#walking back into the original hideaway

[aeniqmata]

look at me. you're going to be fine. || patching up wounds || @cidolfvs

The whole mission did not go according to plan. There were not supposed to be that many guards there, nor were there supposed to be wyverns or drakes of any kind here. It was a lodging for Bearers, sold and just awaiting their new masters' arrival before they head to the next hell that awaited them. But when he and Gav arrived at the stronghold... to say that hell broke loose would be an understatement.

Most of every guard was dead, Clive had seen to as much, and had left Gav to find the Bearers. Or so he'd thought, until he heard the other man's cry for assistance. No time was wasted sprinting through corridors following the sound of ringing steel, arriving just in time to interfere with what would have been a death stroke for their scout.

It was however a death toll for his armor, the strength behind the blow cutting clean through his pauldron and digging far enough into his arm to earn a hiss and a retaliatory blast of fire. It hurt, and he could hear Gav fussing over him now that there was no immediate danger.

" 's fine, Gav. " They had more immediate problems. Such as why there were so many Imperial soldiers here. That wasn't to mention the fact that... " There are no Bearers here. Were they already moved, or were we fed bad information? " Clive was more speaking to himself than he was to Gav. He knew the fair-haired man would double check all the information he got. Which meant that all of it was sound. There had been Bearers, and there hadn't been many guards.

It was only when they had emerged from the depths of the would-be-prison that he realized what it was that had happened. Though he didn't get the chance to voice it to Gav before he shouted in agony, unaware of the drake that had been waiting for them to leave. Gav's shout accompanied a roar but no matter how fast he shifted, physically or magically, he wouldn't escape the blow from the lizard that would throw him several feet, knocking him senseless enough that fighting off the thing without taking no small amount of hits.

And then... nothing. At least nothing that made sense. Feelings, smells, sounds, but nothing he could piece together. Too warm and too cold, but a warm presence under his arm and pressed to his side, another wrapped around his waist. Grumbling, about how heavy something was, how someone could help by at least moving their feet.

Copper, a smell he recognized as blood, and he was well aware that it meant very poor things. And while he didn't have much of any ability to think, he understood well enough what all of these meant, and he couldn't help but think about just how entertaining it was that he might actually die before helping Cid with their plans.

The next he knew, it was more pain. His face stung, and it hadn't hurt before hand. His ears were ringing too, but it was more... rhythmic. Repeated? Oh, a name. His name...

"...live. clive... ...ost, look at me. you're going to be fine, but i need ya to stay awake."

He knew that voice, impossibly deep and connected to a hand who knew better than to slap an injured man. But it was a command, and he would do his best to follow it. It didn't matter that the man was asking the impossible, he stayed awake as long as he could. Admittedly it wasn't long, and he could hear the long suffering sigh Cid let out before he was being moved again.

Would that he had the strength in his arms, he would have waved off the hands and slept on the floor. And when he woke, he was more than entertained when Tarja told him that was exactly what he'd mumbled before he passed out again, right before rambling off the terrifying list of injuries that she'd spent the better part of a few days trying to fix.

She claimed that it was the Phoenix's blessing from his brother that was the reason he made it back from wherever the hells they'd been to the hideaway. Clive made a mental note to buy Gav anything he wanted for a good while as thanks for hauling his dying, unconscious carcass across Storm to save what Cid had deemed a useful body.

Speaking of Cid, sitting in an infirmary bed ( strapped to it more like, he'd nearly escaped once and Tarja had all but dragged him back and threatened to break something ) and having a staring contest with the man was not really how he wanted to spend his time. But try as he might, he wasn't sure what it was he should say to the man. Never mind that the Dominant himself refused to say so much as a word in lieu of trying to summon lightning with his eyes instead of with magic.

Clive would be dead where he sat if Cid had any more control over his element.

" ... using your magic would be more effective in killing me, I hope you realize. When you've finished trying to light me aflame, could you at least tell me what you are thinking? " Humor. That should fix it right? Cid always used humor and misdirection to lighten a mood, he could appreciate Clive's attempt.

Right?

He could only sigh, hanging his head after another score of moments of silent staring. He'd be dead within a fortnight, he was sure of it. If not by Cid's hand, then perhaps Otto, or even Charon.

[kidasthings]

Echoes of Eden by Kida

Noa x Mae - #illbewithyoufromdusktilldawn

Chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751482584388829184/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Chapter 5

“I think we are being watched.”

A pair of brown eyes widened in alarm and Mae’s companion stopped mid-chew.

Mae held a single digit up to her lips, signaling for silence. She motioned up towards the branches above, indicating the problem was coming from that direction.

The one being shushed lifted his head, turned it sideways, and listened attentively.

“Hear that?” Mae whispered.

The telltale sign of talons on tree bark broke the quiet. Scritch, scritch, scritch.

The woman’s friend flared his nostrils, agitated.

Both listened for a bit more, but once the woodland symphony resumed, Mae relaxed. The small vellus hairs on the back of her neck no longer stood on end; her suspicions on the origin of the voyeur were further confirmed when she heard the distant cry of a hawk in the northern skies.

Mae reached out, smoothing her palm down her horse’s long neck. The animal began to resume chewing, head held high, ears pricked. “It’s gone.”

Biscuit let out a whuff of relief and dipped his head to the ground. He began lipping at the short grass surrounding the tree she had tied him to; the tired woman made a mental note to relocate him. Earlier, she had made a short visit to the meadow where the other horses were stationed to let Biscuit drink. The horse had readily consumed half the contents of the water basin before Mae surmised that the old idiom wasn’t holding its weight in … well, water.

Apparently, you could lead a horse to water and make him drink.

..If he was thirsty enough.

Mae untied Biscuit from the live oak and led him towards a pepper tree with long, sweeping tendrils. There was enough room on one side to provide good shade, while on the other the sun reached the earth and produced deeper, thicker grass. The human adjusted the length of the lead so her mount could access both sides, tying it off in a tree knot.

She patted his flank approvingly. “Just stay there until we can get you to the stream.”

The bay gelding merely snorted and swished his tail before presenting her with his hindquarters.

One side of Mae’s face hitched up.

It was late in the day now, and the longer shadows cast by the setting sun had her weary bones aching for some sort of relief. It would be nice to get out of her stiff, grimy clothes and take care of a few hygienic necessities. Travel never smelled good on anyone. While scouting for more water sources for Biscuit, Mae took the time to circle the perimeter of her camp and radiate outward.

She had briefly considered the lake, but that was too exposed for her needs. She needed a smaller outlet, something more private and easily accessible. Not two-hundred paces further south did she hear the soft burble of a brook, upon initial inspection. Following the sound to the southwest, she came across a small stream that further widened the longer she walked. After forty minutes or so she discovered a small falls where eddies of swirling water pooled momentarily at the top. Here the water was a little over mid-waist deep.

A perfect spot for bathing. Success.

Mae took comfort where she could; she was not one who could access a bunker or underground hideaway. Those options had been revoked once she discovered her immunity after taking up with her parents’ mission to stop a simian despot bent on acquiring old human technology. Sure, she still assisted her people who lived in the bunker near the ruins of the city once known as Los Angeles, but they would never allow her back inside.

No humans, immune or not, were ever allowed inside once they left. It was too great a danger for those living within the bunker to risk exposure.

She remained a vagabond, not part of this natural world or the sheltered one she grew up in. Mae had been sentenced to die the moment she stepped outside with her parents; their mission to end Proximus Cesear and his machinations had been ultimately successful.

For her, anyway.

Not so much for her parents. After escaping capture from the coastal ape kingdom, both had bled from their noses for many days. Soon they succumbed, destined to become mute, dumb beasts, but her father had not allowed it.

Mae could still hear the double pop of a silencer in a meadow not too far from their campsite. She had arrived far too late at their shared camp after bagging a deer for dinner.

Aggrieved, she had no time to bury them; Sylva and his hunting party started hunting her.

Mae found she had to stifle a choked sob. Shaking her head, she willed the memories to the back of her mind and shifted her recollection to more current events.

Not long after, starved and desperate, she came across an ape village and decided to steal to survive. Her stomach had turned on itself for days, her body was frozen, and she thought nothing of taking a horse blanket and some cooked fish.

And then she found Noa. Or he found her.

A ghost of a smile skated across her lips, and she retraced her steps back to the waterfall, leaving her current campsite at the edge of the village – and in Biscuit’s capable hooves.

A little reminiscing did wonders to shorten the walk, and soon she stood before the inviting pool of water at the top of the small waterfall. Mae turned in a full circle, debating just how comfortable she was with bathing.

The air was warm, if a bit humid. The forest was still filled with birdsong, and the rough rumble of the falls lulled her into a sense of safety she rarely felt anymore.

Mae removed her short jacket first, confirming the outline of the key remained in her interior pocket. Her hand brushed across Caesar’s medallion on the way out, causing her to wince.

Quickly, she neatly folded the outerwear and reached for her tunic next. It slid easily up and over her head, revealing an off-white chest binding. From there she shimmied out of her pants, slipping them off leg by leg. Beneath that was a simple, woven undergarment that was the same shade as her binding. It was said that once upon a time these things were made of softer material like cotton, but agricultural practices had been severely stunted when the last of the non-feral humans were driven underground. Other plants that grew easily under artificial light, like hemp, had taken their place when it came to creating clothing.

Tellingly, she left the medallion hanging from her neck.

Once everything was set out against a warm, flat rock, Mae took stock of her lean form. She ran a hand over a jutting hip bone, the piano keys of her prominent ribs, and the deep indent of her collarbone. Scars littered her body, some still forming from the previous few months. Beneath her untrimmed fingernails, grime collected. Mae’s eyelids lowered, a frown forming on her face.

The first step into the swirling waters felt like pure bliss. Mae sank down, eyes fluttering shut as she sat in the water with the sun-warmed boulder at her back. The water was cold, yes, but it made her feel temporarily weightless. She felt her body relax, buoyed by the strength of the current. It was not long before she was ducking down below, fingernails scratching at her scalp as she scrubbed her greasy hair.

No soap, but she did her best to improve upon hygiene with what was available. She scrubbed at her skin furiously with sand from the streambed, starting with her arms to the very tips of her toes. When she resurfaced with a great gasp of air, a fluttering of wings not a few feet away alerted her to the fact she was no longer alone.

Mae’s eyes rounded out in their sockets, then normalized when she realized it was Noa’s eagle, Sun. He perched on one of the low stones edging the opposite side of the stream, cocking his head at her as if he might deduce the reason for her impropriety. Mae bit her lip and splashed at the bird half-heartedly.

“Go bother someone else,” she said, effectively dismissing him. She propped herself up against the rock at her back, upper arms spread out with elbows at right angles, forearms pointing down. She shook her wet hair, sending water droplets scattering in the air like iridescent prisms.

The eagle hopped forward a couple of times, shifting his head so that he gave Mae a side-eye.

She returned it, then laughed a little. “Did he send you here to spy on me?” she asked, feeling a rare moment of levity.

The eagle opened his beak.

“Yes.”

Mae spun around in the water.

Now at her back, Sun hissed and took to the air. Noa stood on the grassy bank before her, so close she could see the amusement in his expression. He held out his arm, and his bonded eagle alighted there, wings unfurled for balance.

“Noa!”

Noa said something in muted tones to the bird on his arm. Sun ducked his head, puffed his feathers, and nipped warningly at Noa’s closest ear before leaping off the ape’s arm. He became airborne quickly, swooping past a stunned human woman still partially concealed in the stream. Gaining height, he was soon lost to the clouds.

Noa watched the bird until he was nothing but a small dot in the sky before relaxing both shoulders and approaching Mae with open curiosity. Her discarded clothing did not escape his notice; the brunette, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten she was only partially clothed until that last, terrible second.

“T-Turn around!” she stuttered, dropping to the deepest part of the pool. She made a spinning motion with her hand to illustrate her request, the other strapped firmly over her chest.

To Noa, a creature that did not burden himself with the concept of nudity, the entreaty was odd indeed. “Why?” he asked, frozen mid-step.

“I-I don’t have my clothes on! It’s not right,” Mae informed him impatiently, making that circular motion with her finger once more in the air. “Turn around.”

Noa looked exasperated, but also intrigued. For the first time he glimpsed Mae without clothing, save for a few scant pieces. She was oddly designed, especially for an ape: the human female sported two prominent mounds on her chest that remained there without the need for lactation, a hairless body with pale, soft skin easily cut like the underbelly of a fish, and a strange, flat face. Other oddities included the long terminal hair growing from her head, the lack of a rounded, pink rump that signaled estrus, and short forelimbs on vertically statured body.

She couldn’t climb, wasn’t very strong, and her small, flat teeth didn’t allow much room for eating tough meat.

She was so unlike an ape that he could only come to one possible conclusion.

Mae was ugly.

And yet –

..she wasn’t.

There was something hypnotizing about her large, crystal blue eyes and her animated features. Each expression was more generous than the last, conveying most of her emotions all too clearly. This was not as easy on one of his kind, whose features were less mobile in quality. It captivated him, repeatedly, trying to read the minute moods that drifted over her countenance like cumulus clouds on a windy day.

There was a grace in her. Not unlike that of a deer, her long legs allowed her to move with a fluidity none of his people possessed.

There were other qualities that he found admirable, too. She was intelligent, frighteningly so, and the depth of that intelligence was still a mystery to be solved. Despite her ever-changing face he could not always decipher what she was thinking, or what she might do next. She was a conundrum. He could trust her in some things, but not in others. She had saved Soona’s life, but then endangered all of their lives. For Raka she might have laid down her own. Would she do the same for him?

What did it all mean?

Puzzled and deeply uneasy by that dangerous line of thought, Noa turned away. He heard Mae step out of the water and imagined the water sluicing down her hairless body as she stood.

Behind Noa, Mae shook out her clothes with trembling fingers and hurriedly dressed. She had not expected him to find her here, not in her wildest dreams. Grimacing, the human woman removed her soaked chest binding and tossed it on the drying rock before she pulled on her tunic and jacket. Double-checking on the presence of the hidden key with a quick pat, Mae kept her piercing eyes on Noa’s furred back as she stripped out of her wet underwear.

Noa began to turn back around.

“HEY!” Mae shrieked, one leg in her trousers as she hopped awkwardly on the other.

Noa jumped, but obediently (and quickly) turned his attention back to the tree line.

It took a few more minutes, but Mae eventually got her pants up and secured at her waist before she collected her wet bindings. She hated being naked beneath her clothing, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

“You can turn back around,” Mae stated crisply.

Noa shook his head, turned, and shot her a small, gentle smile.

Mae found her mouth run dry.

“Uh,” she began intelligently, “what are you doing here?” She could feel her heart rate pick up, running a breakneck race with the thoughts galloping through her head.

“Sun,” Noa said, pointing to the darkening navy blue above them. “He led me … here. Are you … alright?”

“Of course.” The reply was brusque, and inwardly Mae winced when Noa looked taken aback by her tone. “I mean, I wanted to get clean.” She motioned sheepishly at the stream.

Noa nodded, swallowing. Despite the fur covering his throat, she could see his version of an Adam’s apple bob a couple of times.

“Are you sleeping … out here?”

Mae found herself dropping her eyes to the ground before her. She smiled wistfully. “No, I’m staying at the edge of camp, near my horse.”

Noa opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead he looked away and switched tactics. “Come,” he told her simply, motioning over his shoulder for her to follow as he started heading for the forest. “I will … walk with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Noa,” Mae said, a little annoyed that he thought her unable to find her way home. She clutched the damp bindings to her jacket, transferring the wetness there. That only served to annoy her further, so she made a sound of frustration that had Noa glancing back over his shoulder with a raised brow ridge.

