#cause I reached my SCHEDULE LIMIT

[delusional-cryptid]

I’m really loving @captainbrookeworm ‘s fic “shores of restless souls” (a sequel type thing to LoTL :O!!) and chapter two… it got me alright? Look I love him lots…. And I love drawing braids…. So, Morro with Hairstyle!!

[fake-bleach]

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader

summary: Derek Danforth takes great pleasure in paying for your company and your company only. He’s also a grade A asshole, who doesn't know how to take no for an answer. You come to him on a strict schedule, and, usually, he respects your life aside from him. But, for some reason, you can’t ever seem to get a hold of an evening with your friends without his intrusions. Corrupted with need, Derek persuades you to come to him with an offer of something.. more. Something that he knows will get your attention. What happens when the night ends in a way you wouldn't possibly expect?

word count: 3k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), slight spoilers for "the beekeeper", reader's a broke college student, substance use (reader & derek smoke a joint and get high), (that's the "more" in the summary if that matters to anyone btw), use of pet names (baby, babe), derek's an asshole and a bit toxic (as expected), maybe ooc derek but? in a way, reader makes derek want to be better, a bittt of angst but it's worth it i promise, kissing, yeaa i think that's it, part 2 will have smut ofc!, this is kinda all over the place but i hope it makes sense lmfaoo

authors note: hi! i've been so so occupied w/ college, so i apologize sincerely for my sudden, longgg hiatus :') i miss writing all of the time </3 but, i saw the beekeeper on saturday and felt the need to write again! i've been super into jhutch for the past few months, so i hope you guys enjoy this one <3 part two should be coming asap :) so, consider this my brief comeback? but not really? i'm unpredictable

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 2 here!

Being one of the girls Derek Danforth keeps around, you’re bound to deal with some of the bullshit that comes along with it.

But unbeknownst to you, he likes you a little more than he'd like to admit.

He hasn't seen any of the others in weeks now, his mind only occupied with his thoughts of you and when you're not around. And when you're actually with him, paying for the pleasures of your company, he can't help but want more from you when he knows that's beyond your limits.

It's simple, really.

He's a lonely man, and he knows that; knows that his personality is hard to swallow and tolerate. Knows it's pathetic that all he can do is pay for people to actually stick around.

But, there's only so much a lonely man can take.

So, that's when he starts seeing you, exclusively, ‘cause to be fair? You’re the only one who’s bothered to stay by his side for this long.

The only one who’s ever made him feel.. something.

It’s been a few months now since you started seeing Derek. The first few visits from you immediately captured his attention; your disposition being unlike any he's ever encountered before.

Being surrounded by other like-minded people such as himself, it's safe to say that it's all he's ever known. The rich and prosperous life that everyone else around him has. The ability to get anything he wants in a blink of an eye, regardless of what it was, extravagant or not.

You on the other hand? It wasn't so easy.

Maybe it was because you were so hard to get. Maybe it was because he liked the challenge.

He didn't know why he was so captivated by you. But, what he did know was the fact that he needed to.

"Hey, I know we said next week, but I need you here now."

Derek had called you, urgently as it seemed while you were out. Despite the heads up you gave him about your upcoming plans the last time you saw each other, he didn't care, and that was something you were already preparing for.

"Derek, I told you: I can't do today. We agreed that it was fine." You spoke directly into the phone, walking away from your friends at the club you were at to a quieter area; away from the deafening music that shook every inch of the perimeter.

"Are you at a club right now?"

You sighed exasperatedly, the irritation in your tone evident as you reached an empty corridor near the bathroom, body leaning against the wall. "Yes, Derek, did I have to specify my plans to you as well?"

He let out a small laugh that made you stiffen, throat tightening.

"What's with the attitude, baby? It was a harmless fuckin' question."

You were used to this with him; the casual swearing, the way he spoke to you. It was nothing new, and everything you had already adapted to.

But, God, did it annoy the fuck out of you sometimes.

"No attitude. Just wondering why the hell you need me on my day off. I'm having some fun here, is that a problem?"

"Without me? 'Course it is," He exclaimed, his voice giving off his arrogance, "Why have fun there when you could be doin' that with me here?"

You swallowed sharply and licked your bottom lip, looking up and around you as you shook your head, hesitant on his inquiry. "I don't know, Derek.. I, I'm with my friends. Promised I'd be here tonight.." You paused, "They think I 'see you too much' already, y'know?"

"Fuck what your friends think. Come on, come see me, baby. I'll make it worth your while."

He was desperate, you could tell that much.

You rolled your eyes at that, your declaration already evoking his direct persuasions. "And how would you do that, Mr. Danforth?" You teased, "You know I don't play that shit with you."

He sighed into the phone, "Got something better then. You wanna relax, clear your head a bit? Fuck, I got it all for you," He implied what you thought he did, a slight weak spot that you didn't mind partaking in once in awhile.

He knew you were stressed with college, hence why you took this job in the first place; to ease the expenses you had to deal with. He also knew what you liked.

Still, who were you if one measly opportunity to get high bought you out?

"..And?" The word trailed off your tongue, drawing it out.

"I'll pay double tonight."

Too easy. "Fine."

You straightened yourself out, preparing to make up some lousy excuse to your friends of your departure. One that you knew they'd easily figure out.

"Text me the address."

Done. You heard the ding from the speaker of his phone alert him.

"Sending a car your way. Be out in 15."

You were intrigued by Derek.

Despite how much of an asshole he was, despite the privileged life that he's been able to live; the complete opposite of what you had been given.. you were intrigued by him.

The way he ticked, the way he carried himself.

The way everyone knew so much but so little about the President's son.

You almost felt special that his desires laid with you.

The roads that grew mundane to you towards Derek's estate made your heart race, the familiarity of it all still feeling so unbelievable to fathom.

You weren't like him; you were nothing like him. So, how in the hell did you get in this position?

The abrupt stop of the car you were in snapped you out of your head, and one of the workers Derek had around opened the door for you.

"Welcome back. Mr. Danforth has been waiting for you."

You smiled at the man and nodded, thanking him gracefully as you were led into the absurdly large residence you were still foreign to.

Before you could latch your eyes onto the man expecting you, his voice introduced himself into the room first, capturing your gaze.

"There's my girl. About time." Derek spoke loudly, and proudly at that, rushing towards you eagerly. He wore a blue suit with a cheetah print button up just underneath it, and you couldn't help but admit how nice it looked on him. His outfits could be outrageous at times, but it just worked with him.

You laughed at his remark. "I saw you two days ago, Derek."

He shook his head, grinning as he pressed a small kiss to your cheek. An affectionate gesture that you agreed to in your early days with him. "Two days, too long."

You rolled your eyes and gave him a small side hug, feeling a bit more eased at his calm demeanor. It seemed like he was completely different from the Derek you spoke to on the phone. Maybe he really did just need to see you.

But you? You had no idea why he chose you.

"Well, I'm here now.. What are you gonna do with me?" You tantalized, wanting to fuck with him as much as you could. The rules you set for yourself kept him in check, but you couldn't deny how fun it was to see him squirm.

You were confident, and you knew it. You knew he wanted you. But, you knew your worth, too. You weren't going to be so easy.

At least, not unless it was on your own circumstances.

He took a deep breath and put his hand on your lower back, beginning to lead you towards the abundant living room that he had all to himself. Matter of fact, he had the entire place to himself.

He glanced at your face as you took your steps, explaining himself clearly, "Just what you agreed to, baby. Got what you want right here." He took his hand off of you, walking towards the elegant box on the sofa table that he quickly opened up.

Pulling out something small, he lifted it up to you, revealing the perfectly rolled up joint that put a slight smirk on your face.

Well, here we fucking go.

"You're staying true to your word, Danforth. Just what I like to see," You commented, walking up to him, "Well, don't keep me waiting."

He shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Get comfortable, then."

He sat on the couch and patted next to him, and you followed right along, the lighter suddenly in his hand igniting to present the orange flame that flickered in your eyes.

He placed the joint in between his lips, lighter hovering above the end of it as it makes that familiar sound, papered edges burning crisp. He takes a drag of it, shutting his eyes as he lets the smoke fill his mouth before inhaling it into his lungs. A familiar warmth already seeping into the environment around you.

Without a second to waste, he urges you to come closer, muttering out a, "C'mere baby," before he places the tip of the joint in between your lips for you.

You quickly take the chance to take a drag yourself, repeating his every move as you shut your eyes blissfully, the herbal scent of it filling your nose from Derek's own smoke escaping his mouth.

"Yeah," He draws out, "There you go," He mutters as he watches you intently, taking in your hazy state as you evidently begin to relax. "Feels good?"

You swallow as you flutter your eyes back open to him, slight butterflies spreading to your stomach.

..That was the weed. Not him. Definitely not him.

You just nodded as he pulled it away from you, sleekly mustering out, "Great. Feeling better already."

He smirked at you and cocked his head, "Already? We're just gettin' started, babe."

You huffed and leaned back against the couch, getting yourself more comfortable as you shook your head, "Alright, Mr. Professional over here. I don't smoke as much as you, you know that." You sighed.

"I know, I know, m' just fucking with you. Besides, you got me here now, anyways," He teased, scooting a bit closer to you, "C'mon, open up." He urged you, taking another drag coolly, eyes stuck on you.

You quickly listened, lips parting to open wide, expecting the sudden smoke that filled the air to hit you. He blew it out in your face, making you giggle from the feeling as your lungs took it in.

He licked his lips as his gaze lingered on yours, lips slowly closing shut as your body increasingly felt lighter, the substance overwhelming your foggy brain.

The more the seconds passed, the more his eyes darkened, consuming you completely.

A part of you couldn’t help but like it.

There was something so sensual about it. You knew that; there was no denying it. And maybe it was the weed too, but fuck, did it feel good with him right now.

Right now, Derek Danforth was not the condescending asshole that you occasionally dreaded being around.

Right now, Derek Danforth was slowly becoming the one thing that you craved the most.

Fuck, it really was the weed.

"Give me that." You distracted yourself from your heavy thoughts, reaching for the joint in between his fingers. He handed it to you and leaned back against the couch himself, body angled to face you entirely.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, and now, it was you who was bound to squirm.

You avoided his gaze, taking one last drag before giving it back to him eagerly. There was only so much you could take, and normally you'd want more, but you couldn't help but fear the possibility of any more of it multiplying these thoughts of him.

The feelings that you continuously needed to deny.

Your eyes locked onto the center table just in front of you, suddenly feeling incredibly curious about the intricately built legs that screamed wealth.

Now, he obviously wasn't as high as you, because the next thing that leaves his mouth sounds a bit too coherent for him to be.

"Don't know how you went this long without me."

Your head snapped to him at that, stomach suddenly tightening with confusion at his words. A direct, accusative statement you couldn't have possibly expected to hear from him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just.. with college, with this, with experiences like this.. You need me. Obviously." He exclaimed confidently, as if you should’ve known that already.

There he was. The asshole.

You sharply inhaled, scoffing as you shook your head, staring down at your lap. Your hazy mind can't even help you form words, except for the one phrase that doesn’t do your defense any justice.

"I don't.. I don't need you." The tone of it is light, gentle as it rolls off your tongue, and you hate that you're not in the right headspace for this right now.

He laughs at that. The same laugh that always makes you stiffen, freezing in your place.

"You don't.. you don't need me?" He mocks you as he takes another drag from the joint, putting it out on the ashtray in front of him, "Everybody needs someone, baby.. You shouldn't try so hard to deny that." He taunts you, and you know that it's what he wants from you.

For you to lash out. For you to show him any ounce of vulnerability that you've managed to keep composed since this relationship began.

"Especially not from someone who treats you so.. Right." He whispers out, almost grimly as he leans in closer to you, face merely inches away.

You slowly turn your head now, facing him as you shut your eyes gauzily, mind still lost in your mix of emotions. You hate him; you want to hate him so badly, but you can't.

Some fucked up part of you can't let yourself.

But, that doesn't stop you from putting up a fight.

"You treat me.. right? Is that what you think?" You begin, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to hold yourself back, "You're an asshole, who treats everyone like shit, Derek."

He laughs, a cruel noise escaping his lips; an unexpected action that urges you on, pushing you further.

"You.. You completely disregard my feelings, my, my plans, everything in my life that doesn't have anything to do with you, you're unbearable, you—"

He cuts you off then, inching closer to you as he grins at that, "Then why the fuck do you stick around? If I'm so fucking unbearable, baby, why do you bother with me?"

"Because maybe.. there's some part of me that hopes you'll stop being such a piece of shit, Derek!" You explode now, aggravated and pushed to your limits. Pushed to show you care for him in some way.

Was this his plan all along?

You don’t know, but you let out one final remark, unable to control yourself now that you've already begun, "But, I don't fucking need you. You need me." You spit out, your seething glare locked on him.

"I need you?" He spews out, almost as if it's too unbelievable to even hear.

"Yeah, you need me."

"I need you?" He repeats bitterly.

You swallow, blatantly whispering, "You need me, Derek."

He continuously denies you, his composure slowly leaving him the more you open your mouth. 

“I don’t need you. I don’t fucking need anyone.” He’s quick to say defensively as he turns away from you, refusing to allow you to get to him.

But, you know it now. You’re getting under his skin.

You press further, head closing in near his to make sure he hears your words loud & clear.

“You randomly pulled me out of my plans tonight and brought me here, Derek. What fucking for? I know you didn’t just need my fucking company. Not after you persuaded me to come. I know you better than that now.”

