#she keeps all of her memories of her life as a human locked away in a dark mineshaft

[angsty-prompt-hole]

Me, describing Haven’s inner mindscape: Oh this baby can fit so much strange, weird seemingly meaningless shit

[forever--darling]

one of us | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: when a person's life hangs in the balance, sometimes there is only one thing to do, one thing to ask of the great mother. a consciousness transfer, but the question remains: are you strong enough to pass through the eye of eywa? lots of feelings emerge as the only option left becomes the sole possibility

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 11.8k

warnings/notes: finally, swearing, major angst, mention of sky people, mention of death, mention of an afterlife, lots of feelings (all mostly sad), crying, more heartbreak, with sad fluff, we're so close to the end (2/3)

series masterlist | one of us: part seven | requests are currently open for now

All energy is only borrowed, never permanent, and one day you have to give it back.

It hadn’t taken long for Neytiri and Jake to make it to the camp, the pathway completely imprinted in his memory. He couldn’t talk the whole ride as the only thought that seemed to reach his mind was a suffocating amount of guilt. The same guilt that once had rotted away in his stomach years ago when he was still a dream walker, when the sky people had long since invaded Pandora, and when he was still working under Quaritch’s terms.

That guilt almost killed him when he gained the trust of the Omatikaya people. When Home Tree was destroyed, Grace was killed, and the great war brought many warriors home to their Great Mother. Not many were sparred and those that had looked to him for the answers, the mighty Toruk Makto. It wasn’t easy and often it took guidance from many to get him to where he was today but now here he was in that forest, that same perilous feeling overtaking his senses. 

He had known you were sick, not the full extent of it or how long it had been going on but he knew. Which meant as an adult, who had been watching over you, he was partly responsible. Responsible for the outcome of your life, the effect it had on his children, on his son, on his wife, on the people. He had let other commitments cloud his mind; the sky people, the new technology they were bringing back to the planet, and how they were getting closer to the village every day. He decided to focus on those things rather than checking in on you. Whatever happened he was partly responsible. As they stopped near the lab, the grey confines of it taunting him, he also knew where he was responsible, Max and Norm were too — if not more. 

Jake slid off of the direhorse, Neytiri behind him as he approached the large steel door coated in scratches and dents — it somehow stood in this environment and within these elements. Neytiri stiffened at the sight of it, every part of her screaming to rush back into the forest away from the very place she deemed as evil and foreign. She had no motivation to step foot into the metal box but the thought of you, the real you left her heart clenching in her chest.

Worry was the sole reason why she followed her husband, clinging to his back. It was that along with the fact that Jake would need someone to keep him grounded. As he stared at it, the cage it had become, he felt all of his frustration come to the surface as the terrified thought crossed his mind that you were dead. Raising his clenched fist to the door, he knocked, the loud sound echoing across the trees. 

The first compacted door opened and they moved inside. Neytiri felt her anxieties heighten as they stepped fully into a small compressing box. Jake stared forward through the glass of the second door, gaze locked on a human man standing in a white lab coat near the keypad for the door. He was so small, so weak, so angering. As the air decompressed in the box, the scientist clicked the keypad and the second door slid open.

Jake didn’t waste a moment. He stalked in there as if he owned the place. It felt so strange under his large blue feet after having once rolled across these tiled floors. The sight of the lab brought so many memories back to him; the link pods, the screens — so many memories, most of which he didn’t find comforting. 

Max appeared on the other side of the room in his own lab coat, a worried kink in his brow. At the sight of him, Jake snarled not afraid to use his intimidating statue as he walked across the room, “Where is she?” 

The demand was sharp, cold, and uncommon to be directed at Max, as he was one of Jake’s closest confidants for almost twenty years. Max blinked in surprise up at the Olo’eyktan, and at the sight of Jake in this space, he got his own flashbacks of the first day. The first day, all those years ago that Jake got his avatar. Oh, how things had changed since then. 

“Where is she?” he asked again, tone just as cold as it was before.

“She’s in the back room, but—” 

The two Na’vi’s pushed by Max, bending down as they moved through the doorway into a smaller more compact hallway. Max hurried after them in a state of panic as Jake refused to shut his mouth, all of his fears taking flight in ugly ways.

“What, you think I wouldn’t have realized what was going on? In case you have forgotten this isn’t my first rodeo. I used to do this and an avatar doesn’t just collapse like that unless a link process is interrupted or something is fucking wrong. So, tell me what the fuck happened!” 

The room opened up in front of them with a single curtain pulled over the area to provide more privacy. Jake could see the outline of Norm’s body behind the curtain bent down and saying something. Max unable to fully find the words to calm Jake down or provide an explanation other than the truth, plucked the blue curtain into his grasp and pulled it aside.

Norm’s head snapped up in their direction, his eyes widening slightly at the site of the two tall Na’vi within the lab. He was wrapping a blanket around your exhausted frame and as the couple’s eyes fell down to the wrangled weak body, both of their shoulders dropped in devastation. The harsh furrow in Jake’s brow fell away and he found himself gripping onto the doorway to stay upright. The sight of you brought an image of Grace in her final hours to the forefront of his mind and it was difficult to swallow.

You sat, your body stuck to the mattress, slumped down as if you couldn’t even sit up. Two or three blankets were pulled up to your chest where wires stuck out connecting to monitors nearby. Jake's ears flickered at the sound of their beeping and found that the numbers of your heart rate and blood pressure should have been stronger.

IVS were hanging up beside you, the large needle lined into your arm. Your skin was ashen, sunken in, all color completely drained with large purple circles pressed along the skin below your eyes. They were barely open and he wouldn’t have believed you were actually alive if it wasn’t for the twitch in your bony finger and the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. 

“She had a seizure while in the link pod. We were able to get them to stop but she is very weak,” Norm answered and stepped back from your crumbled form. One that felt less like you every day. 

“Oh, Great Mother,” Neytiri found herself crying as she moved forward and fell to her knees at the side of the bed. 

She wished to be anywhere but there, but the sight of you had masked all of the discomfort and the rage that was interlaced deep within her bones. Instead, all she could feel was the ache in her chest from the broken looks of her children at your avatar form that had been completely motionless in her son’s arms. She felt herself aching for the soul that was slipping through the fingers of Pandora. Her eyes took in the unfamiliar but familiar face and cried, tears welling up in her widened eyes. She found herself scanning your nose, your closed eyes, the high lift of your cheeks, and the shape of your jaw. It was you, without a doubt. 

Jake was able to find his voice again, this time with a newly added edge to it, “Why was she in the link pod in the first place?” 

“What?” Norm’s eyes narrowed in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why was she in there?” Jake was becoming hostile at that point. “If you knew she was sick, if you knew it was this bad, how could you let her keep doing this? Especially with the strain that it already was putting on her weak body.”

“Ma’Jake, please,” Neytiri asked, her voice gently sweeping through the tension of the room, gaining the attention of his rigid eyes. She tilted her head towards you, and they all watched as your head lulled from side to side at the many voices that filled the room. Your breaths were shallow, taking up too much energy that you couldn’t even open your eyes. 

Jake lowered his voice slightly but the edge remained as he glanced back and forth from Norm to Max, “You should have stopped her.” 

“You don’t think we tried? You don’t think we didn’t say something to her every day, warning her of the risks, demanding her to stop?” Max became defensive then as he stepped closer to the towering figure of one of his closest friends. His eyes narrowed, the same worry that filled Jake’s, reflected in his own. “She is not a child anymore.” 

“You mean she’s not your child,” the Olo’eyktan corrected and just like that, all previous feelings were ripped from the room, leaving it in painful silence. 

Both Max and Norm’s heads dropped for a moment as a thought crossed their mind — maybe they hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe they should have powered down the system even if you ended up hating them. Maybe they should have done more to protect you even when you were never their child, their full responsibility to bear. Maybe just maybe even though you grew up before their eyes into a grown woman, they should have taken into account that it didn’t mean to cut you loose from support and guardianship altogether. 

Max shook his head, almost as if he was going to regret what he was about to say, “No, she’s not.” 

“She may not be yours or technically a kid anymore but when she is living under your roof, you need to have some responsibility. When she is living under your roof, she is still a child,” Jake sighed, feeling the anger start to dissipate as he sent another glance at you, at your human body. At the very body, he hadn’t seen in almost two years, not like this, not this small, this different. You had grown and would be nineteen in the next year and it showed — you had become an adult under everyone's noses. If only you had the ability and the time to make it. “How much time does she have?” 

“We can’t know for sure but based on her state and how weak she is… Weeks? A month or two maybe?” Norm admitted, the state of how he found you in the link pod still pressed firmly into the front of his mind. Your faraway gaze, rigid body, and trembling lips. Your lips shook as if you were asking for time to kiss you and grant you treatment. You were barely there and laying in that damn bed, you were barely there. 

“She doesn’t have a few months, not with the sky people invading. We could have serious trouble on our hands in two months. The sky people are coming, they are getting closer every day and I need a plan. A plan to protect my family, my people, and my land. I need a plan and I am not going to put a sick young woman in the line of fire. I won’t.”

Jake shook his head and stepped further into the room, looking around at the medical supplies and the neutral-colored walls. The sterile smell filled his nose. It all reminded him of the V.A. hospital when there was a big hole blown through the middle of his life. That’s what the lab reminded him of and it sent a shiver down his spine. You couldn't stay there, not like this. He wouldn’t allow it because whatever the fuck they were doing wasn’t doing shit. Even with medicine and science on their side, it had done nothing. He wasn’t about to lose another person because of his actions — he wouldn’t. 

“She can’t stay here,” he suddenly said, eyes set on his wife, “We can’t leave her here. I won’t.” 

Max stepped forward trying to get closer to you but Neytiri stood blocking him, “Jake, you can’t just—”

“You’ve done enough.” 

The two scientists’ mouths dropped, and both of their glares widened at the tall Olo’eyktan — a man who day one had never thrown caution to the wind in his life but since becoming a leader had taken on a new role to be deliberate in his actions, think accordingly, and communicate in a way to not piss other people off. It was like that persona was gone from that room for a moment and instead it was an overprotective parent who thought they had all the answers. He was bossy, haywire, and everything that resembled a father.

Somehow his cold tone and his rapid decision weren’t justifiable enough for Max. He had seen the impossible, and as a scientist, he had detested and forced himself to not believe it. Max had seen the impossible in Jake, in the consciousness transfer, in the balance of the world that had managed to change one man's life. He had seen the impossible with the Omatikaya people but at that moment with your life hanging in that very balance, he could only look to science, in the concreteness that was medicine.

“Jake, listen to me, she is sick. This isn’t just another dress-up game where she is going to run off into the forest to become something else. She won’t survive this.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” he snapped, eyes narrowing even further until they resembled golden crescents like the morning sun that crept through their tent every morning, “This has never been a game and you know that. To me, it wasn't and it sure as hell isn't to her. If you saw her out there, the way she is when she is in that body, you would know that. Except that I think a part of you already does, knows how much she wants it, and that scares the hell out of you. Especially since there is nothing else you can do for her, and it sucks. It really does... but do you hear me when I say we can do something? The people can save her.” 

“What like you saved Grace,” Max shot back, the words cruel and unnecessary and he watched as Jake’s face went slack. For a moment the short scientist reveled in the image, “I know it has happened, the unexplainable. Because what you witnessed... what happened to you was the unexplainable, but Jake that's what? A one in a million. You're the exception, we all know that, but she's not you. I don't like the odds, not when I have seen it. Her virus, her illness, and I am deciding to combat it with medicine. I am choosing science’s side.” 

Neytiri felt her teeth bare, sink into her lower lip, fangs glimmering from the white lights of the room. As a growl left her throat, she stepped forward protectively towards her mate, “And your medicine has done nothing. It’s done nothing!” 

At that point with two pointed gazes locked down on him, Max couldn’t help but glance your way knowing that every word they spoke was true. Any worse, you could be slipping away, out of their fingers, by the end of the week. If you hadn’t been getting better with the months of treatment they had been doing, the antibiotic and the fluids, what else could they do to help you? There wasn’t another option, and he knew right then science or not this was your last chance.

Norm looked from you to Jake and within that mutual stare, they shared an understanding, a silent understanding. Stepping forward, his palm fell to Max’s shoulder, “This is her only chance."

"Norm—"

"She’s not going to get better because she hasn't yet and you know that. This is her last chance. And yes, god forbid, Eywa forbid that it doesn’t work, that we somehow lose her... at least it will be on her own terms and in a place, she’d want to spend her last moments.” 

The words everyone had been avoiding were out in the air and it struck a chord, one that left them all in silence and complete denial. Only, because no one expected this. When you had been given your avatar six months prior, no one thought to think this is where you would end up, chained to a bed with the only thing to save you being that body. No one thought either that you would have fallen in love with the forest, the people, and the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan either, but you did. It happened. It all had happened and now it was beginning to unravel in front of them and suddenly they were being faced with a choice.

You were dying and the sky people were coming. Another war was soon to take place and Jake and Neytiri were making plans for the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam would be Olo'eyktan one day whether you would be there to see it or not. It all was happening and none of them would have thought that when it was, you would be in the middle of a whispered conversation with the Mother herself.

Max wiped his eyes from behind his glasses and sent one last longing look to you. You once had been the little girl who'd sit on his lap for hours staring at a digital image of an avatar's brain with complete awe. Now there you lay, all grown up and possibly about to get the life you had always wanted. Your choice had been made up about the life you wanted as soon as you had entered that avatar body. And your choice would be his choice.

“Just, if you’re going to do it… The consciousness transfer, do it sooner rather than later. If you want her to survive it, you will do it as soon as you can. She's already lost a lot of energy.” 

It was the last thing anyone said and as Jake nodded to Max, reassuringly, his tough-guy act dropped immediately. Almost like they had come to a mutual understanding: one father to another.

From that moment on, there was a continuous movement of people in and out of the room. All bustling as they worked to disconnect your monitors, pull out the IVS, wrap your body up in blankets to keep you warm against the cold air, and secure a mask tightly over your face. Then just like that, you were ready and leaving as if it was always how it was destined to be. You, leaving. Norm and Max each took you in for one last time as Jake and Neytiri exited the lab, both hoping they would never have to be there again.

Jake couldn’t help but stare down at you, so small in his arms, so unlike the warrior he had gotten the privilege to watch the last six months. You had transformed just as he once had, gaining the wings like an Ikran, and you would fly away, not daring to look back. Evident in the lingering glances you sent his son and how you absorbed every part of the forest, you would give anything to be transferred into your other body. Then more so as with each night you spent in the forest, in your avatar body, the longer you would stay awake. Like you were hoping to forever prolong the linking process to that one still moment in time. Now, after all this time, you could have it.

As Jake climbed on his direhorse, he heard the shift in your breath along with seeing the small tremble in your body — the first sign of movement he had seen at all. Glancing down at you again, he found your eyes softly staring up at him, through heavy lids. He glanced at Neytiri then back down at you, taking your tiny cold hand in his own. He stared at his five fingers and compared them to yours as your soft voice filled his ears. 

“Don’t let Neteyam see me like this.” 

“She’s very weak,” Mo’at expressed, honestly as her fingers danced across your closed eyes.

From the moment you were brought back to the village, in your human form, it was like you were finally awake. Finally, seeing the world as more than a recurrent fever dream. It was a world you had only ever witnessed through another pair of eyes and someone else's skin. Somehow the forest had become so much more than a training ground to you over that time. However, you realized then, that no matter how many times you had seen it before, it would never top being able to see it with your own eyes. The ones you had been born with.

It was a dream that had been painted on your soul from the moment you had come onto this planet and as you stared up at the luminescent green foliage while you rode on the back of the direhorse, you felt as if your life was complete. Like Eywa was watching over you, reaching out her arms and promising you that whatever happened you would be okay.

Staring up past the trees to the black-coated sky littered with stars and planets, you felt a new kind of peace wash over you. Your breath had evened out and you blinked slowly, entirely entranced by the skyline scattered with constellations. The constellations that resembled the ivory spots speckled across his nose and his body. That's all you could think about — the ivory-speckled sky and how it reminded you of the glow that would overtake him at night.

Please, Great Mother, protect Neteyam and his ivory-scattered face. 

As soon as you got back, Neytiri distracted the kids, allowing Jake to get you to Mo’at without anyone seeing. Partly to prevent panic from appearing in the village, but mostly to stick to your one and only request. Don’t let Neteyam see me like this. Those six words served as a confirmation to Jake. A confirmation that once again only served the greater suspicion that there was more going on under the surface. Deeper feelings were involved here whether the two of you had admitted it, and Jake wasn't sure how he hadn't seen it before. But maybe he had.

The lingering gazes. The light touches. Neteyam sneaking out of the tent at night, for months. His attitude suddenly improving. He was always cautious around you when Jake was close by as if he was afraid of the Olo'eyktan connecting the dots from the softness he displayed to you or the look in his eyes, which was less than innocent. It all had been there but for months, Jake Sully had been turning a blind eye to it all. Despite his duty as Olo'eyktan to accept the arranged marriage that would be pushed onto his son along with all the other responsibilities, he let the interactions and the feelings play out in plain sight.

Now, he was going to willingly do what any Olo'eyktan would and protect the last wishes of a member of his clan. He was making a split decision based on the six words he never thought you would have openly admitted. That it was and always had been Neteyam for you. How it was the one son of his that had been promised a throne and a chosen future mate, the one son you couldn't have willingly. Somehow it filled him with a sense of deja vu, as if when he saw you he was looking at a mere reflection of the person he used to be. Alongside that, a repeated history. The outsider and the chief's chosen child. Somehow under all of his turning a blind eye, you and Neteyam had not only become Jake and Neytiri but were being torn apart for it.

For a while, Jake stood in the corner of the room, Neytiri appearing after a while closing off the tent from any onlookers. The majority who would have been her own children. She stood next to Jake, her hand comfortingly finding a place on his shoulder.

They had watched as Mo'at closed her eyes and let the feelings of Eywa guide her. She took in many deep breaths as mumbled words escaped her mouth in the form of tongues. Then just as quickly as it had begun, her eyes were reopening, leaving her meeting with Eywa as Jake liked to call it. She glanced at the couple before her and spouted what he could only hear as bullshit. She’s very weak. 

“Well help her goddamn it!” 

“Jake!” Neytiri hissed as the tone of his voice emitted not only a glare on her face but a chip in her tone. 

From outside the tent, four dark statues lingered in the dark, near the side of the healing tent. Light poured out of the bottom bathing Kiri and Lo’ak’s faces in slivers of warm light. They lay on their fronts, chins leaning along their hands as they held their breaths, desperate to unravel what they were looking at. They could only see the outline of their grandmother, the Tsahik’s side from the confined view they had. With Spider and Tuk sitting on the other side of Lo'ak, the eight-year-old hugged her knees to her chest in a state of confusion. When her parents left, she had spent the whole time berating her older siblings with questions about you — were you okay? What had exactly happened? Were you coming back?

All questions with answers none of the older siblings had.

Neteyam crouched on the other side of Kiri, leaning his ear close to the side of the tent, trying to understand the mumblings from inside. His heart had shattered and he felt as if he had been cut open, exposing everything he was feeling to the gaping air. It made his stomach twist at the thought and he was starting to feel sick.

The sight of your avatar collapsing in his arms was still very present in his mind — as well as how his father had avoided him the second he returned forbidding anyone from seeing you, the other you. Your human body and the current body that held everything that made you, you. It was hard to imagine you any other way. For six straight months, he was memorizing every detail of your blue features just in case his golden irises would be deracinated from his face. Now all he could think about was what you really looked like, what you were born to look like.

Lo’ak leaned closer to his sister, voice breaking and coming out in low mumbles, “What did she say?” 

“Shh,” she hushed back, bumping her brother in the side, harsher than she intended too. 

“She’s weak, that’s what Mo’at is saying,” Neteyam spoke up softly, the words acting as needles as they ripped holes into his skin, “She doesn’t know if they can save her.” 

Kiri glanced up at Neteyam and felt her shoulders drop disappointedly as his expression came to light for her. How pain-stricken he was and how utterly shattered his voice sounded as it echoed in her ears. She felt Eywa there at that moment, filling her entire body, as she witnessed firsthand how strongly her brother felt for you. It had blinded him out of nowhere and a pit formed in his stomach at how sudden it all was. Over time, that dread and that fear had drifted off into the wind as if they had rolled off his back while flying through the sky.

