with your colorful ones, time seemingly coming to a halt as the both of you took in each other's presence.

Lo’ak seemed to have filled out a bit, his biceps and thighs much larger than they were the last time you saw them. His hair was pulled back, showing off his sharpened jawline and defined shoulders and collarbones. Back in the forest, he rarely ever had his hair up, preferring it down so your fingers could have easy access to them whenever you wanted to run your smaller hands through the braids. His midsection seemed slimmer and tighter, displaying his developing abs along his stomach. Lo’ak seemed more confident in his physique as he stood there in front of you. You could practically feel it oozing off of him. The reef clan must’ve prioritized his training during his stay, you concluded.

As you gawked at the significant changes to your boyfriend's physical body, he too had his eyes glued to your figure.

Although much hadn’t changed, you still looked beautiful as ever. You had your hair down, different from your typical braid or usual hairstyle. You deemed having your hair out of your face more practical during your time in the forest. It just made everything easier as you explored and ran about. Due to Ardmore’s negligence to your physical needs, you figured it was easier to have your hair down most of the time, having no energy to do it yourself when she gave you a break from her torturous pursuits. Your hair had gotten longer during your time away from each other, inches longer than it previously was. It framed your face beautifully Lo’ak thought, smiling at you.

But before either of you could run to each other and embrace, a soldier had begun to stir and get up, a gun clutched in his grasp.

Lo’ak whipped his head towards the noise, bringing up the gun in his right hand up without thinking, finger squeezing the trigger as multiple rounds of bullets penetrated the human in front of him. The man slumped back, falling dead to the floor.

The air then became tense, the moment processing in everyone’s head for a second. Then, Neteyam had gently grabbed Lo’ak’s forearm and urged him forward, walking backwards as Spider pushed you in front of him, following the Na’vi boy.

The two boys in front of you had effortlessly jumped down from the top of the stairs to the ground below, swiftly standing up from their crouch afterwards. Sensing your hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his free arm around your waist and followed after his brother and Spider, holding you close to his side as he jumped down from the height. He only let go of your waist once you regained your bearings.

“Hello, ma sìlpeytsyìp,” Lo’ak whispers, free hand going up to your bare neck, softly grazing his thumb against the delicate skin.

“Hello, Lo’ak,” you whisper back, a smile on your face as you gazed at your lover. Oh how you wished you didn’t need this stupid mask so you could capture his lips with yours.

You missed the boy in front of you so much. It was hard to endure all those months away from each other. He consumed every single thought you had. So to have him in front of you, alive and breathing and not a figment of your imagination, made you want to crawl into his large arms and stay there forever.

Your small moment was interrupted by Spider, him exclaiming a thank you so much man as he turned towards the Na’vi teens.

Lo’ak had tore his eyes away from yours, staring at Spider as he thanked him and Neteyam for saving both of your asses back there. The blue boy smiled at his friend, going to express his welcome but his smile dropped as he saw the same Avatar soldiers from that night come into view, aiming their guns towards the group of teens.

As Lo’ak perked up to shoot at the familiar fake Avatars, Neteyam pulled him back just as quickly, ushering him and the lot of you to run and dodge the bullets as they fired and ricocheted off the railings and other obstacles between you and them.

“Go! Go!” Neteyam exclaimed, pushing the three of you towards a corner by the moonpool, snatching Lo’ak’s gun with a give me that!.

The older Na’vi began to shoot back at the soldiers shooting at you four, shouting at all of you to hurry and jump into the water beneath the opening in front of you. Before you could process Neteyam’s words, Lo’ak took you into his arms and rushed towards the moonpool, jumping over the railing and into the water. Cool water splashed against your body and sealed mask, making you involuntarily hold your breath as a reflex.

Upon breaching the surface, you exhaled the air you held, realizing that there was no need for you to hold it.

“That was insane cuz!” Lo’ak exclaimed, high-fiving Spider as he hollered back an excited hell yeah!. His arm around you had slipped from its grasp in order to hand out the high-five he gave Spider.

The three of you just narrowly escaped death and Lo’ak was hollering in delight from the adrenaline rush. Well, you thought, at least the sea didn’t change that about him.

The hairs on your skin stood on end once you heard the gurgle of Neteyam’s first gasp of breath after following you and the boys, diving into the water. Your body instinctively knew that something bad was bound to happen and you could only pray to Eywa that this wasn’t happening.

Everyone’s world stopped on its axis once Neteyam announced that he’d been shot, struggling to keep himself upright in the water. It was as if his own acknowledgment of being shot stripped him of his refined swimming skills, limbs not being able to keep up with the blood loss and shock of the event.

You were the first one by the boys side after the words fell from his lips, trying to help keep him afloat in the water. “It’s okay, Teyam,” you whispered, head barely above the water's surface as you kept the boy upright, “You’ll be okay.”.