He shakes his head, rapid and tense, unknowingly egging you on.

“Why do you care about what the fuck I do? Who I see? Hell, even my fucking life! I thought this was all just business to you. What happened to that?”

He pauses then, processing it all. Something he's never been compelled to do before.

“..What happened to that, Derek?” You push, tone composed & steady now.

Before you can continue your little speech, before you can push him any further, he crumbles instantly; voice direct and harsh as he finally reviles into your exertions.

"I don’t—I don’t fucking know, okay! Yeah, maybe you're fucking right. Maybe that's why I always want you around. Maybe that's why you're the only fucking person that I ever want to be around. I—I just—"

“You just what?” You need to hear it, desperation seething through your voice.

He bursts out now, head turning to face you as he spits out his confession. “I can’t fucking think of anything else but you. I can’t be around anyone else without wishing it was fucking you.”

There it fucking is. But, he’s not done.

“You drive me fucking crazy, baby,” He laughs at himself, pathetic with his vulnerable words that no one else has ever gotten to hear, “And I don’t know what the fuck to do ‘cause I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but fuck, maybe I.. I do fucking need you, I don’t fucking—”

You can’t control the next thing you do.

Well, maybe you can, but you really don’t fucking want to.

It's your turn to cut him off now, after the countless times he’s done it to you; by placing your lips on his, eager and desperate as your hands slip from your lap to cup his face and pull him in close, chasing the high of his lips on yours.

He shuts his eyes as you do the same, swallowing sharply once you break it apart, eyes set on him as you await his response.

His wide eyes lock onto yours now, and he whispers out your name, shocked and unsteady, and almost in an attempt to stop you.

"God, just shut up for once." You interrupt him, pushing your lips back onto his before he can protest any further. He moans into your mouth, hands moving to grip your hips eagerly, his body closing in on you completely.

Let's just say, you don't feel so high anymore. You’re no longer confused.

You're more sure of this than anything in your fucking life.

-

part two should be coming this week! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[scribbledghost]

Something Old

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (F!Reader, no Y/N)

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4,013

Warnings: smut, collaring, d/s dynamics, PiV sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, subspace, cockwarming

Note: this is a direct sequel to my other fic "Something New", which can be found on my masterlist. This can be read as a standalone, but I do recommend reading that one first. Tagging @trampondemand cause I think you asked me to tag you if I ever gave Something New a part two??

It takes several months for the collar to develop into a more prominent feature of yours and Simon's relationship. At first, it is seldom used, limited strictly to your bedroom and only brought out when Simon verbally requested it.

It takes time for you to pick up on the subtle tells that Simon has. The ones that indicate that he wants you to collar him, but that he doesn’t want to (or simply feels like he can’t) ask for it aloud yet. 

And tonight, he has all of them going.

You can tell he's had a rough day at work the moment he walks through the door. You remember his brief sense of optimism earlier in the morning, because today was simply meant to be standard on-base work; training recruits, perhaps some meetings or briefings to attend to, but not much more had been on Simon's schedule.

But from the way he walks in, shoulders heavy and movements sluggish as he toes his boots off and tugs off his balaclava, something tells you that the optimism had been unfortunately misplaced.

He holds you close, head dipping to your shoulder to bury his face there. You feel him drag in several deep breaths and a soft groan rumbles through him as you reach up and scratch his scalp. It's like he's trying to bury himself in you, like he's trying to get so close to you that he can't tell where you end and he begins.

"Rough day?" you ask gently.

He gives you a muffled "mhm" from where his face is still pressed to your shoulder.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Another sound, this time in the negative, accompanied by a slight shake of his head where it rests.

He pulls away from you, but only far enough for him to nudge his forehead against yours and sigh.

"Jus' glad to be home."

You give him a soft smile, bringing one hand down to trace across a couple of the scars on his face. Your hand finds his jawline as you pull him in for a kiss, listening as he exhales through his nose and leans into you.

Simon pulls you close by your hips, a low groan leaving him as you slip your tongue into his mouth. As you deepen the kiss, you slide a hand back to the nape of his neck. You grip the short hair there and tug, and as you do so, Simon whines; a sound so soft you almost miss it.

Almost.

That whine is the only confirmation you need. It is the last vestiges of a too-proud man, pushed through his throat and out into the open air.

"Why don't you let me take care of you, Simon?" you breathe into the space between you. "Help you forget the day."

He eyes you for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. After some time, he nods.

“Why don’t you go get ready then? I’ll be right behind you,” you say, and he kisses you again before walking away from you and towards your shared bedroom.

He grabs one of the kitchen chairs as he goes.

By the time you enter the bedroom and close the door behind you, Simon is on his knees in front of the empty chair with his hands on his thighs, waiting for you. You walk towards the bedside table, gently petting his hair as you pass him. He leans into your touch, though he does not turn to look at you as you grab what you’re after.

The collar is well-worn by now, the black leather more pliable and comfortable than when you'd first fastened it around Simon's neck. The silver o-ring still shines, however.

As does the little metal plate off to the side that has your initials engraved on it.

"This what you want, Simon?" you ask as you sit in front of him, collar in hand.

"Yes," he says with a nod as he looks up at you. His eyelids droop as he tilts his head further upwards, presenting his neck to you in a practiced, familiar action. 

"Please."

The quiet request from him brings a smile to your face, and you take your time fastening the collar around his neck in the way he likes best - not tight enough to constrict, but not loose enough to sag against his clavicle. After a quick check by slipping two of your fingers between the leather and his skin, you hook the same two fingers into the ring. You don't pull - not yet - but rather you let them lay there, acting as a slight weight against the collar.

Simon's head tilts back down as he looks at you through his eyelashes, a deep breath emanating from him.

"Can I touch you, love?" he asks softly.

You give him another smile.

"Yes, you can."

His hands find your knees and slide up your thighs, his body slotting between your spread legs as he settles his grip on your sides. His warm touch is just beneath your shirt, and you gently guide him by his collar until he's close enough for you to kiss.

"How far do you want to take this, Simon?" you ask softly. It's not unusual for the two of you to use the collar in a purely non-sexual manner when he's had a rough day; as a way to help you bring him down from the stress and adrenaline before building him back up.

Then again, it's not unusual for its use to take a turn for the erotic, either.

"As far as you'll go."

You hum thoughtfully, running your free hand through his hair.

"Want me to call the shots, huh?" you ask. "Want me to empty that pretty head of yours until all you can think about is doing what I tell you?"

"Yes," he breathes, his eyes rolling upward. 

"You want to be good for me, don't you, Simon?"

A shudder wracks his frame, and you know he's settling into the proper frame of mind for what you've got planned. Just how easy it was to get him to this point is a clear testament to how sour his day must have been.

"I know you do, my love," you breathe to him as you kiss him again. "Always so good for me. Why don't you start by helping me out of these pants, hm?"

Simon nods, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans slowly. Once you lift your hips, he slides them off of you gently, all while keeping his gaze on you.

Not that he could look anywhere else even if he wanted to, given the hold you had on his collar.

He starts to move his hands to the waistband of your underwear, but you stop him.

"Ah," you tease, "tell me what you want first, Simon."

"Wanna taste you."

The certainty in his tone sends a shock of warmth to your core. At first, you have half a mind to simply give him the go-ahead. Tell him to remove your underwear and make you cum on his tongue.

But what's the use of having a hulking, brick wall of a man on his knees for you if you can't have a little fun?

"Patience, love," you say with a sly smile. You let go of his collar and lean back in the chair, another spark of arousal flaring inside of you as you notice Simon subconsciously following your hand. You spread your legs wider, giving him full view of your clothed center.

"Taste me like this first," you tell him. "Then, if you do a good enough job, I'll let you take them off. Think you can do that for me, Simon?"

He nods, the silver ring on his collar jingling against the plate it's attached to. You hum in approval, placing a hand on his cheek as you rub your thumb along his skin.

"Good boy," you murmur. "Go ahead then."

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then his arms are sliding beneath your thighs as his hands find your hips. After that, he wastes no more time before he dives towards you, pressing the flat of his tongue against the growing wet spot on your underwear. 

If there is one thing you've come to know about Simon, it's that he does not do half measures. Not in the field, not at home, and certainly not in the bedroom. Even now, with only the passing taste of you on his tongue through the fabric, he's delving into you with all the vigor he holds. His breath comes hot and heavy through his mouth and nose against you, and his groans vibrate against your core.

It's not enough for you to come. You know this, and so does he, but the sight of Simon Riley mouthing at you as if there's no barrier between his tongue and your cunt at all is too addicting for you to put a stop to it just yet.

You reach for his hair with one hand, pulling him further into you.

"That's it," you breathe, "doing so well for me, Simon. So, so good for me."

His grip on you tightens and his eyelids twitch as his eyes roll upwards beneath them. 

You remember how long it took for Simon to be comfortable with the overt praise you gave him. How he wanted it - craved it, even - but the line between not enough praise and too much had been an easy one to cross. He hadn't been used to it; not in such an open, vulnerable sense. 

But now? Now that you have both explored and tested and eased into the dynamic slowly? He chases it. As soon as the piece of leather baring your initials is fastened against his throat, he allows himself to let go and accept any soft words you give him. It's still a fine line at times, but now it's one you've learned to walk without issue. A give and take between the two of you; a dance you both know the steps of by memory.

You sigh as Simon continues his ministrations, massaging his scalp as you close your eyes. You allow yourself to enjoy the sensations for a few more moments before you decide to show him mercy.

"Okay, love," you say, reaching down and hooking two fingers into the collar as you pull him away from you. He is slow to retract his tongue into his mouth, his gaze glossy and dazed. Fully drunk on just the slightest taste of you.

"You've done so well for me, Simon," you soothe as you take one of his hands and place it at the waistband of your underwear. "Go ahead and take them off. You've earned it."

He slowly does as you instruct, eyes never leaving yours as he removes the garment and helps you toss it aside. Simon's arms once again loop beneath your thighs, though he pauses before he dives into you.

"Wanna make you cum, love," he says lowly.

You hum, giving him a grin as you tug him closer by the o-ring on his collar.

"Then make me cum."

Simon has always been very good at following instructions.

The way his tongue moves is practiced and familiar; flattening against you in broad strokes before circling your clit. Wanton moans rumble through his chest as he helps you cage your thighs around his head. 

If you pay close enough attention, you can catch small thrusts of his hips, struggling to give himself any amount of friction he can get against his clothes. 

During previous trysts, he has paused to ask if he can use his fingers on you in addition to his tongue. There is none of that on this day, however. Another testament to how lost he is, to how much he needs to let go and focus only on your touch, your taste, your words.

Once again, you thread a hand through his hair as you talk him through it.

"Feels so good, Simon," you breathe, "keep going. Just like that, focus on my clit. There you go, good boy."

A full-body shudder coupled with a shameless groan rips through him, the extra stimulation causing your hips to buck as you grip tighter on his hair. 

As if he's once again chasing your praise, he all but doubles his efforts, pressing his face impossibly closer to you and swiping your clit with a skilled touch. It isn't long after this that you feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, and you dig your heels into his back as a silent warning.

The coil in you snaps, and in your far-off, hazy state, you register Simon moaning with you as you climax. You're sure you're babbling praise at him as he works you through it, though you can't tell exactly what you're saying.

Once your body releases its tension, Simon slows his movements as well. You reach down between your legs to find his collar as you gently pull him away from you, and it takes a moment for him to lazily open his eyes as he gazes up at you. He gives you a lopsided grin, one you've come to know well. He's fully in his subspace at this point, pliant and ready for whatever you have planned next.

You pull him to sit up straighter on his knees, and he lets go of your legs as you lean forward to kiss him. As you do so, you let a finger run along the section of collar that bears your initials.

"All mine, aren't you, Simon?" you purr.

"Yours," he affirms. "All yours, love."

"Ready to keep going?" you ask. "Or do you need a minute?"

"More," is all he gives you in response.

You nod, then move to stand from your chair. His gaze follows you, though he obediently keeps his hands to himself. He watches as you remove your shirt and bra, and you feel his stare as you walk over and lie down on the bed.

"Stand up," you command. 

Simon is quick to oblige, the joints in his knees popping as he does so. You can see the tent in his pants from where you lay.

"Now, I want you to take your clothes off - slowly," you say, your last word interrupting him as you notice his hands move too quickly for your liking.

He pauses for a moment, then begins to follow your directions.

He starts with his shirt, slowly tugging it up his body and over his head before discarding it on the floor. Next are his boots and socks, followed by his belt, which he dutifully unthreads through each loop in his pants. After that, he rests his hands near the button, looking at you with hooded eyes for permission to continue.

"Go on," you say with a nod.

His pants are removed slowly, leaving him only in his underwear. The bulge in the fabric is now markedly more visible, as is the wet patch forming where the head of his cock strains against its confines.

Once again, he pauses. Another step in the dance between the two of you.

Except this time, instead of giving him permission to disrobe himself, you sit up at the edge of the bed and beckon him closer. 

"Would you like some help with these, Simon?" you ask playfully, hooking your index finger into the waistband as you look up at him.

At first, he only nods. Then, when you raise your eyebrows expectantly, he elaborates.

"Yes," he breathes. "Please."

You lean in to press a kiss to his abdomen, noting how the muscles beneath his skin jump at the contact. You help divest him of the last piece of clothing he has on, keeping your eyes locked on his as you do so.

Once he is as bare as you are (save for the piece of leather around his neck), you move further onto the bed. 

At first, you only lie back and watch him. He keeps clenching and unclenching his fists, a clear sign that he's eager to put his hands on you. But, ever the good boy in times like these, he waits for your permission. 

Finally, you decide to give it to him - but not in the way he expects.

Normally, when Simon is collared and at your mercy, he likes to see your face. Whether you're on top or he is is irrelevant, but he likes being able to watch your expressions. Likes being able to watch your mouth move as you praise him. Likes being able to kiss you.

But today, you decide a change of form is in order.

You turn over, lifting yourself onto your knees and elbows. You hear Simon swallow loudly as a breath is punched from his lungs.

"Come on, love," you purr as you turn to look at him. "Get behind me. You can lean over me and put your hands on the bed."

He is slow as he moves, as if he's searing the experience into his memory. Simon gets into position as instructed, draping himself over you as you feel his cock slide against your folds. His hips stutter, and you know he's struggling to keep them as still as he can despite his instinctual need to chase the friction your body provides.

You reach between your legs, guiding him to your entrance.

"Alright, Simon," you breathe. "Go ahead. But don't move once you're in."

Again, he's slow, a long, quiet groan leaving him as he buries himself inside of you. You feel him inch by inch until his hips meet your skin, and once he's fully seated, he releases a shuddering breath. 

He obeys you fully, not moving a muscle as you adjust to him. It takes little time, your previous orgasm being more than enough for you to take him. His breaths are heavy and strained, and you know he is close to his limit of waiting.

It is a calm before the storm - one you know is coming, because you're the one about to create it.

You know Simon is pulled taught, a bowstring ready to release as soon as its handler commands it. All it will take is one simple command.

You give it without hesitation.

"Now," you start, reaching up behind you to hook two fingers into the o-ring dangling from Simon's neck. You yank him down closer to you, and he releases a moan that shifts into a growl as you do. 

"Fuck me like you mean it, Simon."

You don't need to elaborate on the order. Nor do you need to tell him twice.

He takes you hard and fast, hips snapping into you with abandon. You still have a grip on his collar, rendering him unable to straighten his back; keeping him close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him. 

After a particularly hard thrust, the strength in your arms gives way, sending your head down onto the mattress below. Still, you don't release Simon, causing him to lurch forward with you.

It's difficult for you to tell which guttural sounds are coming from you and which ones are coming from him - his voice tends to pitch upwards when he's this lost in his headspace. It's a rare sound, but it's one you chase after anyway.

"That's it," you mumble, hoping he can hear. "That's it, just - fuck - just like that, Simon. Feels so good, feels so fucking good."

Another harsh thrust coupled with a pinched groan is enough to confirm he heard the message. 

You shift your hips only slightly, just enough for him to nudge something deep inside of you over and over and over again. A haze descends over your mind, all thoughts leaving you except for how good it feels and how you don't want it to stop.

"God, Simon, you're so fucking good," you say without thinking. "Good boy. Good fucking boy."

Suddenly, you feel him still, his cock pressed as far into you as possible while he comes. With it comes a new sound out of Simon's mouth:

He fucking whines.

Not like the gentle, soft whine he gave you earlier, the one to indicate he was willing to be pliable and eager for you. No, this one is louder. Brazen.

Desperate.

It's a sound you have never heard out of your lover before, and you immediately make a mental note to do whatever it takes to hear it again.

The heat in the room is stifling as you both catch your breath. Simon further drapes himself over your body, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to the skin he can reach. 

"Sorry," he mumbles, "didn't wait for you to tell me I could come. Got lost. Didn't... didn't realize-"

You shush him softly.

"You don't need to apologize, love," you murmur. His orgasm had caught him by surprise, just as it had you. 

"You can go ahead and pull out," you tell him, releasing the hold on his collar. "Lie back and rest, I'll get something to clean us up with."

However, Simon does not follow your suggestion.

"Can we stay like this?"

You smile to yourself.

"Yeah, you can stay inside for a little while. But let's get a bit more comfortable first, okay?"

He huffs slightly when you move and pull his cock from you. 

"Easy, Simon," you say, "it's just for a second."

You guide him to lie on his side next to you, and shift yourself onto your side facing him. You hook one of your legs over his hip and bring yourself closer, helping him to sheath his softening cock back into your heat.

"There," you croon as you extend an arm beneath his head to pull him closer, "good boy."

Simon's eyes flutter as his body shudders. 

Normally, this would be the point in the evening when you would clean up, bring him some water, and make sure he's fed and comfortable. You would remove his collar and set it aside, and perhaps massage his neck if things had gotten particularly rough.

Not this time, however. The scene isn't over yet. 

He hasn't returned from his subspace.

"Come on back whenever you're ready, Simon," you murmur to him. "I've got you. I'm here."

He curls into you, draping an arm over your middle and pulling you closer. His eyes close, and for a moment you think he's fallen asleep. It wouldn't necessarily be a negative thing - he once said he tends to sleep more soundly when he's down like this - but you know waking up later will be somewhat disorienting for him in exchange.

However, he's still awake.

And, if the way he gently cups your cheek to pull you in for a kiss is any indication, he's starting to slowly come back up from his subspace.

"Thank you, lovey," he rumbles.

"Don't need to thank me, Simon. Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm."

"Hungry?"

He pauses.

"...Yeah."

"Alright," you say, "I'll get us cleaned up in a few, then order some takeout. Sound good?"

Simon makes a soft noise in the affirmative. After a few moments of silence, you reach up and touch his collar. 

"Want me to take it off?"

"No," he says. "Not yet. Like the way it feels."

He knows when he's finished wearing it, all he has to do is ask you to remove it. He always has free permission to remove it on his own, but he's told you before that he'd rather your hands be the ones to do so.

"You back up with me, love?" you ask. "It's okay if you're not. Just trying to gage where you are."

"'M back up," he says. "Jus' enjoyin' the moment. That's all."

He always does tend to get a bit sentimental when he's fresh off of a scene. 

You bring him in for another kiss, sharing the oxygen in the small space between the two of you. 

"Love you, Simon."

Simon's actions speak in ways his words can’t as he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you again.

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part Ten

Warnings: Smut, Language, Slight Violence, mention of self-harm

Part Nine

Part Ten:

His breath was hot on my neck as I clung to the headboard of our bed. 

My knuckles were white as I rolled my hips with him buried deep inside of me. 

Nothing could ever top how good he feels inside of me.

I was sure of it. 

He groans as he laces his fingers in my hair. I focus on breathing as his lips wage war on my breast. 

“Fuck baby doll.”

He breathed against me, his breathing ragged as I continued my movements. My eyes flutter closed as I feel him thrust inside of me. Each movement is deep and determined to make me come undone. We’d been at it since we woke up at eight in the morning and now that it was nearing nine I knew we were fucking on a time limit. 

“Colbs…” I whimper as he pulls my hair, forcing me to look at him once he’s done with my breast. In the dim light of our bedroom, sunlight peeking from behind the blackout curtain, I see his glazed blue eyes. His lips in a pout as he watches me, never ceasing his thrusts. For a moment I don’t dare to say another word, I just look at him and note the smirk on his face. Another tug at my hair is his way of encouraging me to speak once more. 

“...Remember we have somewhere to be at eleven…”

He hums in response, acknowledging what I’ve said, but not ceasing his movements.

“... Kris and Celina will be here any moment to help me get ready.” Another hum escapes him, his cock seeming to go inside of me deeper as he slowly thrusts. My lips part at the action, my stomach flipping in satisfaction as he slowly moves his hands to my breasts. Suddenly I don’t care that we are running out of time, I just focus on how he kneads my breasts and how he feels inside of me. I can feel his eyes on me as he watches me. He chuckles darkly as he sees me falling apart before him. 

“I’ll never get tired of seeing my sweet…innocent…” He pauses angling his hips to hit a deeper spot within me, causing me to cry out in satisfaction.

“...little wife riding my cock.”

A breath escapes me, a huff of air that I hadn’t realized I was holding in. My moans fill the room as I force myself to look at him. The look of hunger on his face makes me wish that we had more time to do this. More time for him to fuck me senseless, but another quick look at the clock made me realize we needed to be on schedule.

“Colby...”

I whine, a desperate sound that makes him chuckle once more. We needed to finish or risk the wrath of Kris when she arrived to make me look presentable for today’s event.

“...Please honey, we need to be on schedule.”

Another hum passes his lips as he starts to thrust a bit faster, sloppier. Knowing that I’m right about wrapping this up. He captures my lips in his as he does this, our bodies moving in unison as I feel my walls start to tighten around his cock. For a moment I feel that uncontrollable bliss overtake me. The sweet satisfaction of knowing that we’re both going to get the release we worked for. I deepen the kiss as our bodies reach their climax and we cum together at the same time. His hands hold my hips in place as he finishes, our breathing ragged. When we break the kiss, I playfully bite his bottom lip, an action that causes him to growl.

“Keep up the lip biting and we are going to miss the entire fucking event.”

He threatens with a smirk, amused by my teasing. I give him a sweet smile, giving him a little kiss on the nose as I get off the top of him. Determined to make myself move, or risk the possibility of initiating round two. He leans against the headboard and watches me get out of the bed. I feel his gaze coasting over me in admiration as I wipe myself off with a towel that is lying on the dresser and toss it in the hamper. I wrap my body in my robe and glance back at Colby. His eyes are on the small baby bump that I’m now sporting. 

We were now at week 16 of the pregnancy.

“Pretty soon we’re going to have to tell the public that we’re expecting.” 

I look down at the bump and nod. I’d been putting off telling anyone because I wasn’t ready for the media attention that we’d get. My in-laws had been overjoyed at the news. At the fact that I’d been a good wife and got knocked up.

Like I was supposed to. 

I’d half expected my in-laws to force me to announce the pregnancy immediately, but oddly enough they were the ones who told me to wait. I was sure they wanted to wait until I was really showing for maximum media attention. 

“Once they tell me to say something I will.”

My reply earns a look of sympathy from my husband, who watches me closely. We’d spent the last 14 weeks together in our little bubble. In that time we’d focused on doing normal things. The things that we’d never managed to do previously. Simple things like entertaining our friends, cooking new meals, reading, and spending quality time together. Colby even spent time with Kris and Celina when they came over to visit, which improved their strained relationship. 

And then there was Sam. 

I hadn’t seen Sam since the night he told me he was in love with me. Since the night he admitted to Colby that he was responsible for my father being taken. He’d been over to our house, but every time he was I found somewhere else to be. I used those days to focus on my charity work and planning the events I needed to go to. I no longer relied on Sam for guidance on the events I went to. Instead, I showed up and worked with the press at the charity events without Sam’s assistance. I did the photo calls, and used what he taught me to generate the best PR I could for the family I married into.  I just knew that I wasn’t in the right place to see Sam right now, not when the betrayal still stung. This isn’t to say that I didn’t miss Sam, but I wasn’t ready to see him yet. 

I didn’t know if I would ever be.

I’m so inside of my head that I don’t realize that Colby has gotten out of bed. I hadn’t realized that he’d changed and put his robe on. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder. Breathing with me as I try not to think about how much Sam’s absence has affected me. Without saying a word he held me, understanding how much the loss of my friendship with his brother had hurt me. 

“Sam misses you too.” He rasps, seeming to read my thoughts as he kisses the side of my head softly. I lean into him when he says this, his hands slowly moving to the small baby bump. For a moment I stand there and relax as he traces over my stomach. His touch is so light, as if he’s afraid that he’s going to hurt the baby if he touches me any harder. My hands slowly rest on top of his as I ease into him. 

“He’s going to be here today isn’t he?”

I ask, thinking about the event that Kris and Celina were going to dress me for. The garden party was an event that my mother-in-law had planned. With spring starting and the flowers blooming, my mother-in-law thought it would be the ‘perfect backdrop’ to a charity art event.  The event was going to be held on the grounds of Colby and I’s house. In the back yard where the house staff helped set up all yesterday afternoon. Our backyard had acres of land and the garden had become the biggest pain in my ass for the last few weeks. Colby hadn’t done much in regards to styling our yard or the garden that was nonexistent until I was forced to make it a reality. The only thing that had existed before I touched it was the overgrown hedge maze, now trimmed up for today’s event. 

I’d put my whole heart into designing our backyard, hours of combing through pinterest and working to make those stunning photographs a reality. Without a spending limit, we now had an outdoor terrace that was fully furnished. The designer I’d hired had planned every single inch of our vast garden, with me overseeing every detail. It had been the most stressed I’d ever been because I knew it had to be up to my in-laws standards. 

Or else.

This project had taken over a month to complete, only possible because of the around the clock workers we’d hired. My in-laws hadn’t seen the finished product, something that added to my stress of the day. That mixed with me having to face Sam, made me wish I didn’t have to go to the event. But I knew there was no getting out of it, it was my mother-in-law’s event and the money made was going to go to a woman’s shelter that I’d chosen. This was going to be our first mother/daughter-in-law event and I couldn’t get out of it. 

Even if I was dreading it.

Colby sighs, giving my head another soft kiss before unwrapping his arms from me. He knew I wasn’t ready to see Sam and he knew I was freaking out about the event, but he also knew that we just had to get through this together. He looks back at me and gives me another look of sympathy.

“Sam is going to be here today. It’s a family event and everyone is expected to be there to be supportive. It would look suspicious if he missed out on a family event, especially your first big moment with my mom. We have to appear to be united.” 

I nod as his words settle in. He was right, with the way the press watched us it would be weird if we did this without Sam. We needed to act like one big happy family. I stand in silence as Colby turns his attention to making our bed. As he does this a knock sounds from our bedroom door. 

“Come in Kris and Celina.” 

Colby calls sweetly while finishing making the bed. When the door opens I turn to face them and laugh at Kris’s face when she studies my body. She looks from me to bump that’s made more prominent by the thick robe I’m wearing. 

“We are going to have to announce this baby soon. I can probably only hide the bump for a little bit longer.” 

I nod, smiling down at the small bump. Sooner or later I would have to tell the world. But today wasn’t going to be the day for that. Not unless my in-laws said it was.

–

Once my hair and makeup are done, I’m left alone in front of my vanity. I’d requested this moment alone so I could mentally prepare for the day ahead. I consider the way I will need to stand, how I will need to smile, and where to hold my hands so the photographers get the shots of my wedding rings. All things that I wouldn’t have realized people would care about until I married into a wealthy family. I’d done my research and knew that internet sleuths read into every detail. 

Details I couldn’t afford to miss.

 The thought causes me great discomfort as I glance back at my reflection. My long black hair hung in loose ringlets, my makeup light and natural. The dress I was wearing was a pastel pink with an empire waist bodice. The dress did a fantastic job of concealing any indication that I was pregnant. I breathe a deep sigh as the nerves of the day only seem to get worse. I’m so afraid of what is going to happen today. 

I didn’t want to give my in-laws ammunition. 

“You’re beautiful as always.”

My body tenses when I hear the voice behind me. The same voice I hadn’t heard for the last 14 weeks. I look up into the mirror and meet the light blue eyes of Sam. The same blue eyes that I’d seen the night my father was held at gunpoint. I can’t help but think of the last time we’d been in this position. The first night he properly introduced himself to me.

“Sam.” I whisper when I can’t think of anything else to say. What else could I say? A part of me wants to slap him for what I’d heard him say about my father. 

About me. 

But I don’t. Instead, I sit in the chair and keep my eyes on him. I didn’t know how someone who looked so sweet could be capable of doing the things he did. I knew that bad guys in real life don’t look like they do in fairytales. I knew that sometimes the most beautiful people in this world held the most dangerous secrets. I guess I just didn’t want to believe that I’d been so stupid when it came to Sam. I let him in and trusted him so completely, but he was the reason I was here in the first place. 

He stands there frozen as he looks at me in the mirror. I can see that he knows that I’m aware of everything he said. 

Everything he did.

Because he can see the betrayal on my face. He can see how torn I feel as I recall that he’d told me he was in love with me the same night that I found out the truth about what he’d done. He can see that I wanted to lash out, but that I won’t because I don’t have it in me. I’m too heartbroken to do anything more than stare back at him in silence. 

He knows that he has to make the first step and he does so by placing his hands on either side of my shoulders, his eyes never daring to leave mine as he does this.

“I’m really proud of everything you’ve been doing. All of the charity work and the appearances. The positive press has been crucial for our family. You’re a natural at this and I know that I’ve hurt you, but I’m not sorry…” He pauses as I feel my breathing hitch. He slowly starts to massage my shoulders, his thumbs doing gentle circles over any knots he finds. I want to pull away from his touch, my heart pounding in my chest. A cruel thought flickers deep within me as I study him, his dark look in his eyes as he studies how I react to his words. 

I didn’t know the real Sam at all. 

I’d poured my heart out to this man and let him in when I shouldn’t have. 

“...I’m not going to say sorry for you being here…”

He clarifies when he sees how much distrust is evident on my face and body language. 

“... I am sorry for how you got here and I will do what I can to make up for what I did to your father. But if I had to do it again, I would. You were meant to be here and I believe that with my whole heart...” 

He pauses once more, leaning down behind me until he’s at my eye level. In the mirror he stares at me, his smile taunting me as he guides his lips to whisper in my ear. 

“... Just like I love you with my whole heart.”

I feel my breathing hitch when he says this, my head slowly turning to meet his. I don’t know how to respond to his words so I just look at him in silence. His eyes study mine, pausing to glance down at my lips before returning to my gaze. I see that he wants to kiss me, but I pull out of his grasp, slowly turning to face him. I study my brother-in-law closely, noting the suit he’s wearing. He looks handsome, but I know what’s lurking beneath the surface and I knew that looks could be misleading. I want to say something, but I’m at a loss for words. Instead, my eyes move to the box in his hands, a small black box that he holds out to me. 

“It’s a mother’s ring. Our family has a tradition of gifting our wives with a mother’s ring once they get pregnant with their first born. The color of the diamond is the gender of the child. ”

My brow furrows as he takes a step forward, placing the box in my hands. With hesitance I open the box and study the ring. The ring is a cushion-cut pink diamond with white stones around the edges, the ring is set in white gold. 

“Cute, a reward for opening my legs and doing as I was told.”

The words come out bitterly as I close the box and shove it into Sam’s hands. His brow furrows at the words as if he didn’t realize that I would take the gift that way. 

“It’s a gift from Colby. I’m only giving it to you because he thought we should see each other before we’re forced in front of the cameras. He thought it might be awkward if we see each other for the first time in 14 weeks with an audience.”

I feel slight shame when I realize it’s from Colby, but I don’t regret saying it out loud. I was happy to be pregnant, but there was something about the family tradition that ate at me. It made me feel gross even if the intentions were well meant. 

“Thank you for bringing it to me…”

I state matter of factly, my eyes meeting Sam’s.

“... It’s beautiful. I’m just a little freaked out about today and I snapped. I’m sorry.” 

I mean every word even if I didn’t regret saying what I said. The truth was each second brought us closer to the event, the cameras, the guests, and seeing my in-laws face to face. I open the box and slide the ring onto my right-hand ring finger. It’s a beautiful ring and the irony of its color didn’t escape me. Pink, we were expecting a daughter, not that anyone else knew that. Only Colby and I knew what we were having.

“Pink, huh?”

Sam asks, noting the ring’s color. I keep my eyes on the ring and breathe a deep sigh as I watch the diamond catch the light. It twinkles back at me and I am grateful that Colby picked out something so beautiful. 

“Yes. Eleanor Samantha Brock is going to be your niece.”

I speak quietly, saying her name out loud felt strange but right. It was the name Colby and I had agreed on the same night we discovered the gender. I look at Sam who looks at me in awe, his face innocent. 

As if the interaction that just happened never occurred. 

There’s tears in his eyes, his gaze on my stomach. Despite everything, we’d chosen Samantha because we wouldn’t be having our little girl without Sam’s intervention. His lips part like he wants to say something, but doesn't get to before Colby’s voice calls back to me from the hallway. 

“My love? It’s time to go downstairs.”

I linger for a moment, my eyes on Sam. I give him a small, polite smile and turn away. I walk around Sam without looking back. Instead, I focus on joining my husband in the hallway and wrap my arms around him in a warm embrace. He hugs me back and gives the side of my head a tender kiss. 

“Thank you for my ring.”

Here, in his arms I feel safe. After that interaction with Sam and the nerves of the day, this was all I wanted. He was all I wanted. Colby hums in response, pulling back to look at me. One look at me and he can see that I’m freaking out, but he gives me a look of reassurance. Leaning forward his lips press against my forehead.

“You’re welcome, my dear…”

He pauses looking past me, his eyes settling on Sam who stands behind me. He gives Sam a slight smile, a warning for him to play nice or else.

“...Let’s get this over with.” 

–

The camera flashes are almost blinding as I stand on the outdoor stairs with my husband, Sam, and my in-laws. We were posed like this was an official family photo, when in reality we were the furthest thing from a family. 

A healthy functioning one at least. 

We stand there with the biggest smiles on our faces. The stairs lead to the garden I’d helped design, the marble steps firm beneath my wedged shoes. Our outdoor garden had really turned out and mentally I gave myself a pat on the back. Reminding myself that I needed to do something extra special for the team who made all of this possible. The cameras go crazy once more as Colby presses a kiss to the side of my face, holding me against him. I’m perfectly aware of the eyes of our guests watching on from the tables strategically placed around the yard. I try not to let their gazes add to my anxiety, but a part of me can’t deny the nerves I feel building up inside of me.

“That’s enough pictures. Please, let's get this party underway.”

Colby’s father says this in a jolly tone, a tone he only used when he had an audience. I mentally roll my eyes at how fake my in-laws are, a fakeness that worsens when my mother-in-law claps and starts addressing the guests. I don’t listen to what she says, I just focus on pretending I am. I couldn’t stand the show they were putting on, but I’m playing the game the best way I knew how.

“I have to go talk to Nate and Corey really fast. I’ll catch up with you a little later.” Colby whispers this in my ear, giving me an apologetic glance before leaving me alone with my in-laws and Sam. I had grown comfortable enough with my new family to not be overwhelmed by being left alone with them. Even though I’d rather not be left alone with them. 

The two cameras that remain go crazy when I turn to face my mother-in-law and give her a big smile. To anyone else, it looks like a tender moment between two loving family members, but to me, it’s all about playing my role on the show. She links her arm with mine and pulls me in next to her. My head rests on her shoulder, her head on top of mine.

“My darling girl. You’ve gotten so good at this.” 

She whispers for just me to hear. I laugh sweetly like she’s said a joke that is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. When she lifts her head from mine and we look at each other she looks down at my hidden bump. For a moment I think she’s going to make the announcement here and now, but she doesn’t. She gestures for the final two photographers to disperse and photograph something else. 

Without saying a word she links her left arm with my right. Lightly guiding us forward, she doesn’t bother telling Mr. Brock or Sam where she’s taking me. She whispers to me, extending her arm to link with mine. Out of habit, I make sure that my wedding ring finger is showing as I rest my hand on top of our linked arms. I’d been trained to get photographs with the ring because those pictures sold the best for our family. Remembering to do this makes my mother-in-law laugh. As if she approves of my good behavior. 

“Let’s take a walk.” She whispers to me as we walk forward. She follows the carefully crafted path through the grass that our designer had laid stone on. We snake through our guests and the garden with ease, smiling at our guests in passing.  Not one step seeming suspicious to anyone watching.

“How’s the baby?”

There’s a genuineness to her question that I didn’t expect. Maybe she did care about her future grandchild? Maybe she wanted me to slip up and tell her the sex of the baby, but I wasn’t about to do that. They were such an old school family, I wondered what they would do if they found out the heir they wanted wasn’t a boy. 

A break with the family tradition. 

I let her guide us towards the hedge maze that I’d helped our workers trim, my eyes forward as I contemplated what to say. 

“Good, everything is looking healthy. I’m following everything our family doctor has outlined for me. I’ve also been following the strict diet your nutritionist gave me.” 

She seems to approve of the fact that I’ve followed every step she’s given me since I announced that we were expecting. Purely out of fear, I’ve done exactly as I’d been told. 

I had to.

“I am impressed by you Emilia. I’ve seen all the work you’ve done with the soup kitchens, visiting hospitals, and working on this event all while being pregnant. And you never miss a beat, you’re always representing the family and I appreciate it.”

I feel a chill move up my spine when she compliments me. I didn’t trust that she was just saying this to say it. I could feel myself waiting for the other shoe to drop because that’s how this family was. Nothing they said and did was for free. Everything they did had an ulterior motive and I could feel the dread creeping through me as she chose what to say next.

“Colby seems very happy too, which was a bonus that I didn’t see coming. He’d been so against marrying you…” She pauses as we take a step inside of the hedge maze. Out of sight from our guests, a detail I didn’t miss. She holds her pause long enough to take a few different left and right turns inside of the maze, waiting until she knows I’m lost to continue speaking. 

“... Don’t get me wrong. He thought you were pretty when we showed your picture, but Cole had a slew of women he was with before he married you. Had four or five other women who were wrapped around his finger. All at the same time.” 

I swallow hard at her words, my body suddenly a bit stiffer. Was I shocked that my husband had other women before we got together? No. I wasn’t shocked and I would’ve expected him to. He’s a rich heir to a family business and he had his pick of whatever woman he wanted. I was just a punishment he’d received. 

An arrangement to make him digestible to the public.

As he’d said on our wedding night. 

“Is there a point to this?” I ask as politely as I can. We take another turn into the maze as she smiles over at me.

“Part of being in our family is enduring everything that gets thrown at us. Mr. Brock and I have been married since we were 19 years old and I’m far from the only woman he’s been with. The Brock family males tend to have wandering eyes and I just want you to make sure you understand your role once Colby decides he wants to play with someone new...”

My stomach turns as she continues. Another turn deeper into the maze. 

“...You’ll be expected to endure it. You’ll be expected to stand by him and love him, even if he starts fucking someone else. You’re going to be the best mother you can be and you’ll turn a blind eye to any of his future indiscretions. We will not permit a divorce should you want one, so you will just endure it. You may even find that there’s someone else you can turn to for comfort if you need to.  Maybe even Sam?...” She pauses once more, another turn deeper. She takes a look at my face, amused by the discomfort her comment has caused. Did she know about what Sam felt? Did he tell her?

“... Ever since they were children, the boys shared everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if they shared you too.”

I’m unsure of what to say as I hear the faint sound of feet hitting the ground behind us. Mrs. Brock ignores it (or doesn’t hear it yet) and I can’t help but feel unsettled by it all. I hadn’t noticed someone following us. I glance over my shoulder for a mere second before she tugs me along. Clearly she’s unhappy that my attention wavered for a moment. My lips part to say something, but when I try to speak. She stops me. We stand at a corner with a perfect view of the center of the maze. A blind spot to the person who’s standing there, but a perfect view for us to watch on. 

In the center of the maze stands a woman, in a black slinky dress. Her long hair a darker s

hade of brown, her beautiful face glancing around to see if someone is there. From behind her, Colby emerges, his hands at his side as he looks at her from behind. Silently he makes his way over to the woman, standing a good four feet from the woman. The woman looks at him longingly, but he looks at her in a frozen rage. She takes a step forward, her hands reaching for him. Colby doesn’t let her touch him, he takes a step back. An action that causes her great distress, tears filling her eyes. 

“You wanted to talk, so talk.”

He rasps, his tone biting. A tone I prayed wouldn’t ever be on the receiving end of. She looks so broken up by how he’s speaking with her. As if she never believed he’d speak to her in such a way. She moves her hands once more to reach for him, but she stops herself at the last second. 

“Come on baby, I know you’re not happy with off-brand Princess Diana…” She rasps, her eyes moving to her feet as she thinks of what else to say. 

“... Don’t you remember how good I make you feel? Don’t you remember all of the good times we had?”

She slurs her words in an attempt to speak as fast as she can. As if she’s afraid she won’t be able to get out what she wants to say. A part of me feels bad for her, regardless of the words she’s said about me. She looked like she’d fallen in love with Colby and didn’t know how to take it now that he was done with her. 

Would he do the same when he was done with me?

I shake the thought from my head as Colby speaks;

“I understand this has been hard on you. I never intended on falling in love with her, but I have and you need to respect that. It's been over a year since I got married, longer than that since the last time we hooked up, and you need to move on. I’m not cheating on her and I’m not about to disrespect the life we’re building together.”

He speaks quietly, his eyes never leaving her. He’s eerily calm compared to the woman before him, who breaks down. With her arms wrapped around herself to self-soothe, her sobs fill the air. I should feel relieved that he’s not going to cheat, but I do feel for the girl who’s clearly heartbroken. I sympathize with her pain and wish there was something I could do to take it away.

“He says that now…”

My mother-in-law whispers in my ear, so quietly no one else can hear. No one could know we’re watching.

“...but one day he’ll do what they all do. And you need to be prepared for it. You will always represent our family because if you ever try to leave we will do far worse than hurt your father.”

I swallow hard when she says this, my eyes watering. 

“You care about a lot of people, Emilia. And if you ever do anything that threatens our family we will kill them all. Every person you’ve cared for will pay for your mistakes.” 

I keep my eyes forward, silent tears escaping me as I silently watch the scene before me. Colby doesn’t offer her any comfort, even though his gaze does soften when he sees her cry. But he remains distant, almost like he’s afraid any kindness would give her false hope. It’s when she sobs a little harder that I have to pull my eyes from her, my gaze finding my mother-in-law. She appears satisfied with this latest form of psychological torture she’s forcing me to endure. I almost wondered if she got off on putting people through hell. Her smile turns wicked as she unlinks her arm from mine and takes a step back. Admiring her work, at how shaken she’s made me. I take a few steps backward, my eyes never leaving hers. 

She’s an absolute monster.

I can’t stop thinking those words over and over again on a loop as we stare at one another. We stare at each other in silence until I hear the same sound I’d heard earlier. The once faint feet on the ground were now a full on stomp. I glance over my shoulder and feel myself freeze as the feet stop behind my mother and reveal a man with unkempt hair. His body is shaking, his hands trembling as I realize he has a weapon in his hand. 

A gun.

He looks at me for one moment, his index finger moving to his lips as he studies me. 

“I’m not here for you.”

He growls, his eyes wild and unhinged. I breathe a shallow breath and watch as his attention turns to my mother-in-law. Her eyes narrow when he points the weapon at her, almost as if she’s challenging him to do his worst. Like she knows he doesn’t have the guts to do what he’s threatening to do. She lifts her head, looking down at him with her nose in the air. A look of defiance on her face. 

“Lady, I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. I already got your husband. I’m just finishing the job.”

The defiance on her face wavers when he says this and my blood runs cold. He’d already gotten to Mr. Brock? When did that happen? The maze wasn’t that far from the house. Surely we would’ve heard the screaming. Surely it wouldn’t have gone completely over our heads like this. There was no way, right? 

His eyes say otherwise.

The look in his eyes tells me that he did do as he said. That he did something terrible to a terrible man and was about to do it to his wife. Mrs. Brock looks over at me, pleading for me to do something, but I can’t do anything. All I can do is stand there frozen to the spot as the man before me does the unthinkable, followed by a loud pop. 

I see it all unravel before me. The splatter of red, the thud of a body hitting the ground, and the look on the man’s face as he reached for me. He notices that I’m fainting before I do, his hands light on me as he guides me to the ground so I don’t hurt myself. 

I look at the man, my vision blurring as he turns the weapon on himself and causes another loud pop. More red rains down over my body and another thud falls at my feet. I’m unable to scream or move as shock overtakes me. I can’t do anything but let my blurred vision overtake me until I black out. 

My mother-in-law’s lifeless eyes being the last thing I see before my world turns completely black.

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the 

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna. 

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third  chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up. 

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless. 

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip. 

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back. 

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea. 

You always felt protective over Kiri. 

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

 “So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you  can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away. 

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes. 

Sometimes you hate what you are. What  you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you. 

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.  

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You  shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You  sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of 

Your  bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention. 

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.” 

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them.  You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp. 

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu. 

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya. 

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for  snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of  nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.” 

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your  heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.” 

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard? 

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now? 

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment. 

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold. 

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all  her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it. 

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n.  You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter.  It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey-

There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies. 

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar. 

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me. 

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) ,  if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n. 

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her. 

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward. 

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, she was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance.  A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan. 

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve  finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag. 

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening. 

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'. 

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail. 

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object. 

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

 “Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after. 

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

Taglist

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@0stargirl0

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello there!! Thanks for all the advice you’ve given thus far!! It’s been a huge help in my writing journey, though I find that the ONE thing I still struggle with is finding time to work on some of my current writing projects.

I work an 8-5 through the week, and on weeknights and weekends I’m trying to catch up on energy to prepare for the next week ahead. Do you have any tips or suggestions on what I can do to try and sneak some writing in? Thanks in advance!

Tips for Sneaking Writing Into a Busy Schedule

#1 - Figure Out Your "Three B's" - If you're struggling to fit writing into a busy schedule, the first thing you should do is figure out your "three B's"... the bare minimum, better, and best amount of time you can commit to writing each day. The bare minimum amount of time should be a ridiculously low number, ten minutes or less, that you can manage even on the busiest of busy days. The better amount should be the most reasonable amount of time... a balance between a logical amount of productivity and the reality of your schedule. If you have a lot of busy days, this should probably be somewhere between fifteen minutes and an hour. And finally, the best amount is kind of the "pie in the sky" number... the reasonable amount of time you'd commit to writing if you had a day off and not a lot to do. The goal here is to aim for that middle number most days, but on long days when you have no energy leftover for writing, you've still got to hit that bare minimum. You don't even have to actually write during this "writing time." You can re-read a scene or chapter, edit, revise, brainstorm, research, look at inspiration photos, read a craft book... anything that moves the needle on your WIP in some way.

#2 - De-Stress Writing - Our brains are wired to avoid things that cause us stress, and stressful things also take a lot of energy to deal with. So, if you get even a little stressed thinking about your WIP or writing in general, you're gonna have a harder time committing to that bare minimum, better, or best writing time. The best thing you can do to de-stress writing for yourself is to stop giving yourself a hard time for not writing, not reaching goals, not completing tasks, etc. Give yourself grace, tell yourself it's okay, you'll hit that bare minimum tomorrow. Other things you can do: set up a reward system for yourself for when you hit small but important goals, eat or drink a favorite treat while you write, burn a scented candle, or listen to some soft music.

#3 - Create a Writing Ritual - Sometimes it helps to take a few minutes to switch your brain into "writing mode." This can be any number of little things that tells your brain "it's time to write now." It can be putting your phone on silent, sitting in a particular spot, lighting a scented candle, repeating a mantra, doing some stretches or meditating, listening to a certain song or putting on a particular type of soft music, or even a particular treat or beverage. When you choose a few things like this to do every time you sit down to write, and only when you sit down to write, your brain will start to associate those things with writing which helps it slip into "writing mode."

#4 - Eliminate Distractions - This one is really important when you have limited time... When you sit down for your writing time, put your phone on silent or set up "do not disturb" so that only really important calls/texts will come in. Avoid radio stations or music with lyrics if the talk is going to distract you. Use an internet blocking app if you can't trust yourself to fall down Google rabbit holes. Let people know you're going to be writing during that time and ask them not to disturb you. Anything you can do to eliminate distractions will help.

#5 - Boost Your Energy - No matter how busy you are, most of us have time in our schedule to commit to writing, even if that means getting up fifteen minutes early. However, if we feel tired and lack the energy to write, it can be very easy to pretend that fifteen minutes isn't available or that we need every last minute of sleep we can get. In that case, try doing a little energy booster before your writing time. This might be having a cup of coffee or a high energy breakfast smoothie, it could be taking a cold shower or listening to an energetic favorite son. If you can move your body for a few minutes, that helps, too. Walking, running in place, or jumping jacks are great if you're able to do them. If not, energetically moving any part of your body can give you a little energy boost... enough to get you through that bare minimum writing time.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[icypantherwrites]

Thank you so so much to the person who reported my account to AO3 for commercialization and a violation of TOS because of this author's note on one of my stories:

"In this particular story, while unresolved from a criminal standpoint, Lance does at least have Keith's support and that can make a world of difference. So many do not even have that though (and especially in red states where if you tell the wrong person... living in a dystopian nightmare) so I wanted to take a moment to link you to RAINN -- the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network -- if you ever need to reach someone, if you ever need to talk, and, if you're like me, able to donate so victims can receive help and support."

Apparently the phrase "like me, able to donate" is a solicitation. It takes a sad, bitter person to go through years of my works to report such an innocuous sentence designed to help others and just as crappy for AO3 to determine that somehow that is a violation. I can't count how many charity zines I've seen advertised on AO3 or causes that creators are passionate about and want to share it with their readers, but apparently someone hates me that much. I'm used to the trolls (not used to, there's no getting used to the sheer hate and cruelty leveled at me because you don't like what I write rather than being an adult and hitting the back button) but I've accepted that. This though? This is just the reaction of some jealous, awful person that unfortunately has lasting repercussions.

I've now been suspended for 14 days. Apparently that's my sign to never try to advocate for charities again that are out there trying to help people. I hope whoever you are that felt the need to report my author's note about supporting a charity that you're happy with yourself.

Due to this, I may also be refraining from posting works going forward on AO3 because I have no idea at this point the limits people will go and what AO3 Support staff will somehow find valid. I will have to go back and scour my posts for any mention of charity zines (and heaven forbid what charity they supported) to wipe them out less I be seen soliciting for donations again.

Not that anyone is really reading my works these days, but whelp, I won't be posting for at least 2 weeks on AO3 to at minimum finish up the stories I already have there. I'll still be posting as normally scheduled on Patreon.

And while I can't do anything about AO3, if you'd like to make a positive difference I do highly encourage anyone to donate to RAINN and make some sunshine and rainbows out of this nasty storm ☀🌈.

[borathae]

which one of bts do you think would be more into a 24/7 dinamic (d/s)

I don’t think any of them would be really into that 🤔 idk maybe it’s because I'm not into it, so I can’t really see them liking it either but I don’t think any of them could be into that kinda thing. Especially not with their busy schedules, they wouldn’t really have the time to truly live in a "constant kink, set rules, fixed roles and different levels of power" dynamic.

But to still give you something cause we love to fantasise on here, Imma give you a "who would want to have a set day in the week for kink with a 24/7 (24/1) kinda dynamic" MTL list

Most

Yoongi

Jimin

Jungkook

Namjoon

Hoseok

Taehyung

Seokjin

Least

Yoongi -> either as a pillow prince sub who also wants to be roughed up a little and spend ages between your legs lapping at your sweetness with his fingers oh so wet from pumping them into you or a Daddy Dom with some Findom princess treatment as well. He'd probably want to buy you everything you want, cook for you, bathe you where he sits behind you and goes oh so delicately and it slowly turns into sexy touches and slow kisses before he has his hand between your legs drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you, maybe even with his hands around your throat gently. help. (yeah besties we have reached the point where I finally accept that I like that he might be into that. Don’t look at me, I still need to cope with my own kink developments, also i am talking TRUE Daddy Dom aka a loving safe caretaker vibe without the toxic heteronormativ take on the kink obviously, also no age play)

Jimin -> I see him as a teasing, flirty babyboy (not age play just a cutie patootie) who wants to sit on your lap or face he also wants to get pegged until he can't cum anymore i said what i said or if he Doms as a soft Dom with a imma take care of you but also tease the fuck outta you kinda vibe who would probably slide his hand in your panties every now and then throughout the day to give you an orgasm and then act all nonchalant again while you are literally all ruined, before he ends the day with passionate sex in the sheets fnnd

Jungkook -> prettiest subbbb who just wants to push his limits and give so mucccch like it's giving hours of oral, thigh riding, cockriding where he doesn't get to cum, also bondage and some painplay i said what i said or complete soft Dom giving princess treatment and rough sex later *dies* like fuckkckc he'd just treat you so well throughout the day, give you neck kisses and do something soft like do your hair or your skincare for you BEFORE he literally ruins you in the sheets

Namjoon -> another canditate for true Daddy Dom or if he subs, I see him as a service sub babyboy a'la "i'm a smol and fragile cuddlebean" I feel like he needs to feel small (not age wise but size wise) sometimes and he'd want to use the day to be your little cutie with lots of cuddles and soft, meaningful sex later. As a Daddy Dom I feel like he'd want to rub your feet and give you slow oral on the couch, then read a book to you as he strokes your hair before making you ride him slowly, like he's giving soft but sexy

Hoseok -> lowkey I feel like he'd be mean (sexy) and just use the day to edge the fuck outta you and the night to fuck orgasm after orgasm outta you. I lowkey think he doesn’t sub a lot but if he does, he'd want the same treatment, but he'd be a lot whinier about it jfjadsj. he wouldn't want to leave the house the entire day and would probs already wake you up with his mouth on your sweetness like you and he would feel DONE once the day is over. this day is a sex day for him where he'd probably forget that it's about a D/s dynamic in the middle of it, which is why I put him so low. he just wants to fuccck

Taehyung -> surprise I put him quite low, but I feel like he wouldn’t really see the thrill in it. He would rather dedicate a day to romancing and the night to passionate sex. What he could enjoy is some findom where he takes you shopping and decides what you can and can't have, that could work for him. If he subs, I see him liking the day more because then, he'd want you to be artsy with him and he can look pretty for you

Seokjin -> I genuinely can’t see him liking it, he'd be all like "can’t we just do something else? Go somewhere fun, eat something yummy and then just dedicate a few hours to sex later?" if the dynamic truly has to happen 24 hours he'd want it reduced to petnames (like only calling each other Madam/Sir or babygirl/boy) for most of it and then dedicate a few hours to sex where more kink happens

[eirikrjs]

UPDATE 9/2/23

Wow, it's almost fall and I'm still kickin', so here's a proper update about what's been going on with me. I do feel great most days, and with Halloween in season around the US, it makes me very happy. As far as stroke recovery goes, my leg has a newly made brace and my walking in general has greatly improved the past few months. I really don't roll my left foot anymore, in other words, my foot can go flat instead of landing on the ankle and possibly causing injury.

My arm is still mostly nothing but a couple weeks back I was able to move my shoulder again so there's hope. I also got a home electrical stimulation device so I give my arm and hand a jolt for an hour everyday. With time, I feel confident i'll recover.

A great help with my recovery has been the amazing @dagdasgoddess , a fellow young stroke survivor who has been watching out for me and offering encouragement every day for a couple months now, exactly when I needed it. Mentally, stroke recovery is pretty damn tough but most days I feel positive about it, with great thanks to her.

And now on to some business. Shortly before my stroke I was planning on celebrating the 10th anniversary of my blog (which would have been in December of last year, but I was still in the hospital, obviously...) And one of the things I was going to do was photograph and review all the smt demon figures I have, using my special diorama table. I got around to starting the project a couple weeks before the stroke, naturally starting with the Leonard figure. Here's one of the pics:

I also made something of an anniversary banner, just because, I guess:

I also want to talk about some milestones reached, starting with some follower counts. By December last year I finally surpassed 2k followers, so thank you so very much. This is after Kanekos Crib Notes quickly dwarfed my own blog followers shortly after its establishment in like 2014. But now my own blog is even ahead of kcn, as undoubtedly its current annual schedule limits its growth and reach. (But hey, it's almost October, aka KCN MONTH)

The last milestone is above: my Stealing Knowledge blogger has reached half a million views! Unbelievable, thanks for reading and sharing over the years! Identity crisis part 3 remains the most viewed, with over 50k on its own.

Finally, I want to talk about the future. Another 10th anniversary plan was to try and monetize the blog somehow, probably via a Patreon for new articles and such and many other ideas, maybe even doing YouTube videos to answer asks instead of them being all text. I have lots of other ideas too, but they'll have to wait until my arm works again. So instead of monetizing the future, for now I'm just going to ask y'all kindly to chip in for the blog's past. I'm amazed at how much activity the blog still generates from--let's call it "legacy content".

To that end, I have set myself up a kofi account where you can show your appreciation for that "legacy", kuwabara, kuwabara, if you'd like. All money earned will go towards paying down bills accrued during my recovery, like my hyperbaric treatments. In perfect honesty, it's been around 3000 US dollars so far. Don't feel obligated to contribute and thank you all for still sticking around with me despite my relative inactivity. And if course, continue keeping @sorenblr busy if you wish.

I would also not expect my own recovery before next year, that's just stroke for you. Thank you all!!!!!

p.s. I was featured as a stroke survivor again on another therapy facebook post:

[srbachchan]

DAY 5676

Jalsa, Mumbai Sept 1/2, 2023 Fri/Sat 12:15 AM

AND MY SINCERE APOLOGIES FOR THE MISS OF A BIRTHDAY ..

EF Moha Mehta Birthday

Friday, 1 September .. greetings and love from us all .. and apologies again .. the timings of my schedule and the pressures of work caused this miss .. 🌹

Birthday - EF Ashfaq Khatri Saturday, 2 September .. all good wishes fro this day and happy birthday .. from the Ef family .. ❤️

.. still running on to KBC ..

a few thoughts for the DAY and then on to the job ..

the agility of the contestants .. their life stories and their determination all are filled with wonder and emotion .. they come from remote regions of the country .. they have hardly any facility to become knowledged enough to be on the seat with the most .. and they accomplish this feat with immense credibility and reach the summit of all they desire ..

it changes their life in a few moments, from nothing but expectation to the ultimate .. not just a sea change but an entire Universe .. their ability is jaw dropping, their demeanour simple servile and just so so endearing .. and their responses to the most incredibly difficult questions of the day stump you and you are aghast with the kind of confidence and accomplished sensibilities they exhibit ..

this land is my land and this land is the bed of fertile humans in every walk of life .. some of them one has the privilege to meet on the platform called KBC and their be in impress of their acumen ..

the surge of cheer and applause at each turn of event has given proof of the steadfast belief in the show and the kind of intensity it provides for the entire family ..

at the end of the show the opportunity I get to take some pictures for the record with the audience is turning out to be the most enlightening moments of the day .. the variety of the mass, the 'janta janardhan' their beliefs and dreams as well leave me stumbling for answers , which I find very hard to digest and expand too ..

of course my worthiness is limited .. and it becomes extremely embarrassing to be told quite the opposite .. so one digests it, without the belief of belief , and stumbles along the path ..

I must stumble on to my bed .. for the day of work is ever taxing and energy consuming ..

I shall be with you again .. later

my love and prayers ever ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[zebulontheplanet]

I am experiencing what I think is autism regression (as does my therapist) and am wondering about your experience and what ways you used to deal with it and if there is any way you know of to work with your limits? (if you aren't comfortable with asks like this let me know)

Hey there! I’m completely comfortable with asks and questions. So, I have autism regression caused by autism catatonia, so it’s a bit different from regular regression or skill regression caused by burnout.

DO NOT use this post to self diagnose regressive autism catatonia. If you suspect you have autism catatonia then reach out to a professional right away.

Autism regression for me is heavily tied to my autism catatonia, so if you’re just looking for regular regression caused by burnout, then I’m not the person to ask about that. My regression started as young as 17, although I’ve always had skill regression in some areas. I’ve always had to keep learning things to keep up with it and keep maintenance. Things like tying your shoes, basic mathematics, basic reading, etc etc. I’d lose skills in them and have to re-learn it, over and over again. My true regression started becoming noticeable when I was 17. It was fairly slow. Started out with sensory issues, then sensory issues turned into loss of control with meltdowns, then that turned into loss of social skills, then that turned into loss of the ability to mask, then that turned into loss of the ability to complete iADLs, then that turned into loss of the ability to complete bADLs, and then loss of ability to communicate verbally and becoming semiverbal, then loss in cognitive and intellectual skills, and then soon, and more recently, loss in all verbal skills and becoming completely nonverbal.

It was a constant one thing after the other. It was slow, and started out subtle. Things like stimming more turned into stimming constantly, masking less turned into not being able to mask at all, etc etc.

Along with this came catatonic episodes, and those were hard to deal with as well. I have some catatonic episodes that last up to a few minutes, to some that last up to an hour. Semi-catatonic episodes are very common for me as well, and it just means that I become increasingly slow in movements, and feel like I’m going through quicksand.

Also what came along was needing prompts for each and every task. Something as simple as taking a bowel of cereal turned into “ok now, you need to take this to your sister. Go take it to your sister now” instead of “ok, this needs to go to your sister, can you take it to her?” And so on. I have to have a lot of help with things, and sometimes hand over hand help with things. It’s very frustrating because I know I can do it, but my body feels trapped and confused and doesn’t understand.

I work with it by having strict schedules and routines. If those routines and schedules get broken, automatically catatonic. I also need intense prompting, and require assistance for what people think are just second nature and “common sense”. Everyone is different, some people definitely need more support then others. And compared to others with autism catatonia, I have mild to moderate autism catatonia. Which says a lot because I need a LOT of support. It just goes to show how bad it can get. I deal with it one day at a time and with the care and support of friends and family.

I hope this answers your question and feel free to ask more! Have a lovely day!

[curio-queries]

FACE, LETTER, & CLOSER THAN THIS

Disclaimer: The following post is full of my own opinions and interpretations. I do not share this with the intent to convince anyone else that this meaning upholds for all. My interpretations are also limited to English and that is an important distinction to make when accessing art from another language and culture. There are absolutely intentions and meanings that won't translate. Art is beautifully subjective, and I hope you all find your own reasons to love Jimin's music.

This is quite a lengthy post. Thank you to anyone who reads. I'd love to hear your thoughts as well, so don't feel shy to share! 💜

So FACE has been out for nearly a year, why am I making this post now? Honestly, it's all because of Closer Than This and the few nuggets we can glean from the music video. The very first clip of the mv is of Jimin's team discussing the lyrics and then Jimin's recording session. Honestly, I was quite surprised CTT was written at the same time as all of the FACE songs.

So the question then rises: Why wasn't CTT included in FACE? The answer I've arrived at is because CTT is not part of the journey Jimin was describing with FACE. More on CTT below but first, we need to revisit FACE:

TIMELINE

(US dates - I have to do too much timezone manipulation in my job, I'm not spending the time here):

30 DEC 2018 : Promise Release on SoundCloud

21 FEB 2023 : FACE announcement

16 MAR 2023 : Set Me Free pt.2 Release

23 MAR 2023 : FACE Release

22 DEC 2023 : Closer Than This Release

And here's the FACE schedule:

MOTTO-THEME-GUIDE

These phrases are ALL OVER the FACE project! They're in the digital media that was released, on pretty much every side of the physical albums, on the back of the photocards and postcards... They're pretty much on everything official connected to FACE. They're not just fluff included to fill up space; these words have MEANING in this project. I've been using these phrases as guide posts to help me interpret some of the meanings behind FACE recently, and I would encourage anyone interested in Jimin's deeper message to do the same. I've highlighted my references below.

Circles of Resonance Reflection of vulnerable minds and unexposed wounds. An echo, tremor and small movement to reach you. Face of facing the deepest part of inner-self. Face, the reflection of myself in an unfamiliar appearance. Waves originated from the deepest invisible inner world, pass through the face on the surface and reach others to resonate while transmitting the inner voice. Waves spread beautifully, finding its own flow despite wounds and distortions from a smallest scratch. The face of unwavering effort despite repeated falls and pain.

When asked what the album was about, Jimin freely shares that it relates to the events during the pandemic...and then the conversation usually moves on without any deeper discussion. This interview is probably the most verbose Jimin was any time he described the meaning behind FACE. If you haven't watched it recently, I highly recommend it.

We know that Jimin rarely shares the problems he's having whilst he's going through them (with us at least). He always waits until after he's moved on so that he can tell us not to worry, that it's in the past. (This concept comes up again in this post so keep it in mind.)

The distinction that I think is important to make is that, yes, FACE is about the pandemic, but it's not a straightforward diary of events. It's about how those events affected him. How the waves caused by the pandemic RESONATE, ECHO, and TREMOR through him - effecting the UNEXPOSED WOUNDS. Jimin found something in himself through this experience and had no choice but to FACE it. There were no distractions anymore, no pushing it to the side to deal with later. And he was able to share that journey with us in such a tragically beautiful way.

THE TRACKS

I made the below gifs for each track but I think they look best as a set without the tags so you can get the full effect of the differing ripples. Check out this post to see what I mean. ☺️

FACE-OFF

I know everyone likes to meme about Face-Off and trying to find who hurt Jimin to make them pay...but I really don't associate Face-Off with an external person. You can betray yourself in much worse ways than anyone else can because you know exactly all of your own weaknesses. You know exactly what pretty lies to tell yourself. And honestly, the source of the event doesn't really matter in the context of FACE. I view Face-Off as the initial incident. The SMALLEST SCRATCH that pushes the waves to spread.

There's also a lovely bit of foreshadowing with the lyric "Like crazy, everyone shout out, yeah yeah". CIRCLES OF RESONANCE. Not singular, multiple; we are in for a bumpy ride.

INTERLUDE : DIVE

I admit, I only listen to this track when I'm doing a full album listen. I love instrumental tracks but this isn't instrumental to me, it's sound effects. And I just personally have a sensory issue that comes out to play here BUT it's important to include in our discussion so don't skip it when you're trying to delve into the meanings!

The message I glean here is just how pervasive the issue is becoming. Jimin can be going about his life, trying to disregard it but the UNEXPOSED WOUNDS are there lurking underneath it all.

The pretty music overlaying the track may sound like glitz and glam, but this is just the beginning of the WAVES SPREADING BEAUTIFULLY, FINDING ITS OWN FLOW DESPITE WOUNDS AND DISTORTIONS...

LIKE CRAZY

I've been promising a post on Like Crazy for ages and this may be the closest I get to it. Let me know if any of you are interested in a more in-depth discussion on how the movie and the song work together. My short summary for both is this: there are moments when you willfully take actions that you KNOW are against your best interest. Not in a fleeting eats-too-many-cookies way. In a I-know-putting-my-hand-on-the-stove-and-turning-it-on-will-burn-me way.

I hope none of you experience this to such a damning extent. I have. Despite being the kind of person who I thought would never venture down such a path. It's not something I wish upon anyone. This is the WAVES ORIGINATED FROM THE DEEPEST INVISIBLE INNER WORLD, PASS THROUGH THE FACE ON THE SURFACE...

ALONE

Have you ever repeated a word enough that it starts to sound bizzare? What if you got the point where you thought the weird sound was reality? And then you were confronted with the truth. This song is that point. Where you are left with the sober understanding of yourself. FACE, THE REFLECTION OF MYSELF IN AN UNFAMILIAR APPEARANCE.

SET ME FREE pt.2

The rise! Jimin was able to find a way to push himself beyond the betrayal of himself. It absolutely wasn't easy and there were setbacks, but this is a clear call to any who find themselves in similar circumstances: you CAN overcome. THE FACE OF UNWAVERING EFFORT DESPITE REPEATED FALLS AND PAIN.

Remember when I said earlier that Jimin only tells us about his struggle once it's over? I honestly believe that's why SMF was the pre-release track. He needed us to know that there was a happy ending before he would tell us about the pain he went through.

LIKE CRAZY (English Version)

As I mentioned my sensory issue above, I cannot talk about Like Crazy without mentioning the whispered English at the beginning/end. I HATE it sooooo much! It just twigs my brain in all the wrong ways. It's a huge part of why it took me a long time to appreciate LC. As much as I hate it though, it's absolutely necessary for the interpretation of LC. It firmly gives us a landmark into where and how the song relates to the movie. It also creates a bookend structure that gives the original and the English versions their own rightful places to exist.

LETTER

My very first post on this blog was a simple comparison of the lyrics in Like Crazy from the translation on the original music video to the english version. There is absolutely a difference here and I think it's a very important distinction that there are two versions of Like Crazy in the album. One is AN ECHO, TREMOR AND SMALL MOVEMENT TO REACH YOU. This phrase is for us, the audience. None of the other phrases use "you". Even though Jimin has set himself free, there are still CIRCLES RESONATING.

If you have seen any of my posts prior to this, you likely know how obsessed with Letter I am. I have the hardest time naming anything as a favorite (even favorite colour, there's just sooo many good uses of different colors) so I hope you understand how revolutionary it is for me to unequivocally state that Letter is my favorite song. Like ever. For all of my (cough*decades*cough) of music-listening, opinion-having life. Letter is THE ONE. Letter is it. I probably have stronger feelings about Letter than any relationship I've been in (but I'm aspec so take that with a grain of salt...)

I listen to Letter A LOT (sometimes on literal repeat - there's a video on YouTube that loops it for over an hour and I've definitely contributed several of those listens) and while working on this post, I would still get emotional hearing it at the end of FACE. This song is the absolute definition of the beauty that can only truly be understood after utter tragedy.

To me, Letter is about how this experience has effected Jimin to the point where there's a noticeable difference in the way he interacts with and appreciates those he loves, in all interpretations of the word love. WAVES...REACH OTHERS TO RESONATE WHILE TRANSMITTING THE INNER VOICE.

I am not using this post to debate the merits of exactly who Letter is for: a significant other, ARMY, or Jimin himself. Frankly, I don't think it matters to the meaning of the song. Use whatever flavour most appeals to you. That's the real genius and gift of Jimin's music imo. He creates it in such a way that we can fold it around our own personal stories and needs.

WHAT WAS THIS POST ABOUT AGAIN?

Right, so rewind to the release of Closer Than This. I'd had very little sleep as I traveled for the holidays and was absolutely feeling the timezone difference. But I stayed up to hear Jimin's new song. I listened to it first in Spotify and thought it sounded like a beautiful, happy, well-produced gift of a song - perfect for the end of the year and to comfort us with his departure for military service. Then I watched the mv to read the subtitles... Y'all, I absolutely was NOT expecting to see clips from the time covered in Jimin's Production Diary! I wouldn't have been surprised if it was the same team that Jimin worked with before but at a later time - he trusts them artisically after all. BUT these clips were the same angles and same conversations we saw from the development of FACE.

So I started my due diligence. Is it possible CTT was supposed to be part of FACE but they held it specifically to release when it did? I listened to FACE multiple times trying to insert CTT into the narrative. And it just doesn't fit this journey...at all. Like not in the slightest. I thought maybe immediately after Letter or even replacing Letter but no. I even tried inserting Promise as a bridge and it just doesn't work in the context of FACE.

CTT has a pretty literal storytelling narrative. It describes the journey WE have been on with Jimin. It lists his promises to US going forward. The music video being an album of memories, supports the nostalgic and loving viewpoint of the song. It has absolutely nothing to do with how Jimin was affected by the events of the pandemic or anything he found inside himself because of it.

Both songs have been described by Jimin as a 'fan song' and as I described in this post, there are many reasons that support both of them falling into this categorization. To me, Letter is more about Jimin having a deep intimate conversation with us because he trusts us. While CTT is literally about the relationship between ARMY and Jimin.

Anyway, I think that's all I've got to say about it for now. What are your thoughts? Should Closer Than This have been included in FACE? Was it just a marketing ploy to keep generating our interest after Jimin left?

(BTW I'm really happy with those FACE gifs and how the ripples look when they're together. They took some time to figure out. I just wish I had some better software to turn them into gifs so the colours display better, but alas, beggars can't be choosers. They look really great in the ppt that I made them in but I guess that's just for me to enjoy!)

[snowmist-hashira]

Hello! I hope you are having a good day so far🥰 I have a small request today :) So i was thinking a scene where muichiro has a long day of training, so he goes back to his bed to find the reader snuggling on it😆 muichiro then sits on his bed and covers the reader with his blanket <<33 i thought it was cute and wanted to see what you could create after than😊 Have a good day and thank you for reading this💕

[Chapter title: Shared Haven]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Twins x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Twins x Reader Details: ♠ Information ♠ Master list: ♠ Muichirou Tokitou ♠ Word count: 558

Artist: sui

Link; Pixiv

A brief one-shot story~ It's certainly shorter than my typical ones, but I hope I was still able to give it the attention it deserved. Have a good day over there as well, Anon~ (Scheduled)

The sky was painted in hues of orange and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon. Muichiro took a moment to bask in the tranquility of the evening, allowing the cool breeze to soothe his tired body, his breath heavy and sweat dripping down his brow. His body ached because of the intense training sessions he endured in order to push himself to his limits.

The repetitive motion had taken its toll on his hands that ached his palms, as he tightly gripped the wooden blade, that he had been swinging tirelessly all day. Luckily, despite the physical strain, he hadn't coughed up blood at all.

Once finished, Muichiro made his way back to his estate, his tired legs dragging slightly with each step. The familiar surroundings provided a sense of comfort as he entered his home. The soft, dimly lit interior welcomed him, offering solace from the outside world.

He walked through the halls, his footsteps muffled by the tatami flooring. As he reached his bedroom, Muichiro's eyes fell upon the inviting futon that lay neatly on the floor, however instead of finding his spot empty, his eyes widened in surprise as he beheld the unexpected sight of Y/n nestled on his futon.

The corners of his lips curled into a gentle smile, admiring her peaceful expression as she slept. He couldn't help but feel a warmth in his chest, an unexpected comfort in knowing that she had found solace in his home.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her slumber, Muichiro sat down next to Y/n on the futon. He studied her features, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, a soft tenderness filled his gaze as he watched her.

The exhaustion from his intense training session mixed with the calm atmosphere of the room, lulled him into a drowsy state. His eyelids grew heavy, and a yawn escaped his lips as his own weariness began to catch up with him.

Despite his own need for rest, Muichiro couldn't bring himself to disturb Y/n's peaceful slumber. He cherished this quiet moment, watching over her and appreciating her serene state. It was as if the weight of his weariness was lifted a bit, replaced by a sense of tranquility that only Y/n's presence could bring.

He then pulled the blankets back towards her, but Y/n started to stir in her sleep, causing Muichiro's heart to skip a beat, briefly breaking the tranquility of the moment. He froze, worried that his actions might have disturbed her peaceful slumber. However, as Y/n settled back into slumber, he let out a soft sigh of relief, realizing she was undisturbed.

Taking it as a sign that Y/n was now comfortable, Muichiro carefully tucked her in, making sure she was enveloped in the warmth and softness of the blankets. His touch was gentle, his movements careful not to wake her. As he adjusted the covers, Muichiro's fingertips brushed lightly against Y/n's cheek, a tender gesture filled with unspoken care.

Once satisfied, Muichiro shifted slightly on his cushion, finding a comfortable position to lean against the wall. As he settled in, Muichiro closed his eyes halfway, allowing himself to drift into a state of half-sleep, with a soft smile playing on his lips, he surrendered himself to the embrace of sleep, his own weariness finally catching up to him.

[mythicamagic]

The Drought: A Neuvillette x Lumine oneshot

Summary: A drought has set in, choking Fontaine's water supply. They say it rains when the hydro dragon cries- so what happens when the dragon is unable to shed tears?

Rated T,

2000+ words.

AN: Neuvillette is...so soft. I had to write this. Of course- it could age badly because we don't have all the information about Neuvillette and Fontaine yet - but for now I hope you enjoy!

----------

An unprecedented heat wave had hit Fontaine, the likes of which its citizens had never experienced before. It had lasted more than a month with no signs of stopping- and no rain in sight. 

Needless to say, the Hydro nation was beginning to suffer. Grass had dried up, becoming brittle and yellow. Whatever ice the people had managed to store soon melted the second it was exposed to the sun, and so Cyro and Hydro users were in demand. The canals and waterways were beginning to run dangerously low, affecting Aquabus services and travel.

What's more, this summer's paradise was taking place during the dead of winter. 

Despite this oddity, Lumine continued on with her commissions. It had been some time now since first setting foot in Fontaine but she'd become enamoured with it enough to accept commissions within the nation every day- and a little hot weather wasn't going to stop her.

"You go on ahead. Paimon will stay here where it's cool," Paimon had waved her off that morning from their hotel, floating sluggishly in the shade. 

Lumine felt a wince of sympathy for her. Not everyone could keep cool with the use of the hydro element. Water filled her palm on command- and she splashed it against the back of her neck, sighing with relief as she walked along the path.

"Are you doing alright?"

She blinked, glancing over at her companion. "I'm fine. I can still fight without any problems in the heat," she smiled, eyeing his heavy clothing. "I'm more concerned about you. Aren't you suffering in all…that?"

Monsieur Neuvillette of the Court of Fontaine and the kingdom's undercover Hydro dragon walked beside her, having taken time out of his busy schedule each day without fail to join her. 

"Oh, there is no need to worry. I have my own ways of keeping cool," he gave a polite smile in return. Lumine watched as his expression soon clouded over, attention straying to the empty paths near the usually busy Lucine Fountain. "Your concern should be for the people. They seem to have reached their limit for enduring this weather. In all my years- I've never witnessed such a drought in Fontaine. Truly it is…troubling."

Lumine stopped, lips thinning. Her heart clenched.

Neuvillette's quiet steps came to a halt, and he faced her curiously. "Is something the matter?"

Had he not realised it yet? Surely he had. The answer for why the drought had happened in the first place couldn’t be more obvious when one took into account who influenced the weather most in Fontaine. 

His kind eyes bore into hers, brows furrowing due to her silence. He was patient and empathetic, with an amiable if slightly awkward disposition- as if unused to having friends to talk with.

It was for all these reasons and more that Lumine had become a little- or okay, a lot selfish. She enjoyed his company too much. She should've stopped recruiting him the second she realized what was causing the drought.

"No, it's nothing," she shook her head, forcing a smile. 

Today will be the last day, she decided. Something inside her dimmed at the thought.

-------

They travelled across Fontaine throughout the morning and into the afternoon- fulfilling commissions together and diving into lush waters to reach their destinations quickly. Occasionally Lumine would grin to herself as she watched him swim. Though he had such a serious face, Neuvillete thrived in the water. He moved with an agile, effortless grace, barely kicking his legs. Sometimes he reminded her more of an otter than a dragon. 

He caught her eye during that particular thought, and she blushed, feeling caught. 

Silver hair danced around him as he smiled, offering a hand. Perhaps he thought she was lagging behind due to fatigue. 

Unable to do anything else but revel in indulgence, Lumine took it- her skirts puffing up in the current as she kicked her legs and followed him to the glittering surface. 

Even though the waters had no effect on her air supply, she took greedy breaths once her head broke the surface. 

"A spot of swimming in the afternoon is always refreshing, don’t you agree?" Slit pupils captured hers as Neuvillette smiled, treading water with her easily. 

Lumine bit her lip- unable to stifle the giggle that slipped free. He blinked at the outburst, tilting his head ever so slightly. 

Covering her mouth to try and stifle herself, golden eyes glittered fondly. “Not all of us can keep up with someone who somersaults underwater like an otter, but yes- it's very fun.”