Then there was you. How you had become a slight wreck over your feelings for the future Olo'eyktan. She could still feel your own confession lingering in the back of her mind. How shy you had gotten, how ashamed you had been when she had found out you liked Neteyam, possibly loved him.

Somehow under all of the excruciating lectures, stubborn-filled disputes, and contemptuous glares, two souls had found one another, deep within the forest under the phosphorescent green of the trees. 

She blinked and looked away, letting the prospect of the two of you fade away, leaving nothing but an imprint of dust in its wake. They all instead directed their attention back to the tent, ears twitching in unison and tails swishing anxiously as their father’s voice filled the air. 

“She’s dying, don’t you see that? One of our own is dying,” Jake pleaded then, his anger melted away like icicles in the warm temperature and all that was left was a puddle of desperation and fear. “So, please help her. Do the consciousness transfer. Do it, if it means the possibility of saving her life."

As Mo’at glanced down from your shivering human form to the empty blue vessel beside you, she knew what he was asking of her. He was right and it would have to be in Eywa’s hands now. The very hands you had tried to get yourself in weeks ago when you appeared in the doorway of her tent pleading and begging for her to consider. To think about your request, ask Eywa to guide you and herself to an answer. Tsahik, without much consideration or even listening to Eywa's plan or will, denied your request. Even when Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, had once come to her with the same request, and even when she saw so much of him in you, including a strong heart, she denied the request.

When Mo’at looked at you, she saw a young woman. A young woman with all the reasons and desires in the world to ask for this request and to ask for the opportunity to change her life. Your soul's existence depended on the opportunity to live life fully as a Na’vi, and That’s why Tsahik couldn’t accept it. Your whole life.

A young and prestigious life she didn’t want to be cut short not when there was still so much time. She feared that Eywa’s will wouldn’t be what was hoped by the rest of the clan, her family, so she denied you. For fear of taking the light out of your eyes as well as the light out of her grandchildren. 

“She’s weak so we must do it tonight. The more strength she has the better,” she finally spoke looking from Jake to her dutiful daughter, “Alert the village. We need everyone, do you understand? We need all the support we can for this. An hour and then we go.” 

The couple, the clan's leaders, the two everyone looked to in a crisis felt the weight on their shoulders deepen. Anxiety formed, pushing down on their tracheas as it all began to feel too real too fast. But panic couldn't happen. Freaking out couldn't happen. There wasn't enough time for it and there sure as hell wasn't room for it.

Jake took Neytiri’s hand in his and walked towards the entrance of the tent, all strength, and will of his own feelings lost. As they stepped out, the tent's flap falling shut behind them, a rush of air fell from his mouth. Neytiri, able to feel his energy deep within her bones, wrapped her arms around his broad torso. Her chin found a place against his shoulder and they stared forward at the rest of the village, the forest, their home, and everything in between. They listened to one another’s hearts and stood there for a brief moment, letting their breaths linger into one before Neytiri unwrapped herself around him. 

As she did, they both were startled by the sound of rustling as well as a soft groan of a very familiar prominent voice. They shared a look with one another, communicating the same conclusion as they stepped around the tent to where the sound had come from. It wasn't a surprise to find their four children squatted and laying around in the dirt, ears pressed close to the tent. Suddenly all their movements stopped as they felt the shadows looming over them, blocking the moonlight and concealing them in darkness.

All four heads then tilted cautiously and were met by the scariness of their mother, who stood with a hip popped out and arms crossed over her chest. Her stare only hardened further when she found her youngest, no more than eight years old, sitting there, a pained expression on the child's face. Neytiri looked over her shoulder at Jake but he merely shrugged as if he wasn't surprised at all by the sight in front of him. He held his arms to her; a silent signal that he was leaving the situation for her to handle.

Inhaling, her lips parted, ready to scold them not only for eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for their ears but for letting Tuk hear every word, something she could barely process at her age. Before Neytiri could get a word out, she found her youngest staring up at her, large eyes widened with fear and sadness, bottom lip quivering.

Tuk’s eyes filled with tears and slowly began to fall, drenching her innocent face, “Is Y/N going to be okay? What happened to her?” 

The other three older siblings’ bodies stiffened unwillingly, ears dropping back while their own theories and assumptions were formed. But even with their thoughts and concerns, they all found themselves peering up to their mother, who seemed to be all-knowing and often had the right thing to say in moments like this. It was a mother's intuition and they all stared at her, asking for an answer that was far better than any of their own. They all held their breath as they watched the glare melt away completely from her face while she opened her arms welcomingly for her youngest child. 

“Oh, my prrnen (baby),” Neytiri cooed as Tuk reached up to be pulled up into her mother's arms. As her small innocent face met her mother's neck, her tear bubbles collapsed, letting her salty tears fall freely upon Neytiri's skin. “Know this, that whatever happens, Y/N will be okay. She will be at peace one way or another. I don't know what's going to happen, but that is not something for us to worry about right now. Our Great Mother has a plan and whatever comes of it, everything will be okay. Do you understand me, maite (my daughter)?” 

Hands rubbing softly at Tuk’s back, her gaze fell to the rest of her children and their anxious eyes. They looked to her as if a mother could solve the world’s most significant problems and she wished at that moment she could. She wished she could take all of your pain, all of your sickness, all of the limitations your body held away. She wanted more than anything with her children’s eyes boring up at her that she could promise you life to prevent their suffering.

“The ritual is in an hour,” Jake said then, gaining the three older children’s attention as he tried to wrap his head around how he wanted to handle this situation. He couldn’t bear the idea of them being at the consciousness transfer and watching with the possibility that it wouldn't work. He couldn’t watch every hope and every fiber of light in their bodies fade away at the sight of what could be a final send-off. “Whatever you need to do, I suggest you do it now because there is a chance you won't be able to later.” 

“Can we see her?” Kiri asked then, sitting up to hug her knees to her chest, voice pleading, “Please? Can we just sit with her and talk to her. Dad, I can’t go the ritual without having said—” 

“Fine,” he interrupted her, his heart constricting with grief at the sound of his daughter’s broken voice, “Fine, yes, you can see her. But none of you will be at the ritual. Do you read me? I don’t want you attending the transfer.” 

In perfect sync all of their eyes widened in shock, ears pulling back in dejection as their father's command fell straight into their laps. Lo’ak sat up quickly, in complete disbelief, “But—” 

“No, but anything. I don’t want any of you there, do you understand?” 

That edge had returned in his voice and Jake took two seconds each to drill his gaze into his children, trying to make it stick within their minds, so that no matter how many times the thought appeared to go against his words, the remembrance of his stone cold glare would stop them. He couldn't be sure that it would work, especially as he caught the look on Lo'ak's face. It was the same look he gave whenever he was given orders or asked to do something against his own troublesome consciousness. It was passive, him nodding his head as if he was listening though he never took anything serious his father said. It was the same exact look Jake was getting then.

“Do — you — understand?” 

He spoke slower and finally got the response he wanted. All three of his older children nodded their heads while Lo’ak verbally respond with, “Yes, sir.” 

Neteyam could only stare up past Jake, huffing quietly. It was loud enough to catch his father’s attention anyway. Jake narrowed his gaze down at his oldest but the young warrior wouldn't falter. Instead, Neteyam matched him with the same expression.

No gunmetal would warp at that moment as Neteyam felt every inch of anger and frustration ball together. The order for them to stay away during the ceremony left him astonished and pissed off. His father still saw them as children and felt like he had this responsibility to protect them. But other than Tuk, none of them needed his protection. They had grown up and that was something he obviously couldn't accept.

Somehow it only filled Neteyam with more spite because there was nothing left that needed to be protected. Every innocence had been stolen and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been treated like a child, free of any responsibilities. For years he had been viewed and trained like a serviceman, kept on a shelf until he was needed. His whole life he had been ordered around; Go pick up an extra couple of hours of training. Watch over your brother. Learn how to use a gun. Take on extra challenges with other warriors. Heck, marry and mate with a woman of our choosing.

They had every part of him. They had taken every piece of him and he had willingly let them. For years he had been ordered around as if he was incapable of thinking for himself. In reality, they couldn't afford him to think and make decisions for themselves because it would go against what was best for the clan.

Some things never changed though. He stood just outside the healing tent, where the Tsahik was trying to save the only woman he has ever had feelings for, and he was expected to follow commands again. He was supposed to let them put him back on the shelf and wait for further instructions. Your life was hanging in the balance and they were asking him to be absent from the ritual that would decide what would happen. He couldn’t do that.

His hard-set gaze met Jake’s, refusing to back down. He watched then as the Toruk Makto dismissed him and instead sent one more look to each of his children. He nodded in the direction of the healing tent, “Go on.” 

One by one, they all stood silently and began to approach the tent, with dread being the only thing evidently strewn across their faces. Neytiri slowly set Tuk down, wiping what was left of her tears, that motherly smile occupying her face as she watched the rest of her children approach the tent. As Neteyam stepped by them though, the thought of you the only thing guiding him forward, Jake’s eyes found Neytiri’s. She hadn’t seemed to understand what he was trying to say, but she turned to give him her full attention anyway at the obnoxious way he cleared his throat. 

Her ears flickered curiously then as his stare frantically began to flicker back and from their oldest son to her. Lo’ak and Spider had stepped into the tent with Tuk waiting by the doorway, clearly contemplating if she wanted to go inside herself. Neytiri then found herself looking at Neteyam who was getting close to the entrance. She felt the thought kick in at what Jake was referring to or rather what you had asked of him. Him was the key term, but Neytiri felt her brows draw forward on her forehead in exasperation at his clear hesitation. The Toruk Makto had no problem lecturing his sons until their ears bled but being able to break the worst news and offer comfort to them might as well have been foreign, especially in their older years. He was terrified of it and Neytiri found it utterly ridiculous.

As Jake didn’t show any signs of calling out to Neteyam, she huffed out and shook her head at her husband, narrowing her gaze at him. The words very bad were communicated vexingly through her eye contact. She sighed then as she called out to Neteyam, “Maitan (my son)!”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of his mother’s voice and just as his hand grasped around the tent flap, so close to where you were, he pulled back to face her. She waved him over, and with frustration and confusion, he stepped away from the tent. Kiri, who was just about to enter, noticed the interaction of their mother pulling him aside and decided to wait, in favor of watching the conversation play out instead.

“What?” Neteyam questioned, the sharpness of his tongue not unnoticed.

Neytiri’s initial reaction was to smack him upside the head for it, but she held back knowing the sharpness was nothing but a reflection of how he was feeling. He wasn’t trying to be difficult or disrespectful. He just didn't have the energy or the care anymore to be any other way.

Neytir's gaze softened, the same one she had spared moments ago as she clutched her youngest in her arms. Neteyam noticed it right away, the look she was giving him. He would never admit it, but he knew his mother better than the rest of his siblings, and at the sight of her eyebrows drawing together softly, he felt his stomach drop. The lines between them displayed feelings of stress and disappointment. She wore it across her face — how badly she wished to offer him the moon and the stars. 

As her hand reached for his shoulder, that’s when he figured it out for sure. Why she had stopped him from entering, her shared looks with Jake, the way she was trying to steer him from the tent. It all made sense and a low growl took everyone by surprise as he peered over his shoulder at Kiri and the opening of the tent.

When he looked back at his mother, he felt his fists clench at his sides, “She doesn't want to see me. That's what you are going to tell me, aren't you? You pulled me aside because she told you she doesn't want to see me. ” 

“Yes,” Neytiri admitted slowly. 

A pin dropped and within a beat of time, as if only a second had passed, Neteyam resurfaced but angrier and more annoyed than before. He stepped back out of her grasp, and her hand was left dangling in the air as his tail whipped back and forth aggressively.

“No. Fuck that!"

“Neteyam!” she hissed, taking a hold of his arm and yanking him back despite his best efforts to escape her. He didn’t dare overpower his mother though or do anything that would disrespect her. Instead, he let her hold his arm too tightly, while her glare drilled holes into the side of his head.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish more than anything that it didn’t, but who would we be if we denied her wishes.” 

Her wishes. 

She spoke as if you were already dead and he felt himself tense under her words, his entire body becoming rigid. He closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to breathe through the pang in his chest. To calm himself down, he held his breath deep within his lungs for almost a minute before he released it. When he did, he felt the heartbreak creep up within his body until it was past his throat and on the tip of his tongue. Then he broke right in front of her.

“Her wishes? Do you even hear yourself right now, sa’nok (mother)? You're acting as if she has already died and is with Eywa. How can you just... No, damn her wishes because if there is a chance that I could lose her I am not going to stand out here and let her... I can’t just stand here and let her go into that ritual without telling her how I feel.” 

“It was not my choice, ma‘eveng (my child),” she whispered cooly, as Neteyam was starting to appear frantic.

The choice isn’t mine to bear.

He clenched his eyes shut again, suddenly stained with the memory of you standing within the mauve tendrils, beautiful face barring every raw emotion of your soul to him. Tears suspended in your eyes for a second as he felt every possible pain rip open in his chest, a pain so horrible it let his flaws and deceptions take over. He had hurt you right back and he knew just as everyone once would that he was no warrior. No perfect son. No perfect soldier. No man worth bearing the sins of the world. Your words crept back into his mind.

Then I will bear it. 

Neteyam, the way I feel about you is consuming.

“This is fucking bullshit!”

Just as Neytiri was going to comfort her son, try and offer any encouraging words she could, she felt his arm be pulled from her grasp. He was stepping away from her and her motherly gaze that was slowly suffocating him. He stared hard at his father as he passed him, sarcastically thanking him for all of his help in this whole thing, before stalking away in the opposite direction of the healing tent, his family, and you. 

They all watched him go and Kiri found herself stepping away from the tent in favor of going after her older brother. She nodded at her parents reassuringly, “I got it.” 

She took off in his direction, picking up her pace to catch up with him. As Jake and Neytiri watched them go, she huffed over at Jake, crossing her arms over her chest intently. That worried line in between her brows had formed again as her mind began to ramble with questions if what she was doing for her children and her people were right. Neteyam was the one she thought about long and hard, wondering if what they were doing was right. She felt like she had failed him or rather they all had failed him. As no one had ever made it easy on him from the moment he was born. There was not one sole point in time where they considered things from his point of view, his life, his future, or how once he had been full of childhood dreams. Instead, they just deemed them as improbable outcomes.

It was as if Jake could read her mind, all starting from that stressful line on her forehead between her brows. “He can’t be there. He will never forgive himself if he watches her….” 

“And he’ll never forgive us if she somehow dies and we never let him say goodbye.” 

Kiri chased after her brother, letting her parents' voices fade behind her. Her eyes narrowed at him as he walked in front of her or rather stomped in front of her. His braids swung from side to side, his back muscles tense and rigid. She could see every twitch of annoyance and frustration in his form, displayed on his back like any true man would — never demonstrating it out loud or through words but rather through body language.

Picking up her steps, she called out to him but he ignored her as he made it through the village. He was making a move for the forest, but Kiri knew that if he did disappear into the lush greenery, who knew when he would be back. There wasn't time for it.

“Neteyam, stop!” she finally yelled, firmly grabbing onto his elbow and yanking him back. 

He hissed at the way her nails dug into the skin of his forearm and let his feet come to a stop. Staring forward at the forest, his means of escape, a loud sigh fell from his lips. Unable to push the pain off his face, he refused to look at her, and instead tilted his head to the side, his broken gaze falling to the ground.

“What? What do you want?” 

“You can’t just storm off like this,” Kiri admitted, slightly out of breath from chasing after him, “Not right now and not like this. We need to stick together when something like this happens, so you can't just leave. Because believe it or not, everyone looks to you as much as they look to Dad during a crisis. Your presence is important, now more than ever. That, and I don't think you should be alone.” 

Scoffing he shook his head, denying her admission. More so, he wouldn’t stand there and let her give him that same pitying stare his mother couldn’t wipe from her face. “The fact that you would use my future title against me right now, are you serious? Tell, me Kiri other than that the people need me why I should stay. Y/N doesn’t want to see me, so what’s the point?” 

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Kiri’s hand fell from around him, suddenly feeling angered by his words and his tone as if he was brushing you off like it was the only thing he could do when around other people, “I mean what the hell is wrong with you? You can’t even admit that you have feelings for her, can you? Seriously? Nothing, at all? Neteyam, she could die, she could not survive this transfer and you still can’t fucking say it out loud.” 

His shoulders dropped, her voice cutting through him like a knife cuts through flesh, with resistance but then giving away. The more things she said, the easier it was to get through to him past the bullshit and the fear. Exhaling, he finally turned around to face her, his little sister, and felt his words get caught at the sight of how sad she appeared. Her eyes displayed every form of grief and anger, and it was all pointed straight at him. 

“I can't,” he responded, his confession wearing her tight expression away, “If I say it, it will become real. Everything these past six months will be right there in front of me. Every night spent together, every argument about her training, every reaction, and feeling she brought out of me. Except if I admit my feelings for her, it would also mean that I have to admit that I am losing her. I will be admitting that she is sick and dying, and I can’t accept that Kiri. I can’t..” 

Kiri stared up at her brother, eyes wide and wallowing in unshed tears as every friction and pause in his voice spoke to everything he was saying. He was barring a part of himself to her at that moment which he had never done before. He was looking past the perfection that was expected of him and let his insecurities ring out in the air and while it was killing him to his very core, a part of him felt relief. 

“Kiri, she’s not mine. She never was and I didn't have the thought to even ask. We could never be together so why even say anything to her, but I guess now, it doesn't even fucking matter, does it? All that duty and expectations bullshit means nothing because she is slipping away right in front of us. And now that I realize that, she doesn't even want to fucking see me."

She sighed, one that was brought out from deep within, as she took a hold of his arm again. This time gently almost like if she pressed any harder, he would break. Or he would get scared, sink back into his shell, and close himself off from the rest of the world.

“Neteyam—”

“What is that?” he shouted, pupils dilated and crazed as his eyes became drenched in tears, he wished would never fall. 

“Neteyam, please,” Kiri cried then, gripping his arm harder to get his gold eyes to lock with hers, to get him to calm down as his breathing was erratic pulling and prodding at his chest as if he were trying to self-destruct right before her eyes. “You need to try and understand what she is asking of you.” 

“I won't do this. I have to see her.” 

She shushed him then, his cries falling silent upon his tongue, “Brother, you have never seen her like this, do you understand that? For six months, you have only seen Y/N in her avatar body and as one of us. You have never seen her in this true form, in her human body.” 

“I don’t care about that, Kiri, you know that,” he replied, brows drawing down on his face as he tucked his bottom lip in between his front teeth. 

“Okay, but she’s also sick, very sick, and I can’t imagine that the last time she'd want you to see her would be like this. Not as this weak, shell of a person she doesn’t even recognize as herself anymore,” Kiri explained carefully, her tears starting to fall without her even realizing as she gripped harder onto Neteyam, “It sounds like she knows what could happen, what’s at risk here. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see you. It’s that, she would rather have the last time you saw her be from earlier. She’d be okay with the fact it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body because it would mean you would remember her that way, at that moment.”

Her words had struck him in the chest harder than any blow he had ever gotten in his entire life. It was worse than when he had collided with one of the floating mountains on his first Ikran ride, or the time when he had gotten the shit beat out of him early on his training days. It was even worse than when Lo’ak had beat the shit out of him hours ago. In fact, it felt as if it was worse than all of those things combined.

She’d be okay with the fact that it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body.

Neteyam bit down on his lower lip, reopening the wound that Lo’ak had put there earlier as every single word of that one sentence made him recoil. If the last time he saw you, talked to you, was in front of that tree screaming at you as you finally told him how you felt. The way I feel about you is consuming. No, it couldn't be. That would be complete and utter bullshit. He sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and let the last time you saw him be there, under that tree not only rejecting your heart but his own feelings. 

Neteyam had been selfless his whole life until it had come to you and he wasn’t about to return to the person he was before you, refusing to listen to his own feelings and what he wanted. At that moment he was choosing to be selfish, to choose himself and to choose you over some last dying wish. He knew it was wrong, so wrong, but it didn’t stop him from stalking the healing tent for the next half hour, watching as each person came and went. His bottom lip at that point was rebleeding and torn to shreds but he needed something, some sort of distraction from the fears that were starting to take over his body.