You knew that your words were only empty promises. That realistically, Neteyam wasn’t going to make it. No amount of comforting whispers were going to cover up that fact or bring the boy some kind of solace from death's icy grip.

“Here! Get him up on here,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, drawing your attention from Neteyam to the owner.

A beautiful Na’vi girl had broke the surface of the water with a strange creature by her side. She gestured for you and the rest to get Neteyam up onto the animal so you could transport him somewhere where he could be helped.

The strange girls eyes fell on you, making your stomach drop and breath hitch in your throat. She must be of the clan that harbored the Sully family, you thought to yourself as you studied her much lighter blue skin and enchanting ocean blue eyes. Really pretty too.

“C’mon bro,” Lo’ak stuttered out, taking Neteyam out from your grip and into his, swimming towards the girl and her creature.

Spider had pulled you out from your stupor, tugging on your hand as he swam the both of you towards the group, grabbing the side of the creatures saddle as it readied itself to surge forward in the water. The boys hand had let go of your hand and went to grab your waist, pulling you flush to his side in preparation for the resistance of the water once the creature got the okay to take off. Your own hands wrapped themselves around Spider’s neck, muscles in your arms tightening in preparation as well.

Once Lo’ak situated Neteyam onto the creature behind him, he urged the animal to go forward through the bond, it hurriedly gliding through the water as it pushed against the current and new added weight on all sides.

You knew that once the five of you left the scene and headed towards somewhere else, everything was going to change. That it was all downhill from here.

———

Your hands were caked in blood. In Neteyam’s blood.

The red substance ran up your wrists and stopped at your mid forearm. The skin that was covered in it felt like it was on fire. It burned.

Your small hands that were desperately trying to slow down the blood pouring out of the boys chest were replaced by Lo’ak’s, his bigger body pushing you out of the way once Jake noticed your useless efforts and demanded his second son to replace your hands with his.

Tears spewed out from your waterline, falling down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. Your throat burned from your suppression of sobs, desperately trying to escape from your sealed lips. You didn’t feel worthy crying and sobbing over the fatally injured boy in front of you. It was your fault he was shot. Indirectly or not, if Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t come back for you and Spider, then he’d be fine and not bleeding out in front of his family. He wouldn't be laid dying in front of you.

You felt familiar, calloused hands wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing your body into their own.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Spider lowly whispered, bringing your face into his neck as you let out a quiet sob, leaning into his embrace. He knew that you were on the brink of breaking down and knew that you were keeping it in so as to not disturb the Sully family in their growing mourning. He saw the way Lo’ak pushed his way between you and Neteyam’s dying body, replacing your hands with his own against his brothers open chest. He knew that no one else around you would comfort you in the way that you needed, so he scurried to your side and brought you into his arms for the comfort that you craved.

You’ve never seen someone die. You’ve never seen someone die right in front of you. Your brain was scrambling to gather itself and process what was happening. But it was as if your brain couldn’t gather all the working pieces it needed and abandoned you in your own body, leaving you to pick up the pieces yourself and try to process what was happening.

Your body began to shiver as shock and adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your quiet sobs even harder to contain and actually keep silent.

The minute your ears picked up on Neytiri’s high pitched wails and screams, you knew that Neteyam had taken his last breath and finally joined Eywa in his afterlife. From that moment on, everything went by in a flash.

Neytiri, Jake, and Spider had left back towards the ship for a reason your ears didn’t pick up on, still ringing in the aftershocks of Neytiri’s screams. The Na’vi woman left on her ikran, it screeching as she made tshaleyu. The both of them took off in a blur from the speed of the animals ascent. Spider left you with a gentle kiss on the forehead and a promise that he’ll come back, smoothing down your damp hair before following after Jake. And Lo’ak. He only spared you a small glance before telling the reef Na’vi girl to stay with Neteyam’s body, gently patting her cheek before he hurried off to follow his Father and Spider.

Even though your mind struggled to process and piece together what just happened, it was still able to process the soft touch Lo’ak bestowed upon the girl in front of you and the sympathetic look he gave her before he left. How she reached out for him as he walked away and the look on her face as she watched. Oh.

Your heart broke at the realization. Lo’ak finally found someone that was suitable for him. Someone that was able to give him the future he deserved. Someone that was able to give him everything you couldn’t. And more tears fell from your eyes, heart crying out at the heartbreak.

Neytiri was right. You should’ve stayed with your own kind.

———

You didn’t stay long for Neteyam’s funeral. As soon as it ended, you treaded your way out of the water and walked somewhere secluded.

