#lo and behold the water was cold

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

mental health check. i checked. its still FUCKING THERE-

[wabblebees]

the universe is mean as hell but at least its fucking funny

(cw for christian end-times conversion bullshit under the readmore)

[yellobb]

Me last night: oh yeah, I can have one fun little mixed drink while I cook! So long as it’s small, I should be fine :)

The drink in question apparently:

[emphistic]

Obsessed with your work frfr. Can I get a fic or anything you're comfortable with sukuna's friends coming over to his place and the reader sleeping in his bed or smth and him getting all protective and his friends teasing him. Thanks!

"You two are so annoying," Sukuna muttered into his mic, looking back at your calmly sleeping figure on his bed.

"Don't be such a party pooper, 'Kuna!" Gojo's laughter sounded through the pink-haired man's headset.

"I told you already, don't call me that."

"Aww, so your girlfriend can call you pet names but little ol' me can't? You're really showing your true colors here, man," Gojo feigned to cry.

"Could not care less," Sukuna rolled his eyes, his fingers swiftly clicking on the keyboard as he continued his game.

"I am to going to come over there and fuck you up."

"Satoru—" Geto tried to stop his white-haired friend.

"Try me. I'll kick your ass." Sukuna quickly retorted.

"Nah, I'd win."

A pinging sound was emitted through the Discord call as Gojo disconnected. Geto sighed, "Let's hope he's not actually going."

"Knowing him he's probably just going to rejoin the call. Give it a few minutes."

The few minutes were given and Gojo did not rejoin the call or the game lobby.

Sukuna drummed his fingers on his desk, clearly bored. "Damn, that idiot is really out of it today, huh. Died three games in a row to a bunch of newbies, and now thinks he can beat me in fight."

"I'll see if I can catch him midway, and drag him back," Geto suggested.

"Good luck with that," Sukuna chuckled.

Another ping sounded through Sukuna's headset as Geto left the call. The pink-haired man disconnected from the call as well, and sat up from his chair, slowly walking over towards you.

He admired your sleeping face, the fall and rise of your chest slightly hidden beneath your (his) sweater, the drool dribbling down your chin onto his pillow — which he didn't mind.

He gingerly brushed aside a strand of your hair so he could get an even better look at your face. Despite having been together for more than two years now, Sukuna still blushed at the thought and sight of you. Could you blame him though?

Sukuna slightly jumped at the sound of his doorbell ringing. He looked down at you to see if you had woken up from that but you only shifted a bit, unconsciously nuzzling your face into his palm, seeking his warmth.

What the hell? Was that dumbass actually being for real? Sukuna thought, as he reluctantly pulled away from you and walked out his room to go open the door.

This time, instead of the doorbell ringing, there was a pounding on the door.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" Sukuna quickly unlocked the door and, lo and behold, standing outside was a scene he was not expecting to see, like, ever.

Gojo, bent down with his hands on his knees, dripping sweat and huffing and puffing. Tufts of his white hair were everywhere, even more messed up than usual. Geto, who was leaning on the wall for support, was not looking much better than his friend.

"I'm sorry," Geto said, his chest heaving, "I tried to stop him, I swear."

Sukuna scrunched up his face, "You ran . . . all the way over here? From your building?"

"Uh huh, that's right," Gojo held out a thumbs up, still heavily panting. "Let me in, I'm going to beat your ass up now."

"No way in Hell, Satoru. And even if I did, you are in no condition to go toe to toe with me," Sukuna pointed to himself with his thumb at the word 'me'.

"C'mon, dude. I need a water, my throat is as dry as your game," Gojo continued to pursue.

"Yeah, my game is just sooo dry, huh? I'm literally the only one here with a girl on my arm."

"Bro, just let me in," Gojo pushed Sukuna aside, and stumbled into his apartment. Geto glanced at Sukuna with an apologetic look on his face, "My bad."

Sukuna sighed, mouthing, "Don't worry about it."

The three men settled in the kitchen. Gojo stuck his head in Sukuna's fridge and searched for a cold drink. Having finally fished one out, he stood back upright, leaning on the counter and drinking.

"So," the white-haired male said, between gulps, "where's the girl?"

"The girl?"

Gojo nodded, still drinking. "Uh huh. Where she at?"

"Sleeping." Sukuna gestured to the closed door at the other end of the apartment.

"How rude of her, the most amazing, handsomest man is in her home and she is sleeping?" Gojo placed his water bottle on the counter, and put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

"’Don't blame her. I would do the same," Geto joked, Sukuna let out a reverberating laugh.

Gojo rolled his eyes, before storming over to your room. Sukuna quickly moved to standing in front of the door, blocking Gojo from entering.

"Hmm, what's this? You have something to hide, Sukuna? Perhaps . . . drugs? Substances? Or maybe, another girl in your bed?" Gojo rubbed his chin with both his index and thumb simultaneously.

Sukuna scowled at Gojo, "You don't know shit. I do not have another girl in there."

Gojo raised a brow, "Then why would you not want me entering?"

"Because you would wake the girl up, obviously," Geto added, coming to Sukuna's defense.

Sukuna sighed, "Fine, you wanna see so bad? Be my guest." Sukuna turned around and twisted the knob, pushing the door open. He was the first to step in.

Gojo snickered, his eyes landing on your form, "Guess you don't have another girl in here."

"Will you quiet down? You're going to wake her up and she's going to kick you two out. You know she gets more cranky than anyone else," Sukuna whisper-shouted, not helping his cause.

"Tch, she would never kick me out. I'm a literal blessing to be near," everyone rolled their eyes at Gojo's remark.

At this, you rolled over in bed, opening your eyes to glare at the three men in your bedroom.

"I've been awake for the last two hours, you assholes. You guys are so loud that even when Sukuna is wearing headphones I can still hear Gojo screaming his head off. I mean, seriously, do you guys ever close your mouths? For, like, even a second."

The three men all switched their gazes between you, and each other. Geto was the only one sensible enough to apologize to you, before stepping out of the room and leaving you to continue glaring at Sukuna and Gojo, who were now both sweating buckets.

"Baby, I swear, I tried to stop them—"

"Don't 'baby' me," you glowered at your lover.

"Oooh, someone's in trouble," Gojo didn't even attempt to muffle his laughter.

"You: Gojo, get out. Sukuna, you can make your own dinner."

"Wha– babe, please, you're cooking is way—"

"Don't make me say it again."

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack' Part V - The Fault Is Ours

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you... Word count: 13.7k

Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play

Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE

Author's Note: My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!

***~~~***

 “I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”

Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.

It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.

You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.

With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.

Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.

Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…

Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.

Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.

Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”

“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”

Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”

The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.

Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.

“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.

He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.

Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“For upsetting you both.”

“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”

You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…

You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”

Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”

You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”

“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”

You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”

Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”

“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”

An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”

You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”

“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”

Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”

Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”

You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”

Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”

“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”

With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”

It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.

“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.

Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”

Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.

You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”

Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.

“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”

***~~~***

You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.

It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.

You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.

You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.

What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.

Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.

“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.

The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.

“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.

“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.

“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.

Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”

Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”

The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…

Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.

A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.

“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.

Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”

Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.

Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.

Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”

A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.

“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”

“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”

Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”

Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.

They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?

You knew your answer: Absolutely.

The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.

“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.

“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”

You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…

“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.

“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”

The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.

“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”

“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”

The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…

Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”

“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”

“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”

“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”

Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.

Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.

Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”

Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”

You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”

“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”

Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.

“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”

Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.

“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.

With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.

Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.

Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.

You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”

Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.

“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.

His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”

“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.

This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.

Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”

“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.

You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.

Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.

The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.

You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…

Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.

You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…

Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.

A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”

Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.

Wrong brother. Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”

Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”

“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.

A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”

***~~~***

A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.

Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.

Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.

The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.

Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.

“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.

Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.

Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.

Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.

“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”

Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…

“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.

“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”

“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”

“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.

“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.

“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”

Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.

When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”

An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he’d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.

“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.

“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”

Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.

“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”

With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”

***~~~***

You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.

You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.

Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.

You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.

Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.

As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.

The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.

You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.

“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.

Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...

Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.

Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.

Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!

“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”

“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.

You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”

“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”

The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.

Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…

Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”

He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.

Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.

“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”

Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”

Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”

The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.

“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”

His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.

“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”

You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.

“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”

“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”

“Me too!”

Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.

Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”

“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.

Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”

Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.

“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”

“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”

Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.

“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”

Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.

Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”

Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”

With a giggle, you agreed.

Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.

Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.

Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”

You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”

You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.

Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.

Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.

You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.

One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”

Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”

“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.

You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”

A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”

You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.

Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.

You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.

Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…

You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.

“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.

His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.

Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.

Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.

Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.

His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.

The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.

Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.

You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”

A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”

Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”

His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.

Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.

You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.

“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.

You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”

Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.

Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.

You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.

“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.

Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.

He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?”

“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”

You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…

When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”

You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”

His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.

“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”

Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”

You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”

Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”

Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”

Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.

“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.

You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.

“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.

Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.

Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.

Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…

The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.

It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.

The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.

Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.

“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”

Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”

“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”

You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.

“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.

You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”

He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”

Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”

His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”

There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.

A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.

You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.

Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”

***~~~***

You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.

Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.

More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.

The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”

Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…

Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!

Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”

Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”

A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.

Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”

Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.

Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”

Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”

“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.

Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”

You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”

Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”

Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.

All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.

Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”

You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.

Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”

And all was right with the world indeed…

Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘

Tag list: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair  @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt

[biblomaniac]

Warm.

Lena felt almost uncomfortably warm, body nearly sticking to the cotton sheets she was in. The position she found herself in was familiar, Kara wrapped comfortably around her back, arm thrown carelessly over her waist.

However, despite waking up in a familiar bed, in a familiar position, something was drastically different. She was naked. Naked. With Karas arm across her waist and hand spread protectively over her stomach. What. The. Fuck.

She lifted the duvet carefully, trying to assure herself this could absolutely not be happening. Yet, lo and behold, she was indeed without clothes, and so it seemed was Kara.

Panic consumed Lena’s groggy mind. Her body tensed, all thoughts of warmth and comfort replaced by fear. She prepared to leave, deciding it would be best to get up quickly, but that plan failed almost instantly.

It seemed that even in sleep, the blonde was very aware of her surroundings. She was intent on keeping Lena in the bed with her. The hand on her stomach pulled her body back into the hard plane of Kara’s midsection.

Dear God. This is not going well.