There were fifteen minutes until you were going to be transported to the site and another fifteen before the ritual would start. Neteyam watched from afar he as Mo’at walked out of the tent, her hands full and her gaze seemingly distracted. She disappeared far into the village and Neteyam snuck out from around the side of the tent he had been standing for nearly a half hour. Having the darkness to disappear into, he slipped into the tent unnoticed. With no one following him, he close the front lapels of the tent and turned slowly on his heels.

He felt his entire body freeze, hands clenching at his sides while his breathing suddenly sped up. Dim lanterns encased the room, emitting a soft glow and he felt all sanity escape him at the sight of the avatar body that had been in his grasp only two hours before. The only you he had ever known. It looked so cold without your animated expressions, that familiar pinched line in between your eyebrows, or the tiny divots of your dimples that appeared when you smiled. It was you and had been the you he had given himself to completely but at that moment it wasn’t you at all. Its eyes were closed and already having been prepared for the ritual, the body was wrapped up in blankets to be transferred.

His eyes then took in the much smaller form laid a few feet away from it, all bundled up, chest rising and falling with each deep breath that was inhaled. He cautiously walked forward and as the soft glow brushed along his face, he felt as if his body was at a standstill, all air pulled from his lungs.

Completely unmoving, he finally saw you for the first time — the real you and his entire world was shifted on its axis. You were all soft lashes, smooth skin, and glistening full lips. With your eyes fluttered shut, he wondered what color your they were, the opening of your soul. He wanted you to open them. He wanted to see if they matched the ones he had been staring into for six months. Other than that, the slope of your nose was smaller and your eyebrows were different, more prominent, and the markings on your skin were completely dissimilar to the ivory specks he was so used to admiring.

Somehow though, even with an entirely different person in front of him, you were entirely familiar — all of his favorite parts of you were the same, and just as you had looked earlier that night underneath the mauve tree, there in that tent and in that body, you were ethereal. And you were his even not officially, you were. Ma’ Y/N.

Tears once again resurfaced after the countless times he had reeled them back in that day. Slowly, he sunk down onto his knees beside you and listened to the way you breathed, trying to memorize the sound of it for as long as he could. Glancing down to your side, he found his eyes flickering with interest at the sight of your hand, limp across the blanket. Five fingers, smaller than his own, just as your other always had been. Staring down at it, he couldn’t help himself and before he realized it, he was reaching for it. Engulfing your smaller one in his, he watched as it slipped into his with ease as if it was meant to be there. He felt a type of warmth fill his chest then as your hand twitched in his. 

Tilting his head, he looked back up to your face and found himself taken aback at the sight of two small doe-eyes peering up at him. They were so elegant and nothing like he had expected but somehow he would commit them to his memory then and there. They scanned over his face like it was the first time you’d ever seen him and he felt his heart rate speed up when they had narrowed slightly. Your brows knitted together to bring back that pinched look he had just been reminiscing about seconds before.

The sight of you staring at him felt almost scrutinizing and based on that furrow in your brow and the slight frown that occupied your glistening and completely temptatious lips, this was without a doubt you. He knew then that it didn’t matter which body you were in, which form whether human or avatar, it would always feel like this. With you, he would always feel this. 

“Hm, so this is you. Well it's nice to finally meet you, Y/N Y/L/N, all of you," he said suddenly, voice low and so soft it comforted you in more ways than one.

A few moments ago when you had felt a sudden pressure on your hand and the warmth of calloused skin, you couldn’t help but stir from the sleep that had suddenly overtaken you. You didn’t know who to expect when you opened your eyes, but it definitely wasn’t Neteyam. You never thought it could be but as you looked up and adjusted to the light, sure enough, it was.

He was there, staring down at you just as clearly as he had been in the forest among the mauve tendrils of the Tree of Souls. At first, you couldn’t deny how the feeling of his hand wrapped around yours resembled a hug and all the consolation in the world you needed. However, despite the affectionate look about him you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there. How he could have been there when you deliberately had said he wasn't allowed to be. You didn’t want him to see you like this and definitely didn't ask for him to come and see all your insecurities looming over you just before the consciousness transfer.

That was when the annoyance set in, evidently by the furrowing together of your eyebrows and the downward curve of your lips. You stared up at him, not knowing if you even had it in you to speak to him. He chuckled out, hand squeezing yours, feeling as if you had captivated him completely at that moment.

“Look, I can tell by the way you're staring at me right now, that you're angry I'm here."

Your lips parted as if you were going to reply, and you watched as Neteyam leaned closer as if he needed to hear your voice. The reassurance that it was still you in front of him, the same person. But as you inhaled, he could feel the way you were struggling to even do that, breath.

"Nete— "

His hand squeezed yours again, reassuringly, his unshed tears were so clear to you then, like uncut glass in the soft lighting from the lanterns. “No, don't. Don't say anything. You have already said everything you needed to. You had your chance, now it's my turn. It’s my turn to talk.” 

With his eyes earnestly staring down into yours, you exhaled the breath you were holding and let your chest relax, parted lips closing with ease. You nodded then, letting the pinched look leave your face as if you were alleviating his anxiety with it. It was his turn then to breathe, his words jumbled across his tongue, adding weight to his mouth as he couldn’t dare look away from you. Finally, as you offered him an encouraging smile, he felt all of that weight be lifted off. 

“Look, I know you didn’t want me here not like this and especially not now, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wouldn’t do that to us, Y/N, because you deserve more than that,” he said, stumbling slightly while completely worried that everything was coming out wrong. But based on how it felt so right in his chest and the tears gathering in your eyes, he knew it was more than enough. "I don't know what's going to happen but I do know that you deserve more finality than that because you're everything. How you make me feel is everything and I just needed you to know that.”

His eyes were soft, looking at you as if it really were true, that you were everything. That you were the entire world, his entire world. Fully in that tiny spindle of time, it was like he was finally unveiling his entire self to you — every piece, sliver, and makeup of who he was was reflected in his eyes. No more walls, no more guarding or holding it all inside. There at that moment, it was the real Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan staring back at you. 

Curling your lips into a small smile, not enough to show your teeth, you could taste the tears that were slipping down from the inner corners of your eyes, finding a place within your smile line. With batted breath, you watched his eyes trace them to only find yours again. Relief filled him at that moment at the sight of them streaming down your face because they weren’t a sign of heartache, grief, or mortification of the situation. Most importantly they weren’t a reflection of fear or doubt about what was to come — it was as if you were completely content in your point in life right there with his hand wrapped around yours. No, what was inevitably laced within those pretty tears of yours was a complete abundance of love.

Neteyam felt as if that look had reached past his chest, taken the pieces of his heart graciously and purposefully, took them, and then, with the warmest touch, put them back together again. It was like Eywa’s plan for him wasn’t to become his father’s soldier or to save the Omatikaya from the invading enemies. His will, his purpose was to be here with you, like this. 

Leaning forward, you felt his palm connect with the side of your face, cupping your cheek like he had wanted to do so many times before. His thumb brushed along the glass of the oxygen mask and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and release more tears. Reaching up, your small hand circled around his wrist and held it there, able to feel his pulse under your fingertips. His eyes flickered to the touch before they found yours again and he suddenly couldn’t help himself any longer, not when he was finally able to see everything so clearly. 

He cleared his throat, voice overcome by emotions as a single tear of his own slipped from the corner of his eye and down into his upper lip. It was the first tear he can even remember touching his cheek in years — a tear that had and always been promised for you.

“I see you.” 

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise while the breath you had taken in felt like it had gotten lodged in your throat. More tears escaped from yours but your smile didn’t falter, not for one second, and you knew if that was the last thing you ever heard, you’d be happy. If it happened right there in his arms you could be okay with that because his words had somehow sanctified your soul. Sounding different, sounding so much more than when he had said it earlier that morning willed every bad thing away. In fact, it was everything, he was everything. 

You squeezed his wrist in your hand as you stared up at him, eyes gleaming like it was the first and last time they ever would, “I see you.” 

It was iridescent, the only way to utterly describe the sight. Mauve tendrils of neon light bathing skin in light as the forest's phosphorescent green pulsed beneath the people's bodies and feet. Pulsing to the heartbeat of their Great Mother. Pulsing in sync with their swaying bodies and stifled groans. It all reached deeply within their bones; her and her power. They cried to her, prayers and pleas kissing their tongues as the bioluminescence of the ground was prominent where their queues were connected.

Before Mo’at within the tendrils and the night sky, the atokirina was coated in white and floated in the air above in swarms. Thereupon the pulsing ground of the tree with bulging roots, two bodies lay wrapped within the confines of Eywa. The neon green phosphorescence rectifying as the Mother accepted the two bodies on her beloved soil. Evidently how the small fingerlike tresses of the ground lifted and wrapped around each body, grounding them completely. The same tresses that connected each person there to the entity of Eywa. 

“The Great Mother may choose to save all that she is in this body,” Mo’at spoke, watching the tresses grow across the avatar’s body eventually pulling the queue further into the ground creating a direct neural link to the back of your human neck. 

Eyes fluttered to a close, and you were finally relaxed, instead listening to the sound of your slowing heart. Norm stood in his avatar form near your human body with Neytiri as Jake sat on the other side next to the form they all hoped you would wake up in. His fingers brushed the strays hair out of its face and glanced over at your human body, taking note of the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He shared a look with Neytiri, a shared look of worry as both of Mo’at’s earlier words hung in their heads. She is very weak. It only brought flashbacks of Grace and filled him with the worst dread. That feeling was only exemplified when the ritual began. 

Everyone bathed in the green light, connected arms, all being interlinked as one with Eywa were able to feel her as well as each other. They slowly listened to Mo’at’s words chanting out in the air and repeated them in synchronism back at her, eyes closed focusing on the feeling channeling within one another.

“Ting mikyun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok (Hear us please, Great Mother).” 

Mo’at raised her arms high into the air, “Srung si poeru, ma Ewya (Eywa, help her).” 

“Pori tireati, munge mì nga (Take this spirit into you),” the crowd chanted back rolling their necks and their shoulders as one back and forth. 

No matter how many times Norm and Jake had witnessed the ritual, it still left them too stunned to speak; the overwhelming sensation of the voices in unison, the connection of the neurons through the ground, and the overriding presence of Eywa. It all was so much to process even more so while trying to pray to Eywa herself. To ask for forgiveness, for mercy, for her to return you even when you were weak and sick. Ask and beg that she give this one thing to all of those that loved you.

The phosphorescent green reflected back in his eyes as he glanced down from you to your human body now completely covered by tresses leaving barely any sliver of real skin showing. Mystified he watched as the atokirinas floated down from the sky and with the lightest touch surrounded your avatar body — the purest souls watching over you and serving as a positive sign of what he wished to believe.

Finally after what felt like hours of chanting and praying, and looking into the sky for Eywa, Jake felt his attention shoot up to Mo’at. He watched as she spun in circles, arms flailing in the air, eyes rolled to the back of her head, repeating the Great Mother’s name in constant tongues. She could feel her and she could hear her. He was focused then as Mo’at’s voice grew silent out of nowhere like a switch had been flipped. Her eyes returned to normal, her arms dropped to her sides, and her voice fell quiet.

Glancing down at the two bodies before her, she raised her hand to the rest of the people, her voice loud and commanding, “Lu hasey! (It is finished).”

The crowd became silent and all as one found themselves holding their breaths as Mo’at bent down examining your human body closely, her hands raised over your face. Jake held his too as Neytiri stepped forward, hands dropping to the mask around your face. With the uttermost delicacy, she reached forward and pulled it up and off, the sound from releasing the compaction was a gust of air. She laid it down on the ground next to your body as her eyes swept across your beautiful young face, relaxed, gone of any pain.

Her large hand cupped your face; like a mother, she leaned down and connected her soft lips to your forehead, right above your eyebrow. A maternal comfort you had never known or experienced, something Jake had mentioned often to her over the last half year. She let her lips linger a little longer, channeling all of her affection and devotion for you, offering it to Eywa. 

Leaning back her eyes opened again and her hand left your face with one final touch. She looked up to meet her husband's eyes and Jake felt the anxiety worsen in his stomach as she offered him an ensuring nod. He took a deep breath and looked down at the young avatar before him. He leaned over it, tracing every point of its face with his eyes, her ivory-kissed skin, and long eyelashes.

It was the same face of the young woman Jake had had the pleasure of knowing over the last six months. It was the young woman, he felt had become a part of his family. The face of the woman who had captured the attention of his children and left them astounded after seven years of knowing you. He looked down and saw the face of the woman who had managed to get his eldest son to fall in love. It was the face of you, the young girl who had been entirely and always enraptured by this planet and this world — a woman who was always meant to become a part of the Na’vi. 

His fingertips ghosted over your cheeks, the lightest of touches as the atokirinas could be seen all around you. Waiting and waiting, he felt his breath and hope leave him all at once as seconds passed and then a minute. He felt the time frame leaving, falling to a close, and his heart sunk into his stomach. Glancing up at Mo’at expectantly, disappointed, she urged him back down to you with a simple nod, asking him to wait a second longer.

Live or die?

One of us? Or one of them?

Letting his head tilt back down to you, Jake held his breath, his pointer finger brushing against the skin right below your eyebrow, delicately. His gaze zoned in on yours so seriously, he felt his throat well up waiting, begging Eywa. Just as his pinky pressed along your skin, the pair of eyes popped open, coating his sight in yellow and gold, flickered with specks of the lightest green he had ever seen.

one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)

some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry

title: the dancer and the angel part 3

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??

parts: part 1 part 2

warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

GRAYSON’S POV

Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-

I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.

Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.

I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.

I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.

“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.

It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.

It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.

“No,” I reply.

My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.

“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.

I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?

Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.

“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.

I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.

I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.

But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.

“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.

“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I’ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.

“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.

A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.

But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.

“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.

“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.

I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.

“Leave Grayson.”

I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.

***

Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.

911

***

The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?

The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.

I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.

She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.

I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.

I know her.

I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.

“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”

His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.

“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.

“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.

I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.

“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.

“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.

The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.

“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”

“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.

I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.

“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.

“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.

“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”

“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.

Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”

“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.

“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”

The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained

“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.

I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”

He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”

I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“

“What happened?” Nash drawls.

I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.

“I kissed Lyra.”

The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”

Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.

Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“

Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.

“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”

Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.

“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.

Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.

“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”

“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.

“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.

“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”

“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.

“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.

“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.

“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.

“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.

“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.

“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“

“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.

“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.

“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.

“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”

“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.

“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”

“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.

“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”

“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”

I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.

“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”

“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.

“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”

“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.

“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.

“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”

“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.

“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“

“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.

“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“

Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.

“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”

“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.

“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.

“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”

“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”

“Jameson,” Nash says.

He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”

“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”

“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”

“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”

“Good you should!” he screams back.

Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.

“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.

“Jameson.”

He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.

“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”

Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.

“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”

Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.

“Talk.”

I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“

“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”

“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”

She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.

“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.

Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“

I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.

“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.

“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“

I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.

“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”

I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.

“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.

“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”

Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”

“I made a mistake,” I press on.

“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”

“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.

“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.

“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”

“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn’t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.

“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.

“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.

No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.

“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”

“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”

“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.

“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.

“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”

“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“

“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.

I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.

“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.

He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.

“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”

I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.

Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.

“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.

Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.

“Honestly?” Xander asks.

I nod

“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.

“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”

“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.

“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”

Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”

“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”

“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”

“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”

“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”

“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.

“You don’t-“

“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“

“Grayson-“ Nash begins.

“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.

My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.

“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”

The change of tense makes my soul ache.

“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”

I nod numbly, robotically.

“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”

Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.

He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”

Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.

“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.

Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”

“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”

“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”

“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.

“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.

“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.

“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.

I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.

“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,

Nash shakes his head softly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.

“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”

The room grows still.

“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.

“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.

“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.

“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”

“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,

“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.

“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”

My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”

“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.

‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.

“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.

Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.

“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.

“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.

“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”

“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.

They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.

“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”

They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.

I can barely breathe, “who died?”

“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”

“What?” I say, my tone deadly,

Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.

“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”

“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.

“Gigi’s missing.”

The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.

***

YOUR POV

I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.

I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”

Only me, huh? Only me…

The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.

***

I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?

There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.

idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…

I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always

TIG masterlist

[urdepressedslut]

Lovesick

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore.

♡ Warnings: light angst, hints to past suicide attempt, mentions of imprisonment, fluff, bucky being oblivious and adorable

“You’re staring again… Kinda creepy.” Sam mutters to Bucky, snapping him from his thoughts. Which were all of you of course.

Bucky glanced to Sam, smiling with red cheeks at being caught gazing upon you. But he couldn’t help himself. He was so in love with you, it hurt. He was lovesick, his thoughts consumed longing for you. The lack of emotionally and physically connecting with you eating away at him.

Sam smirked at Bucky getting lost in his thoughts again, glancing from him to you with a knowing look. Bucky wasn’t one to express how he felt, but he’d confessed, and Sam knew he was falling apart.

You had come from a rough past, growing and adapting slower than most. You were kept trapped away from any human interaction for five years, which resulted in you becoming a whole different person.

Fact was you didn’t remember who you were before, you had remembered the basics, your name, parents. But that was about it. You felt like you had started over in life, but along with a fresh start you had issues that lingered.

You had been given a second chance at life some would say, but it was a life that would be tainted, haunted with ghosts from your previous one. So was it really a fresh start?

You didn’t know.

You met Sam and Bucky soon after you’d been freed of isolation. They were shocked to find out you had used to be a well respected agent, before everything happened. Feeling terrible that all your training, hard work was thrown away, now having to start all over again. Some was muscle memory, an instinct that never left you. But you found yourself re-training with the two. You found yourself healing slowly in the company of them. Of course you’d grown attached, and so did they. The three of you stuck together, a deep bond having formed.

While you and Sam had more of a sibling bond, there was something extensive about you and Bucky. He was able to empathize with you, knowing full well how badly you’d suffered, and that was something you’d grown to appreciate. Having someone able to relate, was reliving in a weird way, made you feel less alone.

Bucky had immediately liked you, admiring your strength, finding your kindness infectious. You were a rare pure soul, that didn’t deserve the suffering you’d endured. At first glance he was protective, his mother-like instinct kicking in at the sight of your skittish form.

Months had gone by, and you were doing much better. You were still a little slow, and you became overwhelmed quicker. You were to be treated with a little more care than most. Nevertheless, Sam and Bucky were proud of how far you’ve come.

“You should tell her.��� Sam startled Bucky from his thoughts once again, looking over at him with a hesitant expression.

“I don’t know man… I don’t wanna pressure her. She’s been doing so well, I don’t wanna jump the gun and freak her out.” Bucky rambled on, anxiety clouding his mind.

“You aren’t going to freak her out, she loves you Buck. I can tell.” Sam assured him, no teasing tone lingering.

“You can’t know that. Have you talked to her?” Bucky wondered.

“No, but it’s hard not to think otherwise with the way she looks at you.” Sam pointed out.

“How— how does she look at me?” Bucky pushed, not believing he could be that oblivious.

Sam on the other hand, thought he was completely oblivious.

“Seriously Buck? Are you missing your eyes too?” Sam asked incredulously, “She looks at you like you’re her whole world.”

Bucky thought back to the days he’d caught you glancing at him and Sam.

“She looks at you like that too.” Bucky argued.

“It’s different… I’m like a big brother she’s never had,” Sam stated, “Then you… It’s different.”

Bucky took in Sam’s words, and he couldn’t deny that yes, you and Bucky had an amazing friendship. But he was afraid that’s all it was. His chest ached at the thought that you wouldn’t want to be something more with him.

Bucky was about to respond, when Sam interrupted him, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Your girl is looking this way.” Sam told him, motioning his head to you.

Bucky glanced to you, his eyes meeting with yours. You were holding his gaze, your eyes warm and glowing. It’s like he had never seen it before, but now that he was gazing into your orbs, he felt like your eyes were saying a million words. It was giving him hope, that you might feel the same way.

Bucky excused himself from Sam, heading towards you. Getting closer he was careful not to interrupt the little girl talking with you, the sight making Bucky watch with fondness.

