#fanfiction anniversary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stormhearty · 2 months

Text

Pairings: Former Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Triggers: nightmares, mentions of blood, death, depression

Summary: It has been several years since your death and your tenth death anniversary is coming up once more. It had, and always will be, a difficult time for the Inner Circle — the regret and remorse evident in the River House. Even though it had been a decade, the evidence of the loss of your light still echoed heavily throughout Pyrthian. Here are how the Inner Circle copes and mourns during the death anniversary.

Note: From this request! Thank you for sending this request and for loving Pushed to the Edge! I do hope this is a bit of extra angst for the ending. It's mostly in Azriel and a bit of Rhysand's POV. We all know that Feyre mourns often the reader's death (since she goes to Day Court during the burial), so I thought it would be good just to mostly focus on Azriel's and a bit of Rhysand's. Also, the meanings of the flowers I placed in the description for Helion’s ceremony for the reader’s death:

Calla - beauty Cattail - peace White Heather - protection Purple Hyacinths - sorrow Ivy - affection White Poppies - Consolation, eternal sleep Tea and dark crimson roses - Mourning and I’ll always remember Sweetpea & Cyclamen - Goodbye, departure Amaryllis - Pride Pink Carnations - I’ll never forget you Iris - Your friendship means so much to me

I hope you all enjoy!

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

His hands shook as they dripped in blood, warm and sticky. Hazel hues followed the trail of blood to a familiar body.

A cry of grief escaped his lips as he crawled over to your body, Truth-Teller piercing through your chest. Your body was unmoving from its prone position. Azriel gently cradled your body in his arms, tears blurring his vision as he looked at your features — one that was etched with so much pain that his heart ached at the sight of it.

“I’m so sorry, my love… I… I’m sorry that I abandoned you, I’m sorry for my infidelity towards you… I’m sorry that I killed you. I’m just… so sorry…” He was sorry for many things. There were too many things he could apologize for but none of them he could whisper to you to bring you back to him. He would have to pay for his transgressions for the rest of his immortal life — the Gods would never give him another chance with her; the Gods would never gift him with another mate as amazing as her.

He was about to press another kiss against your forehead only to watch shadows, his shadows, rise from the ground and slowly start to wrap around your body.

Azriel growled at them, “Leave us alone, leave her with me.. that's all I ask. Don't you fucking dare take her…!”

They didn't listen to him as tendrils of darkness fully wrapped your body before taking your body in whips of shadow. He tried to grab your body before it disappeared but failed.

“No…!!!”

Azriel woke up with a start, chest heaving as he painted, his hand stretched out as if to grab something — your body — from the shadows. His body wracked with a strong shiver, before he slumped against the headboard, a groan escaping his chest as he ran his hand over his face.

Another nightmare.

Every night, for the last decade, he would dream of you — in all different scenarios — ones he would have you in his arms, in bed, sweet and gentle moments; others ( and most of the time ) it was your death, feeling the echo of the mating bond resonate in his chest, watching your body die in his arms, or even watching himself stab you through your heart.

Ever since that fateful day, he has not gotten a decent night’s sleep. Dark circles stained underneath his hazel eyes and those hazel eyes, that used to shine for you, have dullened. Very little things had made him brighten up nowadays — probably the only thing was the birth of his nephew, Nyx. And Nyx has been the only thing that has kept him surviving all these years — along with living with the guilt and pain of your death.

Azriel let out a muffled sob, pressing a hand against his lips as he allowed the nightmare to pass wracks of shivers through his body. Hazel hues shifting from his sweat-stained bed to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the glow of the full moon beaming down into his room.

He knew he wasn't going to get another wink of sleep tonight. Slipping out of bed, bare feet pressing against the cool wooden floors, he slipped on a simple black tee and sweatpants before stepping out of his room, and down the spiral staircase to the massive garden of the River House.

Azriel usually avoided the gardens, knowing that Elain would be there tending to them.

Their relationship was non-existent at this point. After your death, he cut off all contact and interactions with her, feeling disgusted with himself with even just the sight of her.