Lena doesn’t move, staying stock still as she waits for Kara’s breathing to settle back into a gentle rhythm before trying to escape again. This time, she scoots slowly out of the bed, replacing herself with the pillow she laid on last night.

This time, she’s successful, managing to tiptoe away from the bed, watching as Kara frowns into the pillow she now clutches. A moment goes by, Lena watching in anticipation as Kara relaxes back into the bed, inhaling the scent of the pillow.

Whew. Close one.

Making her way past the curtain that divides Kara’s bedroom and living room, Lena manages to locate most of her clothes from the night before, sans her underwear. The panicked brunette pulls what she can find on quickly, grabbing her dead phone and heels left sitting haphazardly by the door before exiting the apartment. Once in the elevator, Lena rubs at her throbbing forehead, eyes pressed tightly together with only one thought coursing through her mind,

What have I done?

__________________________

Cold.

There was a calming warmth next to her body last night that is absent when she awakes. Kara reaches her hand out, feeling the cool sheets on the empty side of the bed instead of a snuggly Lena.

She frowns, opening her eyes and searching for her companion. She scans the bedroom, empty; turns on her x-ray vision to see into the kitchen, empty; and spreads her hearing to the bathroom, empty.

Kara throws off the sheets, emerging from her room to look in the living room, seeing every trace of Lena missing. Her heart aches, thinking that Lena would leave so soon after what they’d done last night. Her thoughts spiral, quickly becoming negative. She tries to think logically, reasoning what she knows about her paramour with her actions last night and this morning.

Maybe last night wasn’t good for her.

But Lena would’ve said something in the moment, right?

I guess I’m not what she wants.

But Lena wouldn’t have kissed her, had sex with her, fallen asleep with her after if she didn’t feel something in return.

No. Lena’s always busy. Maybe she just had an emergency at L-Corp.

A plausible excuse indeed, yet it saddens Kara to think that last night didn’t mean enough to Lena for her to stay, or at least wake Kara up to say goodbye.

The hero decides that she has to see Lena today, to clarify what last night meant for them. The first order of business is to shower. Kara spends extra time under the water thinking about what to say and do around Lena when she’s sees her. She doesn’t want to come off too strong, or emotional, or too clingy.

Leaving the bathroom, Kara quickly dresses in an olive Henley, black slacks and brown loafers. She searches through her jewelry box for the Figaro link chain Lena bought her for her last birthday. Once the treasured piece is found, Kara exits her apartment, closing the door behind her and setting off to Noonans to grab a late breakfast before searching for Lena.

____________________________

Once at home, the brunette immediately goes to the bathroom, intent on washing the shame of her mistakes away. She sheds her clothes quickly, dropping them into the hamper before turning the water on in the shower. Turning around to grab a rag, Lena catches a glance of her body in the mirror.

Jesus.

Lena’s body was covered in love bites, some red, others purple, and a few already turning green with healing. If Lena hadn’t woken up where she did, she would be concerned about the logistics of how she got all these bruises. Her fair skin has always been prone to bruising, leaving her with one bruise or another at any given time.

The scientist pokes and prods at a few, relieved that they don’t seem to hurt. Honestly, she can’t believe Kara did this. The mild-mannered reporter may be made of steel, but she’s still the sweet, goofy, woman she met years ago in her office.

Lena stares at her reflection until the mirror is too foggy to look in. She gets into the shower, careful of the hot water.

I’m bruised enough as it is. I don’t need to add any burns to the mix.

Overall, her shower is quick, washing her body and hair thoroughly before stumbling through the doorway into her bedroom. Ruffling through the drawers, Lena pulls out a pair of panties and a shirt Kara left behind ages ago but Lena has failed to return. The oversized shirt is comfortable and still vaguely smells of Kara. Once dressed, Lena drops heavily into her bed, shuffling under the covers.

Her eyes water, and she finally gives into the urge to cry.

***********************************************

After buying a few too many pastries, Kara listens for Lena’s heart, finding it in the CEOs own apartment, but beating just a tad too fast. Kara zones in, making sure that Lena is okay. The lub-dub of the brunettes heart is quick, not in fear or distress, but in anxiety.

Kara forgoes the walk across town she planned to take, choosing to find an alley to fly off from instead. As her updated Super-suit materializes from her glasses, Kara wraps her breakfast in her cape, wanting to keep it warm and safe from the wind. It only takes Kara half a minute to reach Lena’s balcony across town. She touches down gently, deactivating her Super-suit while using her handprint to unlock the balcony door.

“Lena?” Kara calls, wanting to announce her presence.

There is no response.

Moving into the spacious living space, Kara sets the pastries on a tray in the oven to keep warm, more than familiar with the layout of Lena’s home after years of friendship.

She makes her way into her best friend’s bedroom, wanting to talk to Lena about their night together. When she knocks on the door, she receives no response.

“Lena? It’s me, Kara. Your, your best friend. Can I come in?” She receives no response.

“Lena? I know you’re in there. If you don’t say no, I’m going to come in.”

Kara waits for a no, but when she hears nothing through the door but sniffles, she enters the room. She immediately spies Lena under the covers, trembling softly. The blonde sits on the bed, pulling the covers back slowly, only for Lena to hide her face in her arms.

“Lee, what’s wrong?” she questions.

Lena only cries harder, soft sniffles devolving into full blown sobbing.

“Oh, Lee. C’mere,” Kara lifts Lena’s body to lay in her lap, cradling her close. One hands rubs Lena’s spine, noting the shirt she’s been missing for months, while the other cards through inky black hair.

Lena presses her face into a toned stomach, hiding her obvious tears from Kara.

“Why are you here?” she cries. Lena was convinced their relationship would be ruined. It makes no sense that Kara would be here, consoling her so sweetly after last night.

“What do you mean? I came to talk. I woke up and you were already gone,” Kara says. She’s embarrassed to have to explain further, but Lena’s reaction is confounding.

“I’m sorry, Lena. If it wasn’t good, or I did something you didn’t like, you can tell me. I would never want to ruin our friendship over something as trivial as—as sex.” she stutters.

The brunette releases a strangled sound, moving away from Kara’s lap. She sits among the island of pillows on the bed, arms circling her legs as if to protect herself from the self-imposed onslaught of emotion.

“Trivial?” she questions, fear and anxiety turning into a spark of anger.

“Ye—yeah? It’s just sex, if you want it to be. I would never let that ruin our friendship. You mean more to me than that.” Kara tries to explain.

“It’s not, it’s not trivial, Kara! It meant something to me,” Lena says ashamedly, head turning away to stare at the wall.

Kara is more confused now than she was mere moments ago. “So what’s wrong? I don’t understand. Why are you crying if it meant something to you?”

“Because—because everyone leaves after! No one sticks around after they’ve taken what they wanted from me. So I decided to leave, before you could,” Lena explains, voice watery.

“I was never going to leave, Lena. We were in my apartment for Rao’s sake!”

“You know what I mean! No one wants anything from me but my mind, my money, or my body. No one wants the Luthor bastard—“

“Hey! Don’t say that,” Kara starts.

“Why not? It’s true, it always has been.”

Lena looks downright pitiful. Beautiful eyes watery, face wet with tears and lips trembling as she tries to hold in her cries.

“I want you!”

“No you don’t!” Lena denies, voice rising hysterically.

“Lena, I would never use you like that. Is that what you think of me; that I’m some vulture?”

“I don’t know what to think! Everything happened so fast. One minute we were on the couch watching a movie and the next we were together in your bed. What more could you have wanted?” Lena questions hotly.

“You, Lena. Rao, I’ve always wanted you,” the blonde confides.

Lena denies her claim swiftly, harshly wiping her face with the back of her hand, “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, Lee. Why would you sleep with me if you thought it wouldn’t mean anything?”

“I…I was weak. I’ve wanted you for so long. I couldn’t deny the chance to have you, even if knew it would break me the next day.”

Kara reaches for Lena’s arms, pulling them away from her body and towards her own. Using one hand to tilt Lena’s head up, the hero urges Lena to face her.

“Look at me, Lena.”

When emerald eyes meet her own, Kara smiles softly. “I told you last night; I love you. I didn’t lie to you. I love you, with every fiber of my being. You mean the world to me, Lena Luthor.”

Hearing a declaration she’s only dreamed of, the scientist surges forward, intent on kissing Kara as quickly as possible. Kara has to lean back, just enough so that Lena doesn’t crash into into the equivalent of a brick wall. Their kiss was short, but sweeter than pure sugarcane.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry for leaving. I was scared,” Lena says against Kara lips.

Kara pecks her lips once, twice, three times before she replies.

“It’s okay, Lee. I forgive you. I love you so much,” she repeats.

Lena is forming her reply when a loud growl erupts from the aliens stomach. The pair burst in laughter, thankful for the levity Kara’s stomach of steel has brought.

Lena edges off the bed, reaching a hand back to Kara once she stands. “Okay, let’s go feed the monster.”

Kara agrees quickly, grabbing the outstretched hand in her own. They’ve just passed through the doorway into the kitchen when Kara stops walking, pulling Lena back to herself by their connected hands.

“Kar, what—“

Kara cuts Lena off with a kiss. It’s deep and passionate, sweet like candy and right as rain. When Kara disconnects a few moments later, she lays a peck to Lena’s cheek before resuming their trek to the kitchen.

“C’mon, Lee! I’m starving.”

Lena just follows willingly, dazed and in love.

[marauroon]

I love your new fic Hypothermic and the whole trope of Jamie being a big cuddle bug and the best friend trope always has a chokehold on me. Can you write a romantic bestfriend!james maybe about a swim in the black lake or something with a summery vibe please (I miss summer so much rn)

BALL GAME — J.POTTER

James makes the most of being your favourite person to convince you out of the castle and into the lake.

cw — james picks the reader up at one point

james potter x fem!reader || fluff || 1.3k || requests open!

a/n: best friend james has my whole entire heart i fear

Sometimes James is half convinced you’re a vampire, that your skin is so delicate that even a pinprick of sunlight will burn you into a pile of ash.

If it weren’t for your ostentatious love of the summer season—and the privilege James has as your best friend—he’d be surprised you even agreed to his request at all.

Yet there you were, sat pretty underneath the shade of one of the small willow trees lining the water with a book in your lap and a picnic blanket separating you from the grass.

