#he was so convincing from scars pov i never knew

[parme-san]

you mean to tell me bdubs was trying to break scar and grian up ON PURPOSE

[inkedinshadows]

Little Rainbow

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: When you can’t comfort your baby daughter, you bring her to her dad, who always manages to calm her down.

Warnings: just lots of fluff

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I thought I'd try my hand at writing second person pov instead of third. It just felt natural to write this one in 2nd pov. Maybe I'll stick with it in the future idk. This was born out of my baby fever btw, enjoy!

Azriel sensed you right before his shadows whispered of your arrival. He would recognize those steps and those soft wails anywhere.

A smile was already on his lips when the door opened with a small creak and you, his beautiful and loving mate, walked in holding your few-months-old daughter in your arms.

Leaning against the back of his chair, he watched as his shadows shot forward to greet the two of you, writhing around you and caressing your cheeks. You chuckled, but your daughter's soft cries stopped only for a moment before starting again, her little face even redder.

Azriel had spent centuries thinking he would never find love, that he wasn't good enough to deserve it. He was glad for his brothers’ happiness, and yet silently jealous of what they had. Brother, uncle, friend—he was grateful for it all, he truly was, but he longed for something more.

Then he met you.

Even before the mating bond snapped, he already knew you were the one. He had never been so smitten with someone in all his long years. He fell for you as quickly as a stone sinks in water, and finding out you were mates was just the cherry on top. He was convinced he could never love anything or anyone as much as he loved you.

But then you got pregnant. And when you gave birth, one look at the tiny bundle in Madja's arms was enough to prove him wrong. Seeing his mate holding his baby shortly after brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn't keep them from falling when you passed him Iris—named for the rainbow shining in the sky as she came into the world.

It was one of the happiest moments of his life, if not the happiest: looking down at the fragile, beautiful new life he had helped create.

But now, Iris was crying.

“One of those days?” he asked, his arms already outstretched toward his daughter.

“Yeah… sorry to interrupt you,” you answered with a sigh. You passed the baby to him and perched on the armrest of his chair. “But I tried feeding her, playing with her. I sang her all the lullabies I know. Nothing worked. She wants you.”

Azriel smiled down at Iris, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And to him, to you, she was. You were never interrupting when it was about her.

“You missed me, little rainbow?” he asked softly, a scarred finger trailing down her red, puffy cheeks. His shadows followed suit to swirl around her little face as if they could wipe away her tears.

He'd been scared at first—scared he would somehow taint something so perfect with his scarred hands, hands that had done things he had never been proud of. Though you had reassured him many times, his every concern melted away completely only when Iris had grabbed his pointer finger and innocently put it in her mouth.

It was exactly what she was doing now. Under Azriel's adoring gaze, his daughter wrapped her tiny hands around the finger he had just used to caress her and began contentedly sucking on it, her wails stopping for the moment.

“I don't understand how you do that,” you complained, though your tone was soft, your eyes full of pure love and adoration as you watched your mate and your baby. “She refused her binky when I gave it to her. Every. Single. Time.”

Azriel finally looked up from his child and met your gaze. Amusement sparked in his eyes at your grumble.

“Don't take it personally, love,” he said, curling one of his wings around you and gently nudging you with it. “She said ‘mama’ the other day.”

Catching on to his little wing bump, you slid from the armrest onto his lap, even as you rolled your eyes at him. “She didn't say 'mama’. She was just babbling. She's too young to say words, Az.”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, but his gaze slid back to Iris. She was still clutching his finger, and even though it had been almost seven months since she was born, watching her was as mesmerizing as the first time.

She had his eyes—hazel with a speck of green—but her hair was the same shade as yours. The two of you had initially spent hours simply gazing at her, whether she was awake or asleep, endlessly debating who she resembled the most. You claimed she had inherited Azriel's nose, he said she had your mouth. The truth was, it was too soon to know for sure, but neither of you cared. She was your rainbow, and she would always be perfect in Azriel's eyes.

The one thing he wasn't sure how to feel about was the lack of wings. After Feyre's tragic experience while giving birth, he had been relieved when Madja announced that your baby wouldn't have them. He never wanted to see you in such pain or risk losing you during childbirth. And yet, he was still Illyrian. Nothing could change that. A part of him longed for the chance to teach his baby daughter to fly, to hear the song of the wind and feel that unparalleled sense of freedom that only came from soaring high in the sky.

“Maybe it's the shadows.”

Your voice dragged him back to reality, and he turned to you with a furrowed brow.

“Why she's always calmer around you,” you clarified, gesturing to the shadows swirling around Iris. You caressed her head, and her eyes tracked back to you as she giggled around Azriel's finger. “They soothe her.”

Azriel smiled, his heart soaring at the sound of his daughter's soft laughter. His wing curled more tightly around you, drawing you closer so he could place a gentle kiss on your temple. “She's just like her mom, isn't she?”

You could only nod, returning his loving smile with one of your own. It was true—his shadows had always been a safe space to you. The first time he had seen you upset, they rushed to you, swirling around you and brushing your cheeks and your neck until you chuckled. From that moment, whether it was anger, sadness, or fatigue, they would leave Azriel's side to cheer you up before he could even take a step in your direction.

Your head came to rest on Azriel’s shoulder and you both watched your daughter's eyes grow heavy, her lids starting to drop as she stubbornly tried to keep them open, her hold on her dad's finger relenting.

“You fall asleep so easily in daddy's arms, don't you, little rainbow?” you whispered as you tenderly booped her cute little nose. “Just like mommy.”

Azriel chuckled, placing his now-free hand on the small of your back to gently nudge you to stand up. “Let's go to bed, love.”

You rose from his lap, and he immediately felt the absence of your warmth against him, but you only stood in front of him with that cute frown of yours—the one that created a small crease between your brows that he always wanted to smooth with his thumb.

Azriel knew exactly what you were thinking.

During the last month of your pregnancy, he had asked Rhys to keep missions away from Velaris to a bare minimum. And after Iris was born, he had stopped taking on any missions that required him to be away for more than two days, because he simply couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you and his baby girl. After centuries, he had finally learned the meaning of the word “delegate”. But sending his spies on jobs he'd usually do himself had led to a high pile of documents and reports on his desk—a pile he mostly tackled after you and Iris had gone to bed.

“I'm done working for tonight,” he reassured you, standing up and rocking Iris in his arms. “It can wait.”

It couldn't, not really. Some of those papers had been sitting on his desk for days, and the Azriel he was until seven months ago would have recoiled at the mere thought of unfinished work. But that was before an eternal rainbow added even more colors to his life than you already had.

You only smiled at him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Let's go to bed, then,” you repeated before turning to walk out.

Azriel followed you, his baby’s eyes fluttering open at the movement and darting around as he walked down the pastel-blue hallway. She was always so curious, even when tired.

Not wanting to risk Iris deciding she’d rather stay awake and explore than sleep, Azriel began to hum her favorite lullaby. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his deep voice resonating off the walls, a soft smile on your lips as you watched the shadows gently sway to the melody.

He met your gaze when you stopped in front of Iris’s room, where you had painted the walls a light shade of pink while Azriel assembled the cream-colored furniture. He shook his head and gestured for you to keep walking, never interrupting his soft singing as Iris’s eyes fluttered closed once more. You raised an eyebrow but continued toward your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

You had recently started getting Iris used to sleeping in her own room instead of yours, with both doors left open for the rare times she still woke up at night. But tonight, Azriel wanted to hold both his girls in his arms.

Iris was fast asleep by the time Azriel gently placed her in the center of your large bed, careful not to wake her up. She rolled onto her tummy and let out a content sigh that had you both staring in awe.

You turned to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You didn't want her to sleep alone?” you murmured, your tone amused.

“I couldn't,” he answered with a smile, his fingers tangling in your silky hair. “She missed me, you said it yourself.”

You chuckled, leaning up to peck him on the lips.

Azriel didn't let you pull away.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since he last had some alone time with you. If it wasn't Iris needing attention and care, it was his duties as spymaster keeping him so busy that you had resorted to dragging your favorite armchair in his study, where you would curl up with a book during your daughter's nap time. Sitting in comfortable silence as you each focused on your own tasks was better than being apart.

He felt you relax, melting against his body as he deepened the kiss, and only then did he pull back to rest his forehead against yours.

“And I missed you,” he whispered. Your cheeks were warm under his touch and he took a moment to just breathe in your familiar, soothing scent.

“Then you should have let Iris sleep in her crib, my love,” you said with a glance at your daughter. A mischievous gleam entered your eyes when they settled on him again. “Because I really miss you too.”

Azriel's soft laugh echoed in the room, and he kissed the top of your head. “Tomorrow,” he promised. He could make those reports wait a bit longer.

You smirked, stealing one last kiss before stepping back to peel off your clothes. He took a moment to admire you—your smooth skin, the dip of your hips, the soft curve of your stomach that remained from childbirth—but he quickly undressed as well, and soon you were both in bed, with Iris nestled between you.

Azriel placed a broad hand on her back to draw her a bit closer, and his wing draped over you as you scooted over, enveloping the three of you in a warm, dark cocoon, the silence interrupted only by your daughter’s soft snoring.

He felt you move in the dark and guessed you had just kissed Iris when you murmured, “Goodnight, my rainbow. Even though you didn't let me sing you lullabies.”

Azriel didn't need to see your face to know you had a loving look in your eyes and a playful smile on your lips.

“Of course she prefers my lullabies,” he teased, brushing his thumb over Iris's back. “She's her daddy's girl.”

For a moment, he was tempted to fold back his wing and let the moonlight caress your face, just to catch your cute pout as you said, “I used to be your girl.”

“You still are, love. You're both my girls,” he assured you, letting his wing lower over you like a second blanket. “You're my family. There's nothing I love more than you and Iris.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice now stripped of all playfulness. Only pure, undiluted sincerity remained, warming his heart. “Both of you.”

Silence fell again, and it wasn't long before your breathing evened out as you drifted into sleep. But Azriel stayed awake a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of his mate's soft sighs and his daughter's occasional snorts.

His own little family—everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dared to hope for.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Idea for part 2 to lingerie or maybe a separate fic but luke convinces reader to let him take pictures of her in some of the lingerie so she can see how pretty she looks from his pov ☺️

ℒ𝒾𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

PART 1, PART 3

Warnings- LOSER!LUKE AGENDA!! 18+, mdni! they are so couple goals.

“Ok, this one I saw, and I had to have it.” You said as you smiled, you stood in front of him and twirled around once again. It was a lot more scandalous, showing more skin and your cleavage barely covered.

His mouth was watering at this point, he just so desperately wanted to kiss you- touch you- anything really.

“It looks.. amazing. Probably the best one.” He nodded, reminding himself to keep eye contact and not let his eyes wander. He tried to keep his responses short and quick.

“Agreed.”

He felt embarrassed thinking about it. Would you think he was weird? Would you be creeped out and never talk to him again?

Fuck it.

You smiled and went to go change before he said your name. You turned around and looked at him, confused.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think… I could, take a picture…?”

Your eyes widened at that. The air grew thick with tension, and his voice cut through the silence after a little.

“Just- so that you can see how great you look from my point of view, you- you know?” He stuttered, anxious as he looked at you.

“Oh… okay. Sure. Why not?” You gave him another grin, and he smiled back. And you knew he had other intentions with the pictures, but it was Luke Castellan. The man you’ve had a crush on since you both were kids, the guy you were best friends with.

He took out his camera quickly, it's as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. He had been.

You stood, with a small smile on your face for the first one. It was mostly innocent. Then, he swears he would die when the poses got less innocent.

He swallowed, shaking the polaroids as they printed. Once they did, you sat right next to him, your bare thigh touching the denim of his jeans. He handed you them and you flipped through them.

"They're great. Ugh, I'm so glad I got you to do this. You're the best," You gave him another kiss on the cheek, his cheeks were tinted pink.

"Is that it?" he asked nervously. You nodded and you picked out a pair of pajamas, which was just a baggy shirt with some pajama pants.

"Could you... turn around? I don't feel like going in the bathroom." You were teasing him at this point, you wanted him to make a move already, plus it was fun seeing him flustered.

"Yeah... Of course." It was your cabin after all, he turned around, his hands on his knees as he fought against the urge to turn around.

While he was turned around, you quickly grabbed his bag, stuffing three of the best pictures he took into it. You quickly shoved it back in place and got dressed.

You sat back on the bed with him, talking for a while before the rest of the aphrodite cabin started pouring in.

"What's he doing in here?" One of your sisters asked.

"We were just talking." You said, he nodded and gave them each a small smile as they looked at him. He grew uncomfortable soon, however.

"I should probably get going, I'll see you tomorrow." He said, standing up quickly, leaving the cabin. You furrowed an eyebrow and followed after him.

"Wait, Luke!" You called his name; he turned around and looked at you, his bag slung on his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight." You said, but he felt like there was more you wanted to say.

"You got out here, in the cold, to tell me goodnight?" He cocked his head to the side. You swallowed now and walked closer to him.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and he gazed into your eyes with such love, how could you resist him anymore?

As his hand reached for your face, your heart started racing. You both leaned in closer and closer until your lips met. It felt like a dream come true, but this was real. Your mind was blown away by the softness of his lips as you traced your finger over his scar. The moment was electric, and you couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Is this real?" you asked shakily once your lips left his. He chuckled and nodded.

"Goodnight," he said, giving you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving.

As soon as you entered the Aphrodite cabin again, the girls around you looked at you, all expecting an explanation.

"I kissed him!" you squealed, screams erupt, and Luke could hear it as he was walking towards his own cabin, small smirk on his face.

And when he opened up his bag, reaching for his book, 3 polaroids were on top. He had a smile on his face as he looked through them.

[findmeinforks]

Not Letting You Go Easy - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

IM BACKKKKKKK!!! Wow I just checked my last fic and it's been TWO years. Does anyone even remember me? 🥹 I'm back on my twilight bs, this one is my longest ever! Let me know what you think! - 3.2K Words ❤️

*Second Person POV*

The sun poured on your face as you soaked in all the warmth it allowed. You missed the sun, watching the palm trees sway peacefully as the ocean tide rolls in. The goosebumps that arise on your skin as a strong breeze passes, the warmth blanketing back over them.

You keep your eyes shut as your mouth curls up in a smirk, listening faintly to your mom try and convince your sister to stay in Jacksonville. She could offer up the moon and all the stars...Bella would still choose Edward, every time. It's true that you were weary of the vampire, after she flew like a bat out of hell half way across the world to Italy to save him. But could you blame her?

If it wasn't for your sister stumbling her way into the supernatural world, it's possible you could have never met Paul. A blush crept up your cheeks as you crack a full smile, thinking back to the day you met the hot head.

~

There was absolutely zero hesitation when you followed behind Bella in the truck to go to Jacob's. You had been worried for weeks about your sister, who had been spiraling ever since she was ghosted a second time by someone she trusted. Not only did you care about your her, but Jacob too. He had been around your family for years, and this behavior...especially towards Bella...was concerning. So when she frantically barged in your room asking you to go with, you were out of the house in minutes.

You had taken off in a sprint to try and keep up with your sisters manic running towards the group of shirtless men in Jacob's backyard. You heard rumors of the so called "cult" that had formed in the recent weeks. Jacob's haircut and tattoo had confirmed that part. But seeing the others approach through his window, you knew this was going to be a bad idea. You barely had time to catch your breath before her hand came in contact with one of their faces. You let a gasp slip as you made it in time to yank her back by the elbow.

What had gotten into her!?

Not able to process why she would resort to slapping him in the first place, the man, who looked like a carbon copy of the other ones standing around, began to shake violently. The others were urging you both to get back while attempting to calm him down. Never in your life had you witnessed such immense anger. In seconds his shakes became tremors. It was as if he ripped apart, and in his place stood a massive grey wolf. Mirroring the emotions of the man before, the animal was growling, snarling at your sister with its teeth bared.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You felt as if you were dreaming, blinking rapidly to make sure this was real. Not standing around to question the animal who could very well kill you, Bella grabbed your hand and you both booked it towards the house. The outburst must have woken Jacob, who was running towards the scene. Bellas blood curdling scream was telling him to go back, though he kept charging forward.

You both fell hands first onto the grass as Jacob launched over you both, shreds of clothes flying as yet another wolf emerged.