For the first couple of months, Elain tried to rebuild her relationship with the Inner Circle; however, after her lies were exposed, it had been a tough road. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel had ignored her, to the point that Rhysand had ordered Elain to live in the old Townhouse to give comfort to the rest of the family. She would only come to the River House when Feyre would ask her to help tend the gardens. Otherwise, even the Archeron sisters had little contact with the middle sister.

Azriel’s feet led him to a familiar part of the gardens, the only place he would go to that would calm the echo of the empty mating bond in his chest.

After your burial, Feyre sent the image of the statue that Helion had created in your making to the Inner Circle. And in honor of you, Rhysand made one as well — a statue of you, but in Night Court fashion — the opposite of your image in Day Court. Wearing a dark blue dress, one covered with stars, with a moon circlet on your head.

Azriel basked in the statue’s liking to you, seeing the moon’s light radiate behind the statue like a halo made him smile — just a tiny bit. He shifted, sitting down on the bench that was in front of the statue. He leaned forward, pressing his elbows onto his thighs.

“…Hi my love…” he whispered as he looked up at the statue, “Another nightmare… brings me to you.”

A sigh escaped his lips as he felt tears prick the edge of his eyes, and he blinked to fight them away. He has fought so many tears every night, that Azriel felt like his whole body had dried up with how many tears he had shed since your death. He knows he shouldn’t complain, that his grief was evidence that he deserved all the things he had done to you. We all will continue to live with our betrayal. Live and regret, as Rhysand and Cassian told him that day.

Staring back up at the statue, his eyes glanced up at the twinkling stars above Valeris and muttered the singular wish, a wish he had wished for every year, “I hope that at Starfall I will see your light twinkling in the skies above, where you will streak across that beautiful night sky, finding your peace…”

After sitting in front of that statue for several hours, he decided to fly up to the House of Wind to the training balcony and train there. He forgone his black shirt and focused on his training, using every ounce of pain and grieving to train. He stayed up there, time passing quickly until he felt the claws of his brother scrape down his mental shields. Azriel sighed and looked up at the bright blue sky, not even noticing how the day had become midday, the hot sun beating down against his sweaty skin.

“…Azriel…” a light, airy voice called his name.

He let out an animalistic growl before he grabbed his shirt from the chair he had flung it onto, slipping it on his form before spreading his wings to fly. He heard the quickened steps, seeing Elain in his peripherals, the middle Archeron’s sister’s eyes begging at him to look at her.

“…Stay away from me, Elain… I swear to the Gods, if you try to look for me again, I’ll have my High Lord and High Lady dump you on the borders of the human realm to leave you to their discretion…”

Elain frowned at him, stepping into his view, “You cannot put all the blame on me. I have tried to win you and my family’s graces back… I don’t know what I can do to get on your good graces again…”

Azriel glared at the Made-Fae, “… No, I cannot put all the blame on you, I blame mostly myself on falling for you. I never realized why I had after being mated to (Y/N) for nearly fifty years… I could have had my forever with her… And yet, my blind infatuation with you cost us that. I don’t want to do anything with you, as my way to repent… my way to live and regret for the rest of my immortal life without her…”

With one last glare, and without letting the Made-Fae say anything else, Azriel shot off into the mid-day sky, waving through the cool air of Valeris and back to the River House. He landed on the balcony and entered, walking into the large dining room where his family was situated. He noticed the solemn air that coated the room as he sat down in his usual spot, next to Mor and across from Cassian. Hazel eyes wandered the table and noticed the absence of his High Lady.

Rhysand noticed the look from his Spymaster and answered the unasked question, “Feyre went to Day Court this morning…”

That was all it took for realization to hit Azriel — it was your tenth death anniversary this week. A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back against his chair — ten years without your light. No wonder he felt horrible that day, no wonder why his nightmares seemed to be worse than ever before.

It was as if his subconscious knew.