“My friend is being mean to me!” The little girl whined, crossing her arms with a huff.

“Oh, well that’s not okay. Where’s your friend?” You asked, ready to scold a kid for being rude to this sweet girl.

“She’s standing right next to you.” The little girl said as if it was obvious.

Your eyes widened slightly in horror, and glanced to either side of you, furrowing your brows in confusion when you saw no one.

“She is?” You asked her, receiving a nod, “Uh… I don’t see her.”

The little girl started laughing and you faked a smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“No one can see her, she’s invisible.” She told you with a wide grin.

You understood immediately what she was saying, and felt embarrassed that you hadn’t caught on. You weren’t used to hanging around kids, and you weren’t really good at talking to them.

“Of course, how could I forget?” You asked the girl playfully, trying to will your cheeks back to normal color.

Luckily for you, the little girl’s attention span had her running away to a group of kids, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Why did that interaction stress you out so much?

Bucky’s face hurt from how much he was smiling, but he couldn’t help it watching you talk with the little girl. Something about seeing you with kids had his stomach full of butterflies. You made him feel like a nervous school boy with a crush.

“Hey doll, making some friends?” Bucky teased you, and you met his gaze, smiling warmly at him.

“I think so, the kids are adorable.” You told him, the kids even though they were difficult sometimes, they were precious.

“You seem good with kids.” Bucky acknowledged.

“Oh not at all, I was actually very nervous. I feel like I talk to kids like they’re dumb sometimes… And I don’t mean it— Of course not, I just don’t have like any experience with kids.” You rambled on, while Bucky thought you were adorable.

“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re better with kids then I am.” He admitted, though the kids he’d seen today had taking a liking to him, which warmed his heart.

It was quiet for a moment, the two of you taking in each other’s company. Then you thought of a random question.

“Have you ever wanted kids of your own?” You asked him, your question taking him by surprise.

Bucky hadn’t always thought of the idea, but he found his mind wandering towards the idea more, ever since he’d gotten close with you. Though he assumed it was impossible, maybe back in the 40’s. But after everything that had happened with HYDRA, he wasn’t sure if his body was physically able to.

“Never really thought about it.” He lied, “You?”

“I’ve never really gave it much thought either, but it would be cool to have a mini-me running around.” You admitted, though the overall idea of kids terrified you.

Bucky smiled at the idea of a miniature you, the idea warming his heart.

“Uh, so actually… I wanted to talk to you doll.” Bucky started, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“We are talking Buck.” You said with a giggle, the sound giving Bucky butterflies.

“No no,” He chuckled, “I mean about something kinda serious. Something that I need to get off my chest.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the word serious, watching his playful expression slowly fade.

“Oh? Is everything okay?” You asked him, growing concerned.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I just wanna talk.” He assured you, calming you with his genuine expression. "Come on, let's go on Sam's boat."

Bucky grabbed your hand, helping you stand. The two of you walked onto the boat.

You immediately started fiddling around with the helm of the boat, pretending to be at sea. Bucky watched with heart eyes, leaning against the doorway.

“You know…” He started, getting your attention, “I’m super proud of you. For how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at his praise.

“Wouldn’t be here without you.” You told him truthfully, he was your rock. Sam too of course. But Bucky was special.

“I’m always gonna be here to help ya, but you gotta give yourself some credit.” He stated.

“I do…” You started to argue.

“(Y/n)…”

“No I do,” You trailed off, getting serious all of a sudden, “But sometimes I think back when things were pretty bad and… Well you were there. I really do mean it— I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Bucky immediately knew what you were talking about, and he cursed his mind for remembering the haunting image so vividly. You had been at a very low point in your recovery, and you tried taking yourself out of this world. His world. His hands clinging onto your crimson covered wrists was an eye opener, that he didn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. The very thought horrifying him to his core, his body frozen with dread.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring it up I just—”

“No no, don’t apologize doll,” His voice wavered, “Just hate that you ever felt that way is all.”

Despite rehashing over rough memories, you couldn’t help your chest from feeling warm, seeing Bucky care so much about you, had you feeling fuzzy. He had been so protective over you since that day, and some would call it overbearing, but you found yourself feeling safe. You knew Bucky would stop anyone from even blowing a breath of air your way if that meant you’d be in danger.

Bucky recognized that warm glow in your eyes again, as you gazed into his. He took a deep breath, seeing as this was his best chance.

“(Y/n), I like you… A lot.“ He rushed out, and you were still smiling, no shock shown on your face.

“I like you a lot too Buck.” You shot back, stepping away from the helm and closer to him.

“You— Really?” He wondered if this was all his imagination.

Sam was right? Psh, no way.

“Really Buck. I’m not good at expressing emotions— feelings, or any of that stuff. But I do know that I always want to be with you, I always want you around, even if we aren’t talking to each other. Just knowing you’re near is enough.” You confessed, hoping that what you said made sense.

By the look on Bucky’s face, you assumed you said just the right thing.

“Doll, I’m crazy about you. You’ve got me wrapped around your tiny little finger, I’m yours.” He told you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.

“Buck?” You whispered, cupping his face with your small hands, feeling him lean into your touch.

“Yes doll?” He whispered back, looking at you like you were his entire world.

Well, because you were.

“I think I love you.” You told him shyly, your cheeks reddening.

Bucky’s heart nearly gave out at your words, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming rush of joy that your confession had given him.

“I think I love you too doll.”

A/N: my ideas come to me at the most random times, this one came to me a couple days ago while I was eating cereal 🥴🤷🏻‍♀️

[nephalem-da]

Morbid Musings

(Bill Cipher x OC)

Synopsis: Bill Cipher shares his dark and quirky thoughts with his wife, Maeloraelis, during a quiet moment together.

The Nightmare Realm was as chaotic as ever, a swirl of colors and energies that defied logic and reason. Yet amidst the cacophony, a small pocket of calm existed—a quiet moment between two beings who had long since made this world their own.

Bill Cipher was in one of his chatty moods. His triangular form bobbed with excitement as he rambled on, his single eye wide and animated, with his lid curving upward in an upside-down U, mimicking a smile. He gestured wildly with his free hand, while his other hand was firmly clasped in Maeloraelis’s, their fingers intertwined. Despite his chaotic nature, there was a certain rhythm to his ramblings, a cadence that hinted at the intelligence lurking beneath his manic exterior.

“You know, Mae, did you ever hear about the human who tried to invent an indestructible material?” Bill began, his eye widening with a mischievous glint. “Poor guy didn’t account for human greed—his invention got locked away in some vault because, get this, it was too perfect! Can’t have something that lasts forever, right? Where’s the profit in that?”

Maeloraelis’s eye softened, her eye half-lidded in a look of pure adoration. She’d heard this story before—probably more than once—but she never tired of hearing it in Bill’s unique style. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to continue.

“And get this,” Bill continued, his eye narrowing slightly, the corners of his lid curling downward in a playful smirk, “Did you know that there’s a species of jellyfish that’s basically immortal? Like, when it’s done with life, it just reverts to its younger self and starts over. Crazy, right? Imagine if we could do that! We’d never have to worry about wrinkles or gray hairs—oh wait, we don’t have hair!” His lid curved into a wide arc, mimicking a grin as he cackled, his laughter echoing through the void.

Mae’s expression brightened, her eye gleaming with affection. “Sounds like they’ve got the ultimate do-over, huh? Must be nice to hit the reset button whenever you feel like it.”

“Exactly! But here’s the thing—” Bill’s eye narrowed into a sly squint, the corners of his lid forming a knowing smile. “They can’t remember their past lives. It’s like starting with a blank slate every time. No memories, no regrets, just endless loops of the same old thing. Makes you wonder, though... what’s the point of living forever if you can’t remember any of it?”

Mae tilted her head thoughtfully, her eye’s lid arching slightly as she considered his words. “Maybe it’s about the journey rather than the memories. Each life a new adventure, even if it’s the same.”

Bill paused, his lid relaxing into a thoughtful expression. After a moment, he shrugged, his eye brightening again. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I’d rather keep all the memories, even the messy ones. They’re what make us... well, us!” His lid curled into a softer U-shape as he looked at her, the chaotic energy in his eye softening. “Like us, Mae. I remember everything from the day we met, even though we were just little shapes in a big, scary world. And look at us now—ruling the Nightmare Realm together! How’s that for memories?”

Mae’s soft pink hue seemed to glow brighter at his words, her eye locking with his. “Every moment with you, Bill, is a memory worth keeping. Even your random facts and... unusual observations.” Her eye’s lid curved into a warm, loving smile, her affection for him clear in the way she held his hand and listened to every word he said.

Bill’s expression softened, his eye narrowing slightly in a tender gaze—a rare look for the chaotic being. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re the best part of this crazy existence, Mae. I don’t need immortality or do-overs as long as I have you by my side.”

Mae’s heart swelled at his words, and she lifted their intertwined hands, brushing the back of his hand with her lid in a gesture akin to a kiss. “And I’ll be here, always, to listen to every story, every fact, and every wild idea you come up with.”

Bill chuckled softly, leaning his triangular head against hers, their auras mingling in a soft, shimmering display. “Good, because I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Now, did you know about the island where bones just—”

Mae smiled, settling in for another one of Bill’s endless rants, her love for him unwavering. The Nightmare Realm may have been chaotic, but in this moment, everything felt perfectly right.

[updownlately]