It was too much being there. It was hard watching Jake and Neytiri place their eldest son down onto the orange glowing tendrils. It was hard watching him be absorbed by them, disappearing into the glowing mass. Guilt riddled your consciousness, yelling at you that you shouldn’t be there. That it was your fault that he was with Eywa now. That you took away Jake and Neytiri’s firstborn son from their grasp too soon. You felt that your presence itself was a reminder as to why Neteyam was no longer breathing.

So, you sat yourself in a secluded area on the small island, situating yourself between the large rocks that perfectly hid your smaller frame. You didn’t want anyone disturbing you, especially Lo’ak. You didn’t think you’d be able to face him again after tonight.

“You suck at sneaking away, you know that right?” A soft voice spoke out, making you jump in response from its abrupt reveal. You had been sitting in silence for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted.

Turning your head, you saw Kiri standing there, face still painted in the white substance her Mother lathered onto her face before attending her elder brother's funeral. She held a small smile in your presence, leaning down to properly sit by your side.

You only hum and nod your head in response, turning your gaze back towards the lapping waves against the soft sand of the shoreline. You felt unworthy of the girl's presence. Like you shouldn’t stare at her for too long or else Eywa would strike you down with lightning for it. Unworthy of still being her friend even after what had occurred hours prior.

“I do not blame you, (Y/N),” she spoke up, large amber eyes glued to the side of your face. “None of us do. It was not your doing for what happened that night. You were not the one with the gun,” she continued, her blue five-fingered hand coming to rest up against your shoulder in comfort.

Growing up, Kiri always knew what you were feeling by just seeing the expression on your face. It was a bit weird growing up. She knew what you felt even before you could process it yourself. But, oftentimes, you were grateful for someone like Kiri. For someone who knew you so deeply that they didn’t need words to confirm how you felt. She just knew.

Kiri did truly mean the words she spoke. She did not think that Neteyam’s death was yours nor Spiders' doing. You two were just kids who were taken hostage and desperately needed saving. You are just kids. Your whole lives were a cause of an unfortunate event but that doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens to her family and to the other natives of Pandora were solely you and Spider's fault. The two of you shouldn’t carry that heavy burden.

“But, if Lo’ak and Neteyam didn’t come after us – ” you sputtered, tears already welling in your waterline as your throat began to tighten with emotion.

The Na’vi girl knew where you were coming from. What your thought process was and how you felt. A perk of being one of your good friends she supposed.

“But nothing, (Y/N),” she cut you off, voice firm and absolute. There was no way you were going to change her mind about the situation at hand. It wasn’t your fault. Period.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak chose to come after you and Spider. They both knew of the consequences that came with following after you. No one except Quaritch and his men are to blame,” she said with finality, not needing you to further intrude on what she said. No matter how hard you’d try to convince her that it was your fault, she wouldn’t believe you. Her mind had already been made up and you weren’t the one to blame.

Only more tears began to gather and spill from your eyes at your friend's words. It was nice to hear that she, and most likely everyone else, didn’t blame you for what happened. But it didn’t help ease the guilt you felt. Nothing could aid in the guilt you felt deep within. Perhaps with time it would go away, but even then, you highly doubted that.

“Lo’ak still loves you if that is what’s causing this worry,” Kiri whispered out, only loud enough for you to hear just in case anyone else was wandering around.

During their stay at Awa’atlu, Kiri could tell that your absence had deeply disturbed her younger brother. It was evident in everything he did. Lo’ak always had a frown on his face and found excuses to pick fights with Ao’nung and his gang of friends. It was like he didn’t have a reason to behave accordingly or live anymore. Like his sense of self was lost when you were taken by Quaritch and his soldiers. He desperately missed you and she could tell that the only thing he wanted to do was get you back and have you in his arms once again.

Your stomach turned in knots and your heart stopped at Kiri’s comment. Did he really? What about the girl that helped you that night?

“I – I’m not too sure about that. What about the girl?” You asked, face damp with tears. You saw how Lo’ak treated her that night. How he gently put his hand on her cheek and how she reached out for him with a call of his name before leaving the both of you on that rock with Neteyam’s body. How he barely spared you a glance before leaving.

You were confident that he had finally found the one the Great Mother had destined him to be with. You knew that your time together was limited, the clock starting the minute you confessed your feelings to the teen boy. It broke your heart seeing him act that way with her but you knew that he’d eventually come to his senses about you and want to pursue a Na’vi who could actually give him the future he deserved. If anything, you were pleased that he found someone like him. He would no longer be held back by you.

“What? What girl? What are you talking about?” Kiri asked, shock and concern laced within her voice. She knew that Lo’ak was too in love with you to look at anyone else the way he looked at you. So your words confused her immensely. Why did you think he no longer saw you?

The blue girl ransacked her brain for the girl you were insinuating Lo’ak was into. She kept drawing blanks, until her mind settled onto the one person that was a great comfort to Lo’ak during their stay.