Azriel knew that after this breakfast, he would be able to crawl back into bed and cry there — he didn’t have to do anything for the rest of that week. He would be able to wallow in his depression in the comfort of his room.

Rhysand, after the first year of your death, had declared that week a period of silence — a mourning period that allowed Valeris and most of Night Court to grieve over your death. To repent and live. It was a week where he didn’t send anyone on missions, and stores throughout Valeris were closed over the week.

The Inner Circle ate in silence, the clattering of silverware was the only thing that echoed in the grand space. No one said a word, though Azriel could feel the shifting gazes towards his way. His fingers gripped the silverware in his hands, feeling the metal bend in his strength. A frown tugged on his features, suddenly losing his appetite. He placed the utensils down, the evidence of his slight anger on the bent pieces of metal, before standing up.

He could see Mor, in his peripheral shift slightly. Azriel huffed slightly, unaware of the looming energy he was radiating until he felt a tap against his mental shields. Hazel eyes looked over to his High Lord who had given him a raised brow.

“Reign in your anger, brother… We are just worried, as usual,” Rhysand had whispered into his head.

They know how hard it has been for him over the past decade. The Inner Circle had been present through every nightmare, every depressive episode, every self-loathing that Azriel had gone through — and is still going through to this day. All of them had tried to help him lessen the burden of regret; however, they knew that the Spymaster would never let anyone shoulder his pain — not when he was the cause of it.

Azriel felt his tears line his reddened eyes, “…I know, and I thank you for that, brother… May I just grieve on my own… May I be excused?”

Hazel and violet eyes stared at each other for a moment before Rhysand nodded his head, “I will tap on your shields again when Feyre is at the ceremony…”

His head nodded before the Spymaster stalked out of the dining room, feeling all eyes on him. He climbed up those spiral staircases again before entering his bedroom with a slam of his door. A shiver wracked through his body, eyes shutting close as he tried to prevent another breakdown. He shuffled his feet, towards the bed and lay there.

He will never be okay — no matter how many decades, how many centuries have passed, he will always feel that emptiness of the bond in his chest. He would never feel you tug on that golden string that connected the two of you, nor he won’t hear your laugh whenever Cassian or Mor would tell you a joke. He won’t feel your fingers trace along his scars or place ointment on his hands whenever they were cramped and strained after a mission.

There were days — which were the worse of them — when he would hallucinate you were still alive. In that very bedroom, he would feel, smell, and see your very figure walking through that room. He could see your light, he could hear your voice… but whenever he would reach out to try to hold you, touch you, you would be gone in a whisp of light.

Azriel hated those days. He would find himself in a heap on the ground, crying. His brothers or even Mor would find him in that state at the end of the day and would plead for him to go to bed and rest. And with their help, he would lay in that large bed, bigger than his wings would span out to, to just stare at the expanses of that ceiling. Rest would never come to him easily anymore, not without a tonic from Madja or if Rhysand would slip into his mind and coax him to sleep.

He would continue to live on as an empty shell — one that would continue life without feeling your light.

Rhysand let out a shaky breath after Azriel had left the dining room, a hand running through his dark locks as he slumped against his chair.

It had been difficult, the last decade was like walking on broken glass around Azriel. The High Lord knew that his brother was suffering, but Rhysand also knew it was the consequences of his actions — of all of their actions against (Y/N). All of them, especially himself and Azriel, would continue to suffer for it.

Rhysand was thankful to the Mother that Feyre had been there throughout the past decade to help shoulder the pain, to shoulder the regret. And he had tried to do the same with Azriel; however, the former Shadowsinger wouldn’t let anyone touch him, wouldn’t let anyone help him through his emotions. And he watched as Azriel broke himself apart because of his pain. The High Lord watched every single day, every year, for the past decade, his brother becoming a shell. Even when he had sent Azriel on missions, the Fae would come back, finishing his assignment quickly and swiftly, though Rhysand could see blood and bruises that contrasted against leather.