Was he a little sad you’d decided not to join the group in splashing around? A little. Was he going to ask you again later with his puppy dog eyes so you couldn’t refuse him? Probably.

But right now he was content with watching how your eyebrows furrowed and left small wrinkles between your eyes as you read a particularly interesting paragraph, and the slight fluttering of your hair against the small breeze.

A sharp splash of water to the back of his head tore James’ attention from watching the way your eyes scanned the pages of your novel with your nose scrunched in a mix of surprise and disgust at whatever was printed in the ink, and he turned around with an exaggerated gesture of annoyance only to be met with another splash straight to his face.

Whilst the icy water was a nice relief from the nearly 30° heat, it was still cold.

“What was that for?” James pulls his glasses from his face to try and wipe the water droplets from the lenses with his thumb, turning Sirius’ face into a blurry pale blob in the process.

“We’re picking teams for a makeshift volleyball game? You’d know that if you stopped gawking over there like a dog in heat,” James can vaguely make out Sirius crossing his arms over his chest, and lo and behold, when he slots his glasses back on, Sirius’ expression is just as smug as he expected it to be.

“I wasn’t ‘gawking’ anywhere you twat,” James sends a splash of water in Sirius’ direction as a retaliation. “I was just appreciating the fact that she actually joined us, that’s all,”

“Appreciating her face you mean,” Sirius’ tone matches his smugness perfectly, and James lets out a short scoff with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re such a dog Pads,”

“You know it,” Sirius shoots James a wink and he pretends to gag. “Seriously though, stop staring so we can play,”

“Orrr,” Marlene wades over to the two to interrupt the conversation, laying her arm over Sirius’ shoulder. “You can go over there and convince her to join us, we’re uneven,”

James shoots another glance in your direction with an uncertain hum. “I don’t think we should disturb her,”

“We can’t play 4 to 3 James,” Marlene tilts her head and shakes it lightly. “So go bat your eyelashes and use your favouritism to get us another player,”

She gives a dismissive wave of her hand and Sirius joins her, James sending the two a very unimpressed look as he drags himself out of the water to speak to you.

It’s not the new source of shade from the sun that informs you of James’s presence, nor is it the sight of him sitting down cross-legged beside you in your peripheral vision. It’s the water droplets that sprinkle the right side of your face and the pages of your book that give him away.

“James—” You let out a low groan to voice your disapproval at him shaking his head like a dog to dry his hair, something that very clearly didn’t work very well as water continued to drip from his curls onto his shoulders, disappearing into the already soaked fabric of his t-shirt.

“Sorry sorry collateral damage I swear,” He throws up his hands in an immediate surrender, and you let out a small scoff with a shake of your head as you pull his glasses from the bridge of his nose to dry them on the hem of your t-shirt.

“Having fun then?” You leave your book on the blanket to shift onto your knees, carefully placing James’ glasses back on his face so they properly catch behind his ears.

James nods with a smile at how gentle your fingers are as they brush the sides of his cheeks when you return them to your lap. “Yeah, we’re about to play a round of volleyball, fancy joining us?”

You scrunch up your nose slightly and he can immediately anticipate your answer. “…no?”

“Awe come on we’re uneven,” James tilts his head as he gestures towards the others in the water, a small pout etched onto his face. “We can’t play 3 to 4 that’s not how it works,”

He blinks at you softly, eyes filled with carefully curated desperation. “Please? We can team up together,” He adds the idea of teaming up like it’s an added bonus to your agreement, his voice sweet, sticky, and absolutely dripping in persuasion.

He looks perfectly pathetic when he looks at you like that, and who are you really to say no to him?

“One game,” Your answer is joined by an exasperated sigh, but James reacts like you’ve just told him all of Severus’ hair has fallen out rather than begrudgingly agreeing to play water volleyball with him.

“Perfect! Let’s go,” James holds out his hand to help you up eagerly, a smile beaming across his face that almost puts the blazing sun to shame in it’s brightness.

You roll your eyes at him, but take his hand nonetheless, and he’s a little too excited in pulling you to your feet as he sends you stumbling forward from his pull, and he uses the momentum to lean down and take the top half of your body over his shoulder, hoisting you off the ground in the process.

You can sense the inevitable immediately.

“Don’t you dare—” You arms wrap tightly around James’ waist as he straightens his posture, his arms secured around your thighs as he walks the two of you towards the lake, suspiciously quiet considering his earlier excitement. “James I swear to god if you do what I think you are going to do I will destroy you,”

You kick your legs the closer you get to the water, although it’s to no real avail compared to the arm strength that is James’ chaser practice, and all it really ends up doing is garnering you an audience as James begins to wade in the water.

“James, you better put me down right now.“ Your warning falls on deaf ears, and your half surprised at the amount of will power he has to keep ignoring you as the water reaches his knees.

“James—“ You barely manage to get his name out before he dive on a you both into the water, it’s icy temperature immediately sending a chill up your spine as you resurface with a gasp, James laughing as he breaks the water himself.

“You absolute twat—” You send a splash of water in James’ direction with an over-exaggerated show of your disapproval, and he blocks it with his forearm, laughter still steadily streaming from his mouth.

Needless to say, you didn’t team with him for the volleyball game.

[thegoldencontracts]

May I request Ace, Deuce, and Riddle taking care of a Ramshackle Prefect reader who’s come down with the flu or something? (I hope requesting multiple characters at once is okay…)

Of course, multiple characters is okay! Thank you so much for requesting!

Sick Days

You're sick. Lovely. But at least your fellow schoolmates are there to make this a bit less awful.

Notes: Sickfic, my beloved, small fics for each character, reader has no pronouns, reader's face isn't mentioned to turn red, no size/hair type giveaways, etc, please tell me if I've added a description that makes the reader difficult to relate to!

You woke up feeling like absolute garbage. You felt hot and cold at the same time, your head hurt, and you were so, so dizzy.

There was a paw on your face. Grim.

"Myah, human, took you long enough!" he said. "Class already started, but the Great Grim stayed behind just for you!"

It took a second for his words to register.

What? Class already started? You're late, this is gonna be terrible, you're late, and-

"You're burnin' up!" Grim said, which was probably true, now that you thought about it. You didn't really feel like addressing his concerns.

Instead, you gave your own very intelligent input.

"Ugh."

"You should probably stay home, human. Get better, so you can get back to serving the Great Grim faster."

Even when he was concerned, Grim just had to be- well, Grim, didn't he? Whatever. You just wanted to sleep. You'd call in absent later, or whatever.

You went to sleep. Tried to, at least. It was half tossing and turning, a quarter trying to get comfortable in your blankets, an immeasurable amount of time sneezing and sniffling - Grim managed to get you a tissue box with his paws at some point and maybe one percent actual resting.

After what, according to the clock was a few hours worth of suffering, you heard a knock on your bedroom.

"Who is it?"

Ace Trappola

"Vil Schoenheit, duh." You were not letting Ace diss you while you were sick. Not a chance.

"Don't come in."

"Jeez," Ace said, seeming pretty concerned. "You sound awful. I'm coming in."

So kind, Ace. So kind. Truly, that man deserved an award for his raw tact.

The door slammed open, and you could see Ace's smug grin fall for a moment before coming back up.

"You got sick?" He said, giving you a once-over.

Obviously you were sick! What kind of question was that?

"No, I'm actually better than I've ever been," you said. "That's why I didn't come to school. To celebrate my raw level of health."

"Whatever. Can't blame you for that, but you're still and idiot for those thick blankets. You're supposed to lower your body temperature when you're sick; even Deuce knows that."

You weren't going to stand for this slander of your mutual friend - no matter how much those two tried to deny their friendship.

"Take back what you said about-"

"And get some food in your system! I'm getting you some soup."

Before you could even say anything, Ace was gone.

Was he- concerned about you? Actually, yeah, that was probably it. Ace was just built like that.

After a while, he was back, with a bowl of soup and a wet towel in hand.

"Trey, uh, had some soup leftover," he said, pressing the towel to your forehead. Cold. So cold. You wanted it off. "And the towel'll help get your temperature down. Don't take it off."

For all you made fun of Ace, he was actually so street-smart it was scary sometimes, and that included being able to read your thoughts.

"I won't," you said, more like mumbled, because your throat was so sore you'd think someone shoved a bunch of needles down it.

"You sound awful," he said with a snicker. "You need water. I'll go get it for you."

You didn't even mind the fact that he was making fun of you right now, you were just thankful for that sweet, sweet water. Your throat was dryer than the Sahara - which, funnily enough, didn't actually mean anything, since the Sahara didn't exist in Twisted Wonderland and was therefore just gibberish.

Lo and behold, he came back, carrying a thermos filled with water.

"Drink some," he said, holding the bottle up to your lips.

That gave you pause. What was next, him feeding you the soup?

Still, you needed the water, so you drank it without thinking.

It felt so good. Finally, rain in the Sahara!

You didn't have much time to rejoice before Ace held up a spoon of soup to your mouth.

"Say ah," he said, evidently very amused.

"I'm not a little kid, I can feed myself."

Ace just looked at you, unimpressed.

"Your hands're shaking so hard I can see them through the blankets," he said. "You're an idiot if you think your hands can take that soup anywhere but all over your blankets."

He was mean, but he was right. Curse him.

You opened your mouth, and he fed you a spoonful. This was how it went until the bowl was gone.

"You can leave now," you said.

"Nah," Ace replied. "You clearly need help getting better."

He was staying, wasn't he? And there was nothing you could do to change that. Whatever, maybe being babied wouldn't be so bad.

Besides, this was his own way of showing he cared, and it was one you didn't entirely mind. It'd be rude to push him away.

"Fine, fine," you said.

"Good."

And so, with Ace's help, getting better wasn't so bad.

A week later, however, Ace himself got sick. He really should've seen that coming.

"Here, say 'ah'."

"D-Don't feed me, idiot! I'm not a baby, I can do it myself."

How the turns had tabled.

Deuce Spade

"It's me, Deuce."

That was a relief.

"Come in," you said. "It's not locked."

The door opened, and you could make out the blue hair and black mark of none other than Deuce, one of your two friends from Heartslabyul - No matter how much Ace tried to deny he cared.

"You look terrible, Prefect," he said, and you knew he didn't mean to insult you, but it still hurt.

"I know," you said. "What'd you come here for?"