Now it was you who was shaking. The only thing that prevented you from having a panic attack was realizing that all the other men were calm, as if this happened all the time. You swallowed your fear as you accepted the hand of one of the younger men, who led you two back to the truck by the order of the oldest one.

As you walked into the cozy secluded home, your mind was running a million miles a minute. They were werewolves....as if after learning vampires existed wasnt a shock enough already.

The oldest one, fiancé, Emily, you had learned, helped ease some of the headache. Besides the scar she wore upon her face that made your stomach drop when you first saw her, she was the epitome of kindness. You could see when she was greeted by Sam that their love was far more deep rooted than the mark she wore. Only knowing her for an hour, you felt happy for the girl.

You vaguely registered Jacob returning, finally looking away from the couple when you heard an unfamiliar voice apologize to Bella. As he then turned your way, you both locked eyes. An electric current jolted through your body, through your veins as you held his stare. You felt a fuzzy warm feeling race its way all the way down to your toes. The feeling lasted what felt like forever, until Jacob's "no fucking way...." pulled you back to earth. It's as if you had been some other place. A place of immense happiness and love. You knew you looked as bright as a tomato when you realized all eyes were on the two of you, mortified they caught you staring.

You did a quick scan of the room, noticing they were paying more attention to the man rather than you, who, was still staring.

When you craned your neck to look at Bella behind you, you found relief in that she looked just as confused.

The man was slapped on the back by Embry, which snapped him out of his trance. He quietly introduced himself as Paul. You blushed hard when you quickly said your name back. As if to break the tension in the room, Jacob asked you both to go for a walk.

Before you left, you had sworn you heard Paul growl.

"Not now. She's been through too much today already." Sam lowly said to him. You furrowed your brows as you trailed behind your sister out of the house.

After a walk on the beach and many questions answered, you were able to take a deep breath. The world was getting scary for you, but Jacob seemed to ease your fears, promising he would always protect you both.

Before he dropped you both off at your house, he had mentioned going to a pack bonfire the following night. You couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of seeing Paul again. You both hadn't even spoke other than introductions, but there was some type of spark in your core when you both met.

Attempting to shove it away, you reminded yourself it was nothing but a crush.

~

You sat on a log by the fire, rubbing your hands together in front of it. Everyone was up gathering their food, but you were focused on the warmth as it was more than chilly outside. Nerves bubbled in you as Paul approached, asking to sit next to you. Your cheeks heated as he sat, only inches away.

"I just wanted to apologize about yesterday," he spoke, his voice gruff as he looked into the fire. "You could have gotten hurt and I let my anger get the best of me. I promise I'm not like that all the time, and I don't want you to be afraid of me."

Your heart melted at how softly he spoke. "It's really alright. My sister acts out of impulse, if you couldn't tell." This got him to laugh lightly. You laughed too, until a strong breeze made you break out into a shiver.

Paul immediately noticed, grabbing a blanket from the pile beside him. "Here," he said as he wrapped one around you. His warmth radiated off you as he had gotten closer to do so. Not even realizing what you were saying you spoke, "I bet your girlfriend never gets cold with you around." To your embarrassment but surprise he cracked a big smile. "I bet she would, if I had one." It was your turn to smile. "What about you?" You shook your head no as Paul let out a small breath that almost sounded like relief.

Before either of you could say something more, everyone gathered around the fire. The legends of the tribe had you captivated. So much history that you were never aware of, right under your nose. You could feel Paul glance at you every so often, gauging your reaction to everything that was said.

When the fire died down and Jacob's dad came to a stopping point, everyone quietly mingled until deciding to call it a night. You had talked to Paul the entire time, getting to know the basics. You had a lot more in common than you thought. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. A lot. He followed you to Bella's truck, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I had a really good time tonight" you spoke softly, now inches away from his face. You were so close you could feel his breath.

"I did too. I hope this won't be the last time I see you?" he questioned.

You glanced past him to see Bella and Jacob making their way up the hill.

"With everything going on, everything that's happening...I have a feeling we won't be going away anytime soon."

Paul smiled.

This is the part where he'll kiss me, you think. Your heart beats fast in anticipation.

But Paul just stands there. Staring. He stood there so long that you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"I'll see you around Paul." You tried to hide the disappointment on your face as you climbed into the truck and shut the door. He had let you, still standing there for a moment before turning around to walk back to the house.

Tears welled up in your eyes. How foolish were you, to think that a guy like Paul Lahote would just sweep you off your feet? Sure, a kiss might be moving fast for the first night, but he didn't even give you his number. You analyzed everything you had said to each other. Nothing was even romantic, so why on earth would you think he liked you back? Pathetic.

Bella said goodbye to Jacob and got in the truck. One thing you loved most about your sister was that she knew you better than anyone else. And if there was one thing you hated, it was when people asked if you were upset. One look in your direction and she didn't say a word, starting the truck and driving off. She knew when you were ready to talk, you would.

*Paul's POV*

I turned around, watching the truck drive away, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. I was frozen in place.

What is wrong with me?

"Everything go okay?" Sam approached, clearly sensing my distress.

"I'm never like this with women, Sam. I should have kissed her, but I didn't. I stood there, right in front of her with my mouth open like a fucking fish. I-I've never felt this way-" I rambled on.

"Dude it's alright" Sam interrupted, "Did you tell her that she's your imprint?"

I sighed. "I didn't even get that far. I don't, I don't want her to feel forced to like me like that right away. I want to treat it like a normal relationship....but I think I went ahead and screwed it up anyways." I huffed.

Sam placed his hand on my shoulder. "Deep breathes. You didn't screw anything up, you just met her. You can tell her about the imprinting when you're comfortable....as far as the kiss, well, it's never too late." Sam held up keys to his vehicle, putting them in my hand. "Only if you need them." He slapped me on the shoulder, winking, as he walked back to where Emily was.

I watched him sneak up behind her, she giggled as he peppered kisses on the back of her neck. I knew what he was doing. And it was working, as I made my way towards his car.

*Back to Second Person POV*

You sniffled, taking a deep breath. You were done crying over this man. This man you had literally just met. So what if he didn't like you? There is a million other people out there. Why did you care so much?

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Charlie was gone over night on a hunting trip and Bella was fast asleep.

Another knock. It was almost damn near midnight. As you slowly approached the door, bat in hand, you looked through the peep hole.

It was Paul.

You flung open the door, ready to ask him what the hell him problem was, when he lunged forward. Grabbing you by the face, he kissed you feverishly. Your heart pounded in your chest as you melted into the kiss, tongues dancing together in perfect harmony. One hand held you by the hair as the other grabbed you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer. When you both needed to breathe you pulled away, Paul's hand held tightly so you couldn't go too far. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting.

"I am so sorry I didn't do this when you left. You, you make me nervous. It's a feeling I've never really had before. When you left I- I didn't want to let you go that easy. I'm sorry." He said.

You leaned in to kiss him once, slowly, softly. "I've been waiting for you to do that," you smiled. "There's a lot more where that came from...if you'll have me." he said, his hand sliding down to interlock with yours, bringing back up to place a gentle kiss on the top.

"I couldn't imagine anything better." you grinned.

*Paul's POV*

Y/N guided me to the couch, asking to stay awhile. We held each other until the sun came up, just talking. It was as if everything right there had changed for me. She would be my number one priority, to have and protect. I vowed to myself that I would do anything she asked, that I will love her no matter the cost. Whatever makes her happy.

I had to leave before Charlie got home, but not without a heated make out session at the door. It took everything in me to pull away from her, both of us lingering. Despite her not letting go either, I could see the bags under her eyes forming.

"Get some sleep baby, text me when you wake up okay?" She nodded, and after a good 20 minutes of more kissing, I left.

I understood why Sam was always mopey without Emily around. As I drove away I could feel my heart ache like something was missing. This was a whole new feeling, and for the first time I thanked whatever spirits gave me her.

My imprint.

I bit my lip as I remembered I still had to tell her. I'm worried about how she'll take it, but there was something heavier on my mind.

Victoria.

Part Two Anyone? :)

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

Can you please do a part two of mission .???!!!

Oh my! Well, of course anonymous user. Never though there'd be a sequel but oh well! Part 2 is right here now!

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Part 2

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: Y/n wakes up in a different place, her home no longer anywhere and instead placed within a strange cell with different Warriors watching her. Soon she's delivered to kneel in front of an Elder—next thing she knew, she was mated with Scar. Becoming first Yautja mated couple ever in their history, but for Y/n to permanently be respected as one of them, she must first become a Warrior.

Warnings: Adult language, threats, assault, scarification, death, arguments, anxiety, fluff, teasing, sexual tension, eventual smut, gentle to rough smut, clawing, biting, comfort.

A/n: The Roman numerals in the title translate to 34-35. So it means Mission 34-35 . . . Or Mission-69 heheh. I also did some studying on their language, (keyword: some.)

Fun Fact (Maybe): I saw a comic page and read that the Yautja can "speak" through their own sign language: Hand-signal of the Hunt. Or Silent Hand.

Part 1

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut.

--

~Y/n pov~

Was my bed always this cold? I fell asleep in his arms, and I finally woke up alone in a dark place. I gasped as I backed up and hit my head on the cold wall, I shivered as I tried to figure out my surroundings. I was naked, the only thing I had was my old blanket, I hugged it as I stood up on my feet.

My thighs ached from—I shuddered remembering that I lost my virginity to whatever creature he was. I walked to the cell bars and tried to see if there was anyone here, "H-Hello?" I said, "Hello! I-Is anyone there! Can you please tell me where I am!?"

I could hear muffled beeping noises from down the halls, everything was unusual and unfamiliar for me. "Please! Anyone-! Gah!" I yelped—two large beasts walked in front of me. I stepped back and watched them, they wore similar masks with different designs. Around seven feet tall, both musclar beasts.

". . . W-Where am I?" I whispered, they clicked and growled lowly to each other. I could hear some soft of soft engine humming around us, where was I? "Please! Tell me where I am!" I begged.

They both looked to the left as another creature like them clicked out and order or some sort of command, one of them unlocked the cell before the second walked in towards me. "W-Who are you-? Hey! Let me go!" I yelped—he pulled me out by my arm and pushed me to walk forwards. I'd instantly get killed if I tried to fight any of them, I just obeyed and went along with their orders.

~3rd pov~

The Yautjas led Y/n deeper into their ship when it just landed on their planet, Yautja Prime, she was given a collar and had her wrists chained before she was brought out. She was so lost in the new world, being pulled along like a dog and shown off as an accessory to the other fellow Yautjas who lived there. Each one stared at her with confusion and judgement, thinking of her as a weak opponent to kill.

The two dragged her to a large empire, the large stairs led into a hall which opened up into a room where a Clan Leader sat. He had multiple spikes and grown dreadlocks that almost touched his thighs, his claws tapping on his throne chair as Y/n was forced to her knees in front of him.

She was terrified and lost, she held onto her blanket as she watched Scar, wearing his silver mask, approach the Elder. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded close to a argument, or Scar trying to convince the Elder to allow something. Y/n glanced behind her and saw the other Yautjas, all glancing at the Elder and Scar before down at her.

She was shaking like a leaf while she knelt there defenseless, Scar stepped aside as the Elder snarled while standing up. He raised his left hand and signaled one of the Yautjas to bring him an item; she jumped when she heard the familiar screeching of a Xenomorph before one of them killed it. The seven foot creature handed the Elder a severed finger of the Xenomorph and approached Y/n—he removed her chains as his eyes examined her frail form.

She gasped when his rough hand held her shoulder, her eyes found Scar's as the Elder clenched her shoulder for her attention. "W-What are you doing?" She asked him. "You are Blooded." The Elder said to her, his tone deeper than Scar's was. She let her eyes close when he brought the acidic finger to her cheek, scarring her skin permanently with a symbol of her Xenomorph kill.

Scar was informing the Elder of her kill, and how she managed to use one of their weapons against their enemy species, how she proved to be an ally and a warrior. She clenched her jaw in pain from the burning feeling, he then stepped back and looked at the Warriors. Y/n gulped as she reached up to feel the permanent mark on her cheek before everyone roared in unison—she covered her ears again. After they were done the Elder Yautja approached Scar and held his shoulder, clicking and snarling as they communicated in their language.

Scar growled but the Elder snarled back, before looking at her. "W-Why am I here? What's going to happen to me!" She whimpered out with fear rattling her nerves. A Yautja approached the Elder, his dreadlocks were short and he looked slightly smaller than Scar did—in his hands he carried some sort of pelt from one of the creatures that probably lived on this planet with them, something was packaged within it.

The Elder Yautja pointed at her and the Yautja walked to her before dropping it at her knees, "W-What is this?" She asked, she heard the muffled snarling and clicks coming from the other Yautjas behind her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the package, untying the skin like thread and unfolding it.

Seeing a few pieces of rather revealing clothing, if you can even call it clothing. "I-I don't think this is appropriate-?", "Dress yourself." The Elder growled out to her. She lifted the strange light green colored top that would just barely even cover her breasts. Her sides would be bare and the bottom would reveal her legs, she sighed from the outfit choice but stood up with the pieces before glancing at Scar. "Do I. . . dress up here?"

The Elder looked away and communicated with Scar instead, Y/n with no other choice, started to slip on and try the outfit, of course still having the blanket over herself. The bottom was similar to a thong beneath the hanging pieces of cloth attached to it, she pulled it up and let the cloth hang—covering just her front and rear, reaching to her knees while her thighs and waist were exposed. She grabbed the top next, seeing that it'll only cover her breasts and nothing else, she'll be showing sideboob, but hopefully the front will be hidden.

She tied a knot with the strings behind her neck and let it remain covering her chest just barely. She rechecked to see if she was fully covered before looking at Scar and the Elder who were now looking at her—she sighed and dropped the blanket. Showing her new two-piece outfit that she'll most likely have to keep on for however long she's kept here. She hugged her arms when the Elder signaled for them to leave, Scar walked to her and escorted her out of the temple.

"Why am I here? What is this place?" She questioned Scar, now covering her stomach as she passed dozens of more Yautjas. Everyone of them were males, adults or in their teen years. Some wore armor, while some didn't. The weather was warm and sunny, it didn't feel cold at all. "Where are you taking me?"

Scar led her to a further place away from the others, approaching a medium sized hut. Skulls and bones remained hanging around it, his trophies of past hunts. He led her inside left her there. "Well, this is great. I get fucked by some sort of alien, fall asleep and wake up to a knockoff Pandora planet like I'm in some sort of Avatar movie, and now I'm wearing this slutty outfit like I'm a stripper or something! I don't even know your name, that big one in that temple was looking at me like I was his next meal, I don't know what's going on and you still aren't saying anything to me-!"

"Scar." He growled as he approached her, easily overshadowing her as he watched her. "S-Scar?. . . That's your name?" She whispered as she slightly stepped back. "Top-Knot ha-as agreed to ma-ake you Blooded ally. He accepts yo-ou, but for yo-ou to keep your non-co. You mus-st become a kv'var-de." Y/n could piece his words together, but she didn't understand that word.

"A-A what? A kavalar?" Scar shook his head and knelt on one knee to be close to her height. "Kv'var-de. . . Hunter." He said. Y/n looked at her clothing then at him, "What if I don't want to become a hunter?" She whispered, "I'm weak. I'm not like you or the others out there. . . I'm just. . . Human."

He snarled, tilting his head but remained watching her, "M-di ooman can kill kiande amedha." He growled out. ". . . Huh?" His mandibles clicked as he stood again. "We te-each each othe-er." He said before walking out of the area and into another small room in the hut. She was left confused and lost in their language, how long is this going to last?

~Y/n pov~

Scar was true to his word about teaching each other something. He showed me how to sign, speak, and understand their language, after he tested my learning by signing a sentence out for me. Which I barely understood, so he flicked my head for messing up—it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but I forgot how much bigger and stronger he was compared to me. I'd teach him how to pronounce and understand English words and sentences, and in return, I'd be able to smack his chest—which I doubt even hurt this S'yuit-de.

He'd throw tiny insults here and there at me, call me a Hulij-bpe jehdin, which I finally found that it meant Crazy One, or Crazy Individual. So in return for learning his language, I called him S'yuit-de kv'var-de, which meant Pathetic Hunter, or Idiot Hunter. And I knew it offended him when he'd just quietly glare down at me, but I enjoyed it. At least four or three days have passed already and I've been dragged out into the unfamiliar world, I'd watch how he'd hunt and kill our next meal. It was upsetting but oddly satisfying to see. I saw the trees and strange like flying creatures that they had, but nothing prepared me to see the females who passed through.