Every time, every single time, Azriel had returned from those missions, Rhysand had seen the increased amount of wounds against immortal skin. And when confronted, Azriel had whispered in truth, “It’s the only time I feel pain… To feel the echo of the pain against my skin… Any other time, I can’t feel anything…”

That had broken the High Lord.

He had banned, much to his dismay and Azriel’s anger, the former Spymaster to go on said missions. He had changed Azriel’s title, and became an emissary, along with Mor to the Continent. Azriel hated him — and probably still hated him to this day. But it was the only way to keep his brother from hurting himself, from being hurt, and to keep his family together — as much as possible.

The High Lord stood up from his chair, giving a small smile to his family as he left the dining room and walked his way to his office, allowing the silence to seep into his body. Rhysand busied himself with work, the only thing that would occupy his time and mind during the week of mourning. If he didn’t, he would, like his brother, be stuck in his mind — in his nightmares — of failing you as your High Lord.

He felt a tap of his mental shields, his mate scraping and sending down a wave of love towards his end.

"Are you okay?” Feyre asked him and Rhysand leaned against his chair and allowed his mate to send visions of her time at Day Court.

“I think so… Just, trying to keep myself occupied you know. How is it at Day? How is Helion?”

“He’s probably the same as you and Azriel.. all of us, mourning. But he’s keeping up appearances, he is ensuring this year’s ceremony will be grand. It is her tenth year being gone from this world…”

Rhysand wouldn’t hold it against Helion if this ceremony would be a grand, beautiful one to celebrate your life… to mourn for your death. You had, after all, deserved it. You had risked your life, your light, to protect all of Prythian… you had to be celebrated one way or another.

He watched the vision of the grand Day Court halls, lined with Calla, Cattail, White Heather, Purple Hyacinths, Ivy, White Poppies, and Tea and dark crimson roses — all flowers that echoed the sentiments of all of Prythian. It was a gorgeous sight, one that Rhysand wished to see in person. Tears pricked his eyes as he wiped them away with a finger, as he felt another wave of support from his mate.

"Be safe, darling Feyre… If you need me to take Nyx, do just call me… I can take him from your hands…"

A small laugh echoed, and in his head he could see the image of Nyx standing next to his mother, looking up at the golden statue of you.

"I think he deserves to know who she is, Rhys… He will be fine…"

With one last tug on that bond, Rhysand closed the connection between the two of them.

A book, he had thought, a book would be good to immortalize your story. With ink and paper, he started to write… determined to ensure your story would be known for centuries to come.

A tap against his shields started Azriel from his stupor. He straightened in the armchair he had occupied in his bedroom, eyes darting to the window to see what time of day it was. He hadn’t slept for the past few days, his nightmares plaguing him even while awake. He would mindlessly walk around that room, keeping himself occupied to keep the nightmares at bay. He didn’t sleep, he hadn’t showered — he wallowed in his sadness.

And so when that scrape of darkness against his mind startled him out of his sadness, he lowered it slightly to allow his High Lord to send him the vision that his High Lady was sending him.

Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes as he saw that magnificent statue of you at your grave.

Oh, how he wished and begged for the Mother to allow him, even for a brief moment, to bask in that golden statue — to feel Day Court’s sun mimic the warmth that you had always radiated.

He watched from that armchair the ceremony, hearing Helion speak so fondly of you. Azriel could hear the High Lord’s voice crack and break at every mention of your name. He could see the pain in his features as he talked about how it had been ten years since your death. He watched as Helion looked at that statue with so much fondness — a father, mourning the loss of his child.

The ceremony lasted a couple of hours, allowing people to walk up to the statue to place all types of flowers on top of that gravesite. He watched as the familiar hands of his High lady held up a bouquet — a mixture of Sweetpea, Amaryllis, Pink Carnations, Cyclamen, and Iris — to the statue before placing it down on the grave as well.

He heard her whisper words of fondness, love, and regret before stepping away and back to her spot in the crowd.