it’s gonna take me a minute (but i could get used to this)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (fluffity fluff fluff) | 2.8k | inspo: used to this by camila cabello | a/n: first req! lets gooo! s/o to @awfcolivia for this one! this was really fun to write and i hope i did it justice! couldn't decide between fluff or fluff overdose so i just went with the latter :)

~~~

You weren’t a morning person. You really weren’t.

The idea of waking up early, to be cold, to be miserable, was frighteningly unappealing to you. Plus, the mere thought of having a to-do list pester you mentally before the rest of the world was awake was downright abusive in your opinion. 

It’s why you had been a late riser all your life, why you had dreaded high school and why your one and only year at university solely consisted of afternoon and evening classes. 

All in all, you really didn’t enjoy early mornings. Not until now at least. 

Now? Now, you chose to wake up early, albeit more by force than by choice. 

These days, your mornings dutifully started at 7am, an outrageous time protested not only by the old you, but your official cuddle buddy as well, yet it was something you chose to stick to.

Surprisingly, ever since you had signed your first pro contract in the NWSL, you had taken the initiative to take soccer even more seriously, if that was even possible. Altering your whole daily routine, diet, and especially sleep schedule, you had strived from your first official practice to be a better you, a better player.

Your transformation had been difficult for you, taking months to perfect and leaving a hole in your wallet from when you paid your teammates to help keep you in check, but it had been well worth it. The eventual betterment of yourself had not only helped you improve on the pitch, but it had led you to a starting spot in a top WSL team across the pond, playing high class football. An even better result of your efforts though, you thought, was the bed you got to share on the nightly with your own human teddy bear.

Said human teddy bear who was still tangled in the sheets beside you, sleep shirt half ridden up, face scrunched up adorably.

As you slowly gained consciousness, the cold waking you, you let your eyes wander over to your lover. The taller girl was sleeping soundly next to you, her golden locks disheveled, lower back on display as she faced away from you. 

Your eyes traced the curves of her barely visible visage, following the slope of her jawline, appreciative of how it met so perfectly with the slope of her nape. You took note of how the crook of her neck looked so inviting, the one spot you knew drove her crazy tempting you, nearly begging to be kissed.

However, your admiration was soon cruelly interrupted, a gust of a chilly English breeze that you still hadn’t grown accustomed to making you shiver and hug the comforter a tad bit tighter whilst a few profanities silently slipped past your lips. 

Accompanied by a grimace, you mentally cursed the weather, then yourself for not closing the window properly the night before as another blast of ice cold air came in, resulting in you further snuggling under the covers in search of warmth.

Taking a few measured deep breaths in, you reached for your phone, willing yourself to check the time. You knew for a fact your alarm for six forty-five hadn’t gone off, yet you prayed that maybe, just maybe, you had magically missed it, and it was in fact later in the morning. 

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, your memory served you correctly, the bright digits on your screen read a mere quarter past six, much earlier than you needed to be up.

Quietly groaning, you gently slammed your phone on the nightstand and contemplated between sleeping for the last whatever minutes you had left or getting your day started. In the end though, neither option won, your attention quickly getting stolen by the striker beside you who had just sleepily shuffled over onto her right side, inching closer to you and extending an arm out in search of your body, almost as if she could sense your displeasure.

You shook your head in amusement, your mood indubitably improving, leaving you smiling softly to yourself at the limb that was mindlessly shot out in your direction. 

Reaching out, you intertwined your hand with your girlfriend’s, fingers caressing the ridges between her knuckles. Craning your neck down, you placed a gentle kiss on each of the joints convincing yourself that maybe this early morning wouldn’t be so bad after all if it got you your fill of your Lessi cuddles.

Making your decision then and there, you dropped your interlaced hands down to your chest once more before delicately tugging Alessia’s arm in a wordless invite, knowing she was just barely awake enough to understand. 

Shifting your body in order to comfortably catch the oncoming ‘Lessi-bear flop’ as you infamously called it, you screwed one eye shut, anticipating the force that you knew was undisputedly headed your way.

Within seconds of you opening your arms to the slightly conscious striker you could feel the whole mattress shift as a tired Alessia comprehended your tug and body movement, putting two and two together to comply with your silent request, much to her enjoyment. 

Even in her fatigue, she managed to lazily pick up her body, balancing in almost a plank position for a split second before pushing off her hands and pivoting at her knees, letting herself fall onto you with a loud thump.

And even though you had braced yourself for the impact, it still managed to knock the wind out of you, leaving you slightly wheezing, adjusting to the weight of the 5’9” striker now near-completely resting on your body.

“Good morning to you too love,” you chuckled softly, your breath evening out slowly.

In lieu of her raspy morning voice however, you instead were met with a gentle grunt, the blonde clearly not awake enough to be holding conversation, not that she wanted to be. 

In fact, if Alessia had it her way, you both would be staying in bed till at least nine, if not ten, especially on days like this where you had no training or events to get to. She knew that you weren’t a late riser anymore and she wouldn’t tell you this, but if she had it her way, if she could, she’d hold you hostage each morning, wrapping you in her arms, forcing you to stay if it meant she’d get to spend a little more time with you.

It was the way you’d softly wake her up on the rare mornings where hers and your alarm would align, tiresome trainings causing you to skip the early morning run. The tender kisses you’d press to her face, quiet cuddles being shared, seeking out warmth before the coolness around you would cause shivers down both your spines. The way you’d whisper her name, calling out to wake her up. How her name never sounded sweeter than when you’d say it after you’d kiss her a final time, a promise of more unsaid but communicated thoroughly as you’d pull her out of the shared bed, leading her to the bathroom.

Regardless of how much she yearned for those calm mornings on the daily, she let you be, for your sake if anything. 

She knew that your career was important to you, as much, if not more than hers was to her, so she understood. Thus, each morning that you opted rather to go on a run and leave her alone, cold, with nobody to cuddle with, something she would tease you about whenever given the opportunity, she never minded. She would be more than happy to let you spend the next few years waking early so that the pair of you could spend the rest of your lives waking up late, a promise of forever in each morning that she woke up to an empty bed.

It’s why when you let Alessia cuddle you as she was now, her whole body on top of your smaller frame, her head tucked in the crook of your neck, legs intertwined, an arm wrapped around your midriff, she drowsily basked in the moment, knowing it was few and far between.

“Sleep. Stay…sleep,” she mumbled, tightening her hold on you, slowly succumbing to the sleep that plagued her, hoping she could enjoy this moment for as long as possible.

You hummed in response, choosing not to outwardly say anything, running your finger over her tattoo, aware that you’d have to leave your koala of a girlfriend in a little bit to go start your day. 

Deciding to indulge for a short while however, you chose to instead stop your mindless tracing and reach your hands up, one coming to graze the blonde’s back, the other running through her messy locks, gently working their way through the tangles and scratching her scalp, a tried and true method you know would calm your girl.

Faithful to the past, you could hear the blonde sigh at your ministrations, sinking imperceptibly further into your hold, her grip just slightly loosening up as sleep overtook her once again.

You didn’t doubt that when it came time for you to get up that it would be a battle, if not war, especially now that the forward had you in her favourite cuddling position. And you weren’t wrong.

As the clock struck closer to seven, you mentally prepared yourself to extract yourself from the endearing girl wrapped in your arms. 

Taking one look down at where she lay, not having moved an inch from where she fell asleep a short while ago, you couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, letting your lips linger, not wanting the serene moment to end even though it had to.

However, when you shifted slightly while trying to angle your torso in order to somewhat slide the Englishwoman off of you, you realised your misjudgement. You should’ve known better. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Not with the stubborn blonde that you called yours.

“No…stay,” a whine rumbling against your neck, the arm holding your waist quickly tightening.

“Less, my angel, I need to get up,” you whispered, heart melting at her display of adorableness.

“No you don’t. It's a day off. Day offs are for rest.”

“Lessi, baby I-“

“No. Stay. Please.” 

You willed yourself to not look down at Alessia's pleading, already feeling a pout on her lips from where she was nestled against you.

Eyes cast upward, the ceiling currently your best friend, you tried to reason again. 

“My beautiful snuggle monster. Less, my love, my angel, the love of my life, my pretty girl, I need to go on my run. Please let me go? I promise I'll make it up to you later.” 

You knew that if you stayed in bed any minute longer, you wouldn’t be making it out until much much later, something, it appeared, that your girlfriend was also aware of.

“Five more minutes…”

“Love, we both know it’s not going to be just five…”

“Then stay. One day of rest won’t kill you…” This time, Alessia lifted her head from where it was resting, calloused fingers lovingly grasping your cheek, pulling your gaze down, drawing your attention to her. Letting her aquamarine eyes meet yours, she tried one more time. 

“Please? I want you here. I want you to stay,” The whisper of words, accompanied by the return of her pout, this time in full force, to her sleep-dazed face hit you hard. The Englishwoman looked absolutely precious if you had to say yourself, truly testing your willpower, and you knew for a fact that it would be something that she'd win against.

“You’re a bad influence aren’t you Ms. Russo,” you sighed, a smile fighting its way onto your face as you give up, knowing you weren’t going to emerge victorious from this one, especially not when you couldn’t even move. Alessia had held you captive in more ways than one, unaware of the grasp that she had on your heart.

Doing a little shimmy to celebrate her success, something that resembled more of a struggling worm due to her laying down on top of you, the blue-eyed girl let a drowsy smile appear on her face at your statement, paving the way for you to mirror her with a matching grin adorning your own.

“Y’know you’re lucky you’re so cute? Can’t do anything when I got you in my arms I swear,” you jest, faux exasperation lining your tone.

Lowering herself once more, Alessia positioned herself on top of you, settling into the space between your legs, her torso completely engulfing yours, blonde head comfortably tucked under your neck.

As you let your arms circle her waist, wrapping around her once more, pulling her impossibly closer to you, Alessia continued to smile in triumph. 

“They say bad girls are attractive don’t they?”

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head fondly. “Well you have the attractive part down already, I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you tease, cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you were smiling.

“Alright flirt…calm down now,” the words being accompanied by a gentle smack to your bicep, followed by a yawn. Dear god the duality of this woman was going to kill you. 

“Hey...you started it. Anyways, I think you at least owe me a kiss now,” it was your turn to pout, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips. “If I kiss you, you have to stay in bed till I'm ready to get up.”

“That's quite an offer. let me think about this…” you smiled, the both of you aware you were just messing with her.

The striker moved onto her arms, trapping you between the mattress and herself, lips inches apart from yours, her forelimbs acting as a cage. Leaning in, you could feel her breath fan across your lips. “How about a few kisses?” 

“Hmm. I don't know…”

“Baby…” She dragged out the word, causing you to nearly break your facade.

“You drive a hard bargain but you got yourself a deal pretty girl.”

This time when Alessia pressed close, you gladly accepted her warmth, reaching up and pulling her in to yourself, soft kisses being traded between the pair of you. You let the faint scent of her perfume envelop you in a tender bubble, her body providing you comfort, the familiar arms and lips nudging you to rest, to relax.

When Alessia eventually gingerly pulled away, air becoming a necessity, you made sure to take a note of her eyes, the calming orbs laced adorably with sheer drowsiness.

Wanting to make sure that regardless of your early morning shenanigans, that your love still got her rest, you quickly laid a loving kiss to her forehead and ushered the forward to get comfortable once again, your hands working to cover your entangled limbs with the comforter once more. 

You began to run your fingers through her hair once again, the other hand finding purchase splayed across her back, faintly rubbing the expanse of skin underneath her sleep shirt.

Feeling her heartbeat slowly even out, you whispered out a quick admission of your love, hoping that even in her drowsy state she would be able to feel the never-ending love you held for her.

“I love you so so so much Less. Don't you ever forget it."

The way Alessia hugged your t-shirt just a little tighter, hands coming to fist the sides, pulling you closer, you knew she understood.

And when you’d wake up again a few hours later, inevitably before Alessia, you’d let yourself smile, amazed at how what once was you fighting demons to wake yourself up early turned into you begging the universe to dedicate you a few more hours of morning light, a few more hours of soft times, of murmured confessions of love and sweet kisses with the indisputable love of your life.

Finally allowing yourself to relax for the time being however, you loosened your muscles and let your thoughts run free, mind imagining the future of your dreams with the angel in your arms. 

You could vividly picture a series of perfect mornings, a handful of years down the line where the pair of you would stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, in each other’s love long after the sun has risen. Gentle mornings where cuddles would be a must, after which the pair of you would start your days slowly, never too far apart, never too rushed, nowhere to be but bathing in the glowing warmth of your love.

You knew it would happen all in due time. You knew that it was your stubbornness of the sport that withheld those flawless mornings from you. But you also knew that it would be worth it in the end. That those perfect mornings would eventually come, that the love between you two would extend far beyond your love for football ever would.

One day at a time, a couple hundred more mornings to go, then your love would be all yours, and you hers. You’d just have to patiently wait to achieve it. 

It would take you a minute but you’d eventually get used to it.

[hotaru-no-yume]

loyalty to the raging tempest

CW: This contains spoilers from the new archon quest. Read at your own discretion.

"You can start a new life here if you want to."

The God of Wisdom's words echo in your mind as you watch your Lord's unmoving figure on the hospital bed. You saw his fall, from the proud and cruel harbinger to a lifeless puppet who had its heart taken away. With Scaramouche's defeat and the Fatui branding you a traitor for refusing to return with the Doctor, you had nowhere else to go… until the Dendro Archon offered you sanctuary in her region.

"Gravedigger… You will regret this." The Doctor spits with the promise of your death.

"I'm sure the matra would be willing to take you in. Creating a final resting place for the dead is also necessary." In contrast, the Dendro Archon's kindness promised protection.

She was right. Under her watchful gaze, no one will be able to lay a hand on you in Sumeru. You can leave everything behind; even the pitiful puppet in front of you. Truthfully, Scaramouche was an awful person. No one in the Fatui liked him and your colleagues would often give you pitying looks once you got summoned to his side. You've lost count of how many times you were punished for not following his orders perfectly.

But still, for some reason, you can't leave him alone. Perhaps it's because of the way he looked at you when you first met. The look of recognition, fury, and something else. You remember him looming over you, staring at your dirt-covered body - the result of digging tirelessly in the cold mornings of Snezhnaya, all in an effort to create a tomb for a soldier you hardly know. Once you lock eyes, you see a raging tempest and you wonder what he's seeing when he looks at you.

"Pitiful. What's with that look in your eyes? Are you merely a doll who knows nothing more than to roll around in the dirt? Perhaps I should call you a rat."

You nod, but that seemed to make him angrier. As insulting as his words are, you really don't know anything else. In a distant memory, you see the blurry faces of your mother and father, hear their whispers of your duties and how it is important to create a final resting place, you remember the old shovel they handed you before you dug your first grave and the sight of their backs as they left for a mission and never returned.

You feel his attack before you see it. Your vision glows and you parry the blade of electro he sends towards you. You get thrown back, and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you slam into a tree.

"...Good. It seems you're not entirely hopeless."

You stand up on shaky legs, tensing as he steps closer and closer. He scoffs as you raise your weapon defensively. He probably thought fighting you was mere child's play.

"Work under me. I'm sure I can find some use for a little rat like you."

And he did find some use for you. Before you knew it, you became his right hand… or maybe "errand runner" was a better description for your job. "The Balladeer's Servant", others would whisper behind your back as they see you tailing the Harbinger's figure. You were at his beck and call and usually the one that bears the brunt of his anger (or as you like to call it in your head - his temper tantrums.) It was exhausting work; trying to keep up with his demands.

But sometimes, you would see the eye of the storm. He was calm in those times, his voice losing the sharp edge it always seemed to have - like a storm temporarily diminishing into a gentle, soothing rain.

"What are you looking at? …The cherry trees?"

He hums, tipping his hat up as he stares at the lush pink trees, not minding the rain of petals falling on him due to the strong gust of wind. You think that he looks very beautiful.

"I don't need anything. Just stay there and don't make a sound."

You watch him collapse in pain after enduring the Doctor's experiments. Regardless of his protests, you help him get settled on his bed. You silently question why he doesn't see himself as a human. After all, he feels pain and suffering, just like everyone else.

Your current situation reminded you of those quiet nights with only the candle light to keep you company. But instead of seeing your Lord's eyes open the next day, he's been asleep for more than two months. Just as you think he's never going to wake up, he stirs from his slumber one morning, jolting you awake.

"...My Lord?" You call, making his pretty eyes focus on you.

"You're still here?" He mutters in disbelief, like he expected you to be gone from his side.

"Why wouldn't I be? I pledged loyalty to you, didn't I?"

Your honest words stun him into silence. He narrows his eyes, looking for a lie, a hint of deception and desire for personal gain.

He finds none. Just an honest fool that he picked up from the dirt littered with flowers and concrete.

"Idiot."

.

.

.

"̵͉̐̈́S̷͍̜̓c̶̱͎̈ặ̸̪̕r̴͚͎̉̍ă̵̤m̴̻̃̀ö̴̤̣́̈́u̷͍̙̽c̷͓̘͠h̷͈̟̉̀ė̸̗"̷͚͍͒̚ ̶̲̈ǎ̸̲͋ń̶͖̥̐d̷͉̒ ̴̤͍͗̀"̸̬̳̈K̴̤̤͝ả̵̰̈͜b̶̦̱͝u̶͖͚͋ķ̷͆̀ì̵̦̙̓m̸͓̥̑ô̸̠̥͝ṉ̴̦̀͆o̶͖̘͑́"̵̟͂ ̸͖̆̀ͅw̷͕͆̊ǐ̶̺̮l̷̦͋̅l̴͔̹̈́ ̴̫͗̾ç̵̖͋́ẽ̶̯̺ả̸͎̒ş̴̪͒e̶̳̼̍ ̵͍̱̿t̸̬̍̀ọ̸̩̒̍ ̶̻̯̿̚e̷̤̎̚x̵̼͗ì̷͉͈s̴̯̈̈t̸̡̻́.̸̬̏

.

.

.

"Do you… do you remember him?"

A floating fairy that carried the scent of stars asked you as she gestured to the man in blue. Four pairs of eyes stare at you in anticipation as you gaze at the man with a frown. He crosses his arms as he waits for your answer. You weren't expecting this strange turn of events at all. Your life was finally becoming peaceful under the kindness of the Dendro Archon. She gave you a home and a place to work. You needed nothing more. And yet, you feel like things are about to go upside down again with the presence of this strange man.

"I'm sorry. I don't know him." You said. Their gazes turn uneasy and the man in blue's neutral expression breaks for a moment.

"...But I feel like I should." You added, stepping forward to get a closer look. Not expecting the close proximity, he flinches and moves back, as if electrocuted.

"How dare-!"

"What's your name?" You ask, not paying attention to the spark of anger and embarrassment that appeared in his eyes.

"...Give me one." He says with a sigh.

"Pardon?" Did this familiar stranger really ask you to name him?

"How fascinating…" The Dendro Archon mumbles, placing a hand on her chin as she regards you with curious eyes. "Their memories were definitely erased… but somehow, the connection you formed with them was so strong that it resisted the data deletion process. There is a saying that the heart and mind are two separate things. In this case, the mind may have forgotten, but the feeling is still there. It seems you've garnered someone's loyalty regardless of your lack of divinity."

"...I suppose that's enough." The man in blue looks away, tipping his hat over his eyes.

"Well? Have you thought of a name yet?" He addresses you and you find yourself at the center of attention once again. They were actually serious about naming him…

"How about…"

The man in blue closes his eyes. You think you see the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a small smile.

[asolareclipses]

(Previous part)

The room full of eyes burned into to him, and Nico imagined this is what ants felt like under a magnifying glass. Everyone looked at him expectantly, as if he knew everything about darkness. Something’s dark? Yeah just ask Nico he’ll definitely know. That didn’t really bother him though, because he didn’t blame them. If someone were to mention storms he’d look at Jason, probably. What bothered Nico was the fear that lay behind some of their eyes, a traitor was in camp, one hiding in darkness. It was only human to be suspicious.

“…I’m not sure what it is.” Nico said, it was a half truth. He had a hollow feeling that he knew who was behind this chaos, but it was a feeling he wanted to ignore for as long as he could. But the spirits he spoke to that morning had only confirmed his deepest worries.

“Well someone wanted you dead,” Dana said, “unless..”

“Unless?” If eyes could shoot daggers, Wills eyes would be shooting swords.

“Im not insinuating anything, but my mother’s Athena so I was taught to see the bigger picture.” She seemed hesitant as she spoke, “It would be a genius plan.”

Nico’s heart stopped. He felt like his did all those years ago as he watched, behind a dream, his friends debate whether he was worth saving. As accusation of trust which had destroyed him, despite him never speaking of it. He’d hadn’t even told Will, keeping that memory locked away as it slowly ate away at his sanity.

“You can’t be serious,” Will stood up. His voice was cold and harsh as ice, as his fists clenched in a sense of rage.

“No,” Nico stood up, he put his hand on Wills arm. Will had always fought tooth and nail for him, Nico wished he didn’t have to. Every time Wills gentle demeanor turned to that of anger, it made Nico feel an all consuming sense of shame; if only he could be more simple, more easy to handle. “It’s fine, if that’s what you think.” He tried to keep his voice steady, each breath he took brought him back to that table, that ship, that jar.

The room suddenly felt suffocating, the air felt too stale, he felt trapped again.

Will turned to him, his brows knit in utter concern, “Are you okay?”

His words felt muffled beneath the ringing in Nico’s ears, “Y-yeah..I just need a moment.” He didn’t want to, but his body took over as he rushed out of the front door. A second longer in that room had been unimaginable.

As his shoes hit the grass, it withered. He cursed under his breath as he tried to steady his hands.

“You’re not in that stupid jar, pull yourself together,” He muttered leaning against the wall along the side of the big house. Whatever breathing exercises Mr D. had taught him dissipated with his panic. He knew how stupid it was, running away as soon as someone accused him. That was probably the most suspicious thing that someone could do. ‘Oh are you the murderer’ ‘No, bye!’

Still, his stomach felt like as if it had been tied into several knots, corroding him from the inside out with painful moments from the past. He felt like he was there again, watching the two people he was closest to now, debating his life. Nico had never blamed them, he’d never hated them. It was never them who hurt him, it was himself. He hated himself.

Nico would’ve stayed there, drowning in his thoughts forever, if it weren’t for the sudden sounds of clashing that echoed through the camp. It sounded as if something was skittering across the ground, followed by metal scraping against rock. His hand instinctually went to where his sword would be, but unfortunately he’d left it in his cabin. Despite that he still headed towards the strange sound, attempting to be as silent as possible.

When he peeked around the corner he saw Mae, a new camper who had shown up with her younger brother Sam a week ago. They had been claimed as children of Hecate the night they showed up. The two of them reminded Nico of when he and Bianca first came to camp, he couldn’t decide if that was more painful or comforting. Unfortunately the sound wasn’t just Mae sword practicing, as a large shadowy creature stood infront of her. It was similar to a scorpion, but its form flowed with a wobbly consistency.

Mae stood there, sword in hand as she faced the creature. Her hands shook as she trembled in terror, Sam was hiding behind her. Nico could almost picture himself, that day at Westover, cowering behind Bianca as their Vice Principal turned into a monster.