I could feel their judgemental eyes lingering on me when I wasn't looking, they were taller than the males. Around eight feet tall at most, broader and rather aggressive. "Why are they staring at me?" I whispered to Scar. "They do not approve of ooman-dei."

They don't approve of human women. . . That explains it. They'd snap and flare their mandibles when I looked at them, I kept my eyes and head low out of submission, to not pose as a threat. I felt like I was at a new school and the mean girls were already scheming against me. Scar pulled my arm and held me against his body when a Yautja approached us, it was a female and of course she started to communicate to him.

My broken understanding of the Yautja language could only pick up so much. They rarely talk, but they used sounds to communicate to one another. The female arched her back and flared her mandibles at Scar, he roared at her before she shoved my shoulder back. Almost shoving me to the ground if it weren't for Scar's hand.

He told me about this. When a Yautja pushes your shoulder with their hand: they're challenging you for a fight.

I started to panic, my strength was nothing compared to Scar's, or even a female! I didn't know what they were clearly arguing about but it made her pissed off to the point where she wanted to fight me. And most likely kill me during that fight. "What's happening?!" I asked. She roared at me and Scar finally shoved her backwards out of defense when she tried to grab me.

He picked me up and his lower mandibles were flaring, before he carried me away from the female who was staring me down.

~~~

He didn't bring it up once, but it was on replay in my head, I'm pretty sure he sensed my confusion since he decided to lay beside me on the large furry cot. It was soft and comfortable to lay on, something I didn't expect. ". . . Scar, how long am I going to stay here." I asked him.

He raised his hand and tested me, he signed out what I could possibly read out as: Until you become Hunter. I held my head before asking, "How much time do I have until the Elders test me?"

He signed again: Two Weeks.

I groaned and laid on my back as I looked at the ceiling, I still wore the same revealing outfit before looking at him. "Why was that female mad? Did I do something wrong?" I whispered to him. "M-di. . . She wanted me to breed her." He answered.

"Why did she challenge me?" I questioned, slowly scooting closer to his larger frame and resting my head on his bicep. "I said m-di to her. I told her that you were my mate." I looked at him and felt my heart jump out of my chest. His mate. His mate!

"I-I—You told me that Yautja don't mate for life, you just. . . Reproduce?" Scar lowly purred before his sharp eyes looked in mine. "No-t you and me." He replied. I rested my face on his large pec and bit my lip, feeling that flutter of butterflies swirl in my gut when I thought of being his. His alone. He's not going to mate with anyone else except me. It then led me to getting an idea that would probably scare the crap out of any other chick, but not me, clearly I'm the crazy one for wanting to fuck this Yautja.

I sat up and sighed as I let my head hang back, "Do you still think about it? That night we spent together?" I asked him, he let out a deep growl before I turned and straddle his large hips. His eyes opened and found mine, "I still think about it." I added—letting my hips slowly grind against his loincloth, which I felt growing stiffer every passing second.

"Prove that you are not just kv'var-de, but a good Pauk-de as well." I smirked. Kv'var-de meant Hunter, but Pauk-de meant Fucker. His growl reverberated through me before he shoved me onto my back, pinning my arms above my head as he growled at me. "Do no-t temp me, Hulij-bpe jehdin." He warned, his dreadlocks brushed against my shoulders and arms. I let my right leg graze his waist as I arched my back on purpose—letting my top press perfectly against my breasts to show them off to him.

"What if I want you tempted?" I giggled, his mandibles clicked and snapped, he growled before placing his jaws on my shoulder and biting down on me. I gasped and let out a choked groan when he released my skin, licking up the blood that formed from the small puncture wounds.

"You need me to ell-osde' puak." He snarled out, I understood those words clearly: You need me to fuck you. "Sei-i." I mewled, yes, yes, I did want him to fuck me. I don't know what's been up with me, but I've been craving more of Scar ever since I got here. I've been pissing him off to make him snap, but clearly he has restraint. Maybe all I needed to do was make it obvious.

I lifted my hips into his and bit my lip when I felt his erection, "Come on, puak me, Scar." I purred. His jaws snapped in front of my face, I only responded by lifting my head and licking his mandibles. He held my wrists down with one hand, and let his other reach down to move my cloth to the side. A soft sigh left me when I felt his large length rub against my folds, "Kwei ooman-dei. . ." He snarled. Sly human woman.

I wanted to try something I've never done, but I wasn't sure. "Scar, please." I begged. His repetitive clicking was a sign of him chuckling at me, I whimpered when he notched the tip of his unnatural cock inside of me. Slowly pushing each inch into me, I could feel my cunt being stretched and accepting his invading length.

His hands clenched my wrists while he continued to sheath himself inside of me—finally gasping when his full cock was buried inside of my velvet canal. My legs hugged his sides as I arched my back, "Scar!" I moaned out; his scale covered body was emitting heat onto mine, his hand undid my top before he cupped my breasts. Squeezing and kneading them—exploring my body with his hand.

Slowly, he started to roll his hips into me. He earned multiple mewls, grunts, and moans from me; hisses and growls came from him, his tongue trailed up from between the valleys of my breasts, up my throat and into my mouth. I whined as I pressed my tongue against his forked one, he pulled out and heavily thrusted himself into me.

"Eek!" I yelped, I felt his claws tickle my side as it brushed down the side of my ribs and my waist to hold my thigh open. He watched as he slowly pulled out to the tip—then sinking back into me. Purring as he enjoyed the sensation of his cock being squeezed by my tight cunt, "More, more, Scar!" I pleaded as I clenched my knuckles.

Scar enjoyed being in control, taking his time and relaxing in the experience. He told me that the females were aggressive during their mating, and from what happened this morning, I believed him. Scar's pumps into me was satisfying to hear, it felt so amatory. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips—he stood on his knees and lifted my lower body off the bed. I cried out when he continued to fuck me in such a lewd position.

It was so hot to see this Predator take what he wanted from me, such a sweet way but with harsh strength. "Ngh! Yes! Yes! Scar! Ah, keep going!" I exhorted out. Scar's snarls turn into a growling purr as he dug his nails into my flesh—I felt his thrusts get a bit harder. My mouth was agape as he started to get quicker with his grinding. He stilled inside of me fully for a moment and lifted my back towards his face—dragging his tongue over my breasts and tasting me.

I hummed with satisfaction as I let my body melt in his hands, he was so strong, it didn't bother him to hold me and fuck me at the same time. I touched his dreadlocks and licked one of them, he roared before he started to piston his cock up into my stretched cunt. "Oh fuck!" I screamed out with agonizing pleasure. The room was already hot and so was the weather, my body was shedding sweat as he grinded his musclar self onto me.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as he kept going, moaning at each heavy pump he made—my nails dragged down his skin but he didn't care. I doubted he even felt it. His skin texture was so different compared to mine, his strength, his eyes, his demeanor and culture. Everything was unique about him.

My end was nearing, I was going to cum, I was so close to cumming. I let my hand started teasing my clit as he kept fucking me, his large paw cupped my head while he wrapped the other around my waist—still keeping me midair. Weak and broken gasps croaked from my soaked lips as he kept getting rougher.

That tight band—tighter and coiling up in a tight ball, about to blow. The light from the stick of dynamite about to denote within my nerves—my hands instinctively grabbed his dreadlocks and held on. He roared again and hugged my torso tightly. Thrusting faster than before, my tongue was hanging out like a bitch in heat, my heart racing faster than a race horse as I finally squealed—feeling my juices coat our lower areas.

The spark ignited and finally blew. The shocks burned through my limbs and my sight went white as I shut my eyes, my breath lost from my lungs as I climaxed on his thick cock still ramming into me. My sensitive squeaks and cries were ignored by Scar—he was lost in the wave of his own pleasure.

I knew we'd be here all night, I'm tired out, but he won't be anytime soon. He told me he finished quickly last time because I was exhausted, but now, I'm sure he'll stop. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head on him, he still didn't slow down. My body was beginning to feel like lead as I tried to speak. But I couldn't.

I was too exhausted by this. So exhausted, I wanted to sleep. . . Which I did eventually.

~3rd pov~

The sun had risen, and so did Y/n. She woke up to a messy cot, her top on the floor as she remained wearing the bottom piece. She woke up to an empty bed, Scar was gone and she didn't know where he went. She got up and tied on her top once again before heading walking out of the room to find him.

"Scar?" Y/n muttered, crossing her arms as she slowly walked around the hut, checking the meat room, the main area and even outside next. No sign of Scar. She was worried until she remembered that he was probably out on a hunt. Sighing, she walked to the room again and sat on the bed. Relaxing into the pelt as she thought about him.

She just woke up, fully clean and even tucked into the pelt, he cleaned her and fixed her up in bed. She lightly traced her lips with her fingers as she smiled at the thought of a extraterrestrial being treating her like a lover. Some time passed and he returned to the hut, she looked and saw him drop a strange creature on the ground before entering the room. Carrying a box with him.

She crawled on her hands and knees on the bed and sat as she looked at him, "I missed you." She said. Scar let out a deep hum as he approached her, she reached up and planted a kiss on his shoulder. A growl escaped him as he handed her the box. She took it and started to open it up, her brow arching when she saw the odd outfit.

"What is this-?. . . Wait a minute." She mumbled, pulling out a fishnet outfit with solid pieces of armor on important places such as the breasts, and the nether regions. Reminding her of Scar's own armor, she lifted the fishnet outfit and saw a silver mask that looked similar to Scar's just without the blooded mark. It wasn't big, but it was her size. Arm cuffs and a small weapon within it. She looked at him with a confused look.

"Today. . . yo-ou Kv'var." He said to her. She gulped as she looked down at the custom made armor.

Today, she hunts.

_______________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the sequel!

[acourtofmarvels]

Patience - Cassian

No OC this time, just your average Cassian x Reader (I used she/her pronouns but please use any you would like to.)

Summary: Y/N has been apart of the IC for 100 years after they saved her from a horrible incident that left her broken and traumatized. Cassian knew she was his mate from the second he saw her. Though he never could tell her, not after everything she endured.  They put her back together. She loved them and they loved her. Her family. Though, in the recent couple years she developed feelings a little stronger toward the male who she would soon find out to be her mate. 

Warnings: hints of abuse and assault. fluff

Word count: 3369

Cassian

"Why haven't you told her?" Rhysand asked me. I looked at him like he was crazy. He must be. Thinking I could ever tell her.

"How could I put that on her? After all she's been through. She's open to us now. She's stronger, braver. She's finally starting to learn to cope with her trauma. I don't want to scare her with something so... intimate."

I saved her. I have kept her safe. I helped her, trained her. Held her when she needed it, gave her space when she needed it. Those 50 years when Rhys was under the mountain she never left the House of Wind once. She didn't feel safe without her High Lord here. Even though Az and I were always with her.

"Cassian..." Rhys started.

"You kept it from Feyre, why? Cause you wanted to keep her safe, you didn't want to scare her. You wanted her to be ready for it. Thats exactly what I'm doing." He's being so hypocritical. How could he think I could just spring this on her?

"You've know for 100 years-"

"I knew the moment I saw her. She was covered in her own blood and vomit, bruised, broken and bare. You didn't see her, Rhys. You didn't feel-" I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. I was the one who covered her, brought her to Valaris to be healed and saved."What those monsters did to her..."

"They're dead now. They'll never hurt her again." Yeah. I killed them all. Made them suffer. Had them begging and pleading for their lives.

"She's still healing. I'd wait another 100 years if had to." 

Her POV

"We can go back if you want," Mor said quietly to me. We walked down the cobblestone sidewalk through the markets in the town square. Her arm linked in mine, her way of letting me know she wasn't leaving my side.

"No, I feel... good. It's a beautiful day. Everything feels like it's fitting into place. I've noticed these past few months that I finally feel like my old self again. But.. better."

It felt so good getting out of the house. Walking down the streets of my home. Home. I'd been here for a century. I've found my family here. People who love me, scars and all. And I love them. They're my rock. I wish I could say that I put myself back together after being broke for so long but it was them. They hold me together.

"Have you gotten all your gifts yet?" It was solstice this week. Everyone's favorite time of year.

"I have." I smiled at her. "And I'm not telling you what I got you." I knew by the tone in her question that's exactly what would lead next.

"Come on! Did you get it when we were together? I always take you shopping. How could you have possibly gotten my gift?"

"Cassian took me yesterday." I didn't like going out by myself. Too much anxiety. Mor or Feyre always go shopping with me in the markets. The boys take me other places, exploring Prythian if I please.

"Cassian never goes shopping with me! Gods, how did you convince him to do that?"

"I just asked him and he said yes." I shrugged. Cassian has always been sweet. He never tells me no. I feel guilty about it sometimes. I don't want to bother him.

"You have him wrapped around your finger, I swear." Mor groaned and I laughed.

"I do not." My face felt warm as a blush crept up upon my cheeks. Me blushing for a male? That hasn't happened since before... "Cassian just worries about me."

"Yeah worries a little too much." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're staying at the town house with all of us this week right?" Rhys and Feyre mentioned they wanted everyone there this week. It was kind of tradition but this was the first solstice since the war and it just felt a little extra special.

"Of course. And I will also be drinking my weight in wine."

"Oh gods, a drunk you is never good." Mor and I both laughed loudly. I didn't drink much. Only with them. And usually on special occasions.

***

"Leave! You'll see us when we are ready!" Feyre yelled through the door. Rhysand wanted to see which dress she picked. He was being very persistent. It was so cute.

"Just a peak, my love," he said. I could practically hear the smile in his voice. I felt a weird pang in my chest. That was weird.

There was some more playful arguing between them before Feyre finally came back over to the vanity where I was sitting as Mor was doing my hair and makeup.

"He's acting like a child and I just took away his toy," Feyre mumbled, "Illyrian baby."

Mor was the first one of us who was ready. She was wearing a long black silk dress with her signature red lips. Feyre was wearing a dark blue sparkly dress. It took me a while to pick which dress to wear. Feyre insisted on the maroon one, while Mor wanted me to wear the emerald green. I am bad at making decisions so I let Elain pick and she favored the maroon one more like her sister. 

"Mother above we look hot," Mor whistled as the three of us stood in front of the giant mirror in Feyre and Rhys room. 

The door squeaked as it opened, Elain slipping through. "Stop being annoying, you swear you've never seen her dolled up before." She mumbled to whom I could only assume was Rhysand. She closed it behind her, pressing her back to it. Elain was in a pale pink dress. She favored the lighter colors. "The boys are getting rowdy and insist we go down to eat dinner."

"They're children, I swear." Feyre rolled her eyes but she was smiling, as was I. Feyre followed Elain out the door. I briefly heard Rhys say some curse words at the sight of his mate before Feyre shut the door behind her. 

Mor reached for the handle of the door but paused when she noticed I was hesitant to follow her. I could tell she was immediately worried for me. "What's wrong?" Was I really that transparent? 

I couldn't lie to her. She can always tell when I'm lying or hiding something. "I am nervous." I admitted, my hands gripped the fabric of my dress nervously. 

"Why? Has something happened?" I think I was the closet with Mor. She was there since the beginning. For the first few months after the incident I was to afraid to be around males. Mor never left my side. She didn't even know me yet she cared so much. 

"Nothing has happened. Just, something feels different." I could feel the aching in my chest. I had noticed it every time I was around Rhys and Feyre, I didn't understand. 

"A good different or a bad different?" She took ahold of my hand, a comforting gesture she did to know that she was there for me and she wasn't leaving. 

"I'm not sure. I think what I'm feeling is good but it hurts sometimes." She gave my hand a small squeeze. 

"Do you want to leave? I can winnow us out right now. No questions asked. You say the words and we're gone." I smiled at her. 

"No I don't want to leave. I just... I had that on my chest." I took a deep breath. She continued to rub her hand over mine. She always held my hand when I was anxious or feeling emotional. It was comforting, to know she was always by my side when I needed her. 

The door burst open, in came an angry looking Amren. Her hand was gripping the doorknob so hard I thought she might pull it off. "If you don't get downstairs in the next two seconds I'm killing them all." She glanced down at Mor holding my hand and Amren's face actually softened. It wasn't often I saw any other sign of emotion on her face that wasn't anger or annoyance. "What's going on? Are you alright, Y/N?"

I let out a small laugh. I love that they all worry for me. But it does get annoying the amount of times a day I hear Are you okay?  "I'm quite alright, thank you. Let's eat, I'm starving." 

Amren went first, Mor following and myself close behind. The biggest smile formed on my face the second I heard the low, loud, voices of the rest of my family downstairs. I don't even know what they were saying but Cassian's voice stood out to me. My heart sped up and I ignored it like I always did. It was a weird feeling I didn't understand. It always happened around him or even to the thought of him. 