She shook her head at him, motioning for him to lead the way. He did, and the two advanced back to the game trail that led to the edge of the stream. They walked quietly through the woods, fireflies winking in and out of existence like dying stars. The crickets and frogs began to sing, a mulled chorus that accompanied them on their journey. A fox ran across the trail before them, a flash of red that dove beneath the underbrush. It was such a clear, pure night that Mae could not help but to take in a deep, steadying breath. Noa moved ahead of her, not too far, and she took the time to examine him from behind.

He was such an anomaly, really. Mae didn’t know many personalities as altruistic as his. No, scratch that, she knew of no one as selfless as he. It was an undeniable dichotomy, that unselfish nature found in none other than an ape rather than a human being. It had her questioning the best and worst qualities in her own species, comparing them against him, a monkey.

And yet, not.

Mae could not consider Noa conventionally attractive in any sense, not with that low brow, flat nose and body coated in thick hair. She could not understand her body’s reactions to him whenever he was near, the heightened heart rate and awareness that made her want to lean closer. It was terrifying, those reactions, and more than a little deviant.

Shit.

She couldn’t be attracted to an ape, surely. It had to be his giving nature, the security and trust he so blindly offered repeatedly that drew her like a moth to a flame.

She looked up to him and valued noble qualities that were hard to come by in a world where humanity had fallen. It was as simple as that.

Mae tipped her head to the side, a fall of dark, damp hair falling over one shoulder. Overhead, the dark shape of a nocturnal bird spread its wings and soared over them both. She swore she could hear the hoot of an owl.

Chewing her lower lip in contemplation, Mae concluded that she was just too tired to be considering these abstract, impossible thoughts.

After all, humans and apes were not the same. Humans and animals did not mix, no matter how smart they were. Noa was other, another species, and she should not be humanizing him.

Noa slowed down now that they were closer to the village. “You can stay … with me … in case of rain?” he offered, pointing upwards.

Mae saw no clouds, but his offer threw her off.

“You want me to stay with you?”

“It is safer … than outside in the woods.”

Mae chewed the inside of her cheek. It would be nice to be out of the wind and elements. Without realizing it, she blurted, “Okay.”

Noa gave her a tight smile, then made a motion with his hand to divert left.

-And Mae was left standing there, adrift like a buoy at sea, unable to understand why she was the beast and he the beauty.

Notes: Last preview chapter to be posted to Tumblr! If you want regular updates, please read the story over on AO3: Echoes of Eden - Chapter 1 - Kidasthings - Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

[cryptictongues]

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece. 

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same. 

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock. 

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

-

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time. 

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield. 

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.” 

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.” 

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures. 

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end. 

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.  

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick. 

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look. 

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.” 

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath. 

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.” 

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.” 

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.” 

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own. 

“May I try something?” 

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him. 

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.” 

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

-

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it. 

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood. 

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him. 

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.” 

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him. 

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-” 

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you. 

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?” 

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him. 

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic. 

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt. 

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you. 

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.” 

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses. 

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds. 

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers. 

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself. 

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way. 

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman. 

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone. 

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment. 

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?” 

“Anything for you, my dearest.” 

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

[echantedtoon]

Househusband Upper Moons: Kokushibo

(This is inspired by @rottencoreflesh101's Househusband Upper Moon posts. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with AND is only for 18+ folks. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did link to the post in question down below. If enough people like househusband Kokupuffs drabble I'll do a second one based on their headcannons of Househusband Gyutaro. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Househusband Upper Moons Concept- @rottencoreflesh101

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Original Post:

The thunderstorm I'm the distance between the roof and sky haunted the eardrums as the storm drew ever closer in the darkness.

There truly was nothing but the warmth of the small fireplace within the cozy small house in the middle of the woods. A cozy small hideaway nobody knew about but himself and a select few individuals. It would shield him well from the harsh elements and keep him safe and sound from the outside. It was his own little safe haven. Just himself to worry about now.

The bubbling pot of soup on the stove wafted in waves making even the most stuffed person desire to eat it as he smelt it. A hum of satisfaction left his throat as he nodded and let go off the soup ladder after stirring it a few times. This would surely last a few days. Cooking enough food to last a few days was always good. Having leftovers only meant you didn't have to cook over a hot stove for a good while. It left time to focus on other things. Speaking of other things- Multiple eyes turned to the door as thunder drew ever closer and closer judging by the sounds in the distance. Now where was she?

She should arrive back any minute now. After all her workplace wasn't that far from here, and it was simply only a matter of walking and returning to the home. Strong hands wiped themselves on a nearby cloth he slipped from the countertop and removed the remains of elk blood from his hands. The rest of the body that couldn't be used would have to be disposed of later otherwise wild animals would be coming up to the house and wondering the garden and animals. No. He couldn't have that. A fox already made off with one of his wife's chickens she'd be upset if it happened again. As if on cue, his head immediately perked up at the distant sounds of approaching footsteps small and dainty. A smile grazed his mouth and his head turned to the door in wait as the footsteps approached closer and closer. The door slid open after the footsteps paused a brief moment outside of the house.

"Ah. Welcome home little lamb," a man's voice greeted smiling widely at the figure of the woman walking inside. "You've arrived...just in time for dinner."

You smiled from the doorway slowly and moving to take off your sandals. Your feet sore from the long walk to town and back where you worked for a company making clothes to then be shipped to various places across the country. Your feet were sore from walking so much, your hands sore from threading the needle for hours, and your body aches with tiredness from a long day. Upon walking into the house your senses were hit with the beautifully delicious smells of meats, fried potatoes, and a few other things. You were only free of your shoes for more than three seconds before someone much larger was standing over you. Six eyes met yours-

A pair of lips met your temples. "How was ...work?"

You smiled up at your husband. Usually someone would be pretty intimidated by a six foot something demon with fangs and six eyes staring down at them so closely like this, but you couldn't see it. Especially when he wore the cloth around his head keeping most of his hair from his face and the large apron drapped over him. He looked very alluring and domestic. 

"It was business as usual. Im sure I pricked my finger more times in one day than you've swing a sword in your entire lifetime."

"I doubt that." 

"Smells good. What's for dinner?"

"Elk stew. ..I caught it just early this morning." Ah. Most likely when the sun wasn't up yet and you were still asleep. A strong arm pulled you forward into the house and the door was closed. "Eat. Your body's strength... needs to replenished with rest also."

You didn't fight it and only leaned into his touch. "Sounds great. Aren't you hungry though?"

"My hunger shall be... quenched within an hour." Which translated to him waiting for sunset to hunt for his normal food source. "Did you...have a pleasant day?"

You nodded sighing. "Just a bit tired. Big orders means lots of work, but it's my fingers that really hurt." Your hands flexed as you pouted remembering all the times you pricked yourself today. 

A much larger hand grabbed the smaller one bringing it to the demon's eyes. Six orbs examined them closely before a gentle kiss was placed onto the skin. "If your hands are sore....then I just might..have to feed you..myself."

"N-No you don't." Despite it he chuckled deeply and making your own face red. "I can still take care of myself."

"If you insist...Now sit and rest... Your body needs it."

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

I feel like the above image needed to make a comeback for this part. Tehehe. Special thanks of course to @cinetrix

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

PART WARNING: Contains mentions of childbirth

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

~

Part 12 - The One After Iknimaya

Niwan Loreyu was just as beautiful as Xilä remembered. 

The moment they stepped through the vined wall she felt the calming waves of that familiar feeling of being hugged lovingly. 

Eywa. 

Scanning the scenery before her, Xi squinted when she noticed a few new and somewhat out of place items littered around the small area.

“What’s-” she started, but Neteyam simply pulled her along until they drew nearer to the far right corner where there sat the base of a massive, thick tree trunk- its branches not visible since it grew out of the hideaway. 

“Is that my satchel?” she asked, confused, noting it along with a couple others hanging from the trunk. 

Stepping away from him, she surveyed the area properly, lighting up as she did. 

Connected to the trunk and the side of a wall of strange vegetation, was a lush canopy of beautiful flowers. A large soft pelt was spread underneath it, creating a romantic and intimate looking bed. Xi even spotted a few stolen blankets from her own bed back home, rolled neatly at the edge of the pelt. 

Turning around, she saw a basket filled with a few little pots and washcloths which was placed on a rock by the pool of rippling water. 

A small wood crafted folding table sat nearby with two patched cushions as seats- one on either side of the table. And in addition to the glimmers of the bioluminescent plants and the on and off blinking of flying glowbugs, there were tiny lit lamps scattered across the space. 

“Neteyam?” she asked, turning to him with a sweet but curious smile. 

He scratched his temple sheepishly. “I was um, hoping we could maybe stay a few days? Just the two of us, spending time together? I don’t think one night alone with you is enough for me honestly,” he admitted quietly. “But only if you want to of course,” he added quickly. 

She stared at him. He was shy right now and it was honestly the cutest thing ever. 

“What about food?” she asked in faux seriousness, enjoying the way he was all squirmy at the moment- a far cry from his usual self assured disposition. 

He pointed to one of the hanging satchels. “Enough for hopefully a week,” he said. “And we’ve got drinking water,” he continued, gesturing to the small trickling waterfall. 

“Bath,” he said, walking over to the pool, showing her the soap balms and washcloths. “Bed,” he added, jerking his head to the pelt under the canopy. 

“And if we get bored, which I highly doubt we will, I packed a few games as well. I even borrowed a deck of UNO from one of the lab guys,” he finished with a tiny smile, tail wagging behind him, seeming eager to know what she was thinking. 

“Wow,” Xi said, impressed. “What about clothes?” she asked, trying to prolong her teasing.

His brows narrowed as if he realized what she was doing, so he turned the tables on her instead. “They’re in your satchel, but I don’t think you need them since I’m planning on keeping you naked the entire time,” he said matter of factually. 

“Right,” she replied with burning cheeks. “Um, one last question. Did you ah- tell our families? Sal and Jxo aren’t going to show up thinking you kidnapped me are they?” she joked. 

“No.” He laughed and shook his head. “There’s a big trip planned for tomorrow, you know the one Lo’ak was boasting about last week?” 

She nodded, remembering how excited her friend was about finally getting a vacation.

“They’re leaving tonight, maybe after the party- spending a week away near an old RDA base. It’s um, kind of a secret tradition to take the new recruits out to bond a bit, but it’s really just an excuse for the warrior’s to get drunk and let loose for once.” 

Xi shot him an amused look. 

“Anyway….uh, our families may be under the impression that I’m surprising you and taking you along on the trip with the others. So we’re free to stay here…none the wiser. Lo’ak. Um, he'll cover for us.” 

“Sounds like you have it all figured out….” She bit her lip, feeling herself practically swoon at the sweetness of the man in front of her. “Teyam this is all incredibly sweet. I love it…Thank you,” she whispered. “When did you even plan all of this?” 

Having enough of their distance he moved towards her, eyes gleaming with intention. Titling her chin up, he leaned forward to trace his lips over hers. “Since the moment you agreed to be mine, Xilä.”

And then he was kissing her, feverishly, demandingly, soul sucking, breathtakingly. 

Xilä gasped when he bent her backwards, taking from her what he wanted. He pulled away too quickly for her liking, but then he was suddenly scooping her up from under the thighs and his lips were back on hers again. 

Xi squeezed her legs into his sides while her arms twisted behind his neck as they kissed with abandon, tongues and teeth clashing unceremoniously. 

Neteyam blindly walked towards their canopy, his footsteps illuminated with every step against the soft mossy flooring, until he reached the pelt. 

Keeping her enclosed in his arms he kneeled, then sat back, settling her into the cradle of his folded legs. He broke their kiss and nuzzled her cheek, lovingly caressing down the column of her neck with his nose and lips as she sighed against him. 

“I love you,” he said into her skin, so quietly she thought she imagined it. 

“I love you too.” 

Sitting straight, he reached behind and grabbed his queue, bringing it between them. Xi followed and did the same, watching, entranced as the pinkish tendrils revealed themselves. 

Neteyam’s eyes darted between hers for a fleeting moment, quickly checking for that final sign of confirmation and Xilä’s free palm soothed down his chest in response.

Eyes locked on the ends of their queues, they made Tsaheylu. Tendrils entwining, they glowed in unison, joining as one. 

Pupils blown wide, they inhaled simultaneously, consumed by the rush of emotions filling them- both in awe by the intensity of each other's feelings.

They remained still for a moment, enthralled by the connection. 

Xilä smiled up at him. Then, pulling him towards her by the nape, she kissed him, slowly. She tried to look into his eyes when they broke apart but he averted his, choosing instead to lick a path down the soft of her skin, tasting and savoring the feeling of her in his arms. 

Laying her onto her back, Neteyam followed, continuing his feast as he lapped and kissed his way down her clavicle. 

Xi purred, absorbed by his affections. 

She let him undress her, smiling when he nipped her ankle after he’d removed her extravagant anklets. Her hips jumped when he playfully tested the pool of liquid between the valley of her thighs after removing her skirt and undercloth. And when her top was gently pried away, he tasted each of her dark blue hardened nipples, just because. 

When she was completely bare, he sat back and stared unabashedly. He took his time, gazing appreciatively at her soft but toned lines- her months of training, hard work and proper nutrition was clear as day. 

A heated flare of raw deep rooted possession filled him and Xilä gasped almost inaudibly when she felt it through their bond.

The longer he stared the deeper her blush turned. Her dark spiced coloured hair looked almost as black as his tonight, and her once overly pale dusty blue skin, now had a healthy and darker hue to it from all her days in the sun. 

She was breathtaking. 

Sitting up on an arm, Xi tugged on his loincloth and he complied, quickly undoing the tie to fling the cloth away, along with his belt and knife holder. 

Now it was her turn to stare. Almost impossibly, Xi’s blush ran even deeper. Biting down on her bottom lip she peered up at him with an innocence mingled with a wanton neediness.

“Um, this might be a really stupid question,” she whispered, sending another somewhat nervous glance down to the hardened appendage currently sweeping along his lower abdomen. “I’ve been wondering for a while, but we’re here now so…I kind of need to ask…um, will it…fit?” 

Pushing her completely onto her back once more, he hovered over her and grinned against her lips. “Yes,” he assured as he slipped a hand between her legs to cup her. “If I do it right.” 

She gasped into his mouth when two of his fingers instantly slid into her, curving with a pleasurable pressure. 

Neteyam used his tail to nudge her thighs further apart, allowing more room for his working hand and throaty noise filled the air when he sped up his pace. 

Xilä’s moans were like music to his ears as she rocked her hips against his fingers. 

“Neteya- mmm, shit.”

In quick succession and with a single circle of his thumb to her clit, she was clenching around his fingers and coming with a breathy sigh. 

“Good?” he asked, withdrawing his hand to suck his fingers clean.

“Good,” she echoed, feeling her body tingle and relax from the orgasm he’d given her. 

His fingers were back now, dipping between her folds, pressing against her entrance. All three, thick digits were sheathed inside her this time, slowly stretching her with every stroke and curl. 

“More,” she begged. “More. Please Teyam.”

Greedy for more, Xi took matters into her own hands. She reached between them and gripped him causing him to gasp in shock and bite down hard on the breast he had just sucked into his mouth. 

“AH!” she yelled, arching in pain, making her accidentally tighten her hold on his length. 

“FUCK!” he grunted, in not only surprise but mostly from the sudden pressure on his poor dick.

Groaning out loud, he sucked in a breath of air, screwing his eyes shut when she began to stroke him. 

