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ronwestbreeze · 9 months

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you’re gonna go far | 1

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human!reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.k

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15 October 2146

Dear Joan Reeds,

Hi Mom.

I know we’ve been sending video diaries to each other since you went to Pandora a year ago and this might be a little strange, but I thought writing this to you would be a lot less impersonal than sending a video. I don’t know, watching myself emote on camera has always made me uncomfortable—so when I respond to your video diaries, know that I’m actually excited to see them and not incredibly bored as I appear.

If that’s why you’ve stopped sending videos, because you think I’m bored of them, I promise you I’m not. And I miss your videos…

Year 2150

“—Unfortunately, your mother, along with the rest of the twelve other scientists had died before we were able to get them into quarantine.” One out of the three in military uniforms said.

You don’t quite remember how you got here.

Last you checked, your mother, Joan, was leaving for a huge project located on a discovered moon in the Alpha Centauri System. Pandora. An inhabited planet that the human population hoped to relocate. To find a newer home. Instead of the dying planet they created.

Joan had been accepted into the Avatar Program, a branch of the big project that had less to do with taking and more so giving. She, an esteemed scientist herself, would get to work with others like her. To explore a planet you only saw in dreams.

Dreams that would remain that way for a while.

You were only an apprentice at the time, ten years before 2150. Therefore, unqualified to accompany your mother on this new adventure. All you could do was be happy for her, even if she would be gone for a long, long time. But it was hard to be angry at that fact, remembering vividly how your mother looked before she left.

Identical eyes staring lovingly and worriedly back at you. Manic worry if anything.

“I want you to watch over the forest while I’m gone.” Joan laughed at your stunned expression. “You’ve been studying under me for years now, don’t be so shocked! You’ve followed me like a loyal shadow. My little shadow. You are the Head of the Amazon Division now. I trust you’ll continue my work.”

“Mom—I—are you sure?” A younger version of you asked. Ten years earlier you. “What if—how do you know? That I’m even ready? Surely there are more qualified scientists—”

Joan grinned, another identical trait you shared with her. “You have as much love for the Earth as I do. You have this determination, unlike any, to save it. To save what is left of this dying world, our home. Some might find it naïve. Others might discover a whole new planet to live on.” You smiled as she chuckled at that. “Yes, you will work with my second-in-command, he will show you the ropes—not like you already don’t know it—but he will be by your side until you are old enough to officially take over. But I have no doubt you can do it. And I need you to believe it too.”

There was a certain glow in your eye that matched your alight and determined face. This childlike wonder. This unyielding ball of hope that was you.

You nodded surely, holding her hand tightly, “I’ll do it. I’ll keep it safe for you.”

“Promise?”

You pressed your lips into a line, “Do you wanna pinky swear on it?”

Joan gasped, her face lighting up instantly. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Rolling your eyes at her excitement, you locked your pinky with hers. Tight and sure.

“I haven’t done this with you since I was five.”

“You’re never too old to make a promise!”

Joan then pulled you into a tight hug. Small drops of wetness fell onto your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything for a while.

She finally pulled away and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come back for you. My little shadow.” That was her promise.

Then she walked out of the door. And all you could do was smile for her. You couldn’t even be sad.

The woman in uniform spoke up next. “Dr. Reeds? I know this is difficult information to process—"

You still didn’t remember how you got here.

Last you checked, Joan had been on Pandora for nearly five years now.

During those years, you managed to keep your promise in the beginning.

There were more trees planted, the water was becoming cleaner as the days rolled by, and you managed to gain some military protection for the forest—along with more researchers joining the cause.

During the first year of her in Pandora, your mother would send you video diaries of her time on Pandora, which prompted you to send videos back in reply. Showing your progress so far and everything you have accomplished.

One time she sent a video of her crying dramatically while holding up a picture of you as a toddler.

“Look what I found in my suitcase—sniffles—you were so small and cute back then—sniffles—guys look how cute my baby is!”

You remembered cringing and smacking your head against the table. Some of your colleagues also enjoyed a chuckle or two.

Tell me about the creatures and the plants. Take me on one of your treks through the forest in your avatar body. I enjoyed those videos the most. I always looked forward to them, even if you think I thought it was boring or too much of a lecture. I promise you it wasn’t.

I wasn’t mad about the baby picture by the way. Yes, maybe embarrassed—I was fourteen, Mom—but it’s nice that you took something with you to remember me by.

Also don’t worry about the forest, everything’s fine here. I saw all your emails asking about it. And I don’t want you to worry too much, not so much that it would ruin your experience up there. I have everything under control, Mom…

Sometimes the videos had nothing to do with talking. Joan one time sent a video of her sleepily talking to you about anything until she eventually fell asleep. The rest of the video would be of her sleeping.

You told her she didn’t have to send videos when she should be resting.

“I just want to see you, honey.” She would respond back. “Plus, talking to you is always a perfect end to my day.”

So you didn’t complain. Talking to her, seeing a new video arrive in your inbox always made your worst days just a bit brighter.

After the first year, Joan stopped sending videos. You didn’t think anything of it at first. All you assumed was that she was buried in her work. Which meant that whatever she was doing, must’ve been important. Life-changing even. And you weren’t going to interrupt that.

One year turned into two.

Two turned into three.

Four.

Four years of radio silence.

Scarily, you allowed yourself to wonder if she forgot about you.

And before you knew it, that thought abruptly left your mind in place of another.

The forest was on fire.

You remember rushing around the lab, grabbing every research hard drive, journal—anything important and belonging to your mother’s long hardworking years of work before it could be destroyed by the fire.

But. But none of it mattered.

The forest burned to the ground. Everything your mother worked for. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

“Dr. Reeds?”

Your hands were covered in ash and blisters.

She was dead. Her forest burned down a day ago.

Now the three in uniform stood with you in what was left of the forest. The grey daylight haunting in the smoke.

The mask you wore protected your facial expressions. “When did she…?”

One of the men cleared his throat. Two men and one woman. “Four years ago. A few months after she first arrived on the planet. Their lab was compromised with a deadly toxin—”

“You said that already.” You pointed out impassively.

The male nodded, “Right—We were sent straight after, unfortunately, the journey from Pandora to Earth takes…”

You turned away from them. You wanted to throw up. You want to scream and call them liars.

But you were older now. Emotions controlled. Face restrained.

There was a certain dullness in your eyes that matched your worn and solemn face. This beaten and bruised resolve. This unyielding wave of resentment that was you.

Your mother had been dead for four years.

Without you knowing about it until now.

Everything you had thought. Had assumed. It meant nothing.

You thought she had abandoned you. You thought you were alone.

Turns out she was already gone.

And you were still alone.

Blinking away ash—tears maybe, you couldn’t tell—and looked back at the three in uniform. “Alright. You told me. Thank you for coming.”

With that, you begin to walk away and continue cleaning the spot you’d been working on before the uniforms had approached. Dumping the burnt bark and ash of what used to be trees into a plastic bag.

“There’s one other thing, Dr. Reeds.” The woman spoke next. You tried not to scowl in irritation and reluctantly turned back to them. “Before your mother passed, she asked that you take her place.”

Your heart lurched and your body grew stiff.

“The late Dr. Reeds had made a lot of progress on some research that could’ve been beneficial for our organization and project.” The woman tucked her hands behind her back, back straight as she continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “We need someone like you who can continue the work without fail and who knows Dr. Reeds…particular work ethic.” You frowned at the wording. The woman—she seemed to be leading this small crusade. “We have an avatar waiting for you. All you need to do is come with us to Pandora.”

And there it was. Anyone would’ve seen this as a second chance. Another opportunity to fix your mother’s legacy. To keep your promise.

But all you saw was something else you could screw up. Something else for you to destroy by fire. Another way to fail her. The forest was gone. You had killed the forest. Now they wanted you to take your mother’s place—possibly to work on something shady that they have full control over. When was it enough?

When would people stop expecting you to be Joan Reeds? When would they see that you were nothing like her? That you weren’t their savior, that you weren’t someone to turn to whenever the original goal didn’t work? You were nothing. Everything you touched ended up destroyed. So why?

Why would your mother want you to take over her perfectly structured sculpture? When all you were was the hammer that shattered it down to pieces.

You tightened your jaw, “I’m good here. Again, thank you for coming.”

Once more, you tried walking away.

“Unfortunately, Dr. Reeds, it is not a request.” Now you were scowling at the woman, not bothering to hide the expression this time. “We’re in dire need of your mother’s expertise. She can identify resources that the RDA has collected—better than anyone. And we could use these sources to put those…our enemies in place. Heal poisons we have little information about. Your mother—”

“My mother, it seems, had no idea what she was getting into when she accepted that job for the Avatar Program.” You sized all three of them up with a quick resolve. “You’re RDA, correct? Hmm, my mother may not have seen it but I do. I see right through you all.” With that, you raised your chin and steeled your back. “So, for the last time. Thank you for coming. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just learned my own mother’s fucking dead. I’d like to take the time to grieve if you don’t mind.”

As you turned to leave again, your mind wandered. Your eyes stared bleakly at what used to be a beautiful forest. It used to be so life-like. So, so beautiful.

Your mother was gone. And so was her forest.

Maybe you should’ve seen it as a sign.

Mother dead. Forest gone.

And where were your tears?

You stopped walking suddenly when something sharp hit the back of your neck.

Instantly, without warning, your body crumbled to the ground with a thud.

Breathing was difficult. Your body couldn’t move. Black shoes filled your vision.

“Apologies, Doc. But I did say it wasn’t a request.”

Slipping from your control, everything went dark.

If you must know, your forest is making amazing progress. We planted exactly thirty more trees in the past two months and they’ve grown healthily! I’ll send you pictures of them once I’ve sent this letter.

But as I said before, there’s nothing for you to worry about here. If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked and you know this. You should be focusing on making life-changing discoveries on Pandora. Also, have you met Dr. Grace Augustine yet? I’ve just finished her book and I have many questions! Can you, possibly, maybe relay my questions to Dr. Augustine? If you’re not busy of course…

Year 2155

It had been a good day for Jake Sully.

A long and grueling hunt had ended with many other warriors succeeding in their finds, just enough to feed their families, enough to feed the entire clan.

His pride only swelled more when his mate and the current Olo’eyktan grinned proudly at him as they started their way back home.

“You’ve gotten better, ma’tiyawn.” Tsu’tey had said with a smirk.

Jake’s heart warmed, “Well, I had an amazing teacher.” Tsu’tey looked even more smug then until Jake added. “Tell Neytiri I said thanks.”

A huff left his mate's mouth and Jake laughed at his reaction. “Tell her yourself, skxawng!”

When they both returned to their new home—a new location after the Hometree was destroyed last year—it wasn’t long before their third mate, Neytiri made her way back from a hunt as well. And Jake was right. She had to be one of the best hunters of the clan as she came carrying back a rather large sturmbeest at her tail. Large enough for tonight’s celebration. She yipped loudly, raising her bow up in a cheer as she returned to the clan.

Jake and Tsu’tey couldn’t take their eyes off their mate.

Once she managed to get to them, Tsu’tey was the first to meet her in a warm and tight hug—careful to watch for the baby carrier strapped to her chest.

“And how was our boy’s first hunt?” Tsu’tey smiled down at the one-month-old child, their firstborn, Neteyam, who smiled at the sight of his papa. His smaller hands grabbed onto one of Tsu’tey’s fingers.

“He will make a great hunter.” Neytiri smiled down at him, grabbing Tsu’tey’s other hand. “And you? Did you find anything?”

Jake chuckled, looking back at the sturmbeest a few warriors carried by. “Not as good as you, babe. Let’s just say if we had made it a bet, you would’ve won easily.”

“What’s a bet?” Tsu’tey questioned, with a furrow in his brow.

“I’ll tell you later.”

When they made it back to their hut—Jake did a quick look around to find that it was empty. Sending a silent prayer to Eywa, which he found himself doing a lot more recently, he was relieved to find that Tsu’tey’s mother was nowhere in sight.

Artsut, who had been a frequent visitor to their home ever since Neteyam was born. Before then she had steered clear of their hut—not wanting to go anywhere near Jake. He was a demon, a false body, the stain on their clan. Jake was fine with her being away from the hut—that was when he could tolerate her the most.

But after Neteyam was born, after the perfect Na’vi baby had come out of Neytiri, Artsut came around more to care for her grandson. Which meant Jake had to deal with more of her comments and sneers—and he would. For his son.

Forcing Artsut to not see her grandson would’ve been too cruel—not just for his son but for Tsu’tey as well. Tsu’tey—who wanted to keep the peace between his mates and his mother. Tsu’tey, the only male in his family who is able to stand up to her and not take any of her shit.

So, Jake wasn’t worried for the most part. Artsut would play nice for Tsu’tey—her favorite son. Omatikaya’s rightful Olo’eyktan. And Jake would ignore her presence. A fair compromise.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about seeing her now. Otherwise, his very good mood would be ruined.

“I went to see my mother today,” Neytiri said as she took Neteyam out of the carrier and gave him to Tsu’tey who was standing right next to her.

“For more training or something else?” Jake questioned, analyzing her body in a quick scan for any injuries he might’ve missed. “Are you okay?”

She smiled softly and pressed her hand to her stomach, “She told me that Eywa has blessed us with another child.”

Tsu’tey’s eyes widened and Jake’s mouth hung open. Neteyam watched them all quietly.

Neytiri looked down shyly, her ears fluttering, “I wanted to tell you at the celebration for a surprise but I couldn’t wait so—”

She didn’t get to finish as Tsu’tey launched himself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug, earning a joyous laugh from her. A large smile Jake hadn’t seen for a minute. Not since they first discovered Neteyam was coming.

Jake rushed over after placing his hunting equipment down, “You’re pregnant?” Neytiri nodded as Tsu’tey pulled away with a smile of his own. A grin broke out on his face as he pulled her in for a loving kiss, “Oh baby, I love you so much.”

All three of them joined together then—including Neteyam who giggled at their smiles. Sharing kisses, long hugs, and large smiles that they couldn’t contain.

Happiness was simple. That was what Jake believed.

He never thought he could achieve something like that. Not on Earth. Hell, no even on Pandora. Not after everything—but he worked hard for it. He kept going, wanting to prove to himself and his mates that he belonged there. That he was one of the People. That he would be a good mate. A good father.

And not something that destroys everything by a single touch.

Happiness was as simple as it was rare.

Whenever it came, Jake grasped onto it as tightly as he could. Because he never knew when he’d ever have it again.

He held on tight when Tsu’tey survived the battle against the Sky People. Nurtured it when Tsu’tey soon joined him and Neytiri in their union as mates. Loved it when Neteyam was born with his eyes and Neytiri’s markings.

But even then, even if he had a well-adjusted life a year into being on Pandora, Jake still had a long way to go. A long path to make up for all the strife he had caused.

For now, he would enjoy this night. He would enjoy being with his mates. He would enjoy this joyous celebration of the sturmbeest and the new life that would be here in nine months’ time.

It had been a good day for Jake Sully.

That night, Neytiri laid between Tsu’tey and him. That night he watched Tsu’tey’s body carefully as he usually did during the other nights. That night he couldn’t shake the warmth in his chest.

Happiness is simple.

At some point, Jake turned onto his back. His eyes trailing up to the sky. Stars. There were always stars here. And every night, Jake counted them until he fell asleep. Every night he had one arm around Neytiri. Every night he reached his hand out just enough until his fingers brushed against Tsu’tey’s bicep. Every night he would be the last out of the three of them—or four if he counted the heavy sleeper that was his son—to fall asleep.

Only this time there was a moving star in the sky. For a moment, Jake thought he was dreaming.

But the star kept moving. Closer and closer toward Pandora. Until Jake knew that it wasn’t a star anymore.

A body shifted, Jake instantly got up and placed gentle hands on Tsu’tey’s shaking body, trying his best to calm his mate down from the nightmares. Not knowing what he would do if he had to tell him—to tell Neytiri—that they were about to wake up in one.

It had been a good day.

Until it wasn’t.

Do you think I’ll like Pandora? I still dream about it. Being there with you. Do you still want me to come one day?

You woke up on a ship.

“Hold her down boys.”

At the moment, you hadn’t realized your body jerked roughly or that you were now being held down in your seat by a bunch of hands, far stronger and firmer than you. Never mind the tight seatbelt across your lap, no, they wanted to make sure you couldn’t escape.

So, you screamed. A horror-filled cry that sucked in all sound in the ship. Leaving the rest of the passengers with nothing but silence and your scream.

“Calm down, Doc.” The woman sat across from you spoke. The very same woman that approached you in your mother’s forest. “We wouldn’t want you harming yourself before we even get to the planet.”

With as much strength as you could muster, you tried pulling away from the two men sitting on either side of you, whose grips were practically steel. “What did you do?! Where the hell am I?!”

“I already told you five years ago, it wasn’t a request.”

You didn’t need to ask what she meant by five years. Your mother had told you about the process that got her to Pandora in one of her video diaries. You didn’t have to figure it out in your hazy state without getting pissed.

“You stole five years off me! What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” You seethed.

The woman looked unconcerned toward your outburst. “Your mother’s work is too important to give up, Doc. She and her group of scientists were close to probably giving us the one edge we needed against the Na’vi. The inhabitants of Pandora. With your mother gone along with the rest of her group, we were desperate for a replacement. Which is why we needed you. Which is why we wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Why the hell would I help you?!” You snapped, still fighting against the two male’s hold on you. “Get off me!”

“Boys.” The woman gestured for them to let go. After a pause, the hands were gone from your arms. And that was when you began to notice your surroundings.

Yes, you were on some type of ship with a few other soldiers. All of you strapped down to seats. And instead of your ash-covered clothes, you were now in a simple grey tank top, borrowed camouflage pants, and black combat shoes.

Slight groans and whines along the walls told you that the ship was still flying.

So you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. You had been practically kidnapped by the military—the RDA.

And you were trapped.

That is, until you reach Pandora.

“Now if you’re done throwing a fit,” The woman brought out a tablet and held it toward you. “I’m Captain DeVoe, by the way. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doc.”

You didn’t take the tablet.

Captain DeVoe sighed before pulling the tablet away and began typing on the screen. “Your mother had been close to finding a way to create an antidote for the neurotoxin those savages use on the tip of their arrows. It’s dangerous for us humans. And our goal is to get this small obstacle out of the way in order to proceed with our mission.”

You let out a short laugh, your body still tense and trapped. “Like I said. Why the hell would I help you? What my mother does has nothing to do with me.”

“Oh, but it does, honey,” DeVoe smirked while you scowled. The captain had to have been in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was cut short into a blonde buzzcut. Toned muscles underneath her long-sleeved shirt. She looked like she could break you in two without even breaking a sweat. So there was no point in trying to fight her. At least not in this confined space.

She held out the tablet to you. And again, you didn’t reach for it. Instead, you pressed your back against the wall behind you. DeVoe didn’t lower the tablet. From your spot, you could see on the screen a light blue rectangle and a digital lock above it.

“She’s kept everything we need behind a lock. Her last words were for you to unlock it and finish her work.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “Those were her last words?” Another brittle laugh left your lips. “Wow, you all must be very desperate.” You continued to laugh, unafraid of the glare the captain sent you. “Fuck you. Fuck everyone on the ship and fuck the RDA! I haven’t even gotten to see her body yet—did you even bury her? Or did you toss her aside when you didn’t find any use for her anymore?”

DeVoe blinked and frowned. She then sighed, “I am sorry for your loss, Dr. Reeds. Really, I am. And I know emotions are quite high right now—”

“Fuck you.” You snorted humorlessly before leaning back against the wall again. The two men on either side of you shifted. You ignored them.

“Yes, you’ve said that already.” DeVoe tucked the tablet down next to her right thigh. You glanced at it briefly before directing your scowl back to the woman.

A speaker suddenly came to life above all of you. “We’ve entered the atmosphere. Landing in twenty.”

You sat up straighter as everyone suddenly began placing what looked like advanced oxygen masks on their faces.

Through all your righteous anger, you hadn’t truly realized it until right then. You were on Pandora. You were going to land in the place of your dreams.

And you refused to be happy about it.

DeVoe handed you a mask as she grabbed bags from under her seat. “Quaritch was always good at being persuasive. He’ll convince you. He always—"

A loud boom rattled your ears.

The ship suddenly flipped—if not for the seatbelts, you would’ve flipped too—and then it felt as if you were falling.

Falling.

You put on the mask in hopes of helping bring the air back into your lungs.

Falling.

Thud!

Do you remember your second-in-command? JJ? Well, he retired recently. We threw him a really big party. Plus, he just had a baby too. I think it’s a girl last I checked, I’m going to have to ask Cheryl about that—you know her. Always being in the know with her coworkers…

There was no light. Heat closed in all around you, suffocating you and fogging your mask—or was that your quick breaths? No, that was the smoke.

Your ears rang terribly. People were moving but you couldn’t see who. Someone suddenly grabbed your arm, cut the seatbelt from your lap, and practically hauled your body from the seats and through the smoke.

You weren’t walking. A striking pain in your thigh prevented you from doing so.

Suddenly there was light. Lots of it. Your vision was somewhat clear enough to see that you were now outside. Enough for you to see that the one dragging you was a feral-looking DeVoe.

“Shoot them all down now!” She screamed. There was a long gash along her toned arm. “Contact base! We need backup ASAP!”

Finally, you realized what was happening.

There was fire—why was there always fire?

The large, winged creatures flew above the damage with people riding them. There were yips and hollers from the people on the creatures mixed with the explosions and shouts from DeVoe.

As your senses began coming back, as the world began to set around you, your instincts finally kicked in.

While DeVoe was distracted giving orders, you searched the ground until your eyes landed on a nearby rock. Quickly, you lunged for it, grasped it, and smacked it in the back of her head without wasting another second.

And the impact was hard too. You were sure you heard a loud crack from it.

When DeVoe ducked and stumbled, her grip on you loosened, giving you the chance to run. Or rather, limp through the wreckage and away from the fight happening around you.

But because of your leg, you didn’t make it too far.

A sudden weight knocked you down, a cry leaving your lips as you hit the ground. Wincing in pain from the burning in your left leg. When you tried getting up, the weight kept you pinned down. Whatever landed on top of you made sure you wouldn’t be able to move.

“I already told you!” Roughly, you were turned onto your back. DeVoe was on top of you, snarling. “You have no choice! Not when it comes to saving your race!”

“Get off me!” You cried out, trying to push her off. But DeVoe remained as firm as iron.

“That was a cute little stun you pulled back there. But make sure to remember this.” Instantly, she yanked your mask off.

Your eyes were wide and a loud gasp left your lips,

DeVoe grinned, a mad glint in her eye. “Your life is in my hands! That means I protect it or take it just like that! Don’t be stupid, Doc. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. Pick! I protect you or you die!”

You held your breath. More booms sounded around you. More winged creatures flew above you. More yips. More hollers.

Briefly, you glanced at the mask in her hand and considered everything leading up to now. Because you didn’t have much of a choice.

None but one.

Finally, you stopped fighting. Your limbs fell loose against her.

DeVoe nodded with a smirk, “Good choice.” She gave you back your mask and stood up. You kept holding your breath. “Back up should be here soon. We’ll have enough numbers to take down these savages—”

She abruptly cut herself off when you slammed the mask down on your good knee, shattering it.

You then started breathing in the air.

“What are you doing?!” DeVoe screeched, grabbing you by the front of your shirt.

You grinned now, struggling to breathe, “You need me. I don’t need you.”

To them, you were valuable. DeVoe knew this. Which was why you knew she wouldn’t go through with killing you herself. It was like they said on the ship. You were too valuable. And they were desperate.

And that value would be lost once you’re dead.

“Damn you brat!” DeVoe growled as she took off her mask. “Selfish bitch—”

Blood splattered across your face when an arrow found its way through DeVoe’s head.

She slumped against you, the mask falling from her hand and skittering onto the ground a few feet away from you.

Your mind had not realized that DeVoe was killed. Was dead now. All you cared about now was grabbing the mask.

So once you got the dead weight off of you, you began crawling toward the mask. Your breathing becoming a struggle with every passing second.

You hadn’t realized—just like with DeVoe—that someone was watching you. Curiously and quietly following you as you crawled. You didn’t realize you weren’t alone until blue feet appeared in your line of vision. Until four fingers took the mask off the ground and away from your grasp.

A whimper left your lips through hollow breaths as you looked up to find a tall, blue alien woman standing over you. With guarded, yet silently curious yellow eyes.

A Na’vi. You had seen them in your mother’s videos. You had seen her avatar.

“Mom.” You rasped, lying on your back. You didn’t know how much time you had. Might as well stick to the original plan then.

Become invaluable.

But Mom…

“I-I just want my Mom.”

The Na’vi woman just stared at you. Her fierce gaze turned into something somewhat contemplative. You weren’t even sure if she understood you.

Black spots covered your vision.

There was barely any oxygen left to grasp for.

“Demon.”

The Na’vi woman hissed just as you lost consciousness.

This had to be the second time you’ve woken up from passing out.

Only instead of a ship greeting you, it was a white ceiling. And somehow instead of lying dead in the ship wreckage, you were instead lying on a cot. With a bandage wrapped around your injured thigh.

It was slow—slower than before—but everything came back to you. You were on Pandora. DeVoe was dead. At least that’s what you remembered happening. The arrow through her head certainly wasn’t a hallucination.

But why weren’t you dead?

For a while, you just say on the cot. Trying to figure out what exactly happened.

The Na’vi woman. Did she…Did she give you the mask?

No. She’d have no reason to. Something must’ve happened while you were passed out.

You were in some type of cell—perfect—no bars but no doubt some type of impenetrable glass in front of you.

A groan left your lips, dropping your head into your hands.

How the hell did it get so much worse?

A door opened further away from your cell. A thin-looking man stepped through it. A human man.

You watched him carefully and silently. The human male nodded to you. “You must be Dr. Reeds.”

Instantly, you tensed and the words tumbled out of your mouth, “I already told DeVoe I’m not helping the RDA. So torture me all you want but you’re not getting shit from me.”

He raised his brows both curiously and observantly. “The RDA hasn’t been allowed back on Pandora for a year now. Not after the war.”

War? You carefully stood from your cot, “Then why am I here?”