"You didn't come to class, so I was worried," Deuce said. "Now I know why. Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

There was one thing you wanted, more than anything.

"Water," you croaked out. "Please."

Right now, you and water were star-crossed lovers. Maybe Deuce could change that.

"Right away."

Deuce scurried out of the room, and, after a few, agonizing seconds, came back with your beloved water.

"Do you need help drinking?" he asked.

For a second, you thought that question was offensive. You could get it yourself. Then. you tried to reach for the bottle, and realized that his question was a very good one.

"Yep," you said, because your trembling hand were not bringing that bottle up to your mouth. The task just seemed daunting.

He put the bottle up to your mouth, and you drank up. Finally, your throat was parched. Relief.

"Anything else you need?" Deuce asked.

Although you didn't feel particularly nauseous right now, you weren't going to risk it with a meal. Right now, you just wanted someone to accompany you through your misery.

"Just stay with me," you asked. "You don't have to, I mean, I know you probably have a bunch of things to do, but-"

"No," Deuce said. "I'll stay with you. You're my friend, a-and, I want to do anything I can to make you feel any better."

He looked away.

"S-Sorry, I know how stupid that sounds," he said. You were going to correct his inaccurate statement.

"Deuce."

"Y-Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me."

"Thanks." Deuce scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anyways, do you wanna know what stuff in class we learned so it's easier for you to catch up?"

You smiled.

"I would love that."

Deuce made that sick day so much better. Somehow, he didn't even get sick. You honestly envied that good immune system. It was good that he didn't suffer for trying to help you, though.

Riddle Rosehearts

"Prefect, I was informed that you were absent from class today. Do you have an explanation?"

"I'm sick," you said, miffed. Riddle was actually great to be around, but god, you didn't have the patience for getting lectured right now.

Silence. More silence. Sheepish scurrying.

After a while, you hear another knock.

"Prefect, it's me," Riddle said. "I would like to apologize for my discourteous behavior prior."

The door opened, and there was Riddle, carrying a bunch of stuff.

"Aagh," was your highly intelligent greeting.

Riddle walked up to you, getting out a towel. He cast a water spell on it.

"You look quite disheveled," he said, putting the now wet towel on your forehead. "I really do feel terrible about the way I addressed you earlier. Trey had some soup leftover, would you like some?"

You nodded. You wanted something warm right now, especially with the cold cloth on your head.

"I'll get it for you, then."

From his bag, he took out a canteen, a spoon, and a napkin. He was really well-prepared, wasn't he? That really wasn't a shock. This was Riddle, after all, top student and ultimate over-preparer - actually, maybe Azul or Jamil took the latter role. Nothing could beat seeing Azul's backup-backup plans for the serious affair of buying cheese from Sam's.

Riddle handed you the soup, waving his magic-pen.

Your hand weren't trembling anymore. Weird.

"That was me," Riddle said, noticing your confusion. "The spell will temporarily let you eat in comfort."

"Thanks," you said, taking a sip of the soup. It tasted so good to your empty stomach. The nausea'd worn off some time ago, and now you were left with the burning feeling of hunger. You scarfed down that soup in no time, leaving Riddle with a concerned look.

"Are you not worried about vomiting?" he said.

You shook your head.

"I don't feel nauseous," you said. "Not now, at least."

That seemed to be a good enough answer for Riddle, who nodded.

"Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Can you help me catch up on the stuff I missed?"

"Of course," Riddle said, summoning a massive notebook. You gulped.

This was going to be a long day, wasn't it? Oh, well, at least it wouldn't be as bad as it would've been without Riddle.

Only three days after helping you get better, Riddle also got sick. You felt so bad, he was a stickler for attendance and now he was missing school because of you! You had to help him.

"I'm so, so sorry, Riddle, I swear!"

"You- achoo! H-Have nothing to- to be sorry for, Prefect."

[ourserendipity]

samsara of shattered dreams: past

(aventurine x gn!reader x dr. ratio) just some heads up, this happened before the whole penacony arc in the story. No Beta read 😎😎 (That's all I think lol. Anyways I'll be leaving for a while cuz I'll be busy and shiz 🥲🥲. hope y'all enjoyy✿) Part 1/3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Memories. Like glass, they glisten the beauty reflected by the light giving its vivid colors, and yet they are oh so frail; like the fleeting flow of life, sudden yet steady at the same time.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Looking back, you wouldn't have thought that you would see yourself in this situation; not that you already foresaw your fate in the first place. Still, there's the feeling of regret lingering at the back of your mind; one that is not directed towards you but rather to the things that you've done. If only, if only you had the power to change the course of fate maybe this wouldn't have been necessary, if only one could stop the other's heart breaking perhaps goodbyes weren't needed to be said. But alas, destiny has its own ways and so now you are trapped, here in a samsara of endless possibilities, all from the past up to the future; all that is only but a dream yet to spur along with the branches of life.

You dance, you circle around the twinkling stars swimming along azure waters that reflect the night sky, following the roots of time ever so slowly growing, a future waiting to be born, its memories captured in the garden of recollection. Spin after spin, countless lightcones spawn in the vicinity of your eyes; an attempt to draw you unto them, delving into the memories of both the future and past once more. They all glimmer in your eyes, symbolizing its high importance to those who gaze at it, but truth be told, you didn't want to look at them anymore, not when you know you'll only hurt yourself in the process. Even then, you caress them over your palms ever so gently, cherishing the moments silently; actions do speak louder than words after all.

And now you wonder, will everything be alright? Now that the stars have finally collided, and so shall your encounter with death had arrived.

"Y/n... Y/N..."

"Aventurine-"

"They're... they're gone. They really are not here anymore, huh?" He whispers, tightly holding your cold, desolate body.

Despair was imminent in the thick air that engulfs the room as he desperately tries to hold back himself from tearing on the spot. He'd hate for the two of you to see him cry and be vulnerable; after all, didn't he tell you that he doesn't bet on the losing end?

And yet here he is: lo and behold, the winner of it all, stripping him of his own tears, his own freedom to be frail and weak, all just to keep himself at bay, and yet failing so miserably.

"......."

Only silence was heard across the room, rather, it was the only answer the genius could give him. Though not fitting his character, he believes that even he could not give the response the man wanted; needed even.

"There's no time left to mourn what's already gone, we should make haste." It was the only thing he could reply. He knew he had to give him an answer somehow, else the man's insanity would escalate even further.

".....leave.."

"what?"

"leave me alone, I... I'll follow you after a while, just please let me be," he pleads achingly, as if he is almost breaking into the point of oblivion.

Utter brokenness was the only thing he heard upon Aventurine's response. And that alone already tells him that

You wished it wouldn't have been sooner, that you could stay just a little bit longer. And so you fought, no, you ran, you ran along with them in the dark in hopes of outrunning time but to no avail. In the end, you still had to go, regret trailing alongside your eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey no fair! that's my share Aventurine!"

"Not when you say please~"

"Such prudence... Will you two stop the act already?"

"Ooh so scary, Mr. Alabaster head~" you tease, obviously trying to mock him and his antics.

"Indeed. I wonder, where is that handsome bust of yours? You don't seem to wear it as much anymore~" Aventurine coos, whilst holding the bag of candies on his right hand, with you struggling on the other hand, trying to reach the said bag from him.

He scoffs upon hearing the blonde's remarks, though what he was saying is true. If he were to be honest, he doesn't see the two of you as an idiot, but he wouldn't openly admit it to both of you, not with his pride and ego of course. Sighing, he knocks the blonde's head lightly, making the guy dramatically wince in pain.

"ow, that hurts y'know?" he cries all the while you were there, stifling a laughter trying not to laugh at his obvious acting.

It was just a simple day for the three of you in the IPC and yet at that moment, everything felt light; it felt as if the three of you were simply living in your own world, rightfully so. It felt so comforting, like a dream you wish that will never end. But then...

All those years of endless banter, the fondness of even the simplest of times; both good and bad, and them, the two of which you truly had loved with all of your heart, the stars you thought you would never reach; but you did, ever so effortlessly. To think that fate had allowed for the three of you to meet is a miracle from the aeons themselves. And despite their clashing personalities, the pointless arguments they dare not speak of, the past one does not wish to return to, you made it work somehow, like fixing the broken pieces of a broken glass only to be shattered again, all because of that stupid, cruel thing called fate. But somehow, you found yourself here in the samsara, reborn from the memories that you hold, now with a new purpose; to collect and to preserve new memories once more, in hopes of retaining what's for the future to hold on to when the time comes. And now that you have regained life in a different form, perhaps you could go back to the real world, to raise a bud anew, in that beautifully miserable place. And perhaps you could meet them again, not letting go of any opportunity given to you, to build a new bridge, to finally reconnect the three of you once more, all for a better future.

"May the cosmos guide you to the path of the unknown, my beloved stars. "

to be continued......

xx/xx/xxxx

xx:xx

From: ■■■■■■■

To: ■■■■■■■■■■, ■■■■■■■■■■

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

To Aventurine

"To my dearest gambler, blessed upon the gaze of Gaiathra. I simply bestow to you my full adoration and longing. The unknown may hold us captive in our own, but we shall be the winners who'll decide the results; and it seems like it in your side, to which I could only pray for its continuous flow. I am truly humbled by your guts and wits, my dear. But despite it all, I could feel the lingering despair each time you gamble your life away. So to you I offer this humble gift; a gift of life and new comings. Never forget, you are Kakavasha, born from the bright yellow star, blessed by abundant luck and fortune. May you walk upon this newly lit path of destiny, along with him and what's left of us. "

To Ratio

"To my favorite scholar, truly a genius amongst geniuses. I could only stare in awe upon all of the achievements you have gotten. I may not be as potent as your vast amounts of knowledge nor do I reach the same standards as you do, but please be reminded that there are things that even the smartest revolutionists simply could not have a grasp of. And even if it seems that one's passing is but a swift gust of wind in your eyes, I could tell: the moment my drifting eyes meet yours, those eyes of yours are telling otherwise. So please, be a little bit nicer to them next time. You may never know; that in the future, he will be in your saving grace, hoping that you'll spare him the sympathy that he truly needs. "

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

[weaselle]

i am convinced that human evolution and development was centered around the basic up-grade from "i steal your resources" to "i steal your behaviors and concepts"