“You mean Tsireya?” She asked, a barely audible giggle coming out of her mouth.

To be frank, Kiri found the situation a little funny. Lo’ak was such a lovesick puppy for you that he often refused to talk to anyone who wasn’t you. He continuously asked about you before the two of you got together, always bothering Kiri as she made her way back from the lab. He also handmade many jewelry pieces for you, even if he sucked at it and needed Tuk’s help. Why would you think his affections would change that fast?

“She’s pretty,” you hum, eyes still glued on the moving waves in the distance. Really pretty. “She’s good for him, Ri. She’d be able to give him the future he deserves. Plus, Neytiri would actually like her. It was never in the cards for us,” you finished, voice now eerily calm and void of the sadness you expressed earlier.

Kiri’s mouth fell agape at your words, eyes widening to the size of yovo fruit. What the fuck?

“(Y/N), you cannot mean that. Tsireya and Lo’ak are only friends. That’s all,” she began, trying her best to save you from your overwhelming thoughts before they consumed you whole. “He still loves you. Please believe that,” she pleaded.

You finally tore your gaze from the water and up towards the glowing amber orbs of your friend. “He left me there, Kiri. All alone with no goodbye. Barely even glanced my way before he followed after Spider and Jake,” you confessed, heart breaking all over again at the memory. It was hours before they all returned to the rock. Spider was the only one to comfort you as Lo’ak was too busy with Tsireya. The rest of the family barely even spared you a glance as they pulled each other into an embrace.

Oh, Kiri thought, ears pinning to the sides of her head. Did she interpret Lo’ak and Tsireya’s body language wrong? Were they more than friends?

Neither of you uttered another word, sitting peacefully side by side as the two of you listened to the soothing sound of the lapping waves against the shore. A war was occurring within your head and walls were built to protect you from the oncoming grenades you were sure would be thrown at you by your lover once he confessed that he was no longer in love with you. If you could even call him yours anymore.

From afar, the subject of your conversation was watching the two of you converse. He so desperately wanted to run to you and gather you into his arms and keep you there forever. But, he knew that you were no longer his. He saw how Spider treated you so gently. How he placed a kiss on the crown of your head before scurrying away to lead Jake to the ship. How he was the first one to comfort you when they arrived, beating him in embracing you and soothing you as you sobbed against his bleeding chest. And even though his heart was breaking at the possibility of you no longer loving him, he only wanted you to be happy and if that was with Spider, then he’d let you go.

———

Days had passed since your conversation with Kiri. She had never left your side since, wanting to be there for you as you navigated your grief and heartbreak. Your words still stunned the poor girl. She was sure that you were wrong but she would admit that it was awfully suspicious the amount of times she saw Lo’ak and Tsireya together. And always seeing them together, especially after you pointed it out, didn’t help. Kiri was so sure of her brothers love for you that she nearly laughed in your face once those words left your mouth. But, she too began to doubt the affections her younger brother held for you.

Kiri often spent most of her time around you, but during the times she wasn’t able to, Tuktirey had no problem keeping you company.

“No! You’re doing it wrong,” Tuk exclaimed, groaning over your lack of weaving skills.

The young girl had been attempting to teach you the new way of weaving she had learned during her time on the island. She was so excited to show you what she had learned over the months that she nearly crushed your smaller, human body in a tight hug upon hearing your agreement. The young girl profusely apologized when she heard your panicked wheeze against her collarbone, quickly getting to work after.

“I’m sorry, TukTuk. Weaving’s never really been my thing,” you apologize, gently smiling at the child next to you. She was so excited to show you how to weave the Metkayina way, her eyes practically glowed in excitement once you agreed.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I struggled with it too for some time. It just takes practice,” she responded, a large gummy smile directed your way. “Plus, that just means I can make you more!” She added, trying to lift up your dampened mood.

It seemed as if everything bothered you these days. Like everything was a reminder as to why you’d never be good enough for the secondborn Omatikaya prince. A reminder of the things you couldn’t give Lo’ak. Of the things you couldn’t do to please your mate. Weaving was a huge part of the Omatikaya culture, allowing one to express their gratitude and affection towards their intended. Something that you lacked severe skill in. Sure you could make a few bracelets here and there but it was nothing compared to those of the native Omatikaya who put so much effort into their weaving, going as far as making their own unique weave pattern for their beloved. Even though you wanted to refuse Tuktirey’s plea, for it was another painful reminder that you could never have Lo’ak, you still accepted it and endured the emotional turmoil you experienced. You wouldn’t allow your own feelings to stump Tuk’s happiness and eagerness to share with you something new she learned.

“You can make me as many as you want, Tuk,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips as you gently patted her head, ruffling her hair in the process. The young girl shrieked at your action, pushing your hand away from her freshly braided hair, giggling afterwards.

You desperately missed moments like these during your captivity. You missed playing around with the Sully children and hearing Tuk’s high pitched giggle as she ran away from your hands as you reached out to tickle her. You missed Kiri’s wise words as she spoke about whatever came to mind. You missed Lo’ak’s comforting embrace as he enveloped you into his arms whenever you needed it. You missed Neteyam’s kind nature, helping you out whenever you found yourself falling behind. You’d always miss Neteyam, his absence another reminder as to why you would never be enough for the one you loved.

A loud cough from the doorway of the marui pod broke you and Tuk out of your giggling fit, both of you whipping your heads to the figure standing in front of the opening. Your heart dropped at who was in front of you.

“Mom!” Tuktirey squealed, jumping up to her feet and towards her sa’nok.

You could tell that Neytiri wasn’t excited about your presence, her hardened glare never leaving your face even as she bent down to embrace her youngest child. Over the course of the days following Neteyam’s funeral, Neytiri was colder towards you and Spider. She rarely ever let her children see you and often fought with Jake on this matter. She always argued about the same thing. How you and Spider weren’t good for her children. How the both of you deserved to be with your people. How you bring nothing but pain to this family. That if Jake never took the both of you in, they wouldn’t be in the position. You heard most of what she was yelling about almost every night, your shared guilt with Spider growing evermore.

“I…uh…I think I should get going Tuk. I just remembered that Kiri wanted to show me around somewhere,” you awkwardly said, smiling at the young girl before quickly heading out, barely giving her enough time to say her goodbyes to you.

You sped walk out from the Sully’s pod and onto the soft sand of Awa’atlu. You knew that you were no longer welcomed in Neytiri’s presence and you respected her wishes by excusing yourself and making your way out. It was the least you could do considering all that she went through.

Hours passed by with you sitting in the same place Kiri found you days prior, just thinking. Something that you found yourself doing way too often. It was hard to get out of your head and even harder for others to help you out of it. Most days, Spider wasn’t even able to help you with your problem and he almost always was able to save you from your own mind. Today was no exception regarding getting yourself stuck in your head and going around in circles.

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked, effectively pulling you out from your stupor.

Your eyes shifted from where they were glued to onto the person standing next to you, making your whole body tense and stomach churn in anxiety. Tsireya.

The light blue Na’vi girl stood in front of you with a look of concern etched on her face. Her skin was covered in a thin line of droplets, a clear sign she had just came back from a swim. You wondered if she felt bad for you and approached you out of pity. If Lo’ak had told her about your past together and if she was approaching you to inform you about their new union. If she was here to tell you about what her and the other Metkayina thought of you, preparing yourself for harsh insults and words.

“Are you okay?” She asks, sitting on her knees as she leaned forward a bit, big blue eyes practically staring into your soul.

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You were usually very careful in how your body reacted whenever you got stuck in thought. Always giving yourself time to release the tension in your body and relax before returning back to the thought you put on pause. So you were very confused as to why Tsireya was concerned with if you were okay or not.

“You just…seemed lost in thought.” She says, hands gently folding together in her lap. “I’ve noticed that your hair,” she points to your eyebrows, “come together when you’re thinking. Lo’ak does the same thing.”.

Your heart sped up at the mention of Lo’ak’s name, only for it to drop again once you realize who’s talking to you. Keep yourself in check (Y/N), you thought to yourself, you’re in the prescence of Lo’ak’s mate. Of course she knows things like that about him. You shouldn’t act like this.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine!” You reply, a half assed smile creeping up on your lips, not quite reaching your eyes like it usually does. There was no way in hell that you’d tell Tsireya what was going on inside your head. That wasn’t a burden she needed on her shoulders.

The girl didn’t look too convinced at your response but didn’t push it further. She only nodded and continued to look at you, big eyes studying your human features. Tsireya had rarely seen you around and when she did, it was very brief before you disappeared out of sight again. So she couldn’t help but look at you as you sat there. You were very pretty, she noted. No wonder Lo’ak fell so helplessly in love with her, she thought. Your beauty was something Tsireya had never seen before.

“Tsireya!” A gruff and deep voice shouted, catching the girls attention as she turned her back towards the voice. It was her Father.

“Oh. I’m sorry (Y/N), but I have to go. I do hope you feel better soon,” she quickly said before walking away, her tail swinging gently from side to side as she strides away.

The whole encounter you had with the girl made you even more confused and sad. She was so nice to you. She gave you no reason to hate her. But you couldn’t help but feel it as she left you there, longing for the life you could never have.

———

“You’re being so sulky,” Spider murmured, arms crossed as he watched you stare at your food in front of you.