Fingers barely meeting her thumb, Xilä began to move her hand up and down the way she often saw him do. She peered down between them, loving the feeling of him all hot and hard and heavy. She glanced up at him with a grin, the same time he glared down at her with flaring nostrils. 

But then he was quickly averting his eyes from hers and her fun was halted when his sticky coated fingers suddenly tugged her bandaged wrist away. 

“Fuck,” he muttered again with closed eyes and a clenched jaw- straining to gain control of himself as he breathed heavily. 

“Are you okay,” she asked, trying to push him back to see his face. He looked pained and a pang of guilt clouded her when she figured she must have done something wrong.

“Mm. Yeah just give me a minute, baby.” 

“Alright,” she hushed, palming his biceps in comfort. 

Xilä could feel the push and pull of his raging emotions…but then, eyes narrowed on the man between her thighs, something else occurred to her. Lips parting to say something, a little noise escaped her when three fingers entered her once more without a word. 

“Neteyam,” she called, but he ignored her, choosing to focus on the squishing mess between her legs.

Doing her best to stay immune to the delicious pleasures quickly consuming her, she pushed at his chest. “Neteyam, look at me,” she said. 

He glanced at her for a fraction of a second before finding her breasts far more interesting, leaning down to sooth his tongue over the deep indents he’d made on the right one. 

“Nete-yam,” she tried again, voice breathy and strained and pleading. 

“Hmm?” he hummed in faux interest as he curled his fingers deeper. 

“Why won’t you- f-fuck!” she stuttered out when he found that one particular spot inside of her, but she stayed strong. “Why won’t you look at me?”

“Leave it, Xi.”

She didn’t like his response, so she tried a different tactic. 

“Eyes, Neteyam,” she ordered, causing him to freeze. A frustrated mewl left her when his fingers stilled too, she was so close to coming. 

“I can’t,” he said, almost as if he were mad at himself. 

“Why not?” she asked, biting her cheek to stop from laughing at his stubbornness. “Tell me why you can’t look at me in the eyes, handsome.”  

“Stop,” he warned.

“Unless…they're bothering you?” she teased in a sing-song voice. “Are my eyes too mu- AH SHIT!” 

He had effectively shut her up by grinding the heel of his palm on her clit while rubbing right against that one particular spongy spot again. 

“Come for me, Xilä,” he ordered.

Her breath hitched and Neteyam smirked against her collarbone when he felt her tensing up. 

Fire licked her inside out as a coil tightened low in her abdomen. Xilä’s thighs quaked and her back bowed, then a sharp cry ripped from her lips as she gushed all over his hand. 

More than pleased with himself, he helped her through the waves, whispering words of praise into her pointed ear. 

“Good?” he eventually asked once again, checking in on her as the pads of his fingertips rubbed her along her swollen folds.  

“Good,” she replied with a happy hum. 

Feeling his movement, Xi looked down to see him slathering his shaft with her slick- the arousing sight alone brought back that flickering coil in her lower abdomen to life once more. 

“I’ll go slow, alright?” he assured, when he caught her staring. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

She nodded. 

“Baby.”

“Yes. Yes, okay,” she said quickly, giving him the verbal confirmation he was seeking. 

She inhaled deeply when she felt him plunge his fingers into her one last time for good measure before pulling out to guide his tip to her entrance. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” he soothed, feeling her nerves through the bond. “Don’t tense up.” It was a hypocritical thing to say he knew since he was nothing but tense.

Xilä forced her muscles to relax. She winced when he gave that first push forward, he was much thicker than all three of his fingers combined so it was a bit of a squeeze. 

“Fuuuck,” Neteyam breathed.   

Xi squirmed uncomfortably at the foreign sensation, holding in a whimper at the slight twinge of pain. While Neteyam, although extremely tense and raging to keep control of himself, took his time to ease his way in- slowly stretching her, molding her around him to perfection. 

Dragging, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out.

He’d only pull out just enough so that his tip still kept her entrance open, before delving back in- each time, deeper than the last. 

Xilä’s jaw fell open when he was finally fully seated inside of her.

“Oh Eywa. You’re so deep,” she said in awe, struggling to control her breathing. Fingers creeping downward to rest on her lower abdomen, she gasped. “I can feel you. Right here,” she said, showing him the slight bulge. 

It took a few moments for her to adjust to having him inside of her, but once the slight pain turned into a dull tingle, Xilä couldn’t help but marvel at the feeling of their connection. 

It was incredible. 

“Fuck, fuck. Xilä I can’t. I need to move. Please. I need-”

“Take me,” she said, giving him the okay. “Make me yours.”

Xilä grunted from the first slam of his hips. She gasped with the second and moaned loudly at the third. 

And then Neteyam was wild and relentless. Her breasts shook with each roll, each rut as he growled into the skin of her neck. 

Palms flat against his back, her nails dug deep into his flesh.

It didn’t take very long for her to feel the familiar spring inside of her come to life again, twisting and turning, coiling tighter each time as it prepared to snap- to break, to explode. 

“Shit. I’m going to come,” he cried hoarsely, feeling her clenched firmly around him, locking him in a sweet but tortuous grip.  “Are you close?”

“A-Almost,” she panted.

Sneaking a hand between them, Neteyam worked his fingers against her swollen clit, quickly drawing her closer to her impending rapture.

Eyes rolling, toes curling and body quivering, Xilä screamed his name. What felt like an eruption of molten fire, began to spread through her body like never before, sending rippling shockwave after shockwave. 

Breath erratic and wild, Neteyam chased after her, cursing when his entire body turned taut. He twitched inside of her as hot spurts of come filled her, groaning when her walls continued to pulse, practically milking him of everything he had. 

“Oh fucking hell, Xilä,” he rasped, collapsing completely on top of her with an awed laugh. 

“Oof! ‘Teyam! I can’t breathe!” Xilä exclaimed with a breathy laugh that instantly turned into a wince when he shifted, his pelvis dragging along her already throbbing clit.  

“Sorry,” he apologized, gently easing up onto his forearms as he caught his breath.

“No, I didn’t mean go away,” she protested, locking her propped up thighs to his hips and capturing his cheek in her palm. 

Xilä smiled. “You’re looking at me now,” she teased, loving the intimacy of him still fully sheathed inside of her as his eyes bore into her soul. 

“How do you feel?” Neteyam asked, gaze soft on her as he drew a palm down to caress the skin of her thigh. 

There were remnants of a dull twinging ache between her thighs but the bliss Xi was feeling at the moment countered it all.  

“Like I want to do that again soon,” she answered with a purred hum, eyes closed as if in pure ecstasy. 

His eyes darkened at the sound of her voice and he felt himself begin to harden again. “I think I can make that happen,” he said, surging down to steal a kiss. 

~

Later that night, after a few more rounds of intense lovemaking, Xilä was exhausted. 

She had had a long day after all. 

After Iknimaya, there was the ceremony and feast. Then there was the pairings festivity where she danced to heart’s content followed by a slew of the most brain numbing orgasms she’d ever experienced. 

So suffice to say she was completely beat and extremely sore. 

“Hey, no sleep just yet sweetheart,” Neteyam called softly, rousing her from her doze. 

“Teyam,” she whined unhappily, when he pulled her to sit in front of him, jelly thighs draped over his as their still connected queues draped beside them. 

Neteyam stretched to the side, producing a little pouch he had stashed away, and Xilä, too tired to even be curious at what he was up to, slumped into his chest, cheek finding a comfortable spot to rest. 

“How do you feel, Xi?” he asked, lifting her hand to unwrap her compression bandage. 

“Sore,” she rasped, voice scratchy since she’d done a lot of screaming that night. “But not bad,” she answered with a yawn as she cuddled further into his warmth. 

Moving quickly and with precision, he treated her bruised wrist with the balm his grandmother had given him, clenching his jaw to contain his bubbling anger at the sight of the ugly marks still there. 

When he finished, he rewrapped her wrist with a new bandage. 

“Back up, baby,” he said gently, pushing her off his chest. “Drink,” he ordered, handing her a vial of pain tonic before stretching over for a water skin and making her drink half of it in one go too. 

“I love it when you do this. It makes me feel all fluttery inside,” she admitted through squinty eyes after a gulp of water. 

“Do what?” he asked, unable to keep the grin off his face at the sight of her sex mused hair, kiss swollen lips and soft sleepy expression. 

“Take care of me.”

“Oh yeah?” he hushed out, feeling himself melt at her confession. “Well I’m all yours now, Xi. You’ve locked me down. So I’m going to be taking care of you for the rest of your life.” 

“Sounds terrible,” she sassed in mock sarcasm while simultaneously swooning on the inside. 

Neteyam laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” she mumbled with a grumpy frown. 

“Nothing. You’re just really cute when you’re half asleep,” he said, taking the water pouch from her hands and guiding her to lay down.  

Hydrated and unable to keep up any longer, Xilä was asleep within seconds. 

Quite tired himself, Neteyam stretched out alongside his wife and pulled her into his arms. 

His wife. 

Shit. 

How’d he get so lucky? 

He peered down at her, eyes tracing over her relaxed features. He could feel her calm through their still connected bond. It washed over him, subduing him into a lulled trance, until he too drifted off. 

~

“You’re kidding!” Xilä snapped with an angry scoff. “But they were the assholes that started it in the first place! They were picking on Kiri! Why did you guys have to apologize?”

Neteyam smirked up at his gorgeous mate. She was seated on top of one of the nearby boulders, removing the tangles from her clean damp hair with a whittled comb while he continued to relax in the warm rippling water after their shared bath. 

“Dad’s orders,” he shrugged. “We were the ones visiting their clan, so it was our responsibility. Dad had warned us beforehand that we had to be on our best behaviours and in his eyes since Lo’ak struck the first punch, it was on us.”

“Well that’s just stupid. You were their guests. They should have been more welcoming and not judgmental little assholes,” she said defiantly.  

“It’s in the past anyway,” he said, more for her comfort, seeing the flicker of her protectiveness begin to spark and enjoying it way too much. “We were just all idiot teenagers back then,” he smiled. 

“Well,” she sniffed, “if I ever come across this Ao’nung and his skxawng friends, I’ll be sure to give him a piece of my mind,” she said, combing the strands a bit harder than before. 

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam teased, getting to his feet to close the short distance between them. 

With her seated on the high boulder, they were at eye level now. “Don’t talk too soon sweetheart, you might just get your chance,” he said, spreading her thighs so he could slot between them. 

“W-what do you mean?” Xi asked, slightly distracted, swallowing hard at the sight of water droplets rippling down her husband’s delicious build. Eyes swooping lower, she sucked in her bottom lip with a deep inhale. 

“Dad’s got a few talks in the works. Majority of the well connected clan leaders are looking to get together for a meeting sometime early next year. They want to create a network- more trading, better and easier communication methods, cross training and sharing of knowledge, just an all round discussion of change for the future ahead.”

“Wow,” Xilä said awed. “But wait, how will that give me a chance to speak to Ao’nung?”

“Tonowari, the Metkayina’s olo'eyktan, offered to host the meeting at his clan...I'm going to be in attendance, and I’d love it if my wife were at my side,” he said, tucking a strand behind her ear. 

“She would be honored,” Xilä whispered, smoothing her hands down his chest to palm at the panes of his abdomen. 

Dragging her forward until she was seated at the edge of the rock, Neteyam kissed her. Pulling his queue over his shoulder, he broke their kiss and jerked his head, gesturing for her to do the same. 

Tsaheylu made, Neteyam fucked her right there. He made her come twice before allowing himself to follow, filling her full of his seed, fingers reaching down to make sure she was stuffed with every last drop. 

It was already their fourth day of marital bliss and every single moment had been incredible so far.

Xilä was a fucking dream and Neteyam was addicted. 

He had stayed true to his promise and kept her naked the entire time. 

Sex to her, he soon realized, was just like their training lessons. She was a quick learner- eager to please, eager to explore...and eager to kill him, he thought. 

The moment her stare pierced him the first time she wrapped those pretty pouty lips around his swollen mushroom tip, he exploded. He had come in an instant, as if he were once again a fucking horny teenager. 

And when he thought that was already bad enough, his little mate continued her torture by sucking him dry- eyes watering as her mouth swallowed him as far as her throat would allow before hollowing her cheeks as she released him with an audible POP. 

Then while his poor soul was gasping for air, wondering what the fuck had just happened, she had the audacity to smile up at him and ask if she’d “done it right?” 

Suffice to say he had her on her back within seconds. Her voice turned hoarse that night from all the screaming she’d done as his head stayed buried between her thighs. Tongue and fingers relentless as they teased, denied, edged and then finally gave her orgasm after orgasm.  

Sex with Xilä was a whole new world for Neteyam. Her body was his map to explore and their bond, their connection- Tsaheylu, only made things intensely better. 

Her pleasure was important to him, he was addicted to learning what did it for her. 

Like how she loved her tail tugged on while she bounced on his lap, or how she’d mewl and moan and pant and beg whenever he edged her with his tongue and fingers, even how she’d clench around him in a vice like grip if he whispered words of praise in her ear. 

There weren’t many things that she disliked, but he learned that lesson quite quickly after he made the mistake of wrapping his hand around the front of her throat. She had completely freaked out, gasping for air even though he hadn’t even given the slightest squeeze. 

Feeling terrible, Neteyam had apologized profusely even after she assured him it was fine. 

The turn out after that wasn’t bad though. Because that day he learned another thing about her…he could make her come by sucking on her tits alone if he gave them attention long enough. 

And it was a fucking glorious sight to see. 

On their fifth day, they agreed it would be their last. With all their lovemaking, they burned through their calories and so too their food. Neteyam had mentally berated himself for not packing more to last the entire week.

“How do you think our tent’s coming along?” Xi wondered as they sat across each other at the folding table. “Oh, UNO!” she yelled quickly, placing a red number three card in the pile with a happy tail wag.

“Sorry sweetheart, draw four,” Neteyam smirked with a “ha! Got you,” raise of his eyebrows, grinning at her pout and little nose scrunch. “I hope it’s finished,” he replied to her question.  “Our families are going to go crazy when they find out we came back mated. We’ll need a place to hide,” he joked. 

“I can’t wait to decorate it. One of Sal’s friends makes these amazing tapestries. I think I’ll ask her to make one for us if she’s got free time- one with all the colours, I like those the most. Oh and I was thinking we could maybe reuse your hammock- if that’s okay? I think I actually prefer it to my bed, and it’ll be big enough for the both of us anyway,” she rambled with an excited expression as she rearranged her new drawn cards. “Also where do we get the hanging chimes from? You know the ones that jingles to let you know you have compan- What?” Xi asked, flushing when she caught him staring. 

“Nothing,” Neteyam said with a soft smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, is all.”  

Xilä melted. “I can’t wait either.” 

After he won that round, they continued discussing their plans for their home. He loved that she was so opinionated on what she wanted for it. He knew it would be her first official home- one that she created and he was more than happy to make sure she got everything she wanted. 

Midway conversation, he noticed her squirm a little, glancing down at her lap a bit uncomfortably. 

“C’mere baby,” he said, trying to quash his knowing grin. “Are you dripping?” he asked, as she settled against his chest. 

“Mm,” she hummed in acknowledgment. “So, is this a thing that’s usually done?” she asked curiously. She noticed over their stay so far, he developed a habit.  

She felt him shrug as he slipped a hand between her parted thighs, thick digits stuffing back his leaking seed into her. 

“Never done this with another girl before, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“You seem to like doing it,” she noted in amusement, jerking in his hold when he accidentally grazed her still over her sensitive clit. 

“I like everything with you,” he answered, in complete honesty, pressing a tender kiss to her pointed ear. 

But it was the truth. There was just something about having her full of his come that he loved. It was intoxicating was all he could explain it as. 