We got clever enough and we just started copying absolutely everything we observed just because now we could figure out how to copy concepts and things that other animals were doing

see that squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter? we can do that. okay now how do we make these acorns edible, cause they are poisonous to a number of animals and we don't do great with them either. What if you put them in the fire? or just on hot coals? what if you put them in water on hot coals and boil them? Oh if you soak them in cold water for 24 hours and maybe change the water a couple times you can totally eat them? YOINK storing acorns for winter is our idea now.

or, you ever seen a weaver bird do it's thing? if not i'll give you one guess what they do

or how about the tailor bird that uses spider silk to stitch the edges of a big leaf together to make a nest in

or sometimes they'll stitch a bunch of leaves into a little cup for a nest

like i'm not trying to downplay how clever it is to be the first humans to weave or sew, and indeed, being the first person to weave that anyone knew about probably happened many times throughout human existence but my conceit is that most if not all of those times was a human seeing something in nature that was basically weaving and going "i'ma do that, and get real good at it - i'ma take that concept and really make it mine"

like it wouldn't surprise me if humans got dogs because we saw how ravens were treating wolves and went "shit yeah, great idea - YOINK that's my idea now."

most of the things that we think of as special human skill or behavior can actually be found elsewhere throughout nature -- all over there are animals using tools, farming, ranching, building, etc.

my favorite primate behavioralist anecdote is a group of people studying tool use in chimps were spending their days in the bush logging the use of twigs to catch termites, and over the campfire at night they're like "it's so boring i wish they'd do something more impressive than this completely basic tool skill."

and one of them was like "actually... how do we know its not a difficult skill? has anyone tried to use a twig to catch termites and see?" and so the next day, like good little scientists, they went out and recorded their attempts at catching termites with twigs.

And lo and behold out of the whole group and all their attempts that day, only, like, a single termite was caught by a human, mostly by chance. Suddenly the whole situation flipped - they'd been thinking of it as basic unskilled tool use, but actually the chimps knew how to do something that none of them could easily figure out on their own - or even together as a group!

y'all, they had to go back to watching the chimps do it to figure out how. Think about that. University degrees, scientific minds, educated people... and they had to be taught how by the chimps.

It turns out there's a reason that young chimps will spend like a year closely studying how an adult is fishing for termites. You gotta select the right kind of twig or leaf stem, maybe you fray the end like a paint brush depending on particulars, you gotta have just the right poking and little shaking technique to provoke the termites into biting the twig, it's a whole thing. There's even regional/cultural differences in the general approach to termite fishing that are distinct between groups that live in different areas.

Now, wild chimps have been observed using objects as tools to fashion crude spears for hunting (it's the mothers doing it by the way, and slowly some of their kids have been growing up doing it, which will probably result in refinements and developments eventually.

ants do both farming and ranching. For real. Some species of ant grow a fungus they eat AND it's a domesticated fungus, like our corn, it can't actually reproduce and survive in the wild without the ants farming it. They maintain its growing conditions and feed it leaf litter mulch, and the fungus produces some kind of ant food idk i forget the details about that. But that's farming. They are farming a domesticated mushroom, basically. And other species of ant will maintain a herd of aphids; they'll move them from grazing area to grazing area, and protect them from predators, and they "milk" them for a liquid food substance and also every now and then they straight up eat one. That's ranching.

beavers sometimes have muskrat... tenants? pets? The muskrats low key pay rent by changing out the reed bedding they all use, and they live in the beaver's lodge with them and eat some of the food. So. idk

Some Tarantulas keep frogs as pets

anyway my point is, i think the true human skill that sets us apart is our ability deconstruct and reconstruct anything we see into something that is for us. Oh, you eat that? Now WE eat that. You have the perfect teeth to drill little holes in specific tree trunks to let the sap ooze out and eat it because it's high in sugar? We don't have those teeth but we're gonna do that now and if we can't figure out a tool that's as good as your teeth at it, watch out, because we will absolutely just also steal your fuckin teeth.

[dracoxmalereader]

Watering Can

Draco x Male Reader

Context: A four-quel to my other ficlets All at Once, Windowsill, and Summer Sun. Reader is a ravenclaw in the year above Draco, and this fic takes place in Draco's fifth year (your sixth year) during Order of the Phoenix.

Also it's burdensome to keep linking every one of the previous parts, plus I imagine it's an eyesore, so if you want to read all the parts going forward they can be found on Wattpad and Ao3 under the name "Intense". <3

Summary: Draco can't help but go into Inquisitorial Squad Leader Mode™ when Filch mentions hearing rats in the greenhouses only for them to mysteriously vanish when he goes in to look. Lo and behold, who else would it be but the Ravenclaw he's more infatuated with by the day.

Word Count: 1560

The plaques on the wall shone in the dull light of the night sky. Bouncing off the glass, shining over the reflection of the hallway, the moon cast smudges of light gray along the dark walls. Draco's feet were cold against the floor.

He made quick work of his bathroom break, trotting back down the corridor towards the Slytherin dorms, wiping his freshly washed hands on his wool shirt. Footsteps rang from the end of the hallway, and Draco froze.

"Stinking bloody rats-" Filch muttered under his breath, his lantern lighting the walls before he turned the corner.

"What are you on about?" Draco stepped forward, the inquisitor within him already accustomed to jump at the chance to assert discipline upon other students.

"Filthy rats in the bloody greenhouses." Filch stopped in his tracks and rumbled on. "I hear 'em, but I can't find even one of the damn things. Gone before I get there, every time." His voice was bitter and rough like gravel.

Draco nodded, interest peaked.

Filch adjusted his grip on the handle of his lantern, Mrs. Norris yawned where she was tucked into his free arm. "Get to bed," He spoke, tone not lacking malice. "Wouldn't want to send Umbridge her own lapdog." He cleared his throat, starting again down the hallway.

Draco scoffed. Filch was one to talk about being Umbridge's lapdog. He rolled his eyes and pushed past Filch uncaringly, baring a sneer at the squib. He waited for them to disappear around another corner, rerouting himself when the last of Mrs. Norris's bushy tail was out of sight.

The school was quiet as he made his way through it, calm. He ducked past the dark walls until his feet touched the dirt-marred floor of the greenhouse hallway. He cringed at the feeling, but carried on.

Creeping along, he leaned slightly into the doorway of greenhouse one. His eyes scanned the room, the boxes of soil lining the walls empty.

Sloshing water broke his concentration. He turned towards the noise, squinting his eyes at greenhouse three across the hallway. He caught sight of a figure hovering over the plants, and pulled his wand from his pocket.

Gripping it tightly, he approached the doorway of greenhouse three as quietly as he could, waving it in the air before pointing it at the figure and casting, "Expelliarmus!"

Your startled shout rang through the air, watering can flying out of your grip and landing with a thud on the ground, rolling over and leaking water onto the floor.

"What the hell?" Your familiar voice made his stomach drop, and he swore he could feel the shame in his nail beds. You were audibly pissed, angry even. It was almost as terrifying as his father's wrath. "I'm not going to attack you with a watering can! Unnecessary!"

You dug your wand out of your pocket and flicked it in the air, muttering a Lumos and filling the greenhouse with light.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.

You blew a puff of air from your nose. Your brows were furrowed. "Draco." Your voice around his name was laced with a bite he'd never heard from you, and it had him regretting every decision he'd ever made. His throat felt dry. "You gonna take me Um-bitch? Someone has to keep the plants alive."

"You shouldn't be out of bed after hours-" He chased the words out of his mouth, knees feeling weak from the clever nickname given to Umbridge.

Your scowl shut him up.

"Sorry," Draco choked, voice cracking.

His face felt hot, hotter than the air in the train car he'd last been able to speak to you in. He coughed, and it did little to quell the tightness in his airways.

"I, uh... I won't take you to Um-bitch." He let a breathless chuckle escape him.

You looked him up and down, and felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. One of your brows jerked up in suspicion, and he wanted to run his thumb along it, to feel the muscles under the skin tense and relax.

He stepped into greenhouse three, taking a shaky breath and pushing closer despite the tension. He picked the watering can up off the floor, avoiding the puddle that had formed around it. The space beneath his ribs burned, and he held it out to you, his eyebrows raised in sincerity.

Your eyes met, and he hoped he looked as apologetic as he felt. Your face had matured over summer break and the beginning of the year, and he subconsciously tallied all the ways your face managed to fit you impossibly better. He wanted to touch it and feel for himself how your features had changed.

His lungs quivered when you reached to take the watering can back with your free hand. Your fingers brushed his on the handle, and he felt sparks fly up his arm. His knuckles ached. He wanted to throw the stupid watering can across the room and lace his fingers with yours.

"Thank you." The suspicion and anger bled from your face, and you returned to contently watering a line of plants, shriveled beyond identification.

He watched you quietly, admiring how your dirty fingers pressed and prodded the soil. "Regerminating Potion would help." He offered, pulse speeding up when your eyes met again. He'd missed you over break, and he found it a real shame he didn't see more of you day to day.

"That's a sixth year potion." You pointed out, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Draco felt his face heat up.

His eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth around an excuse he couldn't find to make. He'd rather go full inquisitor on you again than admit he'd been reading ahead and studying even advanced sixth year potions for the chance you'd need more help from him. Your observation went unanswered.

"We're not allowed to make potions anyways." Your smile morphed into something more leisurely, working your way to the last of the plants.

Finished watering, you set the can down on the ground quietly and looked at him. Maybe having special inquisitor privileges wasn't all that bad, Draco thought.

"I could make you some."

"You'd do that?"

Draco swallowed roughly. He'd do anything for you if you asked. "You want me to?"

He stared into your eyes, hoping you were paying close enough attention to see the unspoken vulnerability in them. He wanted to break every rule Dolores Umbridge put in place if it meant he could make you happy. His bones felt restless.

You blinked, and your eyes faltered for a moment. They flicked down over his face, catching on his lips and he felt his stomach lurch forward. His own eyes fell to yours before he tore them away and found you already looking back into his eyes.

It felt like you were strung together, thread tightening with every breath that fanned between the shortening space between your faces.

You took an audibly shaky breath, and Draco hoped it meant you were as flustered as he was. Your mouth poised open, forming words on your tongue that lost their chance to be spoken when the light of Filch's lantern reflected on the glass walls across the hallway.