"The night has barely begun and you're already giving me a headache," Amren grumbled as she hopped off the last step. The room grew quiet as Mor and I came into view. My eyes locked onto Cassian's first. There went that feeling again. He pushed his chair back, standing up straight. I noticed Rhysand and Azriel were standing up to. 

"Now don't stop the party on our account," Mor said. 

Rhysand was the first to speak out of the males. "You both look marvelous." He then looked at down at his mate who was sitting in the chair beside him. He must have said something to her for only her to hear because a slight blush freckled upon her cheeks. 

Azriel approached both of us, complimenting us. He hugged Mor, then looked at me for permission. I smiled at him and opened my arms to give him a hug. "Thank you, Az." The males were always hesitant to show any type of affection toward me. I understood why and I was grateful for it. 

As Azriel walked back over to where he was sitting previously at the dinner my eyes locked once more on the Illyrian general. 

"Y/N you look-" Cassian choked on his words. "I mean y-you both look, um, wow." He motioned to Mor and I. I'd never seen him so nervous. 

"Settle down Cass, you might just woo them away." Rhys said making Az laugh. Cassian's face turned red as he sat back down in his seat. Feyre swatted his arm and scolded him silently. 

The night continued on as we ate and drank. I sat at the end of the table with Elain on my right and Mor on my left. The smile on my face only grew bigger as the night went on. 

I kept the smile on my face as I glanced at Rhys and Feyre, who were talking quietly to each other, stealing kisses back and forth. I wanted that. That love that they share. That was the first time I was admitting it. I think I just realized why I felt that pang in my chest every time I looked at them together. That connection was what everyone craved. That unrelentless love. I didn't even know I was ready for that but I now realize that I do. 

I looked away from them. I couldn't watch anymore. I needed to focus on something else before they noticed my change in demeanor. 

I couldn't help but look at Cassian. He could always calm me down in the worst of times. It was like he knew I was watching him cause the second he looked at me every thing changed. It felt like the world stopped and something shifted. It started in my chest, a glowing warmth that began to sooth my aching heart, like a bandage to a wound. The warmth spread outwards, moving to my limbs and beyond my body, forming a bridge between us. 

The second that connection snapped I stood up abruptly, the chair beneath me almost falling back I pushed it back so quickly. The tears were already falling down my face. "You-" I couldn't even form a sentence. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to prevent myself from sobbing then and there. Cassian was standing too, worry all over his face. But he knew. I knew he knew. 

I couldn't breath. I knew people were calling my name. I knew Mor was by my side but everything felt numb. I needed to get out of here. 

I didn't look out as I ran out of the townhouse. Into the cold air, through the falling snow. He's my mate. Cassian is my mate.

"Gods, Y/N, you're gonna catch a cold out here." His voice alone soothed me. He appeared in front of me, wrapping a cloak around my shoulders to keep me warm. 

"How long?" I looked up at him, his face blurry through my tears. 

"Let's go back inside, I don't want you to get sick out here," he avoided the question, which only made me angry. 

"How long have you known, Cassian?" I raised my voice. I wiped my tears away so I could see him better. The sun was beginning to set but the faelights outside were shining on his face. 

"I knew the moment I saw you. It snapped immediately." He said quietly. He looked down at his feet, not daring to look at me. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice was barely above a whisper. I was trying to hold it together now but my voice was failing me. 

"How could I?" Cassian looked up and it was then that I noticed the tears in his eyes also. "After what they did to you. After everything you've been through... I couldn't put that burden on you."

"A burden? You feel being my mate is a burden?" 

"No, never." He reached his hands out like he wanted to hold me, but he lowered them and took a step away from me. "I didn't want to scare you. I wanted the bond to click into place for you. I wanted you to be ready. But I will never force anything upon you. If you want to reject it, I will be okay." It was hard for him to say that. I know he didn't mean to but I could feel him send his sadness through the bond. 

I stepped directly up to him, he straighten up but didn't move away this time. He was watching me nervously. I wanted him to hold me. I needed him to make the first move. I don't want him to be scared either. 

Warmth spread through my body as he gently placed his hand on the side of my face. I let out a small cry as I placed my hand on top of his, wanting him closer. I looked up at him. "You do not scare me, Cassian. There is no one in this world that makes me feel safer than when I'm with you. And I am honored to be your mate." 

Cassian let out a cry of relief as he pulled me into his embrace. We both stood there in the snow, holding each other so tightly, crying with one another. After a few minutes he pulled away first, both his hands cupping the sides of my face now. His thumbs wiping away the few tears on my cheeks. "The honor is mine. And I will give you the everlasting love you deserve, for eternity."

"As will I," I reached up and wiped his tears also. "I will need your patience. I would like to go slow." 

Cassian's eyes went wide and he took a step back from me. "Of course." 

I laughed a little and grabbed his hand pulling him back to me. "This is just fine." He smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist. "And I would like you to kiss me." A blush formed on my cheeks as I said that. I hadn't kissed a male in over a century. 

"You sure?" He asked. I nodded slowly, he leaned in closer and when he was just mere inches away from my face I closed my eyes. Finally his lips found mine in an achingly slow, gentle kiss. He was holding me so softly, as if afraid he would hurt me. "You're it for me. I'm never letting you go." I leaned into his touch, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 

"Should we go back inside with the others?" I asked, nuzzling my face into his chest. 

"Yeah, we should." He replied but neither of us made an effort to move. "They're watching us from the window." 

I whipped my head around to look at the house behind me, multiple heads jumped away from the window. I laughed and shook my head. "They're always so nosey."

"Let's go. It's getting cold." Cassian and I held hands as we walked back inside. He took my cloak off for me and hung it up. Everyone was sitting at the table acting totally normal. 

I noticed Mor has taken my seat, pretending to be in a serious conversation with Elain. Rhys was trying to hide his smile behind his drink. Cassian pulled out the empty seat from beside him, allowing me to sit down before he took his seat. My face was red as a tomato but Cassian had a smug grin on his. They were all pretending like nothing happened, that this was all totally normal. 

"Did you guys know it started snowing outside again?" I spoke up finally, a smirk on my face.

 "What?" "No way." "I had no idea." They all said as a chorus. Then we all started laughing. Thank the mother for that. 

Cassian grabbed the edge of my seat and pulled me closer to him, wrapping an arm around the back of my chair. I grabbed his other hand and held it in my lap with both of mine. I need the connection.

"So did you all know?" I had to ask. I wasn't mad. I found it funny actually. 

"Know what?" Rhys asked, playing dumb. Then a devilish grin formed on his face. 

"I told Rhys the moment I knew, Az suspected the same day." Cassian told me. 

"I figured it out easily," Amren said, her arms crossed over her chest and a bored look on her face. "He stares at you constantly."

 "I do not!" Cassian said loudly and everyone laughed again.

"She does the same, don't worry." Mor smirked at me and my eyes went wide. 

"I do?!" I didn't even realize. My face was so red right now. 

"Oh, all the time," Feyre spoke up. Cassian squeezed my hand, begging me to look up at him. When I did his face was so full of happiness, my heart felt like it was melting. 

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Do I have permission to kiss your cheek?" I giggled, literally giggled. Who am I? Where did this side of me come from?

"You have my permission and may do so anytime you want," I whispered back. He kissed my cheek with glee. I was so happy. I loved the affection he was giving me. He was respecting my boundaries and accepting that I wanted to go slow. But I now understood that with me wanting to accept the bond he was gonna take any affection he could get from me. I wanted to give him everything but I need time. 

"I think we can all agree, Cass and Y/N, we are very happy for you both." Rhysand raised his glass to us. Everyone copied, raising their glasses as well. 

Acotar Masterlist

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 9

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1.8 K

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), cyber-bullying/mean comments, SMUTSMUTSMUT (P in V, Fem receiving oral/fingering, hickeys, heavy making out, pet names, protection used!!!), you can not convince me that Chris isn’t a whimperer, self doubt, Not Edited

A/N: I’m sososososo sorry it took so long, I wanted it to be as good as possible. If anything doesn’t make sense, just chalk it up to my virginal status lol.

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

After patching things up with Matt, me and Chris decided to hard launch our relationship. It’s been two months since we went public, and the fans just seem to get more upset about it every day. Yesterday was our ten month anniversary, and the comments on our posts were horrific.

@ sturniolo.police

Do y’all think he just stays so she doesn’t kill herself?

@ Chris-Sturn-girlie

@ Sturniolo.police Probably, she treats her body like a kitchen counter… I would be scared too. I bet that’s the only reason why he even asked her out lol.

It was like watching a car accident, I couldn’t stop scrolling. I knew that it was stupid for me to think that dress was a good idea, but Chris picked it out specifically. The dress was a tight long sleeved crème dress. The issue was that it was fairly short, showing a large portion of my upper thighs. It was the first time since eighth grade that I felt comfortable wearing anything shorter than knee length, and less than 24 hours later I was severely regretting my decision.

“”“”“”“”“”

Now I stand in front of our mirror wondering if I should even go out with them tonight. The boys have a really important colab dinner, and I would hate for it to be ruined by people who don’t know how to be kind on the internet.

I look at myself and see someone I hate. The black short sleeve dress accentuates the jagged scars running across my wrists. I always tried to avoid spots that were hard to hide, but in that moment of desperation I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I’m so caught up in my thoughts, that I don’t even hear the door open.

“Is everything okay?” I look up to see Chris behind me, with his arms wrapped around my waist.

“I um… I don’t think I’m feeling up to going tonight… sorry.” He rests his head on my shoulder gently as he gives me a questioning glance. “I don’t want to ruin dinner, and everyone is already saying stuff about the scars on my legs… and if people find out I tried t-” I cut myself off before I could say the truth.

Chris turns me around quickly, looking deep into my eyes. “I don't give a shit what anyone else has to say, you are perfect for me… just as you are.” I try to protest, but he stops me before I can even get one word out. “But… if you don’t feel like going out tonight, that’s okay. I can tell my brothers to just go without us.”

I can feel my eyes burning, not from sadness or guilt, but from the realization that the man in front of me doesn’t care about anything but me. “You don’t have to miss it because of me, don’t feel like you have to stay home.”

In less than three seconds he’s putting his phone into his pocket. “Don’t be silly, I already texted the guys.” I hear the guys yell a quick goodbye and feel better from downstairs before the door closes and the car drives off. “Now… do you need any help getting out of that dress?” He gives me a quick kiss before turning me around so he can reach my zipper.

As soon as the zipper stops, my dress falls to a puddle on the floor. When I turn around I notice Chris’s eyes fall to the matching green butterfly set I have on.

When Chris finally meets my eyes again, his cheeks are a shade of red that I’ve never seen on him. “Like what you see, pretty boy?” Chris is a sputtering mess, trying to respond. I cut him off by quickly connecting my lips with his. His hands quickly find their way into my hair as he lifts me up by the backs of my legs, carrying me to our shared bed.

This wasn’t the first time me and Chris had ever made out, but something was different about this time. There was a hunger in each of us, that kissing couldn’t satiate.

Chris tossed me gently onto the bed before positioning himself above me and continuing our make out session. His lips slowly traveled down my neck, stopping for short moments, then continuing their assault until they landed on my collar bone. A moan left my mouth, much louder than I meant to, as my back arched off the bed.

“You like that baby?” Chris groaned into my ear.

“mhm…” My brain went blank as he made his way down to the valley of my breasts. “Please…”

“please what, ma?” He looks up to me with a mischievous grin.

“Touch me… please.” I practically whine out, upset that he stopped kissing me. Chris quickly taps my side, signaling me to lift up as he unclasps my bra in one swift movement. My bra is replaced with Chris’s hands before I even register that he removed it. He continues to leave wine colored marks across my breasts, while his hands squeeze in the most beautiful ways.

After what feels like an eternity, i feel Chris's hot breath moving down towards my waistline. He glances up at me quickly before turning his head toward my inner thigh. I feel him lift my leg up, over his shoulder, before he resumes his mission. "Did you know that your legs are my favorite part of your body?"

“no they aren’t.” I accuse with a small giggle. I never realized how ticklish my legs are. He quickly sucks on a spot, that will surely be a dark shade of red tomorrow morning, causing my brain to malfunction.

When he stops, I look down to see him looking at me with his big, blue, puppy dog eyes. He toys with my waistline, before finally opening his mouth. “Is this okay?”

I've never responded quicker, nodding my head aggressively while mumbling out a quick please and thank you. It takes him no time to get my panties off, and onto the floor. “You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“yes… just please touch me!” I’m practically begging when he decides to indulge me.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, seeing as I’ve never even ‘helped myself’. Whatever I expected, this was much better. The second he latched his lips onto my clit, I was seeing stars. My whole body felt warm and tingly, and I think I’m close. I quickly intertwine my fingers into Chris’s hair, pulling with the rhythm of his tongue. All of the sudden I feel a long thin finger entering, and I can’t stop the sudden sensation that was building inside me. I couldn’t even get out a full sentence without a loud, almost pornographic moan interrupting me. The second I feel a second finger, I loose all control over my body. My back arches off the bed, as my legs slam shut around Chris’s head. Once I manage to calm myself down, Chris slowly removes his fingers from inside of me.

“Having fun?” I see him wiping his hand against his pant leg, his lips still glistening with me. I don’t think I have the strength to speak, so I simply nod. “Was it… was that okay?” I can see the yearning for approval in his eyes. “… Like, was it good for you?”

I don’t really know how to respond to that question, my brain is stiff fuzzy from my orgasm. “It was amazing baby…” I don’t want this moment to end. “I want to… can we do more… If that’s okay?”

I swear Chris has the condom out in less than three seconds. “Are you sure?” He’s looking at me like he truly doesn’t care what’s in it for him. “We can stop… or do other things, you don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

I do my best to find his eyes in my dazed state. “I’m sure… if it’s anything like what you just did, I’m not sure I ever want you to stop.” He nods quickly before getting up and stripping.

The second his waistband hits mid thigh, his member is hitting his stomach. It looks painful, so red and hard. I don’t know how it’s going to fit, but I trust him. He slides the condom on, quickly climbing back on top of me.

“Are you sure the at you want this?” This again. “We can stop whenever you want to… and you really don’t have to do any-”

I cut him off quickly by grabbing ahold of him and making sure that he knows that my motives are purely selfish at this point in time. He finally gets the hint and lines himself up.

“fu-ck…” Chris practically whimpers as he pushes into me. I unintentionally clench around him, who knew that a man whimpering was so sexy?

“Babe… you gotta stop squeezing me like that, I won’t last.” I mutter a quick apology, before giving him the go ahead to start moving.

It’s an interesting feeling. It’s not necessarily painful or uncomfortable, just different. It doesn’t take long for the feeling to melt into pleasure though.

The house is filled with sounds of whimpering and moaning, as we reach our highs. Chris reaches down and starts rubbing heavenly circles against my already overstimulated clit, causing my orgasm to crash into me without warning. I swear my vision goes out for a minute while Chris chases his own high.

Chris slowly pulls out, making me cry out in pleasure. “I’m sorry, but I have to get you cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”

The second he leaves it hits me all at once. What if it wasn’t good for him? What if he realizes that he only wanted me for sex, and decides the rest isn’t worth it? What if he-

“Are you okay?” He pulls me from my doom spiral, as he starts cleaning me up. He crawls into the bed next to me, looking deep into my eyes.

“Sorry… my brain is just trying to convince me that you’re going to leave.” I see his eyes soften, as he realizes what I’m saying. “It’s not necessarily like I believe it, I just worry sometime that all of my flaws outweigh the things keeping you here… like what if you leave, or you only stay because you feel like I’ll kill myself if you don’t?” Chris stares at me, looking like he doesn’t fully grasp the concept. “Does that make sense? I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes.”

“Do you really think that I would do that?” The way he asks it makes my heart break.

It’s not like I really think that he would do something like that, but my brain just refuses to let me be happy. “No baby… I just find it so hard to trust anyone who says they care.”

Chris just pulls me into his arms, promising me that he loves me more than words could describe. After a few minutes in his arms we decide to put some clothes on and order some food. After dinner, I drift slowly into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos

[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, he 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

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, a bit of angst

• Warnings: describing birthing (not super detailed)

Daughter

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*

-Levi’s Pov-

I was already up and preparing breakfast when (Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes tired and yawning loudly. „Good morning Levi“, she mumbled and sat down at the table.

I supported myself on the kitchen sideboards, limped over to my pregnant wife and placed a kiss on her head. „Good morning you two.“

She hummed with closed eyes and rubbed her big belly. „Baby kicks just like you.“ I couldn’t help but chuckle. „It’s my baby after all.“ I placed my hand that wasn’t supporting my weight softly on her belly.

„Out of all qualities it could have gotten from you I really hoped it wouldn’t be your kicks“, she sighs dramatically and leans further back in the chair. I grabbed one of the other chairs that stood around the table and sat down in front of (Y/n) who had her eyes closed again, obviously exhausted from the long night.

„You’re not even born yet and already causing mommy sleepless nights?“ I spoke as I leaned further down until my face was in front of her belly. „Believe me, she’s way more pleasant when she slept well.“

For that I’ve earned a light slap on the head, causing another chuckle to leave my lips. Then I leaned up again and placed a kiss on my wife’s lips.

The amount of love I felt for this little rascal that wasn’t even born yet was overwhelming and sometimes left me scared.

„What if they don’t like me?“, I mumbled one of my many concerns against (Y/n)s soft lips. „Don’t be stupid“, she responded. „Our child is going to love you.“ And then placed another reassuring kiss on my lips.

But I wasn’t convinced. „I never had a father, I don’t even know how that works.“ (Y/n) wanted to say something but I just continued. „What if they’re scared of my scars? What if I can’t show my love enough? What if“ (Y/n) shut me up with a loud Shhhh and placed her hands on my cheeks. „Our baby is going to love you“, she repeated, not leaving any room for complaints.

„It’s time we talk about a potential godfather or godmother, don’t you think?“, she switched the topic while she stood up and grabbed herself a cup to pour some tea in it. I responded with a nod and said: „I nominate Armin.“

I could basically hear how her (e/c) eyes rolled. „It’s not a voting Levi“, she answered with a chuckle. „I know. I’m just messing with you“, I responded with a slight smirk. „Still Armin.“

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, her face decorated with the biggest, warmest smile that she always had when we planned anything related to the baby. „I thought about him too. He is so gentle and responsible. I’m pretty sure he will be so happy.“

„He’s least likely to drop the baby.“

The noise that came from my wife was made from the cup which she placed loudly on the cupboard again. „Levi!“

„I’m just saying what we both were thinking. They’re all just big ass kids, no way I’m leaving a fragile little human in their sweaty meathooks.“ I didn’t see the towel coming that flew in my direction and landed right on my face. While I pouted, acting like I was pissed, (Y/n) knew I was messing with her again and started to laugh so loud and long that I almost thought she would choke on her own voice.

—

Even though we planned everything thoroughly, the day the baby came still felt somehow chaotic. (Y/n) was a mess, I was a mess, everything was a mess.

It was morning when the water broke. I was reading the newspaper and watched the people through the window going to work, taking a walk, whatever normal people do, when suddenly (Y/n) started to whine. It was like a howl, painful and scared. My head turned and I saw her supporting herself on the doorframe to our bathroom in which she went seconds before.

I stood up and got to her as fast as I could, not paying attention to my crutch leaning against the table. It would only get in my way (like always).

„(Y/n)!“, I yelled, clueless what I could do instead. When I was beside her I could see the puddle on the floor. I hoped my fight or flight response would activate itself, like it did on the battlefield, but it didn’t. Instead I stood there with a horrified expression and looked at her. After a few seconds of brain-loss I caught myself again and wrapped my arms around her waist, which was kind of useless when I look back at it. „Come on, let’s get you in the bedroom.“

I had to let go of her immediately since I was no help for her with my broken leg, which I despised even more in this moment, and walked slowly behind her through the hallway into our bedroom.

The thick bedsheets that our midwife gave us where placed next to the bed, waiting for their time. I quickly spread them on the mattress on which (Y/n) sat down right after.

„Breath“, I reminded her (more myself to be honest) and took her hands in mine. For a second the world went quiet.

It’s happening. I am going to be a father very soon.

I quickly got rid of my sentimental thought and limped to the window, which I opened quickly and started to scan the streets, hoping I would see one of the brats.

„Oi!“ I yelled and immediately Armins head popped out of nowhere.

„Yes sir?“ I saw how his hand twitched, still tempted to salute. I‘m starting to believe he will never get used to not saluting.

„Get the nurse!“ I yell and a mix of horror and happiness appears on Armins face. „It’s time?“, he asks to which I nod. „Obviously!“ I yell even louder and watch him with an expecting look.

He took way too long for my liking to find out of his shock, but eventually he started to run to get the nurse while yelling „The baby‘s coming! The baby’s coming!“

I turned back around to face (Y/n) and watched how she shifts in bed to lie on her back. I walked up to her and sat next to her on the mattress.

„She‘ll be here any moment“, I reassured her while taking her hand in mine and waiting for the sound of the front door opening. After what felt like hours, but were probably not even minutes, the door swung open and our midwife, happy as ever, stepped inside the room.

„Well look at that!“, she calls out. „Looks like baby’s ready to see the world her parents made.“

She often told us how honored she was to work with us and she often tended to exaggerate a bit.

She made her way around the bed and asked (Y/N) to help her take off her underwear. She handed me the wet panty, which I quickly discarded on the floor, no way would I crawl away from my wife to tidy up right now.

The nightgown was pushed up over (Y/N)s thighs while the midwife took a look between her legs. „Yep, baby is in a hurry. I can already see the head.“

(Y/N) squeezed my hand tighter. „I’m scared“, she mumbled. I let go of her hand so I could wrap my arm around her. „Me too“, I whispered when she lied in my arms, grabbing my other hand.

„You ready to push momma?“, the nurse asked to which (Y/N) laughed a forced laugh. „I don’t have that much of a choice now, do I?“

A few hours of screaming and crying passed until a different cry cut through the air.

A light, but strong scream.

„There she is“, the nurse announced and took a towel in which she wrapped our child after cutting the umbilical cord. „A beautiful little girl.“

(Y/N) stretched out her arms, silently demanding the woman to give her the tiny being. Once she held our daughter in her arms she fell exhausted against my chest again.

Too stunned to speak I looked at the little human in her arms, looking just as exhausted as her mother.

(Y/N)s struggles weren’t over yet, since the placenta had to come out too, but after that was managed, the nurse gave us some time to ourselves while she would prepare some tea and something to eat.

Thankful for both, the peace and the fact that she would make something for us I nodded and watched how she closed the door behind her.

„She’s beautiful“, (Y/N) whispered. „Yeah“, I answered. „Just like her mother.“

I earned a tired smile from my wife and felt how she rested her head against my shoulder. „Do you want to hold her?“, she asked after a while.

„Of course!“ I said way too excited but got hesitant right after my statement. „But what if I do something wrong?“

„You won’t“, (Y/N) reassured me. „Take off you shirt.“ She giggled at my confused look. „Skin to skin“, she simply said and I remembered what the nurse told us. It’ll help bonding.

So I quickly got rid of my T-Shirt and then took my daughter as gently as possible into my hands. Her head was supported by my biceps and her little hand reached out and touched my chest lightly.

In awe I studied her face. The tiny eyes, the even tinier nose, her sweet cheeks and her lips that I just knew would carry the most warming smile the world would ever see.

(Y/N)s hand sneaked on our daughters stomach, not ready to give up every last bit of skin contact.

Suddenly my eyes filled with tears and my heart felt like it was about to burst from this immense and intense love I felt when I looked at my baby.

„If this is what the war was for“, I whispered with a shaky voice. „Then I would do it all again.“ The tears that at first just lingered in my eyes now streamed down my face. „Every last bit of it. I would do it all again for her.“

I glanced at (Y/N) and saw how she nodded, knowing exactly what I meant and knowing she would do the same.

„You still like the name Mary?“ I asked her to which I earned another nod. „Yes. But to be honest, she looks more like a Mary Isabel, don’t you think?“

My already endless stream of tears just got worse. Mary Isabel. (Y/N)s tears fell on my shoulder while we stood silent in agreement.

„Mary Isabel Ackerman“, I mumble after a while, my chest filled with love and pride. „My daughter.“

And suddenly I knew what peace felt like.

[sallowsunshine]

SORRY you probably have gotten a lot of quidditch related requests now but I got one more for ya

Hufflepuff x Sebastian

After the seb quest, they don’t turn him in ofc and he starts playing quidditch to take his mind off things but is still standoffish to the reader because he thinks it’d be better for her if she(or they) just forgot about him. Well she gets a chance to get his attention again when the hufflepuff quidditch team begs her to replace their seeker that got hurt? After hearing about her fifth year feats and she can’t say no to her housemates. No one knows about it until she steps onto the pitch in the hufflepuff - slytherin match and causes an uproar

Don't Push Me Away (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Thank you for this!! I love this so much. Okay, this is mostly in Sebastian’s POV. also major spoilers for his questline.

Sebastian Sallow had lost control of his life. He’d lost his oldest friend, and his own twin sister, and he had nothing to show for it. It would have been all worth it if he had cured Anne, but she was no better. Knowing it was Rookwood all along did bring him a sense of piece, knowing he was gone.

The summer before his 6th year was spent in isolation at his family home in Feldcroft. Anne didn’t wish to see him, and Sebastian didn’t know where she was staying. Ominis could barely stand to be around him, he would only send him the occasional owl with updates on Anne. He knew time heals all wounds, but he was afraid these were scars that would never fade. 

As for you, your summer was spent off on some other adventure, some other quest, some other ancient magic business. Yet you still took the time to send an occasional letter asking how Sebastian was doing. He was surprised to know you still wished to converse with him, seeing as everyone else had given up on him. Yet he never could send an owl back. He’d read and reread your letters, then sit down to reply, but he could never get the thoughts in his head out onto parchment. 

The more time Sebastian spent alone, the more he realized what a horrible friend he’d been to you. You were there, every step of the way, defending his actions to Ominis, convincing him to give Sebastian one more chance, and then another chance, and then another. 

First, he shifted the blame to the Goblins and Rookwood. Then he shifted the blame to Ominis, for not supporting him. Finally he looked at himself. He always thought the Dark Arts were hidden potential. He didn’t understand the fear behind the unforgivables. “How could a curse that could save your life be unforgivable?” he had once said. Now that he was on the other side of things, he knew why the Dark Arts were avoided. No one talked about the corruption the Dark Arts created. The hold it took on one’s mind was powerful. It was obsessive and invasive, and Sebastian no longer wanted any part of it. Yes, the Unforgiveable spells could save your life, but the aftermath would destroy it. 

After that realization, he didn’t deserve to hear from you. He couldn’t bare it. So he ignored any other letters from you. He wouldn’t even open them. It seemed anyone he involved himself with always ended up hurt, or worse, so he decided the best course of action was to free you of him. 

With how busy your summer seemed to be, he was sure you’d forget all about him and move on, but your letters never ceased. Sebastian tucked them away, leaving your concerns for him to be silenced.

After that, Sebastian finds tasks to occupy his mind. He takes to cleaning the house, clearing out Soloman Sallow’s belongings. He saves anything he might need or can sell, but the rest he gives to other villages in Feldcroft. He’s been avoiding Anne’s room, the feelings too painful to bare, but once he’s gone through everything else in the house, he finally cleans her room. Ominis had recently sent an owl, asking him to separate some of her things to be picked up at a later date. He opens her closet and pulls some clothing out. Something catches and he reaches to move it out of the way. It’s a wooden handle, and he pulls it out to reveal Anne’s secondhand broom. 

-

The school year finally crawls around. Sebastian is used to summers speeding by, dreading the start of classes again, but this year it is the reverse. He has yet to reach out to you once, and he knows you’ll give him an earful. He hates himself for this, but he needs to be cold towards you. He doesn’t ever want to hurt anyone again, and he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to Omins, Anne, and you. Even if it means ignoring you. You’d eventually take the hint and leave him alone- and be better off for it. 

Classes have yet to start and Slytherin captain Imelda Reyes is already talking about Quidditch team auditions in the Slytherin Common Room. After finding Anne’s broom, he had taken up flying and exploring the greater Feldcroft area. He’d never really been interested in sports, but flying provided a most welcome distraction. Before he thinks better of it, he’s approached  Imelda.

“Imelda, I’d like to try out for the team this year.” Sebastian chokes out, a bit intimated by the Chaser.

“You?” She laughs. “Very funny, Sallow. Don’t waste my time.”

“Imelda, I’m serious. I’d like to play this year- or even just practice.”

“Seriously? Well, we did lose one of our Beaters. Although you’d need to bulk up for sure-”

He tunes out the rest of her ramblings about how he could better himself. He doesn’t know why he asked to try out. He just wants something to focus on. Something new, that doesn’t involve spells, or exploring catacombs, or- well, the list could go on and on. He wants something to focus on that won’t remind him of you.

-

Hogwarts hasn’t changed one bit over the summer. You’re happy to be back, happy to be able to stay in one place. The whole summer you were running around, tying up loose ends with Professor Fig’s leftover research on ancient magic. Ranrok was gone, but he had many allies out there that you spent the summer tracking down. You had just finished unloading your trunk and were ready to head down to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. You had yet to see Ominis or Natty, and were eager to greet them.  As for Sebastian, you weren’t sure where you stood with him.  He hadn’t responded to a single one of your owls this summer, and you would have thought something had happened to him, had Ominis not told you he too had been conversing with Sebastian. Except Sebastian actually responded to to his letters.

-

Sebastian was officially avoiding you. Every time you saw him in the halls, he’d duck away. Everytime you sent him an owl asking to meet in the Undercroft, you’d wait around for hours, and he’d never show. You didn’t want to ask Ominis about it because you knew they were still sorting out their own problems. He wouldn’t sit with you in class. You had no other conclusion to reach except that he no longer wanted to be your friend. 

In a rush of frustration, you grab your broom, hoping the rush of fresh air would help calm you down.

You soar above the grounds, with no particular destination in mind. You’re surprised to find yourself at the Quidditch Pitch, where yellow and black robes cover the field. You land and walk in, excited to see your fellow Hufflepuffs’ Quidditch practice. Last year, Professor Black had cancelled the Quidditch season, so you were very much looking forward to it this year.

A couple students are hitting a ball a bit smaller than a Bludger back and forth with bats. Others are doing laps around the Pitch on their brooms. And lastly, Chasers are weaving back and forth, passing a Quaffle between them, and then attempting to score on a Keeper. 

“Name and position you’re trying out for!” A Hufflepuff shouts at you, a clipboard covering their face.

“Oi! I know you! You helped save the world last year! With Professor Fig. My condolences by the way. I don’t think we’ve officially met. My name’s Henriette Toro, but feel free to call me Henri!” 

“Oh, thanks, but I’m not here to try out, I just wanted to watch.”

“Nonsense! You totally should- oh, I know! You should try out for Seeker! Our starter is injured and no one else seems to want to try out,” Henri glances over the clipboard.

“I’m not sure I even know all the rules-”

“Listen, you’ve got time! We play our first match in three weeks, and we can’t play without a Seeker. We’re playing against Slytherin, an unlikely match we’d win anyways. You’re practically Hogwarts loyalty. You playing for us is more for show. As long as you look like you’re trying, no one will bat an eye.”

“Well-” you hesitate. 

“Listen, I know you know how to fly. I’ve heard Imelda grumbling about how you beat her time trials. Being a Seeker is all about speed. And good eyesight. I am begging you, please. Even if we lose that match, showing up with you on our team might make us the talk of the whole school.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do it.” you give in, maybe wishing you hadn’t wondered over here on today of all days.

“Lovely! I will work with you privately throughout the weeks to get you ready. Don’t tell anyone though. I want to see the look on Imelda’s face when you walk out on to the pitch on game day.” Henri smiles mischieveously.

-

Sebastian loves the distraction Quidditch has provided him. He’s also surprised to find that he’s getting along with Imelda a lot more than he used to. Sort of. She’s been pushing the team extra hard this last week, staying out until it was too dark to see the balls, and making the team eat together in the Great Hall so she can monitor what they ate.

“As you all know, we play Hufflepuff tomorrow. I’m ending practice early today so we can all get a goodnight’s sleep.” Imelda is giving her pregame speech. 

Early? Sebastian thinks, looking at the last bit of sun sinking over the horizon. 

“-so I’m not sure who their Seeker will be. I’ve no doubt Toro is waiting to announce it, thinking it’ll bother me. Well, she is wrong!” 

Sebastian tunes out the rest of Imelda’s speech, a bit nervous about the match. He wonders if you’ll be there to watch it, no doubt supporting your own house. He’s managed to avoid you for the first month of school by some miracle. Either that, or you must have taken the hint.

A wave of sorrow washes over him. Thinking about you makes him miss your friendship more than anything. He longs to talk with you, ask you how you’ve been, make sure you’re doing okay. But he reminds himself why he must avoid you. You’re better off without him. He knows if he keeps pushing you away, you’ll eventually give up. 

-

Rain has been pouring down all morning, with no signs of stopping for the match, Your heart is racing a mile a minute. You didn’t realize Sebastian had made Slytherin’s team.Out on the field, you’ll be forced to interact with Sebastian. You learned that he’s a Beater, one of his position descriptions being, stop the Seeker from getting the Snitch as all costs.  It’s game day and you’ve got the hood of your Quidditch robe over your head, keeping low so no one will recognize you, per Henri’s instructions. The team is lined up at the entrance to the pitch to make their flying introduction. Slytherin have gone it first, the audience cheering and clapping. 

-

Sebastian finishes the introduction lap with his team, the adrenaline from seeing such a big crowd giving him an unfamiliar thrill deep inside. He settles next to Imelda in the air. Imelda’s got her eyes trained on the entrance, waiting for the Hufflepuff’s self-deemed ace of a Seeker. 

The team enters, all flying in syncronization. In the back, is the new player, holding their hood over their face, keeping low and close to their broom. The team circles around once, the two beaters breaking off and doing some loops. They make their way to the center, the Seeker flying up to their starting position. Only then, they pull their hood back, revealing their face to the crowd. 

Sebastian practically gasps with the rest of the crowd. The Hufflepuff side erupts into cheers. “No bloody way.” Imelda breathes out.

No bloody way is right. Sebastian thinks.

-

Everyone instantly recognizes the face of the Hero of Hogwarts. Sebastian just sees you. He’s a little peeved, mostly because all his work in avoiding you is now in vain. The game has started and he has yet to take his eyes off you. You’re floating pretty high above everyone else, your eyes scanning every inch of the pitch.

It takes narrowly avoiding a Bludger to the head to knock Sebastian back into reality. He focuses back on the game, a bit surprised at how dirty Hufflepuff is playing. Their two Beaters have got Imelda pinned between them, forcing her towards a wall and then releasing her last minute. She’s too quick though, and narrowly avoids crashing into the barrier. 

-

Henri was right. Using you as their Seeker had the exact effect the team had been hoping for. Imelda was off her game, and the crowd was in an uproar. The rain has slowed to a light sprinkle and you were hovering above everyone, trying to spot the Golden Snitch. Honestly, in this weather, it felt useless.

Just then, a blur catched your eye and you turn in time to see a Bludger heading straight for you. You have no time to move, but someone zips up between you and the Bludger, smacking it away from you. To your surprise, it’s not a Hufflepuff Beater, but instead, it’s Sebastian.

“Sebastian!” you call out. He zooms away before you can stop him. You pull forward to chase after him. “Sebastian, wait, please.”

You’re the faster flyer, so you catch up to him easily. “Sebastian!” you call out one last time. “You’ve been avoiding me! Aren’t you tired of pushing everyone away?” you provoke him, hoping it’ll get him to at least face you. It works.

He slows and turns to you. “I’m not really sure this is the place nor the time to talk.” He yells so you can hear him through the rain and the noise of the crowd.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?” you laugh.

He returns your smile, “And oh boy, did you! Let’s finish this game before Imelda takes my own bat and beats me with it.”

“No more running, Sebastian. It’s time to accept help. And friendship.” You point to the Hufflepuff crest on your uniform. 

—--

I am fully aware I am lazy at finishing fics. Henri Toro belongs to cadencesroundglasses (not sure if you'd want to be tagged) thanks for letting me use your lovely Hufflepuff!

[roomsofangel]

GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER NINE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none really!

wc 1.3k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

this chapter is in san’s pov !

a/n i decided to update this today and give you all a double update for growing pains since i know it has been a good while:( let me know what you guys think :D

san thought he knew a lot of things back when he was still a rosy cheeked kid with deeper dimples than he had now — when he still had a lot of hope in the world and nothing snuffed out his spark just yet.

and maybe now that he’s an adult with more emotional scars than before, he can say he never wants anyone to feel the way he did. not since that night, he refuses to let anyone feel as if he has given up on them. sometimes he wonders if thats who he is or the fact he just wished no one ever gave up on him.

this small town, oh the ache it carried when he decided to come back three years ago to care for his mother. it was best to not live these days in his own rues, he had to learn to accept the past and embrace the future, no matter how much it ached.

and for the most part, san was fully convinced he was healed from that chapter of his life — that he no longer needed medication to make him feel alright.

“and this is yeosang.”

ah, that made his world shatter. kang yeosang in the flesh.

his eyes couldn’t help but match the other’s when they narrowed, eyeing and taking in the sight of how he was sat before the sound of your voice came up again, “you can sit by me if you want to.”

and san felt his heart ache a little, well— does it count as an ache? he hasn’t felt anything in his chest like this before, unless it was to do with hurt and sorrow. san nods, “of course yn.” he smiled, and tried to ignore the feeling of a glare on him as he took a seat with you, your smile warming him up.

it seemed that time was going by achingly slow, but san was thankful for the three that were there. mingi seemed to be decent, he reminded him of wooyoung. he should text wooyoung later, he forgot to do so.

as the movie progressed, it was some romcom that san could recall watching with his sister years ago, he couldn’t remember the name but he could recall certain scenes as he tried to snack on the popcorn given and focus on the texture, the taste. he could feel your hand brush against his and he felt his face warm, why was he warm?

“personally, if she says i’m a bird i’m gonna be a bird.” mingi broke the silence with his hands raised up in defense, making yunho snort and san couldn’t help but laugh a little himself and nod along. “so are you?” he teased a little and mingi grinned

“i like this guy.” mingi motioned over to san who nodded his head in acknowledgment and returned the grin, yunho agreeing with a “right!”

but san didn’t miss one thing,

the one thing but san is he was too observant for his own good

so yeosang must have forgotten that san noticed everything, even the similar little scowl that he remembered all too well.

“no! like this!” mingi shoved yunho aside to get onto the snowy ground, laying on his back and spread out to begin making a snow angel, making yunho groan and find a new spot to make his own

san chuckled, turning his attention to you who quickly looked away and back at your brother, making his lips only curl up more. he was convinced his face would hurt later on. “are they always like this?” he asked, wondering out loud and asking you while you nod and laugh. “sadly.” you said in response, san chuckled

“thank you for inviting me, yn.” san whispered softly as his eyes glanced up at the night sky, the stars twinkling and he noticed the moon was full. god, it was beautiful. he always loved the moon, he loved the different meanings and the different phases. how can something so magnetic and beautiful also be so far?

his eyes glanced towards you, your rosy nose scrunching as you felt the snowflakes fall onto the bridge of your nose and melt on your skin, your focus more on the same moon he was admiring.

how can something so magnetic and beautiful feel so far?

san walked back to his home, holding his house keys while you followed behind, your little hums making him smile at the snowy ground that he tried to focus on, counting each little detail. “hey san,” your voice met his ears, and he hummed in response

“i’m glad you came tonight.” you said, the two of you reaching his doorstep and he thought this was comical in a way, maybe even endearing. you were walking him to his door this time, oh how the roles reversed but he didn’t mind. he’d do anything to spend just even another second with you.

san smiled, “me too.”

“i’ll.. see you around?” your voice got a bit higher towards the end, your feet backpedaling to walk away soon to get on your way back home but your gaze was still on him, cheeks and nose rosy. “you know where to find me.” he whispered, not letting his eyes leave you for one moment. no, he needed to every little detail of you tonight committed to memory.

you looked.. so beautiful, under the moonlight with the snowflakes in your hair. “goodnight, san.” you looked at him, and he nodded.

“goodnight, yn.”

you reminded san of the moon,

he just hoped he could be your sun.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist (open) @myonlyloveseungmin @itsvxlentine @rockstarsanie @brown88 @barbielibra @vixensss @satsuri3su @yessa-vie @yoichiislovie

[nomsfaultau]

Pov you're one of MFR! Techno's classmates, not friends but amicable enough, and you watch everything go down

Huh he's hanging out with a lookalike cool cool wish I had one too

Oh he's sick? Chronically? Dang hope he's fine

Oh his parents were kidnapped— what

HANG ON HE'S ON TV???? WHAT

So, campus perception of Techno is actually touched on in the last chapter that’s taking forever to finish. Mostly in a comedy way but yeah, his classmates do notice!

I’m imagining they’re probably using his plagiarism service so like at first it’s mostly business but also like they do the public speaking on a project cause Techno doesn’t wanna, maybe waving at the caf but not eating together. Like offhand hear he’s published some books and it’s like oh that’s cool but not invested enough to check it out (which. Fair my friends didn’t read mine either lol).

Maybe they jokingly suggest Techno should pull pranks with Wilbur, trying to fish for info on the betting pool for what’s up. And Techno just mutters that the guy is clingy and nosy (which gets back to Phil obvs).

Then Techno’s chronically ill and like dang now they have to try on essays. Since he’s not responding to their texts (financial control is an abuse tactic Phil~). Maybe they sign a card that never gets to him. But Wilbur says he’s fine and he probably knows, right? And then on top of that Skeppy is freaking out because apparently his parents dipped pretty quickly after the guy went on hospice. And by the way Skeppy is muttering good riddance occasionally, it’s not super clear if Techno has like. Any financial support??? Must bc really crappy parents if they left their kid the moment he became disabled jeeze dude. Or really bad luck if they got murdered or something idk. A semester happens, they kinda forget about him except when maybe struggling with an essay. In late November Wilbur drops off the face of the earth but seems to still submit assignments according to a prof. Maybe he got sick too..?

And then Skeppy is sick maybe? For a few days? And then Techno is on the news and the court case drama is sweeping the tabloids and Techno is back with scars and a knife and jumps unexpectedly, bolts, rumors are flying about him attacking people and all the papers say he’s crazy. And maybe he is. But all they know is something had to have happened to change Techno from the laid back nerd they knew, the guy who breezed through tests and muttered roasts about the professor just loud enough they caught it sitting a row behind. Because the man constantly counting exits, with the hand that jolts to something lodged in his belt when startled, with the eyes that seem to strip you bare as they search for a threat that isn’t there- that’s not Techno. Right?

So while the whole world is convinced Techno is a delusional mess, quietly the students of Hypixel begin to wonder just who the Angel really is.

WH- WHY ARE ALL HIS FRIENDS ASKING FOR THEIR LITTLE BROTHER’S HAND ME DOWNS!?!?!?!??????????

[cattimeswithjellie]

Secret Life was great because every perspective on it is so fresh, you can watch just about everybody without even getting bored. Even in the finale, where everybody had the same secret, the plot unfolds like a flower, where you understand more of what actually happened the more you watch.

I just happened to watch Scar's episode first, which was a great place to start obviously because I got the basic story of the finale from beginning to end, and of course it was a wild ride! But there was so much left unknown, so many friends and enemies fallen without knowing what happened to them, so many plots unspooling outside of Scar's POV. In the end we were left with the same question he had: How did the guy with no friends win the game?

Part of the answer, of course, was obvious. Scar was absolutely on fire in Session 9, scoring an astonishing number of permakills and racking up the hearts to offset his recklessness. I'm not sure he quite realized the banger strategy he fell into by rushing in and just soaking damage while bashing his opponent to death, then using the ten hearts to repair the damage over and over again, but boy was it effective!

Beyond Scar himself, though, was a massive plot throughline that was only partially visible from his POV, and that was the loyalty the previous winners had to their teams above themselves. With the exception of Martyn, whose partner was lost two sessions ago, each previous Games winner had their own alliance and eventually their own favored player that they wanted to win.

Scott's loyalty to the Cherry Blossoms made their home into a fortress and Gem into a powerhouse partially fueled by his own life energy. She's a hell of a player on her own merits and tore a wide swath through the server in a brilliant first outing, but without Scott convincing Impulse to give her both their yellow lives, she would not have survived the combined effects of Grian's two ambushes to make her way into the final three. Along the way, the Cherry Blossoms took out both Bdubs and Joel, the two players who were Pearl's and who would otherwise have had her loyalty to the end of the line.

Grian's loyalty to the Roomies alliance was always more questionable than Scott's, because he is who he is, but he came through in the end and sent Cleo out of the portal cave while remaining behind to take on the near-suicidal task of triggering the explosion. And when he was discovered, he attempted to 1v3 the Cherry Blossoms to give his teammate more time to escape. (And it probably would've worked, if the remaining Mounders and Scar had not found Cleo and run her to ground at the same time.) Grian's last stand was perhaps the most pivotal moment in the late game because it changed the whole balance of power on the server. Scar never knew why Scott, Gem and Impulse were so much weaker than they were supposed to be at the end of the game, but we the audience know.

And of course Pearl's loyalty is unquestionable, even if by the end of the game, all the original targets for it were gone. Pearl proved herself a Mounder, bred and buttered (as they said in my neck of the woods.) She was quite wary of letting Scar into the alliance at all, but she is loyal and more interested in helping her team to victory than in taking a second crown for herself. Scott and Gem killed her guys before the end of the line, but she still had Scar, and she was still loyal to the end.

And thus the man with no friends wound up on the other side of a fight he'd already lived through four games ago, fighting an ally who didn't want to win for a victory he wasn't sure he deserved. But there's an important difference that I'm sure we'll be spending the entire rest of the series downtime dissecting: this time the victor _lived._

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 15: Pieces of You and Me

A/N: Another chapter that flits between povs.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of Tantiss and what Stitch went through, memory loss, intense feelings, angst, food, talking of scars.

Word Count: 6.1k+

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16

Masterlist

Tagging: @subbing-for-clones

You had never experienced this before…that you knew of.

You were currently surrounded by people eating, drinking, laughing and having fun. The lights around the terrace were warm and soft, casting a glow on the table laden with more food than you’d ever seen. The Mayor of Pabu and his daughter had joined, bringing half the food themselves and filling the table to capacity.

There was no need to talk, thankfully. Contenting yourself with watching and listening. Wrecker sat on your right, constantly offering you food, try this, no no try this. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you were still full from the pancakes this morning.

Hunter was a silent presence on your left at the head of the table. He watched and listened too, letting Shep and Wrecker banter the most, occasionally joining in.

Omega and Lyana were full of giggles and excited shouts as they spoke to Tech’s friend, Phee.

Crosshair brooded in the corner, absently patting the hound while he rolled a toothpick between his teeth.

Nursing a small cup of juice, you let the feelings sweep you away, riding the waves to try and blend in with them. Except, it didn’t work. The twilight sky caught your attention so you got up to watch the very end of the sunset with a scrape of your chair.

“Hey,” Hunter leaned forward, his brows knitted in concern. You appreciated it, but the concern everyone kept throwing your way was beginning to chafe already.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, keeping your tone light.

“Sure?”

Instead of rolling your eyes you gave him a very convincing smile. “I’m fine. I just want to watch the sunset.” He hummed, clearly unconvinced but he leaned back in his chair and you turned, letting the happy mask fall away.

Did you really fit in here before? You did not see how. Hunter had said you were a medic. The idea of that made you smirk, a medic indeed. You couldn’t tell the difference between painkillers and bacta right now.

The sky was darkening with each passing second. Fiery orange diminished to make way for the inky blue black that spread as far as the eye could see. The sky studded with stars, such a breathtakingly beautiful sight. One you wished you could commit to memory and carry with you wherever you went. You’d never allow yourself to be confined without seeing the sky, never again. You would fight until your last breath for the glorious sight mapped out above you.

A shadow appeared in your peripheral. He felt apprehensive and unsure. He was uncomfortable here, also not used to the extra people, the food, the noise.

“What was your final target accuracy score?” You asked, an attempt to take his mind off how he was feeling.

“50%,” he grumbled. Crosshair’s presence practically vibrated, like it contained something he desperately tried to hide. But you saw the waver in his fingers, the jerky rotation of his wrist even as he clenched his hand into a fist. It irked him. He felt weaker because of it.

“I’m not a very good shot.” He scoffed at your words, toying with the toothpick as he too, took in the glorious sky above his head.