Xilä released a leisured sigh, relaxing into his arms as she took in the beauty of their hideaway. “I’m going to miss this place,” she said. “I’m also not looking forward to our journey home,” she grumbled somewhat, squeezing at her aching thighs knowing fully well the ride back wouldn’t be any help. 

“Want a massage?” Neteyam offered, fingers still playing between her folds. 

Xi snorted. “No thank you. I know well by now what your massages lead to. I’ve learnt my lesson after you offered last night. You’re the reason they ache in the first place,” she sassed. 

“I’m offering a serious one this time. I don’t want you hurting on the ride back,” he said with a concerned frown. 

“Alright,” she agreed. “After lunch though. I’m getting peckish,” she said, halting his wrist when his playing became a bit too deliberate. She was still recovering from being pounded on her hands and knees not even an hour ago. 

Tilting her head up along his shoulder to meet his gaze, she brought his fingers to her lips, sucking each one clean. 

Neteyam groaned at the sight. “Oh you are such a spicy little minx you, know that?” 

Xilä laughed. “So you’ve said a few times,” she teased, twisting up onto her knees to plonk herself in his lap. She hugged him around the waist, face snuggled into the crook of his neck- just wanting to be close to him. 

“I thought you were hungry,” he smiled, pulling her in closer. Ever since their very first hug, he always marveled over just how perfect she fit in his arms. 

“Mmm yeah, but this is better,” she sighed in content. “Just a little longer please.” 

A comforting silence passed between them as they stayed wrapped up in each other. Only the sounds of the trickling waterfall, the dull roar of the wind and distant cries of creatures could be heard. It was peaceful and all was calm. 

“Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and realize it was all a dream,” Xi murmured against his skin. 

“What was all a dream?” 

“You. Sal, Jxo. Everything that’s happened since I arrived here…Teyam, I never thought I’d be blessed like this…I don’t know what I did to deserve it. I get these feelings sometimes that I’d wake up back in Li’ona and realize it wasn’t all real, and you were gone, and you weren’t really mine.” 

“Xi,” he frowned, trying to tilt back to see her face, but she didn’t budge. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s stupid I know-”

“It’s not stupid,” he said firmly. “It’s not. Xilä, please look at me.” 

“Let’s forget it, I don’t mean to be a downer during our time together,” she said, sitting to face him with a forced smile.

“No, we are not dropping this. Xi, babe, I want you to tell me these things- I need you too, okay? So that not only do you get it out of your system, but so I can talk you out of thinking you're not worth any of it. To tell you that those tiny whispers in your head are wrong.” 

Looking down, he shifted her on his lap so that he could tear off a string of beads from the front of his loincloth. 

Taking a section of her hair, he began braiding the strands, weaving in the beads as he did. 

“I carved these myself years ago,” he said quietly as he worked. “Here.” He gently guided her fingers to the coloured pieces. “Do you feel that? Look. Do you see them? Do they feel and look real to you?” he asked, peering down at her, pointed ears twitching earnestly. 

Xilä nodded, brows pinched together in confusion. 

“If I’m not around whenever you get those feelings again. Use this. Look at them, feel them. They’re real Xilä Sully. I am real. And I am happy to remind you of it whenever you need me too,” he said seriously. 

At a loss for words, Xilä simply smiled- a real one this time, then said, “I love you Neteyam Sully.” 

~

After their lunch, a massage that led to one last round of lovemaking and bath, they began to pack up their things- loading up his direhorse who had spent the few days roaming free around the area just outside niwan loreyu.

The moment they crossed the border, reaching the first cluster of communities, Neteyam could tell something was off. 

Hearing his name yelled, Neteyam spotted Spider chasing wildly after them and instantly pulled on Antoyle’s reins. 

“Seriously man, why the hell is your comm off?” Spider spat as he ran to close the distance. “Look never mind, just go! It’s D’avi. She’s in labor and asking for Xi.”

“Oh Eywa!” Xilä exclaimed from her seat in front of him. 

Charging off, Neteyam got them there in record speed. 

Without a glance at the gathered friends and family members, Xilä flung herself off the direhorse and headed straight into her sister’s tent. 

The interior had been rearranged somewhat- the usual way the healers normally did in order to prepare for a birth. 

Mo’at was stooped between a panting D’avi’s spread legs, chanting quietly. Yalnïk sat behind his wife, keeping her propped up- dabbing at her forehead with a cloth while Sal and Yalnïk’s mother were on either side of her, holding her hands, fussing over her as they spoke soothing words of encouragement. And then there was Kiri, who shuffled around, assisting her grandmother from the side lines. 

“Oh D’av, I’m here, I’m here,” Xilä cooed, moving to crouch on the same side as Sal, who let her hold D’avi’s hand instead. The mother kissed her adoptive daughter on the temple, more than happy to have her back home. 

“Well you sure took your time,” her sister sassed between labored breaths, accepting the kiss on the cheek Xilä gave her in greeting. “You are lucky my children decided to wait for their aunt to arrive.”

“They love me already,” Xi teased easily, brushing away a sweat soaked strand of hair from D'avi's forehead. “You alright there Yalnïk?” she asked, noticing her brother-in-law’s greenish hue. 

Before he could respond however, his wife snapped. 

“Why do people keep asking him if he is okay? I AM the one birthing not one but two of his massive babies! Have you seen his head? Two of those are about to be pushed out of me right now! Do I look okay? Ask me! Not him! Ask me! Because I am not okay, alright? It has been HOURS and they refuse to come out! He is the reason I am here! The idiot put two of his massive headed babies in me and I am not okay! It’s all his fault! Him and his stupid big fat dick- OH EYWA!” she cried out as a wave of pain hit her. 

Xilä was biting down hard on her cheek as her sister ranted hysterically. Glancing around she could tell the two mothers and even Kiri were also highly amused, and like her were trying their best to school their features. Her brother-in-law on the other hand, turned crimson. 

“Breathe D’av, breathe. Hey, look at me,” she whispered, while D’avi panted. “You’re going to do great, okay? You’re one of the strongest women I know. You’ve got this.”

Tears welling in her eyes, D’avi tightened her grip on her hand. “I'm so happy you are here with me, Xi. I don’t think I could do this without you,” she admitted softly. “You’ll help me right?” she pleaded, showing off a rare side of being vulnerable. 

“Every step of the way,” Xilä assured, kissing the back of her clammy hand. 

“It is time,” Tsahìk declared. 

~

When Neteyam returned to the outskirts of D’avi and Yalnïk’s tent after unloading Antoyle of their packed belongings, he was surprised to see the man standing outside- staring at the closed flap where D’avi’s cries could be heard.  

“Yalnïk?” he said as he drew near. “Why are you out here?” Neteyam asked quietly, sending a hesitant nod in greeting to a pissed off looking Jxo who stood nearby with Yalnïk’s father and twin brother. 

Yalnïk, who seemed a bit queasy, side-eyed him guiltily. “I got kicked out,” he whispered reluctantly.

“What? Why?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, the soon to be father released an embarrassed sigh. “I looked…..then I fainted. So the women kicked me out,” he admitted, frowning helplessly at the closed flap when D’avi cried out again. 

“Ah….Right,” Neteyam said, nodding in sympathy before giving him a pat on the back in comfort. 

“Is he still glaring?” the fisherman asked under his breath, lips barely moving.

Catching his meaning, Neteyam found Jxo’s cold hard stare before quickly averting his eyes with a fake cough. “Yep.”

“Fuck. He’s never going to let me live this down…Hey can you piss him off again like last time, so I can get off the hook?” he joked half seriously. 

They both chuckled then instantly sobered up when their father-in-law made his way over to them. 

“How was the trip?” the elder asked, gruffly, glare cutting into the side of poor Yalnïk’s head once more. 

“Um, good. I’d say it was good,” Neteyam said awkwardly, avoiding the man’s obvious appraisal, hoping he couldn’t suddenly read minds and see the flashes of what exactly happened between him and Xilä on said trip. 

There was no way in hell he was mentioning that he’d taken the man’s daughter as his mate while he was in this pissed a mood. 

Neteyam was saved from Jxo’s further questions however, when the cry of a baby’s voice rang out, startling them all. 

~

A girl and a boy. 

D’avi birthed two healthy, gorgeous babies, and Xilä was already in love. 

She was not the only one it seemed. Sal, Jxo and both of Yalnïk’s parents were completely smitten with their grandbabies. 

When the okay was given for them to come in, Xilä stood on the sidelines as she witnessed their joys of pure unconditional love.

Big, gruff Jxo was soft and tender as he greeted his daughter first. Kissing a still sobbing D’avi on the forehead, telling her how proud he was of her. Sal was also a slew of tears as she held out baby L’eo to meet his grandfather for the first time. 

Meanwhile tiny baby L’eya who was nestled in the arms of her tearful father was being cooed and awed over by her other grandparents. Yalnïk’s brother grinned widely as he welcomed his twin to fatherhood, teasing him that his own twins now each had their own little playmate. 

These two babies had not even been in the world a full hour, and yet they already had so many people who loved them. 

It was a beautiful sight and Xilä’s heart felt full. 

An arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her in for a comforting side hug. It was Tsahìk. Kiri had left not too long ago, carrying their supplies back to the healer’s tent. 

“Congratulations to you too my dear,” Mo’at murmured, causing Xi’s head to flick to hers in surprise. “Oh come now child, don’t look at me like that. Did you honestly think I could not sense your bond to my grandson the minute you stepped into this tent?” 

Xilä flushed, pointed ears tingling with embarrassment that it had been so obvious to the elder. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word until you two are ready,” the grandmother continued, turning back to survey the sweet affair before them. “But this means I can begin to advance your training even further now.” 

“My training?”

“Mm yes...It won’t be for years of course, but you will make a fine Tsahìk when the time comes,” Mo’at said frankly. 

Xilä’s jaw dropped. 

~

“Xi darling,” Sal called softly when she re-entered the tent much later that night. “Neteyam is outside for you,” she said, reaching out to take the drowsy baby girl from her arms.

The tent was quiet, save for the suckling sounds of L’eo feasting on an exhausted D’avi’s breast and the low snores of Yalnïk at her side. The poor man had been up with his wife since the night before when her contractions first began. 

“Alright thanks, I’ll be right back,” Xi whispered in response, easing the tiny baby into her grandmother’s arms.  

Heading outside, Xilä flung herself at Neteyam the moment she was within reach and he caught her around the waist with ease.  

Feet dangling off the ground, Neteyam took advantage of the position to walk them into the shadows between two tents. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he murmured, hiking her higher to steal a kiss. 

“Hi handsome,” she smiled, titling her jaw to grant him further access when his lips began to make a path across her skin.  

“How’s D’avi and the twins?” he asked, settling her back down on the low grass, keeping her locked in his arms. 

“They’re great. D’av is resting and the twins- gosh Teyam, they’re the sweetest little things. I can’t wait for you to meet them,” she whispered with gleaming eyes. 

“That’s amazing,” murmured, pecking her on the lips again, like the addicted man he was. “Did you have dinner? I can go get you something- and for D’avi too of course,” he offered, ears twitching in concern as he peered down at her.

She shook her head, heart fluttering at his sweetness. “Sal’s cook mates brought us a really nice spread a couple hours ago. I had two entire bowls of hot stew.”

“Okay good. Are you staying here tonight? To help out?” he asked.

Xi bit her lip and nodded in response. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for choosing to stay the night here, instead of with him, but the knowing look he shot her had her swallowing the apology. She knew he didn’t mind, but she still couldn’t help feeling a small pang of guilt. 

“Listen,” she started a bit apprehensively. “I was thinking…so this is a really big moment for D’avi right now…and I don’t-” her mouth twisted, unsure how to word what she was trying to say. 

“Baby, it’s fine,” Neteyam assured, reading her worry all too well. “I don’t mind waiting to tell our families about us. It’ll be a good thing- Hey I’m serious,” he emphasized, seeing her uncertainty. “I honestly don’t mind stalling all the impending fuss and lectures waiting for us,” he joked. “But you’re right. This is your sister’s moment.” 

She mentally sighed in relief, sending a quiet thank you to Eywa for blessing her with the most thoughtful mate in the universe. “Thank you…Um, also, Teyam, it's your birthday’s next week. What’s the council going to say?” she frowned, worrying her bottom lip. 

“That’s for me to handle Xi. Don’t worry about them, alright? How about we go see our tent later tomorrow?” he asked instead, steering the conversation to a lighter topic. 

It seemed to work because Xi lit up the way he loved to see. “Okay,” she agreed quickly. “Oh and maybe after we can go for a quick fly around? I want to see my Journey again.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he sang, bending at the waist to lift her by the thighs, just because he could. “Now, listen here wife. I’m going to be sleeping all alone tonight. So I’m going to need something to remember you by,” he said in mock seriousness, nudging her nose with his expectantly. 

Xilä laughed at his dramatics, but eagerly leaned in anyway to kiss her husband goodbye. 

~ 

Before Neteyam knew it, three fast weeks flew by.

His days were filled with the tedious works of reinforcing their borders, upping their security from roaming palulukans and heading numerous planning and development strategy meetings. 

Whereas Xilä’s days were split between helping D’avi settle into motherhood and continuing her studies with his grandmother. 

On those few nights when Xi wasn’t at her sister’s, or he wasn’t on watch, Neteyam would sneak into her room at Sal and Jxo’s, where they were back to being as silent as possible. 

Jxo however, seemed to have developed a sixth sense overtime and would often drop smartass remarks to him. 

“You dragged your feet last night. I thought you were a highly skilled warrior?” or “Why don’t you just save yourself the trouble and wake the whole village with all that racket you make sneaking in. You’re not fooling anybody.” 

Suffice to say and much to Xilä’s displeasure, Neyetam refused to touch her in any sexual capacity while under Sal and Jxo’s roof. And so they had become creative when it came to their lovemaking. 

Then there was Neteyam’s birthday. 

Twenty-four years of life. 

It had been a quiet affair after much begging on his part. He really didn’t want any grand celebrations or masses of attention. 

His family held an intimate gathering at their home tent where halfway through, he and Xi snuck out and made their escape from Camp. They spent the remainder of the day, flying, relaxing and enjoying gratuitous amounts of extremely loud sex- niwan loreyu had been a most welcomed hideaway once more. 

When he revealed he was officially a taken man to the entire Council the day after, almost all of the members congratulated him- most looking relieved he was finally in a secure match- others not as pleased with who he had chosen.

Fe’ska, Leati’s mother had turned sour. He knew even after admitting his betrothal to Xi, the woman still held out the hope that he’d end up with her daughter. 

Jake, who was seated at the head of the table however, simply smirked and sent his son a “good on you,” nod as his eyes shined proudly. 

The Council however were against Neteyam putting off the announcement of his pairing with Xilä, but his father had finally put his foot down and overruled them all, citing that his son would do that on his own terms and that now they were all being “fucking ridiculous” with their demands. 

Neteyam appreciated it when Jake then held them all to an oath of secrecy. 

But that was two weeks ago…

Now, however. 

The jig was up. 

The moment Neteyam walked into D’avi and Yalnïk’s tent that morning to check in on Xi, he stopped dead in his tracks. 

‘Shit. Here we go,’ he thought with an accepting sigh of defeat, feeling the sting of the stares from the women seated around the table before him. 

They knew…. 

~

Oh my goodness. This took way too long to write and edit and I lost some of it- just DRAMA with this part.

But enough about that....you guysssss. They're mated! Gah I could cry because it's been such a journey.

I hope I did the love scenes justice. I just really wanted fluff Fluff FLUFFY throughout this part.

Also, I did that thing again when the part was getting way too long. So I had to cut and put it in the next one.

Anywhoo...I hope you guys enjoyed it.

Please let me know your thoughts, you already know I love hearing from you all :)

Ps. I have no full knowledge about the Na’vi and their body anatomy and how everything works. So I used my imagination for the first time sex and baby birthing scene.

Ps. Ps. So it ended on a bit of a cliff hanger which I absolutely hate doing. But I figured you guys could get involved and share how you think the women in Neteyam and Xi's life may react to them hiding the fact that they're already mates.

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[turn3tifosi]

race wins and birthdays

arvid lindblad x olmpic swimmer!reader

a chance meeting in italy, your 17th birthday in silverstone, olympic wins, and his 17th in france

masterlist

December 2023 – Lake Como, Italy

The cozy little café is nestled along the shore of Lake Como, a perfect hideaway from the cold December air that clings to the streets of the small Italian town. The soft chatter of locals and a few tourists fills the warm, inviting space, where the scent of fresh pastries and rich espresso mingles with the smell of pine from the nearby mountains. You had stumbled upon this café earlier in the week, deciding it was the perfect place to take a break from the relentless pace of training and the pressures of preparing for the upcoming Paris Olympics. Today, you’re back, hoping to enjoy a quiet moment with a book and a hot chocolate, the perfect antidote to the chill outside.

As you settle into your seat by the window, you notice a boy, probably around your age, walk in. His curly black hair is a bit damp from the mist outside, and his sharp brown eyes scan the room before he approaches the counter. He’s dressed casually, in a way that suggests he’s not a local either—perhaps another tourist seeking respite in this quiet corner of Italy. You glance back at your book, trying not to think too much about the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw him.

A few minutes later, your peaceful solitude is interrupted when the waitress places a steaming cup of coffee in front of you, alongside a plate with a slice of cake. You frown, looking up at her in confusion. 

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this,” you say politely, wondering if there’s been a mix-up.

The waitress looks puzzled for a moment and then checks her notepad. “Ah, my mistake. This was meant for that young gentleman over there,” she explains, glancing over at the boy from earlier, who’s just sat down at a table across the room.

You both share a brief moment of awkward eye contact as she moves to correct the error. However, instead of simply taking your original order, the boy stands up and walks over to your table.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a soft British accent, an embarrassed smile playing on his lips. “I think I accidentally took your drink.”

You can’t help but smile back at him. “No problem. I guess it happens.”

He hesitates for a moment, then gestures to the empty seat across from you. “Mind if I join you? Since we’ve already swapped drinks and all.”

You nod, slightly amused by the situation. “Sure, why not?”

As he sits down, he introduces himself. “I’m Arvid, by the way. Arvid Lindblad.”

His name rings a bell somewhere in the back of your mind, but you can’t quite place it.  

The conversation starts off simple—how you both ended up in this quiet town in Italy, what you’re doing on your break. You learn that Arvid is a racing driver, fresh off his first season in single-seater racing. You find out he’s just completed his first year in Formula 4, a big leap from karting. He’s only 16, just like you, but already chasing his dreams with the kind of determination you can relate to.

When you tell him about your swimming career, his eyes light up with genuine interest. “So, you’re heading to the Paris Olympics next year? That’s amazing!”

You shrug, trying to downplay it even though you’re bursting with excitement inside. “Yeah, I’m just starting out in senior swimming. It’s a lot of hard work, but I’m looking forward to it.”

The more you talk, the more you realize how much you have in common—two young athletes on the brink of something big, both navigating the pressures of being at the start of your careers. You laugh over the shared struggles of maintaining strict diets and the endless hours of training, and you find yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. 

Time flies by, and before you know it, the sky outside the café is beginning to darken. The streets of the small town are illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps, casting reflections on the lake’s still surface. Arvid checks his phone, and you realize how long you’ve been talking.

“I should probably head back,” he says reluctantly, standing up and putting on his jacket. “But it was really nice meeting you. It’s not every day I meet someone who understands what it’s like, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you agree, feeling a pang of disappointment that the conversation is ending.

He hesitates for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. “How about we stay in touch? I mean, we’re both on a crazy journey, and it’d be cool to keep each other updated.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. “I’d like that.”

You exchange phone numbers, and he flashes you one last smile before stepping out into the cold evening. As you watch him walk away, you can’t help but feel that this chance encounter was something more than just a simple mix-up at a café. There’s a spark of excitement in your chest as you think about the possibility of a new friendship, maybe even more, with someone who seems to understand your world.

As you leave the café, the memory of Arvid’s smile stays with you, a pleasant reminder that sometimes, the most unexpected moments can lead to something special.

July 4, 2024 – Silverstone, England

The early morning mist hangs over the Silverstone Circuit, the cool summer air carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked asphalt. You’ve been awake for hours, the excitement of being at such an iconic racetrack bubbling inside you. It’s your 17th birthday, and you couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it than watching Arvid race in his first home event in Formula 3. You’ve flown in from your training base to be here, a rare weekend off just before the final push to the Paris Olympics. The significance of the day isn’t lost on Arvid, who’s already joked about how he should win both races because “his girlfriend is finally here to see him race.”

Sometime between December and April, after numerous face times, texts, flirtations, and long phone calls, Arvid had finally asked you out. You had of course said yes, and it might’ve been one of the wiser decisions you’ve made in your life.

The title of “girlfriend” is something you both haven’t really discussed publicly. In fact, your relationship has been kept under wraps, a precious secret between the two of you. But here, among the roaring engines and the adrenaline of race day, it feels almost natural. The paddock is a world of its own, buzzing with energy as teams prepare for the weekend’s action. You’ve tucked yourself into the corner of the Prema Racing hospitality area, trying to keep a low profile while still catching glimpses of Arvid as he preps for the sprint race.

He started 11th in qualifying yesterday, which places him second on the grid for today’s sprint race due to the reverse grid rule. The sky is overcast, the threat of rain ever-present as you nervously watch the cars line up on the grid. Your heart races as the lights go out, and you see Arvid immediately dart towards the inside line, using his position to take the lead into the first corner. 

The rain begins to fall steadily, making the track slippery and treacherous. You can barely breathe as Arvid expertly controls his car, keeping his lead even as the conditions worsen. You’ve seen him race before, but never like this. He’s confident, precise, and completely in control. Every lap he completes without incident brings a rush of relief, mixed with growing pride. He handles the wet conditions masterfully, pulling away from the rest of the field and maintaining a gap that seems insurmountable.

As the final lap approaches, the nerves in your stomach turn into a fluttering anticipation. The checkered flag waves, and Arvid crosses the line, taking his first victory in Formula 3. Your heart swells with pride as the crowd erupts in cheers for their home favorite. Arvid’s voice crackles through the team radio, barely containing his excitement as he thanks his team. You can’t help but smile, knowing how much this win means to him, especially with you here to witness it.

After the podium celebrations, you finally get a chance to see him. He’s still in his racing suit, his hair damp with sweat and rain, but there’s a wide grin on his face as he spots you. Without thinking, he pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground in his excitement.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers in your ear, still holding you close.

You laugh, feeling warmth spread through you. “I think this might be the best birthday present ever.”

He pulls back, his blue eyes shining with happiness. “I told you I’d win because you were here. But now the pressure’s on for tomorrow.”

“You’ve got this,” you say, your voice filled with confidence. “You’re racing at home, and you’ve already won once. Tomorrow will be just as good.”

His smile turns a bit softer as he looks at you, his hand still resting on your back. “I hope so.”

July 7, 2024 – Silverstone, England

The rain hasn’t let up. If anything, it’s heavier today, turning the track into a slick, treacherous challenge. Arvid starts from 11th on the grid for the feature race, and you can see the determination in his eyes as he gets ready. You’re back in the hospitality area, nervously watching the screen as the race begins. 

From the start, it’s clear that the conditions are far worse than yesterday. Several drivers struggle to keep their cars on the track, with spins and incidents happening in the opening laps. But Arvid remains focused, making up positions with a combination of skill and calculated risks. The spray from the cars ahead makes visibility almost nonexistent, but he navigates through it with the same precision that won him the sprint race.

Lap after lap, he climbs up the order, each overtaking maneuver sending a thrill through you. He’s now up to third, and the tension is almost unbearable as he closes in on the leaders. The rain shows no sign of stopping, but Arvid seems undeterred, his car slicing through the standing water with incredible control.

With just a few laps to go, he makes his move for the lead. The two cars ahead of him are battling, their fight for position allowing him to close the gap. You hold your breath as he dives down the inside, taking the lead with a daring move that leaves you both exhilarated and terrified.

The final laps feel like an eternity. You’re on the edge of your seat, fingers crossed, praying that nothing goes wrong. And then, finally, the checkered flag waves again, and Arvid crosses the line in first place, completing an astonishing double victory at his home race.

The sheer emotion of the moment hits you like a wave. You’ve never felt this proud before. He’s made history, becoming the first driver to win both the sprint and feature races on the same weekend in Formula 3, and he did it in front of his home crowd. But more than that, he did it with you here, sharing the moment with him.

When you see him after the race, he’s practically glowing with happiness. You can’t help but throw your arms around him the moment you’re alone, the dampness of his racing suit and the rain on his hair forgotten in the rush of the moment.

“You were incredible,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him.

His smile is soft, almost shy despite the incredible feat he’s just accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you here. I guess your birthday luck really works.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the cold air around you. “I think it’s more than just luck. You were amazing out there.”

For a moment, the world around you fades away—the roar of the crowd, the celebrations, the rain. It’s just the two of you, standing in a corner of the paddock, holding onto each other like you never want to let go. This victory isn’t just his, it’s yours too, a shared moment that feels like the beginning of something even bigger.

As the rain continues to fall, you know that this weekend, this victory, is something neither of you will ever forget. And as you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this is just the beginning of your journey together.

July 27, 2024 – Paris, France

The aquatic center is buzzing with excitement, but for you, the world has narrowed to the confines of the pool and the upcoming 400m freestyle final. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you wait behind the starting block. The hours of training, the sacrifices, the intense preparation—it's all come down to this single moment. The realization is both exhilarating and terrifying.

When the starting horn sounds, you dive into the water with a force born from months of relentless practice. The initial shock of the cold pool quickly fades as you find your rhythm. The water wraps around you, your body cutting through with each stroke in a precise, rhythmic dance. You can feel every muscle working, every breath timed perfectly. The world outside the pool seems to disappear, leaving only the relentless push towards the finish.

As the race progresses, the mental and physical strain begins to build. The 400m is a test of endurance and technique, a grueling battle that makes every second feel like an eternity. Each flip turn is a moment of calculated efficiency, your body moving with the practiced grace of a well-oiled machine. The pain and fatigue become almost secondary to the drive to finish strong.

In the final stretch, every stroke is a battle against exhaustion. Your lungs burn, your legs feel like lead, but the sight of the wall draws closer with each powerful stroke. You reach out, touch the wall, and the scoreboard flickers with your name at the top.

A wave of relief and triumph washes over you. You’ve won the gold medal in the 400m freestyle. You’re immediately enveloped in a thick towel, but the medal’s weight around your neck feels like a tangible reward for your hard work. The feeling of accomplishment is overwhelming, and as you look around, the realization that Arvid isn’t here with you is a bittersweet reminder of his absence.

Despite not being able to be there in person, Arvid’s support shines through. He’s reposting every update from the Olympics’ official Instagram and your national team’s account, his enthusiasm and pride evident in every story. It’s adorable, and since to the world you’re both single, talented kids, they just think of Arvid as a big fan of yours (even if he’s never shown any interest in swimming).

July 29, 2024 – Paris, France

The 200m freestyle final arrives, and with it, a different kind of pressure. This race is faster, shorter, and requires a different kind of intensity. As you prepare behind the blocks, the energy is electric. You remind yourself to stay focused and harness the explosive speed you’ve trained for.

When the race starts, you’re in the water in an instant. The 200m is a sprint, every stroke demanding maximum effort and precision. You push off the wall with every flip turn, your legs kicking furiously as you fight to maintain your speed. The water feels almost alive, a constant challenge that you meet with every ounce of your strength and determination.

As you approach the final stretch, the strain of the race is almost unbearable. Your body is screaming, but you push through, determined to finish strong. You touch the wall and look up at the scoreboard, the gold medal now yours once again. The joy is immediate and profound. You’ve done it—another gold medal, another dream achieved.

Even though Arvid can’t be there in person, his support is unwavering. He’s reposting your victories and celebrating with every update from the various social media accounts. There’s fourteen stories on his account, and only one of them is celebrating Prema’s team championship.

July 31, 2024 – Paris, France

The 100m freestyle final is the second last of the sprint events, and the intensity is palpable. You’ve come to expect the pressure, but each race is a new challenge. This event demands everything you have, like every other event, and the stakes are, like always, incredibly high.

When the horn sounds, you dive into the pool, every muscle straining with the effort. The race is a blur of speed and power, each stroke a calculated move to stay ahead. The competition is fierce, and every fraction of a second counts. You push through the pain, the finish line drawing closer with each powerful stroke.

You reach the wall and see the gold medal reflected in the scoreboard. It’s a moment of pure exhilaration, a culmination of all the hard work you’ve put in. As you stand on the podium, the national anthem plays, and the weight of the medal feels like the ultimate reward for your dedication and perseverance.

This is the first race Arvid’s there for, and in true Olympic champion fashion, the moment the podium ceremony’s over, you run over to hug him. He’s so happy for you, and your coach is standing a few steps away from the two of you, smiling and maybe, just maybe, a tear escaped his eyes, but he swears it was because you won the race, not because he was happy to see you so excited. 

You wanted to spend more time with Arvid, but you still have one more race. The 50m freestyle, and so, you get back to your training, with detailed plans and elaborate dreams of celebrating together after your final race. 

August 4, 2024 – Paris, France

The final race, the 50m freestyle, is the shortest but the most explosive. It’s the culmination of your Olympic journey, and every ounce of energy you have is channeled into this final sprint. The anticipation is high, and you’re ready to give it your all. It’s your chance to go four for four, win all your events and make so many people, but most importantly your loved ones proud. 

You dive into the water, and the race is a flurry of speed and power. Every stroke is a test of your strength and technique, and the finish line is almost within reach before you know it. The wall comes up quickly, and you touch it with everything you’ve got.

Winning the 50m freestyle gold is the perfect end to a successful Olympic campaign. The joy and pride you feel are overwhelming, and the medal around your neck feels like the ultimate validation of all your hard work and sacrifice.

Arvid is there, cheering you on with all his heart, despite his own recent challenges. By now, the whole arena knows that you two know each other (they don’t know you’re dating, just that you’re REALLY good friends) and he’s probably hurt his throat with all the cheering.

August 8, 2024 – France

The sun has barely risen over the sleepy French town you and Arvid have chosen for a peaceful getaway. The Paris Olympics are now behind you, and both of you are savoring a rare moment of calm. After the whirlwind of events, the racing and swimming, the medals and the fame, today is all about celebrating Arvid's 17th birthday.

You wake up to find the early morning light filtering softly through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. The small, charming cottage you've rented for this special occasion feels like a perfect haven, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the Olympic Village and racetrack. Arvid is still asleep beside you, his face relaxed and serene, a stark contrast to the intensity of his recent races.

You quietly slip out of bed, wanting to prepare a small surprise for him. The kitchen is quaint and cozy, and you find yourself surrounded by fresh ingredients from the local market. With careful precision, you start making breakfast—fresh croissants, fruit, and a rich, creamy café au lait. The simple act of cooking feels comforting, a gentle way to express your appreciation for the quiet moments together.