The light at the tip of your wand went out. Draco whispered for you to duck under the table at the center of the room. Your wand clunked against the floor as you did, and Filch's footsteps picked up in speed until he was limping into the greenhouse almost shouting about the filthy rats he was set on catching.

Draco felt anxiety lick up his spine. "No rats here, there was only one." He spoke, projecting his voice like was giving a speech, guttural lilt not unlike the tone he took up with Potter. "Made quick work of the pest, you can be sure of that."

Filch huffed, peeved but uncomplaining. Must just be thankful those 'rats' are out of the picture, Draco figured. "I'm not gonna tell you again." Filch grumbled. "To bed with you." He twitchily shook his head and tore his disapproving glare from the room, righting back on his path around the school.

Mrs. Norris lingered in the doorway, nose bobbing against the floor, sniffing. Draco crossed his fingers behind his back and his gaze dropped to you. He held his breath even when his heart picked up at the amused look you gave him from under the table. Mrs. Norris licked the back of her paw before trotting away back to Filch.

When he held his hand out to help you up, it's a miracle it wasn't too sweaty to grip onto. He felt adrenaline pulse through his veins, and the energized smile you gave him mirrored his own as it crept onto his face.

"You know, these pajamas are a good look on you." You stayed in his space, pinching the fabric of his sleeve between two fingers. Butterflies raced through his chest at the contact.

The lightheartedness made him want to kiss you, made him want to pull you into a hug and breathe in your smell. You blinked at him and he blinked back, head reeling, picturing all the ways he wanted to break more of his own rules with you.

My mom watched me make the Wattpad cover for this and told me she appreciates that I never stopped being a pre-teen. To express my gratitude this chapter is dedicated to her. Thank you mom for supporting my antics. <3

Drawing by me

Tags: @gayaristocrat @nowayisthistakenyet @dracoshusband

[criminalmindswhore]

I am lost.

TW: alcohol abuse, general sadness, depression

This is gonna be a long one, I don't feel like making it into different parts

When you joined the BAU you were coming out of a pit of depression you didn't even know you were in. You didn't join in on jokes, go to Ross's for dinner, and rarely smiled. After a month or so you started to come out of your depression, finally feeling supported by those around you. Emily always made sure you had a full cup of coffee when she refilled hers. Reid always brought you a rock or something from his lunch break walks. Garcia would send you pictures of flowers after hard cases. Hotch even hugged you once. JJ became like an older sister to you. She was only a few years older than you but she became your main support. Emily and her went out of their way to make sure you three always shared a room on cases to make sure you slept and showered.

Recently you could feel the darkness creeping in on you again. You were working so hard to prove yourself to everyone, Strauss, Hotch, and most importantly your mom. The things that usually brought you joy, like running with Morgan, no longer brought you any joy. Morgan picked up on it when you started flaking on him most mornings. He would get a text at 3 a.m., "I'm not gonna make it to our run this morning, I think the takeout we got in Georgia isn't agreeing with me, sorry!" Reid noticed when you stopped bringing lunch to work, insisting you would eat a big dinner. You two always ate together after his walk, debriefing from the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy. He didn't like the show but he watched it to connect to you.

Emily noticed when you guys were in New York for a case. She texted you to let you know Hotch dismissed everyone for the night and she wanted to grab dinner with you. When you didn't answer by the time she got to the room she assumed you were in the shower, but the shower wasn't on. "Hey, have you seen Y/N?" JJ looked up from her book concerned, "No, she disappeared when we got back. I assumed she was meeting you or Morgan." Emily shook away the slight panic and picked up her phone and wallet. "I'm gonna go ask Morgan." JJ nodded, "Keep me updated." Emily nodded and bit her lip.

"No, she said she was gonna go grab a drink and head to bed." Morgan shrugged. Reid perked up behind him, "Is she okay? She's been acting weird." Emily sighed in their doorway, "I don't know. I'm gonna talk to her." Morgan smiled at her, "Just let me know if I need to do anything, princess." Emily took the comfort he was offering by using the pet name. She left their room and walked down to the hotel bar. Lo and behold there you were, sitting at the bar whiskey in hand looking empty. She sighed and walked over to you, taking her place on the stool next to you. You didn't acknowledge her just kept swirling your glass. "Y/N, what's going on?" She took the glass from your hands and asked the bartender for water. You sat up and looked at her offended, "Can I not just have a drink after a long day of tracking down this psycho?" Your tone was straight and a little mean. Emily knew the anger wasn't directed at her and her gaze softened seeing the bags under your eyes. "Y/N you need to talk to me," her tone was soft and gentle. "I don't know what to tell you, Emily. I'm fine, if you don't trust me to have a drink alone maybe you should check yourself." You snatched the glass off the bartop and shot it back, drinking it all in one go. Emily took a deep breath, "Everyone is worried about you. Your regressing back into the person we met when you joined the team. We study behavior for a living Y/N/N." You glared at her, "You all profiled me?" The bartender set down water and slid your tab over to you, exposing how much you've drank. Emily took notice of the 8 whiskeys on your tab and how you left a way too high tip. "Drink the water." Emily's tone was stern and you knew she wouldn't let you leave until you drank it all. The water was cold and kept the burning anger from taking over. "Emily I'm fine." You were completely dejected from her, not even looking at her now.

"That's a lie." Emily was not going to give it up tonight and you knew it. "Either you tell me, or I go to Hotch right now." There was too long of a pause and Emily went to stand. You grabbed her hand, "Fine, just don't get Hotch, please. Being taken off this case would make things so much worse." She sat back down and held onto your hand. You took a deep breath. Everything in you screamed not to tell her, to shut her out, but the look in her eyes pulled all your walls down. "My depression has been bad again and I've been drinking a lot. I've never drunk on the job or been intoxicated at work. I just needed something to make me less numb. I feel so empty all the time except when I'm at work or with you." Emily could see the pain in your eyes, "I think I slept with the director's daughter too but I don't remember. Obviously, it didn't help. It honestly made it worse because it solidified something I've been fighting for months." Emily's heart broke slightly hearing you slept with someone but she shoved it away. "Y/N you could've come to me or JJ or anyone. You are not a burden to us and we want you happy and healthy. Even if it means late-night talks or teary phone calls. We are here for you, don't shove us out. Do you know what triggered this?" You nodded sadly, gripping her hand tighter, "Hotch rejected three of my reports because I didn't write them properly one night when I was on hour 45 with no sleep. It sent me down a spiral of proving myself and overworking." Emily smiled at you, "Y/N, that happens to all of us, it doesn't make you any less of a good agent." You laughed, "Yeah logically, but my brain doesn't think logically when it comes to me. I can think logically about everyone else's issues, but never my own." Emily grabbed your chin and made you look at her, "You have nothing to prove, we all know you're amazing at this job. Y/N you need to get help with this beautiful brain of yours." She smiled sadly at you. Tears started slipping from your eyes, your drunken brain not realizing you were crying. She wiped a tear from your cheek, "Let's go to bed, and we game plan tomorrow okay?" You nodded at her.

She pulled you from your seat, never letting go of your hand. She took the time in the elevator to send Morgan a text, 'I got her. She's okay. Talk more in the morning.' You were swaying to the elevator music, feeling lighter now that you've told someone you were struggling. "You're gonna fall over." Emily laughed at your drunken state, and you shook your head. "Em, I got this." Just as the elevator stopped you slipped and she caught you by the waist. The closeness of your faces took you both back. Your breath hitched which didn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired beauty. You stood up and cleared your throat, Emily smiled to herself. You were so beautiful to her in every way. Even in all the darkness that swam in your eyes, she could see the goofy girl you were inside. She opened the room door for you and JJ perked up, "Y/N! I missed you! Wanna cuddle?" You laughed at her and pulled PJs from your bag. "Let me change first and then all 3 of us can lay together?" Your voice slurring was all she needed to know. While attempting to take your shirt off you almost toppled over. "Here let me help you Y/N." Emily grabbed the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to consent. You nodded and just stared at her face while she took off your shirt and helped you change. She was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. After you were changed you wiggled into bed between Em and JJ. You turned on a movie but immediately fell asleep holding Emily like a teddy bear. JJ smiled at you, "Is she slipping again?" She asked, not really wanting to know the truth. "Yeah, she was 7 deep when I got there. She told me everything. She slept with the director's daughter." JJ grimaced and Emily had a look of horror on her face. "You told her yet?" JJ had a childlike excitement on her face, Emily giggled shaking her head, "Not yet, not while she's vulnerable like this. Soon though once we get our girl through this." JJ smiled, she genuinely loved the idea of her two best friends being together. Emily told her about her crush on you immediately encouraging her to tell you.

Emily came over when you got back from New York and helped you clear out the many, many, empty bottles of alcohol you had collected. "Y/N, this is a little absurd, I counted 4 bottles in the bathroom alone." You toyed with the hem of your slacks, "Yeah if you buy in bulk at the store on 34th street it's cheaper." A month later you felt like yourself again. Emily spent the night a lot when you felt dark, she would hold you while you cried and would make sure you ate. Morgan would start showing up at your apartment for runs instead of meeting, forcing you out of bed. JJ started sending you home with notes and drawings from the boys. Reid bought you a few crystals that he swears work with depression.

One night you, JJ, Garcia, and Emily were at your apartment watching movies and building a Lego set of a piano. It was getting late so you wished JJ and Garcia a good night before returning to Emily on the couch. You sat beside her and looked at her. She looked at you from her phone and saw tears forming in your eyes. She immediately set her phone down and grabbed your hands, "Hey, what's wrong?" She looked concerned, ready to jump into action, and then you smiled. "I just feel so loved and it's a new feeling for me. The whole team has done so much for me this month to help me. I just feel so much better and I can't thank you guys enough." Emily felt tears in her eyes, she was so happy you felt loved and better. "Y/N, we would give the world for you. At least I know I would." You turned to face her on the couch, now crisscross apple sauce. "Emily, thank you." You pressed a simple kiss on her cheek. She relished in the feeling, her cheeks turning bright red. You gaped at her, "Miss Prentiss are you blushing?" She closed her eyes and winced, "Yeah?" You cackled, "You're being so soft right now, who are you?" She opened her eyes and stared directly into yours, now was the right moment. You were stable, one month sober, and making jokes again.