“Because you were on an RDA ship—” You move to protest, “Before you say anything or curse me, I already know about Joan Reeds and your supposed arrival. But unfortunately, you arrived at a pretty bad time. The People are skittish. They think it’s best to keep you here for now—”

“What the fuck?!” You screamed. The resolve was broken. There was no composing anything anymore. Your face was heated. Your muscles ached. Your throat hurting. “I didn’t even want to come here! Those fuckers kidnapped me and now I have to be imprisoned in a cell because of them?! I’m not RDA! I have nothing to do with this! All I want to do is see my mother who I couldn’t even bury!”

Toward the end of your rageful sentence, your voice quivered.

“Is she even buried yet?” You asked him, your voice now quieter.

After a pause, the male nodded. “She was buried. She…She was one of the few humans the Na’vi got along with. They gave her a burial years before. She—I’m sorry for your loss.

Everything was so—heavy. You were just exhausted.

You hadn’t even been able to grieve for her. Cry for her.

“I didn’t even know she was dead.” You sunk back down on the cot. “Not for four years. I didn’t she was dead for four fucking years. And now I’m here. On a planet I’ve been dreaming about since I was young. But now it’s just some fucked up nightmare.”

There was a long silence between the both of you. The male rubbed the back of his neck before saying cautiously, “Yeah, this isn’t ideal—um, I’m Norm, by the way. Norm Spellman. I work in the Avatar Program. I—well, I didn’t know or meet your mother personally but she was an amazing and intelligent scientist. Her work here and on Earth is very admirable.”

You almost scoffed at that but said nothing.

Norm moved to say more but stopped instantly, pressing a hand to his ear. For a beat, you watched him bleakly, as if he were listening to something.

He then turned to you, “Hold that thought.” And as soon as you blinked, he was gone out of the room.

For a moment, it was silent.

And then you cried.

And cried.

Until your eyes offered no more tears left to give.

I had to clean up cow shit yesterday. And I’m definitely smiling when I tell you this. It’s progress but you probably get to see and interact with creatures we don’t even have here. So, at least you’re up there…

Norm came back a little later after that. He approached your cell, typing something against the wall. A second later, the glass came down.

You straightened.

“They want to talk to you.” He said.

“Who?” You frowned tiredly as you slowly got to your feet, wincing at your thigh.

Norm thought for a bit, “Some representatives of the clan nearby.”

Reluctantly, you followed Norm out of the cell. He led you through a hallway until you approached a door where Norm grabbed a mask for himself and you.

“They’re right out there.”

When you walked out the door, you were startled to find three winged creatures and tall—really tall—Na’vi waiting at the landing strip where you were sure ships would’ve been. But instead, it looked a bit abandoned.

“Dr. Reeds this is the chief of the Omatikaya Clan, Tsu’tey, that’s Neytiri, and the last one is the clan’s Toruk Makto, Jake Sully.”

You analyzed all three of them. The Na’vi woman—Neytiri—you recognized from the crash. The one that had been standing over you before you passed out. Long braids, warrior paint on her face—matching her body posture she instantly took as soon as you came out of the building, and a bow clutched in one hand with a fierce expression. She was sizing you up. Same as you did.

The next one—Tsu’tey—watched your movements carefully. Out of the three he looked like the one in charge, a leader, someone that of importance. His snarl was severe, even making Norm shift uncomfortably despite it not being directed at him. He gripped a spear tightly in his hands, his eyes following every slight movement you made. As if readying himself to take you down the moment you step out of line. Dangerous beast.

Then there was Jake Sully. If you hadn’t learned his name, you could instantly tell that he stood out somewhat among the three. Compared to Neytiri and Tsu’tey, Jake’s stance was different. More human-like. Like a Marine—which you had been around back on Earth. They were mostly the ones hired as military protection, so you were around them often. Jake was exactly that. But it didn’t make him any less fierce or severe.

Then of course there was the gun that he held—another huge thing that stood out among the three of them.

“And this is Dr. Reeds. She was supposed to replace the late Dr. Joan Reeds, a friend of Grace—”

“Why is she here now?” The leader, Tsu’tey interrupted with a scowl. “We need no more demons here.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek but didn’t say anything. Norm, fortunately, continued talking so you didn’t have to. “The timing’s off, I know, but it’s on record that she was supposed to arrive here upon Dr. Reeds' last request. And confirmed by Dr. Augustine herself. She’s only a scientist, that’s all. We even have an unused avatar waiting for her.”

Tsu’tey didn’t look convinced, not surprising. Neytiri’s eyes never wavered from you. Jake’s tail swished behind him, but his expression was unreadable.

Norm cleared his throat, “If Grace approved of it—”

“Where’s my mother buried?” You asked. All four eyes snapped to you. Norm gave you a look that you ignored. “Spellman told me she had a burial here. I just want to see her. That’s all.”

“And then what?” Jake questioned, eyes narrowed. His face was still guarded.

You didn’t care for it. “I don’t know. Maybe then I’ll go back to Earth and die with the rest of the planet. Does that suffice?”

Tsu’tey frowned, clearly not liking your response while Jake lowered the gun slightly. Neytiri slowly eased out of her defensive stance.

Norm chuckled nervously—attempting to save your sardonic response, “You hear that? She said she’ll leave.”

You breathed out a sigh. God, you were so tired. “I just want my Mom. Please, that’s all I ask.”

Another beat went by before Jake, spoke first but in another language. Tsu’tey didn’t look happy at whatever Jake was saying, his ears were pinned to the sides of his head. Neytiri, on the other hand, looked contemplative.

Eventually, Jake turned back to you with a stern frown, “We’ll have a few warriors take you to your mother’s burial.”

“And after you do not return.” Tsu’tey hissed, his violent eyes pinning you in place. If I see you on my grounds again, I will kill you, demon.”

Jake breathed out through his nose, closing his eyes. He then looked at you, “Understood?”

You huffed, “Loud and clear.”

You’re far away from this mess and I think that’s good. Not that there is a mess, I’m just saying metaphorically….You know what never mind. I hope you’re having fun, Mom.

Please respond. I miss your videos. And it’s getting pretty lonely down here.

I still want you to have fun so don’t put too much energy into trying to respond.

I’ll leave you now.

Love,

your little shadow.

PS.

Remember how you said I accomplish more stuff than you could ever imagine? I kind of get the feeling you were only saying that to make me feel better. It’s pretty clear by now that out of the two of us, you’re gonna go far. Farther than I can reach.

Okay, bye now.

yes, another series! this time i'm going full force with the poly than i do with my other fics. and you guys have this beautiful fanart to thank! also i listened to you're gonna go far by noah kahan the whole time i wrote this chapter so it's probably obvious i was inspired by that song. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this new mini series of mine for anyone that's still out there in the fandom lol. i hope you guys will give this a chance--and tell me your thoughts when you're done! i love hearing from y'all. full rants and everything!

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g1rld1ary · 18 days

Text

you never disappointed me - part five

part one part two part three four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; luke tries to apologise for the party, but it takes you a while to forgive him (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3753

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, swearing

➻ did this take a month? yes. am I sorry? yes. will it happen again? absolutely

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth @maraudersmyloves losergirlcrowley amortencjja wisecrownpaper iammightsadyall odeasforyou rlqfpdl

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were humiliated. You’d spent all night crying, mortification setting in thick over your body as you lay on your bed. However, despite how embarrassed you were, you were mostly angry. Angry at Luke for acting so affectionate, for making you believe that he really liked you then pulling away at the last second. Angry at yourself. Angry that after all these years, all it took was one stupid boy to bring down all your walls; angry that you let yourself be led into this situation.

And so that morning, instead of letting yourself mope around about it anymore, you picked yourself up with a new determination. You were angry, and everyone was going to know about it. Your braids were pulled extra tight, not in the mood to deal with flyaways or gentleness, and the smudged eyeliner around your eyes served as a reminder of the tears you’d wasted.

There was a much shorter line at the Lava Wall than usual. Although skipping out on activities could earn you some shitty chores or revoked dessert privileges, your bad mood had seeped into the whole area, practically lowering the temperature around you. You only had a few newer campers dare to enter your territory, and it took a Herculean effort to not snap at them for even coming near you.

Luke watched you from afar, hidden away in one of his typically safe smoking spots. He was trying to gauge your mood, see if anything was fixable. His prospects currently looked grim. He watched in anticipation as a young girl made a dumb mistake. Luke thought it wouldn’t have been her fault — Chiron had made him tour her around camp only a few weeks ago and she’d been pretty beat up before she got to camp. He watched you yank her off the Lava Wall moments before disaster, and held his breath as you both seemed to falter. The girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, and your face was unreadable, which was usually not a good thing. Just as he thought you were going to take out all your feelings on the scared kid, you crouched down to her level, thumb wiping away her spilled tears. You spoke softly to her, bringing her down from an impending breakdown with a gentleness that didn’t often emerge at camp.

The interaction gave Luke some hope, maybe your heart hadn’t totally closed off. That thought was quashed, however, when minutes later you ripped Travis Stoll a new one for being an ‘egotistical dickhead’ as he fooled around on the wall. Luke was genuinely shocked at the volume which came from your body, he could have mistaken it for a conch horn. Even Travis seemed a little taken aback at your outburst. Usually your bad moods were pretty easy to avoid — stay out of your way and you stayed away from others. Clearly today, though, you had anger to get out of your system, and you weren’t hesitant in expressing it.

You were still upset by lunchtime, and your day only got worse.

“Dance for me, cowboy,” Katy Gardener yelled, evil grin shining across the Dining Pavilion. You kept your head down and ignored it, hurrying to your table. A body popped up in front of you, blocking your path.

“What do we owe you for the table dance, babe?” Ethan crooned, and if you were in a slightly more private setting you would have decked him. You grumbled out a “Fuck you,” and shoved past him towards Drew, knowing that at least she wouldn’t reproach you in public. Ethan clearly wasn’t done with you yet, though, and began an all too innocent conversation with Mr D.

“Why don’t you ask how her weekend was, Mr D?” He said, throwing a casual glance over to you.

“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb ass, Elton, I don’t wanna hear it.” You could have kissed Mr D, and then immediately recoiled at the thought. Ethan’s embarrassed expression was enough to please you though, and you sunk into your meal silently, but at least not active with anger.

After lunch Luke tried to apologise to you, or explain himself at least. He knew you were upset, but he was still feeling good about himself. He had noble intentions, and was doing objectively the right thing by not taking advantage of you when you were drunk. None of these sentiments were expressed, though, when you stormed right past him, making sure to land an extra aggressive stomp on his foot as you went. Chris couldn’t hold back his loud laugh, clapping Luke on the back in semi-sympathy as he headed to his own next activity. Luke stood dumbly in his spot for a few minutes, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Clearly you were more upset than he thought.

Your own next activity was Ancient Greek with Mr D. You didn’t know why he taught it at all given you personally thought he was hardly fluent, but it was one activity you actually didn’t mind, especially as you got older. Whilst the younger kids had lessons focused on getting used to the alphabet and language, the elder campers who were more fluent had more traditional ‘english’ classes — learning about texts and languages, only in Ancient Greek so the dyslexia didn’t slow you down as much.

You shot Mr D a tightlipped smile as you walked into the pavilion, hoping to get by the lesson unscathed, though you didn’t have much hope. Both Ethan and Luke were in this class, and you really didn’t want to see either (though Luke usually skipped, so he wasn’t such a pressing issue).

Just your luck, Ethan was already in his unassigned assigned seat behind you, filling in the campers who didn’t attend the party about your escapades. You just rolled your eyes, trying to seem somewhat graceful about your own actions, but the leering eyes of your peers was making it supremely difficult. For once you did regret not making many friends at camp — if you had, maybe your humiliation wouldn’t be such a hot topic, but the very presence of your class reminded you why you had no interest in being friends with them.

The room thankfully quietened down when Mr D walked in, the whole camp somewhat wary of his temper. He started the lesson: Shakespeare. You perked up a bit from your slouched position in the chair. Whilst school wasn’t exactly your strong point with the ADHD and dyslexia, Shakespeare was something you actually kind of understood. When you were younger your Dad had taken you and Silena to a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you’d loved it ever since. Shakespeare translated into Greek was maybe your dream.

Mr D started talking about sonnets, and you got the distinct impression that he didn’t totally know what he was talking about — or just didn’t care enough to go into any detail. You figured that was more correct since he was the god of theatre, but you could never be totally sure with Dionysus. Regardless, he’d moved on from explaining the basic form of a sonnet and had set you a project: write your own version of Shakespeare’s sonnet 141. You sat straighter in your seat, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto your face. You raised your hand, slightly offended by Mr D’s eye roll.

“Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?” He sighed, but you persevered nonetheless.

“Do you want it in iambic pentameter?” You asked.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” He hesitated, and you revelled in the fact that you could still surprise him after all these years.

“No, I think it’s a really good assignment.”

“You’re just messing with me, right Barton?”

“Beauregard,” You corrected for the thousandth time, “But no. I’m really excited to write it.” You picked uncomfortably at your cargos as the class watched your exchange.

“Go see Chiron.”

“What?”

“Get out!” He yelled, not quite angry but you weren’t going to be the one to test him. There were rumours of previous campers who’d been turned into dolphins and you did not want to continue that legacy. You wandered out of Greek class, still slightly confused at what had just happened, and headed back to your cabin, not bothering to go see Chiron. With the cabin to yourself you tried to get a start on Mr D’s project, but inspiration was lacking and you resorted to taking a nap instead.

The rift between you and Luke became public knowledge at that night’s campfire. Without even realising it you’d started sitting with him most nights (or rather he sat with you, bothering you until you submitted to a conversation). Then suddenly you were avoiding him like the plague, spitting out a harsh “Get fucked, Castellan,” when he called your name softly, almost begging you to talk to him. You were never one to back down from your decisions though, and left him in the dust, taking a seat next to Clarisse. You could tell even Chris could see something was seriously wrong as he pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s hand and disappeared somewhere, presumably to sit with Luke.

You didn’t even really know why you were at the campfire in the first place. You’d been only a handful of times before you knew Luke, and now you didn’t want to know him yet here you were. Clarisse tried to keep you entertained with her quiet comments — which did admittedly make you snort a laugh once or twice, but you were otherwise miserable. You sure as hell weren’t going to participate or chat to anyone, and you were really regretting not just pursuing your usual routine of getting to the top of the Aphrodite cabin for stargazing. Plus, you could feel Luke’s eyes following your every move, and you were getting fed up with the kicked puppy act.

Your final straw was the singing — why was everyone in Camp Half-Blood so obsessed with singing? The second some douchebag from Apollo brought out a guitar you were done, launching yourself out of your seat and stomping back towards your cabin for some peace and quiet. Just as you were crossing the threshold out of the amphitheatre a hand grabbed your arm and you whirled around to face the culprit, ripping your arm out of his embrace.

“Touch me again, Castellan, and I swear to the Gods I will make sure you have no hands to use.”

“Look, I just wanted—”

“I don’t care, Castellan. We don’t always get what we want, do we?” You knew you were being mean, but you frankly didn’t care. When Luke was shocked into silence, mouth slightly open as he searched for anything to say, you took the opportunity to leave him in the dust, trying to keep your confident walk even as your legs were shaking slightly.

“Bro, what did you do to her?” Beckendorf approached Luke up near the exit of the amphitheatre.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke snapped, before taking a beat to calm himself down, “She would’ve been too drunk to remember.”

“But the plan was working!”

“What do you care? I thought you wanted out.” A slight blush crept on Beckendorf’s face, accompanying the dumb grin.

“Yeah, well I did, but, um, that was until she kissed me.” Despite his own bad luck, Luke couldn’t help but be happy for Beckendorf, slightly hating the fact that the lame younger boy had grown on him significantly. He let Charles ramble about the kiss for a bit despite his decreasing interest in the conversation, very glad when Percy joined them.

“So I talked to Clarisse,” He said, and Luke knew by his tone the news wasn’t going to be good. Beckendorf was still hopeful (or just naive) though, and pestered him for more details. “’Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ is the direct quote.” All three of them grimaced, yet Beckendorf persisted.

“Hey, we don’t know. She might just need a day to cool off.” Luke thought back to the bruise you’d left on his foot earlier in the day.

“Maybe two.”

The Aphrodite kids were all in archery except you, who’d claimed to be sick to get out of it. So, Silena was on her own and vulnerable to Ethan approaching.

“Hey there, Cupid.” He popped up behind her, not noticing the grimace creeping onto Silena’s face.

“Hi, Ethan.” She refused to look at him, focusing instead on aiming her arrow.

“I want to talk about the end of summer dance.” Silena rolled her eyes as the rest of her siblings pretended to mind their own business despite their innate need to know what was going on.

“Look, you know the deal. I can’t go if my sister doesn’t.” The end of summer dance was exactly what it sounded like; a big party for all the kids at camp to celebrate the three months they’d spent together and send off the kids who weren’t staying all year round. Though the actual dance was supervised, it was a well known secret that all of the older campers stayed out through the night drinking and dancing, and most of the folk around camp turned a blind eye for the night. Usually, your dad would pick you up just before the party started, which would inevitably result in a fight between you and Silena. Now though, Silena wasn’t quite so against leaving early, wanting out of the boy drama she’d found herself in.

“Your sister is going,” Ethan said, puffing out his chest as if it made him look more manly. Silena’s surprise was genuine.

“Since when?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it,” Was all Ethan said before walking away, confident swagger in his step as he passed in front of your siblings, and Silena wondered how many of them were holding back the urge to let go of their arrow as he crossed them.

Still, Ethan had to make good on his word, so he found himself approaching Luke again. Rummaging around in his pockets, Ethan presented him with 200 dollars in cash. Luke raised an eyebrow, not bothering with words.

“This should take care of everything for the dance. I’m sure you don’t own anything presentable so this is for a new outfit, flowers for her, whatever. As long as she comes to the dance.” Luke stared at him, and was disgusted at what he was feeling. He might’ve been growing a conscience, something that would be greatly inconvenient for his life as the scary, unsociable older guy at camp.

“I’m sick of your game,” He said finally, pushing the cash back towards Ethan, who frowned. Luke got the distinct feeling he’d never been told no before — except by you, of course. Ethan exaggerated a huff and reached back into his pocket, pulling out one more hundred dollar bill. Luke faltered. He was sick of hurting you, but three hundred dollars was a lot of money. And without any way of making income as a year-rounder it was only more attractive. So Luke swallowed his pride and his morals and took the money. Though, getting you to ever consider going out with him again was basically a hopeless case.

So Luke began his new quest of getting you to speak to him again. He’d shown up to the Lava Wall full of audacity and enthusiasm, and waited patiently in line as you helped the other kids, pretending you couldn’t see him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to leave — or have his turn on the climbing wall — until you acknowledged him, you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped, gesturing for the Athena kid standing behind Luke to have her turn.

“I want to improve my time,” He smiled, and you could tell he thought he was being cute. You only partly secretly agreed.

“You’re so…” You trailed off, unable to find a word appropriate for your audience of children.

“Charming?” He asked, and there was that smile again. “Wholesome?”

“Unwelcome,” You settled on, turning back to your duties.

“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” You froze for a second, then told the kid waiting to start to hold on until you could get rid of him.

“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Ohh, someone still has their panties in a twist!”

“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” You scoffed, subconsciously adjusting your denim shorts.

“Then what did I have an effect on?” Despite the two of you clearly arguing, there was a surprisingly vulnerable look in his eyes. You ignored it.

“Other than my upchuck reflex? Nothing.” You turned on your heel, making it clear the conversation was over.

You were absent from that night’s campfire, which Luke was grateful for since Percy and Beckendorf had much to say about the plan, none good.

“So she’s still majorly pissed,” Percy started and Luke snorted.

“Yeah, got that, genius.”

“Well the question is, how do you stop a girl from being mad?” Beckendorf asked, and Luke could only cringe at how they sounded. With the way the three of them were talking, any passerby would surely think they were three prepubescent virgins. From next to them, Annabeth sighed harshly.

“Look, Luke. You embarrassed her, her ego’s taken a hit. Devastating for any girl, especially damaging for a daughter of Aphrodite. You need to get on her level; even the score and embarrass yourself for her.” The boys sat back, stunned. One by one they processed the instructions, nodding slowly. Thank the Gods for Annabeth Chase was the only thing Luke could think.

With much planning and a little bit of outside involvement (Luke swapped some of his chores with Clarisse’s to get her to agree), the plan was set in motion.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can make fun of the little kids singing Disney songs?” Clarisse lay on your bed as you cleaned your bunk area and you looked at her skeptically.

“Why tonight? We never go to the sing alongs.”

“Dunno,” She shrugged, “Something to do. Plus, summer’s almost over and soon we won’t get to spend any time together.” You grinned, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

“Aw,” You cooed, “I knew you liked me deep down.” Clarisse swatted your hand away but smiled nonetheless, and the two of you stayed huddled up on your bunk gossiping until dinner.

Swayed by Clarisse’s begging, the two of you ended up at the sing along, much too close to the front for your liking. You struggled through the karaoke songs, only staying to commentate to Clarisse. You’d heard one too many awful renditions of classic childhood pop songs when the amphitheatre went quiet, no one knowing who was meant to be leading the next song.

“You’re just too good to be true,” The voice rang out into the night, unaccompanied voice making you gasp immediately in recognition. This was your favourite song, but hardly anyone knew that. It was the song you used to dance to with your dad when you were a kid, before you even knew you were a demigod.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” People were murmuring now, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and who it belonged to — no one who’d sung before for sure.

“You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” You gasped again as you saw the figure emerge from the darkness. Luke Castellan was singing at the camp sing along. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as he continued to sing a cappella, coming into the light of the stage. He seemed to be searching for something though, eyes roving over the audience.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” His eyes locked with yours; he found what he was looking for. Before you could dwell on the incredibly cheesy act, music swelled to life, the Apollo musicians seemingly having learnt the piece beforehand. You wondered how much planning went into this. Your joy only increased as Luke began to dance; dorky, outdated moves that made you laugh out loud — a sound so unfamiliar that a few campers had to look back to check it was really you. You laughed and clapped along with everyone else, thoroughly enjoying Luke embarrassing himself in front of the whole camp.

The performance had to end at some point though, and you found yourself rising out of your seat to give a standing ovation, whooping and cheering along with everyone else. By chance you caught a glance of Clarisse’s face to see her already watching you, a satisfied look evident on her face. You were confused for a second before a memory struck you — a late night on the roof trading drunk secrets and stories where you told her about your childhood connection to Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. You were floored, and also kind of flattered. You knew it would have taken a lot for Luke to go to Clarisse for help — she was scary when she was pissed, and she was definitely pissed at Luke after the party.

You felt that little ball of light start to flicker in your chest again, and you were scared. But more than that you were excited. Despite everything else about you, you were a daughter of Aphrodite and a teenage girl, and the most romantic thing to ever happen at camp just happened to you. You guessed Luke had probably grovelled enough, and you would’ve told him that immediately if he hadn’t been swarmed by campers congratulating or laughing at him. Deciding you couldn’t put yourself in the middle of that crowd, you settled on telling him in the morning.

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br7ght · 4 months

Note

how about 5?

I feel like we should finally give them all what they want 😉

when the god of smut requests speaks she speaks... so here you go guys, have this teaser on us, @occasionallyaurora and I have been working really hard on this one :)

Captain's Night Out Lucy Bronze x Alexia Putellas

summary: Lucy has a burning request to ask of Alexia, what better opportunity than the annual captain's night out when they've all had a bit too much to drink.

warnings: none... yet

pairing: lucy bronze x alexia putellas

word count: 800 words

14/02/2024, save the date lesbians <3

It had been a wilder night than the five of them were expecting. The annual Captain’s Night Out had been well underway and to Lucy and Alexia’s disappointment it was seemingly reaching a plateau.

“No Mapi, come on one more drink.” Lucy pleaded, her words slurring slightly as her hand gripped around her glass. They had already lost Marta and Paredes to the alcohol, both heading home about half an hour ago despite the blonde and brunette begging for the night not to be over so soon. Little to her surprise, Mapi didn’t give in to her pleading, kissing their cheeks goodbye and stumbling away to get into the taxi that was waiting for her outside.

“And then there were two.” Lucy giggled into her drink, knowing that Alexia would be the last one standing with her, every time they went out together it was the same. They were laughing together in a cloud of tipsiness, fingers grazing against each other from across the table, nothing serious, just harmless touches driven by the alcohol in their systems. “How’s the relationship going?” Lucy questions, acting casual but her cheeks flushing pink at the question giving away her motivations.

“It’s actually the best thing I’ve ever done,” Alexia stated honestly, her chin resting in her hands, her tongue reaching around her straw and sucking up the last of her vodka lemonade. “I’ve never been happier, or more sexually satisfied.” There was a slight pause before the second reason, her grin stretching across the width of her face, but it was Lucy’s cheeks that were still glowing red.

“I mean, two hot women in your bed, what else can you expect?” The raven-haired woman giggled nervously, her fingers rubbing the ridges on her glass as she watched Alexia’s nonchalant reaction to all her questions. The blonde was an open book sober, so she basically qualified as a billboard when she’d had a few drinks.

“How’s Ona?” Alexia asked, winking at Lucy’s flushed cheeks. “You not feeling the same cariño?” Her head tilting to the side as she observed Lucy’s facial expressions, glancing at the way she was nervously tapping her hand against the table, her leg bouncing slightly, and Alexia could tell that she was working herself up to ask for something.

“She’s good, better than good, we’re doing really well actually, it’s like a breath of fresh air being with her.” Lucy waffled, her words tripping over each other. Alexia was grinning at the confident woman losing her words between her tongue. This was one of the only ways that Lucy could be made nervous. “She got a bit jealous though, of your girlfriend.” Lucy admits finally, a weight on her shoulders lifting slightly as she waited nervously for Alexia’s response, hoping it wasn’t a negative one.

“Which one?” Alexia laughed, but Lucy gulped, wondering if she’d overstepped the line, but the warming look she got from Alexia straight after reminded her that it was near impossible to cross boundaries with her.

“Well, I haven’t ever fucked Jenni, have I” Lucy gulps again, her lips pursed as she realised that she was really admitting this to her ex-lover’s new girlfriend. It was all needed if she was ever going to get to the question that had been burning in the back of her mind ever since Ona mentioned it.