The scorpion thing moved forward to strike and Nico rushed to intercept, it was incredibly stupid as he didn’t have a weapon, but still he charged ahead. Just as it thrust its claw towards Mae, Nico willed all the shadows it was made from against it. The darkness seemed to fight him, barely remaining under his control.

He bided enough time to grab the sister and brother, pushing them out of the way. “Mae, take Sam and run to the big house.” Nico said as he took the sword from her hand. His words were rushed as he could feel the scorpion regaining its control behind him.

“But I can help!” Mae’s eyes were filled with the same bravery Bianca’s had once shown.

“You don’t have to be a hero just yet okay? Just make sure Sam is safe for now,” He didn’t allow Mae to protest and she agreed, grabbing her brother by the arm and running off towards the big house.

Nico almost breathed a sigh of relief until he turned and was face to face (or what he presumed to be its face) with the creature. Up close, its shadows swirled and shifted like each was breathing on its own. Its claw lifted and swung at him, and Nico lifted his sword in an attempt to block the attack, but the sword passed through the creature like it was made of air. The claw kept going unbothered and Nico barely managed to move in time to not get chopped in half, unfortunately the sharp spikes along the claws managed to slice into his arm.

Nico reminded himself to never leave his cabin without his sword again as his arm began to drip with blood.

“What is that?!” The counselors from the big house had all began rushing out towards Nico, along with them, more campers rushed over too.

The scorpion turned towards the others, its void-like claws snapping. Nico knew there was nothing their swords could do to kill it; so in a last ditch effort he slammed his foot against the ground, a large crack spreading and swallowing the creature whole. A second later the crack sealed up, leaving a barren scar along the grass. The satyrs were going to hate him for that.

“Oh my Gods Nico what was that?” Leo had rushed forwards with Jason and Will.

“I don’t know,” Nico said through heavy breaths, the pain from the creatures claws was overpowering as it seemed to seep throughout his whole body.

“Your arm,” Wills face was pale as he gaped at the wound.

“How did that thing get into camp?” Connor asked as he stared at the large gash along the dirt.

“It shouldn’t have been able to get through the boundaries,” Chiara said.

Suddenly a lot of suspicious eyes were on Nico, again.

Will seemed to notice as he snapped towards the small group of campers gathered around them, “You can’t be serious!”

“Will we’re not saying anything it’s just…” Dana seemed reluctant to continue.

“Who else could conjure up something like that?” An Ares camper called out, Sherman quickly turned glaring towards the person who’d spoken.

“Give me one good reason why Nico would do that!” Jason yelled, and as he did the air seemed to turn electric.

The campers went silent, they all seemed to have a thought on their mind yet no one spoke it aloud.

“I get it..” Nico said cutting through the silence, his voice like a knife. “I’ll figure this out myself.”

He stepped backwards into the shadow behind him, the last thing he saw was Will eyes widening as he called out, “Wait Nico!”

Nico didn’t wait, he disappeared into the shadows, but not before Leo could manage to latch onto his arm, following him into the shadows.

As the world faded to black he heard a sharp sickeningly familiar voice in his head, Strike one little demigod.

—

Leo wasn’t sure if following Nico was incredibly smart or incredibly stupid, but with his track record it was probably the latter. His body had reacted before he’d thought about his decision though, and he was quickly pulled into the shadows. As he entered the darkness he was hit by a sense of cold from every direction, it was as if he were surrounded by nothing. He’d forgotten what shadow travel felt like, and he’d forgotten how much it sucked.

He was never more glad to see the sun when they stumbled out of the dark. They were in some park, with a vast assortment of trees spread throughout the grass. The air was warm and fresh, providing a comforting breeze as the sun shined above them.

“Valdez i’m going to-“ Nico began to say something in his usual angry tone before he doubled over onto the ground. The grass around him withered and black smoke seemed to trail off of him.

“Nico are you-“

“Shut up.” Nico cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth. Leo felt guilty, just standing there, but after a moment Nico managed to steady himself.

“Dude are you okay?” Leo asked, unable to convey the pure amount of worry he felt.

“It’s fine.” Nico took a shaky breath, struggling to stand.

Leo wanted to reach out and help him, but he had a feeling it would not of been appreciated. “That didn’t look fine.”

Nico eyes snapped towards him, “Why did you follow me?”

“Because I wasn’t going to let you run away all on your own like an idiot?”

“Who said I was running away?” Nico looked at Leo like he was stupid.

“Huh?”

Nico sighed, wiping the dirt off his hands, “I was going to try and find what’s been causing all of this. If I can find it and stop it then this whole mess will be over.”

Leo gaped at him for a moment, he felt a rush of sadness and then anger, “You thought you could just go out all on your own? By yourself?”

“I don’t want anyone else getting hurt, this is my mess.”

“First of all,” Leo felt himself heating up, literally as the tips of his hair began to smoke. “You can’t just try and solve everything on your own like that, you could get hurt, or maybe worse..secondly, how is this your mess?”

Nico paused, a hesitant look passed over his face. “Because I think I know who’s doing this.” He paused before speaking again as Leo waited for him to continue, “Nyx.”

“Nyx as in Night? Why would Night be specifically attacking you?”

“I guess I hurt her pride back in tartarus,” Nico said. Leo thought about how casually he’d said that, like that fact he’d been there twice was no big deal. “Or..”

“Or?” Leo couldn’t imagine how it could get worse.

“She’s trying to rise. I mean after Gaea rising and the Giants attacking, there must of been a lot of time for her to gather her power. She’s a goddess after all, she might be trying to rise like Kronos did.”

“Great, that’s amazing.” Leo sighed, there it went, getting worse. Unsurprisingly, they couldn’t go more than a year without something very bad happening. “So she’s coming after you first, for what, a grudge?”

“That..or it’s because i’m the only one who can really stop her, if she gets rid of me first she has a better chance of taking down camp.”

“So you go out to try and face her, on your own?” Leo felt his patience running thin, “Isn’t that exactly what she’d want?”

“I wanted to stop her, before she could hurt anyone else.” Nico looked down, he wouldn’t meet Leo’s eyes anymore, his focus now on the withered grass.

Leo felt a tinge of guilt as his anger dissipated, “You don’t have to do everything by yourself you know that? This Nyx lady, she loves darkness?” Leo’s hands sparked into flames, “Then i’ll show her some real light.”

A hint of a smile creeped onto Nico’s face, “I’m not convincing you to let me do this on my own am I?”

“Nope!” Leo’s flames turned to smoke as he reached into his tool belt, pulling out some bandages. “Now let’s get you all fixed up before we put ourselves in any further danger.”

Nico rolled his eyes, looking at the deep gashes along his arm. Something about the cuts was abnormal, yet Leo couldn’t figure it out. It was yet another moment where he realized that he could fix any machine, but when it came to humans he was seriously lacking. Again, he wished he was a doctor like Will or something, magic healing powers would be great right about now. Even ambrosia would’ve been nice, but of course the most he could give was papery bandages and some screws and bolts.

He did an extremely poor clean up job on the wound before stopping to ask, “Maine is a pretty big state, where to first?”

A dark shadow seemed to pass over Nico’s face as he met Leo’s eyes, “Westover. Me and Bianca’s last school.”

(Part Four)

[yuki2sksksk]

Saw a YouTube video of someone doing a 'What If Tanjirou meets another Hashira in the first episode' so here are my speculation;

Giyuu: Already in canon, Tanjirou and Nezuko are spared

Shinobu: Same as Giyuu with attacking Nezuko first but becomes immensely curious and bewildered when Nezuko protects Tanjirou. Thinks about Kanae and decides to let her curiosity wins her over. She probably make a deal with Tanjirou like "I'll recommend you a teacher for you to become a slayer in exchange for me to take your sister with me." Probably does experimenting on Nezuko because of her opposite demonic characteristics 💀 (a complicated situation, both sides trying to find the solution for a mutual agreement with Tanjirou refusing to leave Nezuko while Shinobu wants to poke her around with needles and stuff)

Kyojuro: Attacks without hesitation, stating bluntly to Tanjirou why Nezuko should be decapitated (unintentionally harsh) and does a double take when Nezuko protects Tanjirou. He might still stands on his ground but questions the whole situation. I can either see him still trying to slay Nezuko or spare her and takes Tanjirou as his student.

Mitsuri: Despite her soft and cheerful attitude, she shows little mercy when it comes to swinging her blades. She apologies first before diving into an attack. Very shock at seeing how Nezuko protects Tanjirou and starts complicating on what she should do next, to continue her mission or spare the siblings. She might needs to sit down and thinks for a moment. The outcome probably with her sparing them.

Muichiro: So honest with his words, insults Tanjirou at hoping for Nezuko to be good. Attacks but pauses when Nezuko is protecting Tanjirou. Maybe tilts his head and stares, asking Nezuko if she has ulterior motives. The most possible outcome of this situation is him to continue his mission and slays Nezuko, reminding himself that his responsibility as a slayer outweigh everything else.

Uzui: Doesn't filter his words when it comes to explaining to Tanjirou on why the boy is stupid enough to protect his demon sister. His eyes get wide when Nezuko protects Tanjirou and questions swimming around his mind. Either he decides to grasp onto the tiny possiblity that Nezuko can be good, or that he goes ahead to behead her. I see Uzui as a hopeful man clinging on to exciting possiblity of impossible situations, so he might takes Tanjirou as his student but keeps Nezuko lock or isolated away 💀

Gyomei: He thinks the situation is pitiful and hopeless, that Tanjirou is in too much despair to hope his sister still has the humanity in her. Even with blind eyes, Gyomei senses the change of the atmosphere when Nezuko stands over Tanjirou like a protection barrier between him and Tanjirou. He keeps wondering how such thing is possible, how a child like Nezuko decides to risk her life for her human brother that she probably never has memory of. He thinks of the chance that maybe she's being defensive over her food. Either he goes for a killing strike, or to have Tanjirou learning under his guidance while keeping close watch on Nezuko.

Obanai: Very harsh insults, thinks Nezuko has ulterior motive for protecting Tanjirou and beheads her 💀

Sanemi: We all know where this is going 💀 Kill first ask later.

[irafuwas]

twst book 7 chapter 5 notes

You guys know da drill, massive spoilers and babbling and probably lots of typos ahead!!

Attack on the fortress

Lilia wants them all to teleport back to the castle. However, baul explains that long distance teleportation magic is very hard on people with injuries/illnesses, as it involves basically dematerializing someone’s body and consciousness and then rematerializing it elsewhere. For that reason, the troops split up, with some teleporting right back to the castle to support the princess, and others staying behind with lilia and baul, who will return to the castle on foot

Sebek, silver, yuu, and grim decide to find a way they can help lilia and baul break through the fleet of iron ones surrounding the fortress. They locate some brooms in the fortress and plan to use them to fly over the iron ones and draw their attention. Also, while in the fortress, they find some owls and birds locked up in cages (people used them back then to send messages, per sebek). After freeing them all, silver asks the birds to gather their woodland friends and help them escape. The birds go to the surrounding forest and call on a bunch of animals who come attack the iron ones, with birds dropping rocks on them and squirrels chewing up their catapults.

Lilia musters enough strength to join the boys, and he’s like “umm we’re supposed to be the followers of the night here, you guys” and he calls forth his bats to help the other animals. He quickly tires out from his injuries and rides on sebby’s broom with him

They successfully break through the surrounding troops and escape into the forest. (Lilia is very pleased and pats silver and sebby’s heads)

From here on, they travel by foot as fast as they can back to the castle

Siege of Briar Castle

(I was hoping they’d reveal the localization of 野ばら城, but unfortunately, the map titles all just call it “Castle”. So I will keep calling it Briar Castle for now)

There’s tons and tons of iron ones surrounding the castle as far as the eye can see. They have their excavator machines and catapults with them. Henrick and the knight of dawn are leading the charge, and they also have some mages amongst them and soldiers from neighboring lands

Henrick challenges Meleanor to come fight the Knight of Dawn one on one. If she wins, they will leave. If she loses, Henrick will take the magic stone in her staff (they call the stone “Princess Glow” ?) , briar castle, and her egg, and he will keep the baby dragon to use as like a mount in battle

Lilia

His UM allows him to see the “memories” imbued in objects. He uses it to see how baby silver ended up alone in the castle. It’s called “Far Cry Cradle [To that cradle, far, far away]”, incantation is “Life is but a fleeting day, distance but an illusion.”

He almost kills baby silver, but stays his hand, knowing he couldn’t face malleus again if he did something like that

he decides to raise the baby because he wants to find out if he is truly capable of loving a human. And because he hopes the baby will help malleus get to know humans better

The reason he didn’t tell silver they weren’t related was ‘cause he was too scared to. He didn’t want to see silver get hurt from learning the truth

Meleanor

美人！！！！

Very very very hotheaded. She was trying to strike people with lightning left and right.

She absolutely HATES humans

when she noticed silver and sebek, she told them to kneel before her, and it looked like she cast magic? on them and they fell to their knees

she decides to take the Knight’s challenge, and tells Lilia and the others to escape with the egg using the old underground waterways underneath the castle

lilia begs her not to go, as the egg won’t hatch without its parent’s love. but she tells lilia he can hatch it in her stead. Lilia says he’s never known a parent’s love and he’s never even loved someone before, but meleanor says that’s not true, because he loves her, and he loved levan. And so of course he would love the child borne between them (apparently lilia proposed marriage to melenaor when they were kids kdfjgh)

she changes into her true form (i.e. dragon form) and goes to battle

Levan

he is the one who held onto Lilia’s NRC acceptance letter for him

he is the General of the Left

he always said the fae need to understand humans better, and humans need to understand fae better

he is the one who taught the fae human languages (I thought i remembered lilia saying that but can’t find the part in the video where he says it for the life of me)

Sebek

His UM is “Living Bolt [Clap of Thunder]”, incantation is “I call upon thee, Lightning – Pierce through the clouds above!” I didn’t quite understand what was going on since they are limited with the live 2d models, but it looked like he struck himself with a bolt of lighting?? And then he turned into a lightbulb dfkgjhdkfg

Baul says seb’s older bro and sis never showed any interest in martial arts. But when sebek was around 7, he was saying he wanted to join the imperial guard one day, so baul went and asked lilia to take sebby on as a student

Seb’s older brother is an NRC graduate

Silver

His birth parents are the Knight of Dawn and Princess Leia (Henrick’s sister)

What happened is, after the silver owl defeated (?) Meleanor, henrick took over briar castle. But quickly after that, war erupted again over control of the natural resources and ownership of the land/castle. During the fighting, three fae (one red, one green, and one blue) cast a protective spell on the knight and princess leia’s infant son. The spell would cast the baby into a deep, deep sleep, and would preserve him just as he was. He would sleep and be protected for 10 years, a 100 years, however long it took for the danger to pass. And he would one day be awakened by someone who truly loved him. (lilia surmises the fairy’s spell must’ve weakened over time, and that’s why the baby woke up when lilia was there)

Three or four hundred years after the aforementioned fighting, lilia stops by briar castle. It’s overgrown with thorns and deserted. He says it’s taken all this time for the surrounding nations to agree to peace accords and for the Verdant Glen to become visitable again

He was born with blonde hair. It turned silver when Lilia gave him a blessing. Lilia comments that the Knight must’ve gotten his blonde hair from being blessed by Diurnal fae, and due to Lilia’s blessing (i.e. a blessing from a follower of the night) it changed his hair from the color of the sun to the color of the moon.

Lilia didn’t find Silver’s name written on his cradle or anything, and the day Lilia found him he set as Silver’s new birthday. He choose the name for the color of silver’s hair – silver, like the moon’s light that shines down upon the dark night

Silver within the Darkness

The discovery of the identity of his birth parents shocks silver to his core, and it causes the Darkness to appear and drag down silver into its depths. Yuu, sebek, and grim go in after him, while baul and lilia flee with the egg into the forest. They agree to regroup later.

As Silver is pulled into the Darkness, he sees some of Lilia’s memories. He sees when Lilia first found Silver as a baby, and some memories from his early childhood that he had forgotten. (baby Silver called Lilia ととwhich is like dada/papa/daddy)

It turns out Silver was the one who made the acorn bracelet for lilia. the squirrels helped him gather the acorns, and the woodpeckers helped him thread it together. He made it because some fae living in the oak tree told him that if you wear a charm made from acorns, you will live a long and healthy life. He gives it to lilia and asks him to always stay well and to always be with him. Lilia gets emotional and hugs silver, and says he feels like he could live another 1000 years thanks to the charm. Silver says, “I love you, daddy” and lilia says, “I love you too, Silver” <- (my cause of death)

No matter how many good memories silver sees, he refuses to believe that lilia and malleus love him – the child of their enemy. He begs the darkness to envelop him and pull him into a sleep he will never awaken from

He hears lilia’s voice calling out to him, urging him to get up and keep going. Silver fights off the Darkness and gets back up, but it’s not until Sebek and co. arrive and knock some sense into him that they’re able to escape

Silver refuses to believe lilia and malleus don’t hate him, and since nothing they say is getting through to him, sebek tells silver to take up his weapon and fight him. They spar for a while, and silver defeats sebek. He finally calms down enough for sebek to talk some sense into him, and sebek explains that if lilia really did hate him, then why did he take the time and effort to raise him and teach him? Isn’t the fact silver grew up to be such a strong young man proof of lilia’s love for him? And isn’t Silver’s strength lilia’s love itself? silver realizes that sebek is right, and the Darkness dissipates. They end up in Silver’s dream corridor and see a vision of the Knight of Dawn for a moment, who smiles at them, and then they return back to Lilia’s dream.

Knight of Dawn

He doesn’t agree with what Henrick is doing, and he tries to talk Henrick out of the siege

His ring was given to him by his fairy guardian(s) when he was little. He said there’s only one like it in the world

He and Princess Leia are said to have died during all the fighting that took place after Henrick took over briar castle

Henrick’s father took him in when he was an orphan and raised him. Although the Knight refers to that man as his father, he doesn’t refer to Henrick or Leia as his siblings.

Silver’s sleepiness returns all of a sudden when the knight gets near him. Or maybe it’s the knight’s ring doing it, its unclear

For some reason, he saves lilia’s life when the ceiling in the underground waterway was about to give way and hit lilia and the egg. And instead of attacking them after that, the knight asks them to flee

Its literally just silver’s live 2d model with long blonde hair and he’s voiced by nobbu (silver’s va)😭

Henrick

Bald!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He says that the peoples in the surrounding nations live in fear of dragons attacking them. That’s how he was able to gain support from other countries for the siege

He says that if they can get their hands on the “Princess Glow” magical stone, they might be able to cure their (his, leia’s, knight’s) father of his uncurable illness

He says that Leia has been praying day and night for their father to get better

Lullaby

It’s the tune that mal hums earlier in the book.

At one point, silver sees a memory of malleus looking after silver when silver was a baby, and malleus hummed the song to him. But mal didn’t know the words, and he couldn’t remember where he even heard the song. mal wondered if one of his wet nurses sang it for him when he was little

Silver says lilia would sing it for him often when he was little

Very, very rough TL of the lyrics:

“As you lay there in your warm, warm cradle

The starlight rejoices overhead

And I gaze upon you, right by your side

Shh, you’ll always be okay – both awake and in your dreams

Now sleep, sleep, my beloved child

I pray you’ll walk towards that light

That light that will guide you in your dreams”

[i-cant-sing]

Everyone asking about the Royal Gay au meanwhile I'm just gremlining in the corner waiting for anything related to Re8:TRP bc I don wanna ask about it and potentially annoy you

Hmm, okay I've got a particular scenario in my mind:

Okay, imagine post re8, when Ethan forgot about saving reader, died, then came back to life with realisation that he forgot about you, so he "saves" you but you're too pissed at him (rightfully) and tell him that as soon you get out of the village, you're moving out because you can't be around him and Mia since Rose will always be a priority for them and you can't risk losing more of your sanity and self respect.

To which Ethan says "Oh... request denied😃" and then proceeds to kidnap you and take you home, where Mia has started to realise how important you are to the smooth functioning of this dysfunctional family and agrees with Ethan about keeping you locked up in your room.

They both think that you're just acting this way because you're "a little jealous" of the attention they've been giving to Rose. And you're being "totally unreasonable" because Rose is a baby, she needs them more than you do.

It never even occurs to them that you hate them because of all the abuse they've subjected you to all these years.

They don't understand why you're being so rebellious right now? Throwing away the food they cook for you, refusing to eat anything, screaming at them to let you go, trying to break the chains around your feet.

When will this "phase" of yours end?

Mia thinks it'd be rather better if they gave you silent treatment and ignored you and your basic human needs- yeah, that'll teach you to not bite the hand that feeds you.

Ethan on the other hand, doesn't agree with that (mostly because he's incapable of ignoring you now that he's become a yandere). He thinks you just need to remember all the good times. So he goes to the store to look through some very old boxes to find your old journals. He remembers seeing you writing in them as a kid, and if memory serves him right, you still used to write in them.

Pulling out the dusty old box with your name on it, he picked out a journal and began flipping through them.

-

Hours later, Mia entered the house, only to find Ethan in the store room, absolutely bawling his eyes out.

"Ethan? Hun? What's wrong? Is Rose okay?" Mia asked, immeadiately crouching down to hold him.

Ethan just hugged hia wife, crying into her shoulder. "S-she hates us, Mia."

"What?"

"She hates us! Y/n hates us!" Ethan cried out, pointing at all the journals. Picking one up, Mia began reading them.

I hate mom. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her-

The words continued for several pages, before moving onto Ethan.

Dad- I never thought I'd hate him, but I hate him even more than mom. How could he- how could he ignore my croes for help? Am I that unimportant to them? Or just unlovable?

I hate dad, I hate him so much.

I wish he was dead. Wish they were both dead.

Mia's mouth fell open, completely in disbelief that you would say something like that. And more than one time. In fact, several of your notebooks were just filled with words of hatred for your parents.

Ethan went out for a walk, telling Mia he just cant be around all of this right now, asking her to get rid of all the journals for him. Mia just nods, her mind somewhere else.

-

While Ethan is taking a walk in the park, wondering how to change your mind about him and Mia, his wife has decided to take a different strategy to make you regret those words.

Currently, your head is being held under water as Mia flushed the toilet bowl once again.

You gasped for her air as she yanked your head up again. "You un-fucking-grateful brat! How fucking dare you wish death upon your own parents?! I'm gonna make you wish you were dead-!" She screamed as she pushed your head back in the water.

"MIA!" Ethan yelled, pulling his wife off you, as you came up, coughing up the water that got in your lungs. "What the fuck?!"

-

You're wrapped up in a towel, sitting in your room, a chain still around your foot, as you hear Ethan and Mia arguing downstairs.

Arguing over their "parental strategies" for you.

Arguing over you.

You smiled a little. You never imagined they'd ever take the time to argue or even talk about you.

And all it took was your sanity.

I just know this how they be arguing:

Mia: What the hell, Ethan?! You said you wanted to try the "good cop. Bad cop."thing!

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan: YEAH! "GOOD COP- BAD COP" NOT "GOOD COP-HOMICIDAL COP" MIA!

Mia, voice breaking because no.1 manipulator: wow, I can't believe you're saying I'm the "bad cop". Is that what you think of me?

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Consequences | Epilogue

Word Count: 1.6k~

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading this story! The interactions with you all have been great and the comments, likes, reblogs, the insight you all have into this story, it gives me flutters, so thank you all so much. I hope this Aemond dies in a hole 😙

Series Masterlist 

They say Harrenhal was haunted.

 A most wretched, cavernous place. Said to have been built brick by brick with human blood mixed into the mortar.