As the aroma of breakfast begins to fill the air, you hear a soft rustling behind you. Arvid stirs, blinking sleepily as he catches the scent of the food. He stretches, yawning, and when he sees you working in the kitchen, a wide smile spreads across his face.

“Morning,” he says, his voice husky with sleep but filled with affection.

“Good morning,” you reply, setting the table with a flourish. “Happy birthday, Arvid.”

He chuckles, pulling you into a gentle embrace before you can respond. The warmth of his body against yours is comforting, and you savor the closeness. “Thank you. This looks amazing.”

After breakfast, you both decide to explore the town, its picturesque streets and quaint shops providing a charming backdrop to your leisurely stroll. The pace is relaxed, and you find yourselves wandering through local markets, sampling fresh pastries and enjoying the leisurely rhythm of the day. It’s a welcome change from the high-octane world of competitive sports, allowing you both to recharge and enjoy each other’s company.

The afternoon is spent in a similar manner—casual and carefree. You find a small, secluded spot by a nearby river and spend hours simply talking, laughing, and watching the world go by. The conversation flows easily, touching on everything from race strategies and training regimens to your favorite movies and future dreams. It’s a precious time of connection, a perfect balance to the intensity of the past weeks.

As the evening approaches, you both return to the cottage, where a surprise party is waiting. Arvid’s parents and a few close friends have arrived, the surprise coordinated in secret while you and Arvid were out. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, filled with the comforting scent of a homemade meal and the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the garden.

The surprise is met with delighted gasps and cheerful greetings as Arvid’s family and friends gather around. His parents, who you’ve heard so much about, greet you with warmth and enthusiasm, clearly thrilled to be celebrating this special occasion with their son. The dinner is a feast of local French delicacies, and the evening is filled with laughter, heartfelt toasts, and the joyful noise of celebration.

As the night draws on, the cake is brought out—a beautifully decorated creation, adorned with candles. Arvid makes a wish, blows the candles out, and immediately gets his face smashed with cream. He stops himself from cursing in front of his parents, but a very discreet middle finger makes his friends laugh.

After dinner, you and Arvid step outside, taking a moment to enjoy the cool night air. The stars are bright overhead, and the quiet of the countryside provides a peaceful backdrop to your thoughts. Arvid takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Today was perfect,” he says, his voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for everything.”

You smile, leaning against him. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You deserve it after everything you’ve accomplished.”

As the night deepens, you both head back inside, the warmth of the cottage and the company of loved ones wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The day has been a perfect blend of relaxation and celebration, a fitting end to a remarkable journey. 

As you prepare for bed, you take a moment to reflect on the past few weeks—each race, each triumph, each shared moment. The memories are vivid and cherished, and as you look over at Arvid, who is already settling into bed with a contented sigh, you know that this quiet birthday celebration is a beautiful counterpoint to the intense and exhilarating experiences you’ve shared.

It’s been a good break, and while you’ll leave for your training tomorrow, this was something you had needed desperately, a welcome change from your gruesome training schedule.

[lipglossanon]

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐

M༙྇r༙྇.༙྇ S༙྇i༙྇n༙྇i༙྇s༙྇t༙྇e༙྇r༙྇ ☽☪︎⋆ R͓̽e͓̽m͓̽i͓̽x͓̽

└───── •✧✧• ─────┘

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

This is a a fork in the path so to speak from how my original corrupt cop Leon fic goes; this one veers off in a darker direction so please heed the warning. Unsure on when (or even if!) I’ll add more to this; I just liked how much of a creep Leon is here. 🫣

Warning: dark!leon, slight perv!leon

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

Leon likes to patrol the usual hideaways and make out spots in Raccoon City; although he’s in his late 20’s now, the spots are still popular and it’s easy pickings to write out tickets for loitering or underage drinking.

He doesn’t stake out Lovers Lane too often, but tonight he’s extremely glad he did.

He spots you, alone, walking down the pull off road headed out from the popular make out destination. Your arms are folded, thin yellow cardigan paired with a modest grey skirt standing out at this time of night. Your head is bent down so you don’t even notice him until he has pulled up alongside you.

“Lost?”

Your head quickly looks over at him and you give him a shy smile, cute dimples showing.

“Uh n-no. My date, he uh,” you frown, pretty eyes glancing at your shoes, “well, things didn’t go his way so I’m walking back to my car.”

Leon’s eyes rake across your body, a low heat building in his stomach. You’re so vulnerable right now. He feels his pulse race in excitement.

“That’s a shame,” he clicks his tongue drawing your bashful gaze back to him, “I can take you seeing as it’s at least a few miles away. Assuming it’s the parking lot, right?”

“Yes it is! You really don’t mind?” Another of those dimpled smiles grace your face.

“Of course not,” Leon grins, boyish and sweet, “hop in the back.”

You climb into the back of the squad car. Leon’s eyes watch as you tug your skirt back down from your thighs as you adjust in your seat. He wants to sink his teeth into them, leave them bruised before burying his face in your little cunt.

You sigh in relief and catch his gaze in the rear view mirror, “I really appreciate it, Officer Kennedy.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart.”

You give him a soft thank you as he nods and he pulls back onto the road.

A few minutes pass by as you gaze out the window watching the trees pass by like dark shadows on the glass.

“So you and your boyfriend huh?” Leon asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The anticipation is building inside him.

You look away from the scenery, brow furrowed as you look at the back of his head.

“Yeah, he um..”

You trail off, feeling embarrassed. You shuffle in your seat and tug on your skirt.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Leon’s sharp voice cut in.

“Oh no no,” your eyes widen with surprise, “he just wanted to go further than I was comfortable with.”

Your voice trails off as you bit your lip. Leon watches in the mirror. He loves the look on your face. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Boys can be very hotheaded. Especially when they’re with a pretty girl. And you’re a very pretty girl,” he spoke, voice still tinged with that dark edge.

You feel your cheeks warm, eyes catching his shyly, “I-I guess.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I won’t have any of that. Say thank you, Officer Kennedy.”

“Thank y-you, Officer Kennedy,” you stammer out, wide eyed at his tone.

Leon gives you a lazy smile, “Good girl. We thank people who give us compliments, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you feel a sense of foreboding tinged with a low pulse of arousal at his words, “thank you.”

His smile widens, “Anytime. I bet you’re just the sweetest thing, huh. No wonder your boy pushed his luck. I bet you’re still a virgin.”

You press your palms to your face, shielding your embarrassment, “That i-isn’t appropriate to—“

Leon laughs, “Yeah you are, just a sweet, little virgin.”

You press your thighs together, hating and loving the way he was speaking to you. Worry is beginning to creep into your thoughts at the way this police officer is acting towards you.

Leon’s sea dark eyes took in your flustered appearance, “Bet you’re wet right now, pretty girl.”

You let out a harsh gasp and Leon laughs again. You watch as he pulls off into a thick copse of trees, the road disappearing behind you before shutting the car off.

“I think you need someone to show you the ropes, sweetheart,” Leon murmurs in the quiet.

He gets out of the car and makes his way into the backseat with you. Or tries to at least. Seeing the opportunity to get away, you slip out of the door and run back the way you came.

You hear a sharp laugh coming from the officer and as much as you want to turn and look, you make yourself keep running forward.

“I’ll give you a head start,” he calls out to you, voice delighted, “gotta keep things even.”

Sadly, it doesn’t take long for you to get turned around, and now you’re playing a terrifying game of hide and seek with a man who is obviously deranged.

He taunts you but it doesn’t sound like he gets any closer to you as you keep moving away. You finally see a cluster of trees that looks familiar. You’re close to the parking lot where you met up with your date. You left your car here and took his up to Lovers Lane.

You feel like crying with relief, but you’re quite literally not out of the woods yet.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Your heart rabbits in your chest. You crouch close to the ground behind a large tree. Too scared to look around, you keep your eyes focused on the murky dark surrounding you. The moonlight barely breaks up the gloom in this creepy forest. You’ve been out here for hours already.

“C’mon now don’t hide from me. You know I’m gonna find you,” his voice croons sweetly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a few stray tears escaping. Pressing a hand over your nose and mouth you take a quick breath peering through the foliage.

You don’t see anyone or anything moving. You can’t even hear footsteps or crunching leaves or twigs. Standing up from your crouch, that awful feeling of pins and needles rushes through your legs. You grit your teeth through it and slowly move around the trunk.

Your car isn’t parked too far away. At least you don’t think it is, and if the coast is clear you’re determined to make a run for it.

You’re as quiet as a country mouse, as your grandma used to say, and as soon as you make it to the far side of the tree you take off running.

Between one heartbeat to the next, you feel the skin on the back of your neck prickle. Turning to look behind you, you can’t make out anyone or anything. Facing forward again, you let your legs carry you closer to your car and hopefully out of this nightmare.

A hot breath caresses your neck.

“Gotcha.”

Your shout is muffled my a palm covering your mouth as an arm wraps around your stomach and pulls you backwards.

You scream and thrash but the body behind you is steadfast.

“Aww, poor baby,“ he laughs in your ear, a dark rumble you can feel in your chest, “as fun as its been, sweetheart, I think I’m gonna like this part a lot better.”

You try to bite at the hand wrapped around your face, but only get a mean laugh at your attempts.

“Sloppy, baby. So very sloppy.”

You still struggle and fight against the man carrying you deeper into the woods, but the further he goes the more tired you’re becoming. You decide to stop and save your energy; you might get a chance to escape later.

You feel him sniff your hair making goosebumps run down your arms.

“Such a pretty girl,” his voice is gravel in your ears, “silly, too. But you’re all mine now.”

You feel the fear you’ve been trying to keep at bay ratchet up inside your chest. You twist your shoulders and arms as well as you can, needing to pull his hand away—at least free your mouth, you feel like you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

Oh god, you can’t breathe.

Fuck!

You can’t breathe! You CAN’T—

Spots dance in your vision for a split second before the tunnel vision hits. You widen your eyes as much as you can, but the darkness is continually getting worse— you kick your legs feebly as the fear finally whites out your brain and you pass completely out.

Leon gazes down at your limp body with a wide smile. It really has been his lucky night tonight.

[meteorstricken]

Another one for the, "What the actual hell, Clive?!" pile:

When he and Joshua reach the Nexus of Origin, one of the things Clive says to Ultima is something to the effect of, "This was never about creation, only self-preservation."

The last time I checked, survival is often a huge catalyst for creativity--inventing new shit or coming up with unconventional ways of doing things. The two are not only not mutually exclusive--they very often walk in lockstep.

Now, there's certainly plenty of room to talk about the ethics of how one uses or treats one's creations, especially when it unintentionally produces sentient life, but that's not what's going on here. Clive seems to be saying that because Ultima’s motive for creating humanity was self-preservation, it's invalid--which is some rank black-and-white thinking and astonishingly hypocritical for the good guy coming up on his end game.

But hey, if it has to be one or the other...Pack it up, Mid. No more Telamon alembic or furnace. Better get rid of the device in the hideaway's back yard that cleans up the Blighted Bennumere water so it can be used too. Get your team of engineers to dismantle the Enterprise while you're at it. Oh, and Blackthorne? Throw away your forge's bellows and take them back from Dravozd. Tarja, no more of that procedure you created to remove Bearers' brands. All of that stuff was invented in service to self-preservation, so it's anathema. Clive says you can't have it both ways.

Seriously, some wickedly lopsided, zero-nuance bullshit flies out of that man's mouth sometimes, but the more times I've played through XVI, the more I believe this might actually be an intentional character flaw.

Why?

To prove this point, which Clive first stated with regard to Ultima's hypocrisy, and show that when it came down right down to the wire...

Clive in the Interdimensional Rift, speaking of Ultima's reasoning for creating humanity and his condemnation of them for bringing on the Blight and wanting to survive beyond his intended purpose for them.

He then turns around at Origin and condemns Ultima for creating humanity as a mechanism for survival *at all*, using verbiage that suggests "true" creational intention must preclude it.

--------

(The problem with this is that there are a LOT of people who can't or won't take the time to work out the math behind this reflection. They'll just take whatever Clive says in the heat of righteous[?] anger as the unquestionable gospel truth without considering the larger context. If I had to point to a writing flaw with the events at Origin, it's that the game is being way too coy with the point it's trying to make. So frustrating...)

[allwaswell16]

Fics by allwaswell16 📖 2023

🍄 Louis/Harry 🍄

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet (series) [E, 34k, kid fic, fic post]

Part One: Bitter Ends Turn Sweet [E, 30k, fic post] It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago Part Two: In Time [M, 2k, fic post] Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam.A prequel/timestamp to the fic Bitter Ends Turn Sweet Part Three: Yours and Mine [T, 1k, fic post] Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max.A Bitter Ends Turns Sweet timestamp

Heart Beat [E, 33k, kid fic, fic post]

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

Ace of Spades (series)

Part Three: Ace of Hearts [E, 10k, fic post] Louis Tomlinson, the alpha Duke of Yorkshire, had returned to England to stay now that he’d married and mated. But since his husband was also the omega he’d once held captive aboard his half-brother’s pirate ship, he held back from pushing Harry into parenthood.With the Ace of Spades now docked in London, Harry spent time with his friends from the crew and remained a bit oblivious to his alpha’s deepest desires. What he was aware of was his best friend’s hurt and his mother-in-law’s wish for more than friendship with her oldest friend.

On That Note [E, 6k, coworkers, fic post]

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

Do You See What I See [T, 2k, pets, fic post]

Harry may or may not be rescuing stray animals as an excuse to see the very hot local veterinarian.

Or an absurd pet fic inspired by She Is Beauty We Are World Class

All This Time [T, 1k, a/b/o, fic post]

Louis Tomlinson had been best friends with flower shop owner Gemma Styles for years. It wasn't until she suggested he date her alpha brother that he ever thought of Harry that way. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

Netflix Original [T, 1k, neighbors, fic post]

Harry's hot neighbor overhears that he doesn't have Netflix.

Walk of Shame [T, 1k, meet cute, fic post]

On a cold, rainy autumn morning Louis meets someone else doing the walk of shame.

A Deal [T, 898 words, Potter Direction, fic post]

Slytherin Harry Styles spends his free time drawing down by the lake. Unfortunately, he can't show anyone what he's drawing because they're all of Gryffindor Louis Tomlinson.

🍄 Rare Pairs 🍄

One [E, 4k, Louis/Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders), fic post]

When omega Louis Tomlinson becomes pregnant after an unexpected encounter, he decides his only option is to flee his pack. But Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, might not be willing to let him go so easily.

Daydream [T, 2k, Louis/Zayn, fic post]

Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

Crush [T, 1k, Louis/Niall, fic post]

When Niall stops smiling around the office, his co-worker Louis sets out to lift his mood with the help of their office mates.

[drabblesandimagines]

400 request. Can I get a happy ending with Clive? Thank you!

Thank you so much for your request! <3 I hope you enjoy x Promises Clive Rosfield x fem reader, established relationship Major endgame spoilers! 1,140 words

From dawn to dusk, day after day from when Origin fell from the sky, you've waited on the pier, keeping your eyes on the horizon. It's better to stay in the one place, you reason, though it's hard. He could be hurt, convalescing somewhere until he's well enough to travel. And now that the stolas magic is gone, it’s going to take far longer to send word places and receive it back - if you left the Hideaway in search, he could return in your absence.

So you stay, even though your heart aches.

There are pity-filled glances from all directions. You move to the side to allow the Cursebreakers to board the skiff heading over to the mainland. They’re away to help people adjust to the new age – how to cope without the Mothercrystals providing for them any longer.