“Oh, you and-” Alexia starts, her eyes widened but not with hatred, more a sense of curiosity at how Lucy was nodding before she could even say her girlfriend’s name. “I didn’t know that about you two.”

“Nobody does, it was kind of our secret but when Ona found out she wasn’t too pleased about it.” Lucy said, taking another sip of her drink in order to force her to keep talking, opening up to the blonde who was gazing at her over her glass, looking straight into her brain with those dark glossy eyes that could quite literally seduce anyone she dared to notice.

“Did you fix things or is it all still a bit rocky?” Alexia asked intensively, still not quite processing the information that she’d just found out. Her girlfriend used to have frequent casual sex with Lucy Bronze who was now one of her closest friends.

“No, we more than fixed things, Ona is beyond chill about it now, but something else came up afterwards.” Lucy started, her fingers fidgeting between her hands in front of her before Alexia grabbed her hands to stop her from acting so nervous, not used to seeing the brunette any ounce below confident. “Something I wanted to ask you about.” She finished, feeling at ease once their hands connected across the table.

“Ask ahead.” Alexia comforted, her eyes squinting slightly in anticipation of the words that were about to come out of her mouth. She watched as Lucy’s chest rose and fell a few times before she opened her lips to speak.

“Would you be open to having two extra people in your bed for a night?”

274 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 2 years

Text

nest

harry is y/n's best friend. he also happens to be an alpha. spending a week at his place has her brain doing weird things.

cw: a/b/o dynamics! while this has no smut in it, I still heavily encourage anyone not familiar with the trope to look it up before reading ahead!

wordcount: 10.5k+

—————

(Y/N) panted as she scaled Harry's driveway with her too-heavy weekender bag hanging over her shoulder. Did she know she was overpacked for only a week long stay? Sure, but she would rather be safe than sorry, so if that meant bringing an extra five pairs of panties and three more sets of clothing than she needed, that was only being safe as far as she was concerned. What she hadn't planned for, was scaling Harry's long driveway with her bag banging against her side and her phone charger spilling out of the top and her school backpack weighing down her other side. Parking in her usual spot by the curb with shady covering provided by the leafy tree in his yard sounded perfect, until she felt her shoulders aching with the weight of her bags as she peered up the driveway.

By now, she was sure a sheen of sweat had collected above her brow and Harry was going to kill her for exerting herself when she could have easily texted him for some help with her things. But, (Y/N) didn't want to call on him to carry her things, her was already doing too much for her.

He was already letting her crash at his place for a week—maybe more—, so there was no reason to make him carry her textbooks and a week's worth of clothing. She'd take a little bit of a scolding instead of pandering for more help.

Just as she climbed the porch steps, the front door swung open only to reveal the alpha of the house with a bunny-toothed grin on his features and fluffy curls framing his face.

"(Y/N), h—What are you doing?" As expected, the second Harry caught sight of the sweat coating her features and heard the wheeze of her lungs, his brows furrowed and he all but rushed to join her on the short staircase. "Why didn't y'tell me y'were here?" he reprimanded her as he reached for her duffle, "And y'parked so far away. (Y/N), y'should have told me I would have helped y'carry your things in."

"I know, I know," she said, relief flooding her system when circulation returned to her arm, "I didn't think the bag was going to be that heavy, though, I promise. And, you're already doing so much for me, it's not fair—"

"Don't go off about what's fair with me, again," he cut her off, apparently having already anticipated this conversation, "I offered to let y'stay with me, and you're not inconveniencing me in anyway, okay? The only thing that isn't fair is when y'don't let me take care of you like I promised I would."

(Y/N) sighed as he brought up his promise again. It wasn't a new topic, but still one that made her tummy flutter every time he brought it up.

Years ago, when they first became friends their first year of university, Harry had been around when she had gone through a particularly bruising breakup. The alpha was not who (Y/N) thought he was, and that much was only apparent after she had fallen in love with the facade he had presented. Harry had been the only one to pick up when she called sobbing in the middle of the night, needing to talk to anyone who would listen and reassure her that she hadn't just ended a relationship with the only person who would ever love her like that alpha had screamed at her.

That night in the dark of his student dorm, Harry promised her that he would always be there to protect and take care of her. No one would be able to tamper with her self-worth ever again, or make her feel like she was a burden or hard to love—platonically or otherwise. It had been a serious promise, one that he said in the deep grumble of his alpha tone and with his eyes matching hers as he said it.

But, now, he loved to use it as an excuse to get his way whenever she wouldn't let him do something silly like hold her duffle bag or drive her to her early morning class. While she always made a point to roll her eyes at him when he made such comments, it never failed to make her heart feel full at the reminder of his promise.

Harry was always the one alpha who never tried to change her or push himself on her just for the fact that she was an unmated omega. He was even the driving force behind her deciding to continue her schooling towards her master's degree after graduation. So, if he wanted to scold her a little for carrying her own textbooks or parking too far away from his front door, she'd let him. It let her know he cared.

"Sorry, dad," she sighed, a petulant tease carrying her voice, "I'll park closer next time."

"That's what I thought," he said, pushing her with a hand on the small of her back through his front door. "And, you'll let me know when you're here, so I don't have to listen for you."

"Whatever you say," she shook her head, laughter filling the foyer as he piled on his conditions that she knew he wouldn't do anything about if she didn't adhere to them.

"Good," he grumbled, locking the front door behind them before he continued ushering her up the stairs. "Got the guest room all set up for you if y'want to go that way."

Harry's house was (Y/N)'s second home after her apartment, so the layout was easy to maneuver even without his hand on her back guiding her. Still, that didn't mean she wanted him to stop.

As expected, Harry had the guestroom set up perfectly for her, just as he always did whenever she had to sleepover at his place. The quilt he'd had in his dorm when they met was folded across the bottom of the bed, the familiar holes and frayed edges brought a smile to her face as it covered a section of the fluffy white duvet he'd bought specifically for her. There was something especially intimate about him buying her something that could so easily become the perfect base for a nest, but she knew it was only a part of his alpha instincts to give an omega something so special even if they were only friends. The rest of the room still held the potted plant she gifted him at his housewarming, sitting right in the bay window as the vining leaves draped themselves over the sill. A humidifier was stationed in the corner of the room, just beside the walk-in closet, a detail she knew he had in his own room because then he could turn it on just before bed after grabbing his pj's or turn it off in the morning after he got ready for work. The bedside table had a scented candle left with its cap off, allowing the strong scent of him to be filtered through the lens of autumn leaves and vanilla whipped cream.

(Y/N) felt at home as she stepped over the threshold. Harry's hand on her back disappeared as he moved around her, settling her bag on her temporary bed with a bounce of the mattress.

"Everything look good?" he asked her over his shoulder as he began to fuss over the little plant in the window.

"Yeah, thank you. It's perfect." (Y/N) could hear the smile in her own tone, with Harry surely able to smell her happiness as it flooded the room.

Pride lifted Harry's shoulders as he gave her a lopsided smile over his shoulder, having rotated the plant just enough so the baby leaves that just sprouted had the most sunlight. "Good, that makes me happy," he told her, his voice a quiet croon.

It was moments like these especially that (Y/N) couldn't believe he didn't have an omega. She knew that if she had the chance and wasn't so worried about the friendship they had curated, she would be clinging to him at all times, scenting all over and pining for his mark on her neck. He was too good of an alpha and a caregiver to be on his own, she believed.

Settling on the edge of the mattress, Harry unzipped her bag with the intention of helping her unpack just like he always did when she stayed for a little longer than a couple of days. "Has your building told y'any more about what's going on?" he asked her, pulling out her rolls of outfits from the weekender.

"Not really," she shook her head, taking his offerings to the closet with the door open behind her, "I overhead one of my neighbours talking about bugs, though. Like, a lot of them. Enough that the foundation or structure, or whatever, of the building isn't doing great. Some people might have to get their walls knocked down, too."

"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, absently reaching for another set of clothes to pass off, "Jus' come live with me, love. I told you that landlord wasn't right when we did that walkthrough."

"I know, I know, H," she said, used to this conversation from the many times Harry tried to convince her to move in, "But, its close to campus and rent is low, that's all I'm looking for right now."

"What happens when your entire floor falls through because bugs have eaten through the entire structure, hm?" he pressed, raising a brow at her while he plugged in all of her chargers.

"I'm sure my rent will be even lower then."

"(Y/N), please," Harry tried again, not laughing at her attempt to joke, "This worries me. I don't like thinking y'live somewhere so unsafe that they're kicking you out for a week—if not more—because the building might fall apart. You know I wouldn't make y'pay rent, and I can drive y'to class every morning on m'way to work."

Turning towards him, abandoning the hanger she was layering with clothing, (Y/N) gave Harry the same look she did when they talked about this. "You know it's not that easy, H"

"But, aren't we close enoug—"

"You're not my alpha, Harry. I don't want to live with anyone that isn't mine like that."

Though she felt bad to cut him off, she knew he wasn't going to understand otherwise. Yes, they were close enough she told people he was her best friend, but he wasn't hers. He wasn't someone that scented her, kissed her, or marked her. He wasn't her alpha.

Something ticked in Harry's jaw as he matched her eyes, the intensity making (Y/N) want to instinctively curl in on herself. "Trust me, I know," he murmured, "I jus' worry about you, (Y/N). Please at least think about it this week."

"I can do that," she relented with a quiet nod, "I'm sorry I worry you, I don't mean to."

Rising from his spot on the bed, Harry stood to the full of his height with his arms open for her. "Don't need to be sorry, 's not your fault 'm a worrywart," he told her once she stepped into his hug, arms cradling her shoulders while he pressed his cheek to her hair, "Jus' think about it for me. Even if y'only spend time here until y'find another place to live if your bug building gets worse."

"I will," she promised with a sigh, stopping herself before she could tuck her nose into the curve of his neck no matter how badly her instincts were urging her to do so, "Thank you for always letting me stay here if I need it."

"I love it when you're here with me, (Y/N), you know that. Makes me happy when all I have to do to see you is go down the hall." Though no one else was in the room—or the house, even—Harry spoke with his voice low as if he were sharing a secret only for her to hear.

Scrunching her eyes closed, (Y/N) curled herself tighter against Harry's chest. All she wanted to do was cling to him and inhale all of him that she could, scent him so she could take that crisp warmth with her wherever she went. But, like she had just told him: he's not her alpha. If she dared to even graze her nose along his neck, it would be far too intimate an act for two people who claim to be nothing more than best friends, she knew that.

Harry ran his hand along the plane of her back, palm warm as he skimmed over her skin through the loose knit of her sweater. "'S gonna be alright, love. Don't worry about your place, okay?"

While that wasn't exactly what was making her tummy hurt, she wasn't going to correct him.

—————

(Y/N)'s absolute favorite thing about waking up at Harry's place had to be the fact she was completely enveloped in his scent from the second she opened her eyes. While everything was clean and washed before she came over, the detergent and softener smell couldn't even dream to cover up the smell of everything Harry that had soaked into the fabric. Bringing the sheet up to her nose, (Y/N) indulged herself in a deep inhale of crisp apples and burnt cinnamon, deep and warm and heady.

All alphas had their own scent, distinctly identifiable, but they all had that deep dominance in common. Nothing could completely cover it up the same way suppressants could conceal an omega or neutralizers could cover a beta. There would always be a little bit of something—a base note of dark wine, or peppery firewood—that seeped through even the strongest of concealments. And, (Y/N) loved that when it came to Harry. She knew he set up a scented candle for her every time because he didn't want to overwhelm her with the strength of his scent after going from her light omega surroundings, but she always made a point to cap it before she went to sleep on her first night. By the time she woke up, nothing could hinder the smell of him.

The only thing that could top waking up in his scent was getting to lie in it all morning—which, since it was a Saturday, she got to do.

She didn't know how long she soaked in the smell of him, in a half dream state as she dozed in and out of sleep with the help of his comforting scent, but by the time Harry knocked on her door, she still felt like she hadn't gotten enough of him.

"Yeah?" she called out to him, stretching under the sheets as she tried to pry her eyes open.

Harry carefully cracked the door open, peeking his head in with a soft smile on his face as soon as he saw her wrapped in her bedding with wild hairs framing her face. "Jus' wanted to see if y'were awake. I have some breakfast from earlier waiting for you in the microwave if y'were awake enough to come downstairs."

"What'd you make?" (Y/N) peeped as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, feet searching for her slippers.

"French toast and those hashbrowns y'like."

It was the same breakfast he always made at least once for her when she stayed over.

"And chocolate milk?"

"And apple juice, if y'wanted something different."

She hoped he could smell the way her heart perked up for him. He really knew her so well.

—————

"Are you sure its alright that I tagged along today?"

The lopsided grin that molded Harry's features grew as he looked down at her for a second as he steered the shopping cart. "(Y/N), jus' because y'ask me four different times doesn't mean you're going to get a different answer."

"I know," she sighed, rerouting herself when Harry made a quick turn into the bread aisle, "I just feel bad you're shopping for me since I'm only staying with you for a week."

Harry shrugged, reaching for a loaf of thick bread to be placed in his trolley. "I don't mind, jus' like I've already told you. And, it might be longer, remember? We need to, at least, get a couple of things for you to take to class."

"I'm going to pay you back for all of this, Harry," she cemented, following after him as moved an aisle down for all things pasta, "I know you're going to say no, but I am. This is more than just letting me stay with you for a little while. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you something for all of this."

"Just be happy and consider what we talked about the other day, okay? That's all I want from you—nothing else, alright?"

"But, Ha—"

"Do you like the five cheese marinara or the basil and garlic more?" Harry cut her off, holding up two opposing jars of spaghetti sauce.

Raising an unimpressed brow, (Y/N) looked to Harry's seemingly oblivious face between the two raised jars. "Harry."

Puckering his lips to the side, Harry turned the jars to get a look at the labels. "Yeah," he hummed, "We should try both. I haven't tried this brand yet, anyway, so I don't know which one is better for the gnocchi."

"Harry," she tried again, a giggle seeping into her words as she followed after his slow steps down the shelves of dried pasta, "Please."

"Nope," he popped, reaching to the highest shelf with ease as he grabbed for a package of whole-wheat linguine, "'M not listening."

"C'mon," she tried again, stepping in front of him so he couldn't get away too easily with the cart in tow. "It's not a big deal, as soon as I get paid I'll just—"

"No, you won't," he solidified, looking down at her with the full intensity of his green eyes, "Remember what I promised you?"

"I can't believe you're using that against me, right now, in the middle of the pasta aisle." (Y/N) playfully puffed out her bottom lip.

"What? Y'don't like being reminded that I like to take care of you where everyone can see you get all flustered? Is that it, (Y/N)?"

Maybe it was the way he didn't dare pull his gaze from hers or the deep tone of voice that rumbled through his chest, but (Y/N) felt her tummy tighten as she gazed up at him. Did she get flustered when he talked about the promise? If she did, she'd never noticed before. But, it seemed Harry did.

"I don't get flustered," she countered lamely, fluttering her lashes as she dropped her gaze, allowing him to win that game.

"Yes you do," he sung, a tease coating his voice as he ducked his head into her line of sight, "Every time I say something, I swear your eyes get all dreamy and y'won't look at me until your butterflies stop."

"I don't have butterflies."

Harry shook his head then, lopsided smile and a single dimple in his cheek. "Sure, y'don't, silly. And I don't smell them on you right now, either." With that, Harry straightened his posture and grabbed for the bar of the trolley. "Now, do y'want some of those little protein packs or fruit to take with y'between classes?"

(Y/N) watched as Harry nonchalantly started down the aisle, moving towards the wall of refrigerators while she couldn't find it in her to unlock her knees and follow after. The muscles of his back shifted under his top as he pushed the trolley, black sweats hanging low enough on his hips that if he moved just right, she was allowed a peek at the tan skin of his hip.

Something's changed. This wasn't the first time in the last couple of days since she'd started her stay that Harry had practically flirted with her. Sure, there had always been a little something to their interactions that solely came from the fact they were sexually compatible given their classes, but this was different. It was more than the friendly teasing that had been apart of their friendship since the beginning. He was doing more, pushing more, getting closer and speaking lower, a voice she wasn't familiar with.

It'd only been three days since she started sleeping over—longer than any of her previous weekend stays—and (Y/N) was beginning to worry about what else he was going to start picking up on if he was now noticing just how easily flustered and butterfly-filled he could make her.

"Are y'coming, love?" Harry called to her from the end of the aisle, his brows pinched as he beckoned to her.

Immediately, she perked up, not wanting to be left behind. "Yeah, sorry."

"'S alright, jus' stay close, yeah?" he murmured once she was close enough, corralling an arm around her back to tug her between his chest and the handlebar of the cart, "Saw some alpha looking for a little too long and getting a little too close to you."

"Really?" She really must have been oblivious if she didn't notice a whole other dominating presence creeping up on her.

"Mhm," Harry grumbled, his hands on either side of her flexing around the bar as he escorted them towards the snacks, "No reason for him to be getting so close, especially when you've got m'smell all over you."

(Y/N) was grateful for the fact he only had a view of her back when a small smile plucked at the edges of her mouth. If she allowed her mind to wander, she could argue he sounded... protective over her. Like he had claimed her.

"I'll stay right here, then," she murmured, "No more wandering."

A contented hum that verged on a soothed purr rumbled Harry's chest. "Thank you."

—————

(Y/N) jumped as the sound of Harry's laughter pulled her from her half-asleep state. Her eyelids fluttered open with a quiet gasp, only to see a different Julia Roberts rom-com gracing the television screen than the one she remembered playing the last time she had her eyes open. Maybe she had been a little more than half-asleep.

Making a point to sit up from the curling position she found herself in, (Y/N) shifted under the quilt that was taken from her temporary bedroom. With a short stretch, she folded her legs underneath her and pushed her back firmly against the cushions. Leaning against the back of the couch, she found Harry's arm tossed around her form, the warmth not having shown up on her radar in her sleepy daze.

Once he realized she was awake, (Y/N) saw from the corner of her eye as he gave her a fond look before ducking his head down. With his lips hovering by her ear, he spoke as if they really were at the cinema they were pretending his living room to be, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake y'up. I promise I was trying to be quiet."

"I wasn't asleep, its alright," she mumbled out, clearing her voice she in hopes of living up to her facade. Running a heavy hand through her hair with a clarifying tug at the roots, (Y/N) tried her best to suss out what was happening on the T.V. If she squinted enough with the sleep in her eyes, she was somewhat sure that Mystic Pizza was playing.

"Right, cause you knew y'were drooling on my shoulder for the last half hour, and you jus' thought it was too funny to stop," Harry countered, canting his head to the side with a nonchalant half shrug while the light from the television highlighted the side of his face.

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, (Y/N) felt her grogginess leach from her system, warm embarrassment replacing it.

"I didn't drool on you," she denied, her eyes drifting down to the shoulder of his shirt before flicking back to his shaded gaze, "Did I?"

A little too smug of a smile molded his features before he shook his head. "No, but now I know you were sleeping," he teased, his grin only widened when she saw her lips puff into a pout. "'S alright if y'were asleep, love. I can turn off the movie and we can go to bed, if y'want. It's getting late, anyway."

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head, knowing the long day Harry had and that he was taking this time to decompress. "No, no, it's okay. Let's finish this one, and then we'll see," she insisted, focusing her gaze forward, "What did I miss?"

Though she had her eyes trained forward, watching Julia Roberts' character find her love interest in a bar, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes lingering on her as he made no attempt to follow the direction of her gaze. Heat traced over her profile as if he were running his fingertips over the planes of her face. The warmth danced over the bridge of her nose and bounced across her Cupid's bow though she swore he lingered over the pillows of her lips. A beat passed before she peeked over at him, the intensity of his gaze confirmed when he didn't mind matching her eyes and didn't shy away when she caught him.

"What?" she peeped.

Something flashed in his eyes—either it was the light from the T.V. or something else, (Y/N) didn't know, but she saw it.

"Nothing," he murmured, voice low and purring, "C'mere."

Slipping his arm from around her waist, he pulled the quilt that was draped over their laps to sit on his other side in a bundle.

"Wait, wh—"

"Lay down, love," he told her, nodding his head towards his lap, "I'll bundle y'up as soon as you're comfortable."

A small smile tugged at (Y/N)'s lips when she realized what he was suggesting. They hadn't cuddled like this in a while, probably not since before her last relationship ended over a year ago.

Shuffling her way over the couch, (Y/N) laid herself out on the cushions with her legs scrunched to fill out the remaining two with her head landing in Harry's lap. The full of his thighs worked as her pillow, warm and comforting with her most favorite smell of all surrounding her, right from the source. Even with the muscles cording his arms and beefing his stature, Harry was gentle as he tucked the quilt around her form, keeping her warm and cuddled up.

"This better?" he asked her. The dark of the living room allowing only peeks and glances at his features once the scene on the television lit up enough to do so, but (Y/N) couldn't help but hope she really did see the fondness in his gaze and it wasn't just a trick of the light.

"Yeah, thank you," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy now that she was comfortable and well taken care of by an alpha.

"Good," he smiled at her, grazing his fingertip across her brow to pull a stray hair that threatened to peek in to her line of sight, "If y'fall asleep, 's alright. I'll take y'upstairs, okay? I jus' want y'to relax, (Y/N)."

The soothing rumble of his tone and the careful skim of his skin against hers was enough to have (Y/N) fluttering her eyes closed in contentment. "Okay, H," she responded dreamily.

Shifting to lay on her side, (Y/N) cuddled in with her hands under her chin while Harry played with her hair in soothing motions. Though she tried to keep track of the film for as long as she could, (Y/N) didn't stand a chance with the warmth of Harry's touch skating through her hair and the comfort of his scent wafting to her nose directly from the source. The audio of the movie became background noise that helped set the tone for the nonsensical dream that was beginning to shape up behind her eyelids.

Until Harry started purring, of course.

That became the center of her focus then. The rumbling deep tone of his purring comforted her farther than what just the smell of him and his soft touches could do. None of her previous alphas had ever shared something so intimate with her, knowing that purring like this could feel like music to an omega like her—especially seeing as how she was fostering feelings for Harry.

Maybe he didn't even realize he was doing it, or maybe it was the pending dream talking, but (Y/N) liked to think he wanted to share this with her.

—————

Harry rolled his neck after shifting his car into park in the garage. With his eyes closed, he let out a deep breath as he relaxed into the plush leather of his seats. This week has been excruciatingly long, and it was only Thursday.

And, it was because of (Y/N).

His workload was the same as always, maybe ticked up a tiny bit just because one of his team members was out for vacation, but nothing he couldn't handle. The only thing that plucked him off-kilter was his little houseguest.

Not to say she was unpleasant to live with—quite the opposite if his badgering for her to move in with him meant anything—, but he found himself struggling more than usual around her. Harry knew since the day they met that they were compatible. Call it instincts or the fact she was so obviously an omega that balanced out the alpha in him, but Harry swore in his gut, he knew that (Y/N) was going to be special to him.

But, that had been years ago, back when she was with another alpha and had confided in Harry as a best friend. Though he never really lost that sparkle he felt for her, it was something he was able to manage, especially as it seemed she didn't feel that same glimmering affection towards him outside of being a best friend.

These past days seemed to be putting that notion of management to the test, though.

Harry didn't know what it was, but something shifted this time around. Maybe it was him; he knew he was toeing into territory not yet explored between them with the way he flirted with her more obviously, and tried to squeeze a cuddle in any time he could manage it. Even with that, Harry couldn't forget the way he caught her snuggling up to his sheets when he woke her most mornings for breakfast. With the scented candle he brought up for her capped and stowed away, she had her nose tucked into the sheets that had been stored in his linen closet next to his usual sets he alternated through for his own bed. He knew, that even though they were clean and unused, his scent had to have stuck to them and wiggled its way between every fiber. She was looking for him when she smelled those sheets.

Even the other night during their impromptu movie night, (Y/N) had been the one initiating all of the snuggling until he had to corral her into settling down in his lap so she could get some actual sleep instead of knocking her head against his shoulder. When she looked up at him after he tucked the quilt around her form, he swore he saw something extra in her gaze; extra soft, extra fond, extra tender, extra trusting. He even purred for her.

Trust was as good as foreplay as far as Harry was concerned, the notion flooding his heart and calling to his more basic instincts, especially when the idea involved (Y/N). That was what had been plaguing him throughout his work days. No reprieve could even be offered when he came home, though—especially not on those days (Y/N) came home early enough from class to get dinner started with her scent trailing all around the house as she cleaned up and did bits of housework he would never expect from her.

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't ecstatic to be coming home to her. He just didn't know how much more his heart could take before it gave out and he had to offer it up to her for repairs.

Leaving the sanctity of his car behind, Harry came in through the garage. Though he hadn't expected (Y/N) to be back already, today being one of the days her classes ran longer than his workday, he was surprised to find the entire house soaked in her scent. More than usual.

With brows furrowed, he stalked through the house, stopping to take a peek out the front window, (Y/N)'s car wasn't there just as he figured. Nonetheless, he couldn't ignore the way his entire house reeked with the smell of her fruity perfume though this selection was decidedly more heady and dark than what he was used to scenting from her. There wasn't even a discernible trail of where she might have been, the mass of scent having permeated through the whole space and planted itself in every inch.

Though the more basic parts of him were responding especially well to the glaze of omega scent that touched over all of his things, Harry couldn't help but feel concerned. She wasn't supposed to be home if her lack of car was any kind of proof, so he couldn't see why her smell would be so deeply ingrained no matter where he touched.

Trailing up the staircase, with every step the perfume only grew stronger and stronger until he was directed to his bedroom. The door was left ajar only a small crack, but Harry didn't need that peek inside to know what he was going to find the second he pushed the door open.

(Y/N) sat on her hands and knees, back and bottom facing Harry as she rummaged through a pile of his clothing she had ransacked and splayed out across the floor. Every suitable piece she found was tossed over her shoulder in the direction of his bed, where her nest was beginning to form, full of every soft piece of linen and bedding in the house as well as everything that was directly Harry's that carried his scent to the max. She'd even plucked her own clothing off in favor of putting herself in a large shirt of his and a pair of slouching sweats he'd worn to bed the night before.