 Originally, Aemond would have thought these the tales of lowly peasants, with nothing better to do with themselves than to incite fear amongst one another in the pursuit of something exciting. Something to fill their dull, miserable short lives with a sense of adventure and a morbid curiosity.

 It was true, the hallways had whispers, seemingly without anyone there. A thousand different voices, all merged into one distant, unintelligible breath. Calling out to whatever living soul had even dared to step within its walls.

 It was utterly maddening.

 Aemond knew better than to believe in ghosts and deathly whispers.

 The only whispers he listened to were those of Alys Rivers, they seemed to hold the only slither of truth, as vague as they were.

 Harrenhal had been abandoned when he arrived, and it was no wonder. If he knew, sitting right where he was now before the fireplace, what this place could do to a person, he would never have come.

 But he could not have stayed there, at the Keep.

 She was there. With her scathing, judgemental stare. As if she had any right to judge him, Aemond thought, the lowborn cunt.

 He wanted to wrangle her pathetic neck for the way she spoke to him. She was older, and more sure about her words than the other maidservants and was not afraid to show her disgust for him on her face at all times. Several times she spoke above her station and Aemond was wound tight, about to snap at any moment.

 And his mother…

 She was distant. Had been since the day she had stormed into Aegon’s chambers. Not only form her eldest but from him as well.

 Her distaste for Aegon’s actions was always apparent, though she loved him, she showed it with her hand and tongue. Several times Aemond had witnessed her strike him across the face, before he was King anyway.

 But with Aemond, she employed silence as her means to show her distaste for his actions, although she had made no obvious indication that she knew what he’d done.

 It was like being a child again. Aemond hated that.

 He was a man grown and yet here he was, being chastised by women wherever he went.

 Getting out of the Keep meant getting away from not only her and his mother. But from the memories and regrets that lived there.

 The memories of her life.

 The many, many regrets.

 He had hoped that amongst her possessions, she might at least have kept a diary. So that he might at least have known her thoughts and feelings, imagining her reading them to him in her sweet, soft voice. Only to be hit with the realisation that she, amongst a lot of other maidservants, could not read nor write. So he was further doomed into the awareness of just how far up in this hierarchy Aemond really was, compared to these meek, feeble women, who would toil for their betters ‘til their last breath.

 He would even have settled for a lock of her hair. Perhaps that one that was always free of her braids at the side of her face, curly and unbending to the will of the rest of it. All he had were the memories of reaching out and touching its soft strands, running his fingers through her tresses to her skin, warm and alive.

 Gods, he missed her voice.

 Sometimes, when he was alone, staring at the flames of the fireplace as he so often was, he would think of how she had referred to him.

 Your grace.

 Only once had she called him by his name. Clearly that is. The second time he had the poor girl underneath him, thrusting up into her. Even now, he remembered her desperate whines. But she’d said it with his title in front of it. Tainted by it.

 He so desperately wanted to hear his name from her lips, without prompting her, as if it was as natural as saying her own. All the times she had, she had been forced or obliged to.

 He missed her flesh. And how utterly perfect she felt, inside and out.

 But with her passing came another realisation. That beside her position as a maidservant, he knew nothing about her. And with how much time had passed between her passing to now, he was forgetting what she looked like, her mannerisms, her scent.

 Aemond tried so desperately not to forget her face. It was like watching someone drown. Looking down into the depths of the water at their face as they sank, until the water swallowed their features in its murky void. Until there was nothing left.

 He willed it into existence.

 But it also meant having to remember what he did.

It is a small mercy she died in her sleep. In peace. So that she did not have to look upon your face. That’s what Hedi had said once.

 He thought guilt would come to him, or perhaps a form of karma. Knowing perhaps that if this war had to end, perhaps he’d have to fight or die to end it.

 He’d done his part, as his King had requested, in slaughtering House Strong and taking Harrenhal for himself. There was but one survivor of House Strong, one he found multiple uses for since sparing her life. Alys Rivers.

 As well as using her as a vessel for his desires, he often sought her ability to see visions of the future. He hoped he could tell him what his fate might be and what would await him the longer this war carried on, but his tempers were starting to flare once more when she said she could only see obscurity. Her visions were dim, without real substance nor real clarity.

 It was like being stuck in the middle of a story, without the decency to have the plot to complete it.

 The maids came and went into his chambers, knowing not to speak to him and instead doing their various duties with caution in their step. Ser Criston had said he would deal with the staff, which could only have meant one thing.

 These girls were new to the job, having been rushed to employment from their various hometowns to start their positions, but ultimately having no choice but to be accustomed to it. They were quiet at least, went about their business with a softness in their fear of the One-Eyed Prince.

 They needn’t have bothered with their fear, he thought.

 He was long disinterested.

 Since her.

 He was vaguely aware of the maidservant in his periphery, adding more logs to the fire in front of him. It was a small victory that they did not try to speak to him. Aemond twirled the written and wax-sealed scroll in his hand, between his fingers, addresses to the King on what he had done.

 Once the maidservant was finished, she stood and brushed her sooty fingers on her apron. Her hair was braided loosely down her back which spoke to just how green the staff were, that prim and proper style adopted by the Keep was clearly not something that was adhered to in other regions of Westeros.

 He opened his mouth, holding the scroll out for her to take to the messenger, until she turned around.

 Your grace.

 Those eyes.

 Those lips.

 Her hair.

 His heart was beating fast in his chest, hot whips of panic making him break out into a sweat. And before he knew it he had retreated a few paces, the chair loudly scraping against the flagstone floor, his breathing laboured and tight against his leather doublet, insides fit to burst with utter dread.

 His eye quickly flew about her face, trying to make sense of this horror that had filled his stomach. Bile started to rise in his throat. Limbs felt as if they were not his own.

 Your grace.

 She had not said a thing and only stared at the prince with shock, wondering what she had done, the surprise of him reacting the way he did made her breathe heavier.

 Every time he blinked, behind his eye, he saw what he’d seen in his nightmares.

 But it was not her.

 But someone who looked so alike to her that it terrified him all the same. The only difference was her eyes and young face, still plump with her youth and her form which was smaller and not yet that of a grown woman.

 Aemond.

 “Your grace?” the young woman had said in a quiet, fearful voice.

He wanted to vomit. Those voices that carried down the hallways of this wretched castle had all formed into her voice. All he could see was her form, drenched in her blood as he imagined she was when she had died. The blood that he could not deny was on his hands.

 No. He couldn't face it.

It cannot be.

 “Get out”

 He was not sure who he was talking to.

 This girl.

 Or her.

 She did not move. Too paralysed by his flighty reaction. Flashes of her face and the other took his vision.

 “Get. Out”

 She eventually found her courage, almost tripping over herself to scramble to the doors. Doing as he had ordered and left.

 Aemond never saw her again.

 The shame, guilt, anger was all renewed. The flames had been fanned, and he was on the pyre. Burning alongside her.

 His hands gripped at Vhagar’s reins tightly, as if all his power and control on her would fade if he were to let go.

 He thought that by doing what he did, some of that power would come back. That perhaps some of that control would be restored to him as it slipped so effortlessly out of his grasp.

 Everything was fire.

 Fire and Blood.

 There was not a speck of green that Aemond had not burned.

General Aemond Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics

Consequences Taglist: @iiamthehybrid @manitskatrina @dahlias-and-marigolds @okfashionista @the-common-cowgirl @toodlesxcuddles  @darkenchantress @magnificentdelusionr   @tinykryptonitewerewolf @tssf-imagines @mandiiblanche @xdeath-soulx  @daemonlover @iiamthehybrid @thedamewithabook @hiatuswhore @apollonshootafar @ladymarg0t @hopeless-addiction-love @leeleebabe101 @babyblue711 @croatianprincess @what-is-your-wish @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @garnetbutterflysblog @queenmizuki @tempt-ress @ithoughtulikedme @babyblue11 @qyburnsghost​ @heavenly1927​ @madislayyy​ @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @eddiemunsonsgroupie @iloveallmyboys @malynn​ @qorirah

*Bold means I couldn’t tag, if I can't tag you you can always turn on notifications for when I post. DM me if you wanna be removed besties

[poppy-metal]

i need vampire artashi where art starts to disobey tashi, doesn’t make you forget when he was supposed to and makes you lie to her about it. it starts as a trial, just too see if you’ll freak, but the weeks and weeks you’ve spent in a haze of lust and warmth and adoration from them as primed you for acceptance. they are what you want. maybe if you hadn’t been made to forget so many times, you wouldn’t be so receptive, you have even tried to run. but you were perfectly happy to be sucked dry and revived like a perfect useful sex kitten. only, you still hadn’t gotten to the sex part. this whole you remembering this was new, and art wasn’t sure if it would last. he craved you though, craved your suckling virgin hole almost as much as he craved your hot pulsing blood. to feel that heart beat, that coursing of nectar over his cock would drive him to rapture. art had learnt restraint, and could now pull back while you were still conscious, still loopy from pleasure. it was in this time that he chose to explain your circumstances to you, when you were still suggestible.

“you like it when i drink from you?”

he lay propped up on his elbow, looking at you sleepy, drained face, tracing the shapes of it with his finger. you giggled.

“you know i do.”

“does it feel good?”

“it’s the best thing i’ve felt in my whole life.”

art smiles, pointed canines only making him more gorgeous.

“it’s so obvious you’re a virgin, my love. you wouldn’t even be able to spell pleasure if i had my way with you.”

art can hear the blood pounding in your clit. your eyes twinkle in candle light.

“so why don’t you?” your words are bold, your voice is tame,“i want it so bad art. you’re torturing me.”

you take his finger with your whole hand and press it to your chest so he can feel the coursing of your blood. he closes his eyes as his dick twitches, hard as nails.

“you know how it goes. i have to make you forget. i want it to be special for you. i want you to remember when i break you open. every girl should remember the man who tore her apart.”

“you didn’t make me forget last time when you were supposed to.”

“and that was very bad of me. if tashi knew-“

“she doesn’t have to know. i can keep a secret. if you’re as good as you say, i wont be able to speak anyway. problem solved.”

he would have to mull it over. very, very tempting.

plummie you need to be locked away for this I need vampire!art to split my virgin pussy open so bad. he's clinging to his humanity through you, essentially. that human part of him who would have loved to make love to a girl and make her first time special - then there's the predator in him too. that's biting and clawing at him to just take what he wants from you, you're too defenseless to ever deny him anyway.

but he wouldn't have to force it with you - you want him. you're appealing to that soft part in him, the old art, the kind art, the human art - when you look up at him and beg him not to erase your memories - when you tell him you want him to fuck you - sliding your hands in his hair and curling around him with your warm blooded body.

hes always been weak. weak as a human and weak as a vampire too, folding to your pleas - he'll wait until tashi is out on the hunt one night - and then he'll take you to their bed - he'll splay you out and you'll be clear headed, clear headed as you watch him kiss down your stomach and lick between your legs - clear headed as he works himself back up and sinks his fangs into your breast at the same time he pushes his cock inside your virgin flesh - clear headed when you feel that pinch of him pushing and stretching you - making room in your body for him - and your blood will warm his cold body and it'll be just like your a man and a woman who are falling in love and are making love.

but you don't want to forget what he is - the pierce of his fangs inside you, reminding you of what he is - the shaking of his body with all that restrained inhuman strength - an immortal body above you and inside you, fucking you -

he lets you remember.

it's a mistake.

[clare-875]

Until the End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 18

[On the Run]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary:

"You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Seventeen] <--> [Chapter Nineteen]

_____

Warnings: Canonical Violence, Descriptions of Torture, Injuries 

You sit in a darkened room, changing out of your torn shirt before replacing it with a new one, glad to see that the cut on your arm was only shallow and had already healed into a scar. The scratch along your cheek had faded the same way as you grabbed some alcohol and a cloth, gently dabbing away at the remaining blood. We were now in a hideout in the woods, a bit away from Trost. In the aftermath of Eren and Historia getting abducted, we interrogated Dimo Reeves, a merchant who led the Reeves Company. He was the man who had captured Jean and Armin, mistaking them for Eren and Historia.

In the integration, we learned that he was forced to help the Military Police as his life and his son's life were put on the line. Levi has used this as leverage, with the proposal that in exchange for their support, we would provide protection and help in the rebuilding of Trost. He had agreed. Dimo and his son Flegel had gone and retrieved two Interior Military Police, Ralph and Sannes, who were primarily responsible for the torture and death of Pastor Nick. They had lured them here in the guise that he knew of Levi's location. Now, they were each locked in a cellar in the basement.

You sigh, stretching above your head in exhaustion; it was going to be another long night. Just as you go to the door of the room, however, it opens, and Levi walks in. He looks up in surprise, not thinking you would be present. You examined his face, and you were glad to see the cut on his forehead was clean and had stopped bleeding. "Hey, there you are [y/n]," he says as his sharp eyes skim your face, landing on the healing scar on your cheek. "Yeah, sorry to keep you waiting, Levi," you say, walking towards him, not missing the brief flash of conflict that lies deep in his eyes. "Are you okay?" you ask, concerned. If someone else had looked at him, he would have seemed like he had the same bored look he had always had. But after knowing him for so long, you could notice the slight change in expression no matter how much he tried to act nonchalant.

He looked up at you, eyes stormy and tense before he sighed. "Nothing," he muttered before his face soured. "Just seeing the old man again..." you nodded, seeing the hatred burning in his eyes. You reached up to touch his face, causing him to look up. "That piece of shit, saying all those damn things about you," Levi gritted his teeth at the memory. You smile at him, shaking your head, "I don't mind, Levi. It doesn't faze me-" Levi cut you off, "I mind," he said, frowning. You look up to see his sharp eyes and the dull light of the moon reflecting off of them. You sigh, "I don't blame you, Levi," you continue when you see the conflict in his eyes. "I was just surprised he actually knew who I was. I guess when he left the Underground, he didn't leave for good." You remember Kenny's words that he had visited; it made you shiver, thinking he was unknowingly watching the both of you in the Underground.

You let your hands fall to his hands as you squeeze them tightly. "I'm going to have to start torturing the damn Military Police soon," Levi mutters as you remember back to the two men captured beneath us. You let out an emotionless laugh at his words and hum back in reply. "You don't have to watch, you know," he says, eyes darkening, no doubt thinking of the men in the basement too. You smile before moving forward and capturing his lips briefly, his stare now soft. "I know."

.....

You lean against the wall as you see Levi tugging at his pair of gloves, ready to continue torturing the man, Sannes, in front of you; he had been at it for ages. Suddenly, you heard a door slam, and you turned, startled, only to see it was Hange who had barged their way in. "Sorry, I'm late! You're still going at it?" Levi turns, looking at Hange with a bored look in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty new to this." Hange steps forward towards the man confined to his chair, "Sannes! You should know I'm also a novice at human torture, so please bear with me!" You sigh at their disturbing words, knowing that despite Levi's constant annoyance at Hange, they complimented each other in a horrifying way. Hange reaches for some tools that were laid out before getting ready.

"Wait! What do you even want!? Who the hell tortures without asking questions?!" Levi looks up at that. "Oh, right... We do have some questions for you." You tense at the tone of his words. "Where are Eren and Historia? Why are you after Historia? What's the Reiss Family?" Hange doesn't even give him a second to answer as they scream out, "Too slow! Can't you see that we're in a hurry!?" They then yank down with a metal tool and grab a fingernail on his left hand before peeling it off. You don't know what to feel as you see them continue to torture Sannes and hear him wail. Just remind me never to get on Hange's bad side...

Hange continues to rip fingernails off until all five on his hand are gone. You resist the urge to wince as you continue to observe. "Sorry, I can't peel nails as well as you," Hange muttered to Sannes. "Just how many did you peel to get so good?" You can hear the darkness in their voice. "Too many to count," the man replies. "Within these cramped walls, do you know why war has never broken out? It's because the First Interior Squad dirtied our hands to protect the peace." Sannes looks up, face bloodied and eyes haunted. "A teacher too smart for their own good... A stupid couple who tried to fly... A whore from some ranch in the sticks... Humanity has only made it this far because we erased them!" He shouts out, tears brimming in one eye as the other remains closed thanks to the bruise from Levi's fist.

"You should be thanking us! I've never seen anyone get more pleasure out of torture than you guys! You're monsters! But I'm not even afraid. I... I have... I have the King, I... I believe in the King and peace in the walls. That all the things we've done were justified... But... To think it hurts this much... Go on and torture me to death already. That's all I ever did with this blood-stained life of mine." You grip your arms tightly at his words and silence envelops us. "Time for a break," Levi mutters tiredly as you walk to his side and out the door. "That's troubling... I'm beginning to feel sorry for him." Hange says from behind. You close the door but open a small gap once they are through.

You look up to see Levi and Hange walk with Ralph, the other man we captured. A knife pushed to his side. "You're pathetic. It only took one nail to make you talk." Levi tells the man, "Sannes has no nails left. You're nothing like him." The man then speaks as he follows a script that Hange shows him, hidden by their bodies. "Like you care? That was his decision. The guy never shuts up about peace and the King. The rest of us hate him. Do us a favour and kill him already." Levi answers him abruptly, "We're not letting it happen until he verifies your story." Hange points to Ralph's lines as he speaks up once again, "You already got what you wanted out of me. Gimme a break. Will I be getting a bed in my cell, or what?" You then see Levi and Hange pull him up the stairs and away. When you open the door as Levi and Hange return to your side, Sannes shouts his next words out defeatedly, as you know he overheard the coerced conversation with Ralph.

"Reiss is the true royal family."

…..

You think back to a few days ago when Historia told us her story. She was born on a small farm in the northern region of Wall Rose on land owned by the noble family of Reiss. Her mother had always read books, whilst Historia had helped with the farm, and every night, a wagon would take her mother away to the city adorned in fancy clothes. But when Historia learned to write and read, she tried to imitate her mother and read her books of stories where parents loved their child; so different to her own experience.

When once she had tried to hug her mother, she had pushed her away, speaking of wanting to have the courage to kill her and then had left. And then five years ago, just days after Wall Maria fell, she had met her father. Rod Reiss. Her mother was also present but frightened. However, they had been surrounded when Rod Reiss led Historia out of her home. Rod Reiss then told the men surrounding them that neither Historia nor her mother had anything to do with him. Her mother had been killed, screaming and wishing Historia had never been born. But before Historia was to die, her father had made a proposal. They could spare her if she lived a quiet life and changed her name to Christa Lenz.

Your eyes widened in realisation as Sannes went on to explain the truth to us. The true royal successor is Historia, and she and Eren are likely captured wherever Rod Reiss is. What's worse is that we later learn that Eren is to be eaten, deduced from the letter he had given Hange of the conversation between Betholdt and Ymir. Apparently, the Titans we had come to fear, the Armoured Titan, Colossal Titan, and Eren's Titan, each held a special ability, along with being able to transform back into humans. Ymir had likely been an ordinary Titan, roaming outside the walls until she had eaten one of their comrades with a Titan ability. That explained why Eren had been sought after by Reiner: to seize his Titan, which can control other Titans with its scream. Eren was a vessel bound to be replaced; if the government had a Titan of their own, he would likely be fed to it, giving them the power: The power to control the Titans.

.....

You sat against a tree next to Levi, now out in the woods, a bit away from Trost. The entire squad had been informed of the situation, and we were on our way to the land owned by Rod Reiss. Hange and Moblit had gone their separate ways as they left to meet with Erwin to consult him about the Reiss family. "Captains! We brought the supplies!" You look up to see that Jean, Armin, and Mikasa had come back from the city, bags of necessities in hand. Armin then walked up to us, giving Levi a piece of paper. "The military Police were handing these out." He says as you lean over Levi's shoulder and take a look.

Your eyes widened; the paper had accused the Scout regiment of murdering a civilian; it was Dimo Reeves. "If this is true, the Scouts will be disbanded. I heard they'll be hunting for us tonight. They're also putting guards on all the vital roads, and it's impossible to get through without a pass. Captains, what now?" Armin asked as he finished informing us of what was happening throughout the walls. "If we don't hurry, Eren..." Mikasa starts to speak before Levi cuts her off as you sense growing tension, "Calm down." You nod, looking at the two who crouched in front of you. "They're using a wagon. It'll take at least a day to reach Reiss' territory. We'll use that time to come up with a plan." The squad seemed to relax at your words before we heard Sasha speak up. "Captains, I hear footsteps. They are coming towards us."

.....

You look down from the trees seeing Armin by the river and acting as a decoy. As planned, two members of the Military approach, guns drawn at the blond boy as he puts his hands up. You nod at Levi, who stands on a tree opposite. You flash down, unsheathing your sword, as you restrain the woman, Levi restraining the man. "That's right... Hand over your guns to the one in front." Levi mutters lowly as the two soldiers are startled in our grasp as they hand their weapons over to Armin. "Not a sound," you add under your breath as the rest of the squad approaches, and Mikasa and Armin restrain the two military soldiers in our hold. You and Levi wander off a bit to the side, assessing the situation.

"Any ideas?" You ask as you look over to Levi. A brief silence takes over before he speaks, "Disguise as Military Police to get by the guards... Then, figure out where Eren was taken by snooping around. To think we'd have no better option..." You frown at him, knowing he is right. "I know it's not ideal, but we don't have time. We have to do it, or it will be a matter of time before we die," You say, looking towards the squad. You squeeze Levi’s shoulder gently in comfort before you see Jean approach, handing Levi a piece of parchment. We stand and walk towards the two Military Police who now sit, hands tied behind their back.

"Stohess District Military Police. Private Marlo Freudenberg. Same assignment. Private Hitch Dreyse." The two soldiers turn stiff at Levi's low words. "As for how we'll dispose of you..." Hitch and Marlo's faces turn into one of shock at his proclamation. "Because of you guys, over 100 people from Stohess District were killed!" Hitch suddenly yells out, causing Levi's eyes to turn to her sharply. "Huh?" But she remains stern as she continues, "You people... You might think you're all heroes of justice, but the victims and their families were dropped straight into hell!" Levi doesn't flinch, "Yeah, I know."

"You there..." Hitch now turns to Mikasa, "You're from the Southern Cadet Corps, yeah? Just like Annie Leonhart. Were you friends of hers?" Silence descends over us before Hitch seems to calm slightly, now looking to the floor as her voice starts to shake. "No... I doubt she had any friends being as gloomy and aloof as she was. It's like she was a kid afraid of other people. I never got the chance to know anything about her. And the reason they still haven't found her... is because she was pulverized by a Titan into a puddle of jelly!" Hitch turns furiously as she faces Levi and you, eyes wide with rage. You can't help but pity her ignorance; she tried not to show it, but she missed a friend who was really the enemy. "No..." you say softly, looking at her form as her eyes flashed to you for the first time, "It's because the Titan in hiding was... Annie Leonhart herself."