The last thing he heard, was from his nephew, who whispered to his mother, “I wish to have known her… She is well loved, even after she has died…”

That had choked not only Azriel up, but he could feel the pain in Feyre’s voice as she looked down at the boy who was merely ten years into his immortal life.

“…I wish you could have known her as well, Nyx… She was a light in everyone’s life. She had made your uncle’s life the best it had been when she was still with us. We wish we could have done so much better to her…”

Azriel watched as Feyre caressed the black locks of his nephew before the vision passed. And all Azriel could do was cry — cry his love, his sorrow, his regret.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #azriel x reader #azriel angst #( .inbox request : death anniversary )#( .one shot : pushed to the edge )

325 notes · View notes

shuichiakainx · 4 months

Text

Today officially marks 15 years since Matt was announced as the #Eleventh Doctor in Doctor Who Confidential. Matt was 26 years old at the time and not yet known, and now he has become known all over the world with millions of fans! I'm so proud of you Matt ❤️

254 notes · View notes

waywardstation · 2 months

Text

I'm Glad You're Here

It is Akari's sixteenth birthday, and a surprise party is thrown for her. She isn't able to appreciate it as much as she wants to though, and Ingo can tell. Emmet also struggles with facing his first birthday without Ingo, but Elesa is there for him.

HAPPY (VERY LATE) SECOND ANNIVERSARY PLA!! What a wonderful game that has given me many friends and creatively compelled me for more than two years!! I tried to get this out on the date, but lots of things made it very hard to. So now it's out on valentine's day instead, so I'll just excuse it with saying this is my love letter to PLA haha, and it fits with palentine's day, as it contains a lot of appreciating friendships and found family.

I wrote this including three prompts that I had gotten, such as requesting something about Akari or Ingo dealing with their birthdays in Hisui, Ingo and Akari acknowledging the found family dynamic I write them with, and Akari talking a little more about her own family.

OR read it here on AO3!

Enjoy! —————

“Goodnight, Akari!”

“Hope you had fun at your party, Akari!”

“Happy birthday, Akari!”

Standing by the Galaxy Hall’s doors with Ember at her feet, said teen thanked partygoers and bid them goodbye as they trickled out into the chilly autumn night. Protecting themselves from the ongoing rain as best they could, they were quick to make their way down the steps and back to their village homes.

“Oh, Professor! Rei!” Turning away from bidding goodbye to Darego and thanking him for the photos he took, she saw Laventon and Rei were next to leave. “You’re heading out now too?”

“Unfortunately so,” Laventon seemed a bit sheepish, as if apologetic for leaving despite the event having already ended. “Early mornings filled with paperwork are not the most forgiving of late night festivities. Otherwise we’d stay and properly take care of that whole disaster upstairs!”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Akari waved him off with her hand. “I already said Ingo and I would take care of it! Honestly he’s probably already done by now, so it’s fine, you guys can go home! You both already did so much for me tonight with this whole party, anyways; I don’t know how you did it!”

Laventon returned the smile she gave them both with one that was twice as big, seeming very proud with the compliment. “Well it was quite a delight to finally reveal all this, I’ll say; having to keep all of it hidden from you for the last few weeks was by far the hardest part!”

“You did a good job, I had no idea until everyone shouted ‘surprise!’ , honestly.” Akari shrugged her shoulders, giving a little laugh about it. “Thank you for all of this, Professor.”

“You’re most welcome, my dear girl!” Laventon held her in a tight embrace when she stepped forward to give him a farewell hug. “Once again, happy birthday!”

“And Rei, you too; thank you so much for the party,” She next reached out to grab her friend’s arm and pull him into a hug when Laventon stepped aside.

“Well of course-!” He choked out with some strain, crushed in her sturdy grip but doing his best to return the embrace. “You deserved it!”

As the two moved out the door to head back for the night, Laventon gave one last look back, shielding his eyes from the rainfall with one hand. “I hope you have a very good night, we’ll be seeing you tomorrow!”

“Yes, goodnight Akari, happy birthday!” Rei added on, following behind.