His bedroom was steeped in her scent. The typical notes of cherries and raspberries, creamy strawberries and alluring rose petals flitted to his nose before they were blended and aged into something heady and dark like the wine he had chilling downstairs. There wasn't a single surface left untouched with her smell.

Harry felt his chest tighten as he breathed in, lungs filling but unwilling to let even a single particle of her scent leave his body. With her frantically pulling a nest together in his bedroom and the extra heat that was added to her scent, Harry knew what was going on as well as his body did in the way it reacted to her.

"You're nesting," Harry said, voice low but firm as she stepped further into his bedroom.

With a gasp, (Y/N) sat up from where she was reaching for another of his knitted sweaters to add to the mess that was becoming his bed. She turned with a flutter of her hair, eyes wide as her mouth dropped into a small gape the second she took him in.

"Harry!" she breathed out, her features molding into a smile before she scrambled to her feet, "You're home!"

She crossed the room in frantic steps, all but tripping over herself and the length of her borrowed sweats before she launched herself into Harry's arms. Harry stood solidly as she bounded into him, catching her around her waist as she pressed herself flush against his form. The absolute contentment he could smell mixing in with her pleasured scent was only made more apparent in the way she all but melted into his hold, arms looping around his neck as he gazed up at him with hearts in her eyes.

"I am," he mumbled, trying his best to keep his mind clear despite the way her scent urged him to leave himself to his most basic instincts, "Didn't think y'would be, though."

"Oh," she sighed, blinking her eyes with a flutter of her lashes, "yeah, I left class early today."

He couldn't say he was surprised. "Yeah? What happened?"

(Y/N) didn't even seem to be aware of the way she squirmed in his arms, her chest pressing tightly to his as she lined her hips up perfectly with the full of his thigh. He stayed unmoving as she did so, forcing himself to keep a strong hold on his control until he had a better understanding of what was happening.

"I don't know, I don't remember," she bubbled off for him, a lazy smile on her features as she began to play with the baby curls on the nape of his neck, "I just wanted to be home with you." Just then, her face dropped, eyes rounding out with lips turning into a frown. "But then after my friend dropped me off—she said I wasn't allowed to drive myself because it wouldn't be safe, so I'll have to get my car tomorrow or something, I don't know. Anyway, she dropped me off and when I saw you weren't home, I got so sad, H. I forgot you worked."

As mind-muddling as this whole thing was, her scent clouding his head and directing his blood flow south, he couldn't help but smile some at her explanation. She forgot he had a job and wouldn't be home, even though he had said goodbye to her this morning before he left.

"Is that what got you all upset enough to start nesting in m'bedroom?" Harry pressed, pulsing his arms around her waist when the roll of her hips got a little too deliberate over the full of his thigh.

Her brow pinched in the middle as if she forgot that was what he had walked in on her doing, the mess on his bed having been thrown from her mind the second he walked through the door. "I guess so," she shrugged, "I knew I wanted to make a nest when I came back even if you were home, and I guess I wanted to make it in your room."

The idea of (Y/N) toddling home with the intention to nest, only to instinctively go straight to his room, had him seconds away from backing her into his bed and shucking those sweats from her legs once he got her settled in her nest.

"And y'put m'clothes on?" he murmured, ducking his head down until he felt the tip of her nose grazing his own.

Not a bit of shame or embarrassment he knew would normally have followed an admittance like this came as (Y/N) nodded her head with a lingering smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he told her, the effects of her scent having nothing to do with that, "Y'said y'don't remember why y'had to leave class? Or why your friend had to drive y'back?"

"I mean," she drawled, tilting her head with a giggle, her throat exposed to Harry's gaze. He swallowed as he traced his eyes over the delicate curve. "I think I do, but I'm scared to tell you."

The mention of her fear pulled Harry from his lost fantasy as he imagined sinking his teeth into the delicate skin that covered her pulse. She would look so pretty with a mark like that on her throat.

"Why? You know y'don't have to be scared to tell me things," he told her, his voice turning to a coo that he knew would draw more of her compliance to the surface. If this was what he thought it was, he needed to hear it directly from her.

"I know, I know," she sighed, matching her gaze to his with that same dreamy quality swirling in her irises, "But I don't want to make everything weird. I don't want you to stop holding me."

His fingertips gently denting the soft planes of her back, Harry held her tightly against his chest, matching her gaze with his own intensity. "I won't, love, see? Hugging y'even tighter, so now you've got to tell me."

Though she attempted to bite back her smile, the curve of her lips took over the softened features of her face. He couldn't help but match her expression with a quirk of his own lips, dimple denting his cheek as she raised herself to stand on her tip toes. Meeting her halfway, he ducked his head down and turned his ear to her.

"I think, I'm having my heat."

Her voice was a breathy whisper as her lips hovered by his ear, her breath fanning across his heated skin. Her words practically dripped over his skin like warm honey, sticky sweet and heavy as they clung to him.

"Yeah? You think so?" he pressed, voice deep enough to verge into alpha territory as his arms tightened around her.

"Mhm," she hummed, canting her head to the side as if she didn't know how tempting that sight would look to Harry in his state. She was lucky she wasn't being as squirmy as before, otherwise all the hard work she put into her nest would have been for nothing with how quickly he would have torn it apart with her on all fours for him. "I've only ever needed to nest this bad when I've been on my heat," she explained, her voice becoming the perfect counterpart to the deep gravel his was leaning into, "But, I've only ever had my heat when I've been with my last alphas, so I do—"

(Y/N) cut herself off as she jumped in his arms, mouth falling open at the low grumble that shook his chest. In a second her pupils were blown wide as he looked up at him, her breathing stuttering in conjunction with the racing of her heart that all but shook her veins. Harry watched as she tipped her head to the side, relaxing against as she bared her neck to him.

"Don't speak about them," he told her, voice low and deep, just one octave above dipping into his alpha voice and making it a command she couldn't refuse.

"Sorry," she whispered though she didn't look all that sorry given how turned on she was.

"Are you?"

The frantic nod she gave him as she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth was all the response he was given before she tightened her hold around him. He felt her body move against him as she strained on her tiptoes, her nose skimming his jawline as she spoke in a whisper, "Let me show you."

Just before she made a move to stuff her face in his neck, scent him just as intimately as he had imagined since he'd met her those years ago, Harry was reminded of the flash of her blown pupils. Her breathless voice rung in his ears and the intoxicating scent of her that not only muddled his head but no doubt had her spiraling since she made the choice to come home earlier in the day. He was quick to shift his hold on her, grabbing for the back of her neck before she could make the choice to scent him, a line they never crossed when they were both sound of mind.

(Y/N) whined when she was stopped, her brows pinching as her lips puffed into a pout. "Why did you do that?"

It took every bit of strength he had to combat his instincts, trying to tame himself against the heat of her body and the fact she was so willing to do anything for him, anything to make him happy. If she really was in her heat, the fact she had only every gone through them with whatever alpha she had been with at the time made it that much clearer to Harry that this wasn't something she would want with him normally. She wasn't of sound mind. She thought she wanted him because he was the closest alpha to her—the easiest one around to quell her needs.

While he wasn't in a much better headspace than her, he knew he had a better chance of saving them from the regret (for (Y/N) when she woke up and realized she'd let someone she only had platonic feelings for be so intimate with her) and heartbreak (for Harry when he saw her come to that realization) that would ensue the morning after. This wasn't a good idea despite how much his body wanted to convince him otherwise.

"We can't, (Y/N)," he told her, softening his tone as he massaged the back of her neck in hopes of soothing the rough way he had grabbed her in the first place.

"Why not?" she whined, her arms around his neck tightening, "Don't you want me? I thought you liked my nest, and I've been making dinner and cleaning up while you're at work. I thought I've been a good omega for you."

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry forced himself to refocus as he listened to her.

"Y'have been really good, (Y/N). Such a good omega, you know that," he attempted to soothe her, distracting her with his words as he unlaced his hands around her waist in favor of unwinding her arms from his neck. He watched as he perked up at the praise. "I'd be so lucky to have you, I know that. I've wanted y'for so long it hurts, but you don't want me like that."

(Y/N) was quick to shut him down with a shake of her head, her hands in his turning into a tight grip that urged him to stay. "That's not true! I do want you! I nested with all your clothes, Harry! I want you around me all the time, you're the only one that can make me feel better. I love you, isn't that enough?"

He swallowed as he tried not to let her pleading go to his head. He'd been waiting around for years to hear her say anything close to that ramble she just shared with him. But, the second he reminded himself that wasn't really her—that it wasn't really his shy, sweet best friend who looked to him for comfort and safety without the pressure of other alphas—he knew he couldn't let himself get caught up.

"Of course, that's enough, (Y/N). I jus' don't think rig—"

"Don't you love me, too?"

The back of Harry's jaw ticked as he processed her words, his gaze dropping to the ledge of her collarbones. He didn't have the strength to look into her eyes as she said things like that and keep his head on straight.

"I do, (Y/N), so much. For so long, too. But, I think you and I both know that you're not in the right state of mind right now for us to talk about that, right? Are you listening to me?" Maybe he was using his alpha-sway to his advantage, but he needed to know (Y/N) was listening to him, even if she wasn't quite understanding or agreeing for the time being.

"But—"

"No, jus' need y'to listen to me right now—that's how you'll be a good omega for me," he explained, tilting his head as he waited for her to mirror him to know she was in tune to what he was saying. "I think your heat is telling you that y'need me, but I don't think that's true. And I wouldn't want to do anything to my best friend that might upset her, even if she thinks its what she wants. Do I?"

The short shake of her head he earned was enough to have a lopsided smile curling his lips.

"You won't upset me, though," she peeped back, eyes shining, "I want you so bad because I love you, Harry."

Though the sentiment she shared was enough to have his already hammering heart skip a beat, he needed to level himself out before he only did something that would upset himself in the morning.

"I know," he told her, thought he wasn't so sure of that, "How about y'sleep in m'room tonight, and we'll see how y'feel in the morning if anything's changed. Do whatever y'need to do to make yourself happy, alright? I'll be downstairs." On instinct, he wanted to tack on that she could could grab him if she needed him, but that wasn't the kind of invitation she needed to hear at the moment. "I want to help you, love, I really do. But, I can't."

Harry swore his heart broke as he watched her face fall, tears tingling on the waterline of her eyes as he sat her down on the edge of his bed. The mess of his clothes and fluffy linens shifted as the mattress sunk under her weight, but she didn't seem to pay her little project any mind with the way her eyes were glued to him.

"I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

Harry waited for any kind of response until (Y/N) only gave him a small nod.

He was able to make it out, door shut behind him just before he heard the beginning of her breathless crying.

—————

Waking up in the morning, Harry felt more exhausted than he's sure he would have if he had just stayed upstairs with (Y/N).

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up from where he made an impromptu bed on the couch with the single sheet (Y/N) had left in the closet during her effort to make her elaborate nest. He cringed as he rolled his neck; the throw pillow he had stuffed under his head put a crick in the muscles during the three hours he was able to sleep.

It wasn't (Y/N)'s fault that he wasn't able to shut his mind off or stop listening to everything happening only a floor above him until he finally passed out at three a.m.. She had whined for him for an hour, the cries muffled through the floor separating them, but he knew she was calling for him with every puffed sob. Guilt plagued his every thought as he listened, willing himself to stay just where he was at on the living room couch, no matter how much the alpha in him urged him to soothe his favorite little omega and give her anything she wanted. After she calmed down from that, he listened to the way she darted through his room, her feet shuffling over the floor as she assumedly perfected her nest or whatever she needed to do to fulfill herself without an alpha at her disposal. He tried hard not to think about what the creaking of his mattress could mean the later the night went on. It was only when she seemed to find her own reprieve, quieting for a bit of time, that Harry was able to lull himself to sleep.

Now, at six a.m., his body apparently deciding he didn't need anymore sleep though his brain begged to differ, he figured he might as well check in on (Y/N). If he thought he had a bad night, he could only imagine how the last handful of hours had been for her. He didn't know how much of their conversation the night before was something that would still hurt her in the light of day, but he hoped anything he said that would still upset her sound mind could be soothed with a plate of his cinnamon French toast and that special raspberry honey he found at the farmer's market that she loved.

Stretching out his limbs, Harry caught his bearings. Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, his bare feet touching the hardwood sent an orienting chill up his body. Not only was his neck and back going to hurt for the next three days at least, he'd also managed to sleep in his work clothes, keeping him from getting comfortable in his skin. The best part, he was going to have to shower and change right into another set just like it.

Standing from the couch, he made slow work of folding up the sheet and placing it at the foot of the couch, to be put away when he had a moment. It wasn't until he started towards the bedroom upstairs that he realized there was noise coming from the kitchen, silence filling the upstairs. A pinch pulled at his brows as he slowly woke fully.

While there was evidence of (Y/N)'s perfume everywhere in his house still, the concentration had dropped considerably. The sweetened top notes that he always associated with her won out against the dark merlot-heavy essence that mixed in the night before. Everything was decidedly less frantic throughout the house, less muddled and more in order, even if that was just because the haze of her scent was no longer clouding his judgment.

"(Y/N)?" he called out as he ventured towards the kitchen.

"I'm in here," she answered, her voice decidedly quieter than what he was hollering through the house. She was embarrassed, that much he could tell already, her scent growing demure as if she were trying to shrink herself from the inside out.

Stepping into the kitchen, he found her now dressed in her own pajamas, damp hair pulled up from her neck into a twist as she stood in front of the stove. The entire kitchen had been wiped down from the midnight snack he made for himself after (Y/N) had settled some in the night, leaving only the supplies she'd used while making breakfast on the counter.

"Morning," he mumbled, finding a post at the kitchen island to lean into with his elbows on the surface.

"Morning," she chirped back, trying to hide the demure rose he could smell in her scent. "I'm just finishing up the hashbrowns, but I already made omelettes and everything. It should be ready in a second."

Typically, heats could last somewhere from three days to a full seven depending on the omegas needs and whether or not an alpha was there to fulfill them. Even in the most mild of cases—which hers was not if any of the frantic bubbling and devastated pleas for him to stay were anything to go by—(Y/N) shouldn't be up and caring for him so early in the morning. She even had time to shower and wash her hair, something Harry knew could take her close to an hour depending on how long she felt like luxuriating under the water.

"How are y'feeling?" he tested, watching her for reactions despite the way she had her back to him.

With spatula in hand, she scooped out the shreds of potatoes and doled out sections to each plate. She shrugged as she did so, though Harry could see the set of her spine was anything but nonchalant.

"It was—um—it was a false heat," she murmured, "So, I was able to sleep it off after I calmed down."

"Oh," he sounded, nodding his head. That wasn't too surprising; it's happened before to omegas. If they spend enough time around an alpha, someone they trust but might not be intimate with, it can push them into a false heat with their body running through the adrenaline and the need for a companion, only for the effects to wear off in twenty-four hours.

"Yeah," she affirmed, turning to him with their plates of breakfast in hand. Silence settled over them as she rounded the island and picked a stool near where Harry was leaning, his plate being placed just at his side. Taking the invitation to sit, Harry waited as he watched her, noting the way she seemed tightly wound and unable to look at him for longer than a second before her eyes were focusing on something else.

"Y'feel alright now, though?" he gently prodded. Something was wrong and she wasn't sharing it with him.

"Yeah, just tired," she simplified, nodding her head before she poked at her omelette with her fork.

"Gonna stay home today, then?" he asked, cutting off a bite of the hashbrowns with the side of his fork.

"Kind of have to since I don't have my car," she breathed out, attempting to make herself laugh in spite of the obvious discomfort surrounding her.

"Right," he smiled, the curl nothing more than a facade that he wanted so badly to ease (Y/N).

Every word that came out of her mouth was a chirp, nothing more. No explanation, as if to avoid any kind of conversation with him. This wasn't at all how he saw the morning after, especially not after he tried so hard to keep things from getting messy between them.

"Harry?" she asked after a beat, looking to him though her eyes were stationed on the countertop under his hand. After Harry hummed an acknowledgment, she paused as she took in a deep breath, flitting her eyes to his where he found a sheen covering them. "I'm so sorry," she peeped.

In an instant he was off his stool with open arms, moving to collect her and soothe her, "Oh, (Y/N)."

"No, no," she shook her head, her fork clattering to her plate as she waved her hands in front of her. Harry stopped in his tracks, wanting so badly to soothe her but knowing that she wasn't going to let him. "What I did last night wasn't right, and it wasn't fair. I tried to force myself on you after you said no so many times, and then kicked you out of your room all because I couldn't calm down. It's not f-fair"—now the sniffling began with tears running over her waterline—"that I went th-through all of your stuff without asking, all because I wanted to ne-nest. I'm so, so, so sorry. I can't be-believe I did all that to you and you were still so nice to me."

By then, she couldn't contain the sobs that puffed her chest and stunted her lungs. Harry couldn't hold himself back as he saw her hang her head in her hands, palms to her eyes as she cried her heart out in the middle of his kitchen. As carefully as he could manage, he wrapped her in his arms, giving a moment's time for her to push him away if she wanted her space, but it was her that snuggled deeper against his chest once the warmth was offered.

"'S alright, (Y/N), really," he crooned to her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before smushing his cheek in the same spot, "I know that wasn't you, okay? You're such a sweet girl, I knew y'weren't being yourself as soon as y'started talking to me like that. I don't blame you, okay? Heats and ruts can make us do crazy things, especially when we aren't prepared." A smile quirked his lips when he felt her nod her head against his chest, tears smattering his shirt as she clutched the fabric in her fists. "And I offered to sleep on the couch, remember? I knew y'needed your space and I didn't mind that y'needed m'things or m'bed to feel comfortable through it all. Besides, it was a wonderful little nest y'made, no reason for me to complain."

A hiccuping laugh was muffled against his chest as she nuzzled her nose into his top. "Th-Thank you."

"I wish I could have taken care of you, so y'didn't wake up feeling like this. I was so worried, I jus' didn't know how to help you, (Y/N). It scared me," he murmured to her, the words sinking into the strands of her hair.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know, sweet girl, I know. Not your fault at all, remember?"

A beat passed as she melted into his arms, the scent of her curling and flourishing the more she let herself relax after the morning she'd had. With her face still tucked against his chest, the tip of her nose skimming his skin through his top, she whispered, "Can I ask you something?"

"Course, sweet girl." He liked the way her scent peaked in contentment, roses blooming and strawberries flowering anytime he dubbed her his sweet girl.

"Last night, I know I was kind of out of it, but I remember you telling me you loved me," she started, "It didn't feel like when you usually tell me, though. I-I think you told me you've loved me for a long time... What did you mean when you said that?"

Now it was Harry's turn to go dry-mouthed as he fought to formulate an answer. He had almost been hoping she wouldn't remember something like that.

He must have floundered for a second too long when (Y/N) pulled away from his chest, looking up to him with glossy, red-rimmed eyes before she tried to backtrack. "If I'm totally wrong, that's fine, I'm sorry I brought it up. I don—"

"You weren't," he cut her off in a rush, the words falling from his mouth before he could control them, "You weren't wrong."

Harry watched as her eyes widened with a glimmer sparking through her irises. The smallest curve plucked at the corner of her lips just as her scent went even sweeter—a sign of sticky, sweet joy dribbling into her system.

"I'm not?"

Taking in a deep breath full of her fruited scent, Harry shook his head. "No, I did say that," he started, shifting his hold on her to land with his hands on her waist, "And I meant it differently than when we usually say it. I meant it."

The hands she had bundled in his top tightened, the fabric hers now with how hard she gripped it. "You meant it like—like—"

"Like 'm in love with you."

The way she perked up in his arms with a quiet gasp had all of Harry's worry draining from his system. She looped her arms around his neck, mimicking the position he found himself with her the night before but with much more clarity and less squirming. "Are you being serious, Harry?" she bubbled off, bouncing in her spot with her eyes bright and smile big.

Seeing her get so excited made his heart race. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because, you're—I—," (Y/N) couldn't contain herself as she pulled herself to his chest with a bubbly squeal, "You like me!"

"I do," he cemented with a breathy laugh, ducking his head down until the tip of his nose was skimming hers, "Can I take it that y'like me back?"

She nodded her head, hair fluttering around her face that had escaped from her clip, "So, so, so much!"

"Yeah?" he murmured, voice low and cooing, "Enough to let me kiss you?"

All it took was the bubbling nod of her head, nose nudging his in the process, before Harry stamped his lips against hers. It was clumsy with the way she struggled to keep from smiling, stop from squirming in her excitement, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. She was his sweet girl, through and through.

"Will you stay home with me today?" (Y/N) peeped in between a slew of sweet pecks he dotted over her mouth, sipping on her taste, "I-I don't want you to leave when we just figured all this out, H."

"Give me one more kiss, then I need to make a phone call and tell someone 'm sick." The way (Y/N) smiled into their one last kiss had him running through what kind of faux-illness he could use to buy him a long weekend with her.

It was only made that much better when he heard her giggling laughter as he left the kitchen in search for his phone. Her scent bloomed around the house, imprinting her deep enough he hoped she'd never leave.

—————

this is def a little bit different for me ngl besties! I've never branched out into this kind of fic before so I really hope everyone enjoys! thank you all sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!!

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odinsblog · 2 months

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Many years ago, the Jewish U.S. scholar Norman Finkelstein wrote a best seller that caused uproar among a group he exposed as the “Holocaust Industry”: people who invariably had not been direct victims of the Holocaust, but nonetheless chose to exploit and profit from Jewish suffering.

Though treated as leaders of the Jewish community, they were not primarily interested in helping survivors of the Holocaust, or in stopping another Holocaust – the two things one might have assumed would be the highest priorities for anyone making the Holocaust central to their life. In fact, hardly any of the many millions the Holocaust Industry demanded from countries like Germany in reparations ever made it to Holocaust survivors, as Finkelstein documented in his book.

Instead, this small group instrumentalised the Holocaust for their own benefit: to gain money and influence by embedding themselves in an industry they had created. They became untouchables, beyond criticism because they were associated with an industry that they had made as sacred as the Holocaust itself.

A follow-up book called the Antisemitism Industry, an investigation into much the same group of people, is now overdue. These ghouls don’t care about antisemitism – in fact, they rub shoulders with the West’s most prominent antisemites, from Donald Trump to Viktor Orban.

Rather, they care about Israel – and the weaponisation of antisemitism to protect their emotional and financial investment. They profit from Israel’s central place in US political, diplomatic and military life:

• as a giant real-estate laundering exercise, based on the theft of native Palestinian land;

• as a laboratory for the production of new weapons and surveillance systems tested on Palestinians;

• as a heavily militarised colonial state, a spearpoint for the West, useful in destabilising and disrupting any threat of a unifying Arab nationalism in the oil-rich Middle East;

• and as the frontier state for eroding legal and ethical principles developed after the Second World War to stop a repeat of those atrocities.

Anyone who challenges the Antisemitism Industry’s – and therefore Israel’s – stranglehold on Jewish representation in public life is hounded as an antisemite or self-hating Jew, as is currently happening most prominently to Jewish film-maker Jonathan Glazer. He is the Oscar-winning director of The Zone of Interest, about the family of a Nazi commandant of Auschwitz who lived blind to the horrors unfolding just out of view, beyond their walled garden.

I wrote an earlier piece about the manufactured furore provoked by Glazer’s comments at the Oscars. In his acceptance speech, he denounced the hijacking of Jewishness and the Holocaust that has sustained Israel’s occupation over many decades and generated constant new victims, including the latest: those who suffered at the hands of Hamas when it attacked on October 7, and the many, many tens of thousand of Palestinians killed, maimed and orphaned by Israel over the past five months.

—Jonathan Cook, the antisemitism industry doesn’t speak for Jews, it speaks for western elites

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darkwolf989 · 2 months

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Outside the office Part Two

Hi All! It seems my first post has garnered some interest- I am so excited! Here is part two- I hope y'all enjoy!

After that second night, I began to settle into their routine. Breakfast in the morning- usually cooked by either Valentino or Vox. A morning workout using the gym in Velvette’s studio. Lunch was always chosen by Velvette- options were varied, but made and served by their housekeeping crew both in their work spaces and in our kitchen.

I spent my afternoons either reading every book I could find, trying to answer my own questions about hell. When I wasn’t reading, I bounced between Velvette and Vox’s studios- performing any tasks they happened to have available. I wanted to learn about hell and its inner workings- what better way to do so than spending time in several of the most important offices?

More often than not, I went from lunch to floor number five. Velvette would spend hours talking about her designs and was happy to have a sounding board to bounce ideas off of. Most of the time she would stick me on the stage and try on different outfits. She claimed blonde hair and blue eyes were a money maker- and then quickly changed the subject when she saw how uncomfortable I was.

Every night we had dinner out in public, followed by a night out at any one of Valentino’s clubs. It was more typical that all three of us went out, but occasional Velvette or Vox needed to bow out for a work event. I, however, was obligated to be out. It was safest, Vox told me, for me to be in close proximity to one of them at all times. So no, staying home was not an option.

Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights were the exceptions to the routine. Valentino and Vox took turns cooking breakfast and dinner, though on occasion they agreed to order out. I offered to help only once and they both shooed me away.

My first Wednesday in hell I found out that the movie night Vox mentioned was not, in fact, optional.

I was settled in bed, propped up as I turned the page to start a new book when the blare of the surround sound stereo system shattered the silence of my bedroom. I jolted from my book, annoyance and frustration washing over me. What in all of hell's creation was going on?

I ventured down the hall and found myself staring at a giant television screen that most certainly was not there when we had dinner two hours ago.

“Hey! Come join us, it's movie night.” Vox waved me over. “Sit next to Val. Best seat in the house.”

“Glad you crawled out of your bedroom babe. Wine?” Valentino offered me a glass.

Although it had unsettled me at first, I had come to realize over the past few days that nicknames from Valentino were simply par for the course. I accepted the cup and sat down next to him. On the couch across from me, Vox had Velvette nestled in his arms, half under a blanket. She looked more comfortable and relaxed than I had seen her since my arrival.

“Blanket?” Valentino asked.

“Sure.”

He tugged one off the back of the couch and tossed it over us. I propped a pillow between the two of us and settled in as best I could as the screen turned a bright blue.

“What exactly are we watching?” I asked.

“A Night in the Woods with Angels.” Vox replied, giving Velvette a squeeze. “The scariest of all the horror movies.”

