#like the tide pulling sand from under your feet

[zmediaoutlet]

abandoned(?) wip: the cult fic

Here's one that I really really really want to write because it was for a charity run and it is NOT the fault of the fic or the donator that I got hit with a depression meteor, nor indeed that somehow it was 'easier' to write a bunch of other fics instead of the charity fics that I still owe!! Ugh. The self is a real garbage pit sometimes. So hopefully let's call this one dormant and not abandoned, and so --

Big Idea: which isn't mine, bc charity fic as aforementioned, but -- Jared runs a cult and Jensen joins and there's lots of sexy sex. Pretty much. :) But because it's a cult fic, I really wanted to dive into that, which required plot [spits on floor], and it's really more now about like... lost youth getting wrapped up into a personality & lifestyle just for somewhere to belong. Like cult stories always go. It's an unusual fic for me in that I'd normally never do ageswap (even with J2 -- I prefer to keep them as is) and I don't actually have much interest in irl cults, but it's interesting as a stretch in that sense.

Why it was abandoned: because plot!!! Ugh. Plot is the worst, idk how people are like 'ooh I wanna get all involved in this murder mystery'. Yack. But if it's gonna have a plot it's got to work, and it also has to have a bunch of legible and interesting and not-quirky-stand-in characters -- like I want it to read like actual humans, not goofy nonsense a la the cult in Bad Times at the El Royale. So that requires some genuine thought and time put in and probably even a chart, and... #lazy writer noises. But I have some random scenes I think might be good already planned. Trouble would be if I could make Jared-the-cult-leader seem believable and not just like a doofy romance novel figure. My personal trouble with cults is that whenever someone's holding themselves up as a leader because of whatever mystical whatever I'm like, this motherfucker? Are y'all kidding? So I'll have to get over that instinct, lol.

Snippet:

"He renamed it when we came," Allie says, easy. She taps her thumb on the steering wheel, smiling. "He said Wildheart was more right, for what we were going to be." Jensen nods but he has no idea what that means. Whatever the name was before, the wild part at least is right. His grandpa had a farm, outside Dallas, and that was all neat rows, trimmed up hedges, smoothed-out roads with everything exactly in place. Jensen didn't mind it—driving it was easier, he thinks, as they're jolted by the Volkswagen rocking over yet another huge tree root—but it was… Well, it doesn't matter. He'll never see that farm again. He's about to ask another question when Allie turns, again, and the screen of oaks gives sudden way to—open air, a field. The sky opens up above them and Jensen leans forward, trying to see everything. They're on a dirt drive and there are—people, young, maybe his age or maybe Allie's, on the grounds on either side of the drive, working squared-off garden plots—tomatoes, in chickenwire cages. More that Jensen doesn't recognize as they roll past. A boy with red hair waves at the car and Allie waves back, grinning. "Good to be home," she says, to Jensen. Home, Jensen thinks, and chews his thumbnail, scanning the grounds. A medium-sized house, at the end of the lane, painted a faded yellow that needs redoing. On the west side of the house Allie pulls the Volkswagen up next to a purple Gremlin with messy handpainted yellow flowers on the rear hatch, a Cadillac with a rusted-out door and some kind of viney plant spilling out of the broken back window. "C'mon," Allie says, turning off the engine, so Jensen takes a deep breath and gets out of the car into the sunshine, holding his duffle up against his chest, looking around. No one's running up to bug them—the dozen people gardening are still gardening, down by the lane—and Allie flips her keys into her palm, comes around the hood of the car, touches his arm, soft. "Nothing be scared of, sweetie," she says, quiet even though it's just the two of them, and Jensen—believes her. He has to. He wouldn't have gotten into her car, otherwise.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)

...

You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.

You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.

Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.

Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."

This is a nightmare. A hallucination.

"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."

"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"

"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.

"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."

"You bit me!"

"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."

"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."

⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇

You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.

There’s nowhere to go.

Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"

"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.

Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.

Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.

The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.

He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.

"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.

You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.

Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”

Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."

You make it up another two footholds before you slip.

Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.

You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.

Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."

You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?

"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"

"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."

"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"

You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"

"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”

Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"

Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.

He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.

"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."

You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...

Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"

You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."

You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.

Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"

Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."

You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.

You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.

He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.

Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?

Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.

You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.

"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.

"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."

You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"

Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.

At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."

“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.

At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.

Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"

You huff. "When I can, clearly."

He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."

"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.

"Then how d'you catch food?"

"I don't have to catch my food."

"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."

"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.

"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."

"If that's even possible," Gaz says.

You scowl. Rude.

Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."

"Watch it."

A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"

"Maybe."

"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."

You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.

Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.

"We both have bones.”

"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.

He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.

Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.

"My thigh is like a seal?"

"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.

You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.

Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.

You grab his hands. "Hey!"

He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”

"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.

"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"

You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."

A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."

"Absolutely not."

"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."

“Let us in,” Gaz says.

“No.”

"Not even me?" he asks.

"No."

They both frown.

"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"

You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"

"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"

Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."

"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."

He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.

Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"

You cross your arms. "None of your business."

"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.

“I didn't say that.”

"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.

All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"

Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”

"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"

Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.

Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."

"But it's morning!"

"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."

"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.

"It will,” Gaz agrees.

You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.

A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”

You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.

Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"

"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

[sansuri]

𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 | 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

Arranged marriage | gojo x indifferent!wife | MDNI

WARNINGS: 1.3k, you guys have a child together, reader is wearing a sundress, subtle suggestive thoughts, infidelity

Synopsis: Gojo’s little family takes a trip to the beach collecting sea glass. Maybe this time, Gojo might finally get that kiss he’s wanted?

Prev: His Wife

—————————————————————————————

“Satoru, bend down for me.”

Gojo looks at you, a bit of surprise is laced over his face as he bends down to your level, waiting curiously of what you were going to do. You softly move a piece of stray hair out of his face, smoothing out the flyways of his hair, a result of the ocean wind riling it up. A soft crimson tints his handsome face and ears.

God, did he feel like the biggest asshole for this whole predicament. You didn’t deserve any of what he was doing, even if you weren’t aware of the greatest sin he was committing, yet here you were, innocently standing there, oblivious to all the wrongdoings he had done, especially to you as your husband.

Did you know that just days earlier, he was fucking the maid in the room next to yours? “Fuck,” he cursed himself under his breath. He really was a dick in this marriage. You were nothing but a perfect wife for him, yet Gojo was anything but perfect for you.

“There,” you say softly, taking a step back to gaze at the appearance of your husband. It was quite a shame that his handsome face was ruined by his brash behavior. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have been so hard to like.

Your focus is shifted back to your child, who happily babbles at the feeling of sand between his toes, picking up shells as he stomps happily within the puddles of the tide pools. Your baby was a perfect mixture of you and Gojo, taking on your husband’s playful nature, while also having your kindhearted and quiet nature.

Although you paid no mind to your husband watching you from afar, the sight of you made him feel warm within his chest, a fluttering sensation at the sight of your look today. He grew to adore the sight of his family, especially you, yet you continued to have no interest in him but your shared child.

Nonetheless, Gojo had to admit that you were quite the scene at the beach. Your sundress fit on your curves beautifully, flowing gently in the ocean breeze as it hugged around your bosom elegantly, making any sane man grovel at the sight.

Gojo smoothly wraps an arm around your waist as you follow your child, noticing the way your body tenses at his touch. The white haired man is an observant husband of course, noticing just how your body reacts to his touch, even when in bed. However, he pouts silently at your reaction, lingering his hand on your waist, in hopes of still being physically connected with you somehow.

Your child distracts Gojo with a hermit crab, picking it up and gurgling as he shows both you and Satoru the crab crawling on his chubby hand. You silently gasp, smiling as the sweet boy gently places the hermit crab down, tugging at his father’s sleeve to show his dad where he put the tiny crab back. Satoru grins at his son, “yeah?” He says in his husky voice, one that has women crawling at his feet, but you seemed to have been an exception.

“Why don’t you go find a pretty sea glass for your mom next?” He chuckles softly, nudging his son to send him off on his next adventure. His son nods excitedly, already tottering to his next mission. You eye Satoru, that look of “really?” on your face as your son wobbles off further in front of you, adamantly glaring at the sand in hopes of finding that pretty sea glass you seemed to adore more than your husband.

Gojo smirks, nodding as he watches his son trail in front of him. “I want some alone time with my wife.” He says nonchalantly, a smile still on his face, pulling you closer by the waist, leaning forward to place a kiss on your pretty lips, but yet again, you turn your face quite casually, his incoming kiss landing on the corner of your lips instead.

A look of sadness, masked by a half-hearted smile appears on his face. He nudges his face in your neck, sighing softly at your avoidance.

“You make this so hard sweetheart.” He breathes softly on your neck, sounding desperate, nipping at the tenderness of your skin there. Your breath hitches subtly, one that Gojo relishes in silently. What would you look like if you let him mark you up there? Would you release those pretty little sighs and whines? You allowed him to mark you in the lower region between your thighs, but why not up? He wanted a way to show that your intimacy was of existence even after the moment, one that even your thin sundress couldn’t cover.

Even so, you ignored his comment, placing your hands on his chest as a way of distancing yourself from him. “Behave.” You tell him with a gentle sternness in your voice, clearly trying to avoid the affections of your husband. The women on the beach otherwise find the scene to be of a loving husband and wife, admiring the sweetness of your husband. You and Satoru were far from lovers, well one-sided lovers at least.

Just then, your son tugs on the chiffon of your dress, his small hand lifting a single piece of worn down glass from the waves of the sea. You marvel at the piece of white sea glass in his hand. There may have been an abundance of sea glass on the beach, but this was one that your precious child had found. One that you would treasure as a memory piece.

“Awe, Naoki.” You bent down to the level of your son. “I love it.” You pet the fluffy hair of your son, placing a motherly kiss on his cheek, one that he relishes in happily, giggling.

Gojo watches the sight unfold, wishing silently that you were open to giving him kisses as you were to your son. He watches in silent envy, ruffling the head of his son, a smile of “good job” on his father’s face.

Naoki continues to pick sea glass, kneeling down in the sand to carefully seek for anything buffed and smoothed by the sea. You remain watching, crouching down to fetch a shell that caught your sight. While you were distracted, Naoki tugs on his father’s pants. Satoru was enamored, watching your figure marvel at the sight of the newfound shell, eyes widening at the tug of his son, quickly turning his attention to the toddler’s hand that held a piece of pink sea glass.

His son places the pink piece of glass in his hand, gesturing towards his mother, who remained fixed on the shell. Gojo instantly connected the dots, understanding that his son wanted him to bring it to his mother. He smiles affectionately, ruffling the head of his son again. What a smart boy.

Gojo, almost too excitedly, closes the distance between you two, waiting patiently for you to notice that he was holding something for you. Attentive as you are, you stand back up, looking curiously at your husband’s puppyish look.

He opens the palm of his hand, revealing the pink sea glass. Your eyes widen ever so subtly, your hand reaching to lift the piece up to the skyline to admire its color. “Pink sea glass is rare to come by.” There’s a soft smile on your face, one that Gojo can’t help but reciprocate the same genuine smile back.

“Do I get a kiss now?” He asks innocently, a genuine tone lacing his voice, asking silently in fear of being rejected.

Your eyes have a subtle hesitance, quickly recovering as you place the sea glass in the tiny baggie of yours, complying and gently grabbing your husband’s face, which he happily envelops your waist with his hands, leaning closer to make easy access for you. You gently place a chaste kiss on his lips, to which he hums softly into, relishing in the feel of your soft and gentle lips. Your touch was addicting, and Gojo could only hope for this to happen more often. Would you some day eventually kiss him everyday like you meant it? Genuinely? Like true husband and wife?

“Thank you.” You say quietly, almost afraid of disturbing your initial peace.

Even after separating, Gojo can’t seem to have enough of you, and there’s a clear look of lust on his face. God, was he so far deep in this.

“Of course sweetheart.” He lifts your face once more, placing another gentle kiss on your soft lips.

And this time, you let him. Just this once.

[hoshigray]

OMG I LOVE YOU TOJI AND SUKANA BOOKS CAN YOU MAKE A FLUFF ONE LIKE THEM GOING TO THE BEACH OR CUDDLING

⊹ ࣪ ˖ CUDDLE ME BY THE BEACH .ᐟ

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: how about them cuddling BY the beach??! :33

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji + true form! Sukuna x afab/fem! reader - fluff - cuddles! - swimming - pet names (baby, little dove, princess, woman, sweetie) - a beach weekend w/ tojikuna, aww :D - kuna being a teeny bit protective - humor.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

“Ya wanna go back?”

“Hmm?” 

He points to the ocean with his chin. “Fr’ another swim?”

The summer heat was getting worse and worse to avoid, unbearable for the workers within your vicinity as they complained and fanned themselves behind you and your spouses’ backs. You are also a victim, constantly cooping inside your room and removing layers of clothing to let your sweaty body breathe under the increasingly scorching heat.

That’s where you had the brilliant plan to have a bit of a getaway with you and your partners! When they’re not by your side, Sukuna and Toji are busy with matters of their own inside or outside the palace walls. So, you brought up the idea of going outside and enjoying the sun a bit, knowing there is a beach near the fortress. On that note, you begged the men one night that you three spend a weekend dedicated to the beach. And your heart sprung with joy when they nonchalantly agreed.

That’s where you are now, lying on a towel underneath the shade of a tent. You sit with Toji, lying on his side with his chest to your back, rubbing his hand on your waist. The sea breeze feels good to your skin exposed from your swimsuit, and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore is so therapeutic to the ear that you could drift to sleep as your head is rested comfortably on the towel.

You hum. “I’d like to, but the water’s so cold.”

The raven-headed man gently pinches the flesh of your hips. “It’ll be warmer when y’re in the water.”

“And Sukuna said I shouldn’t be in while he’s gone; the waves are getting bigger with the tide.”

“Mmm.” He hums to the point of his mentioned partner. “True, they are getting a lil’ intense.” Toji brings his lips to kiss your temple, an action you smile subconsciously at. “But they’ll get worse in the next hour or so.”

You nod aimlessly despite your following words. “Sukuna warned us.”

“He did,” he comes to your ear. “But ya think I’m one to listen?” His chuckles-so gruff and baritone-chain reacts to a giggle of your own, shaking your head. “Besides, ya got me here, not gonna let the sea take my baby ‘way from me.” 

“You say that even though you threw me into the ocean after chasing me down once we got here. Didn’t mind the sea having me then, huh.” 

“…Debatable.” Chortles from the man transition to guttural laughs when you nudge him with your elbow, and more loving kneads to your hip is caused. You shift your face to peek at him over your shoulder. “Serious, though,” a kiss to your nose. “Just a few minutes, then we’ll head back and meet up with ‘Kuna, ‘kay?”

You blink slowly, eyes locked with the patient emerald orbs that effortlessly draw you in. A sigh leaves your nostrils, yet it’s not heavy, and you give Toji a gentle peck; the soft noise of your lips departing is heard despite the crashing waves. You bat your eyes, “Don’t blame me when you-know-who comes out of nowhere to drag us out.“

“Damn, that’s exactly what I planned to do,” you roll your eyes while he smirks and straightens up. “C’mon, sweetie, while the sun is still up.”

You take his outstretched hand and pull yourself up from the settled towel, walking with your husband to exit the shade and embrace the sun’s rays basking upon you. You smile as you swing the intertwined hands, the sand under your feet nice and cool to the soles. 

It then becomes cold and rigid as you two appear close to the waves meeting the earthy surface, the white foam of the calm water meeting your toes before they’re drawn back. You and Toji keep going, shivering from the contact of the water meeting your ankles, calves, and knees. And Toji’s hand doesn’t let go throughout the descent. 

The waves are much more prominent than earlier, their height a tad taller and coming in an eager frequency. So you brace yourself and wait for Toji to throw you under them at the perfect moment.

And once he nods, the two of you inch closer and prepare for the upcoming wave for you to submerge within.

You give yourself a count. One…two… The wave is mere seconds away from hitting you. Thre—

Until your view that was once full of the pretty blue sky and the towering water was now…a shoji frame of an oceanview from afar? 

The sea that was close and touching you seconds ago is now a mile away, seen down below as if where you are is atop a hill or cliff. Not to mention, your feet were not touching the sand anymore. If anything, they were…dangling in the air? And from what it looks like, aren’t you in someone’s room?

“Ahem.”

It all didn’t click until you heard him — a voice of the same recognizable caliber as Toji. There was only one way you could’ve been transported from the beach to a room within literal milliseconds, a way that only your husbands could easily do: speed faster than the human eye can keep up with. Eyes sail away from the picture of the ocean and find yourself in what appears to be your shared room of the fortress. And what you see next is none other than the other husband you share this room with. 

Sukuna holds you in bridal style, your back and shoulders situated comfortably by his upper left arm as the upper right holds your wet legs afloat. The humongous, cursed man has you to his bare chest, which peaks through a casual yukata. His warmth heated your cold side, wet from the water.

You blink with surprise. “Sukuna!”

“Woman.” Of course, he’d call you that; you gulped under his crimson eyes. “You heard me the first time,” you nod cautiously. “And you still dare to disobey after my warning.”

“My apologies, my King,” you hoped using his nickname would help lessen the tension—it didn’t, the salmon-headed giant narrowing his gaze. “We thought you were napping—”

“So what, you think just because I’m not physically seen, you’re allowed not to heed my caution?” Jesus, you felt like you were shrinking on his grasp as he went on. “I tell you not to do something for your sake, and I watch you do the exact opposite.” Your lips flatten with every word, quivering under the shadow of being scolded like a child!

But then, “Relax, ‘Kuna,” you and Sukuna look down to the right side of him, seeing there was Toji, held by the lower right arm like a sack of potatoes. “It was my idea to take them fr’ a few more minutes, so let ’em slide.”

“And just why would you do that?” Sukuna’s brows trench even lower. “Have you both gone deaf?”

“Ahh shut up; we’re on a lil’ vacation, and vacation means lighten up on the strict shit.” Toji lectures back to his partner. “We’re relaxing this weekend because of the princess y’re scoldin’, tryin’ to enjoy this heat with the water right there. So cut them some slack, will ya.”

“The only slack I should be cutting is you; did you forget I was with you two earlier when you threw this one into the waves?”

“No, but if my memory is right, I can recall y’r big ass throwin’ them further than I did once they swam back to shore.”You titter faintly at the recollection; however, the smile is wiped clean off your face when Sukuna’s lower left eye snaps back to you. “As I said, it was only gonna be fr’ a few minutes, and then we’d head back; waves don’t get too bad until the next hour. Plus, it was all my idea, so don’t go yellin’ at my baby fr’ nothin’.”

Sukuna looks at Toji for a few seconds in silence before he turns to trap you in his stare once more. You can only chew your lip before giving the behemoth a tiny smile, nothing too bold, as he’s still uptight. The only sound to pass the time was the wind chime by the open shoji door, the wind pushing the item to sing in a pleasing tune.

Seconds feel like minutes until you see the cursed being roll his eyes with a heavy groan—yes, all four maroon orbs—before he drops Toji to the tatami flooring. He was, again, treated as a sack of potatoes, unlike when Sukuna descends you down to depart gently like a feather. Weighty footsteps go to one side of the room to slide the closet door, and he throws two folded towels and yukatas robes at his spouses. “Change,” it wasn’t a request. “Or catch a cold, whichever conveniences you.” 

You and Toji follow his commands and switch from your swimmer to after drying your bodies, changing into the yukatas and hanging your wet clothes to dry. 

Sukuna follows you to the veranda strip of the shared bedroom, where you sit under the shade, and the view of the stunning sea is visible. You yelp at the pull of him, his powerful lower left hand sliding your sitting figure closer to him. “Rest here,” another command as he stretches his arm. “Since you want to disrupt my sleep.”You don’t complain, complying as you rest your head on his arm while the right arms pull you in for his chest to meet your back. 

“‘Scuse me, comin’ through,” Toji enters the veranda, walking to where you two are and taking a seat. Sukuna notices the onyx-haired man and uses his lap as a pillow to rest his colossal head. Toji scoffs at his gigantic partner, placing his hand in the pink hair to pet around; the cursed man purring to the touch, and the vibration soothes your frame. “Guess you do know how to relax, huh?”

Sukuna opens one eye. “Disobey me again, and we’ll see how far I can chuck you two to the seafloor.”

“Tough love,” Toji sneers as he pours sake to drink. “Can you believe him, princess?”

You chuckle as you’re pulled intimately into Sukuna’s warmth. “Rest, little dove,” he whispers to your ear, like a spell that has you sighing with the wind caressing your skin, waves gently crashing out, and the song of the wind chime submits your eyelids to a close. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[shibaraki]

A FISH OUT OF WATER ┊ MIYA ATSUMU

synopsis: you are his constant in a life shaped by an ever changing element. he wants you. but you are the most oblivious creature he has ever met.

tags: GN reader, merfolk au, merman atsumu, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, falling in love, courting behaviours, obliviousness, cultural differences, first kisses, getting together

wc: 3.5K

↱ written for the mermay collab hosted by the teahouse server ↲

As a child Atsumu never understood other finfolks fascination with humans, good or bad. Ma was never reluctant to explain, rather, he just didn’t care to ask. There were far more important things to do in the reef. Like hunting shelled crabs, riding the currents, and eating oysters so he could spit pearls at his brother's head until he gave chase.

But three moons before his twelfth birthday, he found you.

Suspended in the water, bubbles dwindling around your frame as the fight bled from your muscles. You sank into a lifeless repose. A human. Small, smaller than him. Thoughts whirring to a stop, his mind blanked, and his tail propelled him forward in a blink.

You were light in his arms at first. Breaching the surface had been the scary part. Worse then, as he needed to drag you up onto the shore where he could be seen. The section of beach close by was secluded. Shielded by large rocks, tide pools formed in the crevices. Atsumu deposited you onto the sand, hissing at the tides that crawled behind and splashed at your chin as if to scold them.

You convulsed and curled in onto yourself like the tiny dumbo octopus that lived in the crevasse near his home. Water spurted from your nose and mouth. It gathered in the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. Atsumu stared as you wailed and felt his own tumultuous emotions swell dramatically. Restless under his skin was the urge to calm you. To comfort you. But he had never been any good at that kind of thing.

So he reached out to pat your leg. It was covered in clumps of sand. Your shorts and shirt were drenched, and one of your feet had lost a flip flop. Then he repeated what Ma always told him, “Don’t worry, guppy. I’m here”.

That distracted you enough that your attention fell on him. Your immediate petrified screech reverberated harshly in his sensitive ears, both pressed flat to his head as he hissed and squirmed further back into the ocean to escape the sound.

“A—A monster! Get away!”