"I'm a woman in love with you."

Your heart exploded, she loved you. Before you had time to think you cupped her face and kissed her. Her hands went to your waist. Your lips felt exactly as she imagined they would, soft, and plump and you tasted like strawberry lip balm. You pulled away but kept her face close, "Emily Prentiss, I love you." She smiled and a tear slipped down her cheek. At that moment, foreheads touching, the pieces of your life snapped into place. Her fingers traced patterns on your hips, her soft face in your hands.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

so just as any besties do, @teddybearbutchh and i were talking about the whole 'shax wears a cobra belt' thing, and we might have just dreamt up The Most heartstopping thing to date... but couple of key notes first:

i know people have remarked that shax most obviously wears the belt in the modern scenes, indicating some kind of power play that she pinched it from crowley's flat. issue is - im fairly sure that she wears it in 1941 (you can see a glimpse of it at the end when she's present in the audience between furfur and dagon), which would suggest it leans more towards herons-eat-snakes symbolic explanation. taking one step further, im regarding this as some kind of foreshadowing that there will be some kind of direct conflict between her and crowley

shax is either a social climber, or has incredible amounts of career ambition - probably a bit of both, but im leaning towards the latter. im still also of the mind that the reason she has the ear of the council is because she's an informant (and a good one at that) and her MO is to recruit others to do the dirty work for her... so when she tells furfur that she'll pay him back if he ever gives her information that she can use, it stands to reason that she'd be pretty miffed re: furfur seemingly going maverick to catch aziraphale and crowley in the act. i feel like her smirk at the end of the ep, plus how cold furfur is towards her in ep5, would support this somewhat

^but shax is still armed with the knowledge that there's something between aziraphale and crowley (furfur might not have hard proof anymore but he obviously wasn't lying, not when you consider his confidence from shax's perspective), and to catch them would be tantamount to a promotion

chekhov's gun #1: the derringer

chekhov's gun #2: zombies still roaming around london, with one of them presumably still having access to the bookshop if aziraphale invited her in when she posed as an MI operative

chekhov's gun #3: constant mentions in both 1941 flashbacks of 'the paperwork'

shax makes a point in the bentley to separate out the statement that there were rumours that aziraphale and crowley were "an item", which arguably is a good hop, skip and a jump away from "consorting and collaborating" as furfur termed it

a bit about the holy water: crowley first asks for it in 1862, after an indeterminate number of times/length of time in hell, probably under some kind of torture. he and aziraphale then presumably don't speak until 1941, but he remarks again how easy it would be to get holy water from the church, "it doesn't even have guards!". then it's in 1967 that he plans the heist to rob a church. now believe me, i love the explanation that crowley was simply inspired by good, ol' 007 to make getting the water as dramatic as possible, but. if he was that desperate for it, why not just... tempt someone, or even just ask someone for a bottle of it? from a church? i can't imagine that he'd purposefully wait 26 years for something that he felt was literally life-or-death (so to speak), and then only be reminded of it when JB came out? so, what was keeping him for a quarter of a century?

herein lies the batshit part 3 spec of 1941. shax takes advantage of the situation, to get ahead on the greasy pole; goes up to earth, finds the zombies, recruits them one last time to get into the bookshop - possibly to get ahold of the photograph and take the credit for furfur's scheme. 'lo and behold, aziraphale and crowley are low-key about to jump each other (waving the tired and battered 1941 truther flag), which is just plain excellent for shax - and would fuel the 'rumours' that they were an 'item'. but zombies give themselves away before anything juicy really happens (boo), and some kind of fight ensues.

derringer gets pulled out of the mystery book (bonus points if it's a bible, or something like sense and sensibility), crowley gets shot, probably trying to protect aziraphale, gets discorporated. he's summarily trapped in hell, sorting through the fucking paperwork, until sometime in the 1960s. reinvigorates his scheme to get his hands on holy water, aziraphale hears about it, and gives it to him (now having been confronted with The Direct Consequences hell will have for crowley if anything like this ever happens again), and wards him off from getting too close to aziraphale, because of the danger it poses. "you go too fast for me".

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Okay you'll forgive me being sooo self indulgent with this ask, but: Sickie Aiden + Caretaker Spirit + tummy rubs. I NEED to see this girl be a softie towards him, I've been thinking of them all week

First request from the ask game!! Love this so much! Thank you, Soup!!

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The brewery/restaurant that was only a five-minute walk from campus had been a bold choice for Aiden’s lunch.

The place had those Mexican-style egg rolls and insanely good jalapeño burgers with thick patties. On any other day, Aiden would have been smart enough to know better than to get such a heavy and greasy meal. But after two morning exams and no breakfast or snacks, he had been too exhausted and too hungry to be smart.

Two Mexican eggrolls, a jalapeño burger, garlic fries, and a large Sprite is what he got himself. In the moment, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to him. But as soon as he finished his Sprite, he realized it was a major mistake

Thankfully, he didn’t have any more exams that day, but he did have to sit through a long and painful lecture while his stomach was gurgling horribly. He kept burping quietly into his fist, being as quiet as possible. He broke into a cold clammy sweat before the lecture ended, and he immediately left as fast as he could once the class was dismissed.

He found himself in the bathroom, on his knees in a stall while gagging dryly over the toilet. Nothing came up, even though he stayed for twenty whole minutes.

When he gave up on trying to puke, he was pasty as a ghost. He splashed some water on his face and went on his way. He felt like a zombie with a stomachache. He just wanted to go home, take some tums, and sleep.

He was so thankful that he didn’t live too far from campus. On the drive over and while going upstairs to his apartment, he kept letting out small airy burps that didn’t bring him any relief. Once inside, he immediately got the box of tums from his kitchen, popping two in his mouth on his way to his couch. Laying down, he used his fist to muffle a string of burps that burned in his nose and made him grimace.

He was dizzy with nausea, and just needed to close his eyes. It’ll pass, he told himself while planting a hand on his bloated stomach. It was straining against the black sweatpants he wore to class, and he pushed the waistband down to relieve the pressure.

Despite feeling tired and just wanting to sleep, he just couldn’t. He was so nauseous, but all that kept coming up was little annoying burps. He felt so shitty.

He stayed on the couch for so long, wishing to just fall asleep. But suddenly, he startled and his eyes opened when he heard a knock at his door.

He groaned, figuring it was one of his neighbors or something and hoping that if he ignored them, they’d just go away. More knocking. A bit more.

Then Aiden’s phone began to ring, and with an annoyed sigh he took it out of his pocket and looked at it. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he sat up too quickly, causing him to clamp a hand over his mouth as he felt his stomach leap. Nothing but a long, wet burp came up.

He’d forgotten Spirit was coming over. Over the last two weeks, they’d had maybe two or three more little movie hang-outs. And tonight was one of those hang-out nights.

He mentally cursed at himself for forgetting. He didn’t answer the phone and forced himself to get up and go the door, pulling his pants back up on his way there. Lo and behold, Spirit was standing there, holding something rectangle-shaped and wrapped a page from the school’s newspaper.

“Hey,” she said, and Aiden couldn’t help but get caught up on how beautiful she looked with her hair in messy twin-buns and wearing a ‘I SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME’ t-shirt that went all the way down to her knees. The scars and bruises on her face hadn’t gone away completely just yet, but they added a sort of dangerous aspect to her beauty.

Meanwhile, he knew he looked pathetic in comparison to her. “Hey,” he said tiredly.

Spirit slightly raised her brow. “Were you asleep?”

He put on a smile and shrugged. “Um. . . not exactly.” He stepped aside so Spirit could walk in. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding to the rectangle-shaped thing in her hands.

“Oh,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “I got you something.”

They went over to the couch and she handed him the gift. He ripped open the newspaper-wrapping and smiled as he looked down at 3 different books.

“They’re all thrifted, so the covers are a bit worn and there’s some fold-lines in the pages, but there’s no stains or notes or missing pages. I thought you’d like these.”

The books were ‘Wild Bird’, ‘Jellicoe Road’, and ‘Magnolia: Flower of Death’. Aiden had never seen or heard of any of these.

“There not super popular,” Spirit said with a shrug, “but I like them.”

“They look interesting.”

“‘Jellicoe Road’ and ‘Magnolia’ both have a little bit of a romantic sub-plot, so you might not be that into it, but—”

“Nah, I like romance,” Aiden said with a shrug. “I once read ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ because my mom wouldn’t shut up about it, and I actually liked it. Romance is cool.”

Spirit’s eyes widened with genuine surprise. It took everything in her not to smile because it was lowkey adorable to think that this big guy was a fan of romance books! Spirit blushed and prayed it wasn’t too obvious.

“This one doesn’t have any of those newspaper or author review things on the cover,” he said, holding up ‘MAGNOLIA: Flower of Death’.

“Yeah. It was written by some teenager who self-published. It’s not that popular, but it’s really good.”

Aiden nodded, putting the gifts on his coffee table. “Thanks so much,” he said, smiling at Spirit.

She smiled back.

They wound up putting on an action movie rather than a horror one this time. Aiden was thankful that Spirit was so enthralled by the movie that she didn’t notice him muffling a few small burps. However, she did notice something wrong with him when his stomach abruptly growled loudly, and he went about two shades paler.

“You okay?” Spirit asked, studying him.

Aiden tried his best to smile reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Clearly, he was lying. That was the moment when Spirit learned this boy was a horrible liar.

“You look off,” she said, pausing the movie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he assured her, but he looked anything but and he wound up muffling another burb against his fist while Spirit was still studying him.

She frowned. “Are you sick?”

Aiden was about to deny it, but he realized there was no point. With a sigh, frowning, he nodded reluctantly. “It’s not a bug or anything. Lunch just didn’t settle right with me, but that’s my own fault.”

Spirit now noticed that Aiden’s belly was clearly bloated underneath his shirt. Now it made sense why he looked so tired when she got there.

“Do you want me to leave so you can sleep?” she asked. Aiden’s eyes widened at her question (or rather because she sounded a bit disappointed when she asked it) and he immediately told her he didn’t want her to leave.

“Let’s finish the movie,” he said to her. “Really, I don’t want you to leave yet.”

Spirit couldn’t help but smile a bit at him. “Okay.”