"I'm not sure this is healthy, like." Gav comments, a bowl of stew in hand. Everyone seems to constantly bring you sustenance – they must have a rota, Tarja, Jill, Otto, Gav - as if you could fill the gnawing hole within with food. "He-"

"Is coming back." You cut him off firmly, taking the offered bowl. "Clive promised he’s coming back. I just need to be patient."

Gav starts another protest but then hesitates, swallowing his rebuttal altogether. There’s a further pause as he scans the horizon, placing his hands on his hips. "How long are you going to wait like this?"

You blow on a spoonful of the stew. "As long as it takes." 

Sleep has been difficult. His smell lingers on the sheets – a combination of musk, ash and just something that is uniquely Clive. You could return to your bunk but it doesn’t seem right. When you close your eyes and you’re somewhere in the between of being awake and asleep, you can almost pretend you've buried your face in his side, rather than his pillow.

On the sixth day, a small sail boat appears on the horizon near dusk, or at least you think that’s what it is. You'd been staring most of the day and there’s a worry that it could be a mirage conjured from wishful thinking after staring so hard at nothing for hours. Otto had lent you a spyglass, though somewhat reluctantly – should he be encouraging this behaviour? You knew they all thought you were in the depths of grief, deluding yourself sitting out here, day after day.

But Clive had promised, and he'd never broken a promise before, so why should you think he’d start now?

You hold up the spyglass to your eye with a shaky hand, trying to steady it so you can actually look, but it’s no use. The boat has dipped off the horizon, or perhaps it wasn’t there at all.

You rub your eyes as you walk slowly up the pier – you need sleep.

--

It takes a while for sleep to come, but you must’ve drifted off eventually because something wet nuzzles at your cheek, proceeding to lick you across your face relentlessly.

“What is it, Torgal?” Your voice is heavy with sleep as you reluctantly open your eyes. It was one of the more solid sleeps you’d had in a while, but the wolf won’t have woken you without purpose.

Torgal barks once, his tail wagging from side to side, and he trots over to the door. You get to your feet – it’s still the dead of night, but he must sense something. You dress quickly to protect yourself against the chill and follow the wolf as he leads you to the lift and down towards the end of the dock. He sits down, tail banging against the planks, and howls into the sky.

As if in response, a sail boat – the same from earlier that day? – emerges from the mist and illuminated by the moon’s warm glow you can see the lone figure that steers it without an eyeglass.

Clive. Your heart skips a beat as it sinks in – no Joshua, no Dion.

But it is Clive.

The boat collides into the pier with a thud and he flings a rope out to secure the vessel. You bend down and grab it in shaking hands, looping it around the cleat in a knot that Obolus would’ve raised a judgemental eyebrow at, but it’ll hold and that’s all that matters.

You don’t wait for him to get off the boat - you can’t - instead jumping from the dock, causing the vessel to rock violently side to side in your enthusiasm as you land, truly putting your knot to the test, but how could you stand there? You cup his face, your hands still shaking from adrenaline. You can tell he’s weary, dark circles under his eyes but he’s here, he’s real.

“I told them you were coming back.” Your voice breaks, the tears you’ve held in for days finally flowing down your cheeks. “I told them.”

“I made you a promise, my lady.” His voice is thick as he holds in his own tears.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, though something feels off about the embrace. There isn’t much time to pinpoint what exactly, as Torgal jumps into the boat and knocks you both down, happily licking his master’s face.

“Hello, boy.” He laughs, breathlessly, patting the wolf hound on the head. “I’m sorry to have kept the both of you waiting.”

Torgal barks happily in acknowledgement, before backing up and jumping back onto the pier. It’s as if he knows the two of you need this moment alone. Clive raises a hand to caress your face then, wiping away some tears with his thumb. You lean down and kiss him - soft, frantic kisses, tanged with salt. His arm wraps around your waist, but something cold and hard rests on your back instead of a warm palm and you sit up in realisation. He sits up slowly after you, holding the limb in front of his chest.

“Oh, my darling…” You touch his petrified fingers delicately, afraid that they may break. “Does it hurt?”

“No. It spread no further than my elbow, though it should’ve.” He sounds almost bitter.

“Don’t say that.”

“It should have, for the amount of power I wielded… But all I could think about was what I promised you, my lady. I’m sorry it took me so long to return to you – a row boat was no longer in question.” He jokes, but it doesn’t sound sincere. He hesitates, staring at his hand, doubt in his voice. “Will… Will you still have me?”

“Always…” You take both of his hands in yours, no hesitation. “..and in all ways, Clive. I love you.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “As do I, my darling one. I love you – always, and in all ways.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[blythebewitched]

Dogday Headcanons:

These headcanons are parts of my AUs in my Discord Server.There are ships. No human kids or Canon Game Lore are associated.

Tales From The Playcare AU:

Dogday is the original leader of the smiling critters. He was replaced as leader by Catnap when The Prototype took control. He's been reduced to Catnap's assistant and toy.

When he was made, he was intended to be an "angel" that runs security and oversees The Playcare. He was given the Sun Pendant and a wing suit to have access certain parts of the building. Only the leader has these privileges.

This good boy has the sunniest disposition and first impression, however, his job was never easy. He secretly suffers from VERY LOW self esteem. He has depression, ptsd and struggles to see himself as a good leader. Ever since Catnap took over, he's seen himself as nothing more than a failure. Leadership is a curse to him.

Catnap was his best friend before the Prototype influenced him. Dogday knows its still his buddy, but he changed so much, he thinks his best friend is dead and gone.

Despite this, the closest person to him is Kickin. Every smiling critter has been manipulated to follow the prototype, but Kickin seems to hold onto the past just as much as Dogday.

He misses the relationships he had with the other critters. They all changed so much . . .

During the "bigger bodies" project, Dogdays wings were accidentally added to his skeletal structure. He can hide his wings in his back.

Don't tell anyone . . . But Cat wasn't the only critter to have special abilities. When DD was created, the humans gave him a wing suit for two reasons. To "glide" over the Playcare for security runs and to regulate his minor levitation/gravity abilities.

DD is actually too big now to "glide" or "fly" so he keeps his wings away. If he does pull them out, he can't flap his wings. The gravity ability got amplified accidentally . . . He can give you a heart attack by flapping his wings now.

Dogday has a personal hideaway in the Playcare. (The "sun" is a room above the Playcare). There's a LOT Cat and TSC don't know about DD.

DD has a Playcare staff. It doubles as both a weapon and walking stick.

Basic Headcanons:

Dogdays scent is Vanilla. (He loves the smell, but hates that it makes him seem so BASIC and unoriginal).

DD loves Cat very much . . . Even after everything.

Kickin has Lil Bro status with him.

DD plays acoustic guitar and taught Kickin electric guitar.

HE CAN SING. Like . . . Crazy good singing.

His entire outward personality is ADORABLE. He has the best smile, laugh, energy. Its a shame it covers up his worser parts so well.

He and Cat went from bffs to master/slave to doomed lovers.

He has a spacesuit from one of TSC Show episodes. He likes the helmet.

DD can light up. So can his pendant. This good boy is literally the sun. Bright mf.

DD destroyed every picture of himself from the past. EVERY PICTURE. He really doesn't like looking at himself anymore.

Dogday dances like a pro too! He's very talented.

Did I mention that he learns REALLY FAST. (Bubba once learned the HARD way to be careful what he does/says/acts/shows DD).

Dogday has ALOT of moments where he acts like an actual dog. Face licks, headpats, playing fetch, you name it. He'll get pouty if you call it out tho. He likes acting like a real dog and gets embarrassed when people laugh about it.

[misselysia]

Clive x Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

pairing: clive rosfield x (female) reader word count: 1658 (much more than originally planned lol)

Part 2, yay! As always, criticism and suggestions for improvement are welcome!✌️ Special shout-out to the dear @drabblesandimagines You can't imagine how much I adore your work and writing-style. I always get so giddy when reading your newest oneshot. No. 1 fan here✧༺♥♥♥༻∞

On your way out, you immediately felt bad, but your mind told you to forget about it.

He deserved better than you...

A week passed by and luckily the Hideaway's routine became a great distraction, but no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of him crept into your mind like persistent shadows.

You desperately wanted to do something about it, but those words kept replaying in your mind.

He deserves better than me.

He deserves better.

Jill - his best friend since childhood. Like a sister. Oh sure... She was perfect from what you could tell. A fine Lady with the finest manners. As if they were made for each other. It always hurt seeing them together. What a selfish thought to keep him all for myself.

It hurt even more thinking about it. You wanted those thoughts to stop but they kept haunting you. Thinking that a bit of fresh air could do you good at the moment, you strolled down to the pier in the Hideaway. Nighttime always had that calming effect on you. After finding a spot to sit, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and take in the breeze of the sea. Having a moment where you didn't have to worry about anything was really pleasant. But that night still kept replaying in your mind.

The way he pulled you onto him... How close the two of you were... What could possibly have happened if you hadn't run away...

You snapped your eyes back open, a deep sigh escaping your lips. "Not again..." You inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to get rid of the thoughts. Not until you felt something soft nuzzling into your side, accompanied by a gentle yawn. Only then did you realize it was none other than Torgal. A smile tugged at your lips as you began to pat him gently. "Good boy. What are you doing here huh?" You couldn't help but to wonder as to why the wolf would be here out of all places. "Did you decide to take a break from your owner?" Your own question brought a soft chuckle to your lips. You caught a soft, happy noise from him, as he cozied up comfortably beside you, stretching out and relishing the scratches you were giving him. "Ah, Torgal, what should I do? Your owner just won't leave my mind. But it's clear we're not meant for each other." You continued rambling, mostly to Torgal, but also to sort out your thoughts. "I mean, I'm just me, you know? Tarja's apprentice and running errands all over the Hideaway. And then there's Clive... well, he's Clive. By the founder, he's still a Rosfield. A Lord. And on top a Dominant. He's just everything!" Your frustration was evident in your exclamation.

As you were pouring out your thoughts to Torgal, a voice broke through your monologue, interrupting your internal struggle. "Everything, huh? I... didn't expect you to think so highly of me."

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head in surprise. There stood Clive, leaning against a nearby post, a half-smile playing on his lips. He looked effortlessly handsome, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, his deep blue eyes fixed on you with an unreadable expression. Your cheeks flushed, caught completely off guard by his sudden appearance. You hadn't expected him to be here. Though that would explain why Torgal was here. Stammering, you managed to find your words. "Clive, I... I didn't expect to see you here." He chuckled softly, pushing himself off the post and taking a step closer. "Well, I figured I'd take a walk down by the pier. And it seems Torgal had the idea before me." Torgal shifted, curiously looking at his owner. Clive smiled before giving the wolf a gentle pat. "Good boy. You keeping Y/N company?"

Your heart raced, torn between wanting to run away and wanting to stay and face the situation. Clive's presence was overwhelming, and the memories of that night kept flooding back. You averted your gaze, trying to gather your thoughts. "I... I mean... yes, seems... he had the same idea before you." Clive's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression softening slightly. It's the first time you've actually spoken to him since that night. "Mind if I join you?" You managed a weak nod, unable to find your voice. Clive settled down beside you, mimicking your position by the pier's edge.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" He remarked, looking out at the blighted, yet moonlit water.

You finally found the courage to speak, though your words came out in a hushed tone. "Clive, listen... about that night at the infirmary... I'm sorry I ran off like that. It's just that, well, it was all so unexpected, and I didn't know how to..." He turned his gaze towards you, his blue eyes, by the founder you loved his eyes, holding a mix of amusement and understanding. "It's alright, Y/N. I admit I might've caught you off guard. But I've been thinking about that night too." Your heart raced at his words, your feelings in turmoil. "You... have?" He nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I have. And I've been wondering if you've been avoiding me because of it." You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers playing with the fabric of your dress. "It's not that simple, Clive. You're... well, you're you, and I'm just... me." He reached out, gently placing his hand over yours, stilling your restless fingers. "Y/N, you don't have to compare yourself to anyone. You're your own person, and that's what makes you so special." His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself looking into his eyes, a sincerity that made your heart flutter. "I... I'm just not sure about all of this. It's complicated." He smiled warmly, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "Life is complicated, but sometimes, it's worth taking a chance." Torgal let out a contented whine, as if sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Clive's presence was reassuring, and a part of you wanted to believe his words. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking a chance, even if your heart was still unsure.

As the moonlight danced on the water, you felt a glimmer of hope within you, a small flame of possibility that maybe, just maybe, you could find something meaningful amidst the complexity of it all. But of course your mind had to complicate it even more. "What... what about Jill?" You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat as you continued. "Jill is wonderful, Clive. You two have history that I can't compete with. She's been by your side for so long." Clive only leaned in closer, his voice soft but resolute. "Jill has always been a dear friend, a sister, but that doesn't mean my heart isn't capable of making its own choices." Before you could reply, his hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. And then, in a moment that stole your breath away, his lips met yours in a gentle kiss. It was soft and tender, filled with unspoken emotions you had been struggling to voice.

As he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, searching for a response. "Y/N, I don't want you to doubt yourself. You deserve happiness as much as everyone else. I'm not looking for a shadow of Jill. I'm looking for you." Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of emotions overwhelming you. His words, his touch, the kiss - all of it was like a balm to your insecurities that had plagued you. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath to steady yourself. When you opened them again, you found Clive still looking at you, waiting for your reaction. You let out a shaky laugh, a mixture of relief and vulnerability. "You have your way with words, Clive." He smiled, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped. "I just speak from the heart." Your lips formed into a smile of your own, the weight of your doubts beginning to lift. "Clive, I..." He reached out, his fingers gently touching your lips to silence you. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready, Y/N. I don't want to rush you." You appreciated his understanding, but something in you had shifted. The emotions you had kept locked away for so long were finally finding their voice. You placed your hand on his, holding it against your lips for a moment, before looking back into his deep blue eyes. "No, Clive." Your voice got steadier now. "I want to say this. I need to say this." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. "I love you, Clive Rosfield. I love you for who you are, for how you've helped me see beyond my doubts, for the way you've shown me that happiness is worth pursuing. Just now, I fell even harder for you." Clive's eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion as he looked at you, his thumb gently tracing your lips. The moonlight played on his features, casting a surreal glow around him. And then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face, his eyes never leaving yours. "I love you too, Y/N.", he said, his voice carrying the weight of his feelings. "I've admired you from the moment we met, but now... my heart is truly yours." In that moment, it felt as if the stars above were shining just for the two of you. Clive leaned in, and this time you met him halfway. Your lips brushed against each other, a sweet and tender kiss that sealed your feelings. As you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths intermingling. You felt his arms wrapping around you, holding you close, and you felt the truth of his affection in every touch.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to get some fresh air after all...

[oatmilk-vampire]

Off My Mind || Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson x gn!ex!Reader

(Read part 2 here)

Summary: Eddie and his ex agree to meet up to talk over their relationship, but instead of getting back together as they originally intended, things get worse. Mostly Eddie POV.

Inspired by one of my favorite songs Off My Mind by Joe P. Give it a listen!

Word count: 1.2k of angst. Just angst.

TW: suicidal thoughts/ideation. Please DO NOT READ if this could be triggering for you.

A/n at end.

~~~

You and Eddie “went on a break” six months ago.

It was just supposed to be a few days, but soon one weekend turned into a week, and that week into a month, and now here you both are. You had finally reached out, asked him to meet you at the Hideaway to discuss your relationship.

This was meant to happen months ago, but it hadn’t and Eddie knew why. He knew you were going to end things for good instead of keeping him in relationship limbo. Not dating, not yet broken up. But he knew better. He knew it was over the day you walked out. You were just coming to clear your conscience, to smash his already broken heart.

You were just as gorgeous as the day you left. He used to call you his Angel, but now he knew better. Still, you were no devil; but he now had confirmation as to what you really were: an angel of death.

You had been there long before him if the empty glass on the table was any indication.

Instinctively he almost ran to you, wrapping you up in his arms, but then he remembered the nature of this visit and kept his hands to himself sitting across from you when in the past he had only ever sat on the same side.

“Eddie,” your voice wobbles but is still sweet as honey. “Thank you for meeting me. How are you?”

How is he? How is he, really? Well let’s start. He never went back to Hawkins after he recovered and you left. What was the point? If his lack of a high school diploma was really holding him back that much he would just get a GED, but he hadn’t done that yet and he knows he never will.

You fiddle with your damp napkin, ripping the corner off before setting it down.

“I’m going to go get another drink. You want anything?”

You didn’t even wait for his response to your first question, why would he think you’d bother waiting to hear his response to your second one?

But to his surprise you did. You stood there, staring at him, small smile on your lips only to be kind.

“Vodka soda.”

“Okay, be right back.”

While you go get another drink he thinks of ways to tell you he’s fine.

He would never tell you, but he pregamed before coming here. That’s why he’s so late. He drank more than he should have considering he drove himself. What’s one more vodka soda? Maybe then you’ll never even know that he’s lying.

He’s thinking about how you never said goodbye. You hadn’t, neither of you did. Goodbye meant you weren’t seeing each other again.

“Sorry about the wait.”

“‘T’s fine.” You don’t miss the way he slurs before he’s even taken a sip of the drink you’ve just bought him.

“How are you, Eddie? I’ve missed talking to you.”

“Got myself another lover.” He blurts out without considering how it’ll hurt you, or maybe he does. It's a lie anyway. He hadn't even wanted to touch his own body after you left, why would he let some random person?

“Oh. You do? That’s nice, I’m happy for you.” You on the other hand are not lying. You are happy for him. But that doesn’t stop your heart only being held together by a small thing called hope just irreplaceably shattered.

“God, I love her, I’ll never stop.”

“I’m happy for you.” You repeat, a tight smile on your face as you blink back the tears.

“Take her out and drive around and show her all of our favorite spots.”

“Eddie,” you begin but he cuts you off.

“I used to sit and cry. I felt like I could die.” His voice is so cold it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t want your drink anymore, even if it was just a coke.

His eyes find yours over the rim of his glass just before he gulps it down.

“But now you’re off my mind.”

You left him pretty soon after that and despite his slowed movements and long-gone inhibitions he realized he fucked up. He just let you walk away from him for the second time.

You were supposed to be better by the summer, at least. You began having your problems in spring. The two of you chalked it up to the horrible strain fighting Vecna put on you, but you had every intention to have your relationship repaired by summertime. But summertime came and you were long gone.

Eddie doesn’t even blame you anymore, not that he ever really did before. He knows you deserve better. After all, you’re an angel and angels need to spread their wings.

Despite the hole he found himself growing darker the longer you two were apart, tonight’s the first time he’s actually considered it. It seems like a cliche, an outdated option, and yet he has every intention of drawing himself a bath when he gets home and making toast in the tub while still wearing all of his clothes. It’ll be the last outfit you ever see him in. Unless you come to his funeral, but he’s pretty sure Uncle Wayne will put him in some stupid suit, or have a closed casket depending on how fried out his hair looks. He doubts you’ll even come.

But the thought of tears pricking your eyes as you sob over his coffin makes him second think his plan. Despite his swirling mix of emotions he has never wanted to hurt you, he still doesn’t.

He drives home, knowing Uncle Wayne isn’t home tonight. Eddie had told him he planned on meeting with you so he cleared out, fully anticipating you’d be joining Eddie back home. Eddie didn’t have the heart to tell his uncle he hadn’t worked out that way, that he really lost you for good now and it was all his fault. Uncle Wayne would learn soon enough when he found his remains the next day, though.

He doesn’t even remember making it into the Munson trailer, let alone remembering if he had locked it back up after he’d entered. He wasn’t worried about it, though. What would anyone steal? Everything of any value was already gone.

He makes his bath, trying to decide if he deserves to burn in as much scorching water as the shitty plumbing allows or if he should freeze. In the end he decided on the cold side of the faucet, it would take less time.

The small tub is just about filled by the time he returns with their toaster. He only feels guilty when he realizes Uncle Wayne won’t be able to make toast in the morning anymore.

He plugs it in, thankful their bathroom is so small that the outlet really is placed haphazardly close to the tub. There wouldn’t be any issue with him reaching over and knocking it in.

He settles into the freezing tub, his wet clothes clinging to his body make him feel so much colder and weighed down. He watches as water sloshes over the side thanks to his bodyweight.

Usually he’d consider smoking before to take the edge off but he was already feeling much more relaxed.

Because now you’re off his mind.

~~~

Author note: I had a different, slightly less angsty more whump/happier ending in mind and luckily it'll still work if you guys want this to become a two-shot? (:

This isn't much but it was on my mind (ha) and I needed to get it out in order to focus on my other WIPs. I wrote this in one sitting.

I have never written a Y/N or Reader fic before, but currently have 4 more gender-neutral ones in the works with much happier endings.

Thank you for reading <3

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

[onepagelovestories]

I made a discovery/theory that I thought I might share in case it's of use or interest to anyone else!

How big is Valisthea?

TL;DR - It's just Scotland, Cymru (Wales), Ireland, and England but flipped upside-down and photo bashed a bit.

These are just purely my observations, so I'm throwing them into the void!

So, for fan fiction purposes (and just general peace of mind), I really wanted to figure out exactly how big the twins were, considering how insanely quick everyone moves around. This is obviously true for video games in general but I felt it a lot more in FFXVI than other comparable games imo.

There's not a ton to go off of, just some throwaway dialogue lines here and there that give you the general sense that you can move from one location to the next in a day or two primarily by foot (chocobos are a whole other side tangent, as is the Enterprise or whatever the hell Dominants are capable of).

Some of those specific references include;

The trip from Rosalith to Pheonix Gate and back taking an expected 5 days total (with Clive, Tyler, and Wade arriving that night despite the detour through the marshes),

The boat ride from Port Isolde to Drake's Breath taking 3 days,

Someone from the hideaway referencing that they leave for Lostwing each day for work. (Couldn't find the exact example don't quote me on that one.)

Twinsides/Origin being "Hundreds of Leagues" away from The Hideaway

There's probably a few others, but most of the other examples I could find were open to interpretation, merely implying that travel took place in the same day but could be interpreted to have been spread out over longer were it not for 'video game logic and scale'.

That being said, I like things being a little more grounded for head canon purposes and wanted to know how much down time was reasonable in and between trips back and forth.

In general, I feel like the game should have been spread out over the full 5 years. But understanding game development limits, I get why that'd have been a nightmare! So the time skip makes sense practically, and I just choose to headcanon that events are a little more spread out. (Like them taking the full year in 873, from Clive and Jills rescue to destroying Drakes Head, rather than a couple of weeks like it seems in game.)

Shout out to this reddit post for doing an awesome estimate based on an average measure of the aforementioned "hundreds of leagues" quote. This was my starting point.

They concluded that Valisthea was likely closer in size to India or Australia, which I like a lot in terms of Valisthea being a full-scale continent. However, it does mess with the timeline a lot.

Also, I'm from a large country so my sense of what is a "reasonable" distance is pretty thrown off compared to a lot of other places. A 2-5 hour (200-400km) car ride to another city is nothing in my head until you realize that distance would take 1-4 weeks to walk or even ride (Horse metrics. Again chocobos are weird and probably a bit faster due to being all terrain and more robust than horses but are also birds so I don't know what endurance levels carrying heavy loads would be like).

Soooo, I began looking for European contemporaries since the game is very eurocentric (and all the criticisms that come with that).

Which led me to the realization that Valisthea is literally just the UK and Ireland, but flipped.

Now. Am I 100% certain this is what the devs did? Of course not. Is it so damn close that I'm 99.9% certain? Yes. Storm is Britain, and Cymru. The Northern Kingdom and the Iron Kingdom are Scotland but broken up. And Ash is Ireland and Northern Ireland.

Major cities or points of interest all have approximate real-world contemporaries and even follow geographical features on the map in that there are matching rivers, topography and even highways.

The biggest giveaway to me was Pheonix Gate just literally being London, as well as Norvant Valley matching exactly in shape with an upside down Bristol Channel (which would put Caer Norvent in Swansea). Even The Greatwood lines up relative to a major national park (forgive me UK peeps, it's hard to tell from a map alone if that's all one giant forest or several parks smooshed together).

So, if we're working off that assessment, with the quote from Tomes where he mentions that Valisthea is a small continent, then the time/distance ratio makes a lot more sense!

Of course, by our world standards – the UK alone does not a continent make.

But I'm honestly ok with that? I'd rather the land mass be small to match the timeline rather than warp the timeline to match the land mass.

So, here's a list of some of my estimated real-world contemporaries for all major landmarks on the Valisthean Map. Of course, they don't line up 1-1, and are not at all reflective of the locations themselves. It's all just for a relative sense of scale.

Rosaria;

Martha's Rest - Oxford

Eastpool - Reading

Pheonix Gate - London

Rosalith - Cambridge

Port Isolde - Peterborough (ignoring that it's not on the coast)

Deadlands

Cid's Hideaway - Stratford-Upon-Avon

Clive's Hideaway - Birmingham

Sanbreque;

Lostwing - Tauton

Caer Norvent - Swansea

Northreach - Exeter

Oriflamme - Kingsbridge

Kingsfall - Salisbury

Dhalmekian Republic;

Kostnice - Leicester

Drake's Fang - Sheffield

Dhalamil - Derby

Dravozd - Wolverhampton

Tabor - Shrewsbury

Boklad - Lampeter

Ran'Dallah- Tregaron

Waloed;

Shadow Coast - Belfast

Eistla - Kinnegad

Edge of Infinity - Westport

Ravenwit Walls - Wenagh

Stonhyrr - Cork

Other;

Twinsides - Fishguard

Kanvar - Chester

Drake's Breath - Ipswich

Dzemekys - Aberystwyth

Going off of those locations, I was able to get the rough time/distance of certain trips (using google maps metrics in pure walking hours not how long it took them because of *variables*)

Routes;

Rosalith to Pheonix Gate: 86km, 20hrs

Hideaway to Pheonix Gate: 172km, 39hrs (to Martha's Rest: 67km, 15hrs; +Eastpool: 41km, 9hrs; then to Pheonix Gate: 64km, 15hrs)

Hideaway to Oriflamme: 295km, 68hrs (Hideaway to Lostwing: 184km, 43hrs. What shortcut Cid?? +Northreach: 48km, 11hrs; +Oriflamme: 63km, 14hrs)

Lostwing to Caer Norvent: 199km, 46hrs (Benedika and Co were at that fort for days, not hours. Also, how hard did Cid knock Clive out if it took more than a week to get back to the Hideaway after the Garuda Fight?)

Shadow Coast to Stonhyrr: 755km, 171hrs. (Shadow Coast to Eistla: 169km, 38hrs; +Edge of Infinity and back: 181km, 41hrs x2; +Stonhyrr: 224km, 51hrs) meaning crew were gone in Waleod for WEEKS.)

So, all in all a bit longer than in seems in game but still well within range given that they probably shaved off arbitrary travel days for narrative flow.

That being said, I love the potential of more "down time" moments. And it really shows just how often/long everyone would be gone from the Hideaway at any given moment.

It puts into perspective Gav's side quest, "You keep sending me wherever you need to, I'll keep going. Safe in the knowledge that I'll have a home to come back to." And how they all remark that they never seen each other, or how much their trips away together were really meaningful.

(Also kinda excuses the fact it took Clive and Jill 5 freaking years to get together. They were too busy walking everywhere!)

Is it possible to just pop down to Martha's for a quick supply run? Yes. But unless you're on a chocobo, you're camping out at Three Reeds then staying the night at the Inn before heading back. It's more of a 4-7 day trip rather than an afternoon and back.

Anyhow, I hope this all makes sense!

Now, time to go write about Clive/Cid camping overnight in the Greatwood together on Clive's first real night of freedom. 😭😭😭

[afterthegreatunknown]

Randomity: The Song is a Big Old Mood

“I can’t believe I lost my deck of cards!” Fernald grumbles as he trails behind beside Fiona, as the two of them begin walking down the stairs. “We search my room and turned it inside out! How the hell could I lose them!? If your annoying little friends have something to do with it—”

“Again, why would the Quagmires want with your cards? Even though they have every right to do things to spite you, they won’t swoop to this.” Fiona slowly starts bopping her head up and down. “Well, two-thirds of the Quagmires won’t swoop to this.”

“Two-thirds? That doesn’t help my problem at all!”

“Yes it does.” Fiona’s head bopping moves up a pace, and hums for a bit. “Quigley and I were ready to join up with his siblings at the park when you began screeching at the top of your lungs. That means the thief would have to be either Duncan and Isadora.”

“Oh, great.” Fernald hangs his head low. “And with both of them equally having beef with me, I’m no off better than we were before this part of our conversation and our search.”

Fiona briefly hums once again, with her head bopping now in sync with the low singing from the family room. “If you want, I can go ask politely on your behalf so they won’t—”

Fiona reaches the third-to-last step before stopping in her walking and bopping her head. “Do tell me I’m not the only one hearing that singing.”

Fernald stops walking. With Fiona having better hearing of them two of them, it makes sense she notices first. Fernald can the low and bit rather inaudible singing. Inaudible not in the sense that the singer forgotten the words, but because of the distance of being a room away from its origins. That said, the few words that are audible is “an octopus’ garden.”

“How the hell did Stepfather get what is very likely, a cassette player?” asks Fernald quietly.

“Forgot about that for a moment,” hisses Fiona, taking one more step before jumping off the penultimate stairstep—for the first step makes a creak that needs to be fixing. “Let’s ask how did Stepfather found a copy of the entirely that is Abbey Road!?”

“That’s what you’re worried about!? Fiona, we don’t have anything in the house that can play music!” Fernald runs down the stairs —jumping over the first step— and pass Fiona. “Dumpster diving or not, whatever he got, he has to go return it to where it belongs!”

“I’m pretty sure if Stepfather dumpster dived for it, that means he technically owns it,” replies Fiona calmly. “One person’s trash can be another person’s new personal property.”

Fernald doesn’t reply back. All he does is make his way to the family room, where Stepfather is sitting on the floor, legs crisscross applesauce besides a beat-up looking cassette player, as Fernald guess. Stepfather is intensely focus in his hand-sewing, sewing a patch on sturdy heavy jeans a dock worker would wear. It makes sense really, considering Stepfather’s new job.

Stepfather is bobbing his head as Octopus’s Garden continues playing, clearly not realizing someone has just enter the family room. Fernald —and Fiona, who is soon besides him— keeps quiet as the next parts of the lyrics play in the air:

 “We would be warm/Below the storm/In our little hideaway/Beneath the waves.”

“Truth to be told, I quite like this song,” whispers Fiona. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it a bit longer.”

“Resting our head/On the seabed/In an octopus' garden/Near a cave.”

“Well, I don’t. No way in hell I want to have another Beatles earworm stuck in my head for the next several days. I can’t believe Stepfather, and you apparently, can stand and listen their nonsense without it eating your mind,” whispers Fernald back. He then walks his way to the cassette player, and his hook over the stop button.

“We would sing/And dance around/Because we know/We can't be—”

Upon hearing the song stopping, Stepfather pauses his sewing. He looks up to stare at Fernald, and blinks a few times. “Fernald, if you were that upset with the volume, I could have turned it down had you asked.”