An odd sense of vulnerability washed over him. Embarrassment, shame, anger. At that moment, Atsumu decided all his assumptions must have been correct. You were clearly a few fish short of a shoal. “M’not a monster,” he’d shouted back, fins flared irritably. “Be grateful I saved yer life, Ugly! Ugly, ugly, ugly!”

Your face scrunched up at the insults, covered in salt water, tears and bile. A dull ache struck against his skull, hard and sudden. You had kicked him in the head and ran away.

Osamu laughed at the mark upon his return. Atsumu endured, kept his mouth shut and resolved never to go back to the surface. Ever! But curiosity still drew him back the next morning. And the next. Every day he checked, you were there, standing awkwardly on the beach and squinting at the horizon. Searching.

Ma’s voice echoed through his thoughts while he hid from view. Atsumu was great at lots of things. Loads better than Osamu. Racing, hunting, splitting shells, tying knots, playing ball. Not so great at making friends. Try to meet ‘em where they’re at, she said. Smile. Be nice. Find what they like and ask about it.

When he finally plucked the courage to make his presence known you’d been back in the tide pools. The ends of your shirt pulled out to hold all the shells you were collecting, heavily weighing on the wet fabric. A few tumbled down as you crouched to pick up a limpet, mouth curling into a pleased grin. Limpets are boring, he thought. And an idea struck.

Diving lower, Atsumu combed through the sand and seaweed until he spotted an iridescent spiral of orange and purple. The snail went helplessly as he clasped it between his webbed fingers, shooting for the rocks. You were still there, filling the silence with a directionless hum.

Atsumu broke the surface quietly. Enough distance between that you could not kick him again. “Hey!” he called, hands thrusted out toward you, head already turned toward his shoulder to brace for another scream. “Got a snail. Wanna see?”

Nothing came. He hadn’t realised how much your acceptance meant to him until then—when you crouched excitedly close by, unheeding of the tide soaking you further, and gasped as he presented the gift. Relief burst in his chest, warm and tingly to the tips of his fins at the careful prodding of your fingers to the creature in his palms; so intense that a wave of luminescence washed through his scales.

“I was looking for you,” you later admitted, voice softened in apology. “Thank you for saving me. I’m sorry I kicked you and called you mean things”.

Atsumu detailed the slight pout to your lips. Knees shifting in the sand. Eyes wide, gleaming hopefully as you waited for his reply. Something fluttered in his stomach the longer you looked at him. Horrified, the longer he looked back, the more it dawned on him that you were not ugly at all.

“Good. So y’should be,” he grumbled, smacking his tail up onto the shore. Heat blotched across his cheeks when you glanced at it in awe. Timid, he added, “…S’fine though. Didn’t hurt”.

Smiling gleefully at that as his gaze darted back and forth, you held out your pinky and promised to always be his friend.

Time elapsed. Seasons passed. No longer a juvenile, his colours started to come into full bloom. Rich gold around his hips and waist, tapering into black toward his large ruffled tail fin. Even his hair lightened as he took to adulthood. After his twentieth birthday the months seemed to come and go faster than he liked. You were his one constant in a life shaped by an ever changing element. Atsumu’s blatant affection for you remained his worst kept secret but none of the finfolk scorned him for it.

Osamu’s steadfast teasing was the only downside. Offhanded or feigning disinterest, he’d always ask, “What d’you keep doing up there?”

Atsumu bounced a hard clam off his brother’s thick skull, “Nothin’. Told’ya a million times, I just like the surface”.

“Uh-huh. Does the ‘surface’ in question happen ta’ have a name and a pulse?”

“You’ll soon have neither if you don’t shut yer trap, ‘Samu!”

Summer comes along and once again, Atsumu decides to remain in the reef. There’s a new den for him in the alcove, carved out from the outcropping of rock with his own hands, right next to a dense forest of kelp. The afternoon sun filters through it in rays as the currents shift, dewy light dancing on the walls.

Two years he has been eligible to migrate and find a mate. This will make it his second absence from the celebrations. Ma never pushed him despite the worry written plain on her face. Osamu only pinned him with a knowing look as he went. It will be the longest they’ve been apart from one another and he doesn’t like it.

Realistically he still could have attended—should have, maybe, lest the other pods find his refusal disrespectful. But Astumu had no compulsion to go. The very idea of leaving you threw his instincts into high gear and he needed to race the currents just to calm the urgency wracking his bones. Because somewhere amidst the years spent with you he became aware of the voice clamoring in the back of his head. One that had been growing in intensity for some time, but hadn't been quite as loud as it was until the elders advised him to take a partner.

You were his mate.

Atsumu had been subconsciously courting you since you were children. Bringing you food and gifts, letting his display scales flash lurid in your presence. He kept guard as you slept on the sand, picked the seaweed and dirt from your hair, swam in synchrony with you when the tides were calm, wrapping your legs around his tail until you become a knot of a person. In hindsight, it was embarrassingly obvious—

Yet you are still blissfully oblivious to it, and that nags at him like nothing else.

Raking claw tipped fingers through his hair, Atsumu paces the length of his den with thoughts of how to be more deliberate in his courtship. Human relationships were complex—purposefully difficult, in some cases. You might respond better if he simply confessed what his intentions were.

You’ve promised to come by the cove as soon as you’re free today. Adulthood came with plenty of changes for you as well as him. You have to work more than he likes. It means less time together; hours spent with other people, any of which could stake their own claim and take you from his reach.

Agitated, Atsumu darts to the surface the instant the sky settles into evening. The sun spreads a blush across the ocean’s surface, tepid but pleasant when it kisses his cheeks. Your distant figure is climbing over the rock formations with careful movements. At first he lingers in the deeper water, submerged below the nose to watch like he used to all those years ago.

“‘Tsumu!” arms high in the air, you wave and bounce on the balls of your feet when you spot him. Lazily, he rides the small wave that floods onto the shelf you are standing on, arms folding on the craggy surface to keep his upper half above water.

There’s a bag over your shoulder. It drops low with the weight it carries. “Look what the tide dragged in,” you let the bag drop, contents half spilling out across the floor. Familiar things. Suncream, bottled water, a change of clothes. Your foot comes to rest atop the worn volleyball as it rolls toward the edge, flinching when he splashes at you in retaliation. “You’re here earlier than usual. Did’ya miss me?”

Atsumu bobs, eyes rolling. “Was too busy making up my new den to think twice about’cha, sunshine,” he cracks a grin. You bat at the hand that threatens to circle around your ankle as you lower yourself to sit on the shelf’s edge, legs swinging over the depths.

“All grown up and living on your own now,” you pat his head in what is intended to be condescension but only ends up conveying fondness for him as your fingernails scratch gently at his scalp. “Proud of you”.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tipping into the touch without shame as he bobs in the water. Peeking up at you through the hair drying unruly over his eyes his heart sits prominent at the back of his throat. You’re in your swimsuit under your clothes again, he notices. “Ya gonna get in with me today?”

“Planned on it,” you replied coyly. Atsumu inhales deeply. Gills flutter. He feels his fins flare around his hips and smothers the need to hide himself, nudging his cheek to your bare thigh. A beat passes and your smile dims somewhat, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, ‘Tsumu”.

He rumbles his disapproval. Turning to nose at the skin there, Atsumu loosens his jaw and gently pincers your flesh between his teeth. Just enough to serve as a warning. The muscle and sinew remains relaxed despite it all, entirely sure he wouldn’t hurt you.

A heavy warmth drapes over his being at the heat, blood and beating heart echoing through your veins. “Gross,” you say without malice, flicking his temple at the lave of his tongue over your nonexistent wound.

“Ugly,” he returns, affectionate cadence unrestrained. You temper a smirk, kicking water his way as you tug your t-shirt over your head. Atsumu sinks into the sea’s cool embrace while you undress. Years ago you would have shied away from his blatant staring.

You’re welcoming to the arms that circle your waist as you turn to lower your body into the water. Atsumu doesn’t need to hold you up anymore, not like when you were young and easily drawn into the stronger currents, but he does so regardless. It earns him a soft huff, and a weak protest that is patently for show, but you let him.

A pleased sound vibrates in his throat before he can bite it back. You’re truly the softest thing he has ever laid hands on. Your fingers trail along his biceps, tracing the scales decorating his shoulders. Bioluminescence pulses through them with a shudder and you laugh at him, though not unkindly, “You’re lookin’ a lot brighter lately”.

Your ignorance is a blessing sometimes. Hiding his face in your hair his tail undulates and pushes your entwined bodies back toward the reef. Pride swells as your thighs cinch around his hips. The tides break around you, paving a pathway of foam from the shore to the corals. Below are vibrant formations, each unique and intricate, shelter for shoals of fish darting from the shadows stretching across on the seabed.

“Hey… can I ask you something?”

“Just did,” Atsumu snarks reflexively. You tighten your hold around his neck, leaning back to glare at him. You are about as intimidating as a sea bunny. He hums, “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Something flits across your features. Hesitance, maybe. Then your anxieties are spilling out into the open, “Why’d you split off from your group? Are they mad at you or something? If it’s because of me—”

Words stutter into a pitched plea for mercy when he pointedly tucks his chin to suck a mouthful of water into his cheeks. You flinch preemptively, throwing your hands up to your face. Atsumu holds a moment longer, pursing his lips as if readying to fire. You push at his chest in a fit of nervous laughter, “Okay, okay! I get it, it’s not my fault—don’t spray me!”

He doesn’t spit it at you. The seawater falls from his lips, trickles over his chin and returns to the tide. “Yer ability to overthink never fails to amaze me,” your breathing hitches as he brings your foreheads together. The flustered look you cast him makes him squeeze tighter, unwilling to let go. “They’ve gone to the mating grounds, that’s all. Figured it was as good’a time as any to find my own territory”.

You pause, a crease forming between your brows. “The mating grounds? You’ve never mentioned that before”.

Atsumu shrugs. The movement ripples out around you in broad rings. “Never needed to,” he says. “Wasn't important. M’here, aren’t I?”

“Why?” the pressure from your thighs lessens, just a fraction, but he’s already scrambling to cup the back of your knees and keep them there. You freeze. Scrutinising any minute change to his expression, eyes bright and flickering. Atsumu avoids your gaze with his inner cheek between his teeth. Slow, a smirk pulls at your lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve got no suitors”.

Atsumu chitters, displeased. You shouldn’t find the idea amusing. He wants you to hate it. Sulking, he says, “Glad ya think that’s funny”.

Your face falls, then. And you are seeking the strong grip he had on you before, clutching at his shoulders. Your hands slide carefully up the column of his neck, featherlight over his gills. A shiver breaks out across his skin as you take his face into your hands. “Hey, no. I didn’t mean—” you stop to sound a frustrated groan. “I didn’t mean it like that, ‘Tsumu. I just—I thought you were joking. Why wouldn’t a mer like you have everybody vying for your attention?”

His mouth shapes around a small ‘o’. Then it draws wide, crooked and teasing. “A mer like me, eh?” he echoes, slipping back from your grasp to circle you in the water as a thrilling static buzzed under his skin. Need grips him and hems his scales, saturating them with rich gold hues. “Like what?”

“Stop fishing for compliments, loser. You know,” you struggle to tread water and spin to track his circular motions, pushing a vindictive wave of water at him. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen”.

The glow from his display is bleeding into the blue-green waters and attracting the attention of the reef dwellers but he’s too pleased to be mortified. He halts his stalking, crowding into your arms, “Y’think I’m—?!”

Your fingers thread into his hair. With all your might you dunk him under, cutting his sentence short as a wave rushes to fill the space in his open mouth. He laughs through the descent of your body, the force having pushed him low enough that he is facing your bare stomach. Remaining there, even as you relinquish your grip.

Other finfolk never really commented on his colouring. They hadn’t attempted to initiate courtship, either, not with his priorities elsewhere. You have praised his scales before but this feels different. In the context of being wanted—desired as a partner. Maybe it’s just pretty words. But you would not have submerged him in a fit of embarrassment if there weren’t some truth in it.

Fins vibrating eagerly, small trails of bubbles rise to the surface. You're patting at his arms now, worried why he won’t come up, expression distorted by the water. He sinks forward, face pressing up against your midriff. Your abdomen immediately clenches. Nails dig into the curve of his shoulder as he mouths at your sternum. Arms rise to wrap around your waist and your knees flank his ribs, squeezing tight.

A mer’s senses are that much sharper here. He feels your stuttered breath, hears your heartbeat quicken, smells the beginnings of arousal. It tastes like victory, overwhelming all rational thought. Head to tailfin his instincts are begging to drag you to his den and fuck you to sleep.

But he can’t. Not yet, and not the way he wants to.

Pushing into a soft, resting stomach, Atsumu takes a breath, shakes himself from his reverie and blows hard against the skin. You immediately convulse, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Overhead, your sweet laughter; muffled by the white noise around him but just as euphonious.

You’re panting when he finally resurfaces, your head tilted to keep your chin above water. The tide must be coming in. He supports you against his chest, making you a few inches taller. “You dickhead. Fishbrains,” you chide breathlessly, betrayed by the fond look in your eye. “Shit. Don’t do that again”.

“Mean. What happened to gorgeous?” Atsumu’s pout trembles, struggling to keep his amusement at bay.

“I'll take it back!”

“No take backsies,” he croons, nuzzling at your jawline. Dangerous. “Glad ya think I’m hot and all but that’s not the only part of courting. Like, proving yer able to take care of them. Hunting an’ preparing food. Presenting gifts. Helping them groom. Keeping guard. S’why it takes the whole summer”.

As he speaks a slither of dread settles heavy in his gut. The memories practically flit across your face, visibly connecting the dots. “But you’ve always done those things—” your voice loses strength, mouth opening and closing a few times before finishing, “for me…?”

The sky is bruised. Clouds have gathered by the cliffs, and the sun is almost tucked beneath the horizon, casting a final burst of orange across the glittering ocean’s surface. His display dims. “Yea’,” he clears his throat, summoning a playful tone, “Real sharp, angel. I sure know how to pick ‘em”.

Any confidence he had slips between his fingers like dry sand the longer the silence draws between you. A sad note catches in his throat. His gills twitch as he waits with bated breath. Warm, soft hands come to cradle his face. Your thumb sweeps gently back and forth beneath his eye.

You don’t laugh. You don’t even splash at him. Rather, reverently, you say “…‘Tsumu”.

He peers up to meet your gaze. Softened by dusk, you are watching him through lidded eyes, crinkled at the corners. A sharp sensation frissons up his spine. You tilt his chin, bringing him into a chaste kiss. Atsumu shudders, hands pawing desperately at your hips. You pull back a hair’s breadth only to kiss him again, full lips sliding together, a more deliberate press that grows fervent at the cautious lick of his tongue.

When you seek air with a sharp inhale your eyes flutter closed for a moment. Atsumu doesn’t bother to dull his purr, nor the soft flow emitting from his tail, forming a golden ring of light around your entangled bodies. Mirthfully, you murmur, “I can’t believe it. You like me”.

It feels right; like finally letting himself have everything he’s ever wanted.

He laughs quietly, tucking a kiss beneath your ear, “Somethin’ like that”.

[bookofbonbon]

the ground beneath our feet - aemond targaryen.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader (third person - no name used).

Warnings: Mention of suicide. Angst.

Summary: Your relationship with Aemond has fallen apart as the war wages on and you remain his prisoner.

Prompts: My love for you is as firm as the ground we stand on (Mary & George 2024).

Word Count: 863.

The hem of her dress dragged heavily across the darkened sand. The treacherous sea binding itself to the satin material as it rose to the bottom of her calves, reaching higher and higher as the tide came in. Each step harder than the last as her bare feet sunk further into the unsteady ground. With the shore disappearing, every new current was stronger than the last and threatened to drag her under if she wasn’t careful. 

But careful she was. Though she loved the sea as every Velaryon before her and now has, death by drowning was not high on her list of ways to die. Although, in times - such as right now - when she found herself under the steady gaze of her estranged husband, she wondered if she might let the sea consume her out of spite. Alas, it was too late as sand turned to stone beneath her feet.

Beginning her barefoot ascent to Dragonstone, she walked carefully as she made her way back to the looming castle, weary of the deep cracks in the foundation as the stone crumbled and created an uneven ground of the eroding path.

Careful more so, however, of the Targaryen Prince awaiting her company on the first landing of many. 

“Must you come out here every day?” Aemond drawls once she is within ear shot. 

Quick to anger, she feels her ears grow hot as her head snaps up from the ground. Gaze finally meeting that of the man who insisted on stalking her every move. Not once could he allow her to suffer his presence in silence. There was always something to be said. 

“Must you follow me out here every day? I’m not a child, you need not watch over me as if I am one.”

Her fury however, is met with indifference as Aemond regards her coolly. The one-eyed Prince having grown accustomed to her anger-fuelled outbursts at him- of course, that didn’t make them hurt any less. But, she was predictable and always ready to be angry with him and despite his efforts, there was no balm he could give to soothe it. So, if her anger remained the one thing that she would give then Aemond would take as much of it as he could get.  

“Had you not gotten into the habit of wading further and further into the sea, gazing longingly upon its depths as if you may opt into disappearing into it at any given moment then perhaps I would not feel the need to supervise you as if you were one.” 

There's a beat of silence. A flicker of hurt in her now glassy eyes that she tries to wash away with a thick swallow that Aemond tracks with his one good eye. He didn't like her hurt, he didn't want her pain.

“So, the sooner you begin acting within reason, the sooner you will be left to your own devices. It really is that simple,” he finishes in the hopes of raising her temper but, it does more of the opposite. 

She visibly flinches, Aemond’s dismissiveness of her suffering hitting the soft spot in the back of her throat. 

"Is it?" The question catches him by surprise, his back straightening as he stares unblinking at her. She hadn't endeavoured to ask him anything more than a mocking retort of his own questions since the war started but, there was a sincerity to her voice that demanded an answer. "Is it really that simple?"

“It is.”

Another beat as she silently regards him. 

“Do you love me still?” 

Aemond’s eyebrows furrow, scar pulling inward from the motion as he takes offense at the question. 

“Still? I never stopped. My love for you has always been as firm as the ground we stand on. It is yo-”

“So if you claim to love me so, then am I your prisoner or am I your guest?”

“Guest,” he speaks too fast, lying without thinking. 

“Guest?" she smiles sadly. "Guests may leave as they please, so can I? Can I leave as I please?”

Aemond’s throat dries. The question hangs heavy in the space between them as he flounders for something to say, mouth agape but no sound coming out; the winds whistle and the crashing of the waves the only thing to be heard.

“Answer me, Aemond.” 

The shake of his head is slight but not un-noticeable. 

Aemond didn’t want her pain but it is all he got as it spills over and onto her cheeks.

"I take no pleasure in your captivity," Aemond tells her softly.

But then a sound, a sound he had not heard for a long time - a laugh. It’s slight and it's broken and it's watery and one clearly reserved only for herself but, a laugh nonetheless as she gestures to the ground around them. 

At the deep cracks in the foundation, at the fragile stones that bowed and bent and broke and created an uneven and unstable ground of the eroding path with each passing day.

“Look around you, Aemond,” she sighs. The same sad smile stretched across her lips. “The ground is not firm, it has crumbled beneath our very feet.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[velvateen]

beach day with zoro! (zoro x reader)

you and zoro spend a lovely day at the beach!

no pronouns used :)

warnings: fluff ⭐️

You huffed out with the weight of a few too many bags as you emptied the car of your stuff. Your sunglasses slipped down off your head over your eyes, while you were relieved of some of the weight you held.

“Need help?” Zoro asked, grabbing nearly everything from you. You peered up at him through your disheveled sunglasses and he laughed, turning to walk toward the boardwalk that led down to the beach. You followed him, umbrella in tow, starting to get excited for the fun afternoon ahead of you two.

The sun bore down as you chose the perfect spot and set up a blanket and the umbrella, right in front of his condominium complex, the beach relatively empty of other people.

“Man, it’s hot,” you wiped your forehead, “I’m gonna go to the water, be right back.” You stripped of your cover-ups and walked to the edge of the tide. You stared down, watching as sand drifted under your feet, too distracted to hear the dull thump of running feet coming from behind you.

Zoro crouched and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder with ease, and continuing his sprint into the blue water. Your squeal of surprise quickly turned into a fit of giggles as he slowed down from the waves pushing against him. Your laughter was cut off soon, however, when he reached a deep enough spot to fall, taking you right down with him.

When you both surfaced but before he could recover, you lunged at him, tackling him back down. You laughed, choking slightly on the water that had managed to get up your nose. He stood up, shaking off his defeat with a smile, opting to tread over to where you stood.

“Off to a good start,” he said. You turned and smiled at him, deciding to walk back to the shore.

You dried off and laid down, opening your book and queuing some quiet music up on the speaker as Zoro laid next to you, falling asleep almost immediately in the warmth of the sun. After a while had passed, a half hour if you had to guess, he woke up to you still delved further into your book. He smiled as he looked at you, and you felt it, looking up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, closing his eyes once again before getting back on his feet. “Gonna walk a little.” It could’ve been the sun, but his ears looked pretty red. Rolling your eyes, you returned to your book. The sun was finally getting to you too, it seemed, as you decided to close your eyes.

A quiet shuffling behind you woke you up from your brief rest, and when you turned to look, Zoro was crouching at the edge of your blanket, looking like a deer in headlights. It definitely was not the sun this time. You scooted over to what he was doing, and he sat next to you.

He collected a bunch of shells and had arranged them for you in the sand.

“I know you like the smooth ones, and the red ones, and the ones with holes in the top so you can put them on necklaces,” he mumbled, looking away from you, “I thought you’d like them.”

“These are so cool!” you oogled at the collection, and it was an impressive one at that. “Zoro, there’s no way we can take all these home, did you leave some for the rest of the beach?”

He chuckled. “I know we can’t take them all, just thought you’d wanna see them. There is one I think we should keep, though,” he held out his hand to you and dropped what felt like a small stone in your open palm. When he pulled away, a sizeable round chunk of green sea glass sat in your hand. Your eyes lit up.

“No way! No way!” The excitement in your voice was enough to bring a smile back to his lips as he watched you hold the foggy green piece up to the sun.

“How did you find this,” you asked, eyes gleaming with happiness. He shrugged, and you reached around his neck and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. “You’re the greatest.” He leaned into you and rested his head on your shoulder, watching your hands fumble with the sea glass. He yawned.

“Nap time?” His yawn was contagious.

“Yeah.”

After gathering your things, you proceeded to walk back to the condo parking lot to drop off the beach supplies. You sighed, the hot summer heat finally getting to you, the cool relief of the air conditioner hitting you as you and Zoro walked into the condo.

“I’m gonna shower, then you’re gonna shower, and then its nap time.” He nodded in agreement, words long driven away from the excessive heat.