Now Marlo turns as well, shock evident on their faces as Hitch takes a sharp intake of breath. "Goddammit, it makes me sick," Levi says, looking to his side. "Nobody knows a damn thing about this world... Not us or anyone else. Except for those bastards at the centre of it all." You see his eyes darken momentarily as he looks back down at the two soldiers before us. "We'll release you both as soon as we get out of here." Hitch looks to the ground, still in disbelief, but you see Marlo turn to us, eyes determined. "Captain [y/n]! Captain Levi! Please let me help you! I don't think what you guys are doing is wrong! If I can help correct this world's injustice, I'll do whatever it takes!" Levi turned sharply towards the man, "What's with this guy?"

"I beg of you, Captains!" Silence descends onto us as Levi turns to you, but you see the same thoughts that cross your mind in his eyes. "We can't," you say, "We don't know how prepared you are about making an enemy of the government." You walk past him with Levi as he speaks to our squad. "Let's go. Sasha, tie them up somewhere nearby." As we walk through to the treeline, Jean speaks up. "Captains! Please let me do it." His face is unyielding, and his eyes are hard; you can't tell what he's thinking. "Knock yourself out," Levi mutters as we continue along.

However, moments later Jean had returned claiming he had tested the loyalties of Hitch and Marlo, and they had been an asset to seeking a path through a checkpoint, the least manned by the Military Police; you were grateful at the very least.

.....

Night fell as you watched Levi beat up a man in front of you. We had successfully fought through the checkpoints and kidnapped one of the men who was with the interior police. "Where are Eren and Christa?" Levi asks the man, but he merely smirks from where blood adorns his face. "Oh, you're so brave. That checkpoint back there was just recruits who could barely wipe their own ass. You think you're some sort of hero, beating them down?" Levi gets up with a bored expression on his face. "What an atrocious thing we've done. But what's more atrocious is this mouth of yours. I recommend you start talking while you're still able to use it." Levi shoves his boot into the mouth of the man, who squirms under the weight of it. "Where are Eren and Christa."

"It's no use," the man says when Levi removes his foot. "All that's left for you now is to run and hide inside these walls, covered in mud and shit! If you don't turn yourselves in, every last Scout we capture will get the noose! Starting with the one most guilty of all, Erwin Smith." At that, you step forward from Levi's side and kick him across the face before keeping your foot firmly planted on his head as he falls to the floor. Levi's eyes flicker slightly in surprise before you mutter lowly, "Answer the damn question. Where are Eren and Christa." The man starts to cry in fear as he looks between you and Levi. "I-I don't know! I'm not allowed to know! Kenny Ackerman is a very cautious man."

You freeze, seeing Levi do the same as you meet his wide eyes. You release the man from under your foot, to which he grasps at his head, still crying. "Ackerman?" Levi asks, his dark eyes turning sharp as we both look at Mikasa, who displays a similar expression. "I know Kenny... Is that his last name?" Levi's eyes continued to sharpen as the man nodded yes to his words. "It's true, there's a lot of things he doesn't divulge... especially the important stuff." you hear Levi mutter before you see him compose himself, needing answers and not the surprising new detail he had just found out. He steps forward past you and towards the man, ready to torture him again, and the man screams out in fear, but we pause at the sound of Sasha's voice. "Someone's coming from that way! More than one!" You and Levi see Sasha pointing towards the open fields. You quickly take shelter behind a tree as Levi forces the man to the floor.

"I told you, Captains, it's no use. One way or another, the Scouts will soon turn to an end!" You hear the man mutter as you grit your teeth at his words. As you look out into the fields, you see two soldiers, covered with hoods, coming towards us with guns in hand. However, as you took a closer look, you froze, seeing Levi do the same. It was Hange and Moblit. They greet us with a wave as you let yourself release a sigh of relief. Hange, however, wastes no time handing Levi a piece of paper. You and the other Scouts quickly surround him to see what's been written. "And there you have it. The coup d'etat was successful. Premier Zachary has control of the capital and administrative district. For the time being, the nobility hasn't rebelled."

Erwin's gamble worked. The gamble that when Erwin was to be sentenced to death for his crimes in concealing Eren, there would be a fake report of Wall Rose being breached; how the "King" and his officials would react determined whether Erwin should live or die. Evidently, the "King" had chosen to act in a way that would've harmed humanity, not saved it. Darius Zachery, along with Commander Pixis, had then risen up, overthrowing the fake King and his subordinates. Of course, had he reacted in a way that had helped humanity, Erwin would have been dead, but it was evident that the gamble had been worth taking.

"What about the Boss Reeves incident?" You hear Armin ask from behind you. "We got a confession that proved the charges unfounded," Hange replies with a smile on their face. "His son Flegel pulled through big time. Just like it's written right there, it shows the charges were bogus, they abused their power, and that King Fritz was a total fake. All our actions were justified in self-defence. In other words, we're free people now." You see the Scouts around you yell and cheer in happiness. They start to run around, spinning and laughing. You join in, a wide grin reaching your features as you pull your arms around Levi in glee. He pauses briefly in surprise at your actions but decides to let you be since the rest of the squad is too caught up in their joy to notice. You see his stare soften as he, meets your shining eyes; it had been a long time since he had seen you so happy.

"By the way, you may have a clue on where Eren and Historia are," Hange says, causing you to break contact with Levi as your smiling face turns into a questioning glance. You see the other Scouts also turn before coming back to our side. Hange holds out a book to Levi, "Let's get there and put an end to this battle."

.....

You sit on a wagon with Levi and Mikasa whilst Hange finishes telling us the story of the incident that happened on Reiss' territory five years ago after Wall Maria had been breached: Before the fall, Rod Reiss wasn't seen as at all bad as the lord of his territory. He had five children; Frieda was the eldest, the most down to earth; even peasants adored her. But five years ago, disaster had stuck. Bandits, using the fall of Wall Maria as a distraction, raided and set fire to the only chapel around. In misfortune, the entire Reiss family had been inside praying together. That night, all but Rod Reiss was massacred by the bandits. The incident only occurred a few days before Historia's mother was killed by the Interior Police. In other words, immediately after losing his family, Rod Reiss sought out Historia.

"There must be a reason he and his lackeys are after Historia," Hange continues as we contemplate her words. "The same bloodline? Is there some secret to their blood?" Levi asks, turning sharply to Hange. "I don't know for sure yet. But what really makes me curious is that some of the Chapel is completely wrecked. The chapel itself is stone. It would take tons of time and effort to destroy it. Bandits would take what they could and quickly get away. Plus, the only one who saw those bandits was Rod Reiss himself. Soon after, he used his own fortune to rebuild the chapel. But why?" The silence hung long before Hange continued with her next words.

"If you think about it, it's actually stranger that there were no traces of Titans. Even if I'm jumping to conclusions, something this suspicious deserves us checking it out." We agree silently as we continue on our path to the location of the church. After a long stretch of silence passes, Levi suddenly speaks up, causing the other Scouts and you to turn to him. Your eyes widen in surprise as he talks to the squad openly about the very man who raised him. "He's Kenny the Ripper. If he's there, he'll be our biggest obstacle. In terms of how much of a threat he is, equate him to you as the enemy. No... with those weapons of his, he's deadlier than me." You tense slightly at the words. Even against you and your speed, Levi would easily dominate with his strength and skill. If we were facing a man more dangerous than that and an Ackerman at that...

"Then he's unbeatable, at least for us..." Sasha mutters from her horse. "If we could meet up with the troops-" Connie starts but is quickly cut off by Mikasa, who swiftly disapproves of that idea, focusing entirely on rescuing Eren... again. "Though, if what the Captain said is true, it's not like he has no weak points," Armin says as you look up to the boy who held onto the reins of the horses that pulled us along. "I'm sure he's trained plenty, but having combat experience is something else." You frowned. It was true, but it was a stretch. "I wonder, though, how is it that you lived with Kenny the Ripper but know nothing about him, Levi?" Hange asks the man, who looks up at them with sharp eyes. "Sorry, but I only found out his full name not too long ago. Apparently, it's Kenny Ackerman. He some relative of yours?" Levi asks Mikasa, who responds after a while.

"I heard from my parents when they were alive that my dad's side, the Ackermans, were persecuted in the cities. My mother's side was oriental, so being a different race meant they didn't fit in anywhere. Both were people chased deep in the mountains near the edge of the walls. So that's how they met and got married. But I never found out why the Ackermans were persecuted. My dad didn't seem like a different race like my mom was." You think back to Levi's words to you a few days ago. The Ackermans and the [l/n] clan were once close to the crown before we were persecuted out of fear... Levi catches your eyes, and you can tell he knows your thoughts, but he decides not to share that information with Mikasa as he asks a completely unrelated question.

"Has there ever been a moment where it felt like power suddenly awakened inside you?" Mikasa looks up as you see her eyes flicker, "There has." There is a pause and a haunting silence before Levi speaks up again. "Kenny Ackerman had a moment like that, too. One time, out of nowhere, he felt an absurd amount of strength surging within him, and he knew exactly what to do." Levi stares darkly at Mikasa as he continues, "I've felt moments like that, too." 

[heartfullofleeches]

Sir, really random question, but Wich one of your Yans would have the worst reaction to reader dying?

All of them would be pretty harsh, but let's Speedrun some of the worst. (Heavy Angst. Implied cannibalism for Liu. Implied suicide for a few others)

Marshmallow Milk would fall into such a deep state of denial they would go to sleep and never wake up again, living on with you forever in their dreams

If you were killed rather than dying of natural causes, Mono would hunt for your killer and conduct inhumane experiments on them to try and bring you back. It's likely the ai/android they've been working on for when your time came is incomplete and they'll never have the chance to perfect it. The memories you shared, the notes you leave behind. It's not enough. The finished product always wrong - imperfect. A failure....just like them.

Liu either loses what little grasp of humanity they have, or steals your face and lives out their life as you. If you have a bucket list they'll do everything in the order they're listed and importance. They eat the foods you liked - forcing themselves to replace certain ingredients with human meat when their stomach can't handle the human meals anymore. Those are the nights they remember who they really are. When they remember you're gone. Liu would preserve your body for as long as they could, but at the first sign of decay they have one final meal with you. Their lack of emotions lead to them devouring you whole, but for some reason - they could never eat your heart.

As with Mono, Selene would be unable to cope if your death was not by natural cause. She blames herself the entire time - ghosts of her past and present haunting her for as long as she remained on this earth - without you.

With Daina, you'd likely die at the hands of some slasher while making your escape. She's the final girl, she'll survive, but her heart won't. Daina kills your attacker in the gorest bloodbath possible and when all's said and done she'll turn their machete on herself - waking up in the hospital a week later as the sole survivor.

V's only had one tragic loss in his life that he would count. His grandfather died on his birthday. The aunt that always sent him gifts died on her way to finally visit that faithful holiday. He was bummed, sure - but neither of those deaths mattered to him. Nobody's did, til the death of his beloved childhood friend and pet... and now you. Just like when his cat died right in his arms, V shuts down. He didn't cry then, and he won't now; but his eyes sting everytime he blinks.

He can't look at his computer. He'll think back on all the days you asked him to get off and go for a walk or decide on dinner with you instead. He can't sleep in his bed. He'll remember the first night you held him and he told you he... he... Oh, God. He never told you that did he? Not as often as he should've. Idiot. V sleeps the days away on the floor, clinging onto the only thing of yours that doesn't make him want to put a gun to his head. Your pillow. Even K drops her attitude and tries to get him to eat or even sit up for a while, but he never does.

The Rubik Cube Yans would never know peace again. If you're still breathing they'll probably be able to save you, but either way they blame each other and it's complete hell. White has to front as Blue is too emotionally shattered to go near you without crying so hard they get a headache, Yellow has used up all the bandages in their home and keeps ordering more, Red has probably cause a lot of property damage, and Green aiming to lock you in their basement never to see the light of day again

Pin hates themselves even more. They hate they weren't born a healer or even with the power of creation so they can't bring you back. Pin preserves your body as well and by the mercy of their creator their abilities are able to keep you well for centuries. They stop making dolls of their own and only make them in their imagine. They throw on the body they first met you in and have tea parties and pretend weddings with your dolls. They're never seen outside this body again as behind that smiling face is nothing but a repulsive, pathetic, cowardice creature that couldn't do the simplest job and keep their love safe

Amyas straight up just dies...or becomes an heartless abomination bent on destroying the very idea of love as humans know it... Or an incubus.

Ventri would never be able to detect themselves from the puppet they made of you, and only uses your voice from then on. Overtime their impression loses it's accuracy and the day it loses every hint of you is the day they never speak again

[flightfoot]

Do you have ML fic rec with supernatural theme? Smt like Spellbound or Bell the Cat thing perhaps?

You're in luck, I love supernatural/fantasy ML fics! I tagged everyone I know the tumblrs for, feel free to tag anyone I missed!

COMPLETE FICS:

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Dreams of You by @chocoluckchipz

Dreams had long been his only escape. Dreams of Ladybug, the girl who had always been there for him. If only in his dreams. And only while she was also sleeping. Because with the first rays of sunshine gliding over her skin, with the first fluttering of her eyelashes, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, memories of Adrien would vanish from her mind. She would go on living her life. He would always be the only one who remembered. At least until they meet in the real world and fall in love all over again, something that would’ve been easier to do if Adrien wasn't a prisoner in his own home.

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May I Introduce Myself, Your Highness? by @chocoluckchipz

Whether picking up a stray animal off the streets or saving a dying child at the market, Adrien had always strived to be the best version of himself. Truly, he would've been the perfect candidate to be snatched up by a kwami, were he an orphan, dying somewhere remote after a short life full of nothing but suffering and misery. Yet as it stood, the sole heir to the French throne had little to complain about. Apart from, perhaps, a complete absence of a love life. That is until a mysterious girl, wandering around his gardens at night, catches his attention.

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How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying And Love The Ball by @rosie-b

Hidden from the crowds thronging around the busy fairy portal in Paris's town square, a fae gate sits at the edge of the forest, locked, rusty, and full of ancient magic. Marinette thinks that this abandoned gate must not work anymore... but one day, a fairy disguised as a black cat steps through it.

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a winter so warm by @rosekasa

winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles.

december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right?

(well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn't need to know about that).

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Stitched Together by @nedjsmlfavs

Stitch Witch Marinette was just supposed to be having a nice, terrifying outing with her best friends. She never expected to find a magically trapped kitten, but here we are! Whatever happened to this poor little guy?

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The Mer-Human Race by @rosie-b

Bringing her hand closer to his lips, Adrien tried to plant a kiss on it, but Marinette pulled away before his lips could touch her.

“Save it for your girlfriend,” she said teasingly. “Or do you still not have one yet?”

Adrien smirked and crossed his arms.

“It’s a girl,” he said. “And I know her in real life. That’s all you get. Now, let’s get back to planning, shall we? We have a mermaid to beat.”

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See This Chance by @19thsentry-blog

Luka died in 2016. Yep. Crushed by the Arc de Triumph when Mayura’s Robustus slammed into it. It was kind of a big deal, but once you’re dead, you’re dead—especially when there’s no Lucky Charm to bring you back.

Luka’s been dealing with it in the typical ways.

Written for FeLuka week 2023.

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the legend of the firefly by @agnes-writes

“She’s… beautiful.

If he were to describe her, he’d say that they bottled summer in her eyes, and painted the night sky in her hair. Her lips are curved into a wistful smile, eyes trailing the thicket of trees where Adrien stands.

Her gaze sets his heart stuttering in his chest as it softens, and Adrien almost believes that look is meant for him.”

OR: A pair of lovers create a romance that transcends time, and leaves a mark like no other.

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Anchor by @liiinerle

“Marinette. Please take that sabre out of your neck.”

“Right. Thanks. I forgot it was there.” She grabbed hold of the guard and pulled; the blade slid out like it had only been run through butter. After dropping it on the floor, she picked up one of the teacups and picked up a biscuit from a tin she’d brought in; she placed the biscuit on the saucer plate and handed the whole thing to Kagami, who could only really resign herself to accepting it.

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Marinette has raised Kagami from the dead, and also happens to be dead herself. It turns out some bad choices were made in the past. But that doesn't mean they'll lead to bad outcomes for them now.

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delicate in every way but one by katrinette

When Marinette finds a wanted ad that provokes just enough questions in her mind that she can't help answering it, the reward is sweeter than she could have imagined.

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whose woods these are (I think i know) by Reiaji

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau. As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side. Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish. [Ladrien Cinderella AU]

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don't you worry child by @mexicancat-girl

Marc and Nathaniel have a good life, married and living together in a cottage in the woods. But they consider having children at some point. Marc in particular really wants to start a family with his husband. He knows the fey are real, so he goes searching in the woods to find one to strike a deal. He may get a bit more than he bargained for in the process.

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hella enchanted by @xiueryn:

Years ago, Marinette's father died and she was left with her awful stepmother. With magic forcing her to obey every command, she lived as a servant and gave up hope. When a man appears, searching for the very fairy that blessed her, Marinette decides to give life one more try. AU.

(a different ella enchanted au.)

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How Could I Not? by SorryJustAnotherPerson

In fairy tale books, Princesses were saved by nights from ferocious dragons. Those books were not their story, but Rose was happy to flip over a new page with her Juleka every single day.

Many years ago, she was put to this tower by her parents and her kingdom, along with a fire breathing dragon, so she could find her prince charming one day. How foolish for them to not calculate her falling in love with the dragon. I mean seriously.

How could she not?

Once Upon A Time by kao_rei:

"Humans fear wolves. I mean, we're horrible, sickening creatures, aren't we?" Adrien laughed.

"I don't think so," Marinette muttered. "Well, not anymore when I met you."

Marinette's days are all the same—she puts on her red cape, makes deliveries for her parents' bakery, and goes home to rest before another busy day. Adrien is a wolf-boy who watches her from afar, awaiting the day they finally meet to change their stories.

While falling in love may bring about some challenges, they're willing to fight through them together because they'd never settle for a "the end". They want a "happily ever after", too.

(In which Marinette is Little Red Riding Hood, Adrien is the Wolf, and they fall in love somewhere between deliveries, flower fields, and shiny red apples).

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life's waiting for you by @mexicancat-girl

Marc is the shy and soft-spoken Prince of the Underworld, used to being ignored at best and feared at worst. He greatly admires Nathaniel, the Prince of Nature, who’s much too out of his league. Handsome, kind, charming, and charmingly modest, with hair as red as a rose and talented artists' hands. Yearning for the love of a nature deity when he’s a deity of death is beyond ridiculous, so Marc keeps his hopes low. But an encounter at the border between the Underworld and the surface leads the two to speaking, which leads to Marc showing Nathaniel his writing and Nathaniel his art. And from there blooms a beautiful friendship…Or maybe more.

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to love beauty is to see light by sagansjagger

Young common-mer Adrien will do anything to please his father, Gabriel Agreste. Adrien will even alter his tail, that hideous thing. But the sea witch he seeks out is not who he expected. A common-mer striking up a friendship with an anglerfish-mer is taboo among mermaid kind, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng is too interesting for Adrien to just leave her alone...

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Ghost of You by its_just_iori

It finally happened. The akuma attacked at the wrong time. They weren't prepared. For the first time, there was a casualty. Someone was killed. Marinette doesn't care that her identity was exposed to the world; she can't stop blaming herself for what happened. If only she'd been ready... if only she'd done more... There's nothing for Adrien to say. There's nothing he can do other than stay by her side and help her through this pain.

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The Pink Lady: Marichat May 2018 by seasonofthegeek

In this story, Chat Noir, Carapace, Rena Rouge, Queen B, and Paon are the heroes of Paris. The Ladybug Miraculous has been lost for almost a century and it takes all of their combined power to cleanse akumas sometimes but they’ve found something that works since they don’t have another option. Hawkmoth is one of their villains, but not the only one plaguing Paris. Chat Noir happens upon an old hotel one night on patrol and discovers something and someone he didn't expect.

INCOMPLETE FICS

The Beauty of a Rose by properjitterbug

In the small town of Bellerose, Marinette and Adrien are childhood friends while secretly pining for each other. They lead happy lives until one day a long, forgotten promise is stirred awake; changing their lives in ways they couldn't imagine. With time marching on, Marinette is left to chase after ghosts of her past as a strange creature appears in the depths of the mysterious forest. Arc 1: Chapters 1-11: Complete Arc 2: Chapters 12-?: In Progress -- Werecat!Adrien x Marinette

Note: this one's M-rated for a reason.

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what worse luck by GuardianKarenTerrier

He doesn't know what happens. One minute he's struggling against the leash spell, the next he's tripping on his own momentum as the magic suddenly snaps, as he tastes freedom for the first time in- in ever, probably. Adrien doesn't stop long enough to think about where he's going or why. He just bolts. (Marinette's spell goes wildly off-target, but it's a stroke of luck for everyone involved that it does).

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fire lily petals by @fragileizy

“Do you believe in soulmates?” His little witch looks up from her mortar and pestle, setting a heavy book in front of him at the table. The weight of the textbook upsets the flame of their oil lamp enough to scatter and smudge the shadows around them, and he stares down at the page for something to do instead of looking at her glittering eyes. Of course I do, he wants to say. Of course I believe in soulmates. I believe in it every time you look at me, Marinette. It’s as true as the demonic seal that stains my chest at our contract— it’s as true as the demonic seals that burn on your ear lobes that you keep hidden with your hair at our contract. But he’s a coward. He’s nothing more than a coward. The great Chat Noir, the legendary demon who has fought countless demonic wars, who has looked at the concept of death thousands of times, helpless to the way this witch looks at him. “It’s very... fairy-tale-like. Is it not?” Part One: Chapters 1 - 20 Complete Part Two: Chapters 21+ In Progress

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Living With Dragons by @nomolosk

Stifled at home, Prince Adrien just wants to have an adventure. Accidentally captured instead of her mistress, Marinette Dupain-Cheng just wants to go home. But when you're living with dragons, things are bound to get interesting, and both of them might just end up finding something they like better. Set in the world of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede.