#and before anyone goes hE’s tOo OLd listen to me carefully

[starbase-yorktown]

salty that toby stephens will not be destruction of the endless tbh

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

CAT-EYES

PAIRING: Runaway Groom!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Thief!Reader

SYNOPSIS: What begins as a normal day of stalking the back road for wealthy carriages, turns into a walking nightmare spanning three days. Who is this finely-dressed man stumbling about your woods?

WORDCOUNT: 13.3k

WARNINGS: Blood, injury, light gore, pining, intense banter, sarcasm, insults, kind of enemies-to-lovers but eh, angst, protective!John, light hurt/comfort, bittersweet?, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You were sitting in the branches again.

Lightly swinging your legs from over the sides, the rough bark at your spine shifted as you let out a tiny sigh into the chilled air. In your ears, you’re hearing the bugs fly past, and the large hart about fifteen feet away pushing through the undergrowth—built body just barely there as the puff of his hot breath wafts upwards. 

Twirling the arrow between your fingers, your bow sitting carefully in your lap, you close your eyes and listen. 

The years had come and gone and yet you remained here in this small corner of nowhere—resting in this old gnarled oak tree with its branches and leaves giving protection from the elements when nothing else would. Sure, you had a small home to call your own in these very woods, but your windows didn’t give a view of the back road to the East. Barely anyone took it now, and you think you’re partially to blame for it, but, well, perhaps those pesky nobles shouldn’t have been too prone to flashing their coin.

So it was their fault, and on your failing honor, the money always went to a good cause anyway. Who wouldn’t want a poor woman to eat?

But, no. There are rules that every thief follows, no matter how unsavory. You never killed anyone; you never harmed them, either. Just the money—a brandished dagger or an arrow to the side of a carriage wouldn’t hurt anything besides pride, and many of those you stole from had enough to last them multiple lifetimes. 

“Greedy fellows,” you sigh under your breath before you stretch like a cat, arching your spine and spreading your arms high above your head. The few rays of sun you get through the leaves dance across your face, but still, the thick layer of cold air is present all around. 

Shuffling a bit in your shoulder-wrapping, you yawn and fall back once more—licking your lips and thinking of warm stew and fresh bread from the inn down in the town. Shivering, your fingers move to play with your bow, tapping along the bend of wood as the trees are brushed by a soft breeze. The hart below huffs louder still—hooves crushing across the fallen twigs, and you think it’s a bit strange the thing is still here despite your scent clearly in the air, but your eyes are more focused on the road than an animal. 

Until it speaks.

“Hells fuckin’ bells, this damn get-up is going to be the death of me,” the words are barked out quickly—laced with heated anger as a branch is slapped by heavy hands.

Startling, your head snaps below you rapidly; heart jerking inside of your chest so suddenly that you nearly send yourself off the side of your perch. Scrambling for your bow to make sure it doesn’t clatter to the dirt of the Earth, you force down a loud gasp at what you see. 

“Bastard things,” meets your ears as you stare open-eyed at a bulky man as he stumbles out into the small clearing below your tree, looking behind him as he pants. Your jaw goes slack at the extravagant apparel clothing this sudden stranger—a red, black, and blue tartan thrown over his shoulder, pinned with the silver image of a great boar head, and the kilt has more than one bramble stuck into it as it swishes with his turn. 

He has a sporran as well, made of dark furs with three tassels hanging, the metal also silver, as your experienced eyes can tell as they narrow in confusion. 

“What in the hell…” You breathe quietly, leaning just a bit more over the edge of your branch slowly. 

There were black belts and buckles, rich shoes of leather, and your gaze slowly drags to the hanging body of a sword strapped to his waist, swinging as the man rests his feet and looks down at himself with a deep annoyance. There wasn’t an inch of him not coated in dirt, mud, or sweat—all that deer-ish panting and huffing escaping his mouth in condensed clouds. 

“Fuckin’,” he stops himself from continuing the curse, holding up his hands as he glares down at his form. “Jesus, this’ll never come out at this rate.” 

This comment made your lips twitch, eyebrow-raising as your sharp vision filtered from one detail to the next—learning the brown shade of his cut hair and the strange way it’s kept long down the center, and short along the sides. He had a strong build to him, and the boar broach, while it may be something to distinguish a family line as he seemed wealthy, perfectly reflected the individual. 

He was a being of muscle and stubborn willpower. All tusk and bristled fur.

Your eyes linger a bit longer on the silver of that broach—the thing that glints in the light alluringly. You hum under your breath, tilting your head softly. Yet, your impression was made, and your wits are about you as sharply as they always had been.

This was a formal outfit, for a formal occasion. So, why was this important man trampling through the woods where you were set to ambush the next unassuming noble on the road? Why was he looking over his shoulder so tense-like? Your curiosity had piqued the second you’d figured out the rabid crunching from the bushes wasn’t a deer but instead, a wealthy-looking man who wasn’t, you admitted, too hard on the eyes. 

Blinking, you smile, fingers twitching over your bow as the stranger brushes his vest rapidly, growling down at the large mud stains. 

“Lost, then?” Your voice makes him startle, skull whipping forward to the tree trunk until you whistle and lean forward; moving your bow to push away the cover of leaves. “Up here, now,” blue eyes immediately lock with yours and you hum, chuckling, at the moment of shock that shines through. “Poor bastard, look at you and all that mud. You’ve been through hell, mate, eh? By the state of you, I’d say you fought a bear and found yourself at the end of an unfortunate outcome.”

Your words are smooth—nearly sly just as they always are. There’s intent leaking out of every one of them until all that remains is a layered purpose, like that of a butcher peeling away flesh from a hide. You have to process that skin: lay it to a rack to let it dry before it can be stretched to the desired firmness, and, finally, softened.

You took as much pleasure in the mental hunt as you did the payoff. Where there’s money to be earned, there’s also knowledge—you were a thief of all. 

The man watches you with wide eyes, those blues glinting as they blink, glancing around rapidly to check for any others like you that may be hiding. He steps back, a hand brushing his sword, and you think to yourself slowly, he’s smart. 

You breathe down chilled air. Before he responds he checks to make sure it’s not an ambush—the man understands he’s out of his element here. He’s on edge. 

The both of you stare at one another, before your face shifts, brow-raising up on your forehead. 

“What, did I startle you?” Legs looping to hang off the same side, your body feels lighter than a feather as you send yourself over the edge, knees taking the brunt of the force as your head catches up to your stomach—grunting as you hold your bow heavily in one hand. The jostle moves the limbs of your arrows, kept in a quiver at the small of your back. 

Standing fully, you huff and set an easy smile to your lips, all teeth.

“My apologies, Lord.” Your free hand finds your heart, and you bend your spine forward. “I couldn’t help but see you down here below my tree.”

“Best to stay where you are,” the stranger grunts, only giving you enough of a glance to deem you unthreatening, apparently. Your form straightened. He watches you warily on the next go-around, attention always drifting to every snap of a twig off into the trees or the breeze shifting the leaves. “No need to apologize,” is the hurried reply, caught on a rough accent and a hissed gravel huff. “I’ll be on my way once I get my bearings. I don’t have time for conversation—and you should find your way home before long.” Eyes dart. “It isn’t good to be out today...or tonight, I’d say.”

If possible, your intrigue gains strength like a saint in Heaven. 

The man’s square face raves in a clench of his jaw, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Are you sure you’re not lost, Lord?” You continue, undeterred, and shift your bow to sling it over your shoulder. “I live in these woods, I’d have no trouble directing you to the road. It isn’t far.”

“It’s John,” he grunts, glancing over, out of sorts. He was tired—his limbs were shaking with exertion even if he didn’t realize it yet. You think that perhaps if he were more focused, he’d ask why a woman had just landed in front of him from the branch of an Oak; dressed in trousers and a tunic, with just a woolen wrap to keep out the chill. Dirt over her face and a cunning edge to her words. Or, maybe he did know, you wondered, and simply didn’t care at the moment. 

“Just call me Johnny. And,” he shakes his head firmly. “No. Go home to your husband, Bonnie, this doesn’t involve you.” He blinks, staring with a line across his forehead, stubble pulling along his cheeks. “I know this place—there’s a road just to the…” he turns his head to the direction of your trail, blinking at the coverage of thick foliage. “Fuck,” the dark-haired stranger growls, blues sparking up in a feral display of desperate weight. 

You can only see the winding bends if you have a vantage point—that was why you chose your tree in the first place. Your smile grows.

“It’s that way, Lord,” you breathe, pointing in the opposite direction of the road, back to the small path of brambles and bushes that leads closer to your home instead. “We pass my property on the way, I can offer you some drink for your troubles.” A chuckle wafts the air. “You look like you need it.”

There’s a large moment of hesitation, in which you begin to wonder if this prize might be too big to catch, but, then, as there’s a flash of something over John’s face, he grits his teeth and sighs. 

“Aye, fine,” he nods, looking to the side as he lowers his tense shoulders and clears his throat. You’re offered a sincere expression that borders on strained guilt. “Thank you, Dearie. I…” John pauses, frowning. “I hope I didn’t scare you too much when I burst through the trees like that—I’m in a bit of a rush if you can’t tell. I need to make for the shore.”

“My,” you huff, shifting your body and motioning him to follow—he does, setting his feet carefully ahead of him with experienced movements; keeping a respectable distance away. Johnny wasn’t new to the woods, then. He knew where to place his feet, at the very least. “The shore? That sounds exciting.” You conclude, hiding your creased brows as you stare forward. “Making for the South? I’ve heard handfuls are leaving for the weather.”

Looking over your shoulder, you make sure he keeps on your trail as you push through the bushes. “More agreeable, they say. Less rain.”

John chuckles, though he’s still visibly aware of everything around him. He spares you a look, a small smirk taking over his slightly chapped lips. “Keep talkin’ like that, and I just might.”

You’re surprised by the genuine laugh that fights in the back of your throat. Humming under your breath, you shrug it off as simply as a dog does a fly. It was painfully obvious neither of you trusted the other. 

John’s eyes were stuck on the back of your head, and yours were eager to slide back to his form on the off-chance you had to use the dagger strapped to the meat of your thigh, carefully hidden under your trousers and accessible via a cut in your pocket. He was all muscle, and already you know that any attack coming to you would be unwise to try and retaliate—slash and retreat was a much better escape plan. 

You could outrun him.

“So,” your words bleed curiosity, eyes imploring as you glance over your shoulder. “Why are you out in the woods, Johnny? In such a nice outfit as well. Is there something going on around here?” 

The dark-haired man tilts his head your way, sighing long. “A wedding, actually. Horrible thing, if I have to comment on it.” 

Your lips twitch. 

“Oh, aye. I’d heard about it in town not two days ago—something about a marriage of advantage? Who was the unlucky pair, then?”

John clenched his jaw, hand coming up to push at the smear of dried blood on his cheek, which you’d just noticed wasn’t dirt and instead the result of a branch slap. Pale cheeks were wind-bitten. Lungs heavy. You narrow your gaze before stopping the surge of questions in your mouth. 

“Some poor bastard, that’s who,” he responds slowly, mostly under his breath, before blinking. “How much further is the road, Dearie? No offense,” he grunts, staring seriously at you “but I'd rather not be here for much longer.”

The boar broach winks at you.

“Not far,” you smile coyly. “Forgive me, Lord John—”

“Just Johnny—”

 “—But I do hope you’re not a fugitive.” 

Blue eyes widen, sure feet faltering. 

“.... Negative, Bonnie, no, I’m not running from the law. You don’t have to worry about any of that with me,” he breathes, and not once does he look away from you. You have to commend the man, he seemed an honest fellow, and those, you knew, were very rare indeed in your time. “I just need to get out of these woods. You’ll never hear from me again after I’m gone.” He takes a breath, looking past you. “You have my word.”

“Is it worth believing?” You push, smirking. “There’s few dressed like you that I can say it is.”

John licks his lips as you both pass a fallen tree, standing more side by side than previously now that the density of bushes had dispersed. He huffs, sending you a side-eye before he seems to study your face, brows pulling jokingly. 

“I don’t think my answer would make much of a difference, would it?”

You pause, enjoying this man’s company more by the second. “No, it wouldn’t.” The both of you stare, before you grin and pull your sharp gaze away, chuckling. “Follow me,” you motion a hand. “Before you fall into a mud pit and completely ruin what little is left of your outfit that’s sellable—” You fumble, faking a cough as you clear your throat and finish off with tension now in your spine, “Salvageable.”

“If I’m bein’ honest, Bonnie,” Johnny grumbles, either not noticing the mistake or simply not registering it. “I wouldn’t fuckin’ care if it got covered in horse shit.” 

—

You open the door to your home, shifting out of your bow and setting it against the wall with your quiver following to rest beside it as two siblings should.

“You’re lucky,” you hum, “I just went to the well this morning—freshwater is in the basin, cups on the table.”

John’s eyes give a firm once-over, fingers fidgeting above his sword’s hilt. He nods once, moving into the doorway, and immediately goes to where you describe and grabs onto a carved cup, tilting it in his hands. 

“Thank you,” he mutters sincerely, hand dipping into the collection of water. “Eh,” John puffs a laugh, “I’d imagine I would still be stumbling along if it wasn’t for you, little Lady. These woods are larger than I remember them.” 

“You come from around here?” You ask, brushing down your wool wrapping as you pull at the burs in the fiber. “Don’t recall your face in the town, though I’m not there often.”

“Hm,” he takes down the water, and you watch his Adam’s Apple bob as droplets slip from his lips to drop off his chin. Once he had drunk the entire cup, he removed it and wiped at his mouth with his forearm, blue eyes peeking above it. “I…wasn’t in town usually. Not really my place—the forests outside of my property took most of my attention.” He confesses, head tilting as the strange cut of his hair flops along with his skull. “Those, I could run blind.”

“I’m sure,” you puff a laugh.

While the air was somewhat calm, there was still an underlying hesitancy: Johnny didn’t know who you were, and you didn’t know what he was running from. Both were important questions that needed to be answered. Yet, John seemed the casual type.

“Doubt me?” His eyes narrow, a smile brewing. 

“I never said that,” you walk past him, also grabbing a cup before dipping it into the basin. Your finger points. “But it would be interesting to test.” 

“Unfortunately,” John breathes, setting down his cup, “I’m occupied at the moment.”

“A groom would be,” you tilt your head, casually sipping at your drink. “Your wife must be fucking fuming right now.”

The room flips on itself, and the man is instantly frozen. 

Johnny stares, shocked, and you see his feet instinctually ready a stance to either blot to the door, or to take up his sword. His expression is layered with secrecy.

“...What was that?”

“I said your wife must be fucking fuming,” you say louder, slipping your hand into your pocket and shrugging to make it seem meaningless—your dagger’s hilt is smooth under your flesh. “Or did you not finish the ceremony? Betrothed, then, Johnny Boy?” Your eyes glint. “Hell, the event must have been absolutely laced with wealth. Did you have wine imported? New fabrics for your wedding clothes? I’d almost be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“That’s none of your business, Dearie,” he levels, glare heavy and firm while his face is stoic. You can clearly see his body wound up like a wild dog. “I think we’re done here.”

He backs up quickly, legs taking him to the exit until you’re suddenly right behind him, and the man feels the sharp press of a blade into the back of his spine.

Your lips are at his ear, and you chuckle. “Sorry, but we’re not done until anything valuable is in my hands and not on your body.” 

“If you wanted me naked,” he growls, glaring from over his shoulder, as his form is rod-straight. “You could have just asked, Little Thief.”

“I’d call it heavy persuasion,” you chuff. “Sounds better, don’t you think.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Johnny barks, teeth gnashing. “Put the knife down before this gets ugly.”

“I’m not entirely sure I want to,” your answer meets the air. “There’s enough silver and fine fabric on you to feed me for an entire winter, even when the deer move to better grounds.” 

John grits his molars, his neck bent as his fingers twitch at his sides, slipping along to his sword slowly. 

“Money? That’s why you’ve got a bloody blade on me? Christ, my day just keeps getting better and better.” You glare, anger moving behind your eyes. 

“Some people have to work for what they want, you—” Your hand is slapped to the side as John spins, and your dagger is sent along the floor in a loud clatter; a hand finding your upper arm as you gasp, and, suddenly, there’s the chilled edge of a blade at your throat. 

Wide-eyed, you gape at John as the man smirks at you, yet his orbs are infected with annoyance. 

“When you draw a knife on someone, you best know how to use it.” The edge is slightly pressed deeper and your body refuses to move. “You put it at the neck, Cat-Eyes.” John frowns, glaring. “Knew there was something about you—down to the bow and arrows.”

“What,” you growl out, a low embarrassment stemming in your gut as John’s puffs of breath move along your face. Your face burns, and your fingers jerk with anger. “A woman can’t have hobbies?”

“Not when I find ‘em up trees waiting to ambush any bastard that comes by wearing silver.”

“Mate,” you sneer, eyes glimmering. “At this point, you can keep your damn silver. It’s more of a reward to watch you stumble like a fool through the woods five feet from the road.” Johnny’s face tightens, yet there’s little time to fight like children anymore when the sound of breaking branches is echoing off the windows of the house.

Both of your necks whip to the door, yours a great deal more carefully as you’re slightly nicked by the sword's edge, but the drip of blood is voided. High voices carry over the air.

“Find him!”

“His tracks lead through here—get the hounds on it!”

“Here!”

Your brow raises, smirk getting larger as you chuckle under your breath. “Better get on your way quickly, then.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Johnny snarls, all at once ripping his sword from your neck yet keeping his ruthless grip on your upper arm. He looks nervous now—his eyes jumping from one place to another, thinking. “Where’s the damn road, you minx.”

You shrug, eyes sharp. “What road, Lord?”

The strong man rages, eyes burning with a thousand suns as the sword is taken from your neck and re-sheathed in one motion—a second hand staples itself to your waist, gripping tightly. You blink, saliva swallowed down thickly at the dig of heavy fingers into flesh as your heart stutters.

“You’re going to tell me,” John levels, shifting the both of you back as the sounds of fast footsteps are echoed by the bay of dogs. “As much as I would enjoy being away from you in any capacity at all,” you smile humorously to him through his dead-tone monologue, “I need a guide out of these woods and across the land. If you won’t help willingly, I’ll just have to make do.”

You blink, confused. 

“Make do?” Your body is taken up, and you shout as you’re ruthlessly flung over the man’s shoulder with a hiked toss. 

Johnny’s smirk is lost to you, but his chuckle is not as he dashes to the door and slams it open, taking a quick left and looping the house—diving into the foliage as if a fish to water. “Unhand me, you brute!” You scream, clawing and hitting at the man’s back—kicking even, as your knee speedily finds his ribcage. “Ow!” John laughs, his grin highly amused as he turns back to look at you. The shouts from the trees get larger, but that doesn’t help you much as you’re both soon going deeper and deeper into the woods. “Jesus, you have a pair of legs, don’t you?”

“If I were marrying you,” you bark down at him, struggling with all of your might as your home disappears from view. “I’d be running instead of the other way around!” 

“Well,” Johnny calls, his sword bouncing off of his hip. “It’s a good thing you’re not, then, isn’t it, you bonnie little thief? Your husband would be dead and all of his coin in your dirty pockets!”

“Stop calling me a thief!” You send a closed-fisted slap to the top of his head, and he grunts, balking to the side. “Learn how to handle a fucking lady!”

“Lady?” He breathes heavily, shoving into another bush as leaves get tangled in his hair—twigs stuck in yours as you scowl rabidly. “If you’re a lady, Bonnie, then I’ve got a beast waiting for me back at my ceremony.”

—

He stopped when the light of the sun was low, and your constant attack of his spine left an array of large, fist-shaped bruises on his skin.

“Easy,” John grunts, dropping you with a huff to a down-turned stump. 

It isn’t long before you shoot back up, hands clawing for his throat. “Hells Bells!” The man ducks, boyish glint in his eyes as he darts to the side, stepping out of the way as you stumble on tingly legs.

“I’m going to skin you alive,” you yell. “Piece of utter dog shite!”

“Now that’s a bit strong,” John breathes, panting from his mad run for his single life. “Don’t you think?”

You take one step forward, and he takes two back—stuck in a game of cat and mouse. Your eyes are like tiny fires, illuminated with only anger and hatred. 

“Give me one reason why I should even attempt to help you,” your screams rise above the trees, hands splayed as John puts his hands to his knees, taking down breaths as sweat dribbles down his neck into his vest. “You-you,” your tongue fumbles, “kidnapper!”

“Technically, it would be an abduction, Dearie.” You slap him across the face and see the man’s cheeks go red from the blow. Shoving your nose nearly right into his, you sneer. 

“Correct me again, and it’ll be your balls I hit next.”

He swallows, blinking, before he smirks and pairs it with a chuckle as his eyes spark. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You growl as he holds up his hands, moving one to rub at the back of his neck and itch at the shaved portion of his scalp. That damned smirk—you despised it.

“Get me to the closest port,” John settles, getting to business as his expression mellows out. “And I’ll make it worth your while, I give you my word.” 

“What?” You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation the longer the silence falls; realizing how serious the man is. “Oh God in Heaven, this has to be a joke.”

“Anything you ask for, you can have from me when this is over,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his mud-caked shoes. “I don’t need more than the fee to secure a spot on a good ship sailing away from here, and whatever is left I’ll give to you if you want it. You win in this situation, and I’m not trying to hide it from you.”

Your sharp eyes hone in, unwavering in its heat.

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, “I’d even give you my damn socks if that’s what it takes—I need to get out of here. Quickly.” 

You stare, sneering. “Is your betrothed a damn witch or what?”

Blue eyes blink, and his words are firm as they meet air. “Are you taking up my offer or not, Cat-Eyes?”

“Of course, I’m taking the offer!” You bark ruthlessly, rolling your eyes as you kick at the dirt. Rocks and grass fly as darkness settles heavier. “I’m not a fool.”

“Well,” he sighs in relief, looking to the shadows along the ground. “I can’t say you’re that, either, but you are certainly something.” 

You narrow your eyes at Johnny but don’t waste your time any longer as you turn and study what you can see. 

You had grown up here—in this land. The woods knew you just as much as you knew them. Already you could pinpoint a general map of this section based on the large cracked boulder to your right, and the tiny cluster of trees across the way. You knew the way to town, and from there, the port. 

“It’s a three-day walk,” you grumble, side-eyeing the man as he moves to lean against a trunk. He wouldn’t be moving through the night—you didn’t complain on that front either. “You grab at me like that again, and I’ll—”

“Let me guess,” Johnny raises a brow. “You’ll hit me in the balls.”

Your thin lips tell him all he needs to know. 

Shuffling past him, you frown and pull your wrapping closer, shuffling your chin into it. No fires for warmth, you know—not with people on your trail.

“I want an explanation,” you turn and dig into him, walking closer as John looks to the side. “If I’m sticking my neck out, I want answers as well as coin.” Poking him in his chest, you force your neck to find his gaze. “Why are you running?” 

Johnny sighs, licking his lips as he nods with a low, “Fine.”

You tilt your head, and John moves back to sit against the stump, moving out his hands in an honest display. 

“I was told I needed to marry and produce heirs if my house was going to survive, aye?” He states, and you know the story well. “My parents are gone, and my sisters are all married, but my estate is barren of anyone besides myself and the staff. To keep the peace, I gave my word that I would join into a union to secure my assets for my bloodline.”

It was all so formal, the talk of a wife and children—you never understood it. Why couldn’t people simply marry who they love and leave it at that? All this bloodline and assets. Don’t they ever get sick of it?

“What’s your last name, then,” you ask. “McDuff? Mackenzie?”

“MacTavish,” John shakes his head, rubbing his hand up and down the back of his neck. Blue eyes stay with yours. “John MacTavish, I have lands to the North.”

Your brows tighten, arms going to cross themselves. “You’re running from your home because of a union you can freely exit?”

“It isn’t free,” he grumbles, shaking his head firmly and setting his jaw. “My father’s wishes for his children were written down and sealed. I was to marry a daughter of Arthur Campbell when I came of age.” John chuckles face going a bit pink. “As you can see, I’m a good few years past that.” 

You tilt your head, and while Johnny was certainly passed the normal age of a male in his position to be wed, it struck you as odd as to why he didn’t want to be in the first place. In marriage during these times, a man has little to lose when joined. Almost nothing else changes for them except another title is added to their long line of others already living under him.  

John continues, and you stay your snake-like tongue for now. “Wasn’t until I learned that by now, Mr. Campbell’s second born daughter, who was the only one near my age, had passed nearly an entire year ago—leaving only the oldest behind.”

“And?” You hum, intrigued to see where this goes. Johnny itches at his chin, scratching the stubble that lives there along with the dirt and grime. “What, I’d imagine the head of the Campbell family wanted to uphold the arrangement?”

“Aye, they did,” John grunts, nodding. “Fiona Campbell was the woman I was set to marry today.” He pauses, sighing heavily before looking to the side. Darkness had set, and there was little light by way to see the expression of guilt growing on his face. “I’m not lyin’ when I say I didn’t want to make such a mess of it, but there’s only so much a man can do when he learns his bride is not only twice his age,” John breathes, grunting, “but also just…” He stops himself, sighing. 

You frown, gut swirling. 

“She was blank, do you understand?” Johnny asks, motioning a hand in a display of unknowing explanation. “All she seemed to care about was children and wealth. A slate waiting to be filled with someone else’s thoughts and ideas. I didn’t want to be the one to fill it—I’ll not be some husband that runs a wife around like a dog. That isn’t right to me; it wasn’t how I was raised.”

Your mind twists on itself with an indefinable feeling—skin tight to your bones as if taken and tied by ropes. Your heart pumps blood a little harder, but just because this man seems less of a bastard doesn’t mean you like him. He’d dragged you into this hunting party of his grand problem, and the sooner you got your payment, the better and easier it would be to disappear.

“How noble,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Yet, your voice is hiding an under-the-breath shock. “So you bolted into the woods?”

Johnny rubs at his nose bridge, growling in annoyance. “Yes—it was the best cover I had. Been going through the trails since sunrise.” He slaps his hands to his knees and stands back up with a grunt and an ache in his thighs. His sarcastic voice peels the shadows. “Are we satisfied, now, Bonnie?”

“I won’t be until you’re out of my sight,” you level, moving forward. “So are you going to bed so I can drag you to the port or not?”

John’s body is heard shifting as you slip down the trunk of a tree, backside hitting grass as you settle in for a restless sleep—pulling your wrap tighter over your shoulders. Here you were: weaponless and in the company of a runaway groom still in all of his finery. 

You wanted that damn boar broach. 

“Sleep’ll be smart, we need to be up early,” John says seriously, his shoes shifting the leaves. Letting the chill seep in, you burrow into your fabrics and glare ahead. Johnny’s sly voice is so reminiscent of yours, that you have to wonder if the two of you were cut of the same cloth. “I won’t be opposed to a cuddle if you get chilly, Little Lady—”

“I should have stabbed you when I had the chance.”

Johnny’s low chuckles waft over the air, and then the silence settles fully. 

Yet, you’re up far later than you anticipated…and you find this honest man’s confession to be bouncing inside of your skull like an enraged bird.

—

“Christ, did I do that?” A finger is pressed under your chin, tilting your head up as you strangle a gasp at the sudden motion. 

Johnny looks at the tiny cut along your neck from the edge of his sword—the barely-there irritation of the skin that you’d been itching at as you walked forward through the trees. 

He frowns, glancing into your eyes as your body stills at the feeling of warm flesh. 

It was the first day of walking, and the silence between the two of you had stayed. Not only were you annoyed at the situation, but also John’s story—you’d been mulling it over since last night. 

But below that anger, you might have even felt a little wrong. 

“Who else?” You sigh sarcastically to the man, trying to hide the rising flood of heated shock. Thick digits drag along your esophagus slowly in study, and John’s face creases the longer he looks. He’s hunched near you, too—and you can smell the low scent of leather and earth. 

Johnny pulls back with a huff and slips a hand into his sporran. Your eyes watch with blatant distrust until a relatively clean rag is taken out by a steady hand.

He motions with it. “Come ‘ere. Let me get the dirt out of it before it gets infected, eh?”

You sigh lowly but decide it’s a good idea at the very least before nodding—John’s fingers return as the light from above leaks through the branches. The morning was cold, but not unreasonable; the woods gave shelter from the otherwise abusive wind of the open country.

“Look at that,” you breathe, “The first nice thing you’ve done for me.”

“Ah,” John lightly glares. “Not quite right—I carried you away instead of making you run with me.”

Your eyes roll, and Johnny’s chuckle echoes off the surroundings.  

“Such a gentleman,” you grumble, feeling the rag press into your throat and the soft scrape of it across your scratch. 

“So,” the man hums, blue eyes stuck to your flesh as he takes care of it far more nicely than you’d imagined someone to be. “Seeing as I’ve shared my sob story, Cat-Eyes, I think I’d like to ask after yours.” His voice is full of amusement. “As we’ll be keeping one another company.”

“It’s less as in-depth than yours,” your fingers twitch as Johnny moves back after the cleaning is done—returning the rag to his sporran as he blinks. 

“I don’t believe that,” he raises a brow, as you ignore the remembrance of his touch and continue, paving the trail as the dark-haired man follows a close distance behind. “Can’t say there’s many times I’ve seen an unwed woman wielding a bow and thieving someone out of their money. I’ve seen a lot of things, Bonnie,” he laughs, “but never that. Scared the hell out of me when you dropped down.”

“You can add me to the top of the list, I suppose,” you puff a teasing breath. After an expecting pause in the conversation, you grow bored of the nothingness. 

“I’ve lived out here my entire life—I do what I have to. That’s all there is to it.”

John’s face gradually pulls into itself, only looking away from you to glance at the path to make sure he won’t fall. 

“No family?”

“None,” you tilt your head, shimmying under a low branch and pushing leaves off your shoulders. They sway to the ground softly as you brush an arm over your forehead, sensing Johnny’s attention. 

The man grunts. “M’sorry.”

Your feet stumble for a moment, pace faltering, until you cover it up easily. You turn to stare, narrowing your eyelids as open blues watch silently. John’s shoulder brushes yours.

“It’s life,” you blankly answer. “Least I wasn’t married off. Where you had to worry about a blank slate, I had to worry about becoming a broodmare for a man who most likely would never love me.”

Johnny licks his lips, eyes darting to the ground. “Can’t imagine you like that,” he mutters, but it isn’t some joke—he’s truthful. 

“Perfect,” is what his ears twitch to. “Because I’d sooner act like you and bolt from my wedding as well.”  

“Would that make me the thief in your story, then?” Johnny asks, chuffing as he smiles towards you, reaching a hand above him to push another branch out of the way—separating it from your form as you bend under. “I’m tellin’ you, I wouldn’t be very good at it. All that dropping down from trees would have my knees screamin’. Not that they don’t already.”

Your laugh pierces his chest, and the man sends a kind if not a bit startled, show of interest to you. It sounded like a bowstring slapping a wrist—harsh and telling all at once: something to be known and understood even if heard only once. 

John blinks at you, and his heart patters along in his chest.

“I think it would be more fun to think about you with a dagger,” you narrow your gaze at him, smiling. “A small thing like that would disappear in your hands, Johnny Boy.” 

“Disappear?” He tilts his head, raising his hands to hover in front of him. “Ah, they’re not that big, are they?” 

You shift, and, nearly without thinking, you slip your hand to sit above his. Johnny makes a noise in the back of his throat, eyes going wide as you reference the size of his grip under yours, but allows you to regardless. A blue gaze slides to your face, openly imploring, before they dart back down to your shared hands as the roughness of his callouses scraped against your flesh. 

“Care to compare?” You smirk, lifting a brow.

Johnny’s lips parted quickly, blinking a few times as he tried to find the words to accompany his running mind. He clears his throat, but the small sheen of red pigment on his cheeks is undeniable. 

Laughing, you detach the connection and pull ahead, leaving the man behind as he stutters with a fast pulse.

“You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” is what he decides minutes later, a large grin on his face—he was enjoying this, for whatever twisted and flawed reason, he was. John’s adrenaline was pumping, his heart was pounding, and his feet were passing over the earth, yet, even better, his brain was sparking at a mile a minute for the woman who walked only three feet ahead of him. He watches you take these trails like an expert, not having to look down at your feet as stone and wood are passed as if you were water above them, whispering and nearly silent.

“At least I’m not boring.” Your eyes meet him, and in them, they create some horribly beautiful amalgamation of twin flames—two sparking fires that feed from the same ember. “You would never catch me becoming a housewife, Johnny Boy.” Your gazes never break. “There are far too many things to steal in this country, and so very few men who can keep up.” 

John’s chest moves in the beat of his pulse—his attention wholly transfixed upon the sight of this wild-born woman whom he’d only met yesterday. There were leaves in your wrap, and brown-black mud coated up to your ankles, even sweat sitting at your temple, yet you moved with grace befitting a Lady: never seeming to tire of jokes or firm surety. Yet…you weren’t cruel—you weren’t without purpose. 

Any accomplished thief would have just stabbed him and taken what they needed in your house. You offered John water, however, you chose to give him a chance to comply. It was such a small thing in the grand scheme, but Johnny was always one to analyze how one feather on a bird can affect the flight pattern, so to speak. One action that speaks volumes. 

You liked creating games, and, lucky for him, John loved to solve them. 

And that glint in your sharp-slitted eyes was becoming more and more enjoyable every second, he found. 

Pushing back the strands of his wayward hair, John keeps up with you for every step, not unfamiliar with how to traverse unsteady terrain. He wasn’t lying in what he told you—he had spent most of his life in the forest beside his home: hunting, fishing, riding. There wasn’t an activity he didn’t enjoy when he was outside, though his mother was always heavy on him about the mess he brought back. 

Blue eyes drop back down to your dirt-laced pants, and the man can’t help but give his best, lip-pulling smile. 

Hell, if he didn’t know any better, he would say that you were something that made so little, and at the same time so much, sense to him. 

“Well, maybe they just aren’t accustomed to hiking, Little Cat-Eyed Thief.”

There was something special in the glances you two would throw one another.

—

Your hands dip into the clear water, fingers open to feel the current drag through them gently. 

“If you want a sip,” you say, cupping the liquid and bringing it up to your lips, “it’s safe. This river flows down from the hills—not perfect, but there’s only a small chance it’ll make you sick.” 

John comes up and hums as he sits down beside you, folding his legs under him and leaning forward to submerge his arms up to his elbows in water. He sighs, and you hear the river gurgling as the man begins to rub up his flesh, getting rid of all the grime. 

“Good to know.” Blue eyes spare you a look as he continues. “What’s this one called?”

“Woodney river,” you answer. “Old Man Jack Woodney ran a water wheel on this river a long walk West. If this place had a name before that, it won’t tell.” 

Johnny washes his face, scrubbing at his stubble as the scratch of it plays in the side of your ear. You watch along the opposite shore, eyes going from trees to birds—even to the shadows of fish that quickly swim past. Sighing, you have to admit the beauty of this adventure. There were few times you could say you’d gone this far into the woods with no wealth to trade in with the townspeople. 

You side-eye John and study him just as heavily as you do a wild animal.

He wasn’t unattractive, you admitted. Strong—sturdy. Johnny was capable in a way that most Lords wouldn’t be, some, you guessed, would already be complaining about the uncomfortableness of their clothes or the flesh of their blistered feet. But John was bright-eyed; more than once you’d seen him actively watching the stretch of the trees for any sign of his pursuers. He never complained. Not once.

“You’re not as insufferable as I thought you’d be,” you say. Frowning, your hands push back into the water and cup some of the chilled liquid. You let it drip before you extend your hand to your neck and feel your eyes droop in relaxation. 

Johnny laughs, staring at you for a minute as he slowly raises a brow. His face shows amusement.

“Am I supposed to be insulted or not?” 

“I leave that for you to decide.”

John cracks his knuckles and shakes his head as he stands. “C’mon,” he drags, but the smile in his voice is clear. A hand is set in front of yours. “Sooner I get out the port, the sooner I’m out of your hair.”

Your face softens slightly. 

“Am I ever going to get an apology for being tossed like a sack of potatoes?” Skin meets skin as you slip your hand into his, and the man pulls you to your feet as you smile. Calluses brush yours, and yet again, you find you enjoy this game—perhaps more than any other you’d played before.

And you don’t understand why.

Johnny’s fingers are firm over yours, curling as water drips to the ground below in reflective droplets, and you think back to the first time you’d met him—panting breath and rapid eyes. Your eyes glance to that boar broach, and find it attached to a man that is suddenly more of a mystery than a closed book. 

“Easy,” John mutters, steadying you by your shoulders as you remember where you are. The dark-haired man squeezes your flesh and looks into you.

Blue eyes glint, and that smirk, you find, is always followed by a tiny tint of his head. “And what’s that look for, Cat-Eyes?”

“You called me strange.” 

John’s brows furrow. “Aye. I did.” He looks you up and down slowly. “You are.”

You do the same to him, not wasting more than a moment. “And I find it funny that you haven’t said the same thing about yourself. You’re far more strange than I’ll ever be.” 

“Guilty,” Johnny smiles, nodding slightly. His hands are still on you, and he doesn’t seem to even notice. “I don’t think a normal one would fuck off from his own wedding, would he?”

“Or kidnap a woman as a guide,” you state, pulling out of his warm hold even as your stomach flips as you brush past

“Again,” John’s hand motions through the air. “Abduct.” 

“You’re just saying that because it sounds slightly better,” you grimace over your shoulder. “Like comparing a dog to a wolf.”

Johnny is hot on your heels, and when the river-eroded stepping stones to the other side of the water are the clear path to take, he’s already on the first and holding out his arm for you as a true gentleman would. You glance at him and hop to the first stone, liquid sloshing at your shoes. 

Your smirk is stuck with his like two pieces of a quilt, and neither of you realizes it.

“You put a knife to my back first, Dearie.” John puffs and his face is right next to your ear as you both cross the stones—you lean into him and elbow his side before your arm slips into his. The man grunts, blinking as he chuckles above the slosh of water. 

“So? Maybe I only point knives at the men I like.” 

“Then I’d say you have every right to put one right at my throat.”

Feet move carefully over rocks and the spray of the water that coats them—a dance of wit in their own right. It was like animals circling one another, all sharp eyes and pulled lips trying to find weaknesses. Deadly flirting and addictive banter. 

Where annoyance was such a common emotion, now there was a near expectation of jabs; of tantalizing quips for the glimpse of another's mind.

Neither of you could understand the other, which was exactly why you both reveled in the brush of warm flesh. 

“Careful,” your feet meet the hard ground once more on the other side, and John only lets go when he knows that you don’t need him to steady you. “You’re engaged, Johnny Boy.”

Your tease slips in one ear and out the other, and the man watches you turn and begin walking again with sly eyes. John’s wide gaze stays stuck there for a moment—mouth eager to continue any conversation given. Watching you walk, his heart beats speedily. 

“I think my, ah, reputation has all but ruined my chances on that front—”

There’s something unique about the sound of an arrow sinking into flesh that can’t really be forgotten. John had heard it many times—even been behind the bow that shot it; the slap of the string across his forearm, the set of his shoulder blades widening until the arrow disappeared. 

But there’s something worse knowing that the sudden expulsion of air from lungs, in fact, belongs to you and not some wild animal. 

You’re hit in a fraction of a second, down on the ground in less than that—your mind not even understanding above the immediate pressure and the slam of earth. You gasp loudly, and then the pain hits. 

Hand snapping to your left bicep, your eyes slash down to stare as grass and mud fly into the air, rabid sounds escaping the back of your throat at the image that strikes you. An arrow was stuck deep into your skin—sticking out as blacked feathers flutter at the end of the shaft. The adrenaline hits rapidly, but the expression of horror still remains.

“Cat-Eyes!” Johnny yells, rushing forward, and unsheathing his sword, the sound of metal on metal harsh, but not as harsh as the sound of blood in the man’s ears. 

You see the swelling of crimson, and, from under your fingers, the red of blood slips as your breathing gets hoarse. Biting into your lip, the quick sound of an under-the-breath groan of agony ripples.

But you’re not stupid.

Scrambling to your feet with the arrow still poking out of you, Johnny gets to you and pushes you behind him just as your shaking legs straighten—-your eyes slashing the woods in panic. Pain can wait.

The runaway groom spares you quick glances, pushing you further behind as his raging gaze darts this way and that. He yells into the trees, anger and order infecting his voice, “Show yourself!” 

Just as suddenly, there’s a relieved call and a moving shadow. You clench your eyes tight and grit your teeth as a wave of pain rockets through you.

“Fuck,” you grind out, lost under the louder voice. Blood drips to the ground.

“My Lord!” Men burst through the leaves, bows, and swords aloft. “Quickly—to us!”

Johnny’s face is stiff; there isn’t an ounce of care, but the flash of recognition is swift, and in his chest, his heart, once beating so quickly, drops to his stomach. 

Knights. His knights. Christ, the two of you hadn’t been fast enough. 

“Stand down!” John spits, and cares little now for the thought of robbery or assault on his person—these men wouldn’t hurt him, but they were tasked to bring him back. “Fucking bawbags, the lot of you.”

His sword is sheathed by twitching fingers, and no sooner were those digits around you instead.

You pant hoarsely, face tight as your vibrating body tells you to run—eyes locked onto Johnny’s, the man in front of you ushers you over to the trunk of a tree hurriedly, uttering, “Just breathe now, Dearie—listen to me. It’s alright, aye?” 

“What is this?” You raggedly push out, flinching as your spine meeting the bark jostles your arm painfully. 

Your teeth grit, tears collecting in the corner of your vision.

“Knights,” John mutters as if his words are chased by wolves. “They’re after me—probably thought you were either holding me hostage or trying to lead me into an ambush.” The colorful fabric of his pinned tartan is dragged off from over his shoulder and shoved into your weeping flesh, and you lightly moan in agony, head falling back to the tree. 

Tears slip from over your cheeks.

“Easy.” John’s concern is palpable. Worried eyes dart from your face to your wound. “Jesus,” he utters under his breath, anger flashing. 

“Who is this?” One of the knights asks, taking a step forward as Johnny holds the fabric to your wound and speaks to you lowly, utterly ignoring the people behind him. 

“I need to break the shaft off, okay?” Blue eyes try to keep even, and John’s other hand captures your cheek. He levels your face right in front of his, breathing lowly. The man clears his throat as your tight gaze flutters, tightening his grip. “Hey,” Johnny breathes. You grunt, voice a low grind. 

“Just make it quick.”

John’s lips thin. “Yes, Ma’am.”

His large hand swiftly moves to the arrow, gripping around it just where flesh meets wood, you hiss loudly, spitting and raging as your vision partially blackens. Pain sparks up and down your spine, racing like a cat after a mouse.

“Lord,” one knight tries again, coming closer and reaching out for Johnny’s shoulder. “We need to get you back to Castle Campbell—we’ve been hoping to find you unharmed for your future wife’s comfort. Everyone is in a panic!”

“I’ll count down to three,” Johnny whispers to you, breathing heavily as he swallows and steady himself, hand lightly clammy. He wished he had his hunting gloves with him, but this was the best he could do. “Eh,” the man grunts, eyes steady, “You listening, Bonnie?”

“I don’t care what you count to,” you nearly bark, orbs flashing. “Just break the damn thing off—!”

The wood snaps with a defining splinter, and your scream afterward has the man having to hold you up with his arms around your waist, muttering into your ear with his lips against the shell. 

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” John hears the clatter of the shaft to the grass just as the knight’s hand is heavily placed on his shoulder. “Breathe. M’right ‘ere.”

You sag into Johnny taking in the scent of sweat, blood, and dirt—the musk that stays even as your ears start ringing and the voices start getting louder. 

“Best get your hands off o’ me before I break ‘em, Mate” Johnny grunts from deep in his chest, shifting your body to the side and effectively ripping his flesh out of the knight’s hold. 

All the others shift nervously—hands on their swords and looking back and forth between the strange scene.

Who were you? A mistress? A bandit luring their Lord away? Why was he with you out here; going in the opposite direction of where the ceremony was supposed to take place? They’d been given orders, and a knight is no good unless he can follow them. 

John MacTavish was needed, and their duty was to see it through.

Johnny’s tartan had fallen to the ground behind the two of you, getting kicked by feet as they shuffle and as your blood slips off of your limp fingers. Mind failing, your pain-addled form shakes even as the knowledge of imminent danger is present. 

You needed to figure out a way to get out of here. 

Pushing your head up from Johnny’s shoulder, your eyes flutter but manage to analyze what little you can see clearly—adrenaline can take care of most of your agony, only leaving a dull ache as your heart continues to rage. 

A group of four knights have their hands on their swords, and all of their eyes are on John. 

Run, a deep part of you urges. Your legs are still good. Take off—none of them know the terrain like you do. You’ll be free. 

You pant, your nostrils flaring with every breath as your sweat trickles off your jawline. Johnny’s grip on you tightens, head shifting back and forth, unknowing where to anchor itself, not understanding which is more important—your state, or your safety. 

Free, free, free. 

Your mind flashes to an empty house: silent woods. How you would go months without seeing another human face, but that was your own choice. 

Wasn’t it? 

Your eyes slip to Johnny.

“We’ve been tasked with bringing you back, My Lord,” the first knight says, looking heavily upon the runaway. “We have our orders. Please understand.”

“And I’m telling you your orders are utter shite,” John spits. “So back the fuck up and drag yourself out of this place. Now.” He glares, teeth snapping. “Those are my orders.” 

Your arm is numb, and your chest expands as it sits on John’s own. And you think.

You knew you were a selfish person. 

There was no debate about it—even when you’d stolen enough coin to feed you for weeks, there was still a part of you that longed for some chase; some challenge to your senses. You liked stealing. You liked the looks on people's faces when they realized they were being swindled for every valuable item they had in their possession. But there was something you liked even more than all of that—a challenge. 

Johnny, to you, was that challenge. He was the largest challenge you’d ever faced. A Lord who was running from a bride, a man who held his beliefs higher than praise or standing…a blue-eyed stranger who matches your poking jabs word for word.

“Damn,” your growl, and John takes it as an exclamation of pain. 

He grits his teeth and studies you, opening his mouth as his concern grows at the smell of blood. 

“We need to tie it off,” he utters. “Bastards made me drop the tartan—I’m sorry, Dearie.”

Your lips are near his ear.

“When I say ‘go,’ run to the left.”

Johnny halts, attention snapping down. His fingers flinch around you, face open until the mask of sudden knowledge flies over it like a curtain. But it’s gone just as quickly—hidden by intelligent eyes that glint. 

He doesn’t question you, and, in the crux of your shoulder, you get a near-infinitesimal nod from Johnny’s head. 

The guards grow suspicious, all mulling closer by the second the longer you two remain so close—on opposite ends, you feel your heart mirroring John’s in a rapid and ravaging pulse: Thump-thump, thump-pump, thump-pump-thump.

Your attention is split three ways.

One: the rising numbness of your limbs and the heat of your brain. Two: the spread of Johnny’s panting breath across your sweat-slick skin and his hands tightening. Three: knights and the clatter of their armor. How they slide their hands across their weapons like intimate partners—the tension building in a hemp bowstring and the sound of arrows hitting off one another; one taken and played with between fingers so similarly to how you would act. 

Your tear-stained eyes glare at the knight who’d shot you, your expression building into an act of hatred. 

They take a step forward. 

“Cat-Eyes—” Johnny begins to warn slowly. 

“Go.” Your words are no shout. They don’t echo off the trees, which all hold their breeze in expectation, they don’t ring in ears except the ones of the man holding you. But they’re like the personification of a sword strike—like the release of an arrow and the impending thump of it hitting home. 

The knights dash forward with calls for their Lord to stand down, but John’s already flinched away with a heavy grunt. 

You do the same, your plan already formed—you would run the opposite way as Johnny, only slipping off when the cover of bushes had enshrouded the both of you to create two sets of tracks. With any luck, the guards would break off into two groups and pursue the both of you, and you could easily lose yours. 

From there, circle back and find John: get your bearings before—

Arms never detach from your waist, and you’re once more tossed into a strong grip.

Eyes bugging, your focus breaks as gravity leaves and your head goes light. Johnny dashes away, and, just as the last time, you’re in his boar-like hold. 

“You idiot!” You bark, the only difference to your predicament now is that you’re held in a bridal grip and not slung over his sweaty shoulder. There was only a small sliver of relief before the annoyance overtook you. 

Johnny’s body crashes through the leaves, the shouts of the knights following as he gruffly raises his voice to the wind. The trees shake with amusement. 

“Thinking you could hand over some directions, Dearie?!”

“Thinking you could put me down?!” You shout back, your arm sparking with pain as your opposite wraps the man’s neck firmly. “Damn.” Your lips twist in response. “My legs work just fine, you know—I wasn’t shot in the arse!”

“Acting like you were,” John grumbles, a branch slapping his cheek before you can. Despite it all, he chuckles wholeheartedly at his own joke.

An arrow whizzes through the air, and you yelp, ducking behind his body even more as your skull fits under his jaw. Your eyes snap to the visible terrain as Johnny’s legs push from one side to the other, running in a zig-zag pattern to avoid any more injuries. 

“There,” your brows rise, fighting past the pain to find the familiar slash of a gnarled willow tree that whizzes by in brown and dark green. 

Your head rises to see more of the woods, only to be pushed back down by an all-expansive hand as John utters a fast-breathed and firm, “Not the best idea.” 

He shoves through brambles, and the sounds of rampaging knights are gaining. The second John sloshes through a low pool with a loud curse, you know instantly where you two are. 

“Take a left near the overhang with vines coming down!” 

“That one?”

“Yes!”

And so this game continued long after the knights had been lost to the woods, stumbling about without any sense of where they were, and the two of you came to a panting halt an hour later. Deep night was setting in on the second day, and, as your shaky feet hit the ground, John kept a heavy eye on you. 

“Steady,” he mutters, sweat pouring off his face; saturating his clothes. He worriedly stares, looking you up and down.

Your vision swirls, the glade around you the exact place you both needed to be. There were hills here—surrounded by thick trenches carved by rivers long dried. The stars were out, and the moon was shining down; one thin trickle of a river was feet away, the sound of water on rocks addictive to your pounding ears.

All of it was null to the way your gut flipped at the humming agony of your arm. 

Your hand snaps to the puncture and the flood of blood is enough to leave your fingers dripping with crimson glinting in moonlight. 

There’s a heavy ripping sound, and then you find yourself sitting down in the grass as Johnny shoves the torn fabric of his suit into the small river. You hear the splashing as you glance down at your arm before rapidly looking away, biting at your lip as your spine hunches. 

“Christ almighty,” you growl, glaring to the side as your fingers quiver. Tears well.

“The arrowhead is keeping pressure,” John hurries to speak, trying to distract you just as his own exhaustion is bare to see. The rung-out fabric is looped around your arm, tying off until you have to strangle down a scream at the tightness on your flesh. “We have to keep it there until there’s enough sterile material to fix it up.” 

“Your knights are pieces of work,” you hiss, more from the wound than anything.

John gives a little look, blue eyes darting up until falling. 

“Aye, they are.” His strong jaw clenches. “This shouldn’t have happened, Dearie.”

You stare as he finishes up, and you feel his fingertips slipping along your arm. Your eyelids droop, closing as your nostrils suck in shaky air. You take a moment to take in the silence that follows, John’s eyes not straying as your face is illuminated. 

He watches the streaks of dirt along your skin, and, in a soft attempt to fix this, he stands and moves to the river once more—cleaning his hands. Johnny takes the rag out of his sporran and wets it, coming back to your body as the grass waves back and forth. 

 “Let me…” the man says slowly, and your eyes open back up as the chilled item is pushed to your cheek. 

Wide orbs staring forward, you swallow as John concentrates on cleaning your skin carefully. 

“Infection is my immediate concern,” the man says with a sigh, yet continues as your tongue stays tied; face growing more heated by the second. “But you mentioned it takes three days to the town, aye? That’s not unmanageable with two already under our feet.” 

Blood, dirt, and sweat slip away with every drag of the fabric, and, stuck into his suit, that boar broach still sits—crooked now, but still there.

Your attention is momentarily taken by it, and your fingers twitch before you notice how very close John’s face is to yours. 

The man focuses, relaying a plan as you’re stuck mute; your arm holding its own heartbeat as the grass shifts.

“I’ll use what I have to get you into a doctor. Make sure there’ll be no problems before I get going.” John blinks, tilting his head. “‘Course, that’ll decrease the amount you’ll get in turn.”

“Fortunately for you,” you breathe, voice strained, and blue eyes stick to yours. John pauses, brows slightly pulling up on his face. “I value my own life too much to complain about a man paying for my care.” 

John’s rag stays where he placed it, right on the swell of your cheek as, this close to one another, you can see the scar on his chin—one that curves to the muscle and bone. 

He was handsome, make no mistake about it. You knew it; you understood it. A lord with morals and the smarts to go along with the strength—now that was utterly unheard of. You liked that, truthfully. Someone who could think, and plan. 

And, of course, follow directions. 

“You’ll be fine,” John mutters, glancing to the side, yet his head doesn’t move back. He clears his throat with a sigh. 

You roll your eyes, moving out and grabbing his hand with the rag. Johnny’s expression startles, arm tensing as you steal the dripping fabric from him. Water runs down your neck.

“I know I am.” You huff, smiling. 

You push the rag onto his own face, and begin your cat-like approval of his character, washing away the grime just as he had your own. A blue gaze stays firmly on your flesh, the man’s shoulders loosening until he’s sitting just in front of you. Verident grass whispers in a language like a soft breeze, and you study Johnny’s skin until everything becomes a mosaic of scars and blemishes—stories woven into sinews holding as much history as the tines on an elk or the chipped tusks of a boar. 

Two days and he’d become even more of a mystery than he had been before. Or maybe he always had been, and now your previous contentment had grown into an addictive curiosity. 

He’d called you Cat-Eyes. 

You couldn’t love a title more—not even if Lady were on the table.

“I settle my scores,” you grunt, tilting your head as you push back mud from his forehead, leaning in. “You wash my face, I wash yours.”

“Literally, then?” A sarcastic eyebrow makes you huff. 

“Is that not what I’m doing, Johnny Boy?” 

“Seems so, Cat-Eyes.”

Your matching glares hold no venom. 

Smirking, you lean back after the last swipe at his forehead, pushing Johnny’s skull back as he chuckles, moon-lit visage something you would see scrawled on the parchment of an old story-teller's sketches. A man not made for this age.

Your face softens slowly, and it is a strange thing sitting atop the sharpness of your eyes. 

John’s chuckles fade, and his breath catches in his throat. 

“You’re an odd fellow, John MacTavish,” you say, here, with blood from an arrow wound drying to crack along your skin. 

Your head tilts, eyes narrowing. 

John’s lips slowly pull upwards, and the water on both of your faces drips to the listening earth. This place is alive with possibilities, and all of them stem from the growing draw of twisted human souls.

A just Lord and a cunning thief.

A sharp-eyed cat and a strong-bodied boar. 

A future and a past—riddled with arrow marks; long sword slashes.

“Well…then I’m thinking we make quite the pair, Bonnie.”

—

The third day was spent on the latter half of the journey. Re-correcting the course and giving the best directions you could with the numb ache of your arm spreading up your shoulder. 

But the town came easily as the midday sun rose to crest your heads. 

“Want to lean on me?” Johnny asks, standing close by, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“Feels better to keep myself focused,” you mutter, grimacing. You look at the entrance to the town, and as you both walk it, the stares are immediate—shocked residents looking at the haggard appearance of two individuals. 

“Alright,” John sighs, side-eyeing you. “Just let me know if you’re goin’ to keel over, yeah?” 

“Duly noted,” you tilt your head his way. Your lips smirk like a smug child. “You’ll catch me, won’t you?”

Johnny chuckles, shrugging his wide shoulders as his tattered finery is chock-full of brambles and leaves. 

“Can’t say no to that.”

The Lord kept his promise—the doctor took the arrowhead, cleaned, cauterized the wound, and sutured you back up. For payment, as you lightly touch the bandaged section of your arm, you find your eyes freezing as a silver glinting reflects off the light through the window. 

Johnny hands over his boar broach to the doctor. 

Widely staring at the prize being pawned off for your health, your heart stutters in heavy greed.

No, you rapidly think. No, that was the one thing that I—

Your eyes inexplicably snap to Johnny. 

The immediate thought is that he looks angry, but, the next and more accurate one, is that he looks sad.

John’s blues continue to follow the broach as it disappears into the doctor's pocket, and you see the weight fall back to his chest and arms—sitting heavy like a stone. The man’s feet shift along the ground for a moment, and he looks like he’s about to say something before he grits his teeth and shakes his head to himself. John grunts, fixing his nose.

You blink, and then your heart twists in on itself for no reason at all. 

Or maybe there was a reason. 

“C’mon, Cat-Eyes,” Johnny sighs heavily, tilting his head as his arms cross. “Time to see me off, then.” 

He walks out the door, and your eyes follow like a loyal dog. 

Standing there for a moment, your lips contort your face into a deep frown, sharp eyes gaining a sheen of light anxiety. Yet, there was no mistaking it—it had been said a million times—if there was one thing you could do, it was play a game.

Maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Oh my,” you mutter, putting a hand to your head and stumbling. 

The doctor starts forward quickly, grasping at your un-injured arm. “Careful now, Woman. Don’t rip my sutures.” 

He tells you, getting you fully up as you chuckle, placing your hands above his thigh, fingers twitching on the fabric. 

“Apologies, apologies,” you mutter, retracting your hand and cupping it against your abdomen with a meek smile. “Just a little lightheaded. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Best be off, now,” the man grumbles, and you’re out the door swiftly. 

Your shoes meet the cobble as you shift your hands into your pockets, shifting your body to look along after the large form that leans against the home waiting for you. 

“Ready?” Johnny asks, though his attention is firmly planted on the ground five feet away, lost in thought.

“Aye,” you sigh, nodding your head to the East. “Port’s that way—let’s get this nightmare over with.”

“Hm,” Johnny agrees, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Quite the adventure for a runaway.”

“You can’t have thought it would be easy?” Your brows furrow. “You’re heir to the MacTavish lands.”

“I never said I thought it would be easy,” John moves at your side, a great hulk of honesty. He hands over his attention at last as you fiddle with the smooth item in your pocket. He huffs. “Just that it was an…experience, to say the least. One I’m not sure I’d want to go through again.” 

“You’ll miss me,” you say confidently, meeting eyes with a smirk and a cocky shift to your form despite the lessening pain. 

Johnny watches. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “Aye. I will.” You pause, expression stilling. The man hums, and you swear there’s something special in the way you can describe his look as delicate. 

“You were the one part that I don’t regret,” he says lastly to you as if the words aren’t spears laced with poison. 

Your breath gets caught in a way it never has, and John seems not to notice as he pulls ahead, muttering about him seeing the docks. The smell of salt water slaps your nostrils.

The legs under you slow until they’re stopped, and you look after the man as he begins speaking to workers along the port, asking for a spot on the large ships that sit in the water, rocking with the winds.

Your eyes trail, seeing the way he talks with such confidence—openly offering physical labor as his payment for even the dark quarters with the other laborers. 

After what seems like hours of watching, you see him shake another man’s hand, and, just like that, passage is earned. He jogs back over, smiling. 

You open your mouth to say something, but find the words null and void. You don’t know what to express. For once in your life, everything seems to be moving horrifically fast.

“Well,” John’s expression slowly sombers. “I suppose this is it then. I said you could ask for anything, and, I suppose,” he shifts the sword on his belt off after a moment, looking down at it. He holds the item, testing its weight. “I suppose this is all I have left.” Blue eyes slowly meet yours. “If you’ll take it.”

Always a thief, never a saint.

“I suppose it’ll have to do, Johnny Boy,” you sigh, the pain in your heart outweighing the one on your arm. “Hand it over.”

The sword is transferred and slipped to your waist. Many a man on the docks gives you strange looks, and, you find you welcome it—none could compare to the admiration in Johnny’s. 

You lick your lips. 

“Do one thing for me, hm?”

“Anything,” John mutters, not blinking. 

You move forward, and place a firm kiss to his lips.

The man freezes, fingers twitching at his sides, before he sags and bends into you—his great hand capturing your cheek until all that remains in the sear of his heat and the scent of the earth. 

You softly pull away, though not far enough as to where you can’t feel his breath on yours. Gazing into his eyes, you smile the widest you can remember.

“Don’t go running away from another wedding anytime soon. I can only save so many Lords until my reputation gets slandered.”

“You’re ruthless,” John growls, smirking as his eyes glint, looking you up and down. “Little Thief.” 

He leans in for another kiss, but your hands only shift above his sporran before you dart back, chuckling. 

“Always,” your hands brush his sword on your hip as you walk backward, grinning behind the strange pressure in your heart. If someone asked, you wouldn’t even know how to describe it.

John takes a step after you, face open and raw—an emotion you feel like mirroring if not for your excellent control. 

Not yet.

“I’ll take care of this,” you call, patting the weapon. 

“Good,” Johnny calls, taking one more step forward before stopping himself. One of the shipmates calls from the dock, and his eyes snap there with a jaw tense. He looks back at you and blinks, brows pulling in. In the heat of the moment, he exclaimed, “I’ll be back for it one day, Cat-Eyes!” 

“Lovely!” You yell, back turning. “I’ll be waiting for you then. I do hope you’ll be able to get through the woods, and, please, don’t keep a woman waiting! You’re much too handsome for any of that.” 

And then you’re gone. 

Johnny stares at where you were, his smile large and his face heated, and after a louder call from the dock, he’s forced to turn and jog to the ship, hurrying up the board until he can stand on the swaying deck with his two feet. 

He looks around, chuckling to himself, and still, his eyes shift back to land without fail; hoping for a glimpse—a small shadow. 

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, the man reaches into his sporran for his rag, intent to clean and set it to dry when he’s able to get the chance to settle in. It’s one of the last items to his name no matter how pathetic. 

Yet, his hands touch something far more precious. 

Johnny’s body goes as straight as a tree when his fingers caress smooth metal, and, slowly, his grip pulls out the silver of his broach. 

It glints in his palm as he sets it there, and his breath is stolen in one great bound of shock and confusion.

“What in the…” He already knows. 

Johnny’s feet take him to the railing gently, and his body stands there—torn wedding clothes and all looking over a town that begins to move as the ship sets sail. He holds the broach carefully, not intending to let it go for an age. He just needs to lay low for a while. He needs time.

John smiles. 

“I won’t keep you waiting,” he mutters to the moving homes, and he swears he sees the glint of a sword from between the buildings, and two sharp eyes digging into him. 

You’re there, of course. Hidden as always. 

You want your trees back, and you think that a day of sitting in your Oak is a good idea. 

There’s dirt on your face again—your lips are chapped and your face is bitten by the wind; scars and blemishes that time won't heal but make all the more visible as the ages pass by on bird’s wings and cat purrs. Yet here is an action held immemorial. 

A gift given freely by a thief is one to be treasured like pure gold, and the man on the ship knows that more intimately than any other as he clips the broach to himself with a hum.

You both watch the other from opposite, distant points until there’s no sun in the sky left to see with. Just a faint hope lights the way: the hope that your eyes will grace each other's visage, at the very least, just one more time in your life. 

There was never a story so willing to be experienced than that of a runaway groom and his cat-eyed Thief. 

TAGS:

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[ultrone]

When you have time, could you do protective Lottie headcannons?

𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗘 ⌗ pre-crash

n/a. of course i can <33 hope u like these

At parties or any social events, she doesn't let you out of her sight for one second, she's always standing right next to you, either holding your hand or resting her arm around your waist.

She drinks, but always makes sure to stay sober or to just get a bit tipsy so that she can look out for you. She lets you have fun, but doesn't let you get completely wasted.

"This is like your fourth cup, baby. I think you're good for the night."

If you complain or pout about it, she'll get a bit serious and take the cup from you, "C'mon, Y/n. I’m not playing." She doesn't say it in an annoyed manner though, just overprotective.

She then drives you home and won't leave until she sees you entering your house safely and locking the door behind you.

If you're too drunk she stays with you though. She helps you put on your pjs and tucks you in bed, "go to sleep baby, I'll go get you some pills and water," she says before giving you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

She then gets under the covers and big spoons you, holding you tightly the entire night.

Picks you up for school every morning and rests her hand on your thigh while she's driving.

She then walks you to your first class, saying goodbye by giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

She always either has an arm drapped around your shoulders or holds your hand when y'all walk through the school hallways.

She's constantly giving you her yellowjackets' bomber jacket, the one that says 'matthews' on the back with big bold letters.

"Why was Nat sending you notes during english class? What did they say? Let me see them."

If you ever get hungry at school, she gives you money so you can get something from the vending machine.

And if you give her your best puppy eyes, she’ll take you out to your favourite restaurant during lunchtime, even if you're a bit late to the next class.

She kisses your forehead and the top of your head constantly.

She becomes an absolute menace if anyone tries to hurt you. At first she'll just be mean and use her words, but she's capable of getting physical — she usually has good control over her emotions, but she takes it very seriously when someone tries to harm you in any way.

You're her #1 weakness. She loves you so much she'd do anything for you. Once, you lost your favourite plushy, one you had since you were a baby but wasn't for sale anymore. You were so upset, that Lottie literally called her dad and bugged him until he agreed to call the owner of the company and somehow managed to get you a brand new one that looked exactly the same as the old one 😭

She cares so much about your well-being, to the point of getting paranoid about it. She's always making sure you're being healthy — eating well, drinking enough water, taking any pills you need to take, and she will scold you if you don't.

And whenever you're sad or upset, she goes to the ends of the earth to make you feel better. If you wanna talk, she listens carefully and reassures you and/or gives you advise. But if you don't, she respects it and gives you space, checking on you frequently and doing little things to make you smile.

[echobx]

broken heart (3) - a JJ Maybank blurb

summary: JJ goes to apologize to y/n

warnings: swearing, JJ being a little shit (just a tiny bit), lowkey fighting, angsty vibes (?)

word count: 1.5k

author's note: fact is,,,, idk what I'm doing because I have never written like this but I hope you guys like it (also is somehow longer than I intended)

part 1 | part 2

A simple knock against your window before it was pushed open and JJ climbed inside like he had done so many times before. 

You were in the shower, and he could hear you sing along to your music like you always did, but this time it felt different. It wasn't as much background noise to him as it had been most times. 

He kept listening as he settled on your bed; shoes off because he knew how much it annoyed you when he made your bed dirty. 

All the while you had no clue about anything that was happening in the room next door and kept humming while wrapping yourself in a towel and walking back to your room. The small house had thin walls, but just this one time you were blessed with your parents being out on their monthly date night. You could be as loud or as quiet as you wanted without anyone saying anything about it. 

You walked in, not turning on the light and therefore not taking notice of the boy in your bed, who was eyeing you carefully.

But JJ took notice of every little move you made. How you seemed to dance towards your closet. How you dropped your towel before pulling the long shirt over your body. Especially, how you hadn't put anything else but the old shirt on. It wasn't like he didn't know you were hot, but he had also never told you that he did think it, too scared of crossing a line. But he couldn't stop the heat that was rising in him as he thought of all the things he could do if he was of the lesser decent sort. 

You walked over to your bed, phone in your hand and not paying any attention to your surroundings while sitting down. 

“I'm not gonna text you first, dumbass. It's your fault, not mine,” you muttered to yourself before slamming the phone in the pillow next to you and letting yourself fall back. 

You screamed as you jumped back up after having fallen backwards into someone who shouldn't even be there. Turning around and switching on your nightlight you looked down at the boy in your bed and huffed. “Jesus! JJ, what- Why are you here?” 

“Am I not allowed to?” he asked, maybe a bit too cocky considering the fact that he had snuck in and was still lying in your bed. 

“No. Your privileges got revoked for an indefinite amount of time,” you snarled, and he sat up, pulling his legs up and placing his arms on his knees while looking straight at you. 

“You gonna kick me out?” he was still smirking, and it was making your blood boil a bit.

“How long have you been in here?” 

“Not long, cute ass tho,” he chuckled, and you couldn't help the fact that you turned crimson. 

“Leave,” you said trying to regain composure, but he knew you too well, knew you wouldn't actually kick him out. 

But he did eventually get up, walking over to you and brushing a strand of hair from your face; something he had never done before, at least not like he did now. He was careful and gentle and nothing like the teasing ass who usually just destroyed your hair in passing. 

“I came to apologize,” JJ whispered.

“Good, tell me what you are apologizing for?” you taunted him, because you were aware that he had never picked up on it. On how much more you liked him than he liked you. 

“For being an asshole,” he replied. 

“Lukewarm. Take another guess,” you glared at him, at the blue eyes that seemed so much prettier than any others you had ever looked at. 

“For nearly getting myself hurt.”

“Warmer, but still not it.”

“Then tell me,” he asked, and you stepped back, shaking his hand off, that had remained close to your face just to twirl some of your hair. 

You huffed before looking back at him. “Why should I? That's always been it. You don't see me, not even when it's important. You always look past me, and I'm not doing that anymore. I'm not waiting around anymore. I'm not gonna do it. And it's so dumb, so incredibly stupid of me to think you'd ever look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” JJ was a little confused again, because he hadn't expected this. He had played the scenarios in his head. And each time you had forgiven him, and you moved on together, best friends again, like it had always been. 

“I'm- You hurt my feelings, JJ. I'm your best friend, I think that should mean more to you than it does. And I don't need to have to want more from you than that just to care about you. And I care so much. Too much, maybe.” You shook your head, clawing at your scalp as you tried to not lose yourself in the new wave of heartache that was rolling in on you. 

“I'll try to not get hurt again. Is that it? Is that what you want?” JJ asked and stepped closer again. 

“Yes,” you said firmly. 

“Then why did you shake your head just now?” His eyebrow was lifted as he nodded towards you, but you hadn't even caught yourself doing it. It was a subconscious decision, a bad one at that.

“I don't know,” you whispered, and he stepped even closer. 

“I think you do.” His warm breath was fanning over your lips, and you had to gulp. 

“I’m not your girlfriend or whatever,” you hushed, and a small smile slipped over his face. 

“No, you're not.” 

“And I'm not a side piece either. I'm not to be thrown away. I'm to be handled with care,” you kept your voice low, heart racing and feeling the heat rise in you, filling your head and heart and more delicate parts that you didn't even want to think of.

“You're worse than a girlfriend,” JJ laughed silently. “Girlfriends usually don't know this much bullshit about their boyfriends.”

“Keeping a few secrets is supposed to be healthy in a functional relationship,” you said and absentmindedly wet your lips while doing so. 

“I bet you got some for the both of us,” JJ replied, leaning in closer, but you stopped him before he could do something that would ruin your friendship. 

“JJ, no,” you held him at an arm's length. 

“What do you mean no?” he furrowed his brows. 

“I'm not going to destroy years of friendship for a quick fuck.” Your words felt like a slap to his face. 

“What then? Tell me what you want, woman!” he begged, tugging at his hair, and it was truly the first time you had seen him actually desperate. 

“I want to not get my heart broken just because you're pissed. I want to feel admired and not have only ever one date and be ghosted for no reason. I want to be loved, JJ. I want all of that and I don't think that should be too much to ask for.” The words flowed out of you before you could even register them, but it didn't matter because it was the truth and that's all he ever asked of you. 

“But you already have all that,” JJ replied almost inaudibly, feeling his throat close up on all the feelings coming up, ones he had suppressed for years.

“Where?” you huffed, and his face contorted with a type of pain you had never seen on him before. It was like he was fighting himself over it. 

“Me, all right. I-” he turned and looked away. “I do, I mean- Fuck, okay. I love you, y/n.”

“I know, we are best friends. You love me and JB and Pope and Kie and Sarah and Cleo. It's what we do. It's nothing special.” 

JJ turned to look at you again. There was no doubt that you truly believed the words you had just uttered. That the only way you thought he could ever love you, was as a friend. What he hadn't expected was that it would hurt as much as it did to hear it. His heart was squeezing in his chest like it hadn't in a very long time, and when he clawed at it, you came to help, like you always did. Wrapping your arms around him for comfort was like second nature to you both. 

And as you stood there, his head buried in your neck, hearts beating against each other. He finally found his courage again. Because it didn't matter how hurt you were, you'd always come back to him, and he'd always return to you, no matter what. 

JJ pulled away just enough to hold your face in his callused hands, the cold rings softly indenting your cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered and connected his lips to yours without asking for permission, because he was too scared that you would start turning his words around again. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

part 4

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @kys4-20

PS: yes I intend on writing a fourth part, but only cause I ended on a cliffhanger to make myself feel like I actually need to write it and not leave you guys hanging

[blackch-rry]

This is Love, Isn’t It? 

Pairing: Dark!Neteyam x fem!reader

W/C: 12.5k

Warnings: yandere, dark, name calling, character death, heavy manipulation, violence, making out, no use of y/n, a lot of arguments, almost sa but it doesn’t happen, light gore? idk, mentions of blood, reader is naive

Summary: Having such love and attraction thrown your way gave you no choice but to succumb to it. The desire to love him the way he loves you settling deep within, but there is a limit to how far love goes; a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Neteyam chose to cross it.

AN: sorry this took longer than I said :( pls be sure to read warnings!

***

Your family wasn’t as known in the clan as Toruk Makto’s, of course not. Growing up, your parents made it clear to you that the only thing you must do is work hard and keep your head down. You weren’t blessed with the other kid’s abilities to make friends and keep them for years. You stuck to yourself and focused on following your parent’s orders.

It was when you were fourteen you had a glimpse of friendship.

You woke up quite later than usual. The clan was bustling as normal and a cluster of young teens were already half way done with breakfast. You contemplated on getting something eat since today you and the cluster formed were going out to practice hunting. You needed energy, but there was little time left before you’d have to leave. You stood in front of your family’s hut, lost in thought, but a gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back. You immediately turned your head. Kiri.

You quickly greeted her with nothing but respect. She rolled her eyes. You were a bit taken aback but lightened when she had a smile on her face. “Please, you don’t need to do that. We’re all the same aren’t we?”

No, we most certainly are not.

Of course, she’s so humble. Everyone had the utmost respect for the Toruk Makto and his family. You never talked to any of the children let alone had one this close to you. You once had a thought cross your mind that the children of Jake Sully might have been too proud and arrogant, but you were proved wrong when the entire family showed nothing but kindness and respect back to everyone. Needless to say, fourteen year old you was a tad starstruck.

“Are you eating?” Kiri gestured to the display of food that was left. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, I have to go hunting soon. I don’t want to rush.”

Kiri tilted her head. “Well, will you sit with me while I eat?”

You glanced at her before looking away. Eywa, you have no friends. How are you supposed to not be awkward?

“I mean, no offense, but don’t you eat with your brothers?”

“I’ve had enough of them. Come on.” Kiri left her place besides you and sat a bit outside the group of other teens. You stood still, not sure what to do, but you remembered exactly who she was and hurriedly sat next to her. The two of you sat in silence. Uncomfortable silence on your end but Kiri didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, I’ve never done this before. I usually prefer to not interact with…anyone.”

You look at her in confusion and interest. You’ve had urges to do that as well. Walk up to other kids and make friends, but you never had the confidence. You carefully rotated the bracelet your mother made you around your wrist. A habit formed throughout the years.

“What made you come up to me?”

Kiri abandoned her food for a split second, “Don’t know. Just felt like it.”

Three years have passed since Kiri befriended you that day. Throughout the early days of your friendship you thought she’d be your only friend for the rest of time, but eventually you met the rest of the family properly and the other three siblings of hers took a liking to you as well. Especially, one in particular, but you thought of it has him being kind.

Besides Kiri, Neteyam would chat with you the most. He would ask you about your day, include you in conversations, was there to steady you whenever you stumbled, and always listened intently when you spoke. He was truly kind, a gentleman. Lo’ak, on the other hand, wasn’t as straightforwardly engaging as Neteyam. It bothered you slightly.

Having one friend was one thing, but having three more was hard at first. You remembered how awkward you felt when the Sully siblings took you out for their own little adventure all those years ago. Kiri had just turned fourteen and insisted you joined them. You, being a year older now and taller than her, looked ridiculous clinging to her side the entire time of walking into the forest. Her brothers were a ways ahead of you both, but Tuk stayed close. She was definitely the most excited when Kiri introduced you. She kept saying things like how nice it is to have another girl around. You almost ran out of their hut when Lo’ak agreed, a wave of butterflies swimming in you.

Before you even were acquaintances with them you’ve always taken a liking to Lo’ak. A silly childhood crush.

When you girls finally caught up to their brothers, you stopped walking. You’ve never been this deep into the forest before, too scared to wander in by yourself. They led you to a beautiful opening with a shallow lake and the natural beauty of Pandora surrounding you. You smiled when Tuk playfully ran around. You stopped your admiring and followed Kiri. Neteyam and Lo’ak were already lounging on the grass by the water. You sat in between Kiri and Lo’ak. It was a time spent peaceful. You and Kiri opted to look around and occasionally laugh when Tuk kept splashing water on her brothers and ran off before they could scold her.

The peace was interrupted when Kiri brought up Raziel. Another clan member who wasn’t very fond of you.

“Hey,” She nudged her shoulder with yours, “Will you finally tell me what happened yesterday with Raziel?”

You stared at her in surprise that she would bring it up, now and in front of her brothers. Out of your peripheral you saw Neteyam sit up from his previous position. Your tail began flicking out of nervousness and annoyance. Raziel was the epitome of douchebag. You sighed and leaned back on your hands. “It was nothing, really. Just kept messing me up during training. I couldn’t hit a single thing.”

“How?” You hadn’t noticed Tuk behind you, playing with your hair.

“He just kept grabbing my tail whenever I was about to shoot and calling me…”

“Calling you what?”

Neteyam’s sudden assertion made you shiver. You’ve never heard him like that unless he was defending his siblings. You mentally cursed yourself. You never wanted to tell the Sully’s what people have said to you, but at this point your sure they’ve heard it around. You stared at the rippling water.

“He and his friends just call me a leech…clinging onto you guys like a parasite.”

Kiri placed her hand on yours. “You’re not a leech. They’re just jealous because we truly like you and not them.”

You smiled at her, relieved she didn’t agree. Lo’ak spoke, “Kiri’s right. Fuck ‘em.”

“Language, Lo’ak.” Neteyam stared at his brother and shook his head before smiling at you and saying, “We like having you around.”

You felt warm and appreciated. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt like that. The atmosphere shifted after that, thankfully, and you watched as your friends messed around. Mainly Lo’ak, but you chuckled to yourself every time. Kiri, at one point, even got up and played with him. Time had passed and Eclipse was around the corner. You wondered when you all would head back, but that thought died when another presence took Kiri’s spot. You turned to look and found Neteyam staring ahead.

“I’m attending tomorrow’s training. If you need extra practice I’ll be happy to help,” he tilted his head. A shy look on his face as he waited for your response.

You’ve always known Neteyam to be helpful. Charming as well. Everyone in their family had a certain charm to them. You wished to stop the heat rising throughout your face. You could barely look him in the eye as you replied. “That would be nice, thank you, Neteyam.”

“Of course.”

Not a minute later he got up and called everyone to get back home before Eclipse. You only followed when you knew he was further ahead. You ignored Kiri as she teased you for a hint of pink dusting your face.

The next day at training Raziel and his friends didn’t speak a word to you. They weren’t even remotely close to you at all. Not when Neteyam was always at a five feet distance from wherever you stood. That didn’t stop their glares and incessant whispering. It made you even more insecure. Whenever you would catch their burning stares you wished Neteyam would just walk away and watch the others, but he stood behind you and kept giving you pointers that you had no choice but to execute. When the head of the group ended the session you let out a breath of relief and went to pack your bow and arrows.

A grasp on your elbow stopped you.

“Not yet, your form needs a little work.”

You glanced between Neteyam and the retreating group. He seemed to notice your concern and gently went to fix it. “It’s fine. I asked if we could practice more earlier. You won’t get in trouble.”

You nodded and picked back up your bow and got into position. His hands were on you too fast for you to prepare yourself.

“Here, aim higher,” one hand was on your waist and the other on your arm, “and make sure to keep your elbow back here straight and high.”

He moved his hand to your lower abdomen. “Take a deep breath.”

You followed his instruction, “Hold it there when your body straightens. Feel the difference?”

With his hands still on you, it took you a moment to focus. Eywa, you’ve never had a boy touch you like this. Neteyam checked your stance before taking in your side profile. You seemed determined but he saw your tail moving back and forth waiting for his word. He smiled to himself before leaning closer towards your face. “Go, shoot.”

The arrow released and flew through the air hitting the target dead center. Your smile widened and you look up at him. “Wow, I’ve never shot like that before!”

He smirked and placed his hand on your back, “Just needed a little help from me.”

You raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner at his cockiness. He laughed before his hands were moving you back into position.

“Again.”

That day of Neteyam helping you and the months after that flew by. Your sixteenth birthday was days away and that meant the moment of fighting your future Ikran was approaching. Neteyam kept staying after training sessions with you until you no longer needed it. Even the adult in charge of training said you were on your way to becoming a great hunter. You were still surprised to get this far with Neteyam’s roaming hands on you throughout each practice. You chalked it up to that he’s just a tactile person. Even when the both of you are heading back home he kept his hand on your lower back before you eventually parted ways. His lingering touches and presence around you became more frequent once the two of you spent more time together.

One evening you brought it up to Kiri.

“Is Neteyam a touchy kind of guy?”

“What?”

“I mean that he’s always touching me when I’m around.”

Kiri looked at you like she knew something you didn’t. She rested her chin on her knee. “He only comes in contact with us when we’re annoying him, especially Lo’ak, with a flick to the forehead but nothing else.”

Your confusion about his behavior towards you grew. Kiri caught your questioning state and sighed out your name.

“He likes you.”

“Well, we’re friends. Don’t you like your friends?”

Kiri gave you a deadpanned expression. “It’s so cute and frustrating how oblivious you are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He likes you in a way that…he might want you to be his mate one day.”

You’ve never felt so embarrassed before. You still had a lingering attraction towards Lo’ak but he’s never kept his hands on you like Neteyam has. You let out a mortified noise, a hand brushing over your face.

“Kiri! Has he told you he likes me like that?”

She huffed, “Not outright, but if he’s not near you he stares you down. I’ve called him creepy so many times but he tells me to shut it,” Kiri smirked, “He’s been like that for almost a year…can’t believe you haven’t caught on.”

You shut your mouth from when it fell open in shock. Have I really been so oblivious? The rest of the time spent with Kiri went back to mindless chatter but as you walked home all you could ponder about was the fact that Neteyam, the next Olo’eyktan, liked you.

You tried your hardest throughout the days that passed between the revelation from Kiri and choosing your Ikran to stick by yourself. Not only were you incredibly anxious about trying not to die to an Ikran but became hyper aware whenever Neteyam was nearby and sneaking away before he could see you. You still had to fully process that his liking towards you was more than platonic and that you could be a potential mate, which is hard to do when you’re beginning your rites of passage and had no clue he was into you.

The three days that passed were dreadful. You woke up early to have something to eat and hid in your family’s hut until you had to go hunting. Normally, you tagged along with Neteyam and Lo’ak but you’ve only been going out with your parents. They were surprised at first, seeing as you haven’t gone hunting with them for two years. You just said you missed spending time with them. Which was true since all your time was spent with the Sully kids. After hunting, you made sure to follow your parents closely back home and wouldn’t leave the hut until the next day.

The night before choosing your Ikran you were eating dinner with your parents before there was a figure standing at the entrance.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Neteyam stood with his riding visor still equipped. He must have just gotten back, “Can I talk to your daughter for a moment?”

He kept his eyes trained onto your parents who gave him their respects before gesturing for you to go. You looked between them and Neteyam before reluctantly getting up and following him. You stopped when he chose a reclusive spot away from any wandering listeners, making sure there was a couple feet distance from him and you. Neteyam gave you a once over, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well, you haven’t seen any of us lately. Even Kiri doesn’t know what’s wrong.”

You rotate the bracelet on your wrist twice, “Nothing is wrong, Neteyam.”

His eyes narrowed like he was trying to catch your lie. “If nothing’s wrong why don’t you spend time with us. Tuk misses you too.”

You gave yourself some time to come up with a response. Neteyam doesn’t think you’ll say no to hang with them now, so he reaches out for your wrist and begins tugging you with him. You quickly stopped him by gently grabbing his arm with your free hand. “Sorry, Neteyam , but tomorrow’s a big day for me…I just want to sleep early.”

He glanced at your hand on his arm before meeting your eyes. “It can be short. You can just say hi.”

You firmly stand in place before he can tug you with him again.

“Really, I’m tired.”

He looked at your face. You seemed irritated…maybe even uncomfortable. He hardened his stare before letting you go. “Right…go rest.”

You assumed he would head back home but he sighed and got close to you, like how he did when he helped you practice. He looked down at you before putting his hand on your shoulder, “You’ll do great tomorrow.”

He gave you a comforting smile which you returned. You definitely needed to hear some words of encouragement. “Thank you, Neteyam. Goodnight.”

You turned and disappeared back into your hut before sparing him one last glance. When you’ve gone the smile on his face dropped. He stayed there for a minute, watching the hut, before stalking off. Neteyam thought Kiri cleared the air and you would be quick to return his attraction. He wasn’t worried you would reject him. That wouldn’t happen. He just didn’t like how you’ve been ignoring them. Him. The look on your face when he held you…so tense and apprehensive. He despised it and he didn’t want it to happen again.

You woke up the next morning restless and ready to get it done with. When the time came for the small group of others your age to head to the top of the mountain, you were first in line. You glanced around the group and the family of Toruk Makto were standing ahead of the crowd of adults seeing you guys off. Sometimes older members of the clan liked to attend and watch the younger generations fight their Ikran, but you hoped not many would come. You locked eyes with Kiri. You felt immensely guilty for evading her as well, but the gentle smile she gave relaxed you. You sent her a small wave. Lo’ak even gave you a thumbs up. You turned away and bit back a growing smile. When the group left you were relieved none of the Sully’s were accompanying. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself and have them, especially Lo’ak, bear witness.

Half the day had already passed and you had time to catch your breathe while some other teens went first. You winced at the never ending screeches the Ikran’s gave and the piling droplets of blood shed as they attacked your group mates. You were one of the last to step forward. You looked back at another boy who seemed even more nervous than you. At least there were less watching eyes since almost everyone was taking their first flight.

The time for your first flight had come in a flash. A few Ikran disregarded you or either flew away, but when a deep blue Ikran with specks of varying blue colors screeched and attacked, you let the moment take over you.

Now, here you were, bonded for life, and soaring through the sky. You never felt such immense happiness in your life. Even if she gave you hell to feel it. You forgot the numerous gashes across your body as you took in Pandora. Ora, is what you called her. Her blueness reminded you of the clearing in the forest and the shallow water. You’ve heard the story of Neytiri and Seze. Now that you understand and feel the deep connection coursing through you, you pray to Eywa you will never have to experience the heart ache of losing your Ikran.

After the first flight, you landed on one of the clearings near home and the huts. Dismounting Ora and releasing your queue, you heard Tuk.

“You’re back!”

The joy displayed on your face increased as Tuk hugged you. The rest of the siblings falling in behind her. Kiri watched with bright eyes as you ran your hand across Ora.

“Wow, she’s beautiful!” Kiri said, full of wonder.

You nuzzled your cheek against the side of Ora’s head before she took off to rest. You all watched her go before Kiri grabbed your hand.

“How did it go?” She pulled you in for a hug of her own and wanted to bombard you with questions. Her time to start her rites of passage was coming soon. You stepped back and grabbed her hands, “It was amazing. I’ve never felt so happy in my life, Kiri.”

She went to embrace you once more, but Neteyam pulled her back. “Stop, Kiri. Can’t you see she’s injured?”

Neteyam let go of her once he could examine you. He turned you around before taking your hand. “She needs some of Mo’at’s salve for her cuts.”

His hand found a place on your lower back. You looked over your shoulder at Kiri before Neteyam continued to urge you forward. Kiri raised her eyebrows in annoyance but understanding. Her brother’s pining was getting on her nerves. “Come on, Tuk. Let’s go.”

Neteyam left you in his family’s hut while he went to get the salve. Lo’ak took a seat next to you.

“Does it hurt?”

You averted your eyes from the fresh cuts to him. “Not really. I don’t really care anyways.”

Lo’ak scooted closer, he threw an arm over his propped up knee. “I can’t wait until Kiri and I go up the mountain. You know,” He laughed to himself and you grew curious, “When Neteyam came back he was such a baby. Crying over the littlest of scratches.”

Lo’ak grabbed your arm closest to him, “Tinier than yours. He was throwing a fit when grandmother healed him.”

The thought of Neteyam acting as such caused you to laugh along with Lo’ak. The two of you didn’t notice he came back, hands full. The laughter died down when Lo’ak’s hand was being taken off you and Neteyam began spreading the medicine over your cuts.

“It’s okay, I can do it.” You went to take the bowl of salve but Neteyam moved it out of reach.

“I want to help.”

You turned to his brother but he just shrugged his shoulders slightly. That heat from before resurfacing. You watched Neteyam work on healing you gently. This touch of his making your heart beat in a way you never knew. After growing close with Neteyam you weren’t comfortable with his hands on you at first, but the conversation you had with Kiri crossed your mind. He does it because he likes you? You never had experience with boys. Your crush on Lo’ak was the first time you found that tight ache in your chest whenever you looked at him, the first time you ever desired to kiss someone.

You glanced away from Neteyam working to his brother. He’s distracted, folding a leaf into something Eywa know’s what. Lo’ak’s never been touchy with you, he’s never as attentive towards you as Neteyam. He doesn’t like you. You felt sullen at the thought.

Neteyam catched you eyeing his brother. He put the bowl down, a little bit too heavily, “Lo’ak, go find Kiri and Tuk.”

“What? They’re fine-”

“Lo’ak.”

Said brother shook his head and pushed himself off the ground, slinking off in annoyance. The coolness of Neteyam’s hands were back again. This time you brought yourself to stare at his face. He’s so focused but you can tell he’s thinking hard. There’s a quaint frown he’s got adorned. You let him be since you know he’s almost done. He went around you, searching for anything he missed. He hummed in satisfaction. You reached for his arm before he could start to bring the supplies back to Mo’at.

“Thank you, Neteyam.” You gave his arm a squeeze accompanied by a timid smile. He beamed back down at you. He turned his head around towards the hut’s opening and squatted back down to bring his mouth near your ear.

“Meet me after eclipse. I have something important to tell you.”

He left you there to contemplate.

Once the evening sky faded to nothing but black you silently got up from your lying position and peeked your head out. It was a known fact that no one was supposed to go out during eclipse, but Neteyam didn’t give you a chance to question him. You could get caught and suffer consequences dealt by your parents. You almost turned around and went back to sleep, but Neteyam’s deep voice, whispering in your ear, was too intriguing to abandon.

You kept throwing fearful glances as you hastily left the sleeping clan. He didn’t tell you where to meet, but there was a spot all the mischievous teens snuck out to on nights like this. You felt a pang of guilt when you spotted Neteyam leaning against the side of the mountain. He casually said your name. He sauntered over and you met him in the middle.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem. You showed up.” He gestured with his head to follow. He sat with his legs falling over the ledge. You waited for Neteyam to speak. It must be something troubling him, you guess, since his tail was moving swiftly. Never have you had a conversation with him like this, just you and him, out past curfew. You didn’t want to seem like you were rushing him, so you waited until he was ready to talk. He stared ahead, towards the star filled sky.

“Are you attracted to my brother?”

Taken aback, your eyes widened. This was certainly not what you had in mind to come out of his mouth. You immediately said, “Did Kiri tell you?”

“So it’s true?”

“I’m not sure anymore.”

You really weren’t. Months ago, you asked your mom how she knew your father was the one she wanted to mate with. She told you stories from her past; how she was infatuated with another clan member but your father made her feel special. He left her gifts and spoke words of adoration before she decided to give him a chance. You’ve been thinking about how different Lo’ak is from Neteyam. If Lo’ak had an inclination of returning your feelings, maybe he would have been the one to help you practice, ask you to spend time with his family, take care of your scrapes and bruises. You turn to face Neteyam. Your tail beginning to move with curiosity.

“Why are you asking me?”

“I needed to know if you thought of him that way,” he side eyed your face. His expression changed to something you didn’t have time to decipher. He used his hands to assist in scooting back to turn his body completely in your direction.

“Neteyam, I’m not sure what-”

“I like you…and I can’t spend another day keeping these emotions to myself.”

You watched him take your hand. His thumb grazed over your knuckles. Not knowing what to say, you looked at him. He took this as his moment to continue.

“A few months after I met you, I just felt so captivated. You like to keep to yourself but when you finally let go and be apart of the moment you glow. I see it when you talk to Kiri. I saw it when you came back with Ora. Especially right now, even though we all emit light after eclipse, you are the only one I see. Glowing so bright…so beautiful.”

Neteyam moved your hand so it was resting on his chest. You could faintly feel his heart beating.

“I found myself desiring to see you like that at all times. I wish to become a reason for it as well.”

Speechless, you suddenly want to look anywhere but him. You don’t know what to do with words full of affection and intimacy being spoken to you. It felt warm. You felt seen. You kept your gaze leveled with his own. Neteyam still had his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest, so he lifted his other to move your hair. He then tenderly held a side of your face.

“I want to be with you.”

You couldn’t move away, not when his confession sent you into a daze. Being wanted romantically…you couldn’t believe the newfound emotions that coursed through you. You wanted to cry and the gathering of tears stinging your eyes didn’t help.

“Neteyam,” you let your fingers spread against his chest, wanting to feel his skin, desiring to see him the way he sees you. A sudden flash of insecurity hit. You pulled back, hesitantly removing your hand from him.

“I’ve never been with someone before.”

He smiled despite the loss of contact, “I know, but,” Neteyam inched closer. His knee hitting yours.

“Do you trust me?”

One thing you knew was that you did trust him; you trusted all of the Sully’s. Being here, with him choosing you to be vulnerable with, letting his true feelings for you shine, gave you a sense of something dreamlike. The way the warmth of his body spread and his eyes pulling you in…felt so tantalizing. Like he was luring you and you didn’t mind. You thought to yourself, were his eyes always this beautiful? You moved your gaze slowly across his face, taking in all the little details that escaped you before. Overwhelmed by his being and the entire weight of his confession, made you nod you head. Yes, I trust you.

That was all he needed so he grasped your face with both hands and brought your lips to his. This time you didn’t pull away. You let him guide you, letting the moment take the two of you completely. Unsure what to do you, you tried your best to keep up. He parted your lips with a swipe of his tongue. A few more shared kisses before he leaned away, only to bring the two of your to your knees so he could slowly rake his hands down your back and pull your body pressed up against his.

The heat of the moment grew. Two sets of eyes searching, waiting for what came next. A smile of pure joy graced his face making you display one as well. He wasted not another second before he dove back in to have you. You had to take little breaths of air in between the small amounts of time he allowed you. If you had known how good it feels to kiss someone then you would have been doing this earlier in your life. If you had known of Neteyam’s feelings then you could have been kissing him like this, like nothing could matter more in the world than his lips wanting yours, much sooner.

Neteyam let out a stifled growl. He needed more. His hands grasped the back of your thighs as he lowered himself to sit on his heels. He used the back of your thighs to raise you onto his lap. Neteyam smirked at the gasp that escaped you. It drove him to grab the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His lips begun increasing in movement. You finally withdrew when his other hand, the one that wasn’t cradling your head, kept inching lower and lower.

“Neteyam…I think we should stop now.” Your voice soft but strained.

He furrowed his brows, “Why?”

“It’s just a little too fast for me. I’m sorry.” He looked at you briefly, looking for a hint of deceit, but he remembered this is new to you.

“No, don’t apologize. You’re right. We can take things slow, for now.”

You removed yourself from his lap. “We should get back.”

He was quick to follow you. On the walk back to the clan you had an urge to hold his hand, so you did. Stepping feet away from your sleeping parents, Neteyam took a quick kiss. Before you departed he asked, “We’re together now, right? I can be with you like this forever?”

Still reeling from his touches and kisses, you had no other thought but yes. You nodded your head at him and basked in the tight embrace he gave you.

For the remainder of the night, sleep didn’t come for a while as you laid replaying the previous events. You never knew your heartbeat could be so fast. All because of him. Despite you not being on the same level of affection as him, you thought he deserved a chance to have his feelings reciprocated. You’re willingly to be with him and dreaming to see where it leads you.

While you couldn’t stop thinking of what happened, Neteyam couldn’t stop thinking about how he was the first to kiss you. The thought of him being the only person who will get to kiss and have you drove him wild. Nothing mattered more to him than making sure you were only his to touch, kiss, and mate.

Once you he was sure your love was as strong as his, he would make sure you and him stayed together even after Eywa decides it’s time. Nothing will come between Neteyam and what he desires. Not a single thing.

***

That fateful night seemed like an eternity ago. You and Neteyam had been together for over a year now, reaching two. The beginning was slow like how you wanted. Nobody knew of your secret relationship. The nights ended with delicate kisses and warm embraces. Kiri had a hunch. Even though you kept your part hidden, Neteyam didn’t shy away from having some form of touching and lingering around in your presence. His sudden outbursts at any comment Raziel threw at you grew each time. Not only did Kiri suspect, but almost everyone did. When things had become too hard to cover, you fessed up. The Sully family wasn’t surprised. Tuk hugged you for quite a while before Neteyam started to complain about it. Your parents were the only ones slightly shocked but were happy and prideful nonetheless. Especially since it was the son of Toruk Makto. As your relationship with Neteyam grew, so did the heavy weight of everyone’s expectations.

You soon realized the dream of becoming a mighty warrior might not come true. Your parents encouraged you to spend most of your time practicing the ways of Tsahik and so did Neteyam. He was exceptionally insistent you stayed home, with his grandmother, away from the dangers lurking throughout Pandora. After one heated argument with Neteyam over it, you reluctantly agreed. It wouldn’t be so bad to try at least. The past six months have consisted of seeing Neteyam off before he went out with his father to patrol, helping Mo’at grind herbs, staying in Neteyam’s arms when he came home for the rest of the day, and repeat it again.

You longed to see and mount Ora. It’s been weeks since you called for her. The handful of times that you did get to see her, Neteyam was there. You felt a tad guilty for wishing to spend time with your Ikran alone. You weren’t sure how to bring this up with him but you can’t stay holed up all day forever.

Neteyam has always been protective of his siblings, but over the course of your relationship he implemented it with you. You found it cute when he would wrap an arm around your wrist during gatherings for the whole time. He even made you a necklace, one that has matching beads as his.

“Never take this off, okay? If I ever see you without it, it would kill me. You wouldn’t want me to feel that way, would you?”

It was endearing, at first, how he had to beg you to tears to gradually not go hunting or exploring with his siblings without staying by his side. How he would cling onto you no matter what, kissing you all over and saying words of adoration.

But recently, the dynamic between you and him changed drastically. You could tell it was bothering him deeply, but you’ve been so torn up over what happened a week ago.

After dinner one night, you and the Sully kids circled up. You guys often went to a vacant space near the huts to spend time, talking and having fun, to have some sense of relaxation before adulthood crept up on you.

Kiri and Lo’ak seemed to be arguing over a topic that was probably not worth getting heated for, but you got amused watching them. Neteyam pulled you closer, if that was even possible, to give you a peck on the cheek. Which then lead him to tilt your face so he could indulge in deeper kisses to your lips. You never liked it when Neteyam was handsy or displayed this much affection in front of his siblings, especially Tuk. Before you could stop him from going further, an object thrown your way stopped him for you.

“If I knew how gross you two would be, I would have never introduced you! I don’t even want to imagine you two mated.” Kiri pretended to gag then fell into a teasing smile.

You honestly found it funny and so did Tuk and Lo’ak. Neteyam, on the other hand, hissed at her.

“You always find a way to be a little brat.”

You watched as Kiri’s smile fell, hurt replacing any sign of just messing around. You turned your head in shock.

“Neteyam! She didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t care. She’s always commenting on our relationship. I’m fucking tired of it.”

His fingers pressed into your side, his annoyance getting the best of him. There’s a scowl on his face towards his sister. It’s quite rattling seeing him snap at her when he’s never done that.

“Dude, chill. It’s not serious.”

Lo’ak glanced between in siblings then to the ground in thought before saying, “Honestly, you’ve been so weird lately. Like we get it, you two love each other, but nobody wants to be around us anymore.”

Your ears twitched. His statement making you confused. You did seem to notice a couple of other young clan members leaving whenever you were around, but you didn’t know why. They never were friends of yours, yet it still left a negative impact in your head. Did you upset them? The atmosphere shifted when Neteyam said his brothers name in warning. His strict voice made you shiver but you pressed further anyways.

“Lo’ak, what do you mean?”

His head lowered and his eyes went between you and Neteyam. The inner conflict he had was apparent. He shook his head, “I overheard some guys, Raziel and his friends. They were saying something about Neteyam…that he threatened them.”

“Is this true? Why would you do that?”

Neteyam scoffed, “You believe that shit? I didn’t threaten anyone. They’re just jealous of us, trying to take you from me.”

You squinted at him. It made no sense to you why they would want to separate the two of you. For over a year, nobody has made an intention like that known. Lo’ak, visibly irritated, kept his jaw tight. Kiri got up and took Tuk with her. She had a feeling things were getting ugly and frankly she was upset. Lo’ak couldn’t keep his anger down anymore, especially after a blatant lie.

“Bro, seriously? You told them you’d skin them alive if they even talked to her! You’re acting crazy!”

Before you could question Neteyam, he spoke, “I’m not fucking crazy! You don’t know what being in love is like! I’m just protecting her…I don’t care about what I said, I would do it if those lowlife bastards even breathed near her.”

Detaching yourself from him, you stared in fear at his words and the sinister voice that accompanied them.

“Neteyam!” You couldn’t grasp that he could even think about harming another person because of you. It made your stomach churn.

“Do you even hear yourself? Protecting her doesn’t mean you can act all psycho and beat someone up! People are scared of you, bro! It’s making them not want to be around us either…you need to chill.”

Lo’ak huffed after voicing out his anger. Lo’ak couldn’t stand to see his siblings being evaded over something that doesn’t include them, or seeing the fallen expression on Tuk when kids would ignore her. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother act like a stranger. Neteyam used to be so kind and good but now that he’s resorted to violence instead of his past level-headedness, Lo’ak doesn’t know what to think anymore. This isn’t the older brother he looked up to.

Lo’ak doesn’t blame you. He actually feels bad that you can’t see what Neteyam has become. Lo’ak has picked up on some weird behaviors his brother has displayed. It made him wonder how he could treat you like that since he’s never seen his parents act in such ways. Ways like how controlling Neteyam is over you; telling you what not to do, who to talk to, or keeping tabs on every little thing you do. Lo’ak didn’t know how to help. He couldn’t outwardly tell you that it’s wrong and not what a healthy relationship consisted of. He just didn’t want to see the both of you like this anymore, a side of his brother that irked him and you so head over heels that you didn’t notice.

Before he can think about it, Lo’ak said, “Honestly, you two should spend some time apart.”

It was a suggestion meant to be caring, to be helpful. You had no time to even process Lo’ak’s sentence. Neteyam left your side, moved so quickly that he pushed you with the action.

You gasped in shock as Lo’ak had been tackled to the ground. Neteyam hovering over him, his knees on each side of his brother locking him in place. His fists making contact repeatedly. You cried hearing Lo’ak’s weak pleas for him to stop. You too begin to plead for Neteyam to get off of him and you tried to grab his arm; unsuccessfully pulling him away.

You felt stunned when you took in the hatred on Neteyam’s face. You’re not sure when you heard their father shout and forcefully shoved his eldest son off his youngest. Lo’ak laid on the ground, coughing up blood, before falling unconscious. Jake could only look at Neteyam in horror before picking up his son. The sight of Lo’ak’s face bloody and unrecognizable made you kneel over and throw up.

When you’ve emptied your stomach, there’s a hand that soothingly rubbed your back. You immediately jerked away to stand, giving distance from Neteyam. You looked at his unscathed body and felt disgusted.

“What the hell is wrong with you? How could you do that to him?” You brought your hands up to your eyes, pressing your palms into them, as if it would help erase what you just saw. You let out a sob.

“Stop crying! You heard what he said! He wants you all to himself.”

You uncovered your eyes in disbelief. What was he talking about? Lo’ak was simply concerned.

“He didn’t say that, Neteyam! He doesn’t want me!” This outburst of his flipped a switch in your mind. Did he truly believe everyone was out to ruin your relationship? That his own brother would too? The longer you looked at him…you couldn’t deny a growing doubt. This isn’t the man you grew to love, at least you thought this wasn’t him. Were you really the cause of him saying awful and doing terrible things?

“Maybe he’s right. We should take a break.”

Neteyam’s sudden grabbing of your wrist caused you to stumble. His eyes squinted and held intense anger. His hand tightened around your skin, it made you wince.

“Don’t say something you don’t mean. We’re not taking a break.”

Despite the large amount of fear, you begun to get frustrated. You pried his hand off you, “I meant it, Neteyam. You scared me and I don’t want to be around you right now.”

You took steps backwards; wishing to be in your hut, alone.

“I’m sorry that I scared you, okay? But you’re hurting me, so much. You can’t leave…don’t you see how much love I have for you?”

Neteyam slowly trailed after you. He no longer looked upset but rather dejected. You swallowed a lump in your throat. The swift change in his demeanor made you cautious instead of guilty.

“I understand how much you love me, and I love you too, but I’m serious.”

You fully turned now, heading home. Your arms were over your chest and your head down.

“Get back here! We’re not done!”

Neteyam’s shout pushed you to quicken the pace. Nearing your hut, you looked over your shoulder. Neteyam walked after you was paused when his father stormed up to him, his hand firmly planted on his son’s chest. You saw Jake furiously say something, but Neteyam’s eyes were locked on your retreating figure.

You cried into your mother’s arms before falling asleep that night.

***

The day after, it was quite easy to avoid Neteyam since he was occupied with his duties, but it became increasingly difficult once he was free. You sat in silence across from Mo’at, who was equally as disappointed after hearing the events from the previous night.

When Mo’at was satisfied with your work she relieved you for the day. You thanked her and got up to leave. Neteyam was lingering around his grandmother’s hut ever since he got back, his face lit up when he saw you. Still mad at him, you ignored his presence and headed out of the caves to call for Ora. You desperately wanted a flight to de-stress. Seconds before you made your calling signal, Neteyam said your name.

“Please, can we talk?”

He stood close behind you. His posture tense. You tilted your head at him, “We’re on a break remember?”

Your words had come out harsher than you intended. You shifted your weight as you saw Neteyam tighten his hands, the healing wounds on his knuckles a reminder of what he did. Neteyam took a deep breath, his body swaying slightly as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I just need to speak with you…please.”

His voice sounded anguished. Your chest tightened, conflicted you spoke, “Neteyam…I don’t know if I want to hear what you have to say right now.”

The silence that followed felt awkward. He came toward you, a scowl on his face, but stopped when you receded. He scoffed, raising his head slightly upward, breathing heavily through his nose.

“Don’t do that, move away from me like I’m scaring you.”  

“Well,” you opted out from saying that he was making you frightened, you said, “I just want to be alone. Spend time with Ora, okay? We can talk later-”

“No,” he cut you off, “I need you to listen to me…I apologized to Lo’ak and I’m suffering the consequences, alright?”

Neteyam reached for your hands, holding them softly. “Everything’s okay now, I swear…even if he did deserve it, I promise you won’t see me like that again.”

You stared at him incredulously. How can he say Lo’ak deserved it? And act like it was just something to sweep under the rug?

“It’s not okay, Neteyam! Let go.” You tried pulling out from his grip and you thought you were successful. You took a step back as he fell to his knees, his hands dug into your skin.

“Please…please- don’t do this to me. Don’t be mad at me.” He stared up at you, eyes glossed over.

“Forgive me…”

Eywa, why did he make this so hard for you? Yes, his recent behavior angered and worried you, but you were never good at saying no. Your developed feelings for him were still present, all the good ways he’s made you feel hard to just forget. You felt a surge of guilt seeing him vulnerable. It would break his heart if you up and left him here without as much as a goodbye. You couldn’t bring yourself to do that, so you searched his eyes and gestured for him to get up.

His touch never left as he stood.

“Just give me time to think.”

You took his hands off of you and turned to call Ora. Neteyam protested, saying that you can’t leave him yet, but finally gave up as you hastily mounted your Ikran and took off. He watched from the mountain until you were a mere spot in the sky. A ball of rage grew inside of him at the sight of your Ikran taking you further away. He didn’t like that you could just fly off when he’s trying to have a conversation with you. It wasn’t right.

During your time with Ora, you spent most of it confessing your worries to her. The amount of mixed emotions taking over made you feel bad that Ora had to experience them as well. The decision made when you returned home didn’t come easy. You wanted to know why the beginning of your relationship seemed like an entirely different one than now. Neteyam used to make you flustered with his gentle touches, endless kisses, and private words that felt euphoric. Yes, you knew he has been protective since the beginning, but you used to smooth it over. Thinking that he acted like that over you because it was both your first real relationship. You thought it was cute. You begun to think back on every detail you must have dismissed before.

It conflicted you until you pondered about when he seemed to change. Back towards the fresh months of being together, Neteyam was nothing but the perfect gentleman, someone who you could see as your future. But when you remembered the very first instance of how he lashed out, the change must have started then.

You were too consumed with completing the task of gathering herbs to see a shadow come up behind you. After you left your bent position, Raziel made his presence known. He was so close to your body that when you saw him you stepped back in surprise. You glanced around the area and saw no one else.

“Raziel, what are you doing here?”

He towered over, his glare was piercing, “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

Raziel looked down at you with disgust that slowly morphed into something corrupt, “I want to see what’s so special about you.”

“I used to think that you were a little prude…had nothing to offer.”

His eyes continued to roam over your body, “But if the oh so great Neteyam chose you, then there must be something.”

His hand reached out and his fingers played with the bottom of the piece that covered your chest. You shoved his hand away, repulsed by his action.

“Don’t touch me.”

“No, I think I will.”

He went to grab your arm but it was short lived as he was pushed to the side. Neteyam was breathing heavily as he stood beside you. He wasted no time shoving him harder, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

This anger radiating off of him was something you have never witnessed before. You moved out of the way and stood behind. Raziel raised his hands in defense, he was never one to actually engage. He always let his friends take the punches for him with whatever fight he started. A pathetic person entirely.

“Nothing, man.”

As Raziel went to leave, Neteyam stared him down. You could tell he was riled up, his biceps flexed as if he was ready to throw a punch. You calmly placed a hand on his chest that brought him back. Neteyam softened his expression a tad seeing you concerned for him.

“It’s okay, love. He’s gone,” you rubbed his arm in a calming manner.

“What did he want? What was he doing to you?”

Still feeling uneasy and disgusted, you evaded his questions.

“Let’s talk about it later. Can we go home?”

Neteyam wanted to know that second but he what he wanted much more was to hold you. He did just that. You accepted the embrace, holding him tightly, and held hands on the way back home.

You didn’t find anything wrong with Neteyam defending you that day. You still don’t because if Neteyam hadn’t stepped in the events that could have transpired would haunt you at night. Maybe after that day the both of you had changed. The days had begun to bleed together when everything started to be the same. He had you with him from morning to night when didn’t have to fulfill his duties, he was twice as affectionate if that was even possible to begin with, and even if you were with your parents or Kiri you could feel him watching.

But you always saw Neteyam as your safety net, he was your protector. You begun to do whatever you could to please him. Ignoring the red flags that were visible to everyone else in the process. To you, Neteyam did no wrong, but who could blame you? You had fallen deep into his world, his eyes, his voice, his love.

That was true love wasn’t it? You give your entirety to him and he gives himself to you. Two people belonging to each other, breathing for one another.

On your ride with Ora, there was no denying how far gone you were. You have become to dependent on him and vice versa. Some time apart would be best, but you don’t think either of you would last. The idea of you being the one to hurt him, his heart, was something you couldn’t fathom. But when you get back you would have to come to an agreement with him. No more threats and violence.

Honestly, there were plenty of things still bothering you. If he was so enamored with anger why didn’t he come to you? Talk to you about it? Why didn’t Lo’ak tell you about his hidden concerns and feelings? You thought to yourself that you would have been understanding, but another thought popped up. Would you have been? Or would you have thought Lo’ak was crazy? That Neteyam was not capable of such things. You must have missed the warning signs. You thought a person couldn’t just act in ways Lo’ak described without it being built up inside.

You frowned to yourself. Was there another side of Neteyam that you couldn’t see? It stung your heart to think of him that way, but the idea formed never left your mind.

When you descended from the sky, Neteyam was there waiting. You must have been gone for hours. He continued to wait as you busied yourself with Ora before sending her off. You looked back to the sky and saw Eclipse was nearing. You still didn’t know what to say. You knew that you didn’t want to leave him, but how were you going to tell him something that could possibly upset him. You didn’t want to do that either.

Neteyam stood before you, his voice deep, “You’ll still be with me, right? You’ve been gone for so long.”

“Yes, I had to think about everything. Us.”

“Was it ever that serious though? To have to rethink us…me?”

His previous sullenness was wiped away, something unreadable taking place. You showed a displeased expression.

“I take your hostile words and actions very seriously, Neteyam. I don’t want you to feel that way on my behalf anymore. I just want you to talk to me when you feel angry. You should have come to me with what has been bothering you, not taking it out on others and making more people hurt and upset.”

Neteyam felt a flicker of irritation. He pursed his lips together as if he ate something distasteful.

“That’s hard to do when everyone in this fucking clan is out to destroy us! Tear you away! Why do you think Lo’ak started that fight? He wanted to put those thoughts in your head to make you question me…hate me.”

You were beyond bewildered. What was he talking about?

“No one is out to destroy us. What makes you think that?”

He looked at you like you were the one spewing nonsense. He shook his head, “How can you not see? Everyone glares at us! I can hear them whispering all around. Especially that fucker Raziel…I had to do something about him. Even my own brother has betrayed me.”

Frustration of your own was kicking in.

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t be like that if you didn’t go around threatening people! That’s the reason why. Kids look up to you, adults respect you, what are they supposed to think when you’re acting like that?”

“What?”

Neteyam scoffed, his tone dark.

“I’m serious. I hate seeing you like this.”

He stepped back as if you slapped him. His aura was like a dark cloud. His eyes cold as they stared into yours.

“You hate me then, don’t you? You don’t love me…if you loved me then you would agree. You would console me, you wouldn’t be arguing with me.”

“Of course, I love you, Neteyam. This just isn’t making any sense to me.”

The main thing that hurt the most was him questioning your love. If anything your deep affection should be so clear. You love him so that’s why you’re having this argument. To try and understand the cause. How can he say that you two shouldn’t be fighting. If you had just dismissed this whole thing then it would have been a massive weight within your mind. A never ending thought that would have consumed you day and night.

Neteyam towered over, “Well, it makes perfect sense to me…I can’t believe this. See? We can’t be doing this,” he displayed his hands out, gesturing to you and him, “This fighting…it’s not right.”

You squinted, disagreement on the tip of your tongue, “Couples fight, Neteyam. Do you just expect me to be quiet and obedient for you? Be a thoughtless servant just for you?”

“Yes.”

Stunned, you chose to stare at his chest. You wondered if this was his true self. Behind the layers of his  kindness, heroic nature, and warmth, was a blazing fire of a dark desire. It burned you. He burned you.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can be that for you. I won’t.”

You wanted to walk off; go anywhere but near him. Neteyam started to panic. He couldn’t help but say what was his truth and the amount of hurt radiating from you was too much. He wrapped himself around you, his hand caressing your hair.

“I- you just mean everything to me, baby. I meant it…in a way that I can’t imagine a life without you. I just don’t want you to give up on me.”

You couldn’t see his face but his voice was wavering and you thought he was starting to cry. A headache was beginning to surface. Is this what people called a one-eighty? He was so angry and now he’s crying on your shoulder. Admittedly, hearing his words made you feel better. He didn’t mean it. He just wanted all of you. The optimist in you outweighed the pessimist and you hoped that this was just a storm passing through.

You held onto that hope as you said, “I won’t give up on you, okay? Can we talk tomorrow? It’s late.”

Neteyam detached himself from you. His eyes were dry, like he didn’t shed even one tear. You pushed the observation away for now. The want to go home on the front of your mind. You tip toed and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek to catch him off guard as you scurried off.

After you greeted your parents and sat emptily to their scolding for coming home past eclipse, you laid awake.

Was he faking it? Did he put on a show for your forgiveness? Sleep didn’t come to give you rest that night.

The continuation of the previous night’s talk didn’t happen. You tried to bring it up, but Neteyam either turned a blind eye or said, “Not now.”

Two weeks passed and they all consisted of not now’s. Neteyam dropped it entirely and you gave up when you realized that meant you had to drop it too.

Since the night of the incident between Neteyam and Lo’ak, your relationship with the Sully family shifted. It was at a point now where you felt ashamed, like it was your fault for this sudden crack in his family’s dynamic. Kiri had been distant with her brother, choosing to exchange words when it was necessary. The rift between the two brothers was growing each day that passed and a swarm of guilt fluttered within you.

To add gasoline onto your burning shame, you have been distant with them as well. It’s been weeks since you had a conversation with Kiri that wasn’t an awkward exchange of greetings and you have barely seen Tuk since she’s been training for her rites. But now, you found yourself alone with Lo’ak.

The normal routine was back the day after your argument with Neteyam. That routine being him carrying out his duties alongside his father and you busing yourself with Mo’at tasks. You had been left alone in her hut before the youngest Sully son sauntered over. Nothing was said, he merely watched you work.

Of course, you felt his watchful eyes and tried not to make your nervousness known. You avoided glancing at his face and the healing scar above his eye.

The never ending guilt harboring inside yourself felt like a heavy mass. You’ve been meaning to talk to Lo’ak, ask him how he’s been, but you failed at having the courage. Seeing him and having his presence alongside yours forced the words out.

“How are you? Are you fully healed?”

Your hands were grinding herbs, a seemingly automatic movement you’ve mastered by now, but your attention was solely focused on him. Lo’ak previously had been staring at the array of wooden bowls scattered on the floor, memorizing their contents to not make his sudden appearance as awkward as it was.

He lifted his head at your voice, “I’m fine, but as you can see,” he ran his fingers over the scar, “I have something to remember it all by.”

You shut your eyes, pained at the memory of that night.

“I’m so sorry, Lo’ak. I wish it never happened.”

He said your name, his voice sounding distressed. Lo’ak looked sick which then turned into something urgent. His ear twitched.

“Please, don’t take offense to this…but you shouldn’t be so nice,” he shook his head, “No, that doesn’t sound right. I mean, you’re too merciful when it comes to Neteyam. You’re too forgiving for your own good. Here you are giving me a more sincere apology than Neteyam over something that isn’t your fault…I thought after everything you’d see…”

He spoke his last sentence softy. Everything seemed clearer to him now.

“I would see what?” You said. Lo’ak bit his lower lip, anxious.

“Don’t you see that Neteyam is different? He’s not the same.”

“You mean his anger issues? I know it’s a problem, but with a little help-”

He cut you off, “Not just his anger…” Lo’ak said your name softly like he was tasked with delivering upsetting news, “I’ve never been serious with someone like you and Neteyam, but I do know right from wrong. The way he just throws commands at you, controls what you do or who you speak to, even the way he keeps tabs on you at all times. Don’t get me started on how he is at home…you know, Kiri made so many plans with you, she was so excited. But every time Neteyam shut her down. Saying how she would put you in danger or he doesn’t like you being away without him knowing. It’s like he doesn’t trust you. It’s wrong.”

Maybe at the start of your budding romance you would have defended Neteyam, hissed or fought with Lo’ak. But things are different, so different, and you take in all his words to heart. You did notice the change to his overbearing, possessive even, behavior and it made you feel naive to only notice it after something bad happened. But to keep you from Kiri? You’re only friend? You felt betrayed. Lo’ak had a point. Neteyam didn’t trust you. It made you feel sick.

“Lo’ak…I tried to convince him that we need a break but he wouldn’t hear it. All we do is argue and I’m just so confused all the time. He makes me confused.”

You placed the forgotten bowl of herbs in your hands onto the ground. Defeat covered every inch of you. Lo’ak let the space fill with silence. He didn’t know how to help you. His brother beat him up before and he didn’t want to do something that caused history to repeat itself. You, on the other hand, took this as a chance to finally confide in someone.

“I love him…or maybe I love him because the Neteyam I fell in love with has to still be a part of him, right? There’s been times when I thought he put on a front. He said and did things that made me feel so guilty, like it was always my fault he lashed out. I was trapped and the only way out was to cave. But there was something so eerily empty in his eyes. They didn’t captivate me anymore but instead made me question his every move, his intentions.”

Your chest felt heavy and you didn’t know if you had the strength to carry the weight. The increase in speed of your pounding heart put your mind into disarray.

“He won’t let me go, ever.”

Lo’ak opened his mouth but the clan abruptly erupted in chaos. People leaving their huts at the noise and jogging past caused Lo’ak and yourself to follow. A large circle was formed and for a second you could catch nothing, only the sound of a woman wailing. Her cries guttural and full of pain rattled you to your core. Your unease grew when clan members from the inner circle began pushing their way out. Some were crying and others had hands clasped over their mouths like they were going to hurl. Curious and worried people dropped the crowd incessantly, running away.

You understood why when you saw it.

Raziel laid in his mother’s arms. Lifeless. The only reason for your assurance on his death being the ripped pieces of his chest and stomach. His insides spewed out and the amount of dark blood everywhere.You stood planted and stared at his mangled body for what felt like eternity. The last thing you saw before turning around was his hand and the empty spots where his fingers should be.

You stare at the ground ahead of you, barely noticing the embrace of Lo’ak. He hurriedly lead the both of you away. The voice of his father trying to comfort the weeping woman in the distance.

Raziel…you didn’t like him one bit but no one deserved to die like that. Upon first glance anyone would assume it was an animal attack, but your gut told you otherwise.

The cuts above his chest were too small, straight, and thin to be claw marks. And his hand…you’ve seen Mo’at tend to a few clan members who barely survived animal attacks and you had a gist of what a bitten off finger could look like. Raziel’s hand looked nothing like that, the cuts were too clean.

You peered into Lo’ak’s eyes and without words he understood.

“He couldn’t be capable of this. He can’t be.”

“Your father is here,” you looked over Lo’ak’s shoulder at the Olo’eyktan, “So where is Neteyam.”

Lo’ak moved his head around the clan searching intensely. While he was distracted, you ran off. You ventured until you were at the furthest corner of the open space just outside the cave’s opening. No one was nearby. It felt strange seeing the outskirts of the cave so empty, especially at this time of day, but the echoing of shouts and crying felt more uncanny.

You called for Ora. Her usually instant arrival was replaced by nothing. The sky was clear of your beloved Ikran. You called three more times. Eyes searching the horizon for any sign of her but you were met with not a single thing, not even a screech from afar. Your gut twisted and your body shook as unwelcome nerves overtook you.

There were overgrown vines alongside the mountain and for the first time you were grateful the clan moved to a cavity closer to the ground. You wasted no time grabbing onto the vines and descending.

When you hit the ground, you traveled into the forest. You weren’t sure what you were doing. This was insane. You knew you were looking for Neteyam, if he was even out here, but you weren’t ready to know what you would find. There was no plan in your head, but your body kept moving. You halted when you found yourself near the lake.

You saw Neteyam before he could see you. You crouched and walked through the trees, trying to get a better view. You only saw the top of his head since he was blocked by the lush greenery. When you hid half your body behind a large tree trunk, you saw his entirety.

He was standing in the water. The once serene shade of blue turned red. Neteyam was cleaning himself of blood. You didn’t know how long he’s been grabbing handfuls of water to wash his dirtied skin, but you could see that the upper part of his body was still covered in splatters of the red substance. Your hand covered your mouth at the sight. It raveled into shed tears and swallowed down cries. Raziel…his mother, father, the clan. Nobody had gotten close to being with Eywa in years.

The amount of mourning to come because of your love, your Neteyam…being in love never hurt so much.

The once clear skies became covered with stormy clouds. The rain that fell onto your face blended well with your tears, but you kept your gaze strong ahead.

The blood and water mixed like two colors on a canvas, and Neteyam was the painter. He did it. There’s no other explanation for him to be washing off this much blood.

Neteyam killed him.

The sudden urge to get away quickly without him noticing made you take one last glance then you turned around. Your legs ached as you were still crouched and heading deeper into the forest. You must have been so clouded with pain and betrayal you stopped worrying about making a sound, a silent escape.

Neteyam whipped his head towards the trees at the sound of a twig snapping. He waded out of the water slowly. He was trained at hunting, it’s his specialty. He knew how to move through the forest unseen and unheard. His movement halted when he saw you standing.

You couldn’t go on with the cramp building in your leg. A simple mistake due to the need for rest that you now had to pay.

Neteyam spoke your name. It was like a gun shot signaling a race to start. You ran.

***

Eclipse had fallen by the time you made it deep into the forest and the downpour of rain had caused you to lose your footing twice. You haven’t run this amount in a while. So, you tracked further until you could no longer take it. You found a low leaf of a tree and hid behind it to catch your breath.

You were not sure how long you’ve been resting but your ears twitched the second you heard slow steps crunching on the ground. You pressed your back into the bark of the tree when he called your name again.

“Don’t hide from me. I don’t like it.”

You closed your eyes and prayed to Eywa that he would tread past you. You should have known better though. Neteyam is a skilled warrior, a hunter. It was incredibly still and quiet as you exhaled slowly to not make your presence known.

Eywa didn’t answer your prayer.

His hand gripped your arm and pulled you to your feet. He took your chin in his hand, tilting your head upwards.

Neteyam didn’t like playing games like this. He tightened his grip, “You’ve been a bad girl…I told you not to come out here by yourself. Why are you here?”

His hand dug so hard into your skin that you couldn’t be released no matter how hard you tried.

“Neteyam, please, let go of me!”

His eyes hardened and narrowed into slits. He had a tiring day and finding you in the forest made it worse. He watched you wander down to his chest. Your own eyes widening at the remnants of now dried blood. Neteyam smirked at the realization.

“Did the clan find my present? Is that why you’re here, to thank me?”

You let the hidden back sobs free. “Why? How could you do something so horrible?!”

“Is defending your honor horrible? He put his filthy fucking hands on you. He wanted you. Raziel would have always been filthy. All I did was a little cleaning.”

You tasted bile in the back of your throat, but dismissed it as you uttered, “I don’t know who you are. You aren’t the man I grew to love. I don’t want anything with you anymore.”

Neteyam laughed, “That will be hard once we’re mated.”

“We will never be mated. It isn’t even a possibility because when your father and the rest of the clan find out about what you did-”

“They won’t though. I may have made a few mistakes, I mean I was blinded by rage, but I have killed countless animals. The clan, and my father, will think of it as only a tragic animal attack. It’s happened before and will likely again.”

Neteyam gently raised his hand to the back of your head, fingers weaving through the depth of your hair. He gripped tightly and pulled. You shouted in pain and looked at him through hooded eyes due to the angle your head was now at.

He closed the space between you with his body against yours, “Besides, there’s no point in you betraying me. No one would believe you. I will always be a perfect son in my parent’s eyes.”

Neteyam loosened his tight grip. His hand cupped your face instead, “And I can’t have the people think my mate is crazy. That is what they’d call you, but we can’t have that.”

The longer you stared at him you knew everything was gone. His eyes that made you feel seen, his words that filled you with joy and complete adoration were now a distant memory. You had grown exhausted throughout this relationship. All the fighting, feeling confused, putting Neteyam’s feelings before your own, and letting all your life’s goals and wishes be crushed down to a mere daydream to keep him happy. It wasn’t worth it anymore. Lo’ak was right. This isn’t what love is supposed to be.

You pushed his hand off and for good measure you shoved him by the chest. “If I have to live my life holding this dreadful secret to myself, then fine. But I’ll do it alone. I’m done.”

Neteyam was offended. He looked at your hands with dislike. His own clenched, nails digging painfully into his skin. How dare you push him away? After all he’s done for you?

“You always have to defy me. Everything I do is for you! But how do you repay me? By starting useless arguments and doubting me. Stop letting other people convince you I’m not good for you. I know you don’t mean it.”

Neteyam towered over you, you’re back harshly hitting the bark of a tree. His tone deep and sinister as he said, “If you ever think of leaving me…think about the disappointment of my parents. I will be the leader of this clan and you are expected to birth my children. They will be heartbroken to see me, their son, without a mate.”

He raised an arm and rested his palm against the bark near your head. He bent down to meet your eyes, “ You’d break Kiri’s heart as well. You’re her only friend. Do you want to see her so alone? Not only would my parents be displeased, but your parents…they would disown you. Their only child in love with the future Olo’eyktan only to break his heart. They would never look at you the same. You would let down your family? Over all this? You would be forgotten. You would never find someone who would give you his entire life and being to you. Not as much as me.”

Neteyam wiped away the never ending tears escaping you, “Stop crying. All our problems are gone now, baby.”

He smiled and his lips met yours. To him it was a passionate kiss. He didn’t mind the feeling of your tears falling onto his face. You felt empty, like Neteyam drained you of everything. You had no more power to fight back, no more strength to go against him anymore. You had become a puppet. The strings that held you up were no match to him. Neteyam held them firmly in his hands and had all the control.

His lips pressed deeper into yours, his other hand grabbing your lower back. When he parted he brushed away more tears.

“Let’s go home.”

Neteyam truly had given you his entirety. Of course, the fact that you weren’t as obedient as he wanted bothered him constantly. But his anger towards you never lasted long.

He woke up that day feeling much clearer than he ever was. The outside forces trying to break through the barriers of your relationship had to be put to an end.

When he climbed up to the part of the mountains where the Ikran’s rested and gave Ora to Ewya or when he got on top of Raziel and ignored his pleas as he ended his life…Neteyam only had one thought in mind.

This is love.

End.

A/N: tbh I wrote most of this with days in between so I’m not sure if it makes any sense at all :) but thank you for reading nonetheless! So sad he killed Ora like how rude.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

I'm still plugging away at my latest chapter. Have some Lydia shenanigans.

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer @paraparadigm @blossom-adventures @rainpebble3 @snowberry-crostata @skyrim-forever @ladytanithia @saltymaplesyrup @throughtrialbyfire and anyone else who would like to participate. Yup, I am tagging YOU.

Left corner. Right corner. Rafters. Floor. Left corner. Right corner. Rafters. Floor. It makes her dizzy just to watch him. She leans forward when she gets no response from him, and the scent of burnt ozone fills her nostrils along with the sound of Ambarys’ fingers tapping—or rather twitching uncomfortably on the bar top. “Ambarys…”

He looks down at her, eyes widened and eyebrows raised almost into his hairline as if he had not noticed she was there despite the fact that he brought both her and Narile a drink. “Just fine, Lydia. Been very busy lately as you can see.” He swipes his arm across the bar, almost upsetting the two drinks he just brought as he indicates the mostly-full tavern. “Everything has been just fine.” 

The bruised veins of his eyes make the red color look even more intense as they continue to dart about until they stop. Finally they settle, attention fixed on the steps to the upper floor as he stares at them in abject horror as if some phantasm would appear at any moment. 

Lydia nudges Narile under the table as her eyes carefully check the room for a threat. She then leans in to whisper in her wife’s ear. “Something isn’t right here, and I am going to find out what. Stay here with your new friends, and if something should happen, go call on Galmar and tell him that there is suspicious activity happening at the Gnisis.”

“But—”

Lydia shakes her head slightly as she gives Ambarys what she hopes is a disarming smile. She doesn’t want him to think that anything is out of the usual for them. “You will stay here. Do you understand me?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her wife’s hear and places a kiss to her neck, lingering there for a moment. “Be good while I am gone, and make some more friends.”

She then straightens herself up and looks up at Ambarys who has since wandered his way to the other side of the bar and has started rewashing the same mug for the third time as his eyes continue to search the room. Something is definitely wrong here and she’s going to find out exactly what, starting with searching upstairs.

As slowly as she dares, she slides off from the stool she is sitting on before ducking her way behind some of the patrons standing in the middle of the room. All the while, her eyes focus on Ambarys. If she happens to get caught, she can just say she was going to the bathroom. It’s adjacent to the stairs to the second floor anyway. However, with the state he is in, she isn’t sure that he would be receptive to her explanation.

The old wooden planks creak ominously as Lydia’s foot touches the first stair, but she dare not look back at this point. Either she goes up now or not at all. As she ascends the staircase, each step she takes echos louder in her ears than the last and she is certain that Ambarys will come running at any moment—but he never does. She reaches the flat of the second floor without any problems. It almost seems too easy. 

Reaching down to the pommel of her short sword, she continues her search carefully. First, her eyes drift around the first corner. Nothing. The second. Nothing. She turns her head around and even checks behind her. Dust, dirt, and depression. As much as the first floor has been remodeled, it would appear that the second did not merit that same treatment.

However, as Lydia continues forward, at the end of the hallway, she finally encounters something interesting. A closed door. She presses her ear against it to try to listen for movement. Still nothing, and when her hand reaches up to turn the handle, it is locked. Divines damn it. She has never been any good at lock picking, and for that same reason, she doesn’t carry any on her person.

Creak. Swish.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato [VAMPIRE ENDING]

Monologue

The very moment,

Father lunged at Ayato-kun,

a bright beam of light flashed up around us.

The one who unleashed this magic,

was obviously Ayato-kun.

ー The scene starts in the entrance hall of the Vibora Castle

*Woosh*

Seiji: Guh...!? 

Ayato: All of you, stay away!

Yui: ( ...Such a strong force... )

Ayato: ...Oi, Kanato. Gimme that knife. 

Kanato: ...What do you mean?

Ayato: Come on, just hand it to me!

ー Ayato snatches the knife from his hand

*Cling*

Yui: Ayato-kun...?

Ayato: Hey, Yui. Listen carefully, okay?

You’ll forever be my ally, right?

Yui: Of course! So... ーー !? 

ー He steps closer and hands her the knife

*Cling*

Yui: ( The knife...? )

Ayato: In that case, I want you to do this. 

Use this knife, and stab me...

Yui: ...! I can’t do that!

Ayato: No buts! Just do it!

...I’m beggin’ you. Please...Put me out of my misery...

I want you to be the one...to put an end to everythin’...

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...

Monologue

As he wrapped my hand around the knife while speaking those words,

Ayato-kun closed his eyes. 

Yui: ( No way... )

( I have to kill him...? )

I can’t do that...How could I ever...?

Ayato: ...

Yui: ( Ayato...kun...? )

Monologue

It was almost,

as if Ayato-kun was crying. 

Even though there were no tears streaming down his face or anything. 

More so than ever before,

he looked pained...as well as sorrowful. 

Always so full of himself and selfish...

Yet, so very kind deep down...

That is the Ayato-kun,

whom I loved more than everyone.

I wanted to see him smile. 

Yet...

I’ve had enough,

of seeing him like this. 

In that case, I will...ーー 

Yui: ...

Okay...If that’s what you want...

Ayato: Yeah...

It’s for the best...

Yui: ( This truly is for the best, right...? )

( This will bring him peace. )

( If that’s what the man I loved more than anyone wishes for... )

*Rustle*

Yui: Ayato-kun, I love you. Forever, and ever...

Ayato: ...So do I, Yui...

Yui: ...Farewell. 

*STAB*

Ayato: Ugh...

*Thud*

ー The screen fades to black

Yui: ( ...Aah, and so... )

( Everything has come to an end... )

*Rumble rumble* 

Laito: ...An earthquake? What’s going on...!? 

*Rumble rumble* 

Ruki: I can only assume...That the loss of the Vampire King is causing a distortion of the Demon World. 

If a successor to those powers is not chosen, then soon enough this place will also...

*Rumble rumble*

ー Kino arrives to the scene

Kino: Phew, good god. Seems like it has finally been done.

Reiji: ...Kino? What are you suddenly doing here...?

*Rumble rumble* 

Kino: The moment I have been waiting for has finally come...

For me to take the powers from the King and rise to the top of the Demon World!

*Rumble rumble*

Ruki: ...You fiend. Don’t tell me that was your goal right from the beginning...!? 

Kino: Ahaha! Too late to realize that now!

I will take those powers... ーー !?

*Woosh woosh* 

*Rumble rumble*

Kino: ...! But how...Uwaaaah!!!!

*BOOM*

Ayato: ...Nn...?

*Rustle rustle* 

Ayato: ...Where am I...?

( It’s pitch black...and there’s nothin’ ‘round... )

...Aah, right. I...

( I died. She used that knife to... )

*Rustle*

Ayato: ( Yui...I did somethin’ pretty terrible to her... )

( I wonder how she’s farin’ all by herself now...? )

( Knowing her, she might just be cryin’ her eyes out... )

...Well, I guess there’s no point frettin’ over it. I’m the one who told her to kill me after all...

...

( Of course, now I know damn well what I should have done... )

( It was such a simple thing too. )

( I should have apologized much earlier...and relied on their help more... )

( Just by doin’ that, all of the pain I caused them...and her...it could have all been avoided... )

...If I could, I would love to go back in time and do it over...

If only that was possible... 

*Flash*

Ayato: ( Hm? Just now, somethin’...? )

*Rustle* 

Ayato: ...Aah, anyway, I’m hella bored. There’s nothin’ to do here after all. 

Guess I have no other choice but to take a nap...Pwaah...

...Aah, right. If this is the afterlife, does that mean the Old Fart is ‘round as well? 

Then I better find him sooner or later and give him a piece of my mind.

...Gotta tell him that his son is one hell of an idiot. 

ー Ayato goes to sleep

Ayato: Nn...

*TIMESKIP*

ー Ayato wakes up in his room at the Sakamaki manor

*Rustle rustle* 

Ayato: ...Nn...Huh...?

*Creaaak*

Ayato: ( This is...my bedroom...? )

ー Yui enters the room

Yui: Ah, Ayato-kun! You’ve woken up!

ー She runs up to him

Ayato: ...Chichinashi? Why are you here...!? 

Yui: Why, you ask...? You don’t remember? 

Ayato: Eh? No...How should I put it...

( The fuck...? What’s goin’ on...? )

Yui: You nearly blew up the whole manor with those powers of yours, remember? 

But you somehow managed to hold them back at the very last second...

You really are something else! Even Reiji-san was impressed that you managed to control those powers yourself!

But as a result, you lost consciousness...

Subaru-kun and the others carried you to your room...

Ayato: ( What is goin’ on...? I kept my powers in check...? )

( I thought I let them flurry out on control and blew up the manor two whole times...? )

( Am I dreaming now...? Or maybe...? )

Yui: ...Ayato-kun? Are you alright? Don’t tell me you feel unwell in some way...?

Ayato: No, I’m fine but...

Say, Chichinashi. This might be a weird question but...

How many times have I nearly blown up the manor now? 

Yui: ...Eh? Well, this was the first time, obviously? That’s why I was so shocked...

Ayato: ...

( ...Just like I thought. If this isn’t just a dream, then... )

( Time...has rewinded...? )

Yui: ...Hey, Ayato-kun. Did I say something stran...?

Ayato: Yui...!

ー He suddenly embraces her

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Ayato-kun!? What has gotten into you all of a sudden...?

Ayato: ...What do you mean? Nothin’. It’s just...

I’m just so glad you’re here with me...

( I’m sure all of this was made possible because... )

Yui: Ayato-kun...

Ayato: Hey, listen...I’m never makin’ the same mistakes ever...

Yui: ...

Ayato: ...Yui?

...Oi, why are you cryin’...?

Yui: Um...I don’t know why exactly but...I...

Ayato: ( Could it be that she vaguely remembers...? )

*Rustle* 

Ayato: Don’t worry...

I won’t do anything that’d make you sad...never...I promise.

Yui: Yeah...

Monologue

In what followed, I took initiative,

and personally asked Richter to become my mentor.

Of course, Reiji and my other brothers,

looked incredibly surprised,

but all of the stuff that guy taught me,

was actually pretty useful in one way or another. 

It was also Richter,

who told me I should this Kino guy working together with the Church,

out of the way sooner rather than later. 

To be honest, these powers I inherited from the Old Man,

are a bit much for me to control, even to this day. 

That’s why I’ve decided,

not to use them unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

Until that day,

when I will have to step up as a King in order to protect someoneーー

ー The scene shifts to the living room at the Sakamaki manor

Ayato: Hm? A Familiar? ...Who is it from?

Reiji: It would seem...That it’s from the Demon World. 

Ayato: Hm. Must be those Mukami’s then. Maybe somethin’ happened at Eden? 

*Flip*

Laito: Let’s see...Hmm. Seems like that isn’t the case. Seems more like an observation diary of some sorts.

Ayato: Haah? An observation diary? What do you mean? ...Give that to me!

*Rustle* 

Ayato: The leaves of the World Tree...Hmm, I see...

Hehe...They’re losin’ their minds again over some fallen leaves.

Reiji: Apparently Eden has been somewhat unstable ever since Father’s passing. 

Laito: They’re making such a big deal over a couple of fallen leaves...

Reiji: Well, if that is the only problem they have to deal with, they should actually be glad instead. 

After all, Ayato is the successor. Personally I feared for much worse...

Ayato: Aah!? What do you mean by that!? You Four-Eyes!

...Hmph. Guess I have no other choice. I suppose I can go check up on Eden sometime in the near future...

ー Ayato walks away

Laito: Heeh, despite everything, he’s grown to behave sort of like a King, hasn’t he? ...Ayato-kun, I mean.

Kanato: Almost as if he became an entirely different person. ...I wonder if he ate something which had expired? 

Reiji: I am quite surprised about it myself. 

...But, well, Father personally chose him as his successor.

ー The scene shifts to the forest

Yui: ( Eden...It has been a while, hasn’t it? )

Ayato: Oi, hurry up! This way!

Yui: Y-Yeah...

ー Yui runs after Ayato

Yui: ( Anyway, I wonder why Ayato-kun dragged me all the way over here...? )

ー The scene shifts to the World Tree

Ayato: Hmm, I see...I guess the tree looks a lil’ barren.

Yui: You think so...?

( Such a large tree... )

Ayato: Che, I don’t like this. Kinda feels like I’m losin’ to that shitty Old Man...

Yui: What do you mean?

Ayato: Eden can change a lot depending on who’s the King. 

Eden looks more run down than before ‘cause I’m not quite fulfillin’ my role as its King yet...

Yui: ...I see.

But you’ve been trying really hard as of late, haven’t you? Everyone’s saying it too? 

Ayato: Really? 

Well, I did mess up to the point of no return once already after all. 

Yui: ...

( I wonder why? I should have no clue what he’s talking about but... )

( For some reason, it sounds so very reasonable to me. )

Yui: ...Hey, Yui. I...

I’m gonna give it my everythin’ and one day, I’ll become a formidable King, surpassin’ even that Old Man of mine. 

So I want you...to be there by my side until then. 

Yui: Ayato-kun...

...Of course. I’ll be with you forever. 

Even after you’ve become a great King, for eternity...

Ayato: Yeah. That’s a promise. I can take your words for granted, right?

Yui: Yeah, sure. 

( I would never lie about that. After all, I... )

Ayato: Yui. Come here. 

*Rustle* 

Ayato: I love you. More than anyone else in this world. 

I won’t let you go until death parts us. ...No, scratch that. 

Even if one of us dies (1), I’m not givin’ you up. Better brace yourself, okay? Nn...

*Smooch*

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ...

( I’ve already long made my resolve. )

( To be by the side of my beloved, forever...Because this is where I belong. )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Since the Japanese language does not specify pronouns in most cases, it actually isn’t clear here if he refers to his own death or Yui dying, hence why I phrased it this way.

[lifetimeshipper]

Optimus' Human Partner: Transformers Prime Season 1

Chapter 3: Darkness Rising Pt. 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Jack arrives at work on his bike, he gets off the bike and looks up at the building before letting out a sigh. "Nice bike." Jack turns around after hearing the voice from behind him, he sees Arcee and Natalie sitting there.

"Really dude, you're pedaling to work when you could be riding a motorbike?"

"You two, really Miko already tried. Tell Optimus that I respect him big time, but if you're at war with the Decepticons, there's nothing I can do to help."

"Optimus didn't send me and nobody's asking for your help."

Natalie gets off Arcee, "I mostly just came to see if the food here is any good," she says as she walks towards him. "There are many ways you can help, Jack. Besides, you are crazy to give up a one-time chance to be one of the only civilians who are in on a government secret." Natalie walks past him to head inside the restaurant.

"Look, Jack, I just lost someone I cared about. Maybe it's the grief talking, maybe you're growing on me. Whatever it is, I'm just not ready to say goodbye."

That seemed to do it as Jack decided to return, but before he could climb onto Arcee Natalie came out of the restaurant. "Never mind, it's gonna take too long. There are a few customers inside and it's taking them forever to serve them. I figured I better leave before Arcee gets a demonstration on how humans fly." She gets onto Arcee, "Sit behind me, kid. I don't sit behind anyone."

Jack gets on, sitting behind Natalie, and the three head back to base. When they arrive they see the other Autobots getting ready to head out, "Autobots, prepare for departure," Optimus commanded.

"Where to?" Arcee asked in confusion.

"The final frontier," Miko replied.

"Space?" Jack questioned, "I thought they didn't have a way to get there."

"They don't, really," Raf responded as Bumblebee carefully placed him down on the ground.

"Um… Be seeing ya?" Jack asked as he looked up at Arcee. Arcee just smiled at him before walking away to join the others.

"Be careful, Optimus," Natalie said with concern evident in her voice.

Optimus smiled down at her, "I will be."

"Optimus, if you leave me stranded on a planet teeming with humans, I will never forgive you," Ratchet says as the others head for the Ground Bridge he just opened up.

"He's just having trouble showing how much he loves us," Natalie jokes. Ratchet just glared at her.

"Until we meet again, old friend," Optimus says before covering his mouth with his face shield. "Autobots, roll out!" They all transform before driving through the Ground Bridge.

~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie listened as the others talked about how the Decepticons had sustained damage to their interstellar navigation system followed by the belief that Megatron found an alternate way to connect to Cybertron for this plan. The satellite dishes are the only thing that could pinpoint Cybertron. She laughed when Fowler started yelling at Ratchet thinking he was a soldier out of uniform.

Raf mentions that if he could somehow get in he could stop the Decepticons from taking control of the dishes and Jack got the idea to go directly to the place where he could get access, but Optimus didn't like the idea. "The risk is too great, the Decepticons will be there, perhaps even on site."

"Optimus, with all due respect, you said it yourself this is bigger than the safety of three humans," Jack stated with a determined look on his face.

"Yeah, if we let the 'Cons win we're fragged along with everyone else on our planet," Miko added.

"And besides, I'll be going with them so they will have some form of protection," Natalie speaks up.

Optimus goes quiet for a second as he thinks it over before saying, "Raf?"

"I wanna give it a shot," the young boy responded.

~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie and the kids exit the Ground Bridge at the base where the satellite dishes are, right outside the building. Natalie was the first one out of the Ground Bridge and she was already heading towards the building, Jack, Miko, and Raf exited the Ground Bridge after her and they had to take a moment to steady themselves as their heads were reeling.

"That's gonna take some getting used to," Jack says as the three grab or rub their heads.

Natalie stops walking and looks back at them, "You'll get used to it eventually."

"How long did it take for you to get used to it?" Jack asked her.

"I think I pretty much got used to it after the second time."

Once the three were able to steady themselves, they looked at the building before running towards it and Natalie followed them. Surprisingly, they were able to get into the building with ease. Where were the soldiers that were supposed to stay guard in this place? Something about this doesn't sit right with Natalie.

They make it to a room where they can access a computer and Raf gets to work, Miko looks out the door to make sure nobody is coming before closing the door. "Security sure is lax in this place."

That's what's not sitting well with Natalie, it was too easy to get in. "I'm in," Raf announced, "And so are the Decepticons."

"What?"

"How can you tell?"

"Schematics, with the same alien math we saw on their ship. But this time, I can download it," Raf said as he brought out his portable hard drive.

Natalie furrowed her eyebrows as she glared at the computer screen that was showing the same schematics they saw on the Decepticon warship. Are they doing it from their warship or is one of them here? She ended up zoning out where she could no longer hear what the kids were discussing, a sense of dread gripping her. Something's not right.

She shakes her head and comes back to her senses as she finally hears what the kids are discussing, "The dishes are heading back toward Cybertron, I'll just undo that again."

"What happens when the 'Cons realize they're being punked?"

"It's only virtual combat, you know like online gaming."

"Yeah, Jack. What are the 'Cons gonna do? They are probably like a thousand miles away."

Natalie could hear a noise coming from behind them and she turned her head at the same time Jack did to look at what was behind them. She sees the metal appendage as it attacks Jack, picking up him and Miko and throwing them around the room before throwing them into a wall. Natalie managed to dodge it and get out of the way, she slid on the floor underneath it to get out of the room. She ran down the hall to the room at the end where the appendage was coming from and she could see the Decepticon in the room. Soundwave. The second most dangerous Decepticon there is.

She runs into the room and stops at the doorway, "Soundwave!" She shouts to get the 'Con's attention. She looks around at the unconscious soldiers lying around the room. That explains the lack of security.

Soundwave looks at her, he knows who she is, all the Decepticons know who she is. They had an encounter with her and her team when they first arrived on Earth, all alien beings that come to Earth have to deal with her and her team before anything else. Becoming Optimus' human partner is another reason the Decepticons know who she is, being his partner puts a big target on her. They would for sure try to do something to her just to get to Optimus.

The other appendage shoots out from his side to strike her but she dodges it as she pulls out her sword and brings it down onto the appendage, hitting it. Soundwave pulls back his appendage, surprised that the sword was able to do damage to it. The other appendage starts coming back, holding an axe. Soundwave swings the axe at her but she blocks it with her sword before trying to slash at the other appendage, but Soundwave moves it out of the way.

Natalie uses the skills she's learned to dodge and block all of Soundwave's attacks while trying to fight back. She jumps onto the appendage and tries to run up it to get to his upper body but it proves to be more difficult than she thought. She sees one of his servos reaching over to grab her and she jumps up to dodge it before bringing her sword down to slash the servo that was trying to grab her. Soundwave ignored the pain in his servo as he grabbed the sword, the other appendage shot out and grabbed her, wrapping its tendrils around her body, before slamming her into the wall.

Soundwave examines the sword in his servo, somehow this thing can do damage to Cybertronians. How were these primitive creatures able to create such a thing? He looks over at Natalie who is trying to get free from the tendrils that are holding her firmly against the wall, her team is not to be underestimated.

He breaks the sword before throwing it down, "Stay out of our way," he says with a mixture of audio before electrocuting her and throwing her to the side. He made sure the dishes were locked onto Cybertron before cutting the hardline. The kids run into the room and see Natalie passed out on the floor while Soundwave gets ready to leave. He looks back at the kids and Miko takes a picture of him, and he takes a picture of them. He then transforms and flies off.

The kids run over to Natalie to see if she's okay, "She's just unconscious," Jack says with relief.

"That's a relief," Raf says as he turns to look at the other side of the room.

"So, why did the 'Con leave?" Miko asked.

"He cut the hardline," Raf said as he pointed to the axe and the cut wires. "The dishes are now locked onto Cybertron for good."

~~~~~~~~~~

The Autobots managed to blow up the Space Bridge and put an end to Megatron's plans. Arcee was shot at by Megatron and her life signal was low but she pulled through. After all of them were back at base and it was confirmed that Arcee would be just fine, Optimus looked around for Natalie, he grew worried when he didn't see her.

"As you feared there was a Decepticon on site," Ratchet starts explaining, "Soundwave was there and Natalie tried to fight him but he electrocuted her. I Ground Bridged her to the hospital so she could get some medical treatment."

Optimus is worried but he's comforted by the thought that Natalie is at the hospital being treated.

[lion-hearted-wolf]

Ok I have this list of headcanons about Chrissy and Eddie and their new life together far from Hawkins, so I'm going to write all of them down because Chrissy lives AU is my new canon and I don't accept anything different: - Chrissy likes sewing. Like, a lot. Eddie was usually the one who repaired clothes and things, but after seeing how eager to learn she is, he gifts her with a secondhand sewing machine. - After struggling a bit against all those gears and levers she finally wins and starts repairing their old clothes, then goes on and creates new ones for both of them. The very first garment she sew is a bandana, out of an adorable piece of fabric with printed smiling Jolly Rogers - rewarded with a kiss and so many you're so good Chris, you're so talented this is AMAZING - then a summer shirt for him (with a band patch on the back, ofc), then some scrunchies for herself.

- She becomes more and more skilled everyday, and Eddie loves spending his free time from work at her side doing something else while she's sewing. The sewing machine noise almost relaxes him. - They've started to listen to music together before leaving Hawkins, but Eddie still records cassettes for her with all his all time favourites and classic metal hits. They love chilling in their small living room, cuddling on a patched sofa (covered with a huge Iron Maiden flag), the cassette playing on the stereo Eddie bought with his first salary, Chrissy's head against his chest while he tells her every little fact about those bands, their first singles and which members passed from a band to another. She carefully listens to him, as he's telling her some secrets no one has ever known, some kind of incredible tale or myth just for her.  - Eddie also recorded a cassette with his personal recommendations and comments between a song and another, but since he usually gets carried away by what he's doing forgetting all the rest, there are some "mmh, I remember this one" and "OH NO wrong song, let me change side no no no st-" here and there, but it's adorable and Chrissy can't stop giggling while listening to it on Eddie's walkman, headphones on, lying on their bed and waiting for him to come home.  - And Eddie really likes singing in the car. Every single trip, even the 10 minutes ones, is a perfect chance to sing something out loud, from Chrissy's favourite Whitney Houston hits to Like a virgin, to big classics like I Want to Break Free He sings the whole songs, the vocals too. Chrissy can't help but joining him every time.  - Eddie's first birthday gift after they moved from Hawkins is a Fleetwood Mac record, Rumours. The cover is a little scratched and definitely not brand new, but Chrissy hugs him super tight, eyes full of sparkles. They end up slow dancing to Songbird, Eddie's arms around her petite frame, his soft, brown curls brushing against her skin. "You know, I think I'm becoming a fan," he whispers against her hair. Chrissy smiles like it's the loveliest thing he could ever say.  -  During spring and summer Chrissy sleeps in one of Eddie's oldest shirt, the one with the Metallica's Ride The Lightning cover. It's worn out, the blue has faded and some holes are no longer fixable, but she loves wearing it. It smells like Eddie's skin, old leather and smoke, and those donuts he's always bought for her when she sneaked through her window to come visit him.  - They're big fan of stargazing. Eddie joined the astronomy club's activities when he was in middle school and Chrissy became soon a big astronomy nerd too. One of their favourite summer activities is lying together on a beach towel in their small yard or in the pic-nic area near the lake, looking at the stars and trying to identify them. Chrissy doesn't know much about constellations, galaxies and stuff, but she always looks forward to listen to Professor Munson, banished, Dungeon Master and Astronomy Enthusiast. Head on his chest, she looks at the stars he points out, secretly thanking anyone who's listening for her brand new life. - When they're still in Hawkins and Will and El come back for a visit, they throw a D&D Night/Party at Mike's place. Eddie wants her to join and Chrissy's hyped as a child because she never took part to something similar, but she's so nervous she keeps asking Eddie about what to wear and what to say, because she's afraid of ruining something or annoy them. Eddie surprises her with an Hellfire Club shirt, identical to his but with pink sleeves, and Chrissy proudly wears it while sitting next to Eddie, super curious about the whole experience and peeking from his shoulder while he does his DM magic. -  Obviously the day after she's still super hyped and asks Eddie to help her building her D&D character because she absolutely want to join, and that's the story of how the Hellfire Club got a new member before moving to another state (but they stayed in contact with the old gang, so every now and then they visit each other and play during winter and summer holidays). 

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Buff Batmom reaction when she found out Joker killed Jason

Buff Batmom as Black Death going on a bloodthirsty killing rampage killing criminals even innocent civilians. Just so she can murder Joker.

Buff Batmom beating the shit outta Joker for murdering her little boy

Jesus, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. I can’t imagine what their reaction would be seeing Batmom revert back to old habits and start killing again after Jason death.

I feel like Bruce could feel it coming. That it was going to happen.

He'd seen her break down when she found out what happened to her little boy, how she was an emotional mess for the days following. Dick had come home, and Bruce just watched as his wife sees her oldest who looks so much like Jason, and just immediately crumples again, and Dick just lets her cling to him and sob, knowing that she's partly doing it to try and pretend he's Jason, at least for a second. The funeral comes, and it was then, as they lowered the casket into the ground and Bruce turns to check on her, that he sees the little glint in her eye. Like a spark. He knew she was ready to kill again. For her boy.

She didn't do anything at first. She becomes mostly quiet, doing simple tasks at work and at home, not really conversing with anyone. Everyone can tell something's off, Alfred is worried she's having a nervous break, Dick's worried about his mom's mental state and tries to spend as much time as possible with her, but Bruce knows what she's doing. She's plotting. She's going through what she wants to do in her head, step by step. Fantasizing.

Then she snaps. She's seemingly aware of her husband's own awareness and goes off at the perfect time where when he realising that she's gone, it's already too late. Dick is the first to notice his mom isn't at home, and he tries calling her first, and after a short text back assuring him she's fine and that she loves him to the moon and back but being off still, he informs Alfred who informs Bruce, and he immediately tells Alfred to keep Dick distracted at home, not to let him listen to any news reports or the radio, and to instead convince Dick that Bruce had contact with her and she's gone to get her emotions out (technically not wrong) and he's going to go comfort her, and to prepare a nice meal for her for when they get back to show she's loved. At this point Alfred, knowing batmom's past realises what's happening and agrees.

By the time Bruce finds his wife, she's slaughtered her way through his little hide out, and she's done with Joker. He isn't dead, proven by his heavy breathing and very faint laughter when he was able to gain consiousness for a few seconds every few minutes, but you can't see his green and purple suit or hair in the dim lighting because it's all been dyed red from his blood. Black Death sits against the furthest wall. He ignores the mad man, walking over to her and just kneeling in front of her. In the faint light he can see the tears rolling from the eye sockets of her mask.

"It doesn't feel good. It doesn't make me feel better... he took my baby. He took away one of the things I never thought I'd have... what if someone takes Dickie bird? I can't... I can't lose my... my boys... my baby Jay..." She sobs quietly, and Bruce doesn't say anything. He just wraps his arms around her, muffling her sobs and carefully helping her up and leading her out.

He gets her out of the costume and into civilian clothing he brought with him, as well as for himself before taking her home. She's still a mess the entire time, but when they get home and Dick rushes to his mom's side, saying how he was worried sick about her, telling her how he and Alfred made her favourite, and demanding she take a few weeks off work to properly mourn and relax with her family, she just nods, before looking over at Bruce.

"Thank you." She manages to get out. To this day, he's not sure exactly what she was thanking him for. For forgiving her for her past actions, or this 'slip up'? For giving her this domestic life, or as close as she's able to get? For not telling Dick about the real monsterous side of his beloved mother? For loving her unconditionally and being a true saint of a husband? He wasn't sure, and he didn't care. For him, she didn't need to thank him for anything.

[laz-laz-ace-pilot]

In The Shadow Of His Brothers

Chapter Eleven of In The Footsteps Of His Enemy

...

  “You need to stop getting hit on the head,” the medic told Echo sternly. “Or you’re going to be looking at a lifetime of concussions and brain damage, and then you’ll be no good to anyone.”

  He turned to Hevy, also sporting a nasty bump above his temple.

  “That goes for you too! You’re supposed to be elite soldiers-”

  “It was Echo’s fault!” Hevy said indignantly. “He said I had worse aim than a droid!”

  “You do,” Echo muttered under his breath, but before Hevy could react, the nat-born in charge of their care picked both four year olds up by the scruff of the neck and deposited them on separate medical beds.

  “You two are brothers! You need to start acting like it-” the medic began, then froze. Echo listened out, Hevy momentarily forgotten. It sounded like there was some sort of commotion outside the medbay; raised, panicked voices were approaching quickly. The medic hastily shut the medical curtains around their beds just as the doors hissed open.

  “Quickly! Get him over here - what did Fett think he was doing?! Taking a child out on a job!”

  “He’s training him to be his successor-”

  “He won’t have much of a successor if the boy’s dead!”

  “Just get him fixed up before he comes back; I don’t fancy having a Mandalorian breathing down my neck!”

Echo and Hevy exchanged a look. Fett? As in   Jango Fett  ?! Their   Template ?! And the boy… they had all heard rumours of the unaltered clone that Fett had kept as a son. That had been part of the payment…

  Carefully slipping down off the bed, Echo sneaked around the medic and parted the curtains just enough to peek through. The figure on the bed looked so small, just as he and his brothers had looked two years ago. Echo couldn’t see what was wrong - had he been shot? Trampled? Broken bones? He could barely imagine what sort of things the boy might have faced in the worlds beyond Kamino.

  A hand gripped his shoulder; the medic quietly but firmly pulled him away and back toward the beds.

  “Leave that alone, that’s none of your business,” he whispered to the two cadets.

  “He’s a brother though - didn’t you just say we should look out for our brothers?” Hevy argued in a whispered tone.

  The medic cast a nervous look back at where, beyond the curtain, more people were rushing to the Fett boy’s aid, before looking back at them.

  “He’s not like you; he’s a real person. You might have the same face, but that boy is nothing like you and your brothers…”

...

@imrowanartist @ameanstoanendor @lovebugglow @nighting-gale17 @itsstrangelypermanent @aflightysparrow  @british-hero @generaltano @partoftheeternalsoul @dreamingofcreation @rt-d00-t @tazmbc1 @theedwardianone

If you would like to be tagged in updates either message me or comment on this post - I’d love to add you!

[cw-imagines]

42 - Kai Parker

[Reader is a Mikaelson, but despite that, she's a little Angel. She met Kai in high school, and they were dating, but no one knew she was an Original hybrid (Klaus' twin), she never killed anyone, she tried to save him, and got stuck in the prison world with him. When Damon comes in, he sees one of his exes with the porkrind munching freak. After they get out of PW, Reader goes back to her siblings, annoyed with Kai for leaving Bonnie there. What our little hybrid doesn't know is that She was pregnant with Kai, when her werewolf side was unleashed by Niklaus through the ritual... (She left with Damon, not with Kai, sorry) And when he gets out, Kai wants to find her, but he doesn't know where... By the time he does, she is already a few months along, and she's angry with him. Kol and Klaus try to kill him, because he fell in rage when he found out she was carrying twins and then you pick what happens next.]

++++

"For the last time Klaus, I'm fine." I huff, looking at my very over-protective twin. Even though I'm ten minutes older, he treats me like I'm a baby.

Klaus stares at me for a few more moments but shrugs in defeat. "Very well Y/N, just I'll be listening to see if anything-"

"Klaus." I take ahold of his shoulders and chuckle. "I'm a big girl and it's high school, I think I'll be okay."

His lips form a line. "I'll be waiting in the car after school." I nod and he nods, kissing my forehead before he walks away.

I shake my head at him and finish putting my books into my locker, hearing the bell ring to indicate that class is soon to start. I tut and close my locker, jumping when I spot a figure leaning on the lockers besides mine.

I clutch my books close my chest and raise a brow. It's a guy, he doesn't speak but instead just rests on the lockers; his arms folded and a grin on his lips.

"Can I help you?" I ask, breaking the silence between us. Everybody else has gone to their class so we're the only two left the hallway.

His eyes lifts up to meet mine, his eyes are an amazing colour. Come to think of it, he is rather attractive. "You probably could in a few ways." He winks and I look down at my feet to hide my blush that threatens to show. The guy stretches over, carefully taking ahold of my chin to make me look back at him.

I know my face is bright red and I bite my lip with nerves. "I'm Kai, Kai Parker."

I sheepishly smile. "I'm Y/N." I squeak out, clearing my throat and Kai chuckles. "Y/N Mikaelson."

++++

"Kai." I hiss, raising my eyebrows when I see him climb into my bedroom. I put down my textbook and sigh. He stumbles into my bedroom and I laugh, walking over to him. "What are you doing here? Klaus is going to kill you if he finds you here."

Even though most of my siblings like my boyfriend, Kai, and get on really well with him. Not to mention we've been together for almost a year. Klaus always appears to be out for his blood and doesn't approve of our relationship.

I crouch down and kiss his forehead. He smiles and wraps his arms around me. "I missed you, Y/N."

My heart swells and I wrap my arms around him. "I missed you too." Kai holds me a little tighter and I wonder if something is wrong. "Is everything okay Kai?"

He huffs. "Family." Is all he mumbles, burying his face into my neck. I run my hand through his hair and kiss his shoulder. Kai doesn't speak a lot about his family but I know they have some issues.

He holds me for a few moments until letting me go and looks at me. He runs his hand down my cheek and I smile. "I guess you're staying over again."

Kai looks at me as if I'm insane. "Of course i am, so move over." He throws him onto my bed and i sigh when my textbook goes flying onto the floor.

"Watch my stuff, Parker." I warn him. He blows me a kiss and i roll my eyes. "Can you at least help me study for this test tomorrow?"

"Aren't you like a thousands year old?" He asks me, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you both to study?"

"It's nice to refresh my memory." I shrug. "It's interesting to learn new things and see how things have changed. You wouldn't believe the kind of science they were teaching a hundred years ago."

"You're such a nerd." Kai teases, poking my cheek. I swat his hand away and he just laughs, pulling me on top of him. "But you could teach some things, you know with being so old."

I laugh. "You make sound like a cougar."

Kai smiles. "Well i mean, i am only-"

"Do not remind me of your age." I cover his mouth with my hand and he laughs. I smile and move my hand to kiss him.

++++

"Y/N!" I spin around and see Kai, i hurry over to him but stop myself when i see what is on his clothes. "This isn't what it looks like?"

"Kai." I point down at his hands. "Is that." I pause and look at his face. "Is that blood?"

"Y/N, it's not what you think-"

"Who's blood is it Kai?" I question. "What have you done?" I push his chest. "What have you done?"

"Stay quiet!" He hisses and grabs me by my shoulders. My eyes widen in horror at the look in his eyes.

"Kai." I say in a quiet voice, he no longer looked like the man i had fallen for.

"I'll explain everything, just get out of here before-" He trails off when a number of flashing lights appear to circle us. "Shit, we've got to get out of here Y/N."

"What is happening Kai?" I ask when he grabs my hand and pulls me with him, only for more flashing lights to appear around us.

"Listen." He looks me in the eye. "Everything is going to be okay, we are going to be fine."

"That's enough Kai." A man's voice says. Kai stands up straight and covers his eyes slightly as he looks to see where the voice came from.

"She isn't apart of this, let her go."

"You know what has to be done Kai." Another voice says, this time a woman. I span around and my eyebrows rose when i hear chanting emerge from all around us.

"Kai." I say in a worrying tone.

Kai put his arms around me. "Don't let go, Y/N." He says before a blinding light appears in front of us and then darkness.

++++

"I understand why you insist of cooking so many pancakes." I say to Kai, when he throws more pancakes into the kart. He shrugs. "You do realise I don't need food."

"But i do and these are my favourite meal, beside you." He winks and i blush, turning away. He laughs and we continue to walk down the empty store.

After a while of walking down the store, Kai grabs a bag of pork rinds, i cringe. "Kai you know i hate those things." I say, covering my nose. "They smell so bad."

"Y/N, they're so good though." He shoves the bag in my face and i gag, shoving his arm. He laughs and throws more in his mouth, while pushing the kart.

"Why couldn't we have been a prisonworld without them." I huff.

"Maybe my coven loves me a little." Kai jokes and i smile but it fades when i hear a bang from the other end of the store. Kai stops chewing and the two of us exchange a look.

"What was that?"

"Y/N how would i know?" I frown and he grins, setting aside his food. "Let's check it out."

I take ahold of his hand. "What if it's someone dangerous?"

"Y/N, you're a Michaelson and I'm me." Kai beams. "I know you don't kill people, but maybe today you pop your cherry."

I roll my eyes at his unfunny joke and we walk over to the source of the noise. Kai stays ahead and keeps his hand in mine, as we peer around the corner. "I'm a vegan Damon, i can't eat this and i said kale not lettuce." A familiar voice says.

My eyebrows raise and i move closer to get a better look. "Bonnie, you've been a vegan for two days, before that it was vegetarian than-"

"Damon?" I say without thinking, moving into view. Kai looks confused and the two in front of us turn around at my voice. It's Damon and Bonnie. I smile, seeing familiar faces. "Damon." I say with a smile. "Bonnie."

"Y/N." Damon says with a growing smile. I smile even wider. "Oh my god, Y/N." He rushes over to me and hugs me, i hug him back and take in his warm embrace. Bonnie appears beside him and pulls me in for a tight squeeze.

"Y/N, i can't believe it's really you." She says. "What happened to you? Everyone thought you died."

"Klaus?"

"He's doing a lot better, he has Camille." She assures me and my smiles fall as i miss my brother dearly.

Kai clears his throat and we all look at him. "Damon and Bonnie, this is Kai. Kai this is Damon and Bonnie, old friends."

"We use to date." Damon says with smirk. I send him a look and Kai raises a brow.

"Decades ago." I add quickly. "Kai is my boyfriend and aren't you dating Elena?" Damon nods.

"Kai Parker nice to meet you." Kai says with a smile.

Bonnie fuses her eyebrows together. "Kai Parker, why does that name sound familiar?" She looks at Damon, who shrugs.

++++

"How could he do that?" I say between sobs, nearly falling down onto my knees. Damon catches before i hit the ground and i cry into his chest.

"Y/N, we have to go and don't worry Bonnie is strong." He moves my hair to look me in the eyes. I'm not sure whether he is telling this to himself or me. "She is going to be fine."

I nod and he forces a smile. "Let's get you home, I'm sure your siblings will lose their shit when they see you." I dryly chuckle and nod, standing up straight. Damon wraps his arms around me and we begin to walk.

At last, we reach my house and Damon stops the car. We found one on our way here. I look at the house with pure joy. Damon and i get out of the car and i nearly fall over from rushing to the door. I knock it as hard and loud as i can and Damon stands beside me with a smile.

"Klaus get the door!" I hear Kol shout from inside.

"That lazy son of a bi-" Klaus stops speaking once he opens the door and sees me. I feel my eyes water again and Klaus' jaw drops in awe. He stumbles back a little. "It can't be."

"Who is-" Kol trails off when he comes to the door and looks at me as well. "Y/N."

"Hi." I say, a tear falling down my cheek. Klaus reaches over carefully to put his hand on my cheek, he taps it gently and i laugh. "It's me Klaus."

"Y/N." In seconds, I'm in a bone crushing from Klaus and it grows even tighter when Kol joins the hug. "After all these years." Klaus says when the hug ends. "You're here, tell us everything."

"I will, but first let me say hi to the others." My brothers nod and welcome me inside. I look back at Damon, he is smiling. "Damon, do you want to come in?"

"I'd love to, but I've got to go and see someone." He smiles even wider at his own words and i nod, it is obvious that he is in love with Elena.

"Don't be a stranger." I tell him.

He winks. "Never, Y/N." And with that, he walks back to the car and Kol closes the door while Klaus ushers me to the sofa, his hands in mine.

"My sister." He says with a smile, kissing my forehead. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow. I look at him and open my mouth to speak when he shh's me and puts his hand to my stomach. "And another heartbeat." He pauses once more and his eyes double. "Two heartbeats."

"Two heartbeats" Kol repeats, looking from Klaus to me. My jaw drops and i put my hand to my stomach, listening myself and hear the faint heartbeats.

"Heartbeats." I say, looking at my brothers. "It's twins."

++++

"Any names yet?" Rebekah asks me, while she brushes her hair. I look at her in the mirror while sitting on her bed. "And are you going to find out the genders?"

"I still have no idea and no i want it to be a surprise, although having a girl would be amazing." I rest my hand on my stomach, where my bump has grown drastically over these last few months.

Rebekah hums. "If its a girl, can you name her Becky or maybe Becca?" She turns around to face me and shrugs. "You know after her favourite aunt."

I stare at her and she laughs. "Of course not, I'm not desperate for names. I've already had Kol, Klaus, Nic, Elijah and Freya or Faye be a suggestions."

"Can't blame for trying and besides those names are awful, at least mine suggestions were good." She replies. "Isn't it still shocking that the dear of angel one is the one to get pregnant and with twins." Rebekah laughs. "I'm so lucky I'm not a hybrid like you and Klaus, no birth control needed."

"Thank you." I say sarcastically. Rebekah smiles and sits besides me on the bed.

"Can i?" She holds her hand over my stomach and i nod. Her hand runs over my stomach, feeling for any kicks. One of the babies kicks slightly and Rebekah laughs with a smile. "Hello little ones, this is your favourite aunty Rebekah speaking who is going to spoil you both rotten."

I smile and my mind wonders to Kai, it's been a few months since Damon and I escaped the prisonworld and I've asked Freya to try and contact Kai but her magic hasn't work each time. I'd give anything for him to be here and be apart of our babies lives, part of me is trying to hold onto hope that he will magically reappear but the another part is facing reality that i may never see him again.

"Thinking about Kai again?" Rebekah zaps me out of my thoughts. I look at her and nod, she sends me a warm smile and puts her arm around me. "I didn't know the fellow well but i knew that he was crazy about you, and that he used to sneak into your bedroom most nights."

"You heard him?"

"I used to see him climb into your window, i even once gain him a boost." We both laugh and i rest my head on her shoulder. "It is nice to hold onto hope that he will come back and maybe he will, you did after years of being gone, but there has to be a point where you move on Y/N. I'm not saying this to be horrible, I'm saying this because it is the healthy thing to do."

I nod slowly. "You're right, maybe in time i can find the strength to move on from him."

"Of course you can, you're stronger than you think Y/N." She tells me. "But i can still win in a fight, don't forget that."

"I can beat you right now, pregnant with twins." Rebekah laughs.

"Believe me i would hold you to that, but i wont for the sake of the little ones." I just hum and she scoffs. "Don't act all-" Rebekah stops speaking when we hear a noise from outside. She stands up and moves in front of me. "Stay behind me."

"Rebekah i can handle myself."

"You're pregnant Y/N, just stay out of this and keep safe." She hisses at me. I sigh but nod, keeping close behind her. there are more noises and suddenly her bedroom window is smashed open. Rebekah covers me with her body, so no glass touches me. "What the f-'

"The front door was locked." A voice says and my eyes widened in surprise. Kai scrambles into the bedroom and stands up, adjusting his clothes.

"You could've knocked!" Rebekah yells and footsteps emerge up the stairs. Klaus and Kol appear in the bedroom, clearly hearing the noise.

"You." Klaus and Kol say.

"Kai." I say, appearing from behind Rebekah. Kai smiles at me but it fades when he looks down at my stomach.

"Pregnant." Is all he says and his eyes double. "Two heartbeats."

I nod and smile, fighting my tears. I step closer to him, none of my siblings stop me. Kai appears frozen and puts his hands on my shoulder. "What's wrong?" I ask him, clearly confused.

"You're pregnant." He repeats. "With twins." He inhales sharply. "It can't be twins Y/N?"

I look at him, even more confused. "Why not?"

Kai shakes his head. "There can't be two Y/N, twins will mean that one of them can take over my coven and I'm not risking that again." I take a step back from him and Kai pulls out a knife.

"Kai!" I yell, Klaus and Kol dive at him and hold him back before he can even blink at me. "What is wrong with you?"

"I've worked too hard to get the power i deserve Y/N, I'm not letting it go and this is the only way." He says, struggling in Klaus and Kol's restraints.

Tears fall from my cheeks as i look at him. "Kai."

++

[end of the imagine, hope you all enjoyed]

[wdghost]

hey! My name is Krys and I am the mun behind Ghost/Kim Yonghwa! I am an rp ancient, but really excited to be here and play this man! I am completely open to plotting and have a discord if that would make things easier. Let me know and we can get that figured out and together. 

Below are some quick details about this fae....

The name that he legally goes by is kim yonghwa, but it is not his true name. that has been lost to the ages and something he has yet to speak to anyone that is still alive into this century. Commonly, among other immortals, he prefers to go by ghost. A nickname that he has had for centuries and he is more comfortable with it.

Ghost is a man of few words. Due to the nature of fae, he is careful with words when he speaks. More often than not he chooses to say nothing rather than struggle with making sure what he is going to say is carefully truthful. Commonly he is blunt to the point of cruel at times and often crass. But the silence is more common than anything. Often communicating with his eyes and face more or a non-committal ‘mmm.’ To acknowledge that he is listening.

His gift is that of water, due to his age, well over 1,000 years old, he has a strong control and understanding with his element. He does not often speak of it, but he could be found close to the sea. The biggest body of water around the island. Storms for the island crops are very common due to him paying attention to when it is needed and when it isn’t. ghost is careful with using his natural gift but when pushed, he could make the ocean roar to even greater heights if he wished.

As kim yonghwa, he works at the local university. A history teacher. His specialties are the old kingdoms and wars that took place. Not just wars in korea, but around the world. Unknown to most, unless they had seen his collection, he is always an antique dealer and finding. Specifically, he haunts down weapons of all times and sells them or trades them for other things. The wall of his office lined with various blades and items that once were used to fight in some battle or another.

Ghost doesn’t totally keep up with the times. While he finally has electricity in his beach side home, he doesn’t often use it. Preferring to use flame to get things done. Candles for light. Fire to heat water and cook. There is only one room in his home that the electricity is utilized and that is the office he put together for potential online courses he may have needed to teach. It is decorated with items that clearly speak of who he is and what he teaches.

Most often, friends are far and few between. He has grown far too used to those he befriends dying. For some time, there has been an effort to not get attached to those that could die. Due to his more solemn nature, he doesn’t often get along with the younger fae or most fae in general. Still, he tends to find himself paying attention to them. If they were to ask for help, he would be hard pressed to ignore it. The few friends he does make and keep, he would do violent things for if required. 

Teaching has only come up recently, within the last two years. previously he was a bit of a hermit among the folks around him. His glamour always tight across his skin and not moving. He looks rather warm and calm under that guise. Shaggy dark brown hair and soothing eyes. Nothing like his true form that he hasn’t shown in sometime time, to anyone.

He has only been on the isle since the late 1800s. before than he travelled the world. Seeing people, he had never seen and learning languages he had never known. While there are some things in history he has had to relearn over time. His memory has never been totally perfect, languages are something that have always seem to stick. Each one unique and over time, they have become something he truly enjoys knowing and using when possible.

Potential plot ideas! 

For those that are immortal and older, they could have potentially run into each other previously. Ghost has been around for over 1,000 years and has travelled much if not all of the world. It allows for a lot of possibilities when it comes to meeting other immortals. Also, these immortals are more likely to have seen his true form which is something we can totally talk about if this happens in our plotting! 

For those that are young, since he has been on Jeju since the late 1800s, there is a chance that he has been there the entire time they have. For a good portion of that time, he was much more a hermit than an active member of society but there were would have been times someone could have caught him the ocean or enjoying a good rainy day. In truth, he wouldn’t have spoken to them much at first, but over time, would probably warm up. 

For any university students, this would be your well known history professor. a man you would know as kim yonghwa. He is known as a good teacher. passionate. But times he has put a lightning strike of fear into people due to his incredibly blunt nature and intense stare. Even with all of that, he is known to have open doors to his office and is willing to work with people when need be. Just need to  be brave enough to approach him. 

For those involved in the conflict, Ghost is known to be a very neutral party. It isn’t often he will even allow conversation of the conflict if they are trying to get him to do something within it. But, he has been paying attention, despite his want to keep his nose out of it. He came to this island for peace and quiet. Not something that the conflict fosters. It worries him...

I am open to other ideas! These are just some potentials that I could think of. 

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Coming Home: Part 2

Hm...Well, that’s great...

Komaru: What’s wrong?

I’ve been down here for 2 minutes and I’ve already found a dead body...

Komaru: What!?

Look.

*Everyone peers through Akeru’s earpiece. She stands in front of a gravestone shaped like a dog. The name on the dog reads “Lara.”

Kyoko: Looks like Yodogawa buried his dog here...I didn’t expect he’d be a pet person...

Kuripa: He kept a dog down there? No wonder it died.

...

*Everyone goes quiet.

Kuripa: What!?

Maya: That’s pretty sick man.

Kuripa: I’m just saying! Would YOU keep a dog trapped down here!? You’d suffocate it before long!

Zen.

Wah-!? Ugh! Stop doing that!

*The hologram appears once again in front of the grave and starts to stroll around the garden.

I just thought you would like to kn-know, the front-ont door is l-l-locked. It r-requires some time for activation.

Ok...well...Activate it.

Of course. What is the code?

Uuuuuh...

Aoi: Damn! Of course NOW we have passcode protection.

Uh...didn’t you say I had dementia? How am I supposed to remember the code?

If I recall correctly, you said you it was the code on the wristband.

Wristband?

My wristband? If you’d like a reminder, I believe you left it over at the gazebo.

Oh...ok... Gazebo it is.

*Akeru and the hologram go over to the gazebo.

Also, I just thought I’d t-tell you; I’ve reconstructed some-GRRGCK-past exp-experiments you might like to revisit. I hope they-they-they-KKCH!-enhance your experience.

Are you good bro?

Byakuya: He’s bugging out. What’s going on? And what does he mean “past experiments?”

Show me one of these past experiment reconstructions or whatever.

C-Certainly.

Woah!

*Akeru is suddenly hit with bright lights. The fake sky around her suddenly starts shifting, and light is cast down on the gazebo.

What the-!? Are you guys seeing this?

Four: Seeing...still working on believing.

Makoto: What’s going on? What’s it doing!?

*Everyone waits for a second until the shifting stops. Then, suddenly, two hologram figures appear inside. One stands up and looks at the house, a figure who’s unrecognizable. The other is Yodogawa himself.

...Take me inside...I’m tired...

Aoi: Why’s it acting like that?

Byakuya: Actually, I don’t think this is the house AI. It appears to have began some sort of...data reconstruction.

Toko: I get it. It’s showing us events that happened here a while ago. This is the REAL Seishi Yodogawa, or at least...a memory of him.

Let’s stay in the gazebo a little longer. Don’t you think it’s nice to be home?

Komaru: Who the heck is THAT guy?

I don’t know. The AI didn’t properly reconstruct him.

Makoto: Listen carefully Akeru. This could be important.

This place...Listen to me Zen. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me up until now, but this place isn’t my home. It never will be.

I’m sorry you don’t like it old friend. It was quite a project.

Well, you wasted your money.

So...YOU’RE this Zen guy...Now what relationship did you and my father have?

I must ask. Why would you go through so much trouble for such a foolish enterprise?

Let’s just say that it’s not easy to find people in my line of work this day and age. Tragedy time, sure, but now the world is recovering and...I guess I’d rather focus on what I’m good at rather than what Precepts Peak made me.

*The blue hologram sits down next to Seishi’s.

Look. I know you’re scared. I would be too. But I will not leave your side until you’re better. 

Better? Better...!? What, so you know more than the doctors? Zen...I have Grade 3 Brain Cancer. There IS no getting better.

Grade 3...!?

Rgh...Bloody wristband!

*The reconstructed Seishi starts crying, tugging on the patient wristband. However, against expectation from anyone, the other mysterious figure, Zen, suddenly cuts the band off using a pair of garden clippers.

Wh-What are you doing!?

You’re sick and tired of the hospitals and doctors, right? Well, there are no more of them in your life...I’M taking care of you now.

What...do you intend to do?

You’ll see.

*The hologram reconstruction suddenly ends.

Komaru: Oooh...I’m not liking that...

Toko: Yeah...gonna be honest? Starting to have REAL BAD feelings about this “Zen” guy.

Makoto: But wait, did you guys see? Zen cut off the wristband. Maybe it was left here?

Ah right! I see it!

*Akeru picks up.

Seishi. Open the door to the house please.

Sure. What is the code?

4532.

Makoto: Oh...

What?

Makoto: Sorry, for a second there I thought it might be...

Byakuya: 11037?

Makoto: I mean it USUALLY is.

P-Password accepted. House unlocked.

Sweet. Guess I’ll go in.

Kyoko: Be careful Akeru. The more we find out, the less I like.

...

*Akeru steps inside the house. It’s dark, save for the light that pours in through the window. The living room she steps into is suspiciously cozy.

Byakuya: Take a look around. See if you can find what 404 wanted us to find.

Alright...

*Akeru walks around the living room, but doesn’t find anything, but then she sees an offshoot of the room. She walks into it and finds a small garage full of bits of technology.

Well, I think I found the part that Yodogawa was using as a lab...

Kyoko: Hm...I believe Seishi’s AI did say that it was used here. But I’m not sure. This seems too small to be a lab used to create AI technology.

Byakuya: And...what might THAT be?

Makoto: What?

Byakuya: Don’t you see it? The gigantic pane of glass leading into something dark?

...?

*Sure enough, the room is divided by a big sheet of glass, with the area behind it being poorly lit. Akeru approaches the glass and peers inside.

...

I think something’s in there-

RAWRGH GRARGGGH!!!

AAAAAAAAAHHH!?

Komaru: AKERU! GET BACK!

Makoto: A BEAST MONOKUMA!?

Toko: Hold on! We’re coming down!

No wait! 

*Everyone stops.

Rrrrggh...

I don’t think it’s hostile...I think I just scared it.

Aoi: Are you crazy!? It’s a Beast Monokuma! They’re designed to ravage everything they see!

Kuripa: No, wait! She might be onto something! Look!

*Everyone takes another look through the earpiece.

...

*The beast sits down quietly and stares at Akeru, not making any further attempts to attack her.

Kuripa: Besides, even if it is hostile, I doubt it’s getting past that glass. Yodogawa must have kept it here for a reason.

Makoto: But why would Yodogawa have a Monokuma in his basement?

Kyoko: ...

Aoi: Kyoko?

Kyoko: I have a theory...but I don’t like it...We can test it though.

Byakuya: Test it? How?

Kyoko: Akeru. I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to do me a favor.

Go ahead.

Kyoko: Approach the glass...Call the Monokuma... “Lara”

Makoto: Lara?

Maya: That’s Yodogawa’s dead dog, isn’t it?

Four: Kyoko...You’re not saying...!?

...Lara?

*Akeru attempts it, placing her hand on the glass.

...*whimper*

...!?

*The Beast immediately calms down, pressing it’s paw against the glass casing.

Kyoko: So it’s as I thought...

Komaru: Wait...why did it react like that!?

Toko: Did Yodogawa create an Alter Ego of his dog and put it a Monokuma?

Kyoko: ...I don’t think so...it’s something much...MUCH worse...

...

Seishi!

Y-Yes Zen?

Reconstruct another scene for me. I want to know what happened to this dog!

Of course. Beginning experiment reconstruction.

*The AI drifts back out into the living room. Akeru swiftly follows. The two holograms from before appear again.

Seishi, I promise you, the Neural Mapping procedure is completely safe! You’re being far too paranoid!

What is WRONG with you Zen!? I said NO! And that’s final!

*Seishi sits on a sofa, but gets up on a pair of clearly unhealthy legs to yell at Zen further.

I’ve been to the garage! I’ve seen what you did to Lara!

Lara is alive and well!

You call that ALIVE!? You took her brain and put it in that MONSTER! 

Where the hell do you get these TWISTED ideas Zen Katagiri!? If you plan on “curing” me through something like that, then forget it! I will NOT become another one of your sick creations!

Sick? SICK!? You think I’M sick!? Well how do you think I became that way Yodogawa!?

Zen...Listen to me. This is NOT your decision. If you really wanted to take care of me...You’d listen to my requests...

...

*The hologram closes.

!!!??

*After it does, Akeru rushes back into the garage and towards the Beast Monokuma behind the glass.

*whimper*

WHAT THE FUCK!?

Komaru: Akeru! Watch the language!

Kuripa: To hell with the language! This is some psychotic serial killer shit!

Aoi: Yodogawa really killed his own dog to turn it into this sick creation of his!?

Makoto: Hina! By now you should have realized that Yodogawa isn’t the one doing all of this!

Byakuya: Agreed. This other man - Zen Katagiri - He’s our true mastermind.

Aoi: But we haven’t even heard of this guy up until now. Who IS he!?

Maya: He’s fucking insane is what he is! No normal person could do THIS to a living creature!

Four: I agree...To make matters worse, Lara clearly doesn’t want to be in that body. I wouldn’t either.

...

Guys...I’m sorry, but...

Makoto: What’s wrong Akeru?

I’m about to do something you guys might not like...

*Akeru suddenly goes over to the battery panel near the doorway. She flips it and looks at the mains.

*sigh*

Byakuya: Are you gonna-

Kyoko: Shh.

...

*Akeru reaches over to the levers and switches one off.

*whimper!* Grrr...Ruff! ...

*A few seconds after she does, the Beast Monokuma stops moving.

...There there...Good girl.

...*sniff*...Good girl.

Kuripa: You’re a brave soul kid. 

Byakuya: Agreed. Not many would be able to do what you just did.

Toko: Akeru...

Makoto: This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be subjecting her to this stuff.

Uncle Koto, trust me...I’ve seen worse.

Makoto: Have you...!?

Well...alright...it’s damn high up there on some of the worst stuff I’ve ever seen, but...I’ve got something even worse on my mind.

Komaru: What is it Akeru?

If Katagiri did this to the family dog...

...What the hell did he do to my father...?

[prismartist]

Scott had watched Jimmy walk away from the castle, the glass fogging from how close he was to the window. Ren’s hand on the back of his neck, he heard him say with smug satisfaction, “Remember Arascoth, you are the only one who can awaken the crystal. If you keep the promise, you too will be free.”

Once he had left, and the door locked behind him, Scott buried his face in his hands and let quiet tears roll down his face. 

Now, he still sits by the bay window, watching the lights in the town turn on and the grass rustle under the nighttime breeze. He feels numb as he stares, his mind filled with nothing but regret and loneliness. Before on the airship, Scott hadn’t minded much, as solitude wasn’t a stranger. But now, having known someone who was willing to care for him, the emptiness sits heavier, and so does the ache. 

Perhaps in an effort to comfort himself, Scott’s mind drifts to an old memory, back when his grandmother was still alive. Scott, a young child at the time, was sobbing on her lap, the absence of his parents getting to him. Not unlike now. His grandma had stroked his hair calmly before saying, “You know, Scott, I was just thinking to myself. Even if you’re alone, there’s a way for you to protect yourself. Perhaps it’s time for me to teach you a little spell. One that will keep you safe, and help you when you’re in trouble.”

Scott sniffled as he looked up. “A spell?”

“Yes. These are old, secret words, so you must not share these to anyone, understood?”

Scott nodded. 

“Good. Listen carefully, hén, it goes like this: Le natha nin dhadhnardcha i aladh.” The words were hard and foreign to Scott, yet he was too entranced by their sound to properly listen. They almost sounded like stones, pebbles clacking against each other, but in a way that was comforting.

“Le nata n- neyin- uh.”

“Do not stress too much, it takes time to properly learn this language.” His grandmother laughed. “But it means, ‘Help me rekindle the light’. And I hope that when you most need it, it will. Now, let’s try again.”

Scott mouths the words, wondering if it would sound just as magical as when he heard his grandmother speak them for the first time. It is a bit of a silly thought, admittedly, since Scott knew it probably wasn’t a real magic spell. But it is worth a try, isn’t it? It would be nice to believe, anyways. 

“ Le natha… nin dhadhnardcha i aladh. ”

The shine comes immediately. 

[two-am-outlines-only]

Leave Old Legends Lie

Summary:  When Remus coerces Logan into pulling a prank with an old folktale surrounding their local woods where they’ll be camping, Logan can’t find it in him to say no. despite his slight misgivings he finds the idea of scaring his husband Janus and son Virgil with something as simple as a ghost story and a thrifted fur costume rather exciting- until the “fake” ritual goes a little too well, and Logan learns just how important it is to respect legends better left alone.

Warnings: mild sexual innuendo, swearing, disturbing imagery, blood and injury, mild violence, spells and curses

Ships: Intrulociet (Remus x Logan x Janus) 

Word Count: 4, 775

AO3 Link

“Remus don’t do that, you'll crack your head open.”

Remus glanced up at Logan, watching him sort out their snacks for a moment before peering behind him at the freshly fallen leaves cushioning the ground. “Unless the leaves have murderous intent I think I’m fine Lolo- though wouldn’t it be funny if I fell into an eldritch portal and cracked my head open on one of their rocks?”

“No it wouldn’t, only partly because then Virgil would be afraid of falling through portals not cracking his head open.” So saying, Logan nudged the back of his son’s chair to settle it on all four legs, making the budding emo pout into his jacket. “Be a good influence. That includes not spraying hairspray into the fire this year and before you say anything I’ve already found and confiscated the cans.”

“What? No! That was one time and it turned out fine! We had fire extinguishers and we were by the river!”

“No.”

“Remus you have side jock from a horror movie syndrome and that is not a compliment.” Janus drawled from the other side of the clearing.

“Janus I thought I said Virgil and I would gather kindling-”

“Low blow Jannie I thought you’d give me more sex appeal than that-”

“Ew gross!”

“Remus language!”

“Oh yes Remus, language, because our fourteen year old son certainly hasn’t heard of sex appeal-”

“Can we please,” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose even as he struggled to hold back an amused smirk. “One camping trip. Just one, where everyone behaves?”

“No- pah!” Popping the p Remus leaned back once again, immediately tipping over and sprawling on the ground. The clearing was silent and then a lone snort from where Janus was still standing set Virgil into a fit of giggles and letting Remus fill their set up with howls of laughter. Rolling his eyes Logan went over and nudged Remus to the side, setting the chair upright and trying his absolute best to prevent his shoulders from shaking with his own laughter.

“One trip.” He muttered with a smile, making his way over to the truck to dig out their sleeping bags and flashlights for the night.

-----

Logan held the literal monkey suit with an air of distaste while listening carefully for anyone curious that might try and come up behind him. He and Remus had planned this a month ago- rather Remus had coerced him while bouncing so excitedly Logan could hardly get a word in edgewise- and had agreed that a spooky camping trip should have a scare at some point during the night that they could laugh about later. Thus the plan was that they would tell a scary story that was “real”, pretend to go to sleep and then Logan would sneak off and change and come back to scare Virgil and likely Janus. His only hope was that Virgil didn’t go into fight mode and decide to tackle him since the cold was already doing absolutely no favors for his back and he didn’t fancy an adrenaline fueled teenager tackling him onto piles of frosty leaves while wearing a scraggly gorilla suit.

He glanced up at a faint rustling of leaves, brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of a small black cat sitting by the back tire. Granted they weren’t exactly in the middle of the woods so it wasn’t that much of a stretch that a domestic looking cat would be out. Shrugging, he gave it a polite nod and turned back to the suit before sighing and stuffing it back into his sleep bag before gathering up the bag of marshmallows. Feeling eyes still following him he glanced back at the cat and nearly dropped the bags when it closed its eyes and nodded back. A very pronounced up and down tilt of its head and then a light sneeze, turning to groom its back while Logan stood wracking his brain to figure out if cats normally nodded at strangers.

“You still good for tonight Logan?”

This time Logan did startle hard enough to drop the bags, whirling around and shoving the sleep bag behind him before registering it was Remus. “Remus, please don’t sneak up on me. What if you had been- a bear or something?”

Remus cocked his head and looked down at the bags. “Then it would have had a delicious dessert, and then marshmallows as a midnight snack.” Winking at Logan's heated face he hopped up into the back bed of the truck and poked his cheek. “You good? Don’t tell me you’re already spooked, this is going to be the best prank we’ve pulled in years!”

Logan smirked. “Yes I can’t wait to figuratively scare them out of their pants.”

“You don’t have to say figuratively. I doubt in this cold Jannie’s even taking his pants off to pee.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Though I’d take mine off for you Logan.”

“Remus, you're going to smash the marshmallows.” Logan pushed his face away with a snort, leaning over to pick up the bags.

“Know something else I’m gonna smash-” Logan’s face heated once again as he felt a light tap at the small of his back, standing up just in time to see Janus making his way towards them.

“Remus, stop flirting with my husband and help Virgil start the fire...safely.”

Pouting, Remus jumped down and reached over to cup Logan’s cheek. Smiling into the touch, Logan closed his eyes in exasperation when he felt one of Remus' affectionate licks on his cheek rather than a normal kiss any other person would give. “My husband too.”

They watched as he dashed over to the campsite, squatting beside Virgil who was currently trying unsuccessfully to strike the flint hard enough to create a proper spark. Turning back around, Logan smiled ruefully at Janus who was currently leaning against the tail light with an eyebrow raised to him. “What were you two planning over here?”

“A great camping trip with my lovely, lovely family.” Logn sniffed indignantly and shoved the marshmallows into the bag with the crackers and chocolate they had brought for smores.

Janus squinted but said nothing, grabbing up a bag of jerky and tearing it open without breaking eye contact. “Mhm.”

“Mhm.”

“Seems we have a familiar.” Pulling the bag over his shoulder Logan looked to where Janus was nodding to, spotting the same black cat only a few feet away. “Mm. It’s been spying on us for a while now.”

Janus took a slow step forward, tearing a bit of the jerky apart with his teeth and tossing it to the small shadow, who promptly turned its nose up at it and sauntered off deeper into the trees. “Indignant little thing. Cats can eat jerky right?”

“It probably filled up on squirrels earlier, just don’t let Remus or Virgil see it; they'll want to take it home.”

Janus snorted, resealing the bag and taking up another bag with blankets before nudging the trunk closed with his elbow. Looking up he frowned. “Is it getting darker faster than it should be or-?” Logan too, looked up at the sky, seeing the thick treeline rapidly darkening with the sinking of the sun, clouds moving in a way more reminiscent of horror movies than reality. Shaking it off he simply shrugged. “Must‘ve spent more time over here than we thought- come on before Remus turns our son into an aspiring arsonist earlier than we predicted.”

They hadn’t walked a dozen paces before Virgil jumped up excitedly and pointed at the now merrily crackly campfire. “Dad!!! I made fire!!”

Janus snorted and nudged him playfully. “Think we were a bit late on that one Logan, remind me not to buy hairspray for a while.”

Remus’ head snapped up immediately and pointed at both of them accusingly. “One time!!”

-----

Virgil laughed as another marshmallow exploded from the heat of the fire, turning into sticky tar that coated the wood and burned sickly sweet until it disintegrated to nothing in the heat. Remus grinned and stuck another one that he had roasted in his mouth, crunching down on the completely burnt ball that could have been more stick than treat for all he could taste. Logan winced as he slid his own just-the-right-amount-of-crisp-thank-you-very-much-Remus onto his cracker and carefully placed the chocolate on top, letting it melt a bit before adding the other cracker and sighing as another marshmallow exploded.

“Let them have their fun dear, they're both idiots but you also encouraged Remus to microwave a marshmallow last week to see what would happen so you really have no room to say anything.” Janus whispered quietly while eating cold smores so he didn’t get chocolate everywhere.

Sniffing indignantly, Logan brushed the crumbs from his lap and tied up his bag, making sure to seal it so animals wouldn’t be tempted. “Whenever you’re finished eating burnt sugar Remus, didn’t you have a story you wanted to tell tonight?”

Remus stared at him blankly, stick still held in his mouth until he swore and spit out his latest abomination, throwing his stick in the fire with a huff. “Sure. We need to sit a little away from the fire though, since the story is also,” pausing for dramatic effect and glancing at Virgil. “A ritual.”

“I’m sorry a what?” Janus sat up a bit. “Remus what did you do? You know we don’t mess with spirits in this family.” “Relax Janus, Remus talked with me about this a while ago. It isn’t going to summon anything and it’s actually quite interesting.”

Janus turned to squint accusingly at Logan. “Oh he cleared it with you did he? Is that what you two were conspiring about earlier?”

“No,” Logan replied patiently as he scooted back from the fire and dragged the snacks back with him. “Remus was being Remus earlier and talking about tapping my-”

“Ask you later got it- Logan honestly you got on Remus earlier for his language and our son is right there.”

“Yeah guys I’m right here.” Virgil chipped in absently from where he was trying desperately to wipe marshmallow out of his bangs.

“Smartass.” Logan muttered but handed Remus his stick to draw in the dirt with. “Besides I was already reading the books on the subject for fun so Remus came to me with questions. And we modified the “ritual” so even if it could hypothetically work it wouldn’t. We took superstitions into account, love. Don’t worry.”

“You say as your husband is currently carving a sigil around our fire.”

“Why is he only my husband when you disapprove of something he does?”

“Because I married two idiots sharing one brain cell and whenever you’re the one carrying it you use it to encourage the one scientist in our family without an actual degree!”

“Done!” Tossing the latest stick into the fire as well Remus took his perch on his folding chair, squatting instead of sitting and wiggling his eyebrows ominously. “We ready to get spooked and learn how to protect ourselves from the local forest cryptid?”

“We have a local cryptid?” Virgil perked up with interest, making Logan smile in triumph. He was glad to know his son was still interested in things like this, even though Logan found it a bit silly especially combined with Janus’ superstitions.

“We do! I found it in one of your father’s books and it has an entire horror story surrounding it and everything!”

“Remus-”

“Relax Jannie we aren’t actually going to summon a demon we don’t have all the materials here for it anyway...well I mean we do but we aren’t gonna use ‘em all it’s fine. Anyway, I found that in this very woods, there lives an ancient creature whose name has only been whispered in fearful respect for centuries since it was released. One with such malice and want for destruction that it had to be turned against itself to be defeated. Stories dared only to be passed down in hidden tomes and word of mouth- about the legendary Firepaw.”

“Firepaw?” Virgil interrupted with a smirk. “That sounds like a five year old named a monster they drew in daycare and wanted it to be cool enough to hang on the fridge.”

Remus shot him an unimpressed look. “You follow at least sixty blogs revolving around Bigfoot, I think you can suspend your disbelief for Firepaw.”

“Hmph.” Burying his reddened face in his hoodie, Virgil mumbled into it spitefully. “It’s fifty-two, I only follow the good ones.”

“Stand me properly corrected and chastised.” Remus deadpanned and shifted to lean back more. “May I continue?”

“Hmph.”

“Firepaw used to be one of the more benevolent demons of the time, being summoned for warmth and safety when there was little to be found in a harsh, undeveloped wilderness. A great beast wreathed in flame, it brought great comfort to those who summoned it and inspired fear only in those who didn’t understand its purpose. For centuries the locals of the woods lived in peace with it as their protector in the lush green woods they had chosen for their home.”

Virgil was leaning forward with interest now, as was Janus Logan noted with amusement, as Remus’ animated storytelling skills painted the picture around them.

“It’s said that there had been unrest between neighboring settlements for some years now, fights for territory and resources as greed overtook compassion. So one fateful night, when the wind blew cold through the trees and fires whipped around restlessly in their stone prisons, there was a group who summoned Firepaw for their own gain. Two sigils were carved deep into the ground that night: one to summon and one to seal. The beast rose from the flames, tail still and head high as the guardian of the forest...and then the second sigil burned bright.”

Remus threw bits of wood from his pockets into their fire, making everyone jump in their seats as they flared out for a moment, brightening the area around them while wild, flickering flames. Logan startled and squinted into the darkness, sure he had seen something glitter like eyes behind a tree, but the flames calmed before he could focus. Leaning closer to Janus he tried to shrug it off; a cat being around didn’t mean anything, it was just a stray drawn to warmth but too shy to come closer.

“Tail lashing in irritation and then anger the great beast roared- the first time it had ever done so in all the time it had been summoned. The flames that consumed it grew brighter and hotter than they had ever meant to be, claws growing like roots digging into the earth as fangs dripped from it’s open jaws like icicles from the trees. Never was it meant to be tamed by man- let alone attempted to be controlled, and in their hubris the group foolishly thought they could be the first. The only reward they received that night was the mercy of a quick death as the flames burst forth too quickly for the thought of escape to even cross their minds. Both sigils burned brighter still, then disappeared completely, the seals broken to leave the beast to roam free. In a fit of rage it bounded through the forest, turning trees to hollow ash in seconds and the wind carrying embers to others to spread the destruction as far as it could reach.

“The forest burned as the beast raged, killing and destroying everything in its path. To this day the birch trees that make up this forest are still darkened and cracked from the untamed flames-”

“Oh! They’re actually black birch and the reason the bark is so dark is because-”

“Logan, it’s a story. You can science it up when we get home I promise.”

“Right, apologies.”

“You’re okay. But the real reason they’re so dark,” Throwing a playful wink to his husband, Remus continued. “Is because of the warpath Firepaw led that night. Nothing was left save for a small settlement smack in the middle of the trail it was blazing. Everyone else had long since fled and most likely been consumed by the surrounding flames, except one person who stood and waited while the beast gouged the earth with its claws and threw trees from their roots with its lashing tail.”

“Why were they just standing there?” Virgil asked from the edge of his seat.

Remus shrugged. “Maybe they had already accepted their death and wanted to see if they could do anything before they died. Maybe they couldn’t run. Maybe they were crazy, who knows? What the legend does say is that Firepaw raged its way right in front of them and stood infuriated that they hadn’t moved an inch. Instead, they held their hand to the monster's snout and through the flames placed it gently enough to snap it to its senses, even as the person burned in front of one of the last standing trees. It’s anger finally calmed but unable to reverse the destructive it had caused or cool the flames that consumed its forest, it turned the curse onto itself, and burned away to nothing.

“The forest grew back from the ashes but kept it’s jinx as it grew, turning all the trees black and leaving the final clearing where the guardian and its last victim had died.”

“This clearing?” Virgil and Janus both asked with slight panic in their voices.

“This very clearing!” Remus grinned wide. “Now they say the beast’s spirit wanders the woods, sometimes in the form of a black cat as it’s true form had burned down to all those centuries ago- but sometimes in the form of one of it’s victims, black as pitch from head to toe and running through the trees in remembrance of that fated night. And they say it can still be summoned with it’s sigil-”

Here Remus stood, putting a toe to the dirt and completing one final line of the design he had previously drawn around the fire, taking delight in the look of horror on Virgil and Janus’ faces.

“A fire to represent its original purpose,” Here he threw another handful of wood bits and sicks into the fire, making it flare up brighter than before. “And something sweet to symbolize it’s last stand against the stranger who had either the bravery or stupidity to reach out- and Janus you ook about ready to faint it’s just a story.”

“A story you found in an old book with a very detailed description of a forest spirit- complete with a summoning sigil and instructions!”

“Janus I assure you even if it was meant to work it wouldn’t.” Logan laid a comforting hand on Janus’ arm. “We didn’t put anything sweet into the fire to actually summon the thing, roasting marshmallows doesn’t count.”

“You know I don’t mess with this stuff-”

“Is it actually true? I had never even heard about it and I’ve looked up tons about the local area-”

Logan looked over to where Virgil was currently grilling Remus about the story, who was doing his best not to bust up laughing and answer with a seriousness their later prank needed. Leaning closer to Janus, he whispered quietly, “It’s mostly to pull a prank on Virgil later as a bit of fun for Remus. Also our son has been gaining an interest in these things lately and we know how you are with superstitions so I thought this may discourage him from actually trying anything in the future.”

Janus huffed out a laugh. “Of course this was mostly Remus’ idea. Is that what the gorilla suit is for?”

“You know about that?”

“A father knows everything including what his husbands get up to at three in the morning when they sneak out of bed and drive to the store no where near an anniversary or holiday.” Janus smirked and lightly shoved him. “You’re both idiots but I love you anyway. Just don’t hurt yourself running through the woods alright?”

Logan smiled ruefully. “That is the plan, yes.”

-----

“Remus. Remus, are you awake?”

Logan huffed as all he received was a snore in response. Of course Remus would fall asleep before the prank he had planned was executed- erratic sleep schedule be damned Logan wasn’t cutting him slack for this one. If he wanted to sleep then he would just have to be scared along with Virgil and Janus- even though he had a feeling Janus was probably lying awake waiting for him so he didn’t get startled awake like Virgil and could play the cool dad. Rolling his eyes fondly, Logan stepped away from the sleeping bags and around the dying fire. It was nearly three in the morning at this point as they had stayed up quite later after Remus’ story exchanging tamer ghost stories until Virgil started nodding off.

All he had to do was go a little ways into the woods and run out yelling like a madman until the trick seemed to go on long enough and then he could go to bed. A fairly simple operation provided he could see in the dark and through the rather tiny eye holes the suit provided. It didn’t matter- he’d be in and out before anything bad could actually happen. Shrugging absentmindedly to adjust the suit he carefully twisted on the head and made his way into the trees.

The further he ventured into the trees the more the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end despite the uncomfortable warmth the suit provided. He could hardly see in the darkness and yet the unmistakable feeling of eyes raking over his back was unmistakable- he knew it was most likely that damn cat stalking him again, no accounting for any kind of subtly as it had continually watched from the shadows even far into the night when most creatures would be either hunting or sleeping. As long as he didn’t trip over it when running he decided not to worry about it. If the cat wanted to watch him sprint through the woods like an idiot well- he supposed someone should witness the start of his descent into madness at the hands of his puppy-eyed husband.

Deciding he’d gone far enough, Logan turned around and with one last adjustment of the suit began to run back to camp, yelling nonsense at the top of his lungs and trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all the whole time. Breaking the treeline he could already see Virgil sitting up terrified, jumping onto Janus’ sleeping bag and screaming in terror as Remus began to cackle from his own. So much for playing it up. Slowing down Logan quieted and lowered his arms, jogging forward and already waving his arms in surrender when his foot caught something soft and small, hurling it forward with his momentum and straight into the fire.

No one spoke. No one dared breathe as the cat curled up in the flames as they grew taller and brighter, burning hot enough for a horrified Janus to scramble back with a silently screaming Virgil in tow, Remus right beside them as Logan could only stand and watch.

The cat stood.

The surrounding woods grew darker yet darker as the flames grew higher and the distorted shape in the flames began to grow along with them. It stretched to the limits of the sigil and then oozed past them, singed claws digging trenches in the earth and shadowed tail whipping hard enough to fan the flames that consumed it. Its great head lowering towards his family cowering still tangled in his sleeping bags finally snapped Logan out of his shock. Taking up the suit head he hurled it at the monster. It burned to nothing the instant it touched the flames but caught its attention nonetheless, eyes running deeper than the void of space filled with rage snapping to his own in an instant.

That instant was all Logan needed as he turned and tore his way back into the woods, feeling the heat of the midnight sun burning at his back as he desperately tried to pump his legs faster. The chase was completely silent save for the pounding of his feet and crackle of flames. He hardly dared concentrate on anything else but dodging trees and leaping over fallen logs, leading the monstrosity as far away from his family as he possibly could.

The woods caught fire around him, consuming the recovered forest in destruction and turning the floor to a sea of flickering sparks Logan attempted to weave around and jump over as best he could. Smoke filled his lungs instead of the screams he realized he had been silently hissing up his throat, making him choke on invisible hands that circled his windpipe and squeezed. No longer did he dodge trees but hollow figures hunched and moaning, turning sorrowful burning eyes to him as he leaped by, arms reaching like crude branches to an unforgiving sky.

He watched as they burned and crumpled, turning to dust that mixed with the smoke and only served to clog his throat further. Victims of the beast doomed to suffer for hundreds and thousands of years until summon foolish enough to mess with what they didn’t understand came along to doom them all again. Tears left his eyes and sizzled off his cheeks as the hot breath of his pursuer ceaselessly washed over him. His suit was too hot and his lungs were burning and he had to keep his family safe and keep running but his legs were tiring and he couldn’t see and he couldn’t scream and he couldn’t breath he wanted to breathe-

Slamming into a tree he crumpled to the ground in a sorry heap, hands shaking and gasping for air he looked up into darkness, flames all encompassing as he felt himself melting in the heat. His fur curled and then burnt to nothing, monkey suit gone in favor of flesh that boiled instead and all in front of an impassive audience. He watched as his skin dripped away like a candle left lit to long and his blood rose from shriveling muscles and shrinking arteries in a vapor the beast greedily inhaled through heaving nostrils. One last effort, one last painful breath to reach out his hand, to quiet the snap of flames and moaning of the deceased and screaming of his lungs. A reach in understanding to never tamper with spirits of old and better left gone, through the flames that writhed with the agony of being born again and settling on something soft and small.

And then blissful silence.

-----

“So what happened to the prank?” Remus lifted a trying-very-hard-not-to-laugh Virgil into the bed of the truck, chucking a bag of marshmallows into his lap to keep him occupied.

Logan turned slightly, sleeping bag much lighter now without the suit clutched in his hands to load with the rest of their things. “I- must have fallen asleep. Apologies Remus.”

“It sounded like a good prank anyway.” Virgil piped up from the blanket pile he was currently nesting in. Remus had told him and Jnaus all that was supposed to have happened that morning when they had all woken from a fitful night’s sleep. Nightmares, they had said, revolving around- quoting Janus- that awful legend that “had I known you were going to tell Remus I would have said absolutely not until our son is older he reads bigfoot blogs not Steven King novels.”

“It wasn’t even on that level!” Remus had argued.

“You drew a sigil to make it more realistic-”

Logan hadn’t bothered to pay attention after that.

“Alright everything’s packed.” Janus winced by the passenger door. “Let’s go home where there’s actual mattresses that won’t break our backs.”

Grinning Remus hopped into the truck bed, immediately starting a blanket hogging argument with Virgil while Logan made his way to the driver's seat. Shutting the door decisively he glanced into the side mirror to see the same black cat sitting by their cleaned campfire, summoning seal rubbed thoroughly out of the dirt and stones returned to their respective places around the clearing. Nodding slightly before starting the car he looked back just in time to see the cat disappearing into the trees, thick green foliage quickly hiding it from view.

Hands gripping the wheel tightly he tucked his thumbs into his palms to hide the dirt and ash still trapped under his nails, letting the white noise of his family’s playful bickering lead him out of the burning forest.