“Tell that to the troopers on Tantiss.” Tracing the striations on the stone with your finger, you made a face.

“I felt every single one of their deaths,” you admitted quietly. Crosshair sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

“And on Lau?” You didn’t want to answer him because you weren’t sure you liked the answer.

“Yes. But those…” words failed and you gestured meekly to try and conjure some.

“You reacted. Like with the medic,” he guessed.

“I did,” you breathed, grateful to him. “When he threatened us with Hemlock.”

“Mmm.” He leaned on the stones, his elbow nestling against yours. His way of showing solidarity in the moment.

“That Captain was an absolute pile of banthashit,” you suddenly said.

“Biggest I’ve ever seen,” he agreed. For some reason his drawn out icy tone made you smile, followed by a sensation you hadn’t felt in a while. Joy bubbled up in a little laugh. Quickly you stifled it -- incase anyone noticed — by biting your lower lip and bravely nudging Crosshair’s shoulder. “What?”

“Are you warming to me, Cross?”

“Not if you call me that again,” he threatened darkly, but you saw the hint of mirth in his golden brown eyes. It was quickly wiped away when his hand violently spasamed. He tried to tuck it into his chest but you reached to touch his fingers.

He felt surprisingly warm. You expected him to pull away and when he didn’t, you felt your way round his hand. You could feel the vibrations, resonating strongly down his entire forearm. Your touch moved from his strong fingers, to flip his hand over and massage the palm with your thumbs. Guided by your intuition, your fingertips roamed to his wrist, feeling the soft skin in the middle and moving further up his arm over his sleeve.

“What are you doing?” He muttered, the disdain was evident but he did nothing to pull away.

“I don’t really know,” you admitted softly. “Apparently I used to be a medic and this just feels…right.”

You flinched away from Crosshair when there was a harsh scraping sound and Tech’s chair tipped over.

“‘Eeeeey!” Wrecker cheered, making Omega and Lyana giggle. Phee turned to Tech, her whole persona spiked with worry at his erratic behaviour.

“Tech?” Hunter called again, a pile of plates in his hands.

“He’s had too much wine,” Wrecker suggested, with a wink to the girls who cracked up again.

“I need to leave,” Tech stated. He didn’t look at anyone, heading in the direction of the ship.

You exhaled through your nose. Since the moment between you this morning, you had felt it fester in him. He didn’t understand, not really. He felt immense feelings for you, they were there all the time, only growing every time he laid eyes on you. You looked up at Crosshair, to find him studying you.

“Are you going after him, or am I?” He cocked an eyebrow and you knew he would go instead of you. He was asking if you were ready to have that conversation.

“I’ll go.”

“Suit yourself.” To anyone else he sounded so dismissive, except you felt the flicker of relief. Crosshair was worried about Tech, not that he’d ever voice it. “Be concise,” Crosshair murmured when you brushed past him.

Hunter almost collided with you at the gate, too busy looking in the direction that Tech had stormed off in. “I’ve got this,” you told him, placing a hand in the middle of his chest and pushing. Not that he budged.

“What if it’s too soon for you?”

“He’s struggling,” you said simply. Hunter cast his gaze to the floor. “He needs my help to understand.” Mutely, he tapped the comlink with a brush of a finger, telling you to call if needs be. With a hurried smile, you left before you lost your nerve.

The house wasn’t far from the ship, not really. But your mind had sped through about 200 different conversation starters, things you wanted to say, things you needed to say. Your months in captivity with no memory had been completely different for you than Tech.

Where he had searched and searched, you believed no one was coming.

Where his feelings grew, yours had been wiped.

You only had pieces to hold onto, but he had whole memories to get lost in.

Looking up at the locked ramp you blinked back forming tears and blanketed your rising emotions. Your fist knocked twice on the hull, hoping it had done it loud enough. You could see the interior light in the cockpit, you could also feel how close he was. You knocked again, jumping back when the ramp moved with a whine of the pistons.

“I have some repairs to attend to on the main systems,” he stated with clipped words from the cockpit. Slowly you entered, steadying yourself against the hatch to eye his tense back as he cleaned a tool in his hands. “I will not be sleeping at the house tonight.” His tone was brusque but you steeled yourself nonetheless.

“I just came to check on you.” The tool fell with such a heavy thump, you flinched. He was like a statue, staring straight out of the canopy without a look behind him. Gingerly you approached, bending to pick up the tool and turning it over in your hands. It was so heavy, with multiple heads that he could easily cycle through to do different jobs.

It warmed in your hands, drawing your sense into it until the colour disappeared and you were standing in front of Tech in a different place.

This Tech had less worry lines, his eyes smiled more and he was so much more relaxed.

“I got you something.” Nerves were pinging in your chest at his closeness, and at his obvious interest. Hesitation and hope was nestled warmly against your heart, happy to just have this moment with him. Tech took the box you offered and opened it to reveal the tool you were holding. “I hope it’s useful.” His fingers curled around the rubber grip and you panicked at his lack of reaction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know if you already had one, I’ve never noticed you with one.”

“I do not,” he interrupted your rambling. “I did not have one, until now.”

“Stitch.” The vision faded away, bringing you back to the gently lit interior of the Marauder. When you inhaled, you felt the warm glow still nestled against the pounding rhythm of your heart.

“I gave this to you.”

Tech didn’t know how to react. First he frowned, then his eyes darted away from you, hands balling at his sides. He was nervous, worried and hopeful all at once. “At the Festival on Ord Mantell.”

“It holds significance,” you commented, turning the tool over in your hands.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

He was wondering that you were doing here, why you had followed him. “Tech…?”

“Yes?” You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched.

“I want to talk to you, about…everything.” He gave you a resigned nod and abruptly sat in the pilot’s chair. The copilot chair was comfortable and it felt natural to sit here. Absently you toyed with the heavy tool in your hands as you tried to figure out what to say. “I am not sure how far back I should go,” you told him, putting the tool on the console between you.

“The beginning,” Tech told you with a confidence he didn’t fully feel. “As much information as you are willing to disclose. Comprehension is crucial.” He was right, you could feel it at his centre. He was confused with a strong desire to help get his Stitch back. Steeling yourself, you gave him the faint flicker of a smile. What had been done to you, needed to be faced, and who better to face it all with than Tech.

“Close the ramp.” He couldn’t move fast enough to comply while trying to ignore the faint tremor in his fingers.

Soon you were both sealed in, cocooned away from the world. Drawing your legs up you began to talk. Staring from the painful moment you had woken up on Tantiss.

You told him how you awoke in a machine, strapped down and bleeding with no recollection of how you got there.

You had no name.

No history.

No future.

You only had that moment, and it was one of agony and helplessness. The fear crept on you like a shadow, brewing larger and darker on the edges of your mind the longer you talked.

Occasionally Tech’s hand jerked or his leg jumped but he never interrupted you. Listening intensely to everything you had to say, even when it sounded like it had been made up.

You took him through the injections Hemlock did, the tests, even the visions you experienced. His sharp inhale told you they were possibly significant, but again he held back everything that was swirling in his mind.

You mentioned Niner, struggling to talk around the lump in your throat at the mention of the clone you had left behind.

It all came out about your senses and how they grew over time.

The quiet deaths that haunted your waking hours, the lack of outside and your frightening isolation for days on end.

Hemlock had told you he treated you with care, when really he had used you every step of the way. Everything that happened to you was for his gain. The incident with the holocrons still made your head ache and you absently swiped at your nose, completely lost in the memory.

Then you described the escape, not caring if he’d heard both Omega’s version and Crosshair’s. You told him about the kennels, what Niner had said and how he had tasked you with finding someone called Fi. It was the least you could do for Niner.

Tech reached for his datapad, barely taking his eyes off you to tap out something and then he was fully concentrating you again.

Tears tracked down your face when you spoke of taking lives, clone and natborn alike. The way you lost yourself to blind fear and anger at the docks in Lau, giving yourself over to the crawling power beneath your skin.

Words trembled as you spoke about the fractured memories. Unable to justify them without any solid origination. You explained it was like being shot out of airlock with no guide line. You were lost, swimming in a sea of confusion.

“And these scars…” fingers gently wandered over your arms to the serrated marks on your shoulder. “Where did they all come from and why can’t I remember?”

Tech glared, staring at the scars barely hidden by the strap of your dress. "That particular scar occurred on Kashyyyk. A Trandoshan grunt sunk his claws into you, and he is also responsible for the marks on your face.” That explained your nervousness on Lau with the Trandoshan at the gambling table. “He was killed as a consequence of his efforts.”

A chill walked down your spine at the hardness of his words, the blank look in his eyes said more than Tech ever could. He felt responsible. For failing you when you needed him the most. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“What about the rest?” You whispered, tears glistening on your fingertips from touching your cheeks.

Tech was mentally shaken from his thoughts, agitating his goggles briefly. “I believe the majority come from the period of slavery you were forced into.”

“I must have endured so much pain.”

He sighed. “Too much, in my opinion.”

“I look at them and feel nothing. It’s been…it’s all been unfairly stolen from me.”

“It has,” Tech agreed quietly.

Hemlock rose unbidden to the forefront of your thoughts. He was never going to leave you alone, he was never going to end the hunt for you. Glacial blue eyes were all you could see. Burning fire in your veins was all you could feel and it made the fear and anger come alive under your skin.

“He — he’s ripped so much from me.” The air became too thick to breathe. Your skin was too tight. Hot tears slid down your cheeks. Frustration forced you to press your face against your knees, not wanting Tech to see your struggle.

The creak of Tech’s chair told you he had moved. When you braved peeking over your knees, you found him kneeling on the ground. Anguish was written all over his face, his presence once again melding with yours easily.

“I am living with a fraction of myself,” you admitted quietly. “My body tells me I lived a life before I woke up in that place. And yet, I can’t recall any of it.”

Tech explored your features, trying to hide the sadness that echoed through him. “The visions you referred to, the ones involving you and me, are in fact, actual memories.”

“All fragments with no context,” you murmured, noticing the hurt that flinched across his presence. “I don’t know where to turn.”

“I will always strive to help you, Stitch. To the best of my abilities.” Tech’s words were true, if tainted.

You couldn’t help the frown at his words. “But I can feel your confusion when you look at me.” His gaze dropped down to focus on the base of the seat. “I know this is hard for you. I wear her face, I use her voice…the image you keep close to your heart, is not the one that sits before you.”

“I disagree,” Tech said with a slight frown of his own.

“I am not your Stitch, anymore.” The words hung between you. They felt a twisted version of truth, something you believed to be real but it didn’t resonate so easily with Tech.

Such a thing had hurt to say, making your heart stumble over its own pace coupled with the sting you had inflicted upon him. Tech’ emotional struggle was a vortex he barely managed to keep contained always threatening to beat him when he least expected it.

The pair of you suffered in the quiet of the cockpit, not knowing what to say next. Some tormented part of your soul needed to know if there was hope, if the tiny moments you had witnessed, did indeed mean something. “These pieces of you and me —.”

He accurately guessed where your thoughts were going. “I must ask you, not to discount them quite yet,” Tech pleaded softly. Relief surged in a tidal wave, relaxing some of the tension from your stiff shoulders. “It merely means there is a process to go through. I have formulated a hypothesis regarding your memory recall. If you would be open to try, I would like to test my theory.” He lifted a hand as though he wanted to comfort you in some way, but forced it back down to his side.

Such a simple movement wrenched at your heart, making your breath hitch soundly. “T-Tech, I want you to touch me.” His expression cycled through so many emotions at your stilted request. Brown eyes softened as they roamed from your booted feet, trailing over your hands and followed the line of your knees, to finally magnetise with your own gaze.

They were exactly as they had been in your visions. Entwined threads of brown and gold, colliding in a blend of reflective warmth. They were beautiful, showing you the depth of everything he’d endured.

He shone for you in ways no one else ever would.

Tech’s pent up yearning was like a magnetic pull, the constant ache inside his chest called to the hollow void within yours. Your grip loosened on your knees, letting them drop to the floor so you could lean forward. He started, his eyes widening in shock at your sudden closeness.

It was intoxicating to let those barriers fall. To finally bathe in the feel of him encompassing you. A shiver rippled down your spine as he ghosted his hands reverently up your arms, hesitant and slow incase you changed your mind. Your own hand reached for his top, curling the material in your fist.

There was agony here, echoing faintly in the moment. Tech’s suffering — being separated from you — for such a long duration, was carving more wounds you didn’t have the energy to carry.

So you smothered it with fire.

You pulled Tech close, lips on the verge of brushing. His apprehensive breaths panted into your mouth, fingers flexing with a gentle tightness on your arms.

You wanted this, Maker, you wanted him so badly your entire body felt fit to explode.

Tech cleared his throat. “Ah, Stitch?”

“Yes?” The response was husky, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, not happy with how far away he suddenly seemed through the haze of your want.

“Your absence made me realise…”

His words failed and you waited with bated breath for him to continue, his gaze leisurely moved to devour your lips, your cheeks and back up to your eyes.

“I…”

Anticipation swelled in your chest when he hesitated again, and you waited three torturous heartbeats before he spoke in a rush.

“I recorded moments of our time together.”

You withdrew a little at the abrupt change.

“I theorise by gradually exposing you to these memories in chronological sequence, we might establish a rudimentary timeline that could facilitate memory retrieval.” He was talking too fast, tugging out of your grip, leaving your hands empty and feeling more confused than before. "It appears your visions, post-Tantiss, may exhibit characteristics of hypermnesia, which tells me there is a high chance your affliction is solvable. What did you perceive earlier, when you touched the bunk?"

“Oh,” his pragmatic directness took you by surprise. “I saw you bleeding all over my hands. You were dying.” There was a slight pained look that flickered on his face before it was gone.

“And the tool?”

“I saw myself giving it to you as a gift.” He nodded and continued with his matter of fact explanation.

"I believe that Hemlock has potentially replicated dissociative amnesia, allowing for the suppression, rather than complete eradication, of memories. Unless he is using experimental methods that surpasses my knowledge of current Imperial technology." Tech muttered, reaching for his datapad. “It would explain why you experience these triggered episodes when you come into contact with objects that hold potential significance to you.”

“So you’re hoping, that by making me watch these memories, it will have the same effect?” He glanced up from the datapad.

“I am impressed. A simplistic interpretation, but correct.” He seemed totally calm now, completely in control while your emotions had fogged when he pulled away. “I suggest we commence from the very beginning, unless you have any objections?”

It was a lot to take in. First you had been riding high on emotion alone and now…your mind was being forced to catch up with everything he had just said.

Yet, the idea of finding yourself again, remembering who you were — not only for yourself — but for Tech as well. This wasn’t something you could really pass up.

“When can we start?”

“If you are amenable, we could initiate the process immediately.” He activated the hologram on the ship console, turning to you when his hand paused, but not looking directly at you. “I feel the need to proceed methodically,” he confessed gently. “I would prefer not to rush into actions that potentially have little or no meaning.” Tech’s words were sobering, making you think about the mistake you had nearly made. There wasn’t only you to think about in this mess, his pain was as real as yours and just as heavy a burden.

“Yes,” you agreed. Leaning back in the seat you gestured to the hologram. “How many of, um, our moments do you have recorded?”

“All of them.”

Hunter sat on the terrace outside the house. A warm cup of caf in his hands that steamed in the cool morning air. He had stayed up most of the night, worrying about Tech and you. But neither of you had come back and he wondered if that was a good thing.

Crosshair had been less than pleased about staying in the house, except Hunter had told him to give you and Tech space. Ordered him. It didn’t go down well and the sniper was already up to go and train with his rifle.

Hunter sighed, running a hand over the dark stubble that was coming up again. He had always shaved during his days in the GAR, made it more comfortable in the helmet. Though, now everyone was here and safe…maybe he could grow a beard. The door opened behind him and Hunter took a sip of his caf.

“You’re up early,” he commented. Omega yawned loudly, hopping up to sit on the wall and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Did they come back?” She murmured.

“Not yet.” He leaned into her, closing his eyes briefly. He had imagined all his worst nightmares these past 6 months. So he was going to soak in every second he could with Omega, for as long as he could.

“That’s a good thing. Right?” He shrugged, lifting her head up a little.

“Stitch is going through some things. Tech will always be the person to help her with that.”