“Goodnight, guys!” Akari made a show of waving and bidding them both goodbye, but as Laventon made his way down the steps first, she reached forward and grasped the end of Rei’s scarf, tugging him back.

“Rei, wait!” She whispered, pulling her confused colleague back to her. “Real quick-”

Before he could even protest, Akari reached around behind the Galaxy Hall’s door, and handed him a small woven basket. Holding it out, she waited for him to take it.

“Here, take these. I know the Professor would say no if I tried to give it to him. But it’s for you both, as thanks for putting this whole party together for me.”

Rei studied the basket for a moment. Quickly picking up the sweet smell coming from inside, he put his hands up. “Akari, thank you but we couldn’t take that, those are yours!”

“I know, but please; I love Radisa’s cakes, but I also have a ton of dango from Beni, and Cyllene got me all those imported pastries from the Ginko Guild, and Floaro made me a whole box of muffins…” Akari explained, numbering all the confectioneries with the fingers on one of her hands. “There’s no way I can eat all of them by myself, and I’d rather someone gets to enjoy them rather than let them be wasted!”

“Rei!” Amongst the rain, the professor’s voice called out from down by the units; he’d finally noticed he was gone. “Are you coming?”

Looking back over his shoulder at the call of his name, Akari took the chance to shove the basket into Rei’s hands, to his surprise. “Hey!”

“Uh-oh, yours now!” Akari put her hands behind her back and took a step away from him, a mischievous grin on her face — Rei was now entirely stuck with them. “Guess you gotta take them now!”

“You can’t just- that’s not fair!” Rei seemed stuck between amusement and exasperation as he looked between her and the professor’s direction, caught in the middle of two different options and no proper time to consider them. He shook his head.

“Agh, fine! Thank you for these, Akari, really-” With a free arm, Rei pulled Akari into another quick hug, before whipping around to rush down the steps, protecting the basket as best he could from the rainfall. “Coming, Professor!”

As her colleague made his way down the steps and into the rain, Akari waved him off until he disappeared. Once he was out of sight, the teen’s big smile waned into a more neutral line, and she turned to go back inside the hall. With Ember quick to follow behind as she headed for the staircase, the door closed behind her.

The drizzle continued on.

—————

“Did we miss another spot?”

Ingo glanced over his shoulder from where he stood up on a chair. Akari had entered the otherwise-vacant room, Ember at her heels while she pushed stray paper streamers aside from where they dangled.

“It appears we overlooked the ceiling,” The warden returned to the task at hand, stretching an arm back up to scrub as Akari came near to watch him. “And I’ve overestimated how stubbornly bean paste clings to surfaces once it’s dried. Would you mind holding that bucket up for a moment?”

“Even up there? Man, Beugene really did get it everywhere, didn’t he?” Akari laughed as she retrieved the bucket from the table and held it up to him – she could already hear Beuregard profusely apologizing again to her tomorrow for letting his wurmple get into (then burst out of) her cake. He really could stand to keep a better eye on Beugene, seeing as Miki’s staravia almost flew off with it the other day, but she truely hadn’t been upset at the incident. It had honestly been too impressive seeing just how much cake and paste the little Pokémon had managed to splatter all over the walls, carpet, and guests to feel mad about it.

“Thank you,” Ingo dunked his paste-covered rag into the bucket, wringing the soapy water out generously before going back to work on one last spot. A couple thorough scrapes, and the last of the cake seemed to finally be gone.

Ingo handed the rag back to Akari as she reached out to take it, having already placed the bucket back on the table. She set it aside as the warden took one last look around the room from atop the chair, a final scan. “There. While I wouldn’t be surprised if a Galaxy Team member somehow finds another spot somewhere tomorrow, that should be the last of it.”

“Ok, now get down,” Akari gestured to the floor with one hand while she held the chair with the other. “Don’t want you hurting your old man back.”

“I’m not that old,” Ingo played along with her teasing as he always did. But regardless, he began to step down with a soft grunt that did suggest some tightness, at the very least.

Normally, Akari would have pursued it with more of her usual teasing, like asking how old he really was then — he always came up with something funny when she asked that. But she knew he didn’t really remember his age. And yes, he always said it didn’t bother him in the grand scheme of things. But reminding him he didn’t have that right after they had finished celebrating her sixteenth birthday felt uncomfortable, especially considering he didn’t remember his own birth date either. So she left it there this time, watching him get down.

“Well, exploding cake and its messy aftermath aside, I’d say your party was quite a success; what an array of festivities we had tonight!” With his feet back on the ground, Ingo sang his praises as he set the chair back where it belonged against the wall. “I’m glad to see the sudden rain didn’t dampen the mood; it’s good the professor had opted for an indoor celebration! I do hope you had a good time and enjoyed yourself.”

“Yeah,” Akari began to pick the few remaining scraps of colorful paper out of the carpet, though with a contradictory tone. “I did! It was really nice tonight.”

Ingo’s frown tugged slightly. He pulled down a bundle of streamers and crumpled them together, but he kept a careful eye on her. “…It was all alright, wasn’t it? Because I can understand if the whole, well, cake incident is still upsetting, what with no one actually being able to have any.”

“No, no-” Akari waved it off and turned away from him as Ember handed her a mouthful of paper she had picked up herself, though it also felt avoidant in nature. “Sorry, no, it’s not that. Really, that didn’t bother me! I’m just tired, I guess. It was a really late party!”

Ingo didn’t quite buy it with the way his features held tight. “Well then, that makes two of us I suppose.”

A couple times tonight near the party’s end, he had wondered if something was bothering her. It surely seemed so, but asking unobtrusive questions and gently inquiring if certain things were ok had come up with nothing but reassurances. But still, something felt wrong. As the evening went on, Ingo had been suspecting it went a little deeper.

And when the teen asked if he could possibly stay back and help her clean up, he was afraid it went even deeper than he initially suspected. Like, displaced-person-problems deep. Something he would come the closest to understanding out of everyone here. It was her birthday today after all, being spent in a time period she didn’t belong to. He could easily see it being a day of conflicting emotions, if that was the problem.

But Ingo didn’t know if Akari was simply seeking company from him, or conversation. And if it was as personal as he thought it was, he would never ask about it before she was ready. So for now, he would stick to the former, but he was prepared for the latter if she asked for it.

“Ok, I think that’s all of it.” cramming the last of the colorful paper scraps into a wad, Akari dropped the last of it into a bucket they’d been using for trash. Besides a table standing a little crooked, and a few chairs a little out of line against the wall, it seemed they had restored it to its previously-clean, empty state. “Thanks for staying after to help out, Ingo.”

“I was happy I could be of service,” Picking up the scraps-filled bucket and stuffing the streamers into it, Ingo went for the doorway and stood at the exit. “Before I dispose of this and depart, is there anything else you’d like any assistance with?”

Another chance for her to get out what was clearly weighing on her. But only if she wanted to. Grey eyes patiently watched her as she looked off to the side, clearly considering what to say.

“Um. I’ve got like, a ton of gifts downstairs.” Akari pointed down, in general reference to the floor below. “Would you be able to help me take them back to my unit? Normally I wouldn’t mind a couple trips, but the rain…”

Ingo gave her a flat-lined smile. “Not a problem at all. I’d be happy to help you carry the extra cargo.”

–––––

The drizzle was there to greet them all when Ingo pushed one of the Galaxy Hall’s doors open with his back, holding it open as Akari and Ember hurried out. Carefully going down the slippery steps, they hurried down the empty street to the teen’s unit, burdened with various birthday presents.

“Quiw!” Ember reached the door first, and eager to get out of the rain, squeezed through the moment Akari opened it by a crack. To the teen’s dismay, her Pokémon began shaking the freezing rain out of her fur with a vicious full-body shake.