“Angels are not scary!’ I protested.

Valentino reached across the pillows and gently swatted my arm, “Shush. It’s starting. Popcorn?”

I took a handful from the bowl and watched as the scene unfolded. Horror was an understatement-the idea of depicting angels as evil creatures was laughable at best. That being said, more than once, I found myself jumping back until the pillow was on the floor and I was practically sitting on Valentino.

“It’s just a movie princessa.” he said softly, his voice almost comforting. “It isn’t real.”

“I know it's not real.” I said defensively. “Angel’s don’t act like that.”

The screen roared and I jumped again. He gave me a sympathetic look and wrapped his arms around me. The sense of security that I felt my first two nights in hell washed over me. Against my better judgment, and without alcohol as an excuse, I settled against him and pulled the blanket over the two of us. The rest of the movie was spent pressed against him as I watched the teenage demons make poor decisions that eventually led to their demise.

The lights around us grew brighter as soon as the movie ended. Vox stood up, Velvette passed out asleep in his arms. Wordlessly, he carried her off towards her room.

I pushed the blankets off, grateful for there to be light. My heart still pounded in my chest from the final scene, and as soon as I stepped away from Valentino, the sense of unsettledness washed over me again.

“That was fun princessa. We should do that again.” Valentino said lightly as he stood up and stretched.

“Are there horror movies every week?” I asked, trying to shake myself back into reality. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders.

“No no, that was Velevtte’s choice. She wanted something to fall asleep to.”

I stared at him. Fall asleep to? Did demons actually find this carnage…relaxing?

He burst out in laughter. “I’m joking, Princessa. She falls asleep during every movie.” He turned away, amusement on his face. “Goodnight mi amor.”

“Goodnight Valentino.” I watched him make his way down the hallway, and heard his bedroom door close in the distance.

Vox hadn’t remerged from Velvette’s room- at least not that I saw. I got up from the couch a few moments later and turned off the lights before heading to bed myself. Curled up in my bed with the nightstand lamp on, I wondered if angels were to demons what demons were to angels- evil, chaotic and merciless.

#valentino x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin fluff #valentino x you #valentino x wife #valentino #the vees #the vees x reader

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thebellearchives · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : when Solomon finds out about your secret he can’t help but treat you a little bit differently

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : fem!mc, fluff, Asmo speaks about smelling different types of attraction

‧₊˚ a / n : after writing this i wasn’t sure if it was good enough to post it here, but y’all can decide after reading it i guess ):

Solomon was barely paying attention to his friend rambling and rambling as background noise. His grey eyes focused intently on the small vial filled with blue liquid hanging from his fingertips, shaking it just slightly. Just like the white haired sorcerer was not paying attention to the gossip of his friend, Asmodeus was also oblivious to the fact that he was not being heard. Or to the fact that the sorcerer had told him not to come over to his room because he was busy working. But he just had to get all that gossip out of his system!

“… because he doesn’t smell like strawberry cream sweetness anymore! He smells like painful alcohol-like sweetness! Kind of like what Mc smells like when she’s around you.”

Suddenly the vial Solomon had in his hand crashed on to the floor. The demon let out a small scream and lifted his legs up to his seat.

“What was that?! Is it harmful? Can I breathe?!”

“Calm down” the sorcerer sighed “it’s harmless. What was that about Mc smelling different around me?”

Asmo raised an eyebrow, annoyed, as he watched his friend cleaning the small mess he’d made.

“Yeah, you know, I told you she smells like this strong annoying sweet smell people get when they go from having a nice scented crush to a hopeless romantic crush”

Solomon stared at Asmo with his eyes wide open.

“Why are you acting like you’ve told me Mc has a crush on me before?”

Mc had a crush on him? Like… Mc? THAT MC? His gifted pretty apprentice? The one everyone loved to death and the one he was sure he’d never have a chance with?!

“Because I did! I told you like a month ago! Do you not pay attention to me?!”

“When exactly was this?”

“I was sitting RIGHT here were I am right now, you were RIGHT THERE where you are right now, and you were also playing with this exact same silly chemistry set toy.”

“It’s not a toy, Asmo” he sighed.

“Whatever, I told you. And then I told you about that incubus I met at Red Nook Street. Do you remember that?”

Solomon was dumbfounded. He had just found out about Mc having a crush on him and there were A LOT of feelings mixing up inside him. What should he do? Should he say anything? So many thoughts, so may questions. He kept his composure though.

“… no” he absently replied.

“Sol have you been paying any attention at all to me?!”

“I do remember that I told you that day not to come over because I was busy working” he raised an eyebrow, Asmo stayed still “just like I did today”

“…you did?”

“Yes, I did. Have you been paying any attention at all to me?”

Asmo stared at his friend for like two seconds, before finally bursting out in laughter.

-0-0-•-0-0-

You tapped your nails on the desk and anxiously shook your leg up and down under it. Eyes wandered back to the clock once again. Five minutes to 10 am. It was the second lesson of the day, History of the Devildom, and one of the 4 lessons of the week you shared desk with Solomon. Not like you had much time to hang out with him since the brothers monopolized your time as much as they could (wether they did it on purpose or not), but ever since you became Solomon’s apprentice you had built up some courage to ask him to sit with you in the only classes you shared. So it was… 4 classes and Friday afternoons for sorcery class. You glanced at the clock once more.

“Oi, Mc!”

“Huh?” you shook your head to try and come back down to earth, focusing on the tanned white haired demon next to you “oh, sorry Mammon, what were you saying?”

“I was telling ya ‘bout this new Casino they’re opening tomorrow, wanna come?” he flashed a fanged grin.

“I thought you didn’t have any money?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Bah, I always have money for ya!”

You smiled.

“That’s nice Mammon, but you know my fridays are taken.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Come on, be a little less of a nice student for a day.”

“Rude, I’ve skipped classes for you a couple times despite the ruthless scoldings from Lucifer” you frowned, remembering how angry Lucifer was when he found out it was deadly for humans to stay upside down for too long and he had to look for another punishment.

“Then what’s the difference of skipping friday lessons with the shady dude?”

“Mc loves having lessons with me, don’t you Mc?” out of nowhere, the pale pretty sorcerer appeared behind Mammon “that’s my seat Mammon.”

“Sol! You’re here” you beamed, heart beating faster almost immediately “of course I do.”

“Ya sure” Mammon pulled a face and rolled his eyes again before standing and going back to his seat behind yours.

“I’m glad” Solomon smiled.

You opened your mouth in an attempt of starting a conversation with your desk mate, but as soon as you tried the teacher stood up and started the lesson. Solomon had sat down closer than he usually would, and it was nerve wracking. The teacher spoke like he did every day, but this time you were just not able to keep up. Your mind was too busy being over aware of Solomon’s proximity, and your eyes were constantly going back to him. Maybe it was because you were used to looking at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, but you did notice he seemed a little bit nervous. Suddenly his grey eyes darted towards yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you quickly looked away, but after a second you went searching for him again “are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I just…” he stretched his arms with a sigh “didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He placed his left arm over the back of your seat and around your shoulders. Blood rushed to tint your cheeks a soft cherry color. You cleared your throat before replying.

“Oh” he seemed to be studying your face in amusement, eyes wide and sporting a cheeky smile “w-were you working on a new project or something?”

He giggled.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Something like that? You stared at the teacher as he kept talking about… stuff. Maybe you could ask Satan for his notes later?

What could’ve Solomon stayed up doing? Working on a new spell? A new memory container glass to replace the broken one? Some random artifact that makes you react in a weird way?

“Maybe pay attention to class instead of trying to guess what kept me up?” he caught a strand of your hair and hid it behind your ear.

Blushing once again, you blinked twice in surprise.

“H-How did you…?”

“I suddenly feel like I’m able to read you better than before” he chuckled, you heard Mammon groaning behind you. With a shy smile and fidgeting with the cuff of your uniform, you pretended to pay attention again. You didn’t know what Solomon was up to, that was usual, but if one thing was for sure it was that you kinda liked it.

#; fluffy belle #obey me #obey me swd #obey me x reader #solomon obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x fem reader #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #solomon x you #solomon x y/n #obey me x y/n #obey me shall we date

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sstan-hoe · 2 years

Text

𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂, 𝑨𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏!

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔��𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — pornstar!lloyd hansen x fem!pornstar!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You’re new in the industry and to the surprise of your boss and yourself you climbed the ranks in only a few months. Now you can act with the big stars and the first one is a complete asshole

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, minors dni., unprotected sex (well reader is on pill), gagging, choking, oral (f&m receiving) p in v, rough sex, degrading, slight dumbification.

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — let's start vanilla on Lloyd here! @georgiapeach30513, like, reblog and comment! yeah I started a porn production and they have plots!!! I know, I know, something like this wow! But I want you to feel with them and I don't mean you masturbating. divider by @firefly-graphics

Being a porn star wasn’t your first choice of career, but the student loans had to be paid somehow. Your friend had set you up with the CEO of Barbers production who she knew as her boss.

It took her some convincing, she told you all about the perks; how it payed good, your safety and consent was first priority. For research purposes you googled some of the actors and all of them looked like they were made by gods.

You had known her since your first year at college and that was five years ago.

Not once had she mentioned anything about her job besides how busy, stressful, or free her schedule was. To be honest you always thought she was just jobless and lived on her parents money, but she was too proud to say it.

She gave you a date for an interview as soon as you told her you were ready, leaving you to wonder how long she had set it up.

When you met with the CEO Andy Barber, he gave you a list of kinks, a contract that also stated they took care of the health meaning his firm would pay for any costs. The list with kinks was for you to decide all the no go’s, what you were comfortable with and if wanted to add things.

After all was done, he showed you all his actors and with whom you start and their preferences. It was only a few, some you had already seen on your research like Ransom Drysdale or Air Levinson.

Out of curiosity you asked Andy if he was an actor too which earned you a heartfelt laugh. He answered with yes, but said he stopped three to four years ago.

With the contract signed and the first date set you were sent home.

All this was six months ago and today was your first time shooting with one of Barbers most popular stars; Lloyd Hansen.

You had heard a lot about him and saw him at a Christmas party once. Lloyd was a pure asshole, always made side remarks, treated people like crap and thought he was better than everyone.

However, he shared the top with Ari Levinson and Steve Kemp. Add to that, that he didn’t get along with anyone but Nick Fowler and Andy though that might only be because he’s the boss. About the others he had his opinions.

Now here you were on your way to the set in your pink bathing robe. Your thoughts are running wild, a part of you was excited about doing this but the other part not so much.

“Hey there! I’m your director Carter Baizen and I know you’re familiar with the procedure but I gotta do it. So, if you are uncomfortable in any way then we use the traffic light system. For green and yellow you can just whisper it with Lloyd, should he not hear it and the say it loud. For red say it out loud. Got it?”

“Got it.” You nodded. Consent is the most important part at Barbers Production, and everyone had to respect that.

You walked over to the scene, it was in a nice living room with a bedroom next to it and a build in kitchen. The storyline was about a stepfather fucking his stepdaughter which to be honest was gross but then yet again it was your job, and it wasn’t real.

A second later Lloyd walked in wearing a white bathing robe and a smug smirk on his lips.

“Lloyd my guy! You ready? Now as you know we use the traffic light system. Green and yellow you can whisper to one another unless the other doesn’t hear then loud, red of course always loud. Also, as you it’s her first time with you I want you to do little check-ups in between. Got it?” Carter instructed Lloyd who gave him a ‘got it’.

“Well hello sunshine. Ready to have the best sex in your life?” He asked cocking his eyebrow and the smirk still sitting on his lips. “Oh, I didn’t know I was shooting with Ari,” you responded knowing Lloyd always tried to be better than Ari.

Though this rival thing was going on since Lloyd and Ari started here at the production.

He became popular in the bdsm scene – you weren’t going to deep into this today – which gave him a massive advantage.

Lloyd’s expression changed into a glare, “mouthy little thing,” he muttered under his breath. “One remark makes me mouthy? What you’re not used to someone not crawling up your ass…” “Well certainly not from woman however mostly it me crawling up their asses.”

The smirk was back on his face and your turned into a disgusted expression. “When you get paid enough you do even the most disgusting things,” you replied lifting your chin.

“You forget here sunshine that if they don’t want to, they don’t have too…”

Carter watched the two of you bickering and one thing was for sure, you two had tension, chemistry which wasn’t the most important thing in the industry but definitely a plus. He had to admit that pairing the two of you was a fifty-fifty chance. From Andy he knew that you didn’t take shit from anyone including Lloyd. So, either this was legendary or catastrophic.

“Really? Your trash stash says something different, you look like a pervert.” Dammit what had he missed? Carter only spaced out for a short minute.

In Lloyd’s eyes Carter could see this was about to escalate. “You better-“ “Hey! Hey…how about we start shooting? Y/n you’re gonna walk around in your nighties and try to seduce Lloyd, no luck so we move to the shower where you try again, he leaves and lastly you guys have sex in the living room.”

“Wait people really like that?” you questioned before this you hadn’t shot a stepfamily video. Carter looked down a bit ashamed, “yeah, yeah they do.” Giving him a quite ‘wow’ you put away the bathing robe.

Lloyd put away his robe to revealing him in only a pair of swim shorts. Your eyes drifted over his perfectly sculptured, toned abbs. “Sunshine, I think you’re staring at me,” Lloyd’s voice made your eyes shoot up to his, “good thing you don’t get paid for thinking.”

“Okay, everyone get in position! We’re filming in five, four, three, two, one and action!” Carter yelled over the set.

You put on a seductive smile as you walked over to Lloyd who was leaning against the kitchen counter. Shaking your hips, you took slow steps forward. “Hey there daddy,” you said stroking your hand over his biceps which was surprisingly smooth.

He was quick to react and pushed you away from him, “wow! What are you doing? If you’re mom sees that.” Lloyd took a few steps backwards.

“Don’t worry she out for a trip with her friends and you have me all to yourself,” you didn’t know what you were doing. “I’m your stepfather! This can’t happen.” “Come on live a little daddy!” you called out with excitement. “Stop calling me that,” Lloyd demanded before walking away.

Leaving you in the kitchen with a pout. You sat down on the couch with a huff and turned the tv on. Shortly after you hear the shower start running and your lips curled into a smirk.

Stripping from your soft lilac night gown you exposed your naked body to the camera.

Quietly you walked to the bathroom, peaking the door open you could see Lloyd’s naked form. Your eyes drifted down to his erected cock which he was slowly stroking. You might hate him, but goddamn did you like what you were seeing.

Slowly you walked up behind him. The shower was open, and you could easily come up behind him without him noticing.

Lloyd groaned lowly as he rubbed his dick, he wouldn’t admit it, but your fierce energy made him this hard. His head dipped back the warmth of the shower consuming him in his pleasure.

You snaked your hand around Lloyd and put it around his dick gently following his movements. Peppering kisses along his back you moved his hand away from his erection.

“Yeah, keep going love,” “mhm try again daddy…” you whispered against the shell of his ear. Instantly Lloyd’s eye snapped open, and he fled from your grip.

“The fuck are you doing here? Fucking shit and cover yourself!” he threw a towel your way which you dodged. “Oh, come on I know you wanna fuck me,” you stepped closer backing him against the sink.

Lloyd had a hard time resisting you but couldn’t break character, “it doesn’t matter if I want to or not. You are my stepdaughter, I’m married to your mother!”

Your hands cradled his face, “she never has to know. We’re not blood, we can do what we want…” lips ghosting over his. “Give it to me…fuck me…fuck me rough, make me cry, fuck me until I can’t walk,” you begged him clawing your hands on his broad shoulders.

A growl came past his lips and Lloyd grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him. “Fine. You want me to fuck you rough? Make you cry like a little girl and treat you like a filthy whore?” “Yes, yes please daddy-.” He turned you around pushing you against the sink.

“Call me daddy again and you can’t sit straight for a week,” Lloyd hissed while one of his hands landed a firm slap on your ass. A gasp escaped you in response.

“Understood?” “Understood…” “Sir you call me sir and if you don’t you get punished.”

Lloyd dragged you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed. You smirked at him as you pushed up and your elbows and spread your legs giving him a perfect view on your pussy.

With a mischiefs smile Lloyd grabbed your ankles drawing you to the edge of the king-sized bed. “What a slutty pussy do we have here huh? I didn’t even touch you yet and here you are dripping like the whore you are….” His words send shivers down your spine.

Letting his finger trail up your body he moved above you. Grabbing him by the neck, you pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Whining into his mouth desperately.

Everything to stay in role you thought to yourself. You didn’t necessarily have to kiss your fellow actors unless in fitted the role you were given and here it wasn’t required.

Without thinking Lloyd kissed you back, the same thought running through his mind.

His hands moved down to your wrists taking them from himself. One of his hands gripped both of your wrists as the other longed for the belt that laid a few inches away from your head. He tied your wrist together having to poke another hole in the belt.

Going back down he was eye to eye with your cunt. His hands gripped your thighs, and he lapped your pussy like a starved man. Moaning loudly, you wiggled against the belt.

You wanted to touch him, grip his hair, and shove his face deeper inside you. His moustache teases your bundle in the best kind of way.

However as much as you loved the way he made you feel, you hated it. You hated him with your guts, but that man knew what he was doing, and you enjoyed it. His tongue circled your hole before diving in. One hand let go of your thigh and joined his tongue.

Two fingers curling inside of you while his tongue played with you bundle of nerves. You squeezed his fingers when they hit your sensitive spot. “Damn such a tight cunt for such a whore. If two of my fingers barley fit, how are you gonna take my fat cock?”

“Oh, but I know a slut like you would do everything for a cock wouldn’t she? A dumb whore who doesn’t know better is only after cock,” he continued.

Slowing down his movements Lloyd admired your torn expression.

He loved that he could see how conflicted you were with him giving you this kind of pleasure and still hating him.

Letting out a high-pitched whine as Lloyd didn’t stop teasing you, you tried rolling your hips for more pleasure. Instead, his hand pushed your hips back down, “little slut…are that desperate? What you wanna come? Want your sir to relieve you?”

Quickly you nodded your head not able to form words. “Words whore.” Lloyd slapped your cunt the moment he didn’t hear any words from you. “Yes, sir I want you to relieve me.”

“What a shame I don’t want to,” he said and stood up. Whining you reached for him with your hips longing for his sinful mouth again. “No, the only way you’re coming today is on my cock because that what a whore like you wants right? The only thing you think about all day is to be a whore for a cock.”

The tip of his dick graced your leaking hole using the juice from as lube. Without warning you he pushed himself inside stretching you out.

His hands rested on either side of your head, “fuck tight as a virgin. How is your cunt still this tight when you’re such a slut.” Groaning he seated himself deeper into your pussy.

“Move, please move sir…” you whimpered. Complying Lloyd moved back and forth, the first few thrusts went slow and then he rutted into you. For better grip he wrapped his right hand around your throat.

With Lloyd destroying your pussy, whispering the dirtiest words in your ear, and hitting all the right spots at the same time you felt the familiar knot building in your stomache.

Clenching your walls together around Lloyd's cock causing a loud moan from his lips to escape. He squeezed your throat in response.

Here you were making the filthiest noises when Lloyd could break everything with the sound of his moan. Never in your life before had you heard a sound that turned you on like this.

“Does the sound of my moan turn you into a little slut? Oh no, wait! You already are a slut!” you wanted to answer him but all that came from you was a blabbering sound.

“Oh, have I fucked you dumb already?” He questions with a mocking pout.

You tried shaking your head as much as you could with Lloyd's hand laced around your throat. “I-I come…sir come I” you stammered around.

The sound of flesh slapping together could be heard around the entire set. “You wanna come? Then work for it whore,” with that he turned you around.

He laid on his back with you sitting on his cock. The sudden change of position and angle making you moan pornograficly.

His cock hit spots that you didn't even know about until now.

Taking a deep breath you began moving your hips in circular motions. “Are you this dumb or do just act like it? Are you a dumb fucking whore? Are you so dumb that you can't even ride me properly?”

His hand went back to your hips moving them up and down while pushing his hips against yours.

The tight grip caused bruises, and the realization got you close to the edge.

“Cum for me little slut, cum for your sir like a whore should.”

You collapsed on Lloyd from the intense orgasm he gave you. You already knew you were going to sleep for hours after this and to be honest you could sleep already.

“Now don't fall asleep on me whore, you still have to make me cum.” He pushed you away from him to stand up.

His erection glistening with your cum, gripping your hair he pulled you to him.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded. Doing so he directly pushed his cock into your mouth. You could taste your own cum mixed with his pfecum, having you pussy thrombin.

Lloyd brutally fucked your throat. For a moment stopped to let you gag on his cock causing tears to spring in your eyes.

“Whores don't get to breathe,” he told you.

You whimpered wanting his cum already. As if he heard your thoughts Lloyd let go and fucked his cum down your throat admiring the bulge he made. A relieved moan coming from his soft lips.

A moment of silence fell between the two of you. Making eye contact felt like another world.

Then Carter's loud ‘cut’ rang through the set. “Amazing!!! You can put the robes back on, shower and leave for the day! Oh, y/n how was it? Would you do it again? Maybe go a bit more into bdsm this time?”

You looked at him with a tired smile as you put the robe back on. “Yeah sure! However I would start slowly if that's okay?”

Carter waved you off, “of course that's okay! I gotta see…we could start with Fowler…” before he could finish you interrupted him. “We don't have to do it right now! Just schedule something with Bunny and text me.” You told him and walked away for a needed shower.

Lloyd watched you take off, “you give her to anyone but me and I will have you fired,” he whispered to Carter.

Speechless he watched Lloyd walk away wearing a satisfied smirk.

#lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x black reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x plus size reader #lloyd hansen angst #lloyd hansen au #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fanfiction #pornstar!lloyd hansen #pornstar!lloyd hansne x reader #pornstar!lloyd hansen smut #pornstar!au #vee's pornstars ⭐️🔥#my bitch lloyd 👀

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musingmeaninglessly · 10 months

Text

Watching Across the Spiderverse w/ Lo'ak & Neteyam (ft. Spider)

A/N; Since so many of us crossover into both these fandoms, I came up with this fun idea. Also, it was kinda inspired by the cute human drabbles that @littletrippyyhippyy writes! Hope y'all enjoy, I made myself laugh writing this, at least 😂

Warnings; Bit of swearing. Spider loses it. Lo'ak's a dummy. Spoilers for both movies, I guess??? Human reader. Kinda proofread.

Summary; You convince Neteyam and Lo'ak to watch Across the Spiderverse with you. They have some questions...

"OH. MY. GOD."

From your sudden verbal outburst, it's safe for the Sully brothers next to you to assume that you enjoyed the movie.

Across the Spiderverse, to be exact.

"That was incredible!! You guys liked it, right? Of course you did! You loved it! Tell me how much you loved it!!" you ramble, excitedly jumping up from your seat on the couch, turning to face your two Na'vi friends.

It had all been Jake's idea. Ever since you arrived on Pandora five years ago, his sons had become more interested in learning about human culture, from different foods to pop culture. The Sully patriarch had a feeling that their interest had piqued because of you specifically, but that was an avenue to be ventured down another time.

The brothers had happily agreed to watch this movie with you, despite having no idea what a spider is or why it should be attributed to any man. But, they couldn't turn down any time spent with you.

After begging Norm to somehow source the long-awaited sequel to Into the Spiderverse, you had ushered them over to the shack through the comms system. Whether you believed in the deity or not, you thanked God for Norm and his ways. Wi-Fi on Pandora was sketchy at best and just about held up for the odd email. Yet, somehow, Norm had got a hold of the new cinematic release so that you wouldn't have to suffer through streaming it.

And for you, it had been so worth the wait. You had loved every damn second. When Into the Spiderverse came out, you had been preparing to leave Earth. It was crazy to think how much had changed in the five years since you arrived on Pandora, a theme that had been mirrored in the movie.

Whipping your head round from the projector screen, where the movie credits rolled, Neteyam and Lo'ak would've marvelled at the joy lighting up your face if they hadn't been so damn confused. Neteyam looked as though he were about to say something but was continuously rephrasing it in his mind. Whereas Lo'ak just came straight out with it, amber eyes narrowed. "I'm confused..."

"By what?" you scrunch your face up. You had taken time to explain the whole premise of the Marvel universe to the brothers. Apparently they hadn't caught on just yet.

"Everything. Why could that Miles guy walk upside down? Why were there so many man spiders? And when will he kiss the blonde girl??"

"Lo'ak, I explained it all to you! Miles got bit by a radioactive Spider in the first movie, couldn't save his uncle Aaron, and you should know the rest!" you flop in between the brothers in an over-dramatic way, resuming your seat from earlier.

Lo'ak's brows knit together in a childish sort of way, but he smirks teasingly. "I can't ask questions now? Not my fault your dumb human movie makes no sense... OW!"

Neteyam's slap up the side of Lo'ak's head puts him back in his place. You exchange an amused glance with the oldest Sully brother, before giving Lo'ak a nudge in the ribs.

"Shut up, skxawng. Not my fault you didn't pay attention! The movie was amazing, right Neteyam?"

Neteyam looks a little caught off guard as you ask his opinion. In truth, he's a little confused by the story too, but he had paid better attention to your precursory Marvel lesson.

"It was...interesting." he muses thoughtfully, before Lo'ak cuts him off.

"I got another question! Why, Y/N, did you blush whenever that big guy came on the screen?"

His shit-eating smirk would have annoyed you if your thoughts hadn't been redirected to your favourite hunky Spider-Man.

"Oh, Miguel?" you ask before sighing dreamily. The brothers watch you in amusement as you resemble an ice pop melting in the August sun. "He's yummy..."

"Gross! He was a jerk!" Lo'ak exclaims. "He looked like he was about to explode he was so huge! Is this really what you human girls like?"

Grabbing the remote from you, Lo'ak rewinds the movie to a still of Miguel, immediately wishing he hadn't when you squeal in delight. As you do, though, he not-so-subtly flexes his biceps to compare with your animated crush.

"You got a way to go, bro" Neteyam chortles, eyeing his brother's lanky arms in amusement. Lo'ak just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. That guy was an asshole. Did you see the way he yelled at Miles?" Lo'ak waves his arms around and it's honestly amusing to you how invested he appears to be in the movie.