“Crosshair said she had been reconditioned or something.” Hunter fiddled with the warm cup in his hands, he still felt massively guilty for what you had suffered while they searched.

“We don’t know what Hemlock does to clones,” he sighed. “We have you both back, that’s what matters.” Omega sat up, a shrewd look on her face.

“Stitch isn’t a clone though? Is she?”

“Ah…not like us, no.”

“What?! She’s a clone??”

Hunter nearly cursed. “Ah, Omega…I’m not even sure she knows…” he tried to stop her from yelling it any louder.

“We have to tell her!”

“In good time. Let her, get settled before we start putting facts like that before her.” She played with her bottom lip, twisting it between her fingers.

“I guess. How did you find out?”

“Met a group of clones on Mandalore who had some old files from the Kaminoan databanks.”

“Oh.” He was grateful she had seemed out of questions for now and went to drink some more caf.

“Who were they?” He should have known better.

“We didn’t meet them during the war, but we sure heard about them. A group of clones known as the Nulls.” Hunter could see the cogs in her mind working as she no doubt thought back to her days on Kamino.

“I remember Nala Se telling me about them. Null-class ARCs, she said they were a prototype, too unpredictable in nature and too close to the original donor in temperament.”

“Sounds about right,” Hunter chuckled.

“There you are, kid!” She beamed at Wrecker who popped his head out of the door. “Breakfast?”

“I’m coming!” Hunter turned his back to the view and watched her disappear into the house, casting his gaze in direction of the ship. He tossed back the last of his caf, leaving the cup on the table and set off with determined steps.

The ship was quiet. Almost too quiet. Hunter scratched his cheek, second guessing his thoughts to grow a beard if it was always this itchy. Steeling himself for what he might find, he activated the ramp and tentatively stepped inside.

A blue glow shone from the cockpit, so he peered round the side of the hatch letting out a quick breath of relief. There was a blanket on the floor of the cockpit, with Tech sitting up, legs outstretched, and on his datapad. You were draped over a blanket, head resting on Tech’s thigh with an arm tossed haphazardly across his lap.

“Stitch fell asleep a few hours ago,” Tech whispered when Hunter crouched down beside you both. He gently tugged a blanket to cover your torso, up to your shoulder. He still wasn’t used to seeing you in short sleeves, or showing any skin come to that.

“Wrecker and Omega are cooking breakfast.” Hunter looked up to see the hologram was paused on an image of you in your armour. You were looking up, caught in a half smile with the helmet held in your hands. “How did you get on?”

“Stitch has been an exemplary subject.”

Hunter reached out and nudged his brother gently in the shoulder. “Don’t call her a subject.” Tech frowned.

“It is the usual terminology,” he defended himself in a furious whisper.

“Try student instead,” Hunter offered, but Tech rolled his eyes.

“Student does not have the same meaning. I am not teaching her anything. I am exploring a hypothesis and therefore, she is a subject of particular interest, helping me to prove a theory.” Hunter sighed, running a hand over his face, the callouses scraping over his stubble. “You have not shaved for three days,” Tech observed turning the conversation away from him.

“Been kinda busy,” he grumbled in return. “Neither have you.” It was a childish retaliation, but sometimes Tech brought it out in him.

“I have already set aside time to complete that specific task today.” At that moment, you rolled onto your back, throwing your face against Tech’s stomach and lifting an arm above your head, nearly knocking the datapad from Tech’s hands. They both froze, wanting you to sleep for as long as you needed.

You stretched, arching your back slightly, then sighing when you relaxed, snuggling impossibly closer into Tech. He cast a desperate glance at Hunter that screamed he didn’t know what to do, coupled with a heated tinge to his cheeks and ears. Hunter smirked, giving Tech a shrug.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait! Hunter!” Not much rattled Tech, but having a woman in his lap clearly did and it amused Hunter more than it should have.

“We’ll save you some breakfast,” he teased, easing himself up so he could leave. He felt Tech’s glare all the way to the front door of the house.

Tech didn’t want to move. He had been surprised when you edged closer and closer to him in your sleep. Shocked and slightly horrified when you almost climbed into his lap.

You had watched a fair few memories, asking questions which Tech was only too happy to provide an answer for. You didn’t say much though, just nodded at his explanations and carried on watching. He was curious to know if you had remembered anything, seeing as you were rather tight lipped through the whole event about what you were experiencing.

But right now, Tech could barely breathe. Your warmth was seeping through his clothes, your face was pressed into his tense stomach with an arm draped over your head and his other leg. He had lost all feeling in his extremities a while ago. The idea of moving you though, was utterly unbearable. So he endured the numbness, content to try and remotely adjust some systems on the ship while he waited for you to wake up.

It had been a struggle knowing what to do with his hands. At first, he debated resting one on your shoulder, or your side but he felt that was too intimate at the moment.

Though, the entire position was too intimate for his liking right now.

It brought him back to the closeness of earlier. How you opened up about everything, talking about Tantiss and your visions, leading into your confused feelings about him. His heart had beat and bled with every word.

Then you had asked him to touch you, leaning into him and biting your lower lip. It was almost too much, having his hands on you again had nearly been his undoing. Tech had nearly ruined it all with three little words you were nowhere near ready to hear. Words you might never be ready for.

So he spoke about trying to regain your memories. Falling into the rhythm of his thought pattern and pulling himself away from the intense feelings you elicited from him. It was not the time, he had told himself over and over. The last thing he wanted was for you to regret anything that happened between you both. He wasn’t sure he could survive that.

He tensed when you moved again, bringing your hand down to rub your face, rolling heavily over his numb legs. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the ceiling of the cockpit and the rest of your surroundings. Then you noticed him and how you were laying all over him.

“Oh!” You jerked upright. He couldn’t deny the relief that flooded through his body as blood flow was initiated once more. Of course the loss of you was much more severe. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” your hand made a random motion at his legs.

“If your position had posed any inconvenience, I would have relocated you,” he told you, trying not to wince at the pins and needles now spiking down both legs. The one with the scar ached fiercely today. Tech expected you to get up and leave after you woke and he had already prepared to tell you he’d be along for breakfast momentarily. What he wasn’t prepared for, was you kneeling next to him with your hands outstretched.

“May I?”

He blinked owlishly. “May you, what?” You tugged on your bottom lip with your teeth, a move he found more than endearing.

“I can sense your old injury is aching. I could ease it for you. I did the same with Crosshair last night.” The admission made his chest tighten and then relax dramatically, as though he’d been holding onto that all this time and now only just let it completely go.

So there had been a reason for your hands to be on Crosshair last night. He fought the urge to grimace at himself, jealousy was such an ugly feeling.

“If you believe it will be beneficial.” Your fingers spread, lowering your hands to his leg, wrapping around his thigh. Nothing could stop the sharp inhale that escaped, but he did manage to contain the moan sitting in his chest. Just about.

You ran your thumbs up his leg. His eyes lost focus at how close you were to his groin, desperate to keep his thoughts as clean as possible. Then you massaged in little motions, pressing into his muscle, inching down so slowly.

“How’s that?” You murmured, concentrating on the motion of your hands.

“B-better.”

“I can sense the tension,” you admitted. “I feel it like a heat almost, I seem to know exactly what to do to lessen it.” Oh stars, yes you did. “Relax, Tech.”

“Mmhmm.” It was the only sound he could currently make.

Much too soon for his liking, you sat back on your heels, running a gentle hand to his knee. “There. I can do that again a bit later if it’s still aching.”

“Tech!” Omega’s voice floated through the still open ramp. “Stitch! We brought breakfast.” Tech was grateful for the distraction, ignoring the lingering pins and needles in his legs when he stood up. Wrecker appeared in the hatch behind Omega, carrying a platter of food.

“Hand delivered,” you said cheerfully to Omega, taking the cup of caf she offered. “Mmm. Black, just how I like it. How did you know?” You asked her.

“Because we know you,” Wrecker blurted out. “Ah, well, we used to. Used to know you.” Tech could see the strain in your expression even as you held the smile. He knew you felt worried about not being the person you were previously. I am not your Stitch, anymore. Never had a sentence desolated him that deeply before.

“Thank you, for the caf. I might go for a walk.”

Wrecker moved aside to let you past, locking eyes with Tech and giving a nervous shrug. “Did I say somethin’?”

“She’s adjusting still,” Omega told him wisely.

“I would have appreciated a moment to discuss last nights progress with her,” Tech found himself saying to the pair of them.

“Oh yeah?” Omega turned to him, a mischievous glint in her eye. “What progress, exactly?”

“In regard to the possible outcome of my hypothesis and her memory retrieval.” Wrecker groaned, covering his face with a huge hand while Omega seemed to be fighting a smile.

“Let her rest, Tech,” his brother said. He pursed his lips to refrain from telling Wrecker that you already had a decent amount of sleep last night. He pushed his goggles higher, feeling the frames press into his face.

“You need to eat,” Omega reminded Tech, taking the platter from Wrecker and putting it on a seat. “Make sure you do.” Then she took Wrecker’s hand and began to lead him out of the ship.

“Kid, Hunter said…”

“I know what Hunter said. But Tech needs to process as much as Stitch does. He’ll work on the ship and…” her voice trailed off the further she moved away.

Process…yes. He did need to mentally run through what had happened in the last 10 hours, pick it apart in his mind and not fixate on the way your hands had slid so effortlessly up his thigh.

A very difficult task indeed.

[nightghoul381]

Hello! I have a request if you may make something about alfons x mc/kate, like maybe me/kate was once a part of danganronpa game (a killing game) and when she saw corpses she had a panic attack or something, please and thank you :)

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took longer than I thought it would for me to get to this request, I was waiting on Alfons' birthday story to be released and translated so I could get a better feel for his pesonality.

I hope this story meets your expectations!

Never Again

Alfons (POV) x Reader Hurt/Comfort | Angst C/W: Mentions of death, blood and murder

Since we rescued you, I’d tried my best to protect you and keep you away from this sort of thing. I knew you were sensitive to the sight of bodies and no one could blame you.

You had been trapped by a twisted doctor who decided he wanted to pit several people against each other in a test of survival, last one alive was the winner. Crown had caught wind of the event only hours after the ‘event’ had started and before the end of the day we had managed to put a stop to it. But that was more than enough time to completely scar your mind.

You had been one of only three people who had managed to stay alive during that time, corpses strewn about the makeshift arena and blood spattered all over your horrified face. Something about the pure terror in your eyes tugged at my otherwise emotionless heart and I felt myself drawn to you. You looked like a frightened little deer, clinging to me as though I was the only thing keeping you from being dragged under by the torrent of emotions swirling through your brain. I felt compelled to hold you closer, cradling you in my arms until your trembling had ceased and your heart rate had slowed.

Ever since then I couldn’t seem to let you leave my side. I had never felt so overwhelmingly concerned over the well-being of another person as I did with you. I had managed to convince El and Victor to let you stay with us, El allowing you to live at his mansion with me and Victor allowing you to remain alive after witnessing the existence of Crown.

It surprisingly took only a short while for you to recover from the shock, and you’d been so desperate to earn your keep that you finagled your way into Crown’s innermost circle and were granted the opportunity to accompany the team on missions.

I tried to argue with Victor about this, you were already in such a fragile state from the trauma you had witnessed I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be for you to repeatedly experience murder and torture. Victor had tried to assure me that he would only allow you to accompany on the safest missions, where reconnaissance and intelligence gathering were the only goal.

I was still hesitant but you had been so excited to prove your worth that I couldn’t bring myself to stop you. I really regret not stopping you now.

This was supposed to be just a simple information gathering task, talk to a couple of people who were thought to have intel on some nobles associated with a group of thugs for hire. The nobles must have somehow caught wind of the meeting, however and when we arrived, the people were lying in a large pool of blood, devoid of life.

I tried to shield you from the sight but it was too late. Your eyes were stretched impossibly wide with terror, your breathing rapid and shallow and I hardly had time to catch you as you began to crumple to the floor, panicked gasps spilling from your lips as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown out the sound of your own racing mind. My heart lurched as you let out a frantic sob, eyes unblinking as you stared right through me to the grisly scene behind my back.

“Shhh, shh, sweet one it’s alright. You’re safe,” my words did nothing to soothe you as you curled into yourself, lost in your thoughts. Swallowing thickly, I slid one glove off, drawing my bare fingers across the nape of your neck and once again whispering calming promises of safety in your ear.

I hated using my ability on you. I wish that I could be the one to soothe you with my words and my presence alone, but this was the only way I could think of stopping the downward spiral of your mind into the darkness. I relaxed slightly as your breathing calmed and I was able to pull you tightly to my chest, holding you close like the precious treasure you had become for me. I gingerly shifted you in my arms, lifting you in such a way that allowed your face to remain buried against my chest as I carried you out of the building and away from the nightmare within its walls.

Never again, I thought inwardly, I will never let you feel this way again.

Taglist: @aquagirl1978 @themiscarnival @abundance-pathchooser @candied-boys

[i-sveikata]

Oh GIRRRLLLL

I honestly expected angst but got such soft interactions from this chapter! I mean, yes, Vegas was very filthy in his thoughts but also very sweet? I love him even if he doesn't love himself. Vegas feelings about himself are something we all assumed so no surprises here. It still hurts how badly abused he was and how it all turned him how he is now. Our childhood creates what we are in the future. It's another reason why I'm glad his father is finally dead.

I knew Vegas was in love with Pete. But OMG. His thoughts are so sweet and wholesome. He is so smitten 😂 If he could tell Pete he loves him, he would every hour. The complements!!

It's also nice to really see how he regrets all the hurt he has done to Pete. His confusion in the shower was really worrying. He is scarred as well by this time in the safehouse and will never forget. But I admire his determination to not hurt Pete ever again. Just this shows how much he means to him. I hope Pete's grandmother sees it too 😭

I hoped so bad that the talk would happen in this chapter. But ah, it's okay. I can wait 😩 But I know the conversation is not going to be pleasant. If Pete feels safe enough to sleep side by Vegas it should convince her it's okay?? Right?? 😭

After these few chapters with constant action, danger and sex, it really feels so calm. I loved their conversation about the future. They really needed that. And omg, finally they realized they can just lay together, talk and feel satisfied with it too. Vegas needs to learn he doesn't need to perform all the time to keep Pete's time and attention. And I loved Pete's reassurance that we won't leave. He doesn't want to leave. And that Vegas is more than that.

This chapter left me with this warm feeling. Not counting the dread of the upcoming confrontation 😅

Thank you for this! I loved it so much! 😊❤️

Ohhhhh right I guess I meant more internal angst?? Rather than relationship angst lol the only yikes moment was when Vegas thought they were back in the safe house and freaked Pete out too

Omg but yesss so much softness between them this chap they really are just so relieved that they’re both alive tbh haha yeah Vegas is a mixture of horny and romantic devotion for sure. Ahhh yeah we all saw that coming from the way he already treats himself having no concern for his own life and body his pov is really not all that surprising. Ugh yeah his dad sucks so bad we are very glad that he’s dead

Yesssss as soon as they get the I love yous out Vegas is going to be a totally menace like constantly telling Pete how much he adores him. Pete is going to be low key flustered for the rest of his life hahahah

Oh yeah that moment in the shower was VERY bad for him because Vegas’ low self esteem is already telling him that he’ll never deserve Pete and that he’s going to lose him but Vegas so desperate for his love that he wants to try anyway!!!! Despite!! Despite!!!That promise to himself not to physically hurt Pete again is just another way that Vegas is trying to prove to himself that he might be able to be good. That he can control his worst impulses. That maybe despite everything his father has told him he could somehow get this one thing right for pete. That’s why he freaked out so much about Pete’s wrist. That was his last hope going up in flames before his very eyes!!!

Oh lol the showdown with Pete and his grandmother feat drugged up Vegas is going to be VERY interesting hahah but they are going to find some kind of common ground don’t worry!

Yea was very important that they get the chance to just slow down for a second and be together (even if they had to be physically unable to move around in order to make that happen lol) but yes they are both steadily learning that they’re good for each other in these moments. That they both know how to take care of the other person (and that they understand each other enough that they can recognise when the other is holding on by a thread and needs that support) Whatever this fucked up thing between them is it seems to be working!! Not withstanding having to talk to Pete’s grandma about it hahahah