After he got out of the shower, he found you crouched over the kitchen table, messing with some thin string. He leaned over you, warming the air around him and you breathed in the refreshing smell of his body wash.

“Look!” You had figured out how to entrap the sea glass in a small web of string, and showed Zoro your handiwork. “A necklace! Cute, right?” You looked up. He took the necklace from your hands and tied it around your nape.

“Very.”

You stretched and yawned, standing up and walking into the bedroom. The cool sheets fell nicely against your frame as you settled in, Zoro joining you, eyes drooping with exhaustion. He moved next to you, pulling you against his chest as he finally closed his eyes. Your hand fiddled with the necklace as you looked at your sleeping lover, a smile crossing your face as you let your eyes close for a quiet afternoon nap.

_____________________•.*_____________________

A/N i’m probably the # 1 believer that zoro is a sweetheart. i hate when people make him the meanest guy alive >:( i don’t think he has the emotional capacity to be mean if he wanted to LOL he’s simple 😽

guys leave me requests i have no ideas i just keep writing about the things i do every day as if zoro is there too. which isn’t creative it’s bonkers. anyways toodles

wait not toodles i was listening to dionysus by the buttertones while writing this. if you even care 🙄

[munefille]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥

yandere!m.merman x gn.reader

cw: mentions of death, disturbing imagery

as a fish takes refuge inside an oyster, it sees only the chance to hide from the unforgiving water within the calm mollusk, unaware of the true nature of its biology. unfortunately for the fish, the oyster has already activated its unique defense mechanism, encasing the fish as an immortal, precious pearl.

The rhythmic push and pull of the tides never failed to lull you into a state of mild stupor. Soft, slightly cool sand cushioned you while a gentle breeze brushed past your cheek and played with your hair. The day was only moderately gloomy, a grey tinted sky hanging over you as the clouds came and went, the sun nowhere to be seen. Still, you almost liked it better like this. The beach was more private, freer without the confines of eyes watching it.

Your calloused feet hopped onto the rocky shore, leaving the inviting sand disturbed as a sign of your presence. The salty ocean scent intensified the closer you came to the evermoving water. You stood atop the tallest rock, attempting to scan the waves at your vantage point, searching for your most curious find.

At last, peeking out from between the waves, did you spot the partially submerged head of your friend. His black eyes were trained on your form, no doubt watching you long before you noticed him.

A grin emerged across your face. "I see you!" you called, motioning for him to come closer as you waded into the water. The eyes disappeared beneath the tide at your request.

You felt him before you could see him, smooth scales wrapping around your leg in a firm hold. He reappeared directly in front of you, inky black eyes mere inches away from your own.

The creature's appearance was a far cry from the mermaids of your childhood, beautiful human women who happened to have a tail as their bottom half. No, he hardly mirrored the sentimental fairytale. You noticed his eyes first, sclera and pupil alike darkened together as they melded into each other- then you noticed his rubbery flesh stretched taunt across his sharp bones, with pale, sallow skin, nearly as grey as a corpse. You initially thought that's what he had been when he simply peered at you from afar, unmoving and unblinking against the rocking sea. He was just humanoid enough to lure concerned passersby like yourself deeper into the water, yet not quite passable as human.

In a closer vicinity, as you are now, you could see small scales dotting his cheeks and neck. Under the right light they appeared as little moons, revealing an opalescent luster that you could only describe as ethereal.

"Hello," you greeted with a wide close-lipped smile. Last time you had bared your teeth at him ended with him misunderstanding your friendliness for a threat. You weren't sure if he could talk, but that didn't stop you from trying to make conversation. You had a feeling he understood you to an extent anyways.

The mercreature tilted his head sideways in response, sleek, wet dark hair falling over his shoulder. An inscrutable expression remained plastered on his features; one you gave up trying to interpret using human facial language.

Silky scales gently tugged you further into the waves towards a rocky mass that stood above the crashing water. The current strengthened, oscillating you to its whims, but the guidance of the unyielding sea creature kept you from being swept away entirely. Although you would consider yourself a strong swimmer, you knew you would never compare to a creature born of the water, one who moved so in tune to the sea that his lithe form became indistinguishable from the tides.

Finally, you reached the rocks, gripping the relatively dry surface for relief from the unrelenting waters. You found a comfortable position on them, resting your upper body while you let your legs dangle. The mercreature remained below, lower half of his face once again concealed under the water, leaving only his unblinking eyes visible. His body underneath the water became obscured even further by the dark ring of hair that floated around him. Those eyes regarded you with scrutinizing intensity that would've resembled a predator, had you thought hard enough about it.

"What a nice view-" you began, but the thought was cut short when your companion pulled himself below the water, disappearing from your sight almost completely, save for the movement in the water that signified a strong tail pushing against it.

Confusion laced your face. The few minutes he had gone was enough to make you worry. Why had he left so abruptly? Surely he would be back? You weren't certain you could swim back to shore on your own. Although you trusted him- in fact, you would even consider him a friend- doubt from his apparent unpredictability lingered. After all, you had no way to reliably communicate, nor were you sure if your opinion of your relationship was mutual.

Your concerns vanished as he broke the surface of the water, swimming towards the rocks with something that gleamed as the light hit it.

He stopped at your feet, lifting the object slowly up to you. If you hadn't known better, you'd say the action seemed almost shy.

A gasp left you as you got a view of it. In his webbed, slender fingers lay a glistering mass of refined pearl, hints of color dancing across it the glossy surface. Distantly, you recalled that the creature's scales were of the same material. It resembled an anatomically correct heart. Never before had you seen a pearl shaped in such a way, nor did you know how it could've been, or why the shape was so accurate, even down to the imprint of the vessels. It was as if the thing had been pulsating. Why was it so accurate?

The beautiful piece was presented to you like a gift, so you had gladly accepted. You collected it from the awaiting hands. The coolness of it nearly burned you as it touched your flesh, the brilliant iridescence of it stealing your attention away from the faint scent of iron permeating the breeze. It distracted you from the bloody teeth of the now grinning merman, sharp rows glinting bright cardinal red. You thought nothing of the diluted red in the dark water, seeping towards your feet. The sinking body below, twisted and stuck eternally in a cry for help, was lost to you as you held the glimmering heart with reverence.

_____________________________✧_______________________________

i love creepy mermaids

[runningthroughthegarden]

your back beneath the sun, wishing i could write my name on it

a summer beach day with your pretty boyfriend <3

the car radio blasts and wind tumbles through your hair. jack drives as you dramatically sing the lyrics to your favorite songs. the trunk is packed with towels and endless snacks. it's just the start to your day, but you can already tell it will be your favorite.

"clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in" you and jack sing, beginning to smell the salty air of the ocean. your hand waves out the window feeling the air through your fingers.

"alright, we're here" jack says with a wide grin looking over at you as he parks.

ready to feel the sand under your feet, you and jack unpack the trunk. he brings his arm around your shoulder, tucking you into him while he kisses the top of your head. walking further into the sand, you find the perfect place to set up your area. jack leans back resting on his elbows.

"hey pretty boy" you say while placing your head in his lap.

"hey pretty girl" he responds brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"i think i could stay like this forever" you whisper.

"so lets do just that" he smiles back.

the next few hours are spent soaking up the sun and enjoying the variety of snacks you packed. you feel so comfortable in the presence of jack, spending your time talking about everything and anything.

"whatcha doing?" you ask your now standing boyfriend.

"oh you know just stretching" he responds while a smirk slowly spreads across his face.

"you couldn't even say that with a straight face what are you scheming" you say with a slight giggle.

"this!" he screams while throwing you over his shoulder.

"jack!! what are you doing?!" you yell trying to hold onto his back.

"we're going for a swim!" he laughs.

"jack put me down!!" you respond in a fit of laughter.

"too late!" he yells as you feel the water hit your waist.

waves crash against you as you fully dive underwater. coming back up to the surface you see your curly headed boyfriend with the biggest smile you've ever seen.

"yknow you could've just asked me to swim with you" you giggle, wiping your hair back.

"yeah but what's the fun in that" he explains while his hands find your waist.

reaching your hands around his neck you pull him in for a kiss. his lips taste like a mixture of coconut and salt water. the sound of soft waves crashing around you.

"i think i could stay like this forever" he says repeating your words from just a few hours ago. his eyes roam your sun kissed face while your fingers play with his now wet curls.

"so let's do just that" you respond pulling him in for one more kiss before pulling him down into the water.

a/n: my requests are open!!

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Neige x Reader: White Beaches and a Spring Morning

Summary: The Ramshackle prefect is finally able to get a full week off from school after four overblots. Determined to enjoy their time to the fullest off campus, they set out to explore Sage’s Island, starting with the island’s southern beaches. However, it seems that our prefect can never catch a break, as they find an RSA student crying and upset. Unable to just look away, they set their sights on comforting him and helping him have a good time outside of school.

Word count: just under 3k

Tags: fluff, getting together (not officially though), dates, romance

Warnings: none… unless suave reader is a warning… reader being too hot lol

Author’s notes: this was inspired by a tumblr post by @sorbertisfruity and I loved it so much that I decided to start writing it. Also this is my first time I’m actually writing and posting my creative work, so I just ask that people are kind. Thanks and enjoy!

Leaning forward with the wind whipping through your hair, you fly down the mountain path away from Night Raven College. The engine of the magic wheel roars behind you, as music blasts from the speakers. Finally, you were free! After months of work, you finally got a week off. Of course, you had to blackmail Crowley by threatening to expose the multiple overblots. Nonetheless, he conceded to your requests in the end. Now, you’ve left your worries and Grim temporarily behind in favor of a relaxing day at the beach. 

Pulling up to the sandy shore, you park the magic wheel you’d borrowed from Ignihyde and look out at the sight before you. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dreary mountain Night Raven College sat atop of. The morning was crisp and clear with the sea breeze wafting from the ocean. The beach was empty. You were here on a weekday after all. You grab your bag from one of the compartments and head off toward the tide.

The sandals on your feet sink slightly into the sand as you search for a more secluded area to place your bag. After walking along the coast, you catch a glimpse of NRC’s rival school, the Royal Sword Academy. It was almost blinding with its tall white spires that were tipped with blue. Overall, the vibe is much brighter than NRC’s gothic horror aesthetic.

“Wonder what their facilities are like,” you murmur to yourself, “Maybe I can secretly get a tour of the school and request a transfer while I’m at it.”

You chuckle at the thought of your friends’ outrageous reactions to your fictional transfer. Just as you finish the thought, you hear a loud sob. Furrowing your brow, you pick up your pace. Even on your day off, you never catch a break, you internally sigh. You blame your upright and well-meaning nature, but you shrug off the thought as you come across an alcove in the rocks. 

You find a boy huddled up against the stone, sobbing to himself. He’s wearing a familiar white uniform jacket, signifying that he’s from the Royal Swords Academy. You’re unable to see his face as he’s tucked it into his knees. Only his ruffled black hair shows. Next to him lies a black beret and the dirt and skid marks on his uniform make it obvious he ran out of the academy. 

Coming closer to the cave-like area, your footsteps are masked by the sound of soft waves lapping against the coast. 

“Hey,” you call out, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s head snaps up. He stumbles to his feet and begins making rapid apologies. His voice has a light, airy quality to it that cracks as he trips over his words. 

“I—I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I—I should probably go. I don’t want to bother you—“ 

He isn’t able to say anything more, as his foot catches on a nearby rock and he begins tumbling forward with a squeak. Moving on instinct, you catch him by the waist, pulling him in to support his weight. Pressed up against him, you note that he has a slim but fairly toned waist. He’s also a bit taller than expected. 

“Are you ok?” You ask, “That was pretty close. It might be a good idea to sit down for a while before moving again. Sorry, I startled you. I was just concerned whenever I heard someone in distress.”

Pulling away slightly, you’re able to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are the first feature that stands out to you. They’re soft, doe-like, and innocent. His brown eyes are a little puffy and red around the edges from crying, but it doesn’t detract from their soft allure. Your eyes flicker down toward his lips. They’re tinted a natural red, as he chews on them. Suddenly, you become acutely aware of how close the two of you are. You can feel his ragged breath on your cheek, as you take the time to observe him.

He glances down and away from you, tears still in his eyes, as continues to gnaw on his lip. Whether from the anxiety of being caught crying or the flustered embarrassment of being so close, you’re not sure. You suspect it might be both. However, when he turns his cheek, the light catches a glimmer of wet tears that have already streaked down his face. Before you have time to think, you reach your hand up to cup his cheek and wipe it away. 

Blinking, you realize that you just performed a somewhat intimate gesture and you move your hand away. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to help. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

He stares at you with wide eyes and touches the place where you wiped his tears with his hand.

“…No, I didn’t mind it.” 

His voice breaks, then in a smaller tone, he comments, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” you chuckle, “My name’s (Y/N), and you?”

He hesitates for a second before replying, “Neige.”

He watches your reaction intently, looking for any signs of recognition, but when there is none, he relaxes slightly. 

“I wouldn’t mind sitting down again,” he tells you. 

He starts to pull away to sit back down when you tighten your grip on his waist, stopping him. 

“Hold on, I have a towel. Let me lay it down first,” you state. 

Rummaging through your bag, you pull out a towel that you stole from Heartslabyul. The print on the fabric is a dead giveaway. It’s littered with multicolored card suits. Spreading it out, you plop down on the fluffy towel and turn to Neige, who comes to sit next to you.

“Again, sorry for scaring you earlier. I just heard you were in distress and wanted to make sure you were ok,” you repeat, inspecting for any physical wounds. “Physically, you seem fine. Are you in emotional distress?”

Playing with the edge of the towel, he glances up at you before looking away. His grip tightens on it and he nods. 

Neige hesitates before saying, “You know, if you have other places to be, you can go do those. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine–”

Before he can get any further, you cut him off, “Neige, I know we just met, but I’m not going to leave someone who’s upset behind. You seem sweet and I want to get to know you. It would be nice to get a new friend.”

You put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He looks up at you with wet eyes and hiccups slightly, trying to hold back newly formed tears. Your eyes go wide and your body moves on autopilot. You open your arms to offer a hug. 

“Hey, do you want a hug? Will that make you feel better?”

Neige hesitates before nodding. Given your cue, you envelop him in a warm, tight hug. Cradling him, you rub small circles on his back and whisper words of comfort. 

He breaks. Any semblance of wariness or guard that he had up before crumbles against your kindness and small persistence. He cries so hard that his whole body shakes against you. You squeeze tighter and you can tell that you are the only thing keeping him together at this moment. He ends up clinging and clawing at you as if you’re his only lifeline in the vast ocean. He sobs harder at your gentle approach to comforting him and a few broken words of gratitude spill from his mouth. 

“—Thank you, thank you so much. I never— I never got this growing up. I always had to put on a cheerful face to not worry my— my family. This means so much to me. Thank you, thank you (Y/N).”

You clutch him tighter, running a hand through his hair, as he sobs into your shoulder. You feel for him. You understand the struggles of having to carry everyone else’s burden even though it shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place. You ended up solving and resolving each overblot with only some of your classmates and practically no teachers. No responsible adults were around to help fight Riddle, restrain Leona, stop Azul, and punish Jamil. It had been getting exhausting. Thankfully, you got a week to yourself, but this wasn’t about you and you turned your attention back on your new friend, Neige. 

You allow him to get all the tears, sorrow, and pain out of his system. When his sobbing slows down and his breathing starts to even out, you reach into your bag to pull out some tissues, nudging Neige’s face with them. 

Upon feeling the tap, he looks up from where his face was buried in your shoulder. Tears and snot run down his face, and he takes the tissues with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, taking the tissue and blowing into it.

After giving him some water, snacks, a lot of tissues, and more cuddles, he’s much more relaxed than he was earlier. His tired eyes are unable to focus on anything specific, as they flutter to stay awake. He continues to lean on you for support.

Chuckling, you ask, “Wanna lay down?”

Letting out an almost incoherent murmur of approval, he clutches onto your clothes, before asking, “Promise you won’t leave?”

You give him a soft smile that he’s unable to see with his eyes closed, and you lay the two of you down on the towel. You rest beside Neige, as he makes himself comfortable, nestling into your arms. 

“Of course, Snow,” you answer, “I’ll make sure to protect you if anything is out to get you.”

He nuzzles into you with a smile filled with sweet dreams, as he drifts off to sleep. After a while of listening to the ocean waves lap against the shore and feeling the slow steady breathing of the person next to you, you also find yourself lulled into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~

“You’re already skipping school. You might as well take the day off to relax and enjoy yourself,” you persuade, “Besides, would you leave your new friend behind to hang out at the beach by themselves?”

You look at Neige with playful and expectant eyes. He lets out a sigh and a small smile slips through, as he concedes. 

“I suppose taking one day off wouldn’t hurt.”

You give a cheer.

“Race you to the ocean!” you shout, scrambling to your feet. 

Neige squeaks in surprise, before he latches onto your ankle, tripping you. Landing on your hands with a small oof, Neige rushes past.

“Ok, pretty boy! I see how it is,” you cackle. 

Launching yourself from the ground into a runner’s sprint, you catch up to him. Wrapping your arms around Neige’s waist, you use your momentum to spin him around a couple of times before flinging him in the opposite direction of the coast. He screeches at the unexpected attack and begins laughing as he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance. Without hesitation, you turn back to the destination and bolt toward the finish line. 

The tempered ocean water hits your feet, slowing you down, as you raise your fists and cheer.

Neige jogs over with a stuttering laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. Are you happy?” He asks with a grin.

“Immensely,” you beam.

~~~~~~

“We’ll have a [favorite ice cream/gelato flavor] and biscoff gelato, please,” you order from the ice cream parlor you found. 

The man behind the counter nods with a smile and begins scooping out your request. Neige’s eyes are wide as they turn to you.

“You don’t have to pay for mine,” he insists, pulling out his wallet. 

You stop his movements by putting a hand over his.

You hold eye contact with him, as you say, “I like and want to spoil you. You’re sweet, so getting you something sweet only makes sense. Please let me do this.”

Neige’s face heats up and you watch his brain malfunction for a few seconds, before turning away. You take the opportunity to pull out your card and give it to the owner of the shop, paying for your snacks. 

“That’s so sweet of you to pay for your boyfriend like that,” the owner comments, swiping your card.

Grinning, you wrap an arm around Neige’s waist, tugging him closer to you. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat himself that often, so I have to make sure he gets what he deserves,” you answer, winking at Neige.

Neige’s hand rushes to cover his blush as it spreads to the tips of his ears. The owner coos at you two, handing you your ice creams and card. You thank him on your way out, still attached at the hip with a flustered Neige. 

~~~~~~

The magic wheel zooms through the streets of Sage’s Island, and the sun casts a golden glow on you and Neige. He’s pressed right up against your back, clinging onto your waist. It’s warm and comforting. You’ve been riding aimlessly together for about half an hour, but seeing the sun setting, you figure you should take him home. 

Sneaking a glance at your companion, you watch his wide-eyed gaze explore the mountainous scenery. You smile before speeding up. You feel Neige’s chest move with twinkling laughter. He squeezes you tighter and leans in. Today has been a far better day than expected.

The sun has partially set in the sky as you pull up to the gates of the Royal Swords Academy. Putting the vehicle in park, you dismount the wheel, before offering your hand to help Neige off. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you say with a wink. 

Neige’s breath catches, as a hand comes to block his mouth in embarrassment. He places his other hand in yours, using it to get off. With both feet on the ground, he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. You might as well have, you note, as the stars begin to peek out.

“When will I see you again? I want to see you again,” he pleads.

You blink in surprise at such a bold statement, before chuckling. 

“Well, I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. You know I have the week off,” you offer with a fond smile.

“Really?! You would do that? That wouldn’t ruin your vacation, would it?” he clarifies at a rapid pace.

You laugh, leaning against the magic wheel. 

“Honestly, Neige, if I didn’t leave NRC’s campus, I’d probably get dragged into some kind of shenanigans with Ace, Deuce, and Grim,” you explain, “I love them, but they’re a handful and I want a break. I would much rather hang out with you. It’s more peaceful and relaxing. Besides, I had a lot of fun today and I like getting to know you.” 

Neige’s mouth opens in a small oh, as his gaze softens. He clasps his hands in front of his heart, simply gazing at you. For a few moments, you just hold each other’s gaze, content and comfortable in the silence. You reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Neige’s face. You let your hand linger, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb against it. His eyes droop and he nuzzles into your hold. Unable to resist, you draw him closer and loop an arm around his waist, before remembering–

“Your beret,” you murmur, “Let me get it for you.”

Moving to open one of the compartments on the magic wheel, you grab Neige’s hat only to settle back into the space in front of him. Placing the beret on his head, you let him adjust it. As he finishes, you notice unfamiliar red lettering along the border. Leaning in, you take a closer look.

“Someday my princess will come,” you quote.

Smiling, you continue, “Mmm, that’s cute. That sounds like something you would say, Neige.”

Your thumb runs over the embroidery, following every swirl of cursive on the beret. Your eyes flicker down to his to realize that you’re rather close. You can’t help but take a peek at his lips. They’re red, just like when you first met him, but this time they're slightly parted. You find yourself locking eyes with Neige’s brown ones once again, drawn together like magnets. Neige presses his body more snugly against you, watching for any signs of discomfort, as he rests his hands on your hips. You play with his lapel, before moving up to his shoulders and finally wrapping your arms around his neck. You give a playful smile, as you draw closer, and you feel Neige’s quiet laughter against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you lean in. 

Before you can kiss, however–

“Neige, Neige! There you are!” 

“Do you know how much you made us worry?”

“We couldn’t find you after you ran out of the dorm– *achoo*!”

“And you–you left your phone at the dorm, so we had no way to contact you!”

“We looked everywhere in the academy, *yawns* even my favorite napping place.” 

“I can’t believe you skipped class. You should take us next time.”

“Toby, what are you talking about? We’re not supposed to skip class.” 

“Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

Neige lets out a whine, as his head falls against your shoulder. With the moment ruined, he hugs your waist tighter in protest. Laughing, you pat the poor boy’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. You take a look past him to identify the source of the shouts.

You spot seven short figures toddling their way over to the two of you from RSA’s gates. You’re unable to make out the fine details in the diminishing light, and instead opt to look back at Neige, his pitiful form still draped over you. These must be the seven dwarves that he was talking about earlier; the ones he grew up with. Based on their behavior, they seem to care about him just as much as Neige expressed his love and concern for them. You squeeze Neige tighter, grateful that he has a secure support network. He’s already been through a lot just based on what he’s told you so far.

Neige lets out another groan of despair, as you turn your full attention back towards him. Feeling a bit playful, you bring your face right next to his ear.

“I won’t let you go without a little something,” you tease.

Neige perks up, looking at you with wide and attentive eyes.

You chuckle at his reaction, murmuring that he’s cute, before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He melts into your touch, gripping your waist tighter. Pulling away, you tap your own cheek with a quick wink. In the dim light, you’re barely able to make out the flush spreading across his face. His Adam's apple bobs, before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle, and after a few seconds pull away.

“Enough to tide you over?” you question.

“...Barely,” he whispers, still stuck in the same spot, star-struck. 

“I trust your friends will make sure you get to your dorm safely?” you confirm, starting up the engine of the magic wheel. 

He nods.

“Good,” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Snow.”

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he replies, before shaking out of his stupor and calling out, “Make sure to get home safe!”

You laugh, as you leave the Royal Swords Academy… at least for today.

“Thanks! Will do!” 

You’ll be back tomorrow. 

[rambleonwaywardson]

Salt Water

A Clegan (Buck x Bucky) one-shot

Summary: The boys take a trip to the beach, where Bucky learns that Gale is a little afraid of the ocean.

Word Count: 3020

Author's Note: This idea came to me out of nowhere, and I decided I don't care if it feels accurate or not because I wanted to write fluff about it. I've also never posted a fic on tumblr before, but I'm waiting until I have a larger collection of Clegan one-shots before posting them under a single work on AO3 and wanted to put this out there somehow before that happens. My AO3 is also RambleOnWaywardSon.

—

Gale is perfectly comfortable reclining lazily on a beach towel, book in one hand while he props himself up with the other, when a towering shadow blocks his sun and causes him to glance up through his sunglasses. Bucky, even through the glaringly bright light of a cloudless July day, may be the most beautiful human Gale has ever seen on this planet. Water droplets like glittering crystals cling to the pale skin of his chest and abdomen and drip from salt-water damp curls. Even today, his smile gives the sun a run for its money. 

But he is, in fact, blocking Gale’s actual sun. And Gale had been perfectly happy in the sun, thanks very much. 

“You’re blocking the sun,” he says matter of factly. Even so, he earmarks the corner of his paperback and sets it beside him on his towel, full well knowing that Bucky, giving him this facial expression that somehow manages to mix ‘hurt but hopeful puppy’ with ‘giddy, plotting boyfriend,’ will not be easily deterred.

He would be correct.

“You’ve barely gotten in the water all afternoon. Why the hell did we come to the beach if we’re not gonna swim?” Bucky’s puppy dog smile turns to a pout, and Gale rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses as he glances Bucky up and down.

“You’ve been swimming.” 

“But you haven’t!” Bucky steps closer to Gale and grabs one of his hands, tugging insistently. “Come into the water with me,” Bucky says. 

Gale lets Bucky work for it for a second, but eventually, reluctantly, allows himself to be tugged to his feet. It beats the inevitable alternative where Bucky uses his – extremely slight though not insignificant – size advantage to drag Gale into the sand before throwing him over his shoulder. “Bucky,” he sighs, running a hand through his own dry hair. “I don’t know.”

“Why not?” Bucky whines. He tugs Gale’s hand again, and Gale indulges him until they reach the shallow tide of the ocean, water lapping peacefully at their feet. Gale feels the cool water splash his ankles, the soft and gritty sand nestling between and over his toes. He stops ankle-deep in the clear water, staring at the tiny fish that dart around him as the tide pulls them forward and back.

“See?” Bucky says. “You’re not gonna melt if you get a little water on you.”

Gale looks over at him. Bucky ignores the fact that he knows Gale is rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. Buck is sassy today. “I walked around in the water with you earlier,” Gale reminds him. “And no, I’m not the wicked witch of the west, thanks so much.”

Bucky ignores the last comment, practically having to physically force himself not to make some poorly executed joke about Gale, apparently, being a witch. A sassy witch. “You’ve been laying in the sun long enough,” he says instead, patting Gale’s cheek. This earns him another eye roll. Bucky doesn’t care. “You’re gonna burn your pretty face like that.”

“I will in the water, too.” Deadpan. Unamused.

“Gale,” Bucky pleads. “I wanna swim in the ocean with you. We don’t get to come to the beach every day, so can we please just make the most of it? For me?”

Gale sighs and looks down at his feet, shifts and presses into them until the sand is almost completely covering them, an anchor. Only when he feels Bucky drop his hand does he look up again, just in time to watch him walk away, without a word, into deeper water. Gale bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair again, trying to tamp down the feeling of abandonment rising between his ribs. This should not be such a big deal. This should not be so hard.

Once Bucky is a good few yards away, the water up to his thighs, he turns around, fully intent on calling Gale out on his bullshit. But he stops short. He doesn’t know what he really expected to see. Gale had been a little off -- difficult, sassy, John doesn’t really know — all day. But he did not expect to see Gale biting at his lip and staring down at the water around his ankles, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Bucky tilts his head and squints. 

When Gale hears splashing and glances up to see Bucky walking back towards him, wading through the waves, he feels the tight feeling in his chest begin to ebb. He drops his arms to his sides and straightens up, trying to seem nonchalant. Bucky doesn’t buy it. “Hey,” he says. He reaches out and grabs Gale’s hand in his again, this time insistence replaced with a gentleness that wasn’t there before. “It’s okay.” Gale just blinks at him, opens his mouth, closes it, looks down at his feet. “Gale,” Bucky says quietly. With his free hand, he tilts Gale’s chin up again, so he has to look at him. “You’re scared of the ocean?”

Gale shrugs uncomfortably. “Not a whole lot of ocean in Wyoming.” He’d always been a good swimmer, it’s just that he’d never had very positive experiences with the ocean itself – the unknown of it, the unknown in it, the tides, the salt water that tastes awful on his tongue.

Bucky smiles and shakes his head. “No,” he agrees. He lets go of Gale’s chin and brushes his fingers down his check just briefly, a thoughtless touch that's barely there. “Why did we come to the beach if you don’t like the ocean?”

Gale shrugs again. “You like it. Wanted to make you happy.”

Bucky about melts, and he’s not a melting type. At least, he wasn’t before he met Gale Cleven. He squeezes Gale’s hand tight and gently tugs again. Gale takes a step forward, then another. Bucky leads him a few yards out, where he’d been just a moment ago, where the water hits about mid thigh and the waves swell up to just below the waist. It’s here that he feels resistance pulling at his hand. When he turns to look at Gale, the other man is tugging back, his feet firmly planted in the rocky sand. He’s shaking his head. 

“Come on, Buck,” Bucky urges. “Just a little further.”

Gale shakes his head again. “This- This is good.”

Bucky turns a little more so he’s face to face with Gale and steps towards him, so close their noses almost touch. He takes Gale’s free hand in his, so he’s firmly holding both. “It’s okay,” he whispers. He starts slowly stepping backwards, pulling Gale along with him, and is relieved when the other man follows, unsure. Bucky glances behind him at the waves. The water is fairly calm today — Bucky is thankful for that now — but earlier in the day, here and there a wave would catch him by surprise. He doesn’t need any surprises with Gale. They just go slow, so very slow, one step at a time. 

By the time the water is at Gale’s midriff, splashing up towards his chest, he stops and shakes his head definitively. He will not, under any circumstances, go further than this. Bucky decides to take it. He decides that they don’t have to swim today. They can stand, float, whatever. His new task is simply to get Gale comfortable in the ocean that he loves. 

“Look at me, angel,” he says. He holds his breath for a second, worried the nickname will throw Gale off. He never really could figure out what to call Gale other than, well, Gale or Buck. Sometimes the nicknames he came up with were hit or miss — baby depended on the day; princess had earned him radio silence for about an hour, but he’d convinced himself that Gale just didn’t want to admit that he kinda liked it (he is most likely wrong but will not be deterred); darling was acceptable but how fucking boring; and sweetie was a very hard no.  Angel just kind of popped out now because, seriously, Gale looks so goddamn ethereal in the ocean sunlight, the highlights in his blond hair bright and glittering from the sea-spray. 

But Gale does look at him. He looks amused, but John can’t tell if his cheeks are tinged pink from the sun or because he’s blushing. Reaching a hand up to Gale’s face, he pushes the sunglasses up away from his eyes so they’re sitting on top of his head. “There you are,” he says. “Just keep your eyes on me.” He tugs Gale closer, so they’re nearly chest to chest, nose to nose. Bucky can feel Gale’s hair, which has grown just a little too long in the front, tickling his forehead as Gale looks back down at the water rising and falling around them. It’s not so clear anymore; he can no longer see what’s under the surface. “Gale, look at me.” 

Gale obeys, meeting Bucky’s eyes. He’s suddenly very aware of how close they are. “People are gonna look,” he mumbles.

“No one cares what anyone else is doing at the beach.”

“They might…”

“No,” Bucky reaffirms. “And to hell with them if they do. Just keep looking at me, okay? I’ve got you.”

Bucky wouldn’t admit it – it would just scare Gale off – but he secretly loves these little moments where he can be Gale’s safety. He can protect him, reassure him, let him know everything would be alright. Buck Cleven was always so in control, seemingly fearless. Bucky loves that he gets to see this side of him, the one that can be unsure, the one that needs some guidance. He likes that he’s the one Gale looks to for that. 

Bucky guides Gale’s hands up so they’re wrapped around his neck and shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he repeats. “We’re just gonna stand here, okay? You and me.” Then he reaches down behind Gale's legs and picks him up, convinces him to wrap his legs around his waist so now Bucky is fully holding him, lifting him higher out of the water so he doesn’t have to contend with the waves alone. 

“Bucky,” Gale starts to protest, immediately moving to disentangle his legs. He feels silly, a little too dependent. It goes against everything he tries to let the world see of himself, and everything he’s careful to ensure they don’t see.

Bucky holds tight to his waist though, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around Gale’s middle. “Just breathe, Gale. Just stay here with me.”

Gale hesitates, but nods and re-secures his legs around Bucky, leaning back in his firm embrace. The water makes him feel like he’s floating while the arms around his waist anchor him. He tries to focus on the sounds of seagulls soaring overhead, waves breaking over the sand, the distant buzz of a plane engine somewhere up above. The water is cool against his skin, leaving him almost cold where it splashes up and recedes again. Bucky’s body is warm and solid against his. He focuses on Bucky’s face, all warm eyes and a soft, encouraging smile. Gale lets that ground him, almost smiles back. 

But then a larger wave comes and smacks him in the bicep, knocking him off balance and causing his breath to hitch as he tightens his grip on Bucky and shuts his eyes tight. “Bucky!” He’s a little ashamed of how nervous his own voice sounds. 

Bucky just grins at him, though, totally unfazed. “I won’t let you go,” he promises. 

When Gale opens his eyes again and stares straight at Bucky, Bucky’s breath catches in his throat. He feels like a teenager with a crush, the way his stomach flips at having the undivided attention of someone who may very well be the most beautiful man in the world – definitely the most beautiful in Bucky’s world. When they had first allowed their friendship to turn into more, Bucky was terrified that he wasn’t cut out for commitment. He never had been before. He was a low stakes, one night, paint the town red kind of guy. And Gale, well, Gale was not. He deserved so much better than Bucky. Even now, Bucky still beats himself up too much about whether or not he’s good enough, but slowly, slowly, slowly his anxiety over it had started to fade. Now, staring into Gale’s eyes, taking in his beautiful face, his hair, running his hands up and down his slim waist, Bucky is awestruck. Not for the first time, he can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else again. It physically pains him how much he wants to spend his entire life with Gale. 

“What?” Gale asks, smiling a little shyly as he quirks an eyebrow at Bucky. 

“You’re beautiful,” Bucky blurts out. 

Gale’s smile grows. He opens his mouth to speak just as another wave comes and catches them off guard, spraying salt water into his face. He splutters and gags, trying to get the unwelcome taste off his tongue. Bucky can’t help but laugh. 

“‘S not funny,” Gale mumbles. 

Bucky surprises him by pressing their lips together for the briefest of moments, relishing in the taste of salt and sand mixed with Gale. “It’s a little funny.”

Gale rolls his eyes and unwraps one arm from around Bucky’s neck so he can check that his sunglasses are still safe atop his head before clinging on again. Bucky shifts him up an inch or two higher, a silent apology and an attempt to spare him from the bigger waves. 

“Are we done now?” Gale asks impatiently. “Can I go sit on the beach again?”

“No.”

Gale huffs and looks away from Bucky, out to the great ocean and the horizon beyond, even as his fingers play mindlessly with the wet hair at the nape of Bucky’s neck. “It is pretty, I’ll give you that.” When Bucky hums in agreement, Gale frowns. “Of course, I’d rather think that from where I was on the beach.”

Bucky lifts one hand to the side of Gale’s face, runs his fingers down his cheek and then presses his thumb to Gale’s bottom lip, which he’s still been worrying between his teeth. “You’re still nervous.”

“Yes John, I’m fucking nervous,” Gale snaps, and he immediately regrets it. Then he sighs, closes his eyes. The words rattle around in his brain like gunfire. “Sorry.”

Bucky barely reacts, though. He knows Gale doesn’t do well with nerves, or with being looked after, or really anything that shows him to be less in control than he wants everyone to think he is. “You’re doing great,” Bucky says. “Now what was that you were telling me earlier about how stars die? Fusion or something. All those smart things you know so much about.”

Gale glares at him, but there’s no more malice behind it. He looks more like a petulant child who doesn’t want to be coddled anymore. “I know what you’re doing,” he says. 

“And what am I doing?”

“Trying to distract me.”

“So what?” Bucky grins at him, and Gale can’t deny how much he loves that smile. How much he loves feeling their upper bodies pressed against each other as they just float. Or the way Bucky’s hand reassuringly strokes up and down his side as a silent I’m here, I’m with you, I won’t let you go. “Buck?” Bucky bumps their noses together, making Gale scoff. “Tell me about all your nerdy physics facts.”

So Gale does. He tells Bucky all about the life cycle of a star: the fact that the sun is made up of hydrogen and helium, and how hydrogen nuclei collide in a process called nuclear fusion to create helium and release energy, and how eventually the helium will start creating carbon and the star will become unstable, ejecting its outer layers into the cosmos like a fireball. Gale tells Bucky about all the types of stars and how they die in different ways to become different things — No Bucky, the sun will not become a black hole, sorry — and the fact that even the biggest stars eventually stop fusing when they inevitably create iron because they no longer have enough fuel to evade collapse. These are the stars that explode outward in a spectacular encore of literally stellar proportions, a supernova. 

All of this really is over Bucky’s head, but he’ll listen for hours if it means he gets a front row seat to Gale’s unfiltered excitement. The thing that catches his attention though is when Gale smiles at him, brushes his wet hair away from his face. “That’s where everything in the universe comes from, Bucky,” he says. “The Earth, moon, planets, the sun itself. You and me. We’re all made of star stuff.”

Bucky can’t look away from this amazing, beautiful man that he’s holding in his arms. He wants to make some comment about when did you become such a poet, but all that comes out is “That must be why you’re my entire universe.”

Gale’s expression somehow manages to be long-suffering and unamused but somehow so loving. A look that says you’re an idiot but you’re mine and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

“You doin' okay?” Bucky asks. 

Gale blinks at him, then looks down at the water again. One arm still around Bucky’s neck, he lets his other hand rest on the water’s surface, bobbing up and down with the waves. He finds the motion somehow satisfying, the physics of it as well as the repetitive rocking, the cooling feeling of water adhering to his skin. He has no idea how long they’ve been out here. “I’m fine,” he concedes.

“Maybe next time we can go out a little further,” Bucky says. “Ride the waves in.” Gale looks skeptical if not a little terrified, and Bucky can’t help but laugh. “Alright, that’s a no for now.”

“I think,” Gale starts softly. He pulls his sunglasses back over his eyes and bows his head, so his forehead is resting on Bucky’s as he tightens his grip on him once again. “I think I’m okay right here.” He feels safe, secure. And he finds he doesn’t mind admitting that. 

Bucky decides he’ll take it. He doesn’t need more right now. After all, he has his entire universe right here in his arms. 

[lovelovelovelovelove987654321]

His Knight In Shining Armor

Simon doesn't quite think this is real. You. Him. The warmth. Doesn't quite understand how he can touch you without hurting you. Yet, at the same time, not hurting you is the only thing he understands. He would rather be buried alive- again-, would rather be surrounded by the rot and death that is his brain forever than lift a finger towards you. You are his everything. His sun, his moon, his rock, his ocean tides. Everything he does is governed by the push and pull of your mere existence. 

“Time izzit?” You asked oh, so sleepily, lips pressed against his throat, nose tucked under his jaw. “Time for you to go back to sleep.” And with a small huff, you do. He still marvels at that, you know. The way you trust him so much, that you take everything that comes from his mouth as truth. The way you feel safe enough around him to just close your eyes and sleep. Near him. The monster, the demon, the husk of a human being, the creature made up of the shreds of humanity left on the battlefields once the corpses have been dragged away. The thing that can't bear to look in the mirror because what he sees there shouldn't be allowed to roam the earth. Not in broad daylight, at least. Him.

Yet you just saw a man. A closed off, emotionally unavailable, stubborn man, but a man all the same. He’d surreptitiously ask what your eye scores were after every time you went to the doctor, because maybe you were hallucinating, just a little. A lot. Because how could you see anything worthy of love in him? 

He knew that, in the conventional western view, his body was attractive. He hated this body. It works, and that's good. But he hated how it accompanies him everywhere he went. He wished he could become a fleck of dust, maybe, be breathed in by you and settle in your lungs, listen to your heartbeat for the next several centuries. 

When he looked at his hands, he saw them dripping with dirt-thickened blood. When he saw his legs, he saw them broken and bruised. When he saw his feet, he saw the harbingers of all the death that followed him. When he saw his arms, he saw simply tools of war. When he saw his torso, his chest, he saw Roba. He saw the organs that should have done the word a favor by failing him long ago. He saw the heart he could no longer feel beating. When he saw his face, he saw no trace of the man he might have become. Instead, he sees a machine. 

When he sees his scars- oh, when he sees his scars- he sees the evidence of death and pain and hate and despair that surrounded him everywhere he went. He saw nothing deserving of life. 

But you. You.

When you saw his hands, you saw the hands you held when you were happy or scared. You saw the hands that had caressed you so gently, so lovingly. You saw the hands that had picked you flowers and given you gifts and brushed your hair from your face. (“I love your hands,” You’d told him once, twice, a million times.) When you saw his hands, you saw love.

And that gave him hope.

When you saw his legs, you saw the legs that had tangled with yours as you slept. The legs that took up room on the sofa, the legs that cracked and popped every time he stretched. You saw the legs that got humped by your best friend's dog, the legs that had run to catch up with you at the carnival and the supermarket and the park and the campground and everywhere else you had ever been. When  you saw his legs, you saw love. And that gave him hope.

When you saw his feet, you saw the feet that had tickled yours in the pool, the feet that had gotten buried under the sand at the beach, that wore the stupidest shoes you'd ever seen. You saw freckles and pale skin (“They look a bit like dead fish, Si!” You’d once said as you laughed.) You saw the bad circulation and wool socks and too-long nails. When you saw his feet, you saw love. 

And that gave him hope.

When you saw his arms, you saw the arms that had kept you warm on cold nights. The arms that had held you safe as you watched movies. The arms that had kept you together, had kept you from breaking apart, when you had laughed and cried and everything in between. You saw the arms that reached things on shelves that you couldn't, the arms that were strong enough to lift you up and twirl you around. When you saw his arms, you saw love.

And that gave him hope. 

When you saw his torso, his chest, you saw the solid plane of flesh that you leaned on for support. You saw the dips and curves, all perfect places for you to rest your head. You saw the weighted blanket you used him as. You saw the lungs that breathed in your laughter and smiles 24/7/365. You saw the heartbeat that kept you on track, reminded you that it would all be okay. You saw the organs that kept Simon alive. When you saw his torso, you saw love. 

And that gave him hope. 

When you saw his face, you saw the smiles he reserved only for you. You saw the eye crinkles, the nose scrunches. You saw the lip quirks and the dimples and and the beautiful brown eyes that housed the soul of your beloved. You saw the pale eyelashes, the under-eye bags, the smattering of extra pigmentation that were scattered across the bridge of his nose. You saw the furrowed brows and the crows feet. You saw his laugh and his voice and his whispers and his hums. When you saw his face, you saw love. 

And that gave him hope. 

When you saw his scars- oh, when you saw his scars. You saw his pain, yes. You saw the gruesome stories that were carved into his skin. You saw the death and the blood and the hatred that had imprinted itself in his very being. 

But.

You also saw the proof of how much he loved you. You saw the saga of his love, the confirmation that, no matter what, he would come back home to your arms. You saw perfect trails  to follow with your lips, the perfect places to press caring kisses now and then. You saw silly shapes of animals and constellations and plants and boats and maps of make-believe kingdoms. You saw everything that he was, everything he had done. When you saw his scars, you saw love. 

And that gave him hope.

Hope that he could be a better man. Hope that he could keep you safe and happy forever. Hope that, one day, he might be worthy of your love. Hope that maybe he could be something more than just the sum of his parts. Hope that, perhaps, your goodness might seep into his pores and infect him. Hope.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Do you have more of " Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot"? It's so good that I'd like to read more about it <3

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 10

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,963

You hitch a ride with the Twins. 

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, The Night and The Fury, unedited

<Previous - Next>

“Okay, seriously, who’s going to watch the dragons?” Came the muffled voice of Hiccup from outside. 

You shifted around, arms pulled tightly, together, rubbing against rough, frayed, grainy fabric, too busy trying to reorient yourself to pay any real attention. You were certain this was going to give you a rash.

You ignored the ruckus going on outside, a dragon attack or something, trying to shift so that you weren’t curled completely around, feet pressed against the knot holding your sack closed. 

This wasn’t necessarily what you expected when the Thorston Twins said they had a job for you. You wished you had more time to react before they’d shoved you into the sack. At least enough time to ask for some air holes.

You puffed hot air against your hands, blinking roughly before, all of a sudden, you dropped. You winced as your shoulders met sand, tumbling onto the floor, tumbling out of the sack.

“Yeah, we knew you were going to make us do something stupid like this-”

You landed half on your back and stayed there, staring up at the sky for a good minute as you made an effort to blink away the vertigo.

“-That’s why we brought someone else to take my place.” 

Then, you dug shaky hands into the ground, feeling sand catch under your nails with discomfort. 

“Hey,” You heard the indignant voice of Ruffnut grumble, “What about me?”

“You snooze, you lose, sister.”

You pushed yourself up by your hands, making out the faces of Berk’s Dragon Riders by the dim light of their lanterns, and hoped with a vague suspicion that you hadn’t stumbled your way into another television episode.

“Hi,” You said, swiveling your head slowly in order to get a good view of all of the riders. For some reason, your eyes landed fixedly on Hiccup, who was very notably refusing to look you in the eye.

You furrowed your brows, wondering where the dragon was.

“Tuffnut,” Astrid reprimanded.

They all held simple box lanterns.

Hiccup had his shield, made of Gronckle Iron, on one arm. It reflected dim light, shining silver and white. Pristine, well taken care of and very, very new. And soon-to-be sullied, probably, too.

“Why doesn’t she stay behind and take care of the dragons?” Fishlegs suggested, “Or-or she could take my place instead.”

Their dragons convened behind them. Toothless snuffled at Stormfly as Barf tried to nip at him from behind. His scales were chipped and a dull green and turquoise. He’d probably need a wash soon. 

“We’ve already been over this, Fishlegs.” Hiccup suggested, turning and squinting at him.

You shrugged and turned your eyes to the coast, listening to the sound of claws digging into sand and boots kicking it up. You kept a careful eye on cooling glass, sand red and melted into a small crater, and made a point to stay carefully positioned away from it.

You wondered how difficult it would be to swim back to Berk on your own. Not that you wanted to, anyhow.

“Do you know how to take care of the dragons?” Astrid asked, “We can’t just fly back now.”

“No idea,” You said, just as Tuffnut suggested that they did. Besides that one time during Snoggletog with Hiccup, you weren’t sure you’d ever ridden a one. 

“See?” Fishlegs protested, as they quickly fell into chaos, “I didn’t want to do the exercise much anyways.”

“Well, she-she could always come with me?” Hiccup suggested uneasily, as you dug the toes of your boots into the sand, scooting back slightly as the tides swelled, “I could fly her back and meet up with you guys after you finish the exercise. Or I could go and try to find her a dragon. To fly back on.”

You hoped not. That seemed like a lot of responsibility.

“Dude.”

You sighed, completely disconnected as you stared off at the horizon line. The sea was eerily black this late at night. You wondered how things were doing back where you came from, and whether the ocean back in your world was just as cold.

“Hiccup. Really? Now isn’t the time for that.”

“She’s coming with me,” He said, tapping His prosthetic soundlessly into the sand, as if resisting the urge to shuffle.

“For what?” You asked finally, turning around as you pulled yourself from your musings.

“Do you ever wonder what goes on at the breeding ground when the dragons aren’t there? Is it just one big hunk of rock? Or do you think some of them stick around?” You walked alongside Hiccup, trying not to let your feet drag as you walked alongside him.

“Actually, I’m not sure.” Hiccup nodded shiftily, still not able to look you in the eye. His mouth opened and closed once or twice, as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

Your hands rubbed at your arms through your thin tunic as you very much wished you were back on Berk, in your bed. But your landlords had just started taking rent.

You wrinkled your nose, trying not to chatter your teeth.

“Do you want my, ah, coat?” Hiccup asked, eventually, before trying awkwardly to pull it off. It was a bit hard considering his hands were full, and so you held out your hand in an offer to hold the lantern.

“No, it’s okay. I mean I wouldn’t want to- take it from you. It’s cold. You can keep it. I can carry- oh.”

Hiccup had settled down his shield and pulled off his coat, offering it to you. You took it with unsure hands, your knuckle brushing gently across his fingertip.

“It’s fine, I have plenty more.” Hiccup said, picking up his shield. It looked like he was about to try and dust it off but thought better of it.

“Really?” You asked. You sniffed it suspiciously, feeling the fur in hand. It was a lot shorter than it had been before, nearly down to the leather and definitely singed in some parts, but it was still just as cozy.

“Well, no, but I was outgrowing it anyways.” Hiccup shrugged with false casualty, head facing away but his eyes looking back at you, just in his green tunic. 

You couldn’t make out much else, especially not just by lamplight. He didn’t look like he was outgrowing it.

The fur was incredibly soft between your fingertips, though even without leaning your head in close you could smell the heavy scent of smoke and metal. Hiccup had probably left it in the forge overnight or something. You had heard the Chief complaining about it before.

“Wait, you mean you’re giving it to me? Like, giving it, giving it?” Hiccup flushed under the scrutiny. You decided to dial it back.

“Well yeah, the red-” He stammered.

“-Tunic. Right. Well, I promise I’ll return it to you after.”

“No, you won’t.” He insisted stubbornly, metaphorically digging his heels in. You wondered how neither he nor any of the other Vikings on Berk were ever cold at all. 

“I will,” You stared stubbornly back, the two of you locked in a sort of staring contest until you saw Hiccup’s eyes focus on something behind you.

Mournfully, you broke eye contact, and turned to look behind you where, just over a ledge were the smoky beginnings of a fire.

“...Great.” Hiccup sighed, taking the first few steps around you.

You weren’t even sure how they got so far ahead of you two and had the time to put up a fire, but that was just as fine. As long as there was something warm.

“Oh, cool.” You said, tossing Hiccup’s coat back at him as you quickly sped your way out of his range, “A fire. Are we allowed to even have fires?”

“I don’t- you’d have to ask Astrid…”

“What happened to only dragons being able to find Dragon Island?” You mumbled to yourself drowsily, though you were sure you already knew the answer. 

A lot of the smoke around the island had cleared since most of the dragons fled it, and it was a lot more accessible now that it didn’t have an armada of scales to defend it.

You wondered if coming back was at all traumatizing for the dragons. Honestly, you were surprised the island had any shrubbery at all, though you supposed that the Timberjacks might need it. 

You wondered how the Berserkers discovered this island, if at all an island suddenly appearing from the mist was startling to them. Or if they were too unfamiliar with the area to notice or care. The island was in Hooligan Territory, after all.

You stood at the edge of the treeline as Dagur lifted Hiccup into the air, angrily recounting their last meeting on the island. You had a small dagger clutched in hand, though kept it vaguely out of view, waiting for either Hiccup to signal you, though he was currently enthusiastically shaking his head ‘no,’ or for Dagur to start acting just a little bit too deranged.

“And then you kicked me off!” Dagur grit out angrily, “Why are you here? Are you planning to steal my kill, again?” 

Dagur ended the last bit slowly, holding out his sword, the tip of it pointing threateningly towards Hiccup. 

“What am I doing here?” Hiccup asked nervously, and irritatedly, somehow, looking back and forth between you and Dagur.

You had to resist the urge to back away as your heart picked up speed.

You asked yourself what in the world had happened between the two the last time they were on Berk together; if this was supposed to happen.

You mouthed a nervous ‘What do I do?’ back at him as you took a hasty step past what looked to be the flayed skin of a Gronkle.

“You know what? I know exactly what you’re doing he-...” Dagur paused, following Hiccup's line of sight. His face scrunched up as if he had only just realized you were there. In all fairness, he probably had.

“You.”

You tried to pull your dagger- well, Hiccup’s, really- further behind you so that he wouldn’t see it, though you had very little hope as his eyes caught it, probably glinting back the light of the fire.

“Nothing! We’re doing nothing.” Hiccup said, laughing nervously and pushing Dagur’s sword down with his fingertips by the flat end as dread coiled in your gut.

“You…” Dagur began with a sneer, shoulders high. Then, suddenly, like the sky after a heavy rain, his face cleared, “You’re on a date!”

You let out a heavy sigh, which morphed into mildly hysterical laughter as the aggressive lines of his face smoothed itself out into a false, strained grim. Then you grimaced, certain you’d missed something in between then and the last time you encountered Dagur.

“A date?!” Hiccup asked, as you attempted to smother your confusion. You weren’t quite sure where he got that idea. You wondered next when his mood would flip.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you!” Dagur finished, opening his arms wide and taking the first steps forward into your direction, “I’m going to enjoy tearing the both of you apart!”

“I wish you had.” You grumbled sourly, very pointedly ignoring the last bit, afraid to poke the proverbial dragon.

You kept a safe distance from the swords and other various weaponry buried into the ground everywhere in sight around the campfire. You took a moment to stare wide-eyed at a skull, a Nadder, presumably, sticking out from a branch hanging over the clearing.

“A firecracker, that one.” The orange firelight flickered menacingly across Dagur’s face, whose eyes were narrowing again. You could see a vein on the corner of his forehead beating. You imagined it might be very easy for him to over take you with an axe, and even easier to hide your remains somewhere on the island.

“No, not really,” You mumbled, wincing, relaxing the hand holding the borrowed knife. You really did need to get one of your own. 

“The two of you! Like two elements! Fire and,” Dagur looked over Hiccup, “Something else just as… Ferocious.”

You grimaced as he turned around, shifting away as best you could without being noticed.

“Fire isn’t an element.” You muttered under your breath as Hiccup shuffled his way uncomfortably back towards you. You wondered if it was too soon for you and Hiccup to leave and get the heck out of dodge.

Dagur laughed erratically, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Though, to be fair, you preferred this version of him a lot more to the version you met on Berk. He was much less aggressive this way. Or, at least, purposefully aggressive. Towards you.

“Huh?” Hiccup asked disconcertedly.

“Fire isn’t an element. It’s a reaction. I think,” You stared blankly at Dagur’s retreating back.

“So, what are you here for?” Hiccup asked Dagur as your shoulders bumped into each other. He pulled his dusty shield higher in front of you and further to his left to it covered some of you both as Dagur pulled up an especially wicked serrated blade from the dirt.

Scouring through your memories, you tried to look for something, anything to get you out of this situation. You glanced at Hiccup guiltily. You felt a little bad sometimes, for keeping all these future things to yourself. But you weren’t sure who would believe you, and it had been a whole year and you realized with alarm that you were beginning to lose a few things. 

You tried not to think too much about it. The concept was frightening to say the least.

“The only thing worth being out for,” Dagur paused, “Dragon hunting.”

“What happened?” You asked under your breath, leaning sideways closer to Hiccup. You felt the tips of a tuft of his hair scratch the side of your face as you searched Dagur’s, loathe to look away as if it might tell you the answer.

You were half inclined to believe it was your little tussle back on Berk that caused it, but you were sure that wasn’t enough to inspire manslaughter, at least not to any sane mind. 

“Oh, well, I said somethings, he said some things, a few words were exchanged-Most of which I probably should have kept to myself-” Hiccup mumbled hurriedly and ruefully back, speaking just above a whisper, “We really need to get out of here.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?” Dagur scowled, turning back to you.

You felt a bead of sweat slide down your neck, noting from the corner of your eye Hiccup forming the beginning of an answer.

“We’ve got somewhere else to be!” You grinned testily, answering before Hiccup could, “Supposed to meet up with, uh, the rest of our group. A large amount of people. Training exercise. Everyone knows about it, really.”

“What a coincidence. I didn’t come alone either. You’ll have fun explaining where you and your little friends are to my armada.” Dagur stalked up to the two of you, pulling weapons from the ground as he strode. 

“Gods, what is it with you and your armada?” Hiccup exclaimed, gesturing with his shield. 

As Dagur approached and Hiccup’s shield became less and less of an obstacle between the two of you, you took the opportunity to kick up between his legs, not at all taking the time to watch as Dagur folded over, voice wrought with anger, “Now, that was a little-”

Hiccup engaged his shield partially, dropping it hard so that he delivered a heavy blow to Dagur’s head, and dropped his lantern right by the fire, its metal skeleton bouncing against wood and stone.

Hiccup was smart, sometimes. More mechanically inclined than booksmart, at least outright. You found that to be one of the most intelligent decisions Hiccup ever made.

“Come on!” You began, just as Hiccup began shouting for Toothless.

Hiccup sprinted slightly ahead, collapsed shield in hand as he jumped fully onto Toothless’ saddle. 

You followed with a nervous laugh, a skid and a kick of dirt as you stumbled, nearly tripping as you slung your leg over Toothless’ saddle and slid close to Hiccup’s back.

Hiccup was bent forward with the ghost of a fright and a shade of awkward confidence in his voice as he urged you forwards and Toothless into the sky.

Said dragon launched very soon after, making a quick effort to catch up to the rest of the Rider’s dragons, Dagur storming behind you across the clifftops.

You turned to look back quickly, bringing your hand up to Hiccup’s shoulder in an attempt to stay stable even as Toothless flew like a rocket, splitting through the air.

Your heart pounding, adrenaline doing numbers. You felt Hiccup’s heart through his back, like some sort of war drum. You worried he might actually have a heart attack.

You felt his torso stiffening as you wrapped your arms around his middle, though he remained razor focused on the sky in front of him. On the gently curved horizon line in the distance.

Hiccup’s shoulders jumped under your hands as you moved your hands onto his shoulders. Quickly, you pressed up close to his back, so close your upper thighs were pressed to the back of Hiccup’s, in an effort to fight against the pushing wind, and brought your head over his shoulder, resisting the urge to bury your wind-bitten nose into the collar of your tunic. 

Being in the sky gave you the perfect opportunity to say it. It was probably inappropriate timing, but as you found Dragon island becoming more and more of a speck in the distance, you found that you didn’t care.

“See? The Earth is round!”

[eywa-eveng]

ɪɪ. sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏɴᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ᴊᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʟʟʏ, sᴜʟʟʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴹᴱᵀᴷᴬᵞᴵᴺᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 12.3k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst, fluff

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – widower!Jake, slight injury

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪᴠ

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @itscheybaby @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @goldenmoonbeam @ladylovegood-69 @myheartfollower @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz

A storm rolled in with the darkness of eclipse, shutting the bright eye of the sky as swollen clouds blotted out the pale light of Naranawm and the stars. Wind howled through the night like screaming banshees, and waves hissed as they crashed to shore. Even now the water is still dark and turbulent, choked with seafoam as the waves rise as high as leaping nalutsa past the safety of the seawall. The small outcroppings of sand and stone are drowned in the rising tide as the storm rages on. Now, it is close to midday but the only light bleeding through the thick covering of clouds comes in bright flashes of lightning that rend the sky in splinters of gleaming white. It is as dazzling as it is dangerous.

The waves have grown high enough to splash over the hanging paths that flow like woven rivers throughout the village, wetting your feet as you return from your sister’s marui. Rain means the day is spent inside, away from the fitful waters that could easily trap even the strongest swimmer of the clan. It is a time for menial tasks, weaving, crafting, and mending. Ronal had traded your finished baskets for another filled with freshly dyed sea fronds and shells she had collected, dismissing you for the day. You sift through the materials on your way home, nearly tripping over Tuk as she sits outside your marui. 

Her legs hang dangerously over the edge of the path, the strength of the tide pushing and pulling her skinny limbs as it so pleases. Another wave could sweep her away from your marui and you’re quick to pull her away, tutting over her lack of sense until you remember this is the first storm that’s passed over Awa’atlu since her arrival. Storms do not shake the forest as they do the sea. Your arm catches her waist, lifting her to your hip to carry her inside. She is already chattering about how dull the day has been having been confined to her family’s marui all morning. 

“It is only rain.” She says as you set her down inside. She stays at your side, pacing in your shadow as you relight the torches that substitute the sun’s light. Soft shadows shiver and jump in the warm glow of the flickering firelight, tracing dark shapes across the woven walls as Tuk explores your home. It is her first time here and you don’t mind her curiosity as she leafs through your belongings. There is nothing secret to be found in the things that fill the space of your home. She stops before your weapons, yellow eyes drawing over the sea crystal blade of your largest spear. It is a weapon meant for battle and hunting. Every member of the clan has one, but you are not a hunter nor a warrior. It is something you’ve seldom touched since its construction following the completion of your rites as one of the People. Instead you keep to smaller spears and arrows when weapons are needed. 

“Rain makes the ocean hostile. Even the strongest swimmers can be trapped under a tall wave. It is best to stay out of the water until the storm has passed.” 

“But it’s so boring!” She grouses, coming up beside you with your box of beads and combs in hand. “Sa’nok, can I play with your hair?” You nod, having settled yourself to begin making something of the supplies your sister had given you. There are glimmering shells and beautifully made beads, enough to keep your hands busy for hours to come. By the time someone else comes rushing into your marui you’re nearly done knotting together the intricate pattern of a new top. Neteyam looks frantic as he ducks inside the closed flap, wiping rain from his brow. 

“Sa’nok, have you seen–Tuk!” He calms as soon as he sees his sister seated happily at your side, fingers still playing in the long waves of your hair. Her braids are thick and clumsy as she threads shells and beads into each loop but she seems content with the work she’s done. She’s gentle in her work, never pulling or tangling as she goes. 

“I have been looking for you. Do not go off without saying where you are going. You know Sempul doesn’t like that.” In the corner of your eye you see Tuk’s ears droop and she moves in closer to you, hands holding your arm for comfort as she hides her face in your hair. Neteyam’s expression softens at the sight. His voice may be lighter with youth but when he speaks it carries the weight of Jake’s words. He is the eldest son, a heavy burden to bear. It is expected that he will look after his siblings as well as his father does and the stress of it must prick at his heart the same as it does any parent’s. More so considering the blame that is laid at his feet when he fails to meet his father’s expectations. You’ve seen it when Lo’ak got himself into trouble, the great disappointment shining in Jake’s eyes as he blamed one son for the actions of another. If there are cords twining the Sully family together it pains you to imagine how frayed each of them might be. Neteyam to Lo’ak, Jake to his sons. It makes your heart heavy to think of the pain each of them bears trying to keep each other safe and happy, but it is the nature of a family. Just as the thread between you and Ronal had grown thin upon the Sullys’ arrival these things can be mended with time. It is the way of the All Mother’s great balance. In life there is both darkness and light and both must be felt equally despite the pain of it. 

“I’m not mad, Tuk,” Neteyam says finally, kneeling beside you and his sister. “I was worried.” She nods and moves from her place hidden in the thick tresses of your hair. The two of them remain by your side, talking between themselves as you continue your crafting. 

The storm wanes as the day comes to a close, thick clouds parting enough that the tied flap of the marui can be raised once more. Neteyam does it for you, eager to help when you mention the quieting winds. What had been incessant howling earlier has soothed to a soft whisper that has warmed in the soft, misting rain. The tide is still high but the water isn’t so choppy without great gusts of wind stirring the water. Tuk is quick to abandon her braiding to bask in the revealed light of eclipse. For a few minutes there’s nothing but brilliant yellow light cast over the island before it winks out like a torch being snuffed. Light is quick to return as the stars begin to shine and the darkened ocean finally finds its light as the stilled waters give way to the faint glow of syuratan hidden beneath the wavering surface. Tuk hangs over the edge, little legs kicking in the air as she sticks her head into the calmed waters. She rises with a giggling splash accompanied by the clicking of an ilu as the larger animals finally emerge from their shelter beneath the floating village. 

The rest of Awa’atlu resurfaces as well, breathing a great sigh of relief as if rising after a long dive. Children just as restless as Tuk rush to the water’s edge and she goes to play with them a small ways down the path. Her voice is still clear as you begin to prepare for dinner, lighting a cookfire and gathering ingredients. Usually the meals you prepare at home are for yourself only so it is a welcomed change to have more mouths to feed. Happiness swells like cresting waves in your chest as you watch the two of them eat, enjoying the food you’ve made for them. It is another moment of stolen motherhood. They are not your children but you feel responsible for them. For their health, for their happiness. 

It is not only because you were tsakarem. There will always be a piece of you that wants to look after the members of your clan but these children–Jakesully’s children–feel different when you think of them. It makes your heart break and mend all at once as Tuk makes herself comfortable in the cradle of your folded legs when she’s done eating, content to fall asleep against your chest as you talk with Neteyam. Your conversation is aimless as you speak over the dying cookfire, torches slowly dwindling their light until there’s only the blue glow of Pandora around you. He tells you of his exploration around the island and his training with Ao’nung and the others. 

“They laugh at me because I cannot throw a spear. I was taught to use a bow. Throwing arrows without it seems strange.” His complaint holds no malice. There is a smile playing on his lips. No longer are the arguments between the children rife with malice. Now there are only well humored jokes between friends, like teasing siblings.

“You will learn,” you hum. “It is hard to master a spear. I could not throw in a straight line for many months when I was first learning. Ao’nung was the same. Watch when you’re training. Sometimes he will still throw a bit to the left. Learning when to release takes patience.” 

It’s in the pale light that Neteyam’s face seems to change, drawing into a severe expression as his eyes empty of mirth despite your light tone. When he looks up at you again there’s something heavy and longing in his eyes. 

“I don’t know if ma sempul has said it, but thank you. For everything. I know that we are outsiders and that tsahìk Ronal did not want us here to start. But you have made this place feel like home for us. For me.” Your lips part to say something but all that forms on your tongue is his name, filled with a heavy maternal anguish. Here is this child taken from his home and all that he’s known because there are demons looking for his blood. He is fighting. Everyday he has to fight to find happiness here under such dire circumstances. There are times when you see them forget, when Awa’atlu truly seems like home but the soul doesn’t forget where it’s been. 

“Oh, Neteyam,” you say again, trying to reach for him. He lets you comfort him for only a moment before standing. 

“It is late. My father will be wondering where we are.” And like that the illusion shatters. You are not his mother. It is not your place to soothe and placate. It’s a small miracle that he does not take Tuk from your arms, that he lets you walk beside him back to his marui. Jake is still awake though Kiri and Lo’ak have gone to sleep for the night. He takes Tuk from you to lay her down in her usual place and you take a steadying breath before placing a hesitant hand on Neteyam’s head. His shoulders raise for a moment, tail stiffening behind him before he slowly relaxes and leans into your touch. 

He wants to be comforted, you realize, but it seems that he’s gone without for so long that he’s forgotten how to accept it. Not for the first time your thoughts stray to his mother. She’s little more than a wisp of a thought in your mind, vague and undefined. It’s the one thing you can’t bring yourself to ask them about despite the itching in the back of your head to know even as little as her name. But the thought of her must be like a healing wound to the family she’s left behind and you won’t be the one to tear at their scars until they’re bleeding anew. 

Neteyam leans against your side, not hugging but allowing you to smooth over his braids for a moment longer until he squares his shoulders and steps away. His eyes are towards his feet, avoiding your knowing gaze as he bids you goodnight. There’s a hesitance in his steps as if he is forcing himself towards his own bedroll in the marui. Whatever comfort he has taken in your gentle touch has soothed and disturbed his soul in equal parts. There’s conflict in his eyes when you finally see them flashing in the darkness of their home. He wants to accept your affection but something is holding him back. Before you can ask Jake takes his son’s place beside you, pulling you away from the sleeping children towards the beach. The water is colder than usual and nearly to your knees as the shore is buried beneath the heightened tide. 

“I missed you today.” He says as he pulls you further into the water. There are others around, already enjoying the ocean’s embrace after going a day without it. The air is filled with the hushed sounds of laughter and lapping water. 

“I heard you were out hunting.” Ronal had given you simple chores today but Tonowari was nowhere to be seen each time you went to deliver your mending and weaving to your sister. You assumed he’d taken a small party inland to hunt in the flooded rivers as they usually do when the ocean becomes inhospitable. Jake has proved to be a skilled hunter in the time since he’s arrived at Awa’atlu and it’s curried him favor with the olo'eyktan. 

“Yeah,” he groans, rolling his shoulders back. 

“Are you tired? You should rest.” Your ears perk up in concern.

“Nah, I’d rather spend time with you.” It makes your heart flutter in your chest but the happiness is dampened by the feeling of selfishness. This man is not yours and yet he makes your heart soar with only a few words. It isn’t fair to him or yourself to be so fixated on the feeling but you can hardly help the way you feel. If it were possible to tear the roots of affection from your chest and leave only thoughts of a newly kindled friendship, you would do it without hesitation. But Eywa was seen fit to fill your vitra with dangerous desire. You want to ask the Great Mother what she wants with you, why she’s chosen to test you in this way, but it will do no good. The seed has been planted and you must helplessly watch it blossom despite the inevitability of your feelings wilting in the face of rejection.

In the pale blue light of the watchful eye above, you decide to toss those thoughts to the wind. Jake is smiling at you like he’s never seen anything lovelier than your face in the starlight and it makes you want to be reckless with your heart if only for one night. Before eclipse breaks and the sun returns you’ll pretend that this man is yours no matter the pain that will come later. 

“Come. I will race you to the seawall.” It is a game played between more novice swimmers, children trying to prove their prowess amongst their friends but Jake smiles anyway. Nì’eveng you’ve taken to calling him. Childish. The look on his face is nothing but playful as you both dive into the open water. There is no doubt that you’ll beat him. Even as he’s steadily improved in the water he still isn’t built for the ocean the same as you. Your body is strong from your arms to your tail and Jake is woefully behind by the time you climb onto the lowest levels of the terraces. They’re alight with shades of green, blue, and purple that shine brighter with each step you take towards the top. But Jake is faster on land, longer legs easily bounding up the terraces until he catches you by the waist just before you reach the top. It’s the closest the two of you have ever been as he swings you in a circle until your laughter echoes across the darkened sky. His arms don’t move when he sets you down. Instead his face finds the column of your neck, purrs sounding in your ears as his nose traces over the rippling stripes of your skin. 

“Got you.” His voice is an entrancing drawl that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels as if the world has tilted and only you feel the shift as Jake’s hands soothe over your waist, keeping you close to his chest as he noses behind your ear. It’s intimate in a way you’ve never experienced. There has never been anyone to court you, to treat you with such affection. No man of the Metkayina would dare even after Tonowari passed over you in favor of your sister. Yet here is this man from a place you’ve never seen, giving you everything that you’ve ever wanted.

“You caught me.” You agree and Jake laughs against the shell of your ear. He mumbles something as he squeezes you closer. You turn in his arms, face drawn in confusion. 

“Always,” he says again. “I’ll always catch you.” His forehead presses to yours bright eyes clouding your vision of anything other than him. 

“I’m not running.” It’s a lie but you say it to preserve the fantasy. Just for this night you want to pretend that you belong to him in truth. 

“You are.” He says and the illusion is shattered. His arms around you begin to feel too tight and his breath too close as it washes over your parted lips. This isn’t how you should be acting with a mated man no matter how you feel towards him. But when you try to pull away his arms tighten. 

“There you go again. What are you running from, girl?” You shake your head, voice lost somewhere in your throat as you try to do exactly what you’ve said you aren’t. You want to run away but your heart will stay with you. These feelings of yours won’t be easily abandoned as they beat in your chest like a drum. They will follow you no matter how far you go. You don’t get farther than turning away from him before he has you in his arms again. His hand settles over your thumping heart, fingertips tracing over the shape of your tattoo. 

“I feel you,” he says, hand moving from your fluttering heart to your throat, “I hear you.” Your breathing comes in stuttered draws, lungs suddenly constricted with the wave of emotions crashing inside you. “I See you.” He says finally, lips caressing your ear. When your shuddering breaths calm he turns you to face him again. All that beams in his eyes is sincerity. Yearning and something close to desperation. He wants you to accept him. 

“You’re not mine.” It’s a warbled cry as tears swell in your eyes. 

“I’m yours. I’m all yours, yawne.” It makes your knees go weak and you fall from his arms, landing gracelessly in the water at your feet. 

“I can’t do this.” Jake flinches back, his hands falling from where they’d been reaching out to you. “You’ve mated with another. I can’t have you.” 

Never have you heard of a mated pair in which one of them had been mated before. When a mate dies, that does not make room for another. Tsaheylu is sacred, shared only between two lovers. What Jake is asking is something your heart cannot understand. The thoughts of the woman you’ve never met, the woman that came before you, keeps you from letting yourself love him fully. He is hers. Whatever part of him wants you now, it is not the whole of him. It is inevitable that when mates are separated by death, a part of the living dies with the one that went to Eywa. He will always be hers before he is yours. Or perhaps Jakesully will be different as he is in all things. 

He is Na’vi but he was also tawtute. It was Eywa that decided his fate as Toruk Makto, that allowed him to have the body that he does today. Perhaps you are simply another part of his fate. Another bead in his songcord. Each thought swims through your head quicker than the last, growing more absurd with each passing moment. It would be so easy to ignore it, to reach out and be with Jake in the way that he’s asking you to. But your heart is delicate, your soul conflicted. He isn’t yours. And yet he is. His heart is in his hands as he stares at you, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl. You’ve got me. I’m here. Whenever you want me, I’m here. I promise.” He carries you home once you’ve cried yourself dry, laying you down and pressing a kiss to your forehead before going to join his children. It breaks your heart to watch him leave but it is where he belongs. His children will always need him more than you. A lonely tsakarem will always pale in comparison to the remnants of the life he led before you met. His mate, their children. If you accept him it will be as if you are a mismatched bead looped at the end of a bracelet. Dull and out of place. 

For once you do not rise with the sun as it breaks from behind Naranawm’s shadow. There’s a soreness in your eyes as you try to shield them from the burning white light of the morning sun as it burns unfettered after spending a day under heavy clouds. Tears have dried on your cheeks and Tuk’s braids have become tangled and undone after what was surely a fitful sleep. You remove them slowly, collecting all the ornaments she added as they fall into your lap. There are things that need to be done, tasks that need completing, but you ignore those responsibilities to hide your face in the forest. You take your time in bathing and cleaning your hair, spending too long in the memories of the hands that touched you last night. It’s as if he’s still with you. So gentle and earnest as he caressed your skin. 

The memories linger like a bruise when you finally drag yourself from the bathing pool, sore and shameful. Once you’ve dressed you abandon the village to visit the one place you’ve been avoiding since the moment you met Jakesully. There was fear in your heart at the thought of bonding with the Ranteng Utralti. Fear of what the Great Mother might show you, what your ancestors might tell you. It still lingers even as you leave your ilu to bask in the pale purple light of the glowing fronds of the spirit tree. Tree spirits swim around you, yellow fish shining bright as stars. The waters around the tree are deserted aside from the animals. No one to judge your hesitancy to commune with Eywa after so long. The fronds of the tree sway in the gentle current, waiting patiently for you to gather the courage to make tsaheylu. It nearly knocks the breath from your lungs when you finally join your tswin to the tree. 

There are no thoughts in your mind as you join Eywa. There is no one that you want to see, no ancestor you wish to visit, but the Great Mother embraces you still. It feels like the gentlest hug as the colors flashing behind your eyes fades to something tangible yet distant all the same. 

Eywa has brought you to a place you do not know. It is like the deep forest of Awa’atlu yet different. The air doesn’t carry the scent of the sea. It smells rich and loamy as thick grass cushions each of your curious steps. Trees that seem to touch the sky grow around you and sunlight peaks through the leaves in dappled beams, warming your skin for only a moment before you pass beneath another shadow. In the richly colored forest you look out of place. Skin bright as polished river stone, beaming through the deep greens of the foliage. You walk until you see something of interest. The trees thin to a small clearing and you stop in your tracks. The vision wavers as you fight against what the Great Mother has to show you, shimmering like heat rising off sand before solidifying as you force your heartbeat to calm. 

A long structure sits before you. Grayish black the same as the buzzing ikran that had carried Norm and Max across the ocean. Metal, Jake had called it. You’ve only ever heard the word. It is part of the Na’vi Way set by the Three Laws of Eywa. Never use metals from the ground. It is something made from digging and stripping the earth. Harmful. It tosses off beams of light as you slink closer, staying close to the ground despite the lack of danger. There’s another metal beast in the clearing. Seemingly broken and covered in moss and vines. Inside is a small headless skeleton with two arrows through its ribs. Tawtute. They have been dead for long enough to turn to bone and yet their strange metal body has not returned to the earth it was stripped from. Even the well-made arrows have gathered rot where Eywa has begun to reclaim them. 

It seems so unnatural for the metal to be so unflinching and yet you can’t temper your curiosity. You lean closer only to burn your hands on the shiny beast as if you’ve touched an open flame. Whatever this metal material is, it collects heat like a black stone left in the sun. The tawtute structure is just as smoldering beneath your skin as you vault inside. The floor makes a sound like shifting seashells as you land, a strange material like shards of crystal tinkling underfoot as you slink through the small space, crouching in the unaccommodating space. It feels odd to find yourself in a place like this and yet this is where Eywa wants you to be. 

There is a Law against things like this. Laying brick, building that which cannot be renewed or replenished. Metal remains. It is cold inside despite the sun shining just beyond the opening in the wall, and very little of Pandora has dared to reach inside. This is a place of sawtute and the forest recognizes that. Nothing other than pollen and lichen has found its way inside. There is something here for you. Something Eywa needs you to see among the ruins of the sawtute. There’s a childlike curiosity to your exploration as you pick through the remains of the banished demons. 

There are strange pieces of color, thin as leaves cut into neat shapes. They’re untouched by rot yet the colors seem wrong, slightly faded like an old mat left in the sun. There are people captured in the strange, dull threads of color. Two of them look familiar in a distant way, like you’d seen them from afar but only once. It isn’t until you bring the tiny thing close to your face that you realize you’ve seen pieces of these women in other people. Their eyes, their noses. Small details that you’ve noticed in others. The uniltìrantokx is even wearing a necklace you’ve seen before though it takes you a beat to place who’d worn it.

“Kiri?” The frozen memory jumps from your fingers like you’ve been struck and crystal shards dig into your knees as you stumble to the ground. The sharp pain rushes through you with startling vividness. Never have you been harmed while cradled in the Great Mother’s arms and the pain disrupts the vision, twisting and changing it as you try to stand. Light contorts and a sharp pain splits through your head, thrusting you back into your body with an aborted gasp. 

Bubbles cloud your vision as you try to calm your racing mind. Who were those women with faces so familiar they seemed nearly tangible. Your mind races as your lungs pinch with exertion after all your air left in a warbled cry. Air seems far out of reach as you swim towards the light of the sun kissing the gentle waves. You surface with a strangled shout that echoes across the floating islands of the Cove, only treading water long enough to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest as your ears cloud with the sound of your rushing blood. It takes all your focus to force your body to silence, to calm. Absently, you check your knees for blood, half expecting to find shards still embedded in your skin. When you find nothing other than the pattern of your skin your heart steadies enough for you to dive again. This time there is no hesitation as you connect to the Ranteng Utralti. There is a place for you in what Eywa has shown you. Everyone lives within the Great Mother. She remembers. Someone had been there before you. Someone precious to you. The Great Mother knows your heart, knows what it is you seek. A purpose. An answer. 

Show me, you whisper in your mind. Tell me. 

The vision is different as the flashing colors fade to night, the seldom patches of sky alight with stars and a gentle breeze lifting the curls of your hair as you stand at the precipice of a spiraling tree root. The sounds floating through the darkness are so different from the steady lapping of water. There is life all around you, just beyond sight as your footsteps stir up bursts of green syuratan. Everything feels new, like you’re a child again as you walk along the path the Great Mother has set you on. Specks of white like tanhì glow through the soft light of blue and purple leaves overhead, drifting on the faint breeze. They descend like a gentle rain and feel just as faint as one lands in your outstretched hand. More follow, tickling across your skin as they turn your body a pure shade of white. Eywa’s presence strengthens with each one that brushes against you and you realize they must be atokirina’. So different from the radiant seeds of your own spirit tree and yet the feeling is the same. 

They dance over your body like lapping waves before departing in a glimmering cloud. It would be lovely to watch them float away if an echoing screech didn’t follow their departure. You don’t dare to turn and face what made such a deafening noise. Instead you clumsily sprint towards cover, wide tail doing little to balance your strides as you find an alcove in a tree to hide yourself. The bark is rough against your skin after being so gently touched by the hands of the Great Mother and your vision wavers once more as fear punches through your chest in an acidic burst. Never have you encountered danger when connected to the Ranteng Utralti. Never have you known Eywa to lead those seeking guidance into peril. But you’ve been hurt, you’ve bled. And now another shriek crashes through the quiet of the forest, echoing eerily through the treetops. The distant branches seem to shudder, shedding leaves as something crashes through the foliage. Is this the result of your covetous heart? The Great Mother turning her back on you?

A scream rips from your throat, nearly burning with its intensity as a giant ikran descends through the hole it’s torn through the canopy. The roots shudder beneath its mighty weight as it lands where you’d been standing and your thick limbs tremble clumsily, hands tucking into the groves of the tree bark to keep yourself upright and hidden. This beast is like no ikran you’ve ever seen though you’ve seen so few in the distant atolls of the Metkayina. Yet this one seems intrinsically different. Large and bright in the night as it spreads its fearsome wings, fanged jaw opening to let out another bellow that has your ears folding tight against your head. A pained noise slips from your lips as its voice splits through your head and it’s enough to draw the creature’s attention to you. Its eyes seem to find you even in the shadows and you’re reminded that the two of you are bright beings in a darkened forest. For a moment your heart stops and yet the beast doesn’t charge, doesn’t let out another terrifying scream. Instead it sits as if waiting for you to show yourself. 

Every instinct carved into you since birth begs you to stay hidden and yet, with hesitant steps, you emerge from your hiding place. If this is your punishment for daring to think a man like Jake could ever be yours then you’ll have to face it. 

The ikran fixes its four eyes on you, wings spreading to block anything but the warm shades of its striped skin. It is the color of the sun in a sea of shades of green and blue, a torch over the ocean. A fire, your mind sings. Wings like flames. The song of Toruk Makto. It is one you remember well, sung more often in the years after the sawtute were banished from Pandora. The ikran before you is no ikran. It is toruk. Last Shadow. A breath leaves you in an awed rush as tears begin to burn in your eyes. Toruk stays as still as an animal can be as you approach him. There is still fear in your heart, something instinctual that is sewn into the very fabric of your soul. And yet it bleeds away as you reach to touch him. Part of you still expects a quick reproach, a snap of his mighty jaw to remove your hand. But he only shifts his weight and watches as you touch the blue crests of his head. Any fear still lingering in your chest dissipates at the feeling of his head in the palm of your small hand. 

You came to the Great Mother with a storm wailing inside you, burying you beneath the dark waters of uncertainty, and she has eased it. All at once the dark clouds of your conflicted spirit seem to part and warmth blooms in its place. Toruk shuts his eyes and leans further into your hand as if he too can feel the stillness finally easing inside you. 

He is your answer. Eywa has heard you. 

The days that follow pass in a haze. Even as your heart has been soothed your mind is still racing. It’s all you can do to pick up with your daily tasks, to pretend the Great Mother hasn’t just laid a magnificent blessing into your hands. 

“Sa’nok, watch me!” Naleyä squeals before gulping in a deep breath and diving to the bottom of the pool, drawing you out of your own head. The tide pools are still overflowing after the storm and it’s made the children more confident now that the water has grown a bit deeper. They’re light as seabirds floating on their round tummies as they paddle in circles around you, daring to dive for a few moments before resurfacing with little gasps and eager smiles. It’s still shallow enough that you could reach Naleyä just by bending down but she seems determined to prove how well she’s learned as she picks up a shell resting at the bottom to bring you when she resurfaces. Mu’rak intercepts the gift, curious fingers taking the shell before he passes it to you for approval. It’s a simple shell. Flat and ridged, the color of a pinkish sunrise. You’ve collected many of them in your life but each is just as precious as the last. More so when gifted by one of your students. You press the shell to your lips before tucking it away in your medicine pouch. 

“Me!” Peylil says, already filling his lungs with a big gust of air but you deflate him with a pinch of your fingers on his puffed cheeks. He’s young, too young to have even fully grown his tswin braid. He’s eager to follow but he’s only just learned to swim, hands still gripping cautiously at your loincloth to keep from floating too far in the pool. It will take some time before he is ready to dive, even in the shallowest of waters. He pouts up at you and for a moment he almost reminds you of Tuk. The thought is easily plucked away by the sound of a horn. It isn’t the same sound that had announced the arrival of the Sullys and there are no swooping silhouettes emerging from the haze of sunlight. Instead your eyes find the break in the sprawling seawall that lines the horizon. A rush of water rises like a cloud and through the mist comes the familiar crest of a tulkun. In an instant the feelings sitting like stones in your chest turn to dust and fall away. The tulkun have returned. 

Once more Awa’atlu stops but there isn’t a storm to dampen this day. Everything has been abandoned to welcome the tulkun home. It is a time for reunions. For stories of what has come to pass since the tulkun last graced the waters of Awa’atlu. Whatever thoughts still lingers in your head are lost in the face of sharing this moment with those you hold dearest. The children are gathered quickly by their parents eager to introduce the younglings to their spirit family. You set off to find the children that have claimed your heart, but Kiri is the only one left inside when you reach the Sully marui looking as downtrodden as she’s been in the weeks since her seizure. It makes you wonder what the Great Mother might have shown her on that day. You’ve yet to mention what you’d seen of her mother, but if Eywa blessed with a meeting with toruk, then Kiri could’ve seen something truly amazing. And yet she hasn’t spoken of what she saw or who she spoke to. It isn’t your place to ask. Connection to the spirit tree is a private commune with the Great Mother and you won’t begrudge her that.

This will not erase her pain but it is your hope that it will ease her spirit even for a moment. Kiri shines so brightly with the light of Eywa and she will surely bloom in the majesty of the tulkun. She barely looks up when you enter the marui, ears lifting only slightly to acknowledge you despite the smile you feel overtaking your face. 

“Kiri, come!” When she doesn’t move you guide her to her feet with gentle hands. She returns the soft touch though she is hesitant to heed your urging towards the water. 

“What?” She groans but her attitude does little to deter you. She is still young, still hurting. Her words are only as harsh as whatever she is feeling and you’re eager to soothe her pains. 

“What is it?” Her voice stops short as you finally guide her outside. She squints in the sun and you wonder when she last left home. For a moment your smile falls and you turn to look at her fully, holding her hands in yours as you look her over with the sharp eyes of a tsakarem. She is the same as you last saw her. Still dulled. Her light has dimmed and it aches your heart to see her faith slip. Eywa has not turned her back on Kiri. It’s clear to see in the way the fish seem to gravitate towards her as you lead her into the water. They mingle around her ankles like they’re caught in a whirling tide but she hardly notices as her eyes take in the spectacle playing out over the horizon. Yellow eyes widen in awe as the two of you watch the village become whole once more. Her hand tightens in yours as she looks to you with the first sparks of excitement shining in her eyes. Suddenly she’s pulling you along, eagerly dragging you along with her. 

“Sa’nok!” Tuk shouts gleefully, already bouncing with excitement. She stands behind Kiri on her ilu, hands on her sister’s shoulders as they follow you into the flood of Na’vi and tulkun, tsurak and ilu. The whole of Awa’atlu has poured into the sea and voices rise joyously over the blue waters. It is the blissful sound of the People and tulkun as siblings are reunited after the season apart. 

“There! Do you see her? That is my spirit sister.” Your voice is pitched with excitement as Kiri and Tuk ride beside you. The water is warm as you urge your ilu to dive. She chitters happily, feeling the elation coursing through you through tsaheylu. Veyan hums eagerly when her eyes finally see you riding towards her, dismounting as you swim in close. Her voice is a warm timber that sings through the water as you greet her. 

«Veyan! Oel ngati kameie.» 

«Oel ngati kameie, tsmuke. I am happy to see you.» Her skin feels welcoming beneath your hands as you press your forehead just above her eyes in a gentle embrace. «Who have you brought with you?» She asks when you part. Kiri and Tuk have kept close to you, signing a respectful greeting when Veyan’s eyes land on them. Kiri hugs close to her ilu as Tuk clings to your back, both bashful in the face of your spirit sister. Veyan is a lovely being known for her beautiful voice and playful disposition. She is as curious as they are upon first meeting. 

«This is Kiri and this is Tuk.» You gesture to each of them in turn. Names are harder to convey without a voice and you name each with words that are easily signed. Kiri you call txanatan for how brightly she reflects Eywa’s light, and Tuk is weopxtsyìp; little wave. It is a common name tulkun say before a child is properly introduced. 

«It seems now is a time for children.» Veyan laughs, pointing her snout across the water. Many Na’vi and tulkun dance in the blue waters but you recognize who she has gestured to.

Ronal is a short distance away and just as you always are you’re struck by your sister’s smile. It’s a rare sight to see the stoic tsahìk so open and unburdened as she speaks with her spirit sister. Roa looks radiant as she cradles a calf beneath her fin. A gorgeous son. You taste the sea on your tongue as a smile breaks across your face. After so long Roa has finally had her child. He looks precious swimming next to his mother, curious eyes taking in the world around him. Just as you’re about to suggest the girls introduce themselves to the young calf they sign that they need air, swimming to the surface. 

«They must be a long way from home.» Veyan notes, keen eyes watching their shadows as they float overhead. It is easy to tell their differences. Their eyes, their tails. It’s made clearer as Rotxo finds them, wide limbs clashing with their willowy frames as he gestures for them to follow him. Both you and Veyan surface for a breath as you watch them all swim away. Neteyam is nearby as well, smiling wide as he watches the tulkun breach and twirl, playfully flapping their fins as skimwings fly overhead. 

«Is he one of yours too?» Veyan asks when you name each of them properly. 

«None of them are mine.» Your tone is dejected as you say the words as you sign. Veyan’s orange eyes roll at your denial. 

«I can see it as plainly as the sky, tsmuke. They are your children.» The sound of Roa’s voice raises from beneath you as Ronal and her spirit sister come to join you and yours. 

«Children?» The older tulkun asks curiously. She has known you since you were young, seen you through many seasons of your life. Roa is just as much your sister as she is Ronal’s even if the two of you do not share the bond of tsaheylu. You greet her happily, giving her well wishes on the birth of her son. She thanks you with a happy trill, nudging him forward for a shy greeting.  

«Three of them.» Veyan says happily, fins fluttering in excitement and nearly shaking you back into the water. 

«Four.» Ronal corrects her. «Two sons and two daughters.»

«When did this happen?» Roa asks. You lay back on Veyan’s fin, watching the sky as you try to gather the courage to speak your feelings into the air. You’ve spent months keeping them tucked close to your chest. It is plain to see how deeply you feel for Jake and yet you’ve refused to admit it, like he will disappear if you so much as whisper your affections to anyone. At first it felt wrong to so shamelessly pine for a man that was already spoken for but Eywa has proven you wrong. Now you are unlearning such ideas but it is slow going like pulling the stray threads of a knot. It has taken so much patience and trust in the Great Mother to loosen your grip on the thoughts of desiring a man like Jake being treacherous and wrong. In death, tsaheylu is broken. An ikran may only ride with one hunter in their whole life, but when a spirit sibling is lost another may rise to take their place if a Na’vi so chooses to accept. It is not betrayal, it is balance. As Eywa intends all things to be. 

Yet there is still hesitancy in your words as you tell your sisters about Jake. How he came to Awa’atlu seeking uturu, how you challenged Ronal before the clan to allow him and his family to stay, the way your heart has been so easily taken by the Sullys. 

«She is in love.» Ronal says, sour attitude clear even as her fingers shape the words. «But stubborn like a child.» Her voice is rife with disappointment. Not at your desire, but your unwillingness to act upon it. 

She still taunts you. Making jabs about your empty home knowing that you could so easily join the Sully family if only you let yourself. Ronal may be your elder sister but she is also tsahìk. The will of Eywa is hers to interpret and the Great Mother has made her intentions clear. Yet the longer you go without acknowledging the truth of what you both know the more abrasive she becomes at the mention of it. Now she has grown far past pointed remarks. It has become an argument at even a passing mention. If either tulkun hears the frustration in Ronal’s tone they choose to ignore it. Though even her body has gone tense with dissatisfaction as she floats beside Roa. 

«At last?» Veyan rolls over, clearly elated at the news. It knocks you back into the water with her. You take in the shapes of her tattoos on her belly as she spins. The same ones you’ve traced countless times in the years since you’ve bonded. This is news that she has been waiting for since the two of you passed your rites together. Finally you have found a mate. And yet your heart can’t let it be so simple even when what you want is so close at hand. 

Jake has kept to the fringes of your life since the night on the terraces. He lingers, just out of reach. Whenever you want me, he said. His heart won’t stray from those words, from you. Even as you pass him in the village he doesn’t dare to speak or touch yet his eyes follow you, gaze wistful as he watches in silence. 

«But he is already mated.» You tell them. Ronal narrows her eyes. 

«His mate has returned to Eywa.» She quickly corrects you. 

«Tsmuke, Eywa sends blessings for a reason. The Great Mother would not give you such a gift if you were not meant to accept it. He has chosen you. All you must do now is choose him.» Roa advises. 

«There will be a celebration tonight.» Veyan chimes happily. «You must dress beautifully and go to him. I ask Eywa to bless this union.» Roa seconds her enthusiasm but Ronal keeps any kind words to herself until the two of you have surfaced once more to prepare for the evening. It is nearing eclipse, the sky faded to shades of pink and purple as night closes in. Ronal will have many things to do before the last sparks of sunlight fade from the sky. It is the duty of tsahìk to lead ceremonies and tonight marks one of the clan’s most sacred celebrations. 

“Tsmuke,” Ronal says finally, joining you in your marui. Her tone is strong, sharp as a blade. She’s yet to speak and already you know her words will be unsympathetic. Ronal is past sparing you for the sake of sibling harmony. It’s clear in her green eyes that she feels nothing but irritation with you at this moment. It feels much the same as when you were children being scolded for going against her words despite her being the elder. Now she is tsahìk, the leader of your clan, and you must bow to her council no matter your relation. 

“I have waited many years for you to choose someone. I do not want to hear any more of this stubbornness. It is done. This man has chosen you and you have chosen him. Not with your words, but with your actions. I see how Jakesully looks at you. I see how his children cling to you. It is as if it was your hands that drew out the aysnatanhì. You See so much and yet you are blind to this. He was mated but she is gone. His heart is free to be given to another. His children will need a mother. I will not allow you to keep yourself from happiness.” 

“Syay,” she says pointedly. “It has been decided.” 

And so it has. The dreamwalker that looks like Kiri and the woman that shares Neteyam’s face stare at you when you sleep. And when it isn’t their yellow eyes it is toruk’s voice ringing in your mind. He is lonely, in your dreams. Nearly desperate. The same look that takes over Jake’s eyes whenever you pass him by as if he were a stranger. You’re hurting him, you realize, just as much as you are hurting yourself. And it is a pain that can be easily soothed. Eywa has shown you how to heal if only you’ll listen. As if hearing your thoughts as if they were her own, your sister speaks again. 

“You were tsakarem just as I was and yet you act as if you do not See. I know that you do. There is freedom in life but some things are decided by the Great Mother’s will. This has been one of those things. Eywa has guided you here, tsmuke, do not ignore her.” Her voice carries a tone of finality. It is the truth and you’ve felt the Great Mother’s guidance. It is as strong and unwavering as mighty toruk, as patient and comforting as Jake’s gentle words. He is meant for you just as you’re meant for him. There is a reason you’ve met him now. He had his mate. She was meant for him just as you are but that was then. Her purpose was served and her spirit returned to be with Eywa. The final hesitant piece of your heart wonders if you’ll leave him just as soon. If your purpose beside him is to be completed just as quickly. It hardly matters. Your heart was his from the moment you first saw him. If death waits close around the bend you’ll gladly face it if he remains by your side until Eywa calls your spirit home. 

Ronal seems to soften after she’s said her piece. A heaving breath leaves her as she steadies her anger, expelling the negative energy from her body in a great heaving sigh. After a moment her eyes open and they no longer carry the stinging bite of disappointment. Instead she has softened to a look of quiet anticipation. A small smile sits in the corner of her mouth, barely lifting her cheeks.

“Tonight we celebrate the return of our brothers and sisters. It is a time for happiness. Dress beautifully, wear your adornments. I want to see my sister shine brightly on this sacred night.” It is the same thing you said to her so many years ago on the night that Tonowari chose her. She is relieved, happy. This will be a burden lifted from her shoulders at last. With a resolute nod she leaves you to dress. As a former tsakarem you’re afforded more beautiful garbs than most women of the clan just as Ronal is. Tsahìk is always the most lavishly decorated woman and being your sister’s right hand has provided you with the same dignified attire. The Awa’atlu tradition of training many for the role of tsahìk means that each woman to complete the trials is just as precious to the clan as the chosen tsahìk mated to olo’eyktan. The People often present you with lovely gifts of the most beautiful beads, shimmering shells, and handsomely dyed materials after healing a member of their family or teaching their child to swim. It’s a balanced exchange as you return the favors with carefully made baskets and newly carved knives. 

The most precious of these gifts you’ve kept hidden away to be used only as ceremonial pieces. For births and deaths, and the celebration of completed rites. The return of the tulkun marks such a worthy event. It’s as you’re combing through your basket of woven tops and beaded loincloths that Tsireya joins you, arms overflowing with freshly picked flowers. 

“Ma sa’tsmuke.” She says happily. There’s a bounce in her step as she sits beside you. “Ma sa’nok has asked us to make aysylangtel for tonight’s ceremony.” 

“Did you enjoy your time with your spirit sister?” You ask as the two of you weave together the flower cords. The petals are soft between your fingers as you weave together the stems until you’ve braided a rope as long as your tail. They’re meant to be worn in your hair, along the length of your tswin. 

“Yes,” she laughs bashfully, “I had much to tell her.” She doesn’t say more, cheeks flushed a soft shade of purple as her tail sways happily against the woven floor. She speaks instead of making aysylangtel for Kiri and Tuk after you’ve finished with the ones meant for Ronal and herself as well as yours. When they’re finished she gleefully takes them to the Sullys, leaving you with the brightest of the cords. The flowers bloom in shades of sunlight. Red, orange, and yellow petals tipped in black. It feels like another sign from the Great Mother. These are toruk’s colors. It determines your dress as you set aside any choice that isn’t the color of firelight and when the first drum beats begin to echo over the village you emerge from your home draped in flames. 

The ceremony is beautiful as it always is. Torchlight dances over the calm waters as the village comes alive with the voices of the People. Ronal’s voice rings over the water as she formally welcomes the tulkun home, Tonowari’s booming voice seconding her words. When the time comes and the drums begin to beat anew Ronal nods to you expectantly. You stride forward in time to the music until the ocean rises up to your knees. The sound of your voice peals through the air like the caw of a bird, sharp and melodic as you begin to sing. The first verse of the song is yours alone as you dance through the water, beads and shells of your clothes tinkling with each movement. Euphoria wells inside you, blooming through your chest like a flower as you sing the story of the tulkun. It is nearly as old as the First Songs, passed down from the ancestors and your body moves with each word. Such dances tell a story, signing in a grander, more fluid way than how you speak in daily life. 

Every woman of the village will play a part in this performance and their voices begin to join you. They flow together like the rise and fall of the waves as the song begins in earnest. The history of the tulkun is long and storied. It will take hours before the song is finished. By then the girls will begin to sing, their young voices swelling the music to a close as the tulkun join the chorus. The whole of the celebration moves like the tides as the crowd thins and renews in waves as more people leave and arrive. There is a whole night of celebration ahead and no one will arrive late to enjoy it. The first line of dancers falls away and you with them, returning to find Tuk bouncing excitedly on shore, her eager hopping stirring up soft bursts of sand. 

“Sa’nu! Sa’nu!” Her smile is nearly wide enough to split her cheeks, round eyes wide with wonder as she grabs one of your hands in hers. The shortened aysylangtel you made for her beats against her back as she swings your arm eagerly. 

“You looked so pretty, Sa’nu!” Kiri settles her hands on Tuk’s shoulders to get her to still. 

“You look very lovely, Sa’nok. Your voice is beautiful.” 

“Thank you, ’ite.” You dare to say. For a moment, Kiri startles, her brows rising before her face settles into a shy smile. When her gaze flits up to you through her lashes she looks content. It eases your heart to know your sister’s words have been true. Even as you saw Jakesully’s children grow closer to you like flowers bending towards the sun you hadn’t dared to claim them so forwardly, scared of the rejection. They had a mother. You seeing them, no matter how vaguely it has been, truly solidified them in your mind. No longer were they shapeless threads of words said in passing. For you to so blatantly step into that place could’ve been seen as a thing worth sneering at. But there is no offense on Kiri’s face. 

“Have you seen your father?” It’s your hope that you don’t sound desperately curious asking after Jake’s whereabouts. 

“Last I saw he was with olo’eyktan.” 

“I will look for Tonowari then.” You find the olo’eyktan around a fire smoldering in the sand with a few men around him. Many eyes rise to meet your arrival; green, blue, and a bright shade of yellow. 

“Our lovely tsakarem.” Tonowari greets you. He’s one of the few in the clan to still call you as such. There’s a fondness in his words that hasn’t wavered since the elders first declared you as a potential mate for him, though the affection between the two of you is like that of siblings. Your heart was never moved by Tonowari the same as your sister’s was. Yet the other men collected around the fire seem more enticed. Their eyes are easy to understand. Drunk from fermented juice and hearts light with the spirit of celebration, they’ve become bolder with their admirations. The only one that is unmoved by your arrival is Jake. His face is tight and guarded, eyes flickering with firelight and nothing else as he watches you watch him. It’s a wonder the way he can so completely close himself off, hiding his soul and masking his feelings. The feeling of wanting to unravel him rises again as you hold out your hand for him to take. It is a request, but there will be great pain inside you if he rejects this humble offering of reconciliation. You are at fault for gouging this rift between the two of you and it’s your hope to bridge it tonight. 

For a moment he simply looks at your hand as it sits before him and there’s a cold flash of pain inside you when you realize that you might be too late. He said he would wait. Promised that he would. But perhaps you’ve made him wait for too long. It’s not until his hand joins with yours that your racing mind settles. He looks to where your hand sits in his, thumb tracing over your skin before he meets your gaze once more and it’s like a storm has lifted. The silence between the two of you still speaks so many words as you watch the light of the fire play over his features. Feeling emboldened you pull him away from the men around the fire. 

“You must dance.” Jake is already shaking his head before you’re more than two steps from where he’d been sitting. 

“You must. It is the way!” A new verse has started and the melody has shifted. In the time of the First Songs the tulkun were unruly. Fighting amongst themselves, killing each other. This new rhythm marks the turn in their histories when they began to see that killing only brings about more killing. It is a livelier tune more fit for dancing than what you had first sung when the celebration began. Already couples are forming on the beach, eager to enjoy the night’s festivities. 

“Go,” Tonowari laughs when Jake looks to olo’eyktan for help. “She is one of the best dancers in the clan. You will enjoy yourself.” 

“I’ve never been a very good dancer.” Jake laughs as you drag him into the crowd. 

“Then show me a dance you know.” The dances of the Metkayina are complex. Men and women face each other and move in a winding line that spins and twirls like waves, weaving between each other and switching partners as you go. It will surely be too much for Jake to learn in a night and he seems to ease at the thought of not joining the already dizzying swirl of dancers. The dance he teaches you is comparatively simple yet more intimate. There’s a closeness about it as you press your hands and chests together before stepping away from each other. Eventually Jake doesn’t want to part and his hands twine with yours, lowering them but not letting go. 

“And who taught you this dance Toruk Makto?” The smile on his face slips at your playful words. Sadness flashes in his eyes before it settles into something fond as he releases one of your hands to catch the curve of your cheek in his palm. 

“My muntxate.” As soon as he says it his ears fall in shame. Just for a moment it feels as if he isn’t seeing you even as his bright eyes rest on your face. 

“Come,” you say to break him from his reverie. “I want to show you something.” He lets you lead him to the water’s edge, following behind when you mount your ilu. Jake says nothing as the two of you ride past the edge of the reef into open waters. There still isn’t much danger so close to the village and you only go as far as a smaller island just outside the safety of the seawall. Jake is silent through all of it, allowing you to lead him wherever you please. 

The island’s shores are stony and thick with trees, the world alight with a familiar blue and green glow so far from the light of torches. Jake watches as you dance through the trees, happiness still soaring in your heart despite his soured attitude. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, finally breaking his silence. 

“What is there to be sorry for?” 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he insists, “not to you.”

“Why shouldn’t you? Unless you are running from me now, Jakesully.” 

“Never.” You hear the hesitance in his voice even as he grabs your hand to pull you closer. He looks beautiful in the light of the trees. It’s different from the hues of the village where everything is drawn close to shore over the light of the ocean. Jake looks more at ease here. It is not the forest but it must feel like something close to home for him, or at least that was your hope in bringing him here.

“But it feels wrong. To talk about her. With you.” 

“Jake, you said that I may have you. That you will be mine. I do not want just a part of you.”

“You have me, yawne, I swear. I meant what I said that night. I’m yours.” He suddenly seems frantic. 

“Jake, I am not ignorant. I know that you have lived before we met. You were tawtute, uniltìrantokx, Toruk Makto. You’ve carried many names, led many lives. I was not a part of it until now. Why would I fault you for decisions made before we met?”

“It doesn’t bother you? That I was mated before now?”

“It did. I felt like I was taking something from someone else. But not anymore. We do not have to be mated before Eywa. I know that tsaheylu is sacred. Knowing that I’m yours is enough.” The words pain your heart but it is a sacrifice that you are willing to make to stay by his side. Bonds aren’t made frivolously. To form tsaheylu is to commit your souls to one another for life, and he has already given that part of himself to another. Life has parted them but, to him, it must feel like a wound that will never heal. It would be wrong of you to ask when he has already given you so much. His eyes search yours and you’re grateful that Eywa has not given your gift to everyone. If she had he would see the falsehood in your words. Still he reassures you. 

“I chose you. I want you. All of you.” His hands move from yours, drawing up the length of your arms and the curve of your shoulders until he’s holding your face with the softest touch. 

“You look so beautiful.” He whispers so quietly that you’re not sure you were meant to hear, but the sentiment is shared. He is beautiful. Thick locs, yellow eyes, soft stomach. He leans into your touch when your hands find his face in turn, thumbs brushing over the light of his tanhì and the dark shapes of his pil. So different but so familiar. 

“Come, I have something to show you.” Jake seems to be in lighter spirits, as playful as he’d been on the night the two of you climbed the terraces. His hand tugs at your tail as you lead him further inland, laughing when you swing your hips to smack him with it. It’s a beautiful sound. One that you prefer to the melancholic tone he’d taken earlier. 

“It’s here.” You watch Jake’s face as he ducks into the clearing hidden by low hanging leaves. His head tilts, tail swaying inquisitively behind him. 

“What is it?” 

“I do not know. I found it once when I was young, avoiding my training as a hunter. Ronal and I call it Wayutral.”

“Tree of Songs?” He’s curious now, ears flickering in interest. The tree is small by comparison to the rest rising to the sky around you. It’s rooted in the basin of a tide pool, trunk twisted like a braid, with only its spindly branches dotted with glowing pink flowers reaching above the glowing water. It’s a strange tree but Pandora is full of such curiosities. Gifts from the Great Mother. The bark of the tree is soft and glows a pale purple at the gentlest touch, lighting veins through the tree when you connect your tswin. In an instant you hear voices raise in a joyous song. It is not always the same but they’re always familiar. Sometimes a lullaby from childhood or one of the First Songs. Today the tree sings a tulkun song meant to welcome a new birth, their voicing ringing deep and haunting in your mind. 

“What do you hear?” You ask as Jake ties his tswin to the tree. His brows draw down and his ears tighten against his head. Perhaps it is a sad song the Wayutral has shown him. 

“It’s a tawtute song. Like a Taronway. Marines chant it during training.”

“Marines?” Your Na’vi tongue stumbles over the syllables of the word. Another English word for you to learn. Jake breaks tsaheylu and your heart wilts. This was meant to be a happy exchange and it’s been spoiled by memories of his past. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes away the thought. 

“I’m sorry. Wayutral only sings memories. I didn’t know what it would show you.” You draw your tswin over your shoulder, fingers picking at the bright flowers of your aysylangtel. The bright petals begin to gray under your anxious fingers until Jake collects your hands in his. His eyes linger on the length of the orange flowers, or perhaps he’s staring at your tswin. Either way his eyes draw away slowly, blinking away the distraction as his eyes meet yours. 

“It’s not your fault, sweet girl. I’m not upset, it’s just been so long since I heard anything like that. Brought back memories.” 

“Bad memories?” 

“Some.” His tone is clipped and he looks lost in thought as his five fingers play over yours. He maps the pattern of your skin with his fingertips until you break his trance with a thought you meant to keep tucked inside. 

“I wish I knew.” It’s the truth. There is so much about Jake that you’ve yet to learn but your heart yearns to know every piece of him. But you hadn’t meant to let your longing slip off your tongue. A twinge of shame swims through your chest once more. His life as a tawtute is behind him and yet you want to know what he had been like. So much of his life has happened without you. It’s so uncommon to mate outside of your clan, outside of those that have been beside you since birth. Tonowari grew up beside you and Ronal and yet here is this man that was a stranger some months ago and it’s all you can do to not beg him to sing you the story of his life. You were raised to be in step with Eywa. To listen to her guidance and the spirits of the world around you. A tsahìk does not wait for Eywa’s word, she is always listening. That is what the former tsahìk taught you. Now your ears are eager to listen to every beat of Jake’s spirit. If he were a woven fabric the threads would be many colors, patterns varied as he passed through the different stages of his life. 

“You want to know, yawntutsyìp?” His tone is lightened now, eyes bright with mirth as he teases your curiosity. It makes your ears lower bashfully, eyes falling away from him as heat creeps over your cheeks. Jake is quick to draw your gaze back to him with a hand under your chin. 

“Don’t be shy now, yuey. If you want to know, I can show you. I can show you everything. Let me give you everything.” His lips find yours, closing the space between you. He kisses you like you are the air in his lungs after going without. Deep and desirous as if he’s trying to draw all that you are into himself, trying to taste your soul on his tongue as it grazes yours. It’s enough to make you sigh against his lips and the sound draws a satisfied smile to his lips. Jake doesn’t let you part more than a hair’s breadth from him, thumbs hooked under the curve of your jaw as he nuzzles against your cheeks. 

“I want you with me.” He whispers. “Let me be with you.” A hand leaves your skin, the place he held going cold in an instant, as he draws his tswin over his shoulder. 

“This is what I want.” His voice rings with assuredness. “I want this. I want you. All of you.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation as you lift your flowered braid from your shoulder. Your eyes follow the searching tendrils as they twine together until your vision goes white. 

The feeling is something beyond words. Every piece of your being is lit like a flame, burning and melting as light bursts behind your eyes. It knocks you to your knees as you feel yourself tear and mend all at once, expanding and joining until there is no part of you–body or soul–that doesn’t feel touched by Jake’s presence. His gasping breath becomes your own. Your hearts beat in tandem. Everything that he is becomes a part of you, the roots of your love winding deeper than they had before. Your voice stutters when you finally find the words to speak. 

“I feel you.” They’re hardly words as they fall soft as the wind from your parted lips. Jake laughs and his happiness echoes through tsaheylu. He is content as he basks in your presence. More than just being together under the light of the stars, you’re joined in tirea.

“Ma Jake.” You’re still breathless, still floating on the waves of joy. Every fiber of your being has been tied with his and you can’t tell where you end and he begins as he pulls you into his chest. Gentle hands guide your hazy eyes back to his. 

“My girl,” he says through a kiss. “Oel ngati kameie.” He means it. With everything that he is, he means it. Those words, so simple, so common, draw the last dregs of pain and hesitance from your heart. He is yours. You are his. 

ɴᴀ’ᴠɪ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

Naranawm – Polyphemus, the planet Pandora orbits

Nalutsa – a marine animal similar to an akula

Syuratan – bioluminescence

Tsakarem – tsahìk-in-training

Vitra, Tirea – soul, spirit

Yawne, Yawntutsyìp – beloved, darling

Tawtute, Sawtute – sky person, sky people

Ranteng Utralti – Spirit Tree

Tswin – neural braid

Tanhì – star, bioluminescent freckles

Atokirina’ – woodsprite, seed of the Tree of Souls

Aysnatanhì – constellations

Sa’tsmuke – aunt, mother’s sister (speculative)

Aysylangtel – flower cords, daisy chain (speculative)

‘Ite – daughter

Muntxate – wife, female mate

Uniltìrantokx – dreamwalker, avatar

Pil – facial stripes, skin stripes

Wayutral – Tree of Songs (speculative)

Taronway – hunt songs

[strawhbrrries]

frank castle + finding you pretty shells

Your favorite part of the beach was all the pretty shells there were to find, new ones being washed up with the tide every second. Frank had spent the whole ten hour drive listening to your rambles about how excited you were to collect shells, where you were going to place them in your home, and who you were going to give some to.

The very first thing you wanted to do after dropping everything off at the hotel and getting situated was to go down to the beach, understandably so. You dug through the bag to put on your swimsuit, all while he was laying down on the bed and groaning like an eighty year old man who needed a cane.

“Frankie, c’mon!!” You pulled at his arm, trying to get him to stand up so you could go find the pretty shells. This was your karma for dating an older man.

“Baby I need five minutes, we just drove ten hours.” He grumbled, rubbing his forehead with the hand you weren’t pulling at. “C’mere, lay with me.”

You obliged and laid next him, complaining that all the best shells were being taken already. He listened to your complaints and tried to reason with you, mostly so he could lay in the bed a little longer and not have to deal with gravity on his bones. After much convincing he finally changed into his swim shorts, rubbed some sunscreen into your face, and walked down to the beach with you.

The tide had made shell pockets in the sand, it felt like gravel under your feet and was the perfect spot to search for shells. You set up the chairs and other stuff a bit away from the shell pocket but still close enough for Frank to keep an eye on, he was convinced someone was going to steal your stuff. You were convinced he spent most of the time at the beach glaring at anyone who breathed near your belongings.

“Look what I found baby.” He handed you a pretty swirly shell, fully intact and not home to a hermit crab or a snail. The proud smile displayed on his face made the find all that much better.

“Frankie!!!” You squealed, taking the shell carefully and flashing him a smile. You placed the shell carefully in your mesh shell bag that Frank had previously bought just in case.

The two of you spent the next few hours in the sand, searching for the prettiest shells to wash up. Handing them to each other with proud smiles before placing them in the bag.

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter Thirty-Two

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 4.5k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, graphic depictions of violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

Y/N POV

Grief comes in waves.

At first they are so strong you feel swept away. The tides kicking your feet out from under you and forcing gasps from your throat as the water rushes in. Pulling you under. You grow angry with each failed attempt to stay upright. A scream to the skies every time the waters win.

Grief comes in waves. 

A more gentle splash of water once you’ve regained your footing in the sand. Now you can finally feel the warmth of the sun hit your skin, and be able to view the sunset in its beauty. When the joyful moments hold you close and laughter replays in your ears. The waters will calm. Ripples diminish as the waves turn into gentle rolling waters, keeping your body swaying but still rooted.

The fight in the beginning feels pointless. To try and hold steady as you’re tossed aside. But every time you’ve fallen in, you’ve pulled yourself back up. Your legs strengthen and the large waves don’t feel as cumbersome as they did before. They still hit, forcefully trying to push you off balance. But you’ve learned how to plant your feet, how to push back against them. Letting them merely sway you as each day you take a step forward toward the shore. 

Grief comes in waves.

My head snapped toward the door, startled by the sudden knocking. I sat frozen in place for a moment, fingers gripping the edge of my bed as my eyes stayed focused on the locked handle. 

I had started to find myself constantly sitting in a state of alert. Each sound feeling amplified as if my mind was in permanent sensory overload. 

I just needed the world to be quiet.

“Y/n? Are you in there?” Felix’s voice was soft on the other side of the wood, almost timid as he spoke up. I pulled myself from the sheets, slowly clicking the lock out of place and pulling the door open.

Felix’s head rose. The look of concern quickly faded as his eyes squinted, a gentle grin growing across his face.

“Hi there!” He chirped, a smile stretching further up his cheeks. His hands gripped my puffy jacket close to his chest, fingers tightly securing a hat against it.

“Hello to you too, can I ask why you have my jacket?” Without a word he held it out to me, stifling a smile giggle. 

“Get dressed. Jeongin and I wanna take you out for the night.” 

“Wha-” He shoved the jacket into my hands when I failed to take it from him. “Lix… I need to get down to the gym I was just about to meet up with Chang-”

“No no. We told him we’re stealing you. He can’t have you.” He reached out, grabbing the door handle. “Chop chop! We gotta get going!” He pulled the door shut, before the sounds of his feet running away could be heard. 

I stared down to the jacket in my hands, the faintest smile trying to break through.

Normally, the mystery behind the mischief the two boys were up to would leave me unsettled, nervous, and concerned. Yet in this moment it manifested in something akin to excitement. A twinge of hope in my chest that today might be an easier one.

Stepping foot outside the house might do me good, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Positive. 

Just stay positive. 

I repeated the mantra in my head as I stepped down the stairs, jacket in hand as I poked my head into the living room.

Felix and Jeongin bounced up from their spots lounging on the couch, both crossing over to me and Felix excitedly shook me by my arms. 

“Where are you all heading off to?” My eyes fell on Hyunjin on the couch, sitting beside Jisung who had his leg propped up on the coffee table. 

But the other body beside Jisung didn't look my way, the same coldness radiating off of him as the first time we met. Minho's arms were crossed, eyes fakely focusing on the television instead of us.

“Yeah, where exactly are we going?”

“It's a secret!” Felix practically skipped down the hall towards the front door, giddy with every step.

Jeongin reached out, arm stretching across my shoulders as he held me close and looked to the others with a proud smirk.

“We're taking her out on a date!” 

Hyunjin and Jisung let out soft chuckles at the two's excitement. Minho on the other hand was finally looking in my direction, not a single readable expression on his face as we held eye contact. His gaze turned back to the television, completely unphased. 

Jisung leaned towards Minho, whispering something to him before his sentence was quickly cut off by a punch to the arm.

“Ya! No punching the injured one!” He sunk into himself, his hand nursing the spot on his arm where Minho had made contact.

“Have fun you guys! Behave!” Hyunjin waved us off with a smile as Jeongin turned me down the hall, hands on my back as he pushed me towards the door.

“Where are you guys taking me!?” 

“Shh. We said it's a secret, now go get in the car.” Jeongin grabbed a set of keys from the hooks, leading the two of us outside to see Felix eagerly waiting by the locked car. 

My eyes scanned the snow littered landscape as we drove closer to the city. Night had already started to envelope the streets, the occasional street light flashing above head. Jeongin pulled the car alongside the curb, placing it into park as he clapped his hands together with a smile as he shut off the ignition. 

“Alright! Let's go!”

“I still don't get any hints?” 

“Not at all.” Felix grabbed my hand, pulling me alongside him as I tried to hold my jacket tightly closed in front of me in an attempt to maintain any body heat in the chilly air,

We meandered down multiple alleys, our destination starting to feel like it didn't actually exist as we continued on. Jeongin must have purposely parked far away, trying to keep their surprise for as long as possible.

Jeongin took a sharp left as we exited the last alley, Felix still tightly secured to my side as I looked forward to what was ahead of us.

Twinkling lights were strung across the trees, creating a ceiling of light against the night sky. Multiple vendors lined the walkways and pedestrians for as far as the eye could see. A soft melody played from hidden speakers, welcoming us in.

A winter night market.

Felix giggled as he looked at me, taking in the scenery as a smile slowly tried to stretch across my cheeks. It was a magical sight to observe, everyone cheery and laughing together as their fingers grasped their cups of hot chocolate or their sugary confections. 

Jeongin stopped a few strides ahead of us, turning around to my frozen state as his eyes vanished behind his smile, arms opening wide. 

“Surprise!” 

Felix's hands found their place on my arms, rubbing them as if he was trying to transfer heat to me through the layers of my jacket.

“We need to get some cocoa!” He chirped, arms wrapping around me and giving a tight squeeze from behind. 

Jeongin stepped forward in agreement, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him, Felix following close behind.

As we stood in line at a kiosk, I turned around to take in more of our surroundings. Only now do I notice the large skating rink at the far end, full of groups skating side by side and the occasional fall. 

It had been years since I found myself at the holiday market, working nights definitely consuming my time and preventing me from attending. It must have been my childhood that I was last able to take in the joy that they held. 

Jeongin turned around, handing me a cup topped with whipped cream and marshmallows, a candy cane sticking out from the top of the sugary white mountain. 

I smiled with a thank you as I let my fingers wrap around the warm cup, bringing it to my lips and letting the flavors of chocolate and peppermint drench my taste buds. 

Felix giggled as I pulled the cup away, motioning with his finger to my lip before I licked away the remnants of the whip cream. 

“It's delicious, I don't even know the last time I had a quality cup of hot cocoa.” I turned to Jeongin with a grin “and the peppermint was a good choice, thank you” 

“We gotta keep you sweet somehow.” Jeongin reached an arm across my shoulders, pulling me close to him in a side hug. 

“I'm perfectly sweet as I am, thank you very much.” I let out a humored scoff, feigning offense. 

“Whatever you say, darling.” With a chuckle, Jeongin tapped the tip of my nose, before leading us down the walkway side by side. 

Booths lined the pathway as we continued on, an array stretching from street foods to hand crafted goods. Children hollered in front of the game booths, placing metaphorical bets against their siblings in lighthearted rivalry.

“Oh my god.” Felix abruptly stopped in his tracks, eyeing the hanging array of prizes above a particular booth. “I need it.”

My eyes followed his line of sight up to a long bodied pink animal pillow, before he ran up to the booth and wasted not a single moment before handing his money over to the teller to begin his game.

My head craned to the side as I tried to study the figure, eyes squinting in confusion.

“What even is that thing?” Jeongin slightly spoke down to me, also focused on the long pillow.

“I thought it was a bunny… But it’s got a pig nose… I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I but I need it!” Felix pointed back to us, eyes wide in determination. “He’s coming home with me!”

He juggled the ball in his one hand, focus pinned on the tower of bottles as he readied his aim. He grumbled in frustration as only the top few bottles fell with his throw, quickly digging into his pocket and handing over another dollar before attempting again. I watched as he tried time and time again, each throw leaving him short of leaving with his soon-to-be prized possession. 

“Com’on Felix, you know these are all rigged anyways.”

“Excuse me,” My eyes snap to a woman stepping up to us with a friendly smile, pointing down to the hot chocolate in my hand. “I’m so sorry to ask, but where did you get those?” 

“Oh!” I turned around in the direction we came, pointing back to the booth. “Right back there! I highly suggest you try it with the peppermint! It’s so good.”  

She grinned as I turned back to her, a soft thank you as she passed by us and down toward her own sweet treat.

Felix let out another long groan with the crashing of bottles. Jeongin stepped up behind him, trying to usher him away from the booth.

“Let’s go skate or something before you waste your entire wallet on this game.”

Jeongin outstretched his hand, his other firmly grasping the half wall, as he guided me over the threshold and onto the ice once we had finally donned our skates. My feet slipped beneath me as I tried to gain my footing, my hands tightly gripping into Jeongin’s arm as I steadied myself. 

As the uncontrollable sliding became manageable, I let my tight hold release as I tried to pull myself to the wall. Jeongin chuckled at my newborn deer-like state before Felix’s yelp caught our attention as he unsuccessfully made his way onto the ice, and not a moment later partially falling into the splits as he clamored.

I pushed myself from the wall, slowly gliding across the ice in his direction as I struggled not to keel over laughing. After hauling Felix back into a standing position, Jeongin slid up beside the two of us, holding his stomach laughing.

“At least she can help me while laughing instead of just watching me suffer.” Felix grumbled.

“Listen, I just wasn’t expecting you to come out here immediately flailing your arms like a baby chick.” 

Felix quickly proved to be no better once we began to make our way around the rink. Jeongin on the other hand was surprisingly stable as we progressed. In no way would you put him up for competition, but I would not have expected him to have been experienced on the ice to the point of looking comfortable.

My fingers slowly untied the laces secured around my ankles, leaning back on my hands as I kicked the skates off. Jeongin’s cackling beside me brought my eyes up, just in time to witness Felix clumsily sliding to the edge of the rink and falling forward once his skates hit the edge. 

“And he sticks the landing!” Jeongin cheered, doubling over in pain from his laughter. I shoved his arm lightly before pulling myself from the bench, trying to haul Felix’s body up out of the snow as he let out a dramatic holler. 

I bit my lip in an attempt to suppress my own laughter, settling Felix onto the bench beside Jeongin. Retrieving his lost beanie to his lap as he flipped his disheveled hair from his face.

“You realize you're supposed to stop before the curb, right?” A snicker finally escaped my lips, watching as he tried to settle his snow covered beanie back onto his head.

“They need to make it more visible. That was not my fault.”

“There's a reason he's usually not directly in battle, he's not the most graceful of the members.”

“Ya!” Felix hollered as his arms crossed his chest. “I wanna see any of you do what I do, especially when all of you break out in nervous hives at just the thought of scanning through my codes.” 

“That aside, give me my shoes. My socks are drenched and yes, I will be bitching about it for the rest of the night.” I struggled as I attempted to replace my boots back onto my feet over my wet socks. The quick thinking as I flung forward to assist Felix, created a momentary lapse in judgment that I was without shoes and about to trudge across the cold snow.

We continued on from our icy activities, on our journey back to the car as we wrapped up our night before Felix's eyes glistened at the sight of an elaborately lit up sign before us.

He stopped in his tracks, halting me next to him as his grip on my arm tightened. I followed his gaze to a tent beside us, a large sign reading FORTUNE TELLER posted above the entrance.

“We've got to go in.” He mumbled, eyes not straying from the tent.

“Seriously? It's all just a scam as they tell you the same mumbo jumbo that they repeat to everyone all night. Great riches are coming your way, your romantic life will flourish, danger is coming for you.” My fingers wiggled in the air, swirling the artificial magic around me. 

“Oh come on! It’s still fun to hear. And you never know, maybe they’re the real deal?”

I rolled my eyes as he tugged me forward, pulling the door flap to the side and dragging us into the dimly lit tent.

The psychic sat on the floor behind a small table in the middle, eyes closed with her palms resting on the surface. The candles in front of her barely illuminating her face from below as the rest of the tent sat in shrouded darkness.

Felix eagerly sat on the cushion in front of her, crossing his legs beneath him and leaning in. 

Her eyes slowly opened and met Felix's, a gentle smile growing before looking up to me still standing. Without a word she gestured to the cushion beside Felix, summoning me to begrudgingly sit down. 

I nervously settled into the seat, not quite sure why the atmosphere of the small tent left a knot deeply rooted in my stomach.

Her hand slowly reached forward, trying to take mine in hold, before I tried to dismiss her as gently as possible.

“Oh no, he's the one who wanted to visit you, thank you though.” I turned to Felix, who was motioning to her hand with his head, his eyes darting between mine and her palm. 

With a sigh I reached out, putting my hand in hers as she closed her eyes once more, taking a deep breath.

Still without a single word uttered, she released me, taking out a stack of cards and handing them to me.

“Shuffle.” 

At this point I figured it might just be easier to play along, being so quickly targeted not being in my original plan when stepping in. 

Felix's hands settled in his lap, intensely watching the cards as they transferred between my hands, before I handed them back to the woman. 

“Your energy was strong the moment you stepped in. You carry a powerful aura with you.”

I hummed in response, forcing a smile as I nodded along with her. The same line coming from her that she probably utters a millions times in one night.

“By the act of shuffling you've put your energy into the cards, and they're eager to give you the answers you seek.” She held the deck between her hands. “What would you like to ask the cards tonight, my dear?”

I stuttered as I tried to come up with a response, trying to look to Felix for any sort of guidance. 

“I'm sorry…” I look back at her hesitantly, “I've never done this before.” 

“No worries my dear.” She laid the cards out in a spread in front of us, slowly flipping over cards one by one. “We’ll just see what the cards would like to tell you then.”

Each flip of a card caused her to give soft hmm’s and ha's as she studied them, and I tried to press my lips together in an attempt to stifle a giggle.

"I see you've experienced great loss, a burden that you carry on your shoulders even now. You need to forgive yourself and those around you who are trying to share the load. It's the only way you will be able to conquer the shadows I see in your future. What's happened in your past will find its way back to you, and it will not be a pleasant reunion. It will take all your courage to confront it. And having those who love you near will make the process smoother.”

"Wow...um wow okay...aren't you supposed to just tell me to sell me some bs about loving myself or some tall dark handsome stranger is waiting for me just around the corner”

She gave a soft chuckle, pulling another card and flipping it face up.

“Hmm, handsome, yes. But not very tall.” She looked up to me with a sly grin, “Seems like he may be closer than you think though.”

“Ah yeah, okay there it is.” I patted my legs before rising, trying to make my exit before Felix reached up, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. I stared down at him, “What? Like I said, it’s all just the same mumbo jumbo she tells everyone. You stay and get your fortune read, but I’m gonna go wait outside with Jeongin.”

Felix's quick shuffling to stand was clear as I pulled the tent flap to the side, giving thanks to the psychic and following me out.

Jeongin stood as he noticed us nearing again, head slightly tilting in confusion.

“You guys weren't in there very long?” 

“Nah, no need.” I crossed my arms across my chest, stopping just before the bench and turning to see Felix catching up to us.

“You're gonna brush that off? She just told you so much!” 

A scoff blended into a chuckle as I looked around the crowded plaza, a humored smile growing on my lips.

“I told you, she says the same thing to everyone. None of that was specific for me.”

“Oh com'on! Great loss? Your past will find its way back to you!?” Felix reached out, taking both my arms in his hands as he gently shook me. “HANDSOME MAN IS CLOSER THAN YOU THINK!?” 

“Lix, buddy. Don't look too far into this.” 

He pushed air through his teeth, the softest eish coming from him as he accepted defeat and crossed his arms. I playfully rolled my eyes, nudging my arm into his side and forcing it to wrap around his and pull him close. 

“Com'on, let's head home. It's getting late. We don't want Chan sitting in a chair in the dark corner waiting for us to walk in the door.” 

Felix laughed softly, nodding in agreement. I turned back with my other arm, linking it with Jeongin's and pulling him alongside me as we strolled back to the car. 

Shrugging my jacket from my shoulders, I placed it on its hanger and quickly started to rid myself of my boots. The uncomfortable wet feeling that grew between my toes being far too much to bare from my soaked socks. 

“I’ll be right there! I just need to get changed!” I called out to Felix and Jeongin as they made their way into the lit living room, Felix barely waving in response behind him.

“You guys went ice skating without me!?” Jisung’s voice rang out as I later entered the living room, freshly changed with new socks, his eyes big to accompany the dramatic pout on his lips.

“You can’t even skate right now! You’re still on crutches!” Hyunjin heckled as he settled a pillow into his lap, head falling back into the couch cushions.

“And yet I could still skate circles around you.”

“Oh please! It’s been years.” Hyunjin shot up, sending a glare in Jisung’s direction. “Do you really think I haven’t gotten better since then!?” 

“All I’m saying is maybe you should skate better.”

“Maybe you should shoot better!” Hyunjin chucked the pillow, hitting Jisung in the face and sending him falling backwards into Minho dramatically. 

“I doubt Seungmin even clears you before the end of the season for something like that.” Minho lifted the pillow from Jisung’s face, tossing it onto the couch beside him. 

“You’ll see! I’ll heal in no time and after that you’re on Hwang!” 

“So you guys just impulsively decided to go to the night market?” Minho settled himself into the couch, Jisung tucked snuggly beside him with a pout.

As I crossed to the couch, Jeongin pulled me down into the seat between him and Felix, pulling my back flush against his chest in a tight back hug.

“I told you, we had to take her on a date!”

Minho scoffed, picking up the remote and turning his focus to the television as he avoided eye contact with the three of us.

“What? You mad that they took her on a date before you?” Jisung squealed the moment the words left his mouth, quickly turning into a ball as Minho picked the pillow back up, attempting to nonchalantly smother it into Jisung’s face without pulling his attention from the screen. 

“Ohhh from that reaction I think we know the answerrrr.” Felix chimed, giggling as I struggled from Jeongin’s grip.

“Um, hi! Hello! You do remember I’m right here, right?” 

“You guys took her on a date and didn’t even get her flowers?” Hyunjin scoffed, crossing one leg over the other and arms across his chest. “Rookie move.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t you get her flowers!?” Felix’s head shot towards Jeongin, nudging his arm.

“ME!? The whole thing was your idea. Why is it my job to get the flowers?” 

“Just know that if I took you on a date you’d be greeted with flowers and chocolates.” Hyunjin scoffed in disapproval as he directed his attention away from us and back to the screen.

“Yeah and if I took you on a date it would have been a nice little picnic by the Han River! The Han Jisung at the Han River! You can’t beat it!”

“You guys act like I’m about to go on dates with everyone in the house, chill out.”

“You never know! Your secret lover is closer than you think” Felix nudged into my side, “So it very well could be one of us in the house!” 

“Secret lover?” Hyunjin’s brow arched, interest piqued.

“Yeah! Tell them all about your fortune!” Felix grew giddy at the resurfacing of the topic, still deeply rooted on the final statement of my reading.

Minho crossed his arms across his chest, poorly trying to act uninterested, and keeping his head facing the TV but the smallest of side eye in our direction as he tried to listen in.

“Oh please, I’m not going to repeat all of that nonsense.”

“Fine! I will!” Felix turned to Hyunjin, leaning in close. “We went to a fortune teller! And she said that y/n has a very handsome lover who might be closer than she thinks.” He decorated his last words with air quotes as he giggled gleefully.

“Huh, never took you for the fortune teller type.” Jisung chuckled.

“I’m not! He dragged me in there against my own free will!” The boys stared at me with doubtful glances, each looking as though they were attempting to suppress their giggles. “Okay, whatever. You all can keep debating the hypotheticals of me going on dates with each of you for whatever reason. I'm gonna go get ready for bed, I bid you goodnight!” 

I quickly hopped up from my seat, trying to quickly divert my way upstairs and away from whatever that conversation would be morphing into. 

I set my phone on the counter beside the sink, finding myself with a small smile as I settled in front of the mirror. 

Pulling my hair back from my face, I let the faucet run. Patiently waiting for the cold water to gain its heat as I washed my face. The unexpected venture away from the home had done more good than I expected, the exact push I had needed to put pain temporarily in the rearview and let a different emotion finally take the wheel.

As I leaned forward, dipping my hands into the water, my phone screen lit up. A text message scarcely legible. I rinsed away the last of the soapy residue and shut off the water, dabbing the towel across my face before finally picking up my phone and unlocking the screen.

Unknown: Little birds shouldn’t stray far from the nest.

My brows furrowed as I stared at the screen, trying to decipher who it may be who had sent the cryptic message, as I watched the tiny bubbles reappear at the bottom of the screen before another message came through, causing my stomach to drop.

Unknown: The peppermint was a good choice though.

Next Chapter

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