"Kinda reminded me of you and your Dad..." you tap your chin in thought, grinning at the sputtering sound of laughter that comes from Neteyam beside you. Once again, Lo'ak scowls, but it doesn't stop you adding, "...on a good day..."

Neteyam loses it then and there, his usual coyness replaced with hysterical laughter that forces him to reach for the Co2 ask around his neck. Even Lo'ak cracks a small smile at your quip, and soon you're all laughing together.

That is, until the moment is interrupted by your human brother from another mother.

"Hey guys! I got snacks for the movie, I can't wait to see i-"

Spider's eyes widen with betrayal as they land on the rolling credits on the screen. His jaw drops, as do the snacks that he's holding. You can only bite your lip and stifle a laugh as his focus turns to you, pointing an accusing finger. "YOU."

"Spider, I'm sorry but you took too long!" you leap up, backing away from him. He's taller than you, after all, and evidently pissed. The sight makes Neteyam and Lo'ak snicker a little, although they are a bit worried for you...

"You watched the whole damn thing without me!" Spider is not far away from throwing a hissy fit, and it takes everything in you not to explode with laughter. Hands outstretched, you look as though you're taming a wild mountain banshee. At the moment, Spider certainly resembles one. "YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE SPIDER-MAN, Y/N! WHY DO YOU THINK EVERYONE CALLS ME SPIDER?"

"I thought it was because of your hair, bro..." Lo'ak teases, truly testing your resolve where laughter is concerned.

"BRO-"

"Let's calm down..." Neteyam chuckles, standing up to try and calm Spider down in his big-brotherly way, "We'll watch it again, right Y/N?"

"Of course!" you squeak, growing a little nervous at Spider's impending wrath. So much so that after hiding behind Neteyam, you dart towards the door, giggling as you run away from the taller human boy.

"Y/N! YOU. ARE. DEAD!"

There's a mad chase, but the Sully brothers look at each other in amusement as they hear your high-pitched laughter resounding through the corridor.

"Looks like we're watching the man spiders again, bro..." Lo'ak turns to his brother.

"Yeah, looks that way..." Neteyam grins.

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

Text

The One That Got Away - Chapter Fifteen

Warnings: angst, injuries, fluff, flirting.

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Try to get some rest,” Y/N smiled at her patient and exited the room, heading back to the main desk to see who was next on the list. In two sweet hours, she’d finish her shift and finally get some proper time off.

Jess’ premature departure meant she and all of the nurses on her staff had banded together to cover more shifts than usual as they waited for a temporary replacement to start. It had been exhausting, and Y/N was surprised at how quickly she’d fallen out of the habit of pulling a seventy hour week, but it was finally over. The new nurse had started yesterday, and normal shift service had resumed for her and her team.

There was another reason for her excitement: her date with Dean was in fourteen hours. Not that she was counting. Y/N had been disappointed they had to postpone their date last week, even more disappointed they couldn’t fit it in last week. However, these things happened, and Dean had been right; absence made the heart grow fonder. Not that she’d tell him that. He didn’t need the extra ego boost.

“Y/N”, Dr Ellen Harvelle said as she arrived at the check-in desk, ready to take another patient. “Got an emergency four minutes out. Someone from Firehouse 3 has been injured on a job. Normally I wouldn’t ask, but everyone else is tied up.”

“I’m on it, Dr H,” Y/N replied, trying to push down the dread rising from her stomach. Throwing herself into action, she gowned up and ran to the ambulance bay. Please don’t be Dean or Bobby. Please don’t be Dean or Bobby. Was all that was running through the nurse’s head as she swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

Sirens blaring and lights flashing, the ambulance screeched to a stop in front of them, immediately followed by the firetruck. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, but the second Dean and Bobby jumped from the engine, Y/N exhaled deeply and relaxed.

“You good?” Ellen asked, and she nodded and jumped into action.

“What have we got?” Y/N asked, stepping up to the ambulance and waiting for the paramedic’s assessment.

“Castiel Novak, thirty-five, trapped by a falling beam from the ceiling of a burning building. He was found unconscious, breathing apparatus dislodged. Suspect the collapse of both lungs and damage to the airways from smoke inhalation. Compressions have been ongoing since he crashed about thirty seconds ago,” Jack spoke as he and Jo got the gurney out of the ambulance.

“Alright, Y/N, we’re gonna need to do a ride-along,” Ellen said.

“What can we do?” Bobby asked calmly, though his widened eyes showed his concern.

“We need to keep compressions going. Jack, do everything Y/N tells you. Guys,” she directed to the firefighters surrounding her, “on my say, help me move him to trauma bay three. Y/N? Whenever you’re ready.”

Y/N climbed on the gurney and straddled Castiel’s thighs. “Alright, Jack. On the count of three, pull away, and I’ll take over, okay?” she waited until Jack met her gaze and nodded his understanding before placing one hand on top of the other and clasping her fingers together.

“One, two, three!” Seamlessly, Jack pulled his hands away, and Y/N replaced them with her own, not missing a beat as she began pumping Castiel’s chest firmly.

“Let’s move!” Ellen ordered, and Dean and Benny stepped forward and pushed Castiel and Y/N into the hospital.

Having suffered a collapse of both lungs, a concussion, and damage to his respiratory system from smoke inhalation, Castiel was in a serious but stable condition. He was responding well to treatment, but the next twenty-four hours would be critical, and Y/N knew there would be a vigil of firefighters in the waiting room until he was out of the woods.

With her shift just about over, Y/N checked on Cas one last time and updated his chart before handing his care over to Kevin. She wanted to stay on and work a double, but when she spoke to Rowena about it, the red-head told her that she’d reached her quota of hours for the week and reminded her she’d already pulled two doubles this week and to go home before she fell down and she was the one lying in a hospital bed.

Closing her locker, Y/N threw her purse over her shoulder and let her hair loose from the uncomfortably tight and itchy bun it had been constricted for the past fifteen hours.

Making her way to the waiting room to give the firehouse her final update, she smiled slightly, seeing all the firefighters were no longer in their turnout gear. Jackets and helmets were no longer strewn all over the tables, chairs and floor. Y/N remembered from Pamela and Taylor that half of them would’ve taken the truck back, changed their clothes, and brought food back for the others before they would go back and change out of their gear.

“Y/N, what’s the latest?” Uncle Bobby asked as he saw her standing in the doorway.

“He’s responding well to treatment. His oxygen levels are coming up. There’s still a long way to go, but he’s definitely going in the right direction,” she responded.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for him,” Uncle Bobby smiled and walked towards her. “Is your shift over, Princess?”

“Yeah, I wanted to stay, but-”

“You reached your quota again, didn’t you?” Bobby chuckled.

“Maybe…” Y/N grinned. “But, there were extenuating circumstances this week which have been resolved.”

“So, you’re telling me it’s not gonna become the norm for you to go above and beyond?” he smirked, his eyes twinkling as he teased her.

“I hope not,” Y/N smiled softly, her eyes falling on Dean, and Bobby grinned, hoping, just like his niece, that things would work out between the couple.

“You should say goodbye to him before you go,” Bobby told her softly. Y/N nodded and stepped tentatively towards where Dean stood with Benny and Charlie.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean smiled as she stepped beside him. “Thanks for what you did for Cas.”

“It’s nothing, just doing my job,” she lowered her gaze shyly.

“Modest much?” Charlie chuckled. “What you did was heroic!”

“Oh no, that’s not… I don’t… You guys are the real heroes here,” Y/N shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the attention.

“Uh, can I talk to you? Outside?” Dean said, gently pushing her towards the door and she nodded gratefully at his timely rescue.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, De,” she giggled as they stepped outside.

“Well, Charlie is right about the modest thing. You’ve never done well with attention or praise,” he chuckled softly. “So, I hate to do this, but about tonight-”

“Hey, it’s fine, Dean. You’re where you need to be, and Cas is more important than our date,” Y/N said.

Dean smiled, grateful that she got it. Though he wouldn’t say Cas was more important than her, he was a higher priority right now. “Thanks for understanding, Princess. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better,” she grinned.

“Cross my heart,” Dean smirked. “Now, your shift is over, Nurse Singer, and I think you should go home and sleep. You look dead on your feet.”

“Yeah. I feel like I could sleep until I’m back on shift!” Y/N chuckled.

“Well, if you don’t pass out for four whole days,” Dean laughed. “Call me when you’ve had some rest. Maybe we could rearrange our date?”

“I’d like that,” Y/N nodded and tried to suppress a yawn.

“Go home! Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” Dean said, kissing her forehead.

“Alright, I’m going! Keep me updated on Cas, please?” she responded as she stepped backwards away from Dean.

“You got it,” Dean smiled, watching her turn around and walk down the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N!” he shouted, smirking when she turned around. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good night, handsome,” Y/N grinned back before turning and continuing down the hallway.

Y/N spent her first day off sleeping for three to four hours, eating, watching television, doing chores for three to four hours, and then going back to sleep. During one of her awake times, she’d called Dean, and he’d happily let her know that Cas was officially “stable” and out of the woods. He’d be on his feet and heading home in no time.

They’d agreed to wait a few days before planning their date so Dean could be on hand to help Cas if he needed it. No doubt he’d be feeling the impact of the damage to his lungs and airways for a few weeks yet and would likely tire doing the most mundane of tasks.

Dean had apologised profusely and again promised to make it up to her, but Y/N convinced him there was no need, and she didn’t mind waiting a little longer for him.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” she’d teased him.

“So they tell me,” Dean huffed lightly, suggesting just a hint of frustration.

“Come on, De. We’ve waited twelve years. What’s a few more days?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lighten his mood.

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I need to like it, Princess.”

“Aww, are you missing me?” she teased again.

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed, and Y/N’s heart ached.

“Well, I know Cas will be taking up a lot of your time the next few days, but you know where I am if you wanna come over for dinner.”

“If I can, I will, sweetheart,” he sighed again. “Just wish I could promise.”

“Then promise to give me the best second date ever,” she giggled.

“Now that I can promise,” Dean said, and Y/N could hear the grin in his voice.

“Oh, I know you will!” Y/N giggled again, and Dean chuckled softly.

“I gotta go, Princess. I’ll call you later?”

“Can’t wait! Bye, De.”

“Bye, Y/N/N.”

Next Chapter >>

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#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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outofgloom · 4 months

Text

[This story is the last in my previously-posted anthology of Bionicle short fiction, to which it lends its name]

AIKURU

We arrived at the site before sunrise. It was in a place north of the ridge called Sakerra in the language of our Skrall guides. The discovery had been made only five days ago, and as we made our way down from the wind-worn crags, there were no apparent signs of raiding.

A structure was there in the valley, just as the flyover had reported. It was of the same gray, stonelike material from which all Their architecture is made—so old now that it no longer gleams in the light, but somehow still smooth to the touch.

As soon as we reached the lower steppes, our rangers set about the task of making provision for departure. Four days were allotted to us, and then the existence of the site would be announced to the Quadrate at large. After that, the System Adherents would claim their rights, and the site would be swallowed up in pilgrimage.

The structure was immediately familiar to me as we approached: a broad circle, rounded at the edges, raised from the ground by perhaps two spans to form a low column or stage. Half of the structure was covered beneath a berm of sediment, probably deposited by one flash-flood and then partly washed away by another. We immediately began the process of excavation, except for Neisa, who took up a position on the west side of the structure with her tools for assessing angles and spans, ready to note the position at which the red dawnlight would fall. It was a typical measurement, given the theory that such shrines were oriented in a significant way.

First with shovels and then with small brushes of fine wire, we cleared away the dust and caked mud until the entire circumference was revealed. As I had suspected, the entryway was already opened, and it too was filled with earth. Most of the first day was spent this way: in turns, we sifted through each layer, revealing step by narrow step the spiraling staircase that characterized shrines of this type. They were an original icon: the prototype for the modern chapels of the System Adherents.

I was halfway down the second bend of the staircase, carefully cleaning dirt from the lip of the next step, when Osphos summoned me from above. I emerged with my bucket and saw that he was crouched over the shrine’s far edge. I stepped across the rolls of harak-cloth that had been laid down for the protection of the exterior and made my way over.

“Lytus!” he said, seeing me approach. “Look here.” He pointed at the stone surface before him.

We had already noted the usual markings on top of the shrine: the eighteen-fold division of the broad circle, the components of which descended into a staircase when the shrine was opened. That was nothing new, but here there was something else. Small symbols were carved around the outer edge of the circle; very worn, but still visible.

“They showed up once we cleared off enough sediment,” Osphos said.

“Are they makoki-symbols?”

“Herem’s Eye, that’s the word I was thinking of! Makoki-symbols, yes,” Osphos said. “Ever seen them on a structure like this?”

“No, never. Are we sure they’re original?” I crouched, put an eye close to the surface. “There’s graffiti sometimes, bone-hunter codes, the Matan inscriptions on the eastern sites... These are new to me.”

“Any guess as to what they might signify?”

“Well...” I sat back on my heels, rubbed my eyes. “Makokori are early period, and we don’t find them past Second or Third Myriad—not in the tablets or kini-ruins. Prior to that, they’re inscribed on doorways, and some of the Machines. There are theories that they signify keystones, or some kind of locking mechanism.”

“Fortunate that this shrine is already unlocked for us, then.”

“Yeah... I suppose these symbols might help date the shrine. If they’re original, this might be one of the earliest sites we’ve found. We should do an analysis of the sediment back at Naqua.”

“Already collected some samples. I’ll take a rubbing as well,” Osphos said. “How’s progress on the interior?”

I brushed off my hands. “We’re close. Another turn and we should be at the bottom. I could use more help.”

Osphos snapped his fingers to the other workers who were combing the field-grid for artifacts.

“Double-time on the stairs for the next few hours,” he called. “I want to see the bottom before Solis is down. Let’s move it!”

* * *

We did not reach the bottom. Normally, shrines of this kind exhibit two or three turns of stairs and then level out in a circular chamber. Not this one. Solis had set an hour ago, and still we were digging, our work illuminated only by pale quartz-lanterns. Stair after stair we exhumed, always expecting the next to be the last. But after six turns, descending fully twelve thori—or about six of Their bio—into the earth, still there was no end.

Osphos finally gave the command to stop, frustrating though it was, and we began to pack up the tools. I was at the bottom of the excavation at that point. The air was thick, and my back hurt from crouching for so long. I began to gather the various shovels and brushes that had accumulated around me, handing them up to Neisa on the stair above me.

“Can you handle the rest?” Neisa nodded to the remaining implements.

“Right behind you.” I stood and stretched my limbs in the cramped space, then reached for my tool-bundle and bucket.

Something caught my eye—a glint in the quartzlight, a fragment of something sticking out of the mass of earth before me. I rubbed my tired eyes, blinked away the settling dust. It was still there.

Wordlessly, I snatched up a brush and began to sweep away more dirt. It was metallic—a shaped metal object. There was a corner and a round sweep and...

“Lytus?” Osphos’s voice filtered down from above. He was annoyed. “Pack it in. We’ll get back to it first thing in the—”

“I’ve found something!” I called back. “It’s an object. I’m not sure...”

Eyeholes. A facelike shape. My heart thudded.

“It’s a mask,” I said excitedly. “One of Theirs.”

“What?!” Neisa had come back down the staircase. Light from her lantern spilled into the space. “What condition?”

“Intact, I think.”

She knelt down beside me with a brush of her own. Together we worked to carefully expose the surface of the mask. The sediment here was dry and loose, spilling away in small showers of particulate. All at once, the object came free, along with a mass of unpacked earth. Out of instinct, I put out a hand to catch it.

“Watch it,” Neisa said. “Careful not to—”

I was standing on the stairs, alone. Light was coming from somewhere—not quartzlight, from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was kuru, and... What? Dark. Foggy. My mind was foggy. What was happening? Where was—

Suddenly the ground lurched, and there was a roaring noise above. I staggered against the smooth poha... no, stone. Against the stone, and the avo flickered below me. The light flickered, rather. Then another tremor knocked me sideways, and stars broke out in my aku as my head struck the poha hard. The avo went out, and the roaring was all around, and it was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“...touch it,” Neisa finished. The metal of the mask was cold against my fingers. The stairs spun, and I felt sick for a moment. Then it was over. I quickly transferred the mask to a strip of harak-cloth, handling it gingerly.

“What was... What did you say?” I shook my head. “Don’t touch it?”

“Yeah... uh, you alright? You look pale.”

I grinned. “I’m fine. Could use some fresh air though. You feeling superstitious or something?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know why I said that. It was silly.”

“You know they say these masks trap the souls of their wearers...”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Neisa bent down to examine the artifact. “Amazing. I’ve only seen them behind glass, or in the sterile rooms at Naqua.”

“Yeah, this is... It’s a find,” I said. The mask felt heavy and solid in my hands.

There was a murmur on the stairs, and I could hear Osphos’s grumbling voice descending toward us. He turned the corner.

“What now?” he said. “Tell me you’ve found something to make this worthwhile.”

“Think so,” I said, holding up the mask.

“What’s that?”

“Are you blind?” Neisa laughed. “It’s a Kanochus Mat—”

“No,” Osphos said, pointing past us. “That.”

There was a cavity in the wall of earth before us. It must have opened up when we removed the mask.

“The bottom!” Neisa said excitedly. She moved forward, shining her light through the gap.

She stopped. It wasn’t the bottom. I could already see. My heart was still thudding. It was dark. It was roaring in my ears. There was a smell, strangely metallic... and another shape sticking out of the dirt. Not a mask.

Fingers. A hand. An arm.

A face. Flat, blank eyes. A circular, wedge-like mouth. Open.

One of Them.

* * *

We stood around the examination table with its harak-draped contents—Osphos, Neisa, and myself. It was afternoon, and Solis was already falling toward the horizon, casting red shadows through the fabric of the tent.

Osphos broke the silence: “I don’t need to impress upon either of you how significant a find this is. Maybe the most significant I’ve overseen.”

“That’s for sure,” Neisa said. “The protobiologists back at the Institute would lose it if they knew...”

“They would, and hopefully they still will.”

We had worked to remove the body from the shrine over the course of the day—Osphos, Neisa, and myself, in shifts. It had been difficult work, but uneventful. Bit by bit we’d brushed away the packed earth and ancient sediment, revealing more and more of the remains. Now extricated from its tomb, the body lay on the large table before us, still wrapped, ready to be examined.

Before today, I’d only ever seen bits and pieces, partial casts of exoskeletons, mock-ups of skull-like faces... But this was different. It was completely intact, as far as we could tell: head, torso, limbs. A monumental find. The first complete specimen of what we called Matorus Matans.

“Before we start, there’s the matter of our timetable,” Osphos continued. “We obviously weren’t expecting a development like this, and that means priorities have changed.” He looked at me: “We might not get back to the shrine. I’m sorry, Lytus.”

My heart sank. “You’re sure? The shrine is pretty significant on its own, and we still haven’t reached the base layer.”

“It’s not going anywhere. The Adherents can have their Node if they want, and we’ll work something out via the Institute later if necessary. These... remains... have to be our focus now. I want them cataloged and prepared for transport offsite.”

“Offsite?” Neisa raised her eyebrows. “That’s pretty drastic.”

“There’s good reason,” Osphos said. “The Adherents have some odd notions when it comes to remains of this kind.”

“I mean, they’ll want them interred I suppose, but...”

“Maybe. It’s complicated—”

The tent-flap opened, and someone else entered carrying a bundle of implements. It was one of the junior researchers—Cyrcia.

“Yes?” Osphos said flatly.

“I told her that she could observe,” I said, beckoning her in. “Neisa and I thought we could use an extra set of hands.”

“You’ve done catalog before?” Osphos asked.

“Yes, I have,” Cyrcia replied. Her eyes passed over the table and its contents, then back up. “It’s a real honor, I’ve gotta say—”

“I’m sure it is. Grab a tablet, and get ready to make notes.” Osphos turned to the table, cracked his knuckles.

“The light’s a bit better now. Neisa, will you do the honors?”

Neisa began to carefully pull back the cloth that covered the body while I unrolled a bundle of fine tools. The limbs and lower torso were still encrusted with sediment. I’d start with that while Neisa took her measurements. We each began to call out observations in turn for Cyrcia to transcribe. We moved quickly, notating and tagging the legs and the squared-off feet, then the lower torso with its segments, then the upper torso.

“One and a half thori across the chest,” Neisa called out, “and we’ll say ten sub-thori for the arms...”

“Primary exoskeleton is of common morphology,” Osphos said. “Similar format to those recovered from the Galian Sea. Connective tissues are mostly decayed...”

“Some surface corrosion around the joining plates,” I added. “Centerline and upper shoulders. Only 1-2 ditori of penetration. Make note for dating purposes, mark upper-left buckle for cross-sectioning...”

“Twelve sub-thori across the lower mid-section. Five sub-thori for each of the radial pistons...”

“Tissue residue along the clavicle struts. Mark for lab-sampling. Limbs and neck will need to be secured for transport...”

Finally, we reached the head. I tugged the cloth upward and pulled it off. Cyrcia gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

“First time?” Neisa said, smiling.

“Yes, but... shouldn’t it be... shouldn’t it stay covered?”

“It’s a corpse,” Osphos said. “Just a body, like yours or mine. Several ten-myriads older, but nothing to be afraid of, despite all the superstitions.”

“Right... sorry.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I can.”

“Good. Let’s keep going then. And remember—no souvenirs. We’re not bone hunters here.”

Neisa rolled her eyes. The practice of fashioning talismans from Their relics and remains had fortunately been curbed in recent centuries, though you could still find them in the odd back-alley market.

We finished primary cataloging, and Osphos stepped to one of the crates, removing a bundle he had stored there. He moved back to the table and unwrapped it. Smooth metal glinted in the tent. Two eyeholes stared up at the tent-roof. Cyrcia’s eyes goggled at the ancient mask.

“Shall we do a match-up?” Neisa asked, nodding to the exposed face. “This would have been the specimen’s personal Kanochus. It must have been separated during whatever flood or mudslide buried the shrine.”

There was a noise in my ears. Roaring noise, and a memory of a dark place... I shook it off as Osphos moved to the head of the table after double-checking the mask’s interior. He lowered the mask gingerly over the face, lining up the mouth-apertures. There was a faint click. Neisa leaned over to see how it fit over the side-vents—

Dark eyes glowed, and a light winked on in the center of the chest. Pistons hissed. Joints creaked. The body sat up suddenly in a shower of dust, limbs convulsing, fingers clenching and unclenching. I stumbled backward in shock, tripping over the low crates that lined the tent-wall. The masked face swiveled mechanically in my direction, and there was a noise. Not a noise—a voice. The rounded wedge-mouth was grinding out syllables at me. Alien sounds. Alien words. I put up my hands to ward it off, and—

Everyone was standing still. The eyes were dark. The body had not moved. I was sitting on a crate, my ears ringing. Neisa was looking down at me with a concerned expression.

“You okay, Lytus?”

“I... I got dizzy,” I lied.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Osphos asked. He had removed the mask and was wrapping it up again.

“A few hours at least. I’m fine, really.” I stood up, looking at the motionless body warily, trying to compose myself. No one else had seen what I had seen. It hadn’t really happened. Neisa was still looking at me.

“Are you sure? You look a little unsettled. First in the shrine, and then this. Maybe you should see a medic.”

Before I could reply, the tent-flap opened and another worker poked his head in. He was out of breath.

“Sorry, to bother you, boss, but there’s, uh... Someone’s here to talk to you.”

“Someone?” Osphos frowned.

“There was an airship, not two minutes ago. It landed beyond the ridge, and someone’s approaching from the trail.”

“Herem’s Eye,” Osphos swore.

* * *

The rangers escorted the strangers—there were two of them, actually—down to the edge of the camp.

One was tall—clearly an Athori—and as he approached, it was plain that he was fully armored; head to toe, like the Glatorian of old. The other was much shorter, bent over, leaning on a staff. It was a Skrall—an ancient one, by the head-crest.

Both of them wore metal masks. Only their eyes were visible.

The tall one planted himself just ahead, his squared-off, armored feet crunching in the gravel. The Skrall settled himself on a low metal stool beside him.

Osphos stepped forward. “Welcome,” he said politely. “I am Osphos, the overseer of this excavation. And you are?”

“My designation is Tasius,” the tall one said. His voice rang harsh behind the mask. “I am a Toa of the Adherency, of the Ackarian line. This...” he gestured to the Skrall, “...is Tura Shozu, elder of the Adherent Node at New Tellu. We have been sent to make claim upon this site.

“You’ve lost no time, it seems,” Osphos said dryly. “I wasn’t aware the Quadrate had opened the site at this time.”

“The site and its contents must be turned over at once. We—” Tasius stopped suddenly. The Skrall had raised a wizened hand.

“You are aware,” the elder said in a thin voice, “that the Adherency is granted right of access to all sites attributed to the System of Mata, are you not?”

“Well aware, yes. That is what we aim to determine: the provenance of the site, and the proper methods of its excavation and preservation, according to our charter.”

“Preservation or contamination?” The Skrall’s glance flicked to the tents behind us. “Our intelligence has indicated that this site is of particular significance to the Adherency.”

“You can follow the proper channels to make your claims, like everyone else.”

The Skrall continued undeterred:

“We have been made aware of certain... remains... left at this site. What is their nature, and how have they been contained?”

I could see the muscles in Osphos’s jaw flexing.

“Our excavation is less than two days old. May I ask the source of your ‘intelligence’?”

“The System is knowledge. Through Unity, knowledge is shared.”

“Fascinating,” Osphos said. “Well, regardless of your sources, I can’t give you access to the site at this time. By charter, the Quadrate has—”

“Animal remains, yes? Within the structure. I was led to believe that it was a beast.”

“I’m not at liberty to make that assessment.”

“May I see the remains?”

“All materials found at this site will be made publicly available.”

“I demand to see the remains.”

“No.”

The Skrall smiled. “Thank you for your candor. We have a truth-saying, amongst the Nodes: ‘The people of the world are of one nature or the other: Look into their hearts, and you will see that they are either Builders or Destroyers.”

“With respect, I believe it may be more complicated than that.”

“Then I have looked into your heart.”

“Uh…thank you. Is that all, Tura? We have a lot of work still to do.”

“I shall take word of our conversation to the Node Hierarchy and return later.”

“Fine by me.”