He looked briefly chagrined. “Ah, my apologies. I lose sight of myself when I return to water,” he cleared his throat. “The Melusine often used to complain that I swam too quickly for them to keep up. It is fortunate I don’t use my original form when swimming with you or I’d be quite the disgraceful partner.”

Lumine waded to shore nearby, ringing out the moisture from her hair. “Actually, I’d like to see it someday,” she hummed. “Be warned though; I’ve seen plenty of dragons, so you’ve got a lot of competition if you want to dazzle m-” 

She’d turned absentmindedly, her words soon drying up on her tongue like Fontaine’s drought. 

Neuvillette had followed her to shore and was now removing his coat. The action was a simple one, yet it transformed his entire appearance. His strong frame that was usually obscured by the heavy fall of his coat was now within full view. He wore a dark waistcoat and white poets shirt beneath- the material hugging his torso distractingly. 

Lumine sucked in a sharp breath, running her attention over his arms as he pushed back his sleeves. Now was not the time to be oogling him. She’d be saying goodbye to their extended time together soon. 

She jolted when his gaze caught hers, his eyes briefly slinking down her drenched form. The action sent a thrill down her spine.

He straightened and approached her with slow, measured movements- and it was only in these quiet moments did Lumine really feel his presence. Neuvillette was a humble man by nature, but the ancient hum of energy and unspoken strength clung to him like a second skin if one really looked at him. She tilted her head back to keep eye contact, blood stirring with expectation. 

Neuvillette reached down and draped his coat around her shoulders. “Here- so that you do not catch a cold. I would hate for you to fall ill.”

All the air left her lungs in one fell swoop. Lumine made a noise- caught between several emotions at once. She settled on amusement, unable to stop smiling in his presence.

"You know, you're nothing like how I thought you'd be."

"Hm?"

"Before we met, I'd heard the Chief Justice was a cold and absolute judge. I never expected you to be so…" it was a struggle to find the words. She adjusted the coat around her shoulders and gripped the parting with one hand, beginning to walk with him along the shore. "Refreshing. Earnest, in a way. You couldn't help us with certain things because of the restraints of the justice system but it was clear you cared. Now that I've spent time with you, I can see how clumsy you are with socializing too."

"I think there was a compliment in there, so thank you," he chuckled. The sound was rich and genuine, washing over Lumine like gentle, rolling tides. "Honestly, I never envisioned myself adventuring around Fontaine in my spare time to find lost dogs or defeat wicked thieves."

He turned his immortal gaze upon her, shining with renewed light. "But any time spent with you has been delightfully invigorating. I haven't felt like this since-" he hesitated, then became thoughtful. "Well I cannot remember when. You have done much by inviting me into your teapot and regaling me with stories about other nations and worlds- allowing me to sample their food and marvel at their decor in ways I never could from hearsay. Truly, I will cherish the memories we've made."

He paused, and the silence was so lengthy it felt deafening. He came to a halt, and she stopped, a sick, expectant feeling twisting in her gut. "But I also understand that we cannot continue. That is what you are struggling to say, is it not? I apologize if it has caused you undue stress by trying to find a way to dismiss me from your company but don't worry. I…have been very selfish this past month," his confession slipped out in a small voice. "I put my wants and happiness over the needs of the people. The moment I understood my joy was having an effect on the weather- I should have severed our connection…"

He had more courage than she did. More conviction to do what was needed. Lumine had thought she was a stronger person before meeting him- spending time with him. She felt more worthy of the title ‘selfish’ than he, especially since she opened her mouth and asked;

"Why didn't you?"

Neuvillette stiffened, hands drawing into loose fists at his sides. "I think it would be best if we didn't explore that question further," his expression became so soft and sad in the light of the setting sun that Lumine had to break eye contact. Her heart squeezed, unknown emotions welling up inside her. 

"It's not selfish of you to be happy, Neuvillette. But I understand your thought process and…you’re right that things can't continue like this. I…I really enjoyed our time together too."

She hated this. She wished it didn't have to be like this. He deserved to be happy as much as anyone.

Neuvillette leaned into a low gentleman's bow, plucking her hand from her side.

Lumine stiffened as achingly soft lips pressed to the back of her hand in a long, reverent kiss. Her breathing hitched- those winter lashes lifting to pin her with a look so inhuman and intense it made her reel. Heat roared to life in her lower stomach, her face flaming red. For just a brief moment, he was neither a judge nor a man, but rather an ancient power that had been slumbering in the bedrock of his heart. 

But then he was straightening and turning away with a final nod of farewell. "Good day, madame. Perhaps we may meet up sparingly in the coming weeks? It would please me greatly. "

"Yes, of course," she swallowed thickly. "I'd love to."

She mournfully parted with his coat, handing it back to him. With an awkward curtsey, Lumine began walking away along the shoreline. Every step felt difficult, as if carrying heavy stone. 

Logically she knew something had to change. They couldn't continue as they were. The citizens of Fontaine needed rain. If the Hydro dragon's happiness kept rain away- then what choice did they have?

Something compelled her to look back, even though she knew she shouldn't. Just one look would be fine, right? She needed to know he was okay.

Neuvillette stood amongst the rocks where she'd left him, looking out at the sea. His face was otherwise indifferent as waves crashed, flicking spray up toward him. With his coat tucked into the crook of his elbow and his back cutting a regal figure, he looked every inch the Chief Justice of Fontaine.

Perhaps it was all in her head. Maybe he'd be fine and the weather would settle naturally. Lumine reluctantly turned away and kept walking, her boots crunching along the sand.

Something small and light splashed upon her forehead. And then more- again and again, kissing her skin in water droplets.

"Legend says that it rains when the hydro dragon weeps."

She stopped, tilting her head back to behold the sudden grey skies filled with heavy clouds. The rain lashed harder upon her shoulders until it felt like a torrential downpour. Her hair and clothes were soaked through in seconds. 

Lumine didn't care about that though. She looked back again and noticed Neuvillette had begun walking away, heading in the general direction of the Court of Fontaine. 

This is stupid.

Her feet were moving before she knew it. She ran quicker and quicker, putting every effort into each step with a burst of speed until she was reaching out and grabbing his arm.

With a tug, she turned him enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes. 

Neuvillette stilled, offering a weak smile. "We successfully called back the rain," he said, so quietly it was a miracle she heard him over the downpour. He blinked, lashes wet. "Was there something else you needed- mnph!"

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, Lumine pulled with all her might until he was yanked from his impressive height right down to her mouth. Pressing up on tip-toe against him, she kissed him hard, pouring no small amount of feeling into it. Her heart thundered against her ribcage. He tasted like rain, lips cold and unresponsive. For a moment she wavered, wondering if she’d gone too far- until an arm wrapped around her waist. Clawed fingers slid into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck. He practically bowed her backwards with the force of his answering kiss, stealing her breath. She felt his hands shake with want of her- claws scraping her skin in a way that left her shuddering. 

“What was-?” he swallowed when they parted, panting softly. “I thought we were in agreement that this could not continue? The skies are already clearing again.”

Sure enough, those dark clouds were dispersing, slowly taking the brief shower with them. Lumine paid it no heed, reaching up and stroking a thumb across his cheek to catch a stray bead of water. “We did. But I’ve decided to renege on that agreement. You can take me to court over it if you like,” she said, looking up into his conflicted eyes. “The people’s happiness shouldn’t come at the cost of your own.”

When he opened his mouth to argue, Lumine hushed him with another kiss. “We were too quick to give up,” she murmured once they’d pulled away, whispering ardently into the space between them. “There’s a solution here where we can have both. Let’s experiment. Since your moods control the weather in Fontaine, all we have to do is find a balance. Maybe even trick your own emotions.”

“Trick them…” Neuvillette repeated in a quiet voice. Shocked, but intrigued- the way he’d always looked when asking for more of her stories. “A novel concept. How, pray tell?”

Lumine gave him one of her best smiles, taking his hand and squeezing it in her own. In that squeeze was a promise: A silent vow that she’d do her best to see to his continued joy. “You’ve heard of happy tears, haven’t you?”

-----

End

[neomujinjja]

They accidentally trigger your allergy Headcanon

Pairing: Stray kids x reader

Genre: headcanon

Warning: not edited, experiencing allergic reaction(s)*, not knowing your allergies, allergy medicine (pills), being careless with your allergies, some members headcanons are shorter than the others

Note: *I.N's is the only with an anaphylactic reaction, the rest are just redness, swelling, and itchiness. majority of the allergies and their reactions are based off my own experiences or those of my family (so not a big range)

Bang Chan

he's just trying to be sweet

giving you a bouquet of pretty flowers, chan thinks you'll like

you keep the flowers in your living room

plus you had already taken your allergy medicine

it's not until the next morning that he learns about your pollen allergy

you walked out of the bedroom, making breakfast for yourself and chan

when he walks out and is confused by your sudden stuffy nose

"are you sick?"

"no, it's my allergies"

"allergies?"

"yeah, my pollen allergies"

babe feels so bad!!

he's apologizing and promising to not to buy flowers again

you tell him that it's okay and he doesn't have to worry

explaining that it's only a light reaction and you're fine as long as you take your medicine

either way, chan feels so bad about it

and he's asking about any more allergies you might have

Lee Know

minho was trying out a new recipe

it just happens to contain a lot of tomatoes and lemons

and it slips his mind to how much citric acid content there is

later after the two of you enjoy the meal

you make complaints about itchiness and redness

minho goes through what you've ate recently with you

the two of you land on the new meal that's he made

of course minho feels terrible and apologizes

you ensure him that you believe he didn't do it on purpose and you're at fault too

Changbin

date night~

changbin takes you to this italian inspired restaurant

you ordered yourself a pasta with shrimps (think shrimp alfredo)

on the way home, changbin notices how much you're itching

then once home, he also sees that your ears seem to be swelling up too

changbin insists on bringing you to the hospital to get checked out

there the doctor informs you that it's allergic reaction to the shrimps in your pasta

they give you medicine to relieve your symptoms and inform you to be careful

you also schedule a date to receive allergy testing to prevent this happening again in the future

Hyunjin

it's a relatively hot summer

so you and hyunjin make a home-made fruit platter

it's got watermelon for hyunjin alongside grapes, blueberries, blackberries, and peaches

as someone with allergies himself, he is very careful about dealing with yours

but one too many grapes leaves your mouth feeling itchy

hyunjin immediately cuts you off after realizing

he also jokingly scolds you for not knowing your limit and triggering your allergy

if you try to grab any more grapes then hyunjin lightly taps your hand or pushes the grapes further out your reach

he isn't going to allow for you to experience a severe allergic reaction on his watch

Han

you guys decide order take out for dinner

jisung knows about your allergy to shellfish/seafood

so you guys order fried rice, orange chicken, chow mein with beef and broccoli

specifically steering away from any shrimp dishes

neither of you realize that some of the food is cooked with oyster sauce

the both of you are hungry so you're digging in once the food is delivered

you start sniffling and itching as you're eating

jisung looks up to see that you're swelling up

he gets up and rushes to get your medicine

he has to urge you to take it as you're confused

"take your medicine"

"what?"

"you're having an reaction"

"i am?"

the two of you are still confused as to the cause

you guys text stray kids resident chefs who give you the answer: oyster sauce

jisung apologizes but you tell him it's okay

then you order for some pizza to be delivered

no one lets the either of you (especially you) live this incident down

Felix

we all know that felix enjoys baking

i believe that he'd experiment with new treats upon free time

and felix decides that he's going to tackle snickerdoodles

he's heard you talk about how much you like the cookies as well

so he finds a recipe online and gets baking

you walk into the dorm to cookies that have cooled down just enough to eat but still warm from their time in the oven

it took about five cookies in til you began having a reaction

becoming curious about what caused the redness and swelling presenting itself on your arm

you ask felix about the ingredients he used for the cookies

felix begins listing the ingredients one by one, getting to nutmeg

nodding your head, you realize what's behind your reaction

felix is confused until you explain it to him, that by extension your body reacts to the seasoning

he's quick to apologize, kissing your face and promising to find a recipe that doesn't contain nutmeg

(the rest of the cookies go to members and felix's friends)

Seungmin

the boys are back from tour

but just for a bit before they start the next leg of it

you go to visit seungmin

he brought snacks back with him

so you two are eating on them while catching up and watching tv

then your mouth feels itchy

seungmin: "what's wrong?"

you: "i don't know" 🤷

cue seungmin searching what it could be

and you guys looking up the ingredients online

he comes to the inclusion that it must be an allergic reaction

you're surprised cause you've never experienced this before

seungmin makes you vow to be diligent with your new found allergy

and to go to the doctor for a further check up

you guys go out to buy some over-the-counter medicine for the meantime

I.N

you guys are just out for the night

walking around, enjoying the chill air

maybe buying snacks from convenience stores

or window shopping

unfortunately there's been a big pollen outbreak

and you didn't take your medicine as you hadn't realized

you and jeongin have been out for about 30 minutes when you start having a reaction

it starts off as just a stuffy & runny nose so you continue to brush it off

cause you always carry tissues with you

so does jeongin since he's learned about your pollen allergy

then you start feeling short of breath and your throat closing

jeongin is panicking when you tell of this development

he brings you into the closest building

where the two of you search through your bag for your pills

poor baby has tears in his eyes through the ordeal

once the medicine kicks in and your reaction calms, you guys start the walk back home

jeongin begins checking the pollen forecast before heading out with you after that

he never wants to go through something like that again with you