Norm and Max had cooked dinner nearly two hours ago and you were the only one who hadn’t finished your plate. You didn’t have much of an appetite these days either. You were too occupied with thinking or trying to avoid Lo’ak at all costs to properly eat. You knew it wasn’t something you should be doing but you found yourself doing it anyway.

“You haven’t even talked to him! You don’t know if it’s true or not,” he continued, sick of seeing both you and Lo’ak moping around and avoiding each other at every turn. He’s told the both of you multiple times to just talk about it but the both of you were too stubborn for your own good.

You ignored Spider’s comment, rolling your eyes at the boy besides you. You really didn’t need him meddling in your business.

Your silence was Spider’s last straw as he slammed his hands against the metal table, surprising you and making you jump back at the action. Your plate shifted and jumped in its place, the fork clattering onto the floor.

“Fine. If neither of you want to talk this out on your own, then I’ll do it for you,” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and hauling you up from yours by your arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You screamed, trying to pry Spider’s fingers off of your bicep.

He only scoffed at your response and shook his head, leading you to the entrance of the lab that sat in the secluded parts of the island, tossing you a mask before shoving you out of the metal lab and out into the Pandora air.

Shortly after the events with Quaritch and the tulkun hunters, Norm and Max had decided that it would be best if they put one of their smaller labs on Awa’atlu for the two of you. It was definitely smaller than the lab you lived in at High Camp, but you didn’t complain. At least you had somewhere to go and hide whenever you didn’t want to see Lo’ak that particular day.

“You fucker!” You shouted, banging the flat of your palm up against the glass of the door. Spider only ignored your calls from the inside, eating your untouched food. You groaned in frustration as you watched the boy simply devour your cold food.

Rustling of leaves were heard from your right, making your heart stop in its confines in anxiety. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly turned your head to see who or what caused the noise, especially this late at night. Your stomach dropped to the floor once you saw those familiar amber eyes peek out from behind a shrub.

“Lo’ak?” You whispered, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Upon hearing your voice, the culprit perked up, completely revealing themselves to you.

“Yawne?” He asked, unsure if he should move closer to you or stay where he was. Lo’ak had been craving to be in your presence ever since his brothers funeral. He only wanted you in his arms again and even though he had you back, he didn’t completely have you.

The two of you stood there, in front of each other for a while, neither of you daring to move closer or speak up first.

It was strange to see you after not having seen you for months. You looked the same but didn’t at the same time. Lo’ak didn’t know how he didn’t notice the first time he saw you on that ship. You looked more mature. Like you had seen or experienced something you shouldn’t have.

“How are you?” Lo’ak asks, finally breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.

You internally scoffed at that question, shaking your head as you did so. Yeah, I’m totally fine. Leaving me with your dead brother for hours didn’t do anything to me at all.

“Fine,” you answer, beginning to try to open the lab door with all your might, shaking the lock. Spider must’ve locked it from the inside or something, you thought, promising yourself that you would choke the boy out once you got back into the lab.

Lo’ak flinched at your rough voice and repetitive shaking of the door, ears drawing downwards as he watched. He’s never seen you act so violent before. Never seen you so desperate to get back into the lab. Usually, back in the forest, you’d do anything and everything to stay out of the lab for as long as you could. So to see you act the opposite made Lo’ak frown, especially since it was because he was out with you.

“Yawne,” Lo’ak tried again, taking a step closer to you before quickly drawing back as you scowled at him to stay where he was. “What is wrong? Talk to me, please,” the boy pleaded, tail falling limp between his legs.

“I told you. Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” you replied, eyes never leaving the stupid handle of the door you were trying to pry open.

Lo’ak knew you were lying. Something was most definitely wrong. He could see it in your eyes. How badly you wanted to share whatever was bothering you but something withheld you from uttering the words. It made him ever the more desperate to get you to talk to him.

The boy knew that showing up at the lab unannounced wasn’t going to get you to talk to him, especially since he too was also ignoring your existence. That he’d have to try harder in order to get you to speak with him.

“Yawne –”.

“Stop! Stop calling me that! I am not your yawne!” You shouted, ceasing your prying of the locked metal door. Hearing that term come out of his mouth made you want to cry. It made you want to scream, kick, and hit him for calling you that when you knew that he called another it. He had Tsireya to be his yawne. That was no longer a title you held.

Confusion and hurt spread itself across Lo’ak’s face, brows furrowing together in confusion. What did you mean? Why were you no longer his beloved?

“Why? Why not?” He shouted back, anger quickly arising within the teen boy. “What have I done to make you angry with me?” He asked, ears drawing further downward and pressing harder against the side of his skull.

You wanted to pull at your hair in frustration and anger. You just wanted to go inside and pass out before having to face the Sully family again. You wanted Lo’ak to leave you alone in your heartbreak. To stop haunting your dreams. To stop reminding you of the life you longed to have with him.

“Nothing and everything, Lo’ak!” You screamed, finally fed up, “You have done nothing and yet have done everything to upset me. First, you leave me with Neteyam for hours. You left me alone with the body of someone who I loved. You left me alone in my grieving. I had to wash away the blood and grime from his body as you did what? Fight Quaritch? Get Spider nearly killed? Then…then you touched her so lovingly. So gently. When you barely even spared me a glance. You comforted her and hugged her so tight to yourself that I couldn’t tell where you started and she ended.”.

“I only wanted you to comfort me. To hold me as I cried. But you were too busy with her. And I understand, Lo’ak. I do. As much as it pains me to realize and say it. I know that you and Tsireya are together, a thing. It’s as obvious as the mask that I need. And it’s okay. Really. I knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to last. I am human and you deserve so much more than what I can give you. I cannot give you children, make the bond with you, or even be properly considered one of the People. You deserve someone who could give you that. Give you everything and more. I mean, Tsireya is Tsakarem for crying out loud! She is much more suited to be your mate than I am, Lo’ak.”.

By the time you were finished with your speech, your chest was rising up and down dramatically, trying to gulp down air as quickly as the mask would let you. You knew that once you expressed your feelings and how you felt, it would change everything. So in order to ignore Lo’ak’s intense gaze and to prevent yourself from succumbing to the need to cry, you began your attempts at trying to open up the locked door or at least trying to get someone’s attention so they’d save you.

Your hands began to hit the door again, switching to messing with the door handle after a couple of beats pass with no one coming to your rescue.

“I confessed.” Lo’ak blurted out, desperation covered his face. His ears were fully up in alert, twitching at the sound of your hands stopping against the hard metal of the lab.

You stopped your movements, standing on the stairs of the lab in shock, trying to process the words that just came out of the boy's mouth. Confessed? What did he mean by confessed?

He needed you to know that what you were saying wasn’t true. That he wasn’t seeing Tsireya and that he’ll never see her in that light as he sees you. That his heart only held love for you and no one else. That your entire being consumed him heart, body, and soul.

“I told my Mother about us. About our relationship. About how much I love you. About how much I adore and see you. About that night at the Tree of Souls. I told her everything,” he rambled, tears clinging to his waterline as he tried to hurriedly blink them away. “She wasn’t happy about it, obviously. But, I didn’t care. I still don’t. Tsireya and I have never and will never be a thing. My heart only beats for you. My lungs only breathe for you. My body and soul only long for you. Everything is only ever for you, ma yawne. I hold so much love for you that it hurts. Did you know that the afternoon I heard of a young boy and girl being held captive at the Ta’unui clan, I almost immediately took off on my ilu to get you back? That I fought with my Sa’nok over you? That’s when I told her. Everyone heard and I don’t care that they did. I would scream out my love for you on the highest floating mountain if you asked me to. I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). Please, please believe that.”.

Lo’ak took in deep breaths once he finished his speech, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air after depriving them of it. He hoped that what he said was enough to get you to see how he felt about you, how he still felt about you. And if you didn’t, then he’d try again and again and again until he ran out of air to breathe. He needed you in his life. He didn’t care that you couldn’t bare him children or make tshaleyu with him. All he needed was you and that would be enough for all of his lifetimes.

“Lo’ak,” you croaked out, hot tears running down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. You had no idea that he felt that strongly for you. Sure he mentioned some things from time to time but he never seemed this serious about it. You could feel the emotions of his words as they hit you square in the face.

“I don’t care if you can’t carry my children or that you can’t make the bond with me. I don’t. I only care that you’re in my life and that you love me just as much. You have been such a big part of my life for so long that I can’t imagine you not in it. Nga yawne lu oer,” Lo’ak finally finishes, kneeling on his two knees to get to your height, gently taking your softer hands in his rougher one’s.

All of the doubts you had about yourself and the relationship you had with the boy in front of you vanished the moment he touched you. Like everything else disappeared and it was only you two in the world.

“I am so sorry if it seemed like I had any interest in Tsireya, my love,” Lo’ak whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips as he pecked them with a kiss, “To be honest, I thought Spider and you were a thing as well.”.

At his confession, you bursted out laughing, not being able to hold in your reaction to the ridiculous thought.

“I know, I know,” Lo’ak tsked, shaking his head, “I had asked Spider about it and he had the same exact reaction. He wouldn’t shut up about it either, telling me how ridiculous I was for thinking such a thing. As well as how much of an idiot I was too.”.

“Well,” you hummed, taking your hands out of your boyfriends and placed them onto his blue cheeks, “I guess we’re both idiots then.”.