She pressed play on the movie. Now that she knew Aiden was sick though, she was more aware of him hesitantly rubbing his own stomach and the little burps he kept muffling. Eventually, an idea came to her that had her blushing just from thinking it.

“Hey,” she said to him, getting his attention. “Do you. . . would you want me to rub your stomach?” Just asking that made her blush with embarrassment. His eyes widened a bit, surprised by the offer, and Spirit noticed his pale cheeks turning a bit more pink than usual. She prayed that her own face wasn’t too flushed. 

He nodded, and Spirit wound up grabbing a cushion from the side of the couch and putting it on her lap. She patted the cushion, signaling for him to put his head there. 

Aiden hesitated for a second before moving down a bit to lay his head on the cushion, laying on his side. Spirit turned red, but thankfully Aiden didn’t see her at that moment.

She reached her hand down to his stomach, rubbing it over his shirt. She could feel how bloated and gurgle it was, and she let out a sympathetic sigh. “That probably feels gross,” she said, and he hummed in agreement.

Spirit kept trying to watch the movie, but her focus kept getting drawn to Aiden’s head on her lap. She had the overwhelming urge to run a hand through his tousled hair. She got lost in the motion of rubbing his stomach. She pressed in a bit, making his stomach gurgle louder than it had before and they both startled when a loud belch came up, and Spirit saw Aiden’s ears turn red and he sat up, covering his face with a hand. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “That was so gross. I am so sorry, Spirit.”

Spirit put a hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “A bit gross, yeah, but it really is fine.”

Aiden, still completely embarrassed and beet-red, looked at her. “You sure?”

Spirit smiled and patted the cushion on her lap again. “C’mon. I’ll keep rubbing your belly.”

Still red, he laid back down and Spirit kept rubbing, pressing in and making him burb a few more times, each time making him redder.

Eventually, Spirit was able to focus on the movie while still rubbing Aiden’s stomach. He eventually stopped belching, but Spirit didn’t stop massaging his upset gut.

”You feeling any better?” Spirit asked him eventually. She got no answer.

She leaned forward a bit to get a look at his face, and she had to bite her cheek to keep from grinning too much when she realized he was asleep with one of his limp hands on her knee.

She didn’t dare to wake him. Thankfully, she could grab the remote without moving. Still rubbing his stomach, she let him sleep and stayed.

There wasn’t any part of her that wanted to leave.

[kairiscorner]

I have come with another miguel x filipino reader request that is relatable and comes from another skit.

Hint: Distrust 101

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cv21-4AOnIb/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

THE GENERATIONAL TRAUMA OF THE ICE CREAM LAGAYAN NA ME ULAM URGHRHRHRHHRHRHRH we cannot escape it, hence miggy has to deal with us.

it isn't ice cream, is it? – miguel o'hara x filipino!reader

another hot day was upon you, and the only best way you knew how to cool off was through going through a batch of your favorite ice cream. you couldn't remember if you finished it already or not, but when you saw the container in the fridge... you got excited and even hungrier. you smiled as you took the container out of the fridge, it was cool yet it wasn't frozen like ice cream usually would be–but you didn't mind, it was ice cream... right?

usually, nobody would be bothered by the sight of ice cream in the fridge–they'd be excited, usually. but you were in a constant state of uneasiness as you gently shook the container, feeling your doubt pool in your stomach and settle there for a moment as you tried thinking back if you had any soup or stew for dinner last night, or anything small enough to fit in the ice cream container that would be anything but the cold, creamy treat. you contemplated on the odds of it actually being ice cream and it being the dinner or lunch you and miguel had the previous day, and you just stayed that way for a solid 5 minutes until miguel came into the kitchen and saw you in a thinking position—as if you were 'the thinker' statue but in such snug yoga pants and an oversized shirt that was most likely miguel's.

"what's wrong?" he asked you as he went over to get a glass of water. you sighed and took the ice cream container and looked up at him with a crestfallen expression already strewn on your face. "...what's in this?" you asked him all softly as he looked at the container then back at you with a perplexed expression. "ice cream." he told you with a shrug. "are you sure?" you asked him with a harder tone, not wanting to get your hopes up that your treat was actually in there. "yeah? why?" miguel asked you as he took a sip of water. you sighed and tried to stop yourself from smiling. "well, i need you to be sure, because the immeasurable amount of disappointment i'll get if i open this and there's actually some chicken adobo, or sinigang, or bulalo in here, i'll..." you trailed off as miguel chuckled slightly, nearly choking on his water. he set his glass down and opened it for you, and lo and behold, your favorite ice cream was right there in front of you.

you exclaimed in happiness and surprise, your smile reaching from ear to ear as miguel handed you a big spoon for you to enjoy the frozen treat with. "i'd never trick you like that, cariño, what gave you that thought, though?" he asked you as you happily ate the ice cream up, feeling so rewarded and happy that your lunch nor your dinner was in the container. "my childhood gave me that thought." you said in a rushed voice as you gobbled down spoon after spoon of ice cream scoops, with miguel rubbing the ice cream that got on your face off you with the pad of his thumb. "sounds rough." he said with a chuckle as you spoon fed him a scoop and giggled. "you can never be too sure, y'know; i might just do that to you, miggy..." you teased him as he chuckled and nuzzled his face against your hair, pleading you in a sarcastic voice not to do it, not to tease him like that all cruelly.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[mistressoftheelderitchwhorehouse]

As I was taking down my braids I began to wonder how different BSD characters would react after seeing your natural hair. Can I ask for headcanons about that? IDC what characters as long as Dazai is there.

(Unrelated but kinda related but it makes me think of how there are so many things that are just commonplace in my culture that I wouldn't think twice about. But those who aren't of said culture who would find the things I do as new and intriguing. Humanity is very fascinating. Sorry for getting philosophical. I just like to think a lot)

Deadass the different culture things is always so fun. Like I explain things about my own curly hair to my white friends all the time, and when they tell me what is and isn't acceptable in their culture with their straight hair? It's interesting.

Anyway! Here we goooooo~~

______________________________

Hair and Coffee

Dazai flipped over in his futon, half expecting to flop onto another human being, only to feel cold blankets. He groaned and continued rolling until he was on the tatami mat instead of the futon. After almost six months of sleeping with another person, his futon felt strangely big when he was alone.

"Belladonna?"

"Kitchen, Dummy."

With some effort he stumbled to his feet, and went out to the kitchen. The coffee maker gurgled, but Dazai couldn't smell the tell tale dark roast that he kept on hand. Instead, he smelled something fruity and creamy. His thoughts immediately jumped to you, as he swore you always smelled like a sorbet stand.

"Down here."

Lo and behold there you were on the kitchen floor.

You were surrounded by different bottles that were slick with the left overs from your hands. Half your hair was clipped out of your face, while the rest was in your hands while you ran a wide tooth comb through it.

It wasn't often that Dazai got to see your hair outside of twists. You said it was a protective style, especially against the salt of the ocean that constantly beat against Yokohama.

How interesting.

Dazai leaned against the counter with a raised eyebrow. "Comfy?"

"Yes, actually." You tilted your head up to look at him. "Coffee's gonna be ready soon. Could you pour me some too?"

"I could."

"Dazai c'mon, please?"

"Well if you beg that nicely."

He moved around the counter, and knelt down to your level. You raised an eyebrow, and he could feel discomfort radiating off you. Even your work on your hair had stopped, and yet you gripped the comb so tight he could he the plastic creak.

He shook his head before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, that discomfort seemed to have melted a bit.

Good.

He stood up and went to grab the coffee mugs. "Sugar?"

"You know it."

Shower Me in Love

Chuuya twisted the water on, before holding his hand under the cascading water. When it no longer singed his hands, he began to strip out of his clothes.

"Shower's on!"

"Coming!"

By the time he heard you walk into the bathroom, Chuuya had already stripped and was standing under the showers spray. Suds went down the drain while he rinsed out his hair.

"Took you long enough. Was about to get in the bath."

"Sorry! I had to take down my hair."

You finally stepped into the shower beside him, and he was surprised to find your hair had become a puff of tight, black curls. Chuuya knew your hair naturally curled like that, but he rarely saw it outside your braids.

He grinned as you reached out for your hair product. "Wash day for you too?"

"Yes and it's the worst! My deep conditioner didn't ship, but I'm tired of having dirty hair. Knew I should have just gotten the other one."

"They couldn't express ship?"

"I mean yeah, but-"

"If it's expensive charge it to my card." Chuuya said. "Your hair's too pretty to fuck it up on shitty products."

Your eyes widened a bit, before you bumped him with your hip. "Hush!"

He allowed himself to sway from your "violence" as he snickered at your bashful expression. "So fucking pretty."

A New Side

Atsushi hurried up the steps two at a time, humming along to the song that had been playing at the supermarket. When he finally got to your door number, he straightened up a bit, and knocked on the door.

"It's open, Atsushi!"

He opened the door, and toed out off his shoes. "I'm back, Darling! They didn't have olive oil, but they did have the coconut oil."

He went to your living room, and found you in the same spot that you were in half an hour ago. Your legs were under you, bottles of colorful creams were on the coffee table, and you had a comb in hand.

Now, however, your many bantu knots had been taken down in exchange for the puffs of tight curls that you were combing.

You looked up from the show you were watching on your phone with a smile. "Thanks! Can you set it on the table for me? I'll need it in a bit."

He did as instructed, his gaze never quite leaving your hair. He had learned a lot about you in the past two months. He knew you needed caffeine in the morning, and that you hated washing dishes, amd that he should get you flowers if you cried after an argument between you both. However, this ritual was new to him.

As he watched your hair do things his couldn’t, he was once more reminded how different the two of you were.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hm?"

He gestured to his own hair. "When you pull on it like that, does it hurt?"

"It can if you're not careful."

He watched you continue the movement. Careful, calculated pull of the comb through thick curls. Every so often you would stop, and add one of the creams or coconut oil to your hair, before running the comb through your hair once more.

After almost an hour of that, you paused and rolled your wrists til they popped.

Atsushi reached out, and gently took your hand. You tilted your head, but he didn't answer as he brought your wrist to his lips. You sighed and leaned your head back, eyes shut and a smile on your face.

"You're so sweet, Stripes."

Atsushi kept his lips over your pulse. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life. Thank you for showing me another side of you."

You smiled and kissed his temple. "Thank you for accepting me for me."

Fin