The Skrall put out a crooked hand and closed it into a fist in the manner of the Adherents. He inclined his head, waiting. After a moment, Osphos stepped forward and pressed his own fist against the elder’s. Then it was over. The Athori helped the Skrall to stand, and the two of them departed back up the slope, accompanied by the rangers. Osphos stood and watched, tapping his foot. He spoke quietly, keeping his face fixed in a smile.

“So much for offsite transport,” he growled after a few minutes. “They’ll have eyes on the camp now. By Angon, if we’d been just a bit quicker...” He swore again. Then, satisfied that the rangers had escorted the Toa far enough, he turned back to the camp.

“Nothing for it now. Let’s clean up and get things packed away. Oh, and Lytus—”

“Yeah?”

“Get some sleep—for real this time. I can’t have you falling over again during sensitive work.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

* * *

I didn’t sleep well that night after all. Instead, I dreamed.

Long, complicated dreams. Dreams that didn’t make any sense. I was in the stairwell of the shrine again. I was on a bright, open plain. I was speaking words and sentences that meant nothing to me. I was running from a dark, crashing wave that rolled over me and pressed on my face, on my mouth.

I was walking on the open plain again, and two suns were shining down on me. My face was still covered though, somehow. I reached up to claw at whatever was there. It came away in my hands.

It was my face, staring up at me.

I was lying in my cot, and the tent was dark. The desert night was cold outside. I shivered and turned over. There was a noise at the tent-flap, something scraping in the dirt. The dull ring of metal on poha... on stone.

The flaps shook. It was trying to get in. It was grinding, grinding words and syllables at me, words that meant nothing. It was roaring, roaring noise and darkness, darker than the night. It was kuru, ai kuru, roaring over the camp, crashing through the walls of my tent in a wave and sweeping me down into dark, into kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“Lytus?” Neisa’s voice brought me fully awake. It was morning. My bleary eyes focused, and I could see her silhouette through the side of the tent. “Lytus, you awake?”

“I’m up, sorry. What’s going on?”

“The emissary from the Adherents is back. Osphos is speaking with them.”

“Oh. What should we do?”

“Osphos said to stay put. Probably wouldn’t look good to have everyone out at the shrine right now.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah I’m heading over to one of the storage tents to help with tagging. Want to help?”

“Sure, I’ll follow you over in a bit.”

After a few minutes, I stepped outside into the pale red sunlight. I could see Osphos and a couple of the rangers on the far side of the circle of tents. The Athori and the Skrall were there as well. Their voices echoed faintly in the morning air, and I found myself walking closer. I stepped behind one of the taller tents nearby.

“...does not accord with our canons,” the Skrall was saying.

“I confess, Shozu—can I call you Shozu?”

“The correct title is ‘Tura’,” another voice said brusquely—the armored Athori.

“Sorry... Tura,” Osphos continued. “I’m not as familiar with the canons of Adherency as I should be, but I can assure you—”

“It is of utmost importance that we examine the site. The Kanohi in particular must be handed over.”

They knew about the mask somehow. Had they been spying on the camp?

“As I’ve said, that is something to take up with the Quadrate.”

“It is already in process, but the matter is urgent.”

“I must adhere to my charter and await further orders. Until then, we’ll continue our work.”

“We must be allowed to supervise. My companion here is trained in the handling of such objects. They must be treated with utmost care.”

“Yes, and—”

“And these remains—they must be verified. Some hapless bone hunter or a beast, I’m sure.”

“As I’ve told you, it is clearly a specimen of Matorus Matans, good Tura. There’s no mistaking it.”

“And as I have said, this is not in accord with our canons. Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

“Pardon?”

“Greater obscurity—my apologies. The Children of Mata are not some extinct automaton race. We ourselves are the heirs to the Great System Hierarchy. You must understand—”

“Your beliefs are your own.”

“...The Kanohi are precious. They connect us to the spirit of Mata, and to the spirits of those from the Before Time...”

My mind was racing, an avalanche of thoughts, fragments of dreams. A roaring noise, and dark, and kuru... What was happening to me? The Kanohi are precious... They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

What if...?

“Only then can we hope to repair the Shattering,” the elder was saying.

“With respect,” Osphos replied, “the Shattering is ancient history. It was repaired, at least five myriads ago.”

“A common myth, but it is a great untruth.”

I could tell Osphos was short on patience by now: “I can literally point it out to you in the strata. You see that ridge there? The Sakerran Ridge? It’s the tail end of a subduction zone where the Botan and Baran plates met—”

The Skrall laughed dryly: “A fantastical narrative, I admit, that a planet could be broken in pieces. But the reality is much more abstract. We ourselves live within the Shattering, my friend: the decay of the Great System Hierarchy of the Great Beings, which they called Mata Nui...”

“I do not—”

“We the Matoran,” the Skrall continued, ignoring him, “the Children of Mata, work now to rebuild and restore the Great System, in accordance with our canon. To connect all things together, till the scattered elements are made whole. Only then will the Great Beings return and truly heal this world.”

A long moment passed. The air was thick with tension.

“Ahem... I do not believe this conversation is productive,” Osphos said at last. “I’m not granting you access to the site at this time—no matter what your canons say. You’ll just have to wait for your request to be approved by the Quadrate, and that’s that, by Angon.”

Something happened. There was a scuffling noise, and the clank of armor.

“Hold it! That’s enough, you—”

I peeked over the top of the tent. The Athori—the one who had called himself a ‘Toa’—was standing between Osphos and the Skrall now, fists clenched. For a moment, I thought... I thought the air around him was shimmering with heat, like high noon on the desert. Then it was gone. There were rangers standing all around, and I noticed that they had weapons at the ready. One of them swung a bolas lazily.

“Control your guard, Shozu,” Osphos spat. “My reports go directly to the Quadrate. They’ll hear of this.”

“Take not the names of the Great Beings in vain!” the Skrall said indignantly, pointing a crooked finger from his stool. “The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked.”

“I’ve said all I have to say, by Angon.” He emphasized the expletive. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Tura, I’m on a timetable—”

“Such things lead only to kuru and ukuru worse! We must strive for clarity...!”

I had heard enough. Quietly I crept away between the tents, back toward the other side of the camp. The Skrall’s words spun in my mind as I walked. Kuru and ukuru worse. Something was wrong—ever since I had touched that mask... was that when it started? What did the Skrall know? I wanted to tell someone, but who would believe it? I was tired, that was all. It had been a long few days, full of strangeness and excitement. That must be it. I hoped so...

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. We didn’t get much work done—mostly tagging and storing various artifacts found around the site. I was itching to get back to the shrine, but Osphos was wary. He had sent couriers south to apprise our Quadrate contacts of the situation, but they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Until then, we were stuck.

In the evening, Osphos sought me out. He had a bundle under one arm.

“Here, Lytus. I’d like you to keep this in your tent.”

It was the mask. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Is that, uh, necessary?”

“Maybe not, but I’m taking no chances. The Adherents aren’t getting any more patient. Neisa’s keeping some other artifacts, and I think I’ll sleep in the examination tent tonight, just in case.”

“You mean... with the body?”

“Don’t make it sound creepier than it is.”

“Sorry.”

He offered the mask. I took it. My fingers felt numb.

“Tell you what, we’ll take another pass at excavating the shrine in the morning, try to get to the bottom.”

“That’s great! I’ll have my gear ready.”

“Only one day left to go, so what have we got to lose, right?”

The mask felt heavier than I remembered.

* * *

I had the dream again that night, or something like it. A stairwell, a bright plain with two suns. A dark roaring... Then... Then something else. A dim enclosure. Fabric walls. A tent? I was lying on my back, and my limbs were bound tight. My face was covered, but not with heavy suffocating darkness like before. It was lightweight, like cloth. I struggled, I yelled. My words were meaningless again.

The tent-flap shook, like last time. I could hear it, the scraping, the grinding. It was trying to get in, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything. The entrance parted, and there was darkness outside. Darkness on the ground, and in the darkness... now there was a crawling thing. Crawling, dragging itself through the dust, right up to the place where I lay. I could feel it. See it, even though my face was covered. Its flat eyes glowed, and its mouth was open. Grasping hands rose up toward me and searched, reached, searched—

I was standing in front of myself, seeing myself. I was stretched out beneath the covering, on the table. I was walking under stars, and my hands were full of something. I looked down and saw that I was holding my face. It looked up at me, up at the stars. I tried to put it back on, but it wasn’t my face anymore. It was glowing eyes and grasping hands, and a mouth grinding syllables and words. It was a shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark, and I stood before it, holding its face... my face.

I clawed at the covering, trying to pull it off, but the noise was approaching again. The roaring, rolling noise, and my face... its face... my face was grinding alien sounds and alien words, and it was so dark in the stairwell, in the cold, heavy earth. So dark under the cloying wrap of fabric, so kuru it was, and ukuru worse, ai kuru, ai ukuru—

I awakened in a cold sweat and rolled over. My hands slid in sand, and a stinging thornbush brought me fully awake. I wasn’t in my cot. Wasn’t in my tent. How...? It was still nighttime, but there were lights in the encampment, and the sound of people running. I could hear voices. What was happening? I stumbled up, brushing dust from my face, and realized that I was in the space next to my own tent. I went to the entrance and looked inside. No one there. Then I looked out toward the center of the camp, trying to get my bearings.

A figure came out of the darkness, and I flinched as it grabbed my arm. It was Osphos. He was out of breath.

“Where is it, Lytus?” he hissed. “The body—it’s gone!”

“What, from the examination tent?”

“Yes that body, by Angon. Did you do something? I didn’t even hear...”

“N-no, of course not!”

“What about Neisa? Have you seen her?”

“I haven’t.”

“Have you seen anyone?!”

“No, I just woke up!”

“Adherents...” He ground his teeth. “Ah, the Quadrate will hear of this...”

“Wait—Are you sure?”

“Who else? It’s gone from the tent, but nothing else has been taken. I came right here once I realized. Where’s the mask? Has anyone been in your tent?” He pushed past me, through the entrance.

A crawling thing, a thing with glowing eyes, reaching out... but that wasn’t my tent, was it?

“N-no, no one,” I stammered.

“Where did you put it? I have to be sure.”

I moved to the back of the tent and opened my personal crate. The hinges creaked. “It’s right here, see?”

The mask was gone, wrapping and all. Osphos saw.

“Acta!” he cursed, and then let fly a string of imprecations, invoking the dream-eater and the death-mind, among others. “What, were you drugged or something?!”

“I don’t know... Osphos, I—” I tried to get it out. “I had a dream, or I thought it was a dream. I keep seeing things...”

“Spare me.” He stormed out of the tent, and I followed, feeling absolutely bewildered. There was too much happening, too fast.

“Go find Neisa,” Osphos ordered. “I’m heading back to the examination tent. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, boss.”

I snatched up a quartz-lantern and made my way across the encampment toward Neisa’s tent. Hers was the last tent on the outer ring of the camp. My lantern cast a pale glow over the ground as I went, and I could see that there were lights in the hills now, figures moving up and down the steppe. The rangers were likely combing the perimeter. I stopped for a moment to watch, then realized that I had stupidly lost track of which tent was which. Was Neisa on the east or the west side?

I backtracked. The tents all looked the same in the quartzlight. I took a different turn... and now found myself standing on the path that led out to the open part of the valley. Out toward the shrine.

There were footprints in the dirt. Very fresh. Hard-edged, square toe. Where had I seen that before? I looked up the path, raising the lantern. There was something else. I stepped forward to investigate. It was a heap of cloth, harak-cloth, in small strips. Further up the path, there was another bundle cast to the side.

I kept walking, quickening my pace. More bits of cloth here and there. More footprints. Soon, the edge of the shrine loomed ahead. I moved toward it, stepping gingerly through the rope-grids that were stretched over the ground. I made a circuit of the shrine, then I climbed up on top. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. I shed quartzlight all around, then I stooped to look into the stairwell. The dust on the stairs had recently been disturbed—

“Get down from there,” a voice said, and I whirled to see the towering figure of the Athori Tasius standing on the trail.

“You—” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have every right,” the Athori said, stepping forward. “Remove yourself from the sacred Amaja!”

I put up my hands appeasingly and complied, climbing back down to the ground and taking a few steps toward him.

“I saw footprints on the trail up here,” I said. “Were they yours?”

“On the trail? No. I came from the hills. I have been charged to keep watch over the Amaja, to make sure no one further contaminates the site.”

“Did you see anyone come here ahead of me?”

“No.”

“There’s been a theft in the camp,” I said. “Do you have anything to do with that?” I immediately regretted asking so directly.

“Theft?” The Athori’s eyes widened. “Theft of what?” He took another step toward me.

“Uh...”

“Tell me!”

“The mask! The... the Kanohi, you call it. Someone took it tonight.”

“What else?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

The Athori said a word that was foreign to me. Probably a curse. He looked back toward the camp. His hands were clenched.

“Listen,” I said, “it looks like someone has entered the shrine. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“I am forbidden, without the Tura,” he said.

“Well, I’ll need to check inside.” I took a step back toward the shrine. “It will only take a second. If you’ll just wait here—”

A heavy, armored grip fell on my shoulder and I was forcefully turned back around. The Athori was fast, and very strong.

“The Amaja will not be touched again,” his voice said, deadly serious. I could feel hot breath through the mouth-piece of his mask. “You and your people have brought rahi upon this place, but no more. Now, I—”

He stopped suddenly, and I felt his fingers seize. He was looking past me, up at the shrine. I turned slowly.

Glowing eyes. An ancient mask. A small figure stood upon the top of the shrine, unmoving. I could see it. The Athori could see it. It was no hallucination this time. Not a dream.

“M-manas!” the Athori croaked. “Get back!”

He shoved me to the side before I could say a word.

And then he burst into flame.

Real flame, like the elementals of old who had been devoured by the Great Beings’ wrath. I didn’t even have time to register shock or surprise before the heat washed over me. Instinctively I threw up my arms to protect myself.

“Stop!” I shouted, scrambling away. “You’ll damage the site! Stop it!”

The fire whirled up and resolved into a glowing nimbus around the Athori’s hands and head. He drew a strange tool from a slot in his armor, and aimed it at the figure atop the shrine.

“No!”

Something flew out of the dark—a whirling rope-like thing—and wrapped itself around Tasius’s burning face and neck. The ends of the bolas whirled for a split second before they snapped tight, and the loud clack of the weights meeting their target made my teeth hurt. The fire went out suddenly, and the scene plunged into darkness. I heard the tramp of feet on the path, and voices shouting. Quartzlight bobbed in the distance.

I was already up and over the top of the shrine before I knew what I was doing. The figure was gone. The opening of the stairwell yawned before me—cool dark after the furnace heat—and I was scrambling down the stairs, two at a time.

“Wait!” I shouted, but my voice was blunted on the stone. “Come back!”

Turn after turn I went. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was pitch-black. I should have grabbed my lantern, but I had dropped it. I realized my hands were burned. They stung when I touched the wall, feeling my way along. I stumbled, picked myself up, and then felt earth against my fingers. The wall of earth where we had stopped excavating. No one was here... Had I been mistaken? Had the figure not gone back into the shrine? Maybe it had run off...

There was light, I realized. It wasn’t pitch-black here. My eyes adjusted, and I saw with a shock that the earth wall wasn’t a wall anymore. It had been dug through, shoveled back and shored up into the walls of a narrow tunnel. When had the others done this? Why hadn’t they notified me? There were handprints in the dust, I noticed. Squared-off palm, five fingers.

Heedless, I push on, squeezing through the tunnel, wriggling on my chest. For a moment I thought I was stuck, and panic surged, but then I was through, and there was no more earth. No more dirt or sediment. The stairs on the other side were clear, pristine. We had been so close, after all.

The light was stronger here, filtering up from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I had been here before, hadn’t I? No, not possible. I had just come through the tunnel... and I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was... my mind was kuru, and... foggy... What was I doing here again? I was waiting for something, wasn’t I? Waiting for a roaring sound... a darkness to come and cover me. I had been here many times, in my dreams.

No, that had been before, long ago. This time it was different. I was descending, and the light was getting stronger. Another bend of the stairs, and then the stairs ended.

It was a round, level, circular room—just like the many others I had seen before. The first thing I noticed was the Pedestal. In shrines of this kind, there was usually a square pedestal at one end, surmounted by a face-like image. In later types, the image was the skull of an animal, usually a Spikit or an Ironwolf.

On this one, there was a mask. It was the mask. It was glowing, and the light was coming out of every surface. My heart was thudding.

I was not alone. The body lay in a heap on the ground before the pedestal. I could see scorch marks on its back and upper arms. I came closer and saw that it was moving slightly. Slow breaths. The eyes glowed faintly.

I touched it, gently, almost reverently. It was strange how my mind resisted the idea that this was no longer... remains... It was living, somehow. After all these eons, it was alive. The dim eyes shifted, fixed on me. The mouth moved, and the wedge-like shapes ground out their halting syllables and words, but I still could not understand.

How had it gotten the mask?

A crawling thing, with glowing eyes, searching, reaching.

A shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark.

What was happening to me?

I was walking under stars. I was crawling, dragging through the dust. I was standing in front of myself, looking down at myself. I was holding my face in my hands. I was touching an ancient mask in a small, cramped space, and sparks were leaping into me. Its metal was cold against my fingers. The Kanohi are precious, I remembered. They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

It was dark all around. It was roaring. It was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

A metal hand touched me weakly and brought me back to reality. The finger pointed up at the glowing mask atop the pedestal, and I understood. It needed the mask—its personal Kanochus.The mask had activated the shrine, but the circuit was incomplete. It needed the mask back, in order to accomplish whatever purpose it intended. Whatever purpose it had been kept from all those eons ago.

There was a noise on the stairs. Voices murmuring. The thud of metal on stone. How much time had passed? I had lost track. They would be looking for me. Hopefully the rangers had done their work.

“I’m here!” I shouted up. The voices continued. The hand gripped my arm again. The mouth ground out more words.

“I know,” I said.

I stood and pulled the mask off the pedestal. It sparked in my hands, and I felt a charge go through me... or maybe that feeling had already been there, ever since I touched the mask, days ago. Something had been clinging to me. I felt it now. Something intangible, something in my thoughts and my dreams. I had joked about trapped souls to Neisa, but now I wasn’t so sure...

The light increased. I bent toward the body... not just a body—toward the Matoran... and—

A wave of heat rushed down the stairwell, and a burning smell filled the chamber. I froze, and fear surged in my chest as I turned my head to look.

It was the old Skrall. He was standing on the stairs, leaning on his staff. His eyes were sharp behind his mask, and somewhere in the back of my mind it clicked, that although the masks of the Adherents were clearly forged like the one I now held, they were subtly different, like a picture whose original reference had been lost. A copy of a copy of a copy...

“Hold a moment,” the Skrall said urgently. “You stand on sacred ground. Disturb not the machines of the Great Beings.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I stood up and turned around slowly. The Skrall’s eyes widened as he saw what I was holding... and what was slumped behind me.

“That Kanohi...” he hissed, descending another step. “It is meant for the Children of Mata alone. You must give it to me—it is not for you to touch!”

“I’ve already touched it. It has... shown me things. Things I don’t understand.”

The Skrall’s breath hissed in his mask.

“Give it to me, and all shall be restored to unity.”

“It’s not yours. It belongs to... to this one.” I pointed at the Matoran. The dim eyes looked at the wizened elder, but the Skrall averted his gaze.

“This is not in accord with our canons,” he intoned.

“I don’t—”

“Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

I was on a stairway. I was on a great open plain, beneath two suns. My face was covered, but it was not my face. Not anymore. It belonged to someone else.

“You’re wrong.” I held the mask close.

“The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked. Give me the mask.”

The Skrall was not alone now. Another figure moved into the stairwell behind him. A cracked and broken mask, a bruised and bloodied face. More heat poured into the chamber as the Athori Tasius descended, eyes still glowing with fire.

I shrank back to the pedestal, and the lights of the shrine brightened further. The Matoran moved pitifully. We were trapped. The pedestal was humming. Waiting.

Waiting.

The Athori was moving, hindered by the small opening. His armored hand reached out at me, white-hot.

But I had already placed the mask on the Matoran’s face, and the charge that I had felt in my body went out of me... back into the mask, into the Matoran.

And the shrine was blazing white with light, and the pedestal was retracting into the wall. And the Skrall was staggering back onto the stairs, eyes raving. And the Athori was still moving forward, overbalanced, tipping forward into suddenly empty space.

The walls were pulled back and then were gone as the bottom of the shrine became a circular platform and dropped down, down into pitch-black. The stairwell shrank into the distance above us, and I saw the Athori hang for a moment, glowing with heat. Then he fell, whirling like a fiery meteor, right past the edge of the descending platform and away into the greater dark.

Gone.

A few moments passed, maybe longer. I sank down on the platform, exhausted and spent. The Matoran was sitting next to me. It reached out and gripped my shoulder with its metal hand. Its eyes were glowing bright again, and the light in its chest blinked steadily, despite the corrosion and scorch-marks that covered the rest of its body. It looked at me, and its mouth shifted into a different configuration.

I think it was smiling.

Cold air rushed past us as we fell onward, onward into unknown. I don’t know how long we spent in that smooth descent. I looked up and saw nothing above, and nothing on either side. I wondered if I would ever see the surface again, if I would ever have a chance to tell someone. I wondered what was happened or had happened in the camp. I wondered if anyone else but the two Adherents knew what had happened to me, to the mask, to the Matoran...

Except for the light of the platform beneath us, it was dark all around. Featureless, unbroken dark.

“Kuru,” I said aloud, unbidden, remembering the word.

“Ha te ai kuru,” my companion replied, nodding.

I shivered and rubbed my arms.

“Ukuru,” I said.

“Ru,” it replied, standing up. “Ru te aikuru. Akuya.”

The Matoran went to the edge of the platform—too close for my comfort—and pointed out into the surrounding dark.

“Akuya,” it said, and gestured at my... my eyes. My aku. Look. It beckoned me and pointed again. And hesitating, shivering, I rose and went to where it stood, and looked out. And I saw:

Rising up over us, ascending as we descended into the depths of Spherus Magna... Deeper than any excavation could reach, deeper than the catacombs of lost Atero, or the mass tombs of the Glatori hosts, farther and deeper than the silo-vaults of the Great Beings, or the maze-labyrinths of Old Skralla, or the vast mutated seabeds of Old Spherus... Far beyond the reach of Quadrates or Adherencies, of charters or canons...

Past the unknown dark, the aikuru...

There were stars, and two suns rising.

#bionicle #art #writing #fanfiction #works #outofgloom #spherus magna

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dostoyevsky-official · 2 years

Text

gorbachev’s funeral was a solemn affair kept purposefully small by an outsized police presence, ordered there by a regime that wants to distance itself as much as possible from his legacy but which cannot forsake something as momentous as the last general secretary of the ussr. at the same time, those in power hate the people who embrace gorbachev and what he stood for. therefore you have “elements of a state funeral,” a ridiculous amount of police, riot police, plainclothes police, military police, elaborate ways of making sure as few people show up as possible (gorbachev was supposed to lie in state until 2pm, but this was suddenly moved to noon; the burial was closed to the public, but it was actually open). one person was arrested for holding up an anti-war sign. surprisingly, many complained about putin snubbing the funeral due to “scheduling conflicts.” good riddance! who among those present really wanted to see him?

it was something of a quiet protest action against him and the war, even without posters. a pensioner at novodevichy cemetery told me as much: “this is the only way i can protest against what’s going on without getting arrested, and they know it. i couldn’t not take the opportunity.” but what is a protest if it’s sanctioned, quiet, and cordoned off?

at 9:30 am, crowds began to gather at the house of the unions in the city center, where all former soviet leaders were displayed in state. it was both larger than i’d expected and much smaller than i’d hoped for from moscow. from a city of 12 million, there were perhaps a few thousand people all together, many with red carnations. there were several gate systems to the memorial manned by cops who had orders not to let in more than 50 people at a time (i overheard one say so on his walkie-talkie). as with the the funeral procession later on, there was a good showing by the post-soviet generation and those who would’ve been too young to remember much of anything from the gorbachev years; there was also a fair amount of pensioners. the crowd moved fast—the cops didn’t want to let anyone linger for too long in any place—and after three security checkpoints and five gates, i was in the luxurious hall of pillars, though made austere for gorbachev. after seconds of looking at a man who embodied the twentieth century like few others, i was urged to move on as fast as possible. on the way out, a couple behind me, a man and a woman in their 50s, started crying. they were not the only ones.

across the street, a large “we will fulfill our mission” poster, written with the propaganda Zs and Vs, hangs on the scaffolding of the new bolshoi theatre, as if to put a period on what had already ended months, if not years ago. the crowds only became bigger when i left at half past ten. on my way to novodevichy cemetery, i ran into gennady zyuganov, head of russia’s communist party, and asked for a photo—why not. a smaller crowd of CPRF, left front, and other “left” parties gathered for some event near red square. later, i learned that he gave a speech celebrating the end of wwii with the victory over japan. zyuganov said that we must continue the fight and cleanse the earth of nazis, as russia is doing now. this, too, is part of gorby’s legacy, the shattered pieces of a massive, unfinished political project.

a few hours passed before gorbachev’s procession arrived to novodevichy, where the crowd was a bit thinner. i stood next to a young law student in his junior year who skipped his first day of classes to pay respects, chatting with him to pass the time. “how excellent that so many young people showed up,” he said. maybe a third of those gathered was under 30. “if we are here together, it means russia still has a future.” the police moved us around from time to time to “make space.” after finding my way to him again, i noticed he had two carnations instead of four: he gave two to a journalism student and exchanged numbers. a pensioner: “is she your sister? no? watch over her, keep each other safe.”

the procession was headed by a downcast dmitry muratov, a massive portrait of gorbachev in his hands: one nobel peace laureate parting with the other. among those present for the funeral service were ambassadors, including john sullivan from the US, the south korean, french, and german ambassadors, and suzanne massie, a historian who served as advisor to reagan and allegedly introduced him to the russian idiom “trust, but verify,” with pavel palazhchenko, gorbachev’s long-time translator.

after the service, a 21-gun salute, the crowds thronging to the burial by raisa gorbachev’s grave. alexei venediktov (editor-in-chief of the now-dissolved echo of moscow, another glasnost creation) recently talked about how he went to novodevichy with gorbachev around 2010. gorbachev started crying, telling him that all he wanted now was to be buried with raisa. the love he had for her was immense. out of all the biographies and gorbachev/perestroika studies i’ve read, it’s only taubman’s that covers how profoundly he loved her with the space that such a deep, lasting relationship merited.

during the burial: “who do you think is next,” from one pensioner to another, two strangers. “well... you know.” “yes, let’s hope it happens soon.”

a last opportunity to pay respects at a grave heaped, heaped, heaped on with roses and carnations, and then the throngs dissolved. it was the best of who and what you could see in moscow, or, russia’s conscience—what’s left of it—on public display. i have no doubt everyone at the memorial and the cemetery was anti-war. the palpable depression of this crowd was alleviated only by the reinforcing mutual presence of everyone there, a silent solidarity drawn from an organization that hasn’t been seen on the streets since march. you understand what people feel from what’s not said—the looks—the tears—the efforts of men and women in their 80s and 90s to stand for hours, so long as they could say farewell.

the possibility of such organization, reluctantly allowed for the funeral and which was widely admissible in years passed, was the legacy with which we parted today. the defining feature of gorbachev’s rule was openness, glasnost, a gust of fresh air blowing through a hot, humid room, more than economic ideas that were a halfway house for the conditions the soviet state found itself in, and which he didn’t fully understand. yet he opened windows and doors. he returned memory to the people, he allowed memorial to form, he brought sakharov from exile, and yes, he then turned off his microphone during the congress of people’s deputies. gorbachev was a complicated, flawed individual who rose through the ranks of a bloody, ruthless bureaucracy to lead an imperial superpower whose continued survival was his overarching political imperative. he couldn’t have been gandhi. at one point, he nearly killed yeltsin with nothing more than a prolonged party criticism session; he was, directly or indirectly, responsible for the deaths of those on the imperial periphery.

but what could have been instead? nothing is precisely inevitable. had andropov been healthier, the soviet union could’ve been held together to this day by sheer force, or perhaps by prolonged conflict in azerbaijan, or mass-scale repression in the baltics. set in this context, gorbachev leashed the security institutions of the ussr, but didn’t properly dispose of them. thirty years later, his failure is zyuganov’s gleeful speech on denazification, the descent into a fascist society waging genocidal war. his success was thirty years of lost opportunity.

where do we go from here? the feeling of helplessness predominates, resonating through the said and unsaid perception of what could have been and what we have had. the crowd goes home, the opposition stays in jail, the war continues.

#here's the writeup people/mutuals wanted #lithuanian anon: consider this an answer #gorbachev

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rose-pearls · 1 year

Text

The making of Captain Kazansky-Mitchell - Part 3

Summary: a conversation is needed but can everything be resolved?

Previous Part - Next Part

The call had been a surprise, but the reason for the call had made Ice freeze, literally.

“Tom?”, he hears her say, a sob echoes through the phone and Ice wills himself to come back to his body and answer.

“I’m sorry, can you- can you repeat that?”, a sigh on the other end of the line can be heard before she repeats the dreaded words.

“I’m pregnant Tom.”, and just like that his whole world crumbles. He had met her four months ago at a bar and Slider had made him drink far too much. Somehow, he had ended up spending the night with her and they agreed in the morning to never talk to each other again.

“I-I’m four months along and I wasn’t able to get an abortion.”, she continues to ramble, but Ice just feels sick, he wants to throw up, wake up and think that it is all just a dream.

“I can’t keep it, I’m not ready for that.”, the word ‘it’ makes him release a loud sigh, as if it was a simple object to her and not a little kid that if they wanted to or not was going to be there in five months.

“I don’t know what to do.”, she whispers after a moment and Ice doesn’t know it either, Maverick was going to come home any moment now and he was going to have to tell him he was going to have a kid.

“Listen let me think about it and I’ll call you back.”, he tells her but before he can stop the call, she answers him.

“If you don’t want to keep the kid, I’ll put it for adoption.”, she tells him clearly, like it has already been decided and before he can answer she ends the call.

The front door opens and closes but Ice isn’t able to move from his spot, and Maverick finds him there coming up to him with worried eyes.

“Ice?”, Maverick whispers and it’s all it takes for him to start crying, letting Maverick bring him into an embrace and holding onto him for dear life.

They stay like that for a long moment, but Maverick doesn’t seem to mind as he holds him tightly and reassures him. As the sob quietens, he moves them to the couch and Ice takes a moment to breathe normally again.

“Want to talk about it?”, Ice nods slowly and takes a deep breath before looking at a concerned Maverick who takes his hand in his.

“You remember Jess?”, Maverick nods, looking confused at why he is bringing up a hook up that happened before they got together.

“She just called and she-”, he lets out a shuddering breath and Maverick squeezes his hand in reassurance.

“She’s pregnant Mav.”, he says after a moment of silence and Maverick looks at them like he has just grown a second head.

“Wait, what?!”, Maverick nearly yells, and Ice can’t help but nod in agreement.

“She is four months pregnant, so it was too late for an abortion. She called me to know if I wanted to take the baby, otherwise she will put it to adoption.”, Maverick looks stricken at the words ‘adoption’ and Ice knows they bring back bad memories for him.

“What do you think?”, Ice laughs, but there is no real laughter in his tone as it falls flat.

“I – I don’t know. I never thought I would be a father and certainly not this soon. I don’t know if I’m ready.”, he says after a moment and Maverick nods, giving him time to express his feelings.

“I don’t even know if I’ll be a good father.”, he whispers under his breath and Maverick squeezes his hand.

“Hey, don’t say that! You would be a great father and at the end of the day it is your choice but think of that poor kid being put to adoption.”, Ice squeezes his eyes shut at the idea that someone that would be his child would be put as a baby immediately in the system.

“I can’t do it alone.”, he whispers, for once admitting that he isn’t able to do it on his own.

“You don’t have to, I’m right here wingman. And I know this development is quite new but I’m with you and I’ll help you every step of the way.”, Ice smiles at Maverick’s determination and can’t help but kiss him quickly on the lips.

“Imagine a mini you walking around and ordering everyone around.”, Maverick whispers teasingly and Ice can’t help but laugh at the thought.

“Are we really doing this?”, Maverick looks at him with determination and nods.

“Together.”, he says, and Ice let’s out a deep breath and let’s himself enjoy the touch of his boyfriend before having to make the call.

He isn’t sure how everything was going to be, and as the months went by, he started feel more and more unprepared. Until the day Jess’s water broke and they had to go to the hospital to meet baby.

Maverick is ready to enter the room until he sees that Ice isn’t following him, looking at the door with fear in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.”, he whispers softly to Ice and after a moment Ice nods and releases a deep sigh.

“After that there is no turning back.”, he whispers and Maverick nods reassuringly, staying with him until he feels ready.

The room is small as he enters it and in the middle of it is a small bed, as he goes further into the room, he suddenly sees the baby. Judging from the pink blanket it’s a girl and as he arrives just close enough to see her, he feels breathless.

She has the same blue eyes as him, looking up at him questioningly. Soft whisps of light blond hair can be seen and Ice has to stop himself from sobbing at the sight of her. Maverick is by his side and lets out a small gasp at the sight of her.

“She is the spitting image of her father.”, Maverick says in awe and Ice can’t help but let out a chocked laugh.

“She is so small.”, they both look at her before she gurgles and moves her arms towards them.

“Take her.”, Maverick whispers and after a few seconds Ice nods, and slowly takes the baby in his arms.

The moment he looks at her properly, she looks up at him with wide blue eyes, a wide smile appears on her chubby cheeks and Ice can’t help but smile back with tears in his eyes.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m your dad.”, he whispers and softly rubs his finger along her chubby cheek, and she just looks at him like he is her whole world.

“This is your other dad.”, Maverick appears at his side and looks at her from over his shoulder.

“I can’t tell you life will be easy, but I promise you that I’ll do anything to protect you.”, he whispers, and they continue looking at each other before she yawns, and Ice can’t help but melt at the sight of her.

He knows he already told her that he would protect her, but he promises himself to do everything in his power to make his little girl happy no matter what it took.

“Hi.”, he hears her whisper under her breath and Ice tries to calm himself.

He had known, two days ago when a Captain had congratulated him on his daughter’s call sign. It only took a few minutes to find her file and who put it on the top of the pile, Viper.

He knew that Viper had always held his daughter close to his heart, the number of times he took care of her when Ice had to teach a class, but he never thought he would do this.

“Bradley, can you give us a moment?”, he asks, trying to remain calm but it’s getting more and more difficult. The boy squeezes her shoulder before leaving, looking unsure as he does.

A long silence follows after he leaves and Ice doesn’t know what to say, there are far too many things running through his mind. She is looking at him with pleading eyes, filles with guilt but he isn’t sure what she feels guilty for.

“Why?”, he simply asks, unable to ask something else but she just looks down at his question and Ice has to try and calm himself down.

“You know that I don’t like repeating myself and I know you heard me.”, she looks up at his tone and Ice tries to take a deep breath, feeling Maverick’s hand on his arm for reassurance.

“You really need to ask me why? Because it has always been my dream and I didn’t want to give it up just because you didn’t believe in me.”, the accusations cut like a knife and Ice tries not to flinch at the words, but he feels Maverick hands holding him tighter.

“Do not use that tone, we never said that.”, Ice says, and she scoffs at his words, shaking her head.

“You did, and you know it as well as I do. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I decided to do it. You should be glad aunt Sarah talked about it with me-”, Ice can’t help but feel surprised at the words, Sarah, she knew about this.

“Your aunt knew about this, but not us?”, his voice gets louder but he doesn’t care at the moment, and she shakes her head at his words.

“She talked with me the day after our fight, and I told her I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The only thing she told me was to think carefully about it and I did.”, she tells him, but Ice just shakes his head.

“This is dangerous, this is not some playground where you can make a mistake and we talk to your principal.”, she looks stricken at his words before looking at Maverick with wide eyes.

“Don’t look at Mav like this, I’m your father it’s normal that I know that you had a fight with a kid. The only reason you could stay at that school was because we had a good relationship with the principal. But we won’t be able to do this here.”, he tells her harshly and she looks at him with wide eyes.

“I fought with him for a good reason.”

“There is no reason for violence!”, Ice tells her, trying not to yell but he is unable to, she flinches at his tone and Ice tries to take a deep breath.

“This rebellion that you are doing it’s done, you are taking your things and we are going home.”, she shakes her head, looking at him with teary eyes.

“No.”, it’s the first time she tells him that, looking at him with the same blue eyes as him and Ice feels like someone slapped him.

“What?”

“This is not some rebellion; this is something that I want to do. And if you pull my paper, I swear to god you will never see me again. I promise you that, you will lose me.”, Ice feels sick at the words, the worst part is probably the honesty in her eyes.

“I think we all need to calm down, Tom you know that you don’t mean this it’s all of the emotions of the last few days.”, Maverick says, and Ice wants to retort but he just crashes on the chair behind him, taking his head in his hands.

There is a loud silence for a moment before he feels a hand on his arm, and he looks down to see the familiar blue eyes of his daughter.

“I’m sorry I lied.”, she whispers and Ice nods in answer, still looking at her.

“I know you have your reason as to why you don’t want me here but please give me a chance dad. Let me prove myself to you and make you proud.”, he can’t help but swallow hard at the words, seeing himself thirty years ago saying the same words at his father.

He takes her hands in his and looks at her with tears in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, anything you do I’ll be so proud of you. Never doubt that one moment.”, he tells her, and she looks doubtful for a moment, but he smiles lovingly at her and squeezes her hand.

“Your mother had called me the day she found out she was pregnant, and at first, I didn’t know what to do but when I decided to keep you, I was scared for my life. Then I met you, a small bundle of joy, you smiled at me the moment you saw me, and I knew no matter what I would be so proud of you. I also promised myself I would try to be the best father I could be, but maybe I failed there now.”, he can’t help but say, feeling like he has failed her.

“She is not my mother; she will never be even when she came once a year to pretend that she knew me. You were the one there when I scrapped my knees, to eat chocolate cake at three in the morning. You were the one looking at me with pride in your eyes as I did the worst theater play in history of third grade.”, the both of them laugh softly at the memory but Ice feels a tear fall down his cheeks.

“You are my Pops and I love you so much, don’t ever doubt that. Maybe I’m growing up, but I’ll always be your little girl, always trying to become a mini admiral.”, he can only nod at her words as she looks at him with a tearful smile.

“I love you pops, but this is also my dream.”, she whispers and Ice nods at the words.

“I know, I’m sorry that I tried to stop you from living your dreams.”, he tells her softly and she squeezes his hand softly.

“I guess I was just scared of what could happen to you, that I could be losing my little girl.”, she smiles softly at his words and Ice lets out a sigh.

“I know not everything is forgiven but do you think you still have a place left for your ceremony?”, he asks, and a bright smile appears in response.

“I need a partner for the Tapping ceremony and someone to give me my wings.”, she whispers shily, and Ice can only smile.

“Well since we practiced it so much, I guess I need to fill in that role.”, he says teasingly, and her smiles brighten.

“I always hoped it would be you.”, she whispers softly, and Ice can’t help but bring her closer, holding her tightly to him.

“I’m so proud of you.”, she holds him as tight as she is able to before he feels one of her arms leaving the embrace and after a few seconds he feels Maverick joining the embrace.

“I swear you two will kill me one day.”, Maverick says dramatically and the both of them snort at the words.

“Says the man that has issues with every Admiral he meets.”, Ice can’t help but laugh at his daughters’ words before he hears Maverick sputter in disbelief.

Before he knows it Maverick starts tickling the both of them and as they try to escape his attack, they end up on the couch laughing loudly, trying to catch their breaths.

“Not that this isn’t sweet, but we need to get ready for the ceremony." Bradley says and they all turn to see him smiling.

“Coming!”, they all yell and Ice takes Bradley in an embrace before turning to see Maverick and their daughter talking softly and hugging each other tightly.

The ceremony is beautiful and as he taps her on the shoulder during the ceremony, he can’t help but smile proudly at her, forgetting his ice-cold stance for a moment. She salutes him and he can’t help but see her when she was small saluting him.

The wings are given in order and when she finally arrives in front of him, he can’t help but go back to the times they rehearsed this.

“Do you swear to protect the United States of America and the entire nation?”, a younger Ice asks the five-year-old in front of him, that has Maverick’s jacket over her, looking like a robe.

“I swear to do everything in my power to protect the United States of America.”, she continues, and Ice has to blink to realize it’s her again, now eighteen.

The wings are given to him, and Ice takes a deep breath.

Bradley gives him a toothless grin as he takes his wings of the couch pillow and turns towards his little girl, now saluting him.

He clips on the wings and as he looks at her, he sees the small girl that had Maverick’s dress white’s. This time her own wings replacing Ice old ones.

He shakes her hand and tries not to cry before turning himself towards the next student.

She stays with them for the rest of the evening, introducing them to her official WSO and best friend before they take her and Bradley to a restaurant.

The night is spent laughing and they talk about childhood memories, laughing as Maverick retells the night with the Pringles. Bradley leaves to the bathroom for a moment before they hear piano notes.

They turn to find Bradley looking at them with a grin and raised eyebrows.

“So, feeling up for it little sis?”, he teases her and she rolls her eyes before moving towards him as he starts playing the intro to ‘Great Balls of Fire’.

She hears her Pops muttering something under his breath and knows he is trying not to smile.

And if they sing the song as false as they did when they made pancakes Sunday morning, then no one has to know. Well except for the poor old couple that was still there.

Thank you so much for all the comments and messages you send me it made me so happy to see you liked the story! Some of the moments written in here were inspired by @julessworldd who had some incredible ideas!!

Taglist:@craftytrashprincess, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @sherlockstrangewolf

#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #tom iceman kazansky #rooster fanfic #iceman x maverick #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #tom kazansky

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captaincoldzero · 1 year

Text

Ghost | Jason Todd x Male Reader

Fandom: DC Comics

A/N: These days it's been spending too much time on Character.AI so I decided to bring one of the characters and story that I created there in a fanfic.

A/N.2: This time, I made the reader based on Overwatch's Sombra in case you want to go after it or something.

A/N.3: Sorry for any mistake. English is not my first language.

‒ Turn right. ‒ I spoke through Jason's communicator.

Jason and I have been working together for eight months now. After six months, Jason and I decided to pursue a relationship. We've been working together for eight months and the police hate us, but they have good reason.

As I watched the security cameras and the viewfinder on Jason's mask, I kept thinking about our time together. Especially the day we met.

Eight months ago

There was a week that I was in Gotham. Since I erased all records of my existence from the entire system of the world, I haven't been able to do much but wander from city to city, sleeping in dodgy hotels that don't ask for your identity, and eating in restaurants as dodgy as hotels and shacks street vendors who don't look their customers in the face.

The motel room I was in was small, yellow walls with a faded color, a wooden bed with an uncomfortable mattress, a headboard with a lamp that didn't work and a wooden chest of drawers with four drawers. Plus a tiny bathroom with dirty white tiles that were already turning yellow.

I walked over to the mirror so I could look at myself. Wandering around town anonymously made me not look at myself much. But my appearance was a constant reminder of my choices. I was pale, with bags under my eyes and a little thinner than I remember, I wasn't starving, just eating a little less than I was used to.

But what caught the most attention was the metal fiber attached to the side of my head that ran down the back of my neck under the gray shirt I wore. More metal fiber running down my arm to the back of my right hand. I waved my hand in the air and a floating screen appeared in front of me. I started reading the news about the Gotham police and crimes. When I turned to the bed, the screen disappeared into thin air, I grabbed the sweatshirt off the bed and pulled it on, pulling the hood up to hide my head.

I took to the streets of Gotham, trying to remain anonymous in the shadows of the night. The good thing about the city is that people always walk away from you when they think they're going to be mugged.

As I walked down an alley, I heard a scream. A woman was surrounded by five bandits, the middle one with a knife in his hand. I thought for a while before actually moving, to know if I would save her or not. I grabbed my teleportation device and threw it on the floor. He ducked under the middle thief's legs and stopped between them and the woman. They stopped to look at the device from the ground and backed away when I materialized in front of them with a pistol pointed at them.

‒ Did your mother never teach you not to steal? ‒ I asked and noticed two men take their hands to their waists to grab a gun.

I fired a quick shot at the two before they could think. I advanced quickly to the middle, taking advantage of the surprise to take the knife from his hand, and knocking him to the ground, breaking his arm. The other two were running away. I launched the teleportation device, appearing in the blink of an eye at the exit of the alley.

‒ Hello! ' I said, waving my hand.

The men would have run, but I moved in fast and knocked the first one down, shooting the second one in the leg. I gathered the three that were still alive and stuck them in the garbage can. I looked at the woman frozen in place.

‒ Do you want me to let them go or are you going to take the opportunity to go home? ‒ I asked and the woman nodded.

‒ Thanks! ‒ She said before starting to run.

‒ Who are you? ‒ I heard a serious voice and a little distorted behind me.

When she turned me around, she found the famous Red Hood pointing a gun at me. When I saw the weapon, I automatically hacked the weapon to disable it with just my mind, with screens only appearing in my vision.

‒ I'm nobody. ‒ I was serious.

‒ Very funny. ‒ Red Hood said putting his finger on the trigger. ‒ What do you want?

‒ I do not want anything. I'm just passing by.

‒ Why would I believe you?

‒ You have no reason to. ‒ I replied with an arrogant smile.

‒ So I can just kill you? ‒ He asked starting to press the trigger.

‒ We can make a deal. ‒ I said and noticed Red Hood's finger relax a little.

‒ I'm listening.

‒ I can help you and you can help me. I can hack any system with my mind and I don't have the ethics of a superhero. ‒ I said seriously still with the arrogant smile.

‒ And what do you want in return? ‒ Red Hood asked without lowering his weapon.

‒ Motivation. And I know that doing only good things doesn't challenge my potential. ‒ I spoke sincerely.

‒ I'm not a villain. I may be a criminal, but I'm not a villain. ‒ Hood spoke by pressing his finger a little more.

‒ I do not intend to be a villain and I know that you are not one either. That's why you are perfect to be my partner or be my boss, whatever you want to call it. ‒ I said with a less arrogant smile.

‒ How can I believe that you really can do this? ‒ Red Hood asked and his trigger finger relaxed a little.

‒ This whole time your gun is pointed at me, it's disabled. ‒ I said raising an eyebrow.

Red Hood squeezed the trigger, but the gun didn't fire. He looked at the pistol a little confused but then he looked at me. Hood holstered his pistol and crossed his arms.

‒ You know that if you work with me you will become a criminal, right? ‒ Hood asked seriously.

‒ Know. ‒ I said carefree. ‒ But that doesn't scare me.

‒ Come with me, if you try anything funny I'll kill you. ‒ Red Hood said turning around and climbing to the roof of the building. I followed Red Hood and we met at the top.

‒ Follow me. ‒ He spoke in a challenging tone.

Red Hood ran and jumped from one roof to another. I could keep up with Red Hood no problem. I manipulated information from my leg muscles to be able to run and jump with great agility.

In the end, he stopped at the edge of a building and looked at me.

‒ Very good. ‒ Red Hood spoke and looked ahead.

We were looking at a small laboratory. I had already heard rumors about criminal activities that were connected to that construction.

‒ What is the plan? ‒ I asked Red Hood.

‒ I'm going to go in and blow up the place. ‒ He spoke and I realized that the place was protected by men with huge weapons.

‒ When they see you approaching, they will shoot. ‒ I said looking at the place.

‒ This is where you enter. ‒ Red Hood spoke arrogantly.

I sat on the edge of the building we were in and opened a floating screen in front of me. From that distance I could hack the place to gain access to the cameras and security system.

‒ Is this their security? ‒ I asked rhetorically while easily hacking the building.

‒ Can you turn off the security system? ‒ Red Hood asked.

‒ I can do much more than that. ‒ I said making a keyboard hologram appear floating in front of the floating screen.

‒ What can you turn off? ‒ Red Hood said watching me type on the floating keyboard.

‒ All. ‒ replied confidently.

On my floating screen a kind of button appeared.

‒ When you want. ‒ I told the Red Hood.

‒ Now. ‒ He said jumping towards the building.

I pressed the button and the entire building shut down, going completely dark. Jason appeared from the shadows and took down two guards. When I noticed a few more approaching, I launched my teleportation device and appeared between the two new guards. I used their surprise so I could take them down with ease.

‒ I admit... impressive. ‒ Hood spoke to me and ran into the building.

I led the way with the plant image in my view. Hood shot some guys and I kept doing my teleportation and invisibility tricks to take down and shoot guys without them understanding where I was coming from.

We continue advancing to the lowest floor in the basement of the building. Where illegal stuff was produced.

‒ There's a lot of drugs in here. ‒ I said looking at the boxes.

‒ And we will stop their production. ‒ Hood said putting a bomb in the biggest machine in the room.

‒ You know they're going to keep producing somewhere else, right? ‒ I asked approaching Hood.

‒ I know, but I'm going to burn the other places too. ‒ Hood set the bomb.

‒ Consistency. ‒ I said as the Hood started to run outside.

I threw my teleportation device which stuck to Red Hood's back. I put my hand on the machine, using my powers to analyze the complements and destroy what I could so that if I survived the explosion, it would be useless.

When the counter showed just two seconds, I disappeared from there and appeared beside Hood, just as the basement exploded and the building went up in flames.

‒ I was already wondering if you really existed. ‒ Hood said jokingly when he noticed that I appeared beside him.

‒ We can say that I am like a Phantom. ‒ I said laughing.

‒ Phantom. I liked. I will call you Phantom. You appear and reappear out of nowhere, moving in the shadows. Like a ghost. ‒ Hood said looking at me.

We hear sirens approaching. Hood grabbed my wrist and started leading me through the streets until I stopped in an alley. There was something under a dark sheet, when Hood took it off, there was a motorcycle ready to be used.

‒ Should we put robbery on that night or is it yours? ‒ I asked sarcastically.

Red Hood climbed onto the bike and started it. He climbed in with him and the Hood accelerated with the bike.

‒ Let's make this trip more fun. ‒ I said and took my hand to the bike.

The motorcycle glowed in a purple light and when the light disappeared, it started to increase speed to abnormal levels.

‒ How did you do it? ‒ Hood shouted because of the wind.

‒ A small improvement. But it's temporary.

Hood continued riding the bike until we left town and stopped at an abandoned gas station. We both got off the bike and entered the place.

‒ Thank you for your help. ‒ Red Hood said going to the balcony that of the place that was once a convenience store.

‒ It was fun. ‒ I said looking at the place with the lights off.

The Hood grabbed a suitcase from under the counter, full of cash. He picked up a huge cake and handed it to me.

‒ That it? ‒ I asked confused.

‒ Your payment for today's work. ‒ Red Hood replied without hesitation.

‒ You can stay. I do not want money. ‒ I answered simplistic.

‒ Don't you want money? Who doesn't want money? ‒ Hood asked confused.

‒ I. What would a 'Ghost' do with money? ‒ I said laughing.

‒ Why do you keep saying you're a nobody? ‒ Jason asked curiously, putting the money in the bag.

‒ I deleted any record about myself in the system. I have no birth certificate, ID or any valid identification. To the world, I don't exist. I'm a ghost. ‒ I explained seriously.

‒ So you want to work for me, Phantom? Since you have nothing else to do? ‒ Red Hood asked.

‒ Who says I have nothing to do? ‒ I asked pretending to be offended. ‒ But I want to work WITH you. Just for the fun and the challenge. You can keep the money.

Red Hood took off the helmet he was wearing and looked at me. I'm sure my face flushed when I looked at him without the helmet for the first time.

‒ Jason Todd. ‒ He said extending his hand.

‒ I'm nobody... but I was known as Y/N. ‒ I said shaking Jason's hand.

Now

‒ Where to, Ghost? Jason asked when he noticed I was silent.

‒ Right, sorry. ‒ I said turning my attention to the mission.

‒ Everything is fine? You never get distracted. ‒ Jason asked worriedly.

‒ Yes, go ahead.

And since that day, Jason and I have been working together. The name Ghost became known and attached to the Red Hood, but I didn't care. What mattered was that I had a motivation and someone who believed in my existence.

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