Lo’ak chuckled at your response, shaking his head as he finally brought you into his arms, immediately burying his head into the crook of your neck as he got a sniff of your dearly missed scent. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he held you close, almost completely enveloping you in his body.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you speak up, fingers running through Lo’ak’s braids. You felt bad for immediately assuming Lo’ak would move on that fast and get with Tsireya. You knew it wasn’t something he’d do but your overwhelming insecurities took over.

The Na’vi boy only hums, burying his head farther into your neck. “It’s okay,” he said, “I did the same. Nothing to stress about now. I got you back and that’s all that matters”.

The two of you sat there for what felt like only minutes but was hours in reality. The sun had begun to poke through the horizon, sunrise vastly approaching.

“Wanna go inside? We could spend the morning sleeping and cuddling if you want,” you suggest, eyelids getting droopy as your lack of last nights sleep began to catch up with you. You shifted your head so it laid on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yawning as you did so.

Your lover only nodded in agreement, delicately moving into the small lab and removing your mask from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead as you began to snore in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled down at you before making his way to your established room, content with how the night turned out.

As he gently laid you in the soft bed and tucked the both of you in, he knew that he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with you so as long as you pleased. That there was no one else but you that he truly saw himself with. The teen would do anything for you, no matter what it entailed.

[thisdogpaystaxes]

sad out of nowhere today folks :) not really feeling well at all actually like i'm trying to nott lose it because i'm just fuking up so badly at everything in my life right now

i feel like every relationship i have is rocky and going to fall through rn well not every but i have like 3 that im jsut like so nauseous about because im convinced 2 hate me and 1 is so good but im nervous and yeah

so that's just really on my mind right now because im around them 24/7 and it's just such strong emotions and ughhhhhhh every thing is juice.

and like i just don't think im doing well at my job i don't think im learning or trying hard enough and i feel dumb as fuck because i don't have adderall and it's jsut really hard for me now bc like i randomly got adhd at 20.

but also idk if ifs adhd i think i am deteriorating physically and mentally at an alarming rate liek my motor skills just aren't what they used to be n i've been dumb. and i think everyone thinks im like so fucking dumbbbbbb and i'm like guys no i know stuff i jusssst am silly.

which also makes me sad because i know shit about psychology and i love it and i'm just fucking up with school. i am fucking upppp i struggleeee to focus on shif

and it's hard not having a car because i can't do shit. i feel restricted but i knwo ppl will give me rides i just feel horrible asking!!!!! but i literally do it for ppl like i did it for someone once who i was mutuals with for like 5 years it was crazy.

i don't think i deserve a lot of good things in my life for some reason. i am distressed as fuck and every little thing makes me melt down because i literally just can't handle anything i need something off my plate.

so i jsut took one off i'm trying to pay my school balance rn. i fucking deserve it i'm so passionate man i want to help people think clearly like we all deserve to just be heard and felt and cared for. situations are so hard, especially with extraneous variables like illness, like baby let's do this together. ur not alone.

mmmmm like i want my career so badly and i don't think a single person on earth believes in me

one of the complicated people just came in and was baby as hellll, they were divinely timed as always too because they came in and distracted me right before a mental breakdown

but i think i need the mental breakdown like i think i need to release something because i feel horrible soooo everyone leave me alone vibe

i'm really scared that i'm not learning shit for my new position like today i felt like such a fucking idiot and i don't even know if i'm sensitive but my boss is usually really hands on and good to me but today they were partnered with another boss man and they were really weird. like they made me look for the resources on my own instead of helping me and they were just waiting there and i felt dumb as shit because I DONT KNOW WHY WOULD I KNOW. like please show me. and then i asked them to help and they have like hints and it felt bad bc i was like okkkkkk like guys i feel dumb like i sisd thst out loud

and like after that we had girl time and it felt good to be friends and liek i look up to how talented they are as managers like truly i need their life balance so badly and i am trying to learn their ways idk. but like that just felt bad :/

which i get it, they are separating professional and personal, but that was just like weird. like no i feel bad. and i should've just said something so i will next time because how are they supposed to know if i'm not voicing it.

but then there's the dynamic of 'do i voice it because i'm trying to learn and get on their level' or 'should they ask because they want me to be comfortable' and i just never know with this damn company. i'm a vulnerable girl so i'll be really sweet and kind the next few days and not be mean. it's a playful thing of mine. but also if i extra love everyone around me while i'm feeling horrible, i'll get extra love back

i will be a nice girl for the next week

i'd like a new set of hips, a new car, a new brain, a new apartment (bugs are ruining my life), a new therapist. so i'll see what i can do. i might suck right now at my job but why be hard on myself. maybe i should take my laptop home this weekend and like.. take a peeeeeek.... and get my life together. i should take initiative on this because i am determined to be good.

thanks for being here for my provlem solving tumvlr i love gou