“Ember, no! You’re supposed to do that outside!” Akari scolded the quilava as she opened the door the rest of the way, but she already seemed resigned to the fact she’d have to dry the floor and walls off later. She opened up her damp blue hanten, now bulging considerably with boxy shapes, to quickly remove the gifts she had sheltered inside it. At least they were still dry.

Ingo stepped into the doorway after her, holding his own similarly-bulging coat closed around the rest of the gifts. Akari retrieved a towel and began to chase after a protesting Ember with it as the warden placed her presents down near the door, but he then stepped back out to wait under the unit’s eave. He wanted to minimize how much rain he tracked inside – he wouldn’t add to the trails of puddles that Akari and Ember were currently leaving all across the floor.

“Ember! You’re dripping everywhere!”

“Qwill!”

Akari was completely absorbed in catching her Pokémon, Ingo could see. He supposed part of him had been curious if she had wanted him to come with her so she could share what had been bothering her – maybe she just hadn’t wanted to say anything at the party, which was understandable.

But now he supposed not, and that was ok. Maybe she’d share another day. Or maybe not at all. But regardless, he had given enough openings for it, so it was now entirely up to her on if she wanted to share or not.

“Well,” Ingo cleared his throat, “I suppose I should get going then, and leave you two to enjoy the rest of your night.” He pulled his cap down further over his eyes in anticipation of going back out into the rainfall. “But I’d like to say that I had a wonderful time at the party tonight, and thoroughly enjoyed being a part of it. I hope today’s celebrations made for a fulfilling and memorable day with those close to you, and I wish for even better ones in the future. Once again, happy birthday Miss Akari, and goodnight.”

“Wait! Ingo, wait-” Akari abandoned the chase. Throwing the towel at Ember (who was subsequently swallowed up by it in an instant), she came back to him. Arms wrapped around his middle and squeezed tightly as she hugged him. “Thank you. For being at the party, and for helping me after. And for the really nice birthday wishes too.”

“You’re very welcome.” Ingo returned the hug as best he could. “Sixteen is a special milestone, after all.”

The restraint that was Akari’s arms only tightened instead of loosening. She stood against him, turning her face into his tunic and let out a long sigh. She didn’t say anything immediately. Ingo wondered for a moment if he had said something wrong amongst those ten short words.

“...Sorry, I know you’re tired and you have stuff you gotta do tomorrow, and you’re trying to leave,” She finally looked up at him. “But, would you mind sticking around for a second? It won’t take that long. But, um, I can make us some tea.”

So she did want to talk to him.

Ingo’s frown once again pulled into a neutral line, his eyes indicating a reassuring smile behind the shade of his hat’s brim. He would certainly be tired tomorrow, but he found that didn’t bother him much in this moment. “Of course.”

—————

“I… don’t believe I follow. What do you mean it didn’t count?”

“I mean it didn’t count, because today can’t actually be my birthday. Like I didn’t actually turn sixteen today.”

With one hand absentmindedly stroking alongside Ember’s back as she curled further into his lap, Ingo watched Akari take the steaming tea kettle from off the irori. The warmth from the pit was a welcome heater against the cold breeze of the cracked-open window behind him — he would have preferred it closed, but Akari liked to listen to the rain. “But today is the date of your birthday, correct? Did we get it wrong? Oh dear, I… I apologize profusely if we did!”

Firsthand embarrassment crept close. No one ever liked to have the date of their birthday forgotten, or gotten wrong. Secondhand embarrassment trailed behind. He knew Akari would never have the heart to tell everyone they got the wrong day after everything they had planned. It must have been so awkward to know the whole time and not say anything for everyone else's sake; no wonder Akari seemed so bothered today.

“Woah, no, it’s nothing like that!” Akari briefly stopped pouring the tea, surprised at how flustered Ingo seemed to get. “Sorry! No, you guys didn’t get it wrong! And I mean technically, today is my birthday. But it's also… not?”

“...While that is certainly a relief, I’m afraid I am still in the dark.” Ingo insisted.

She had told him once that some things felt wrong, like her name. It hadn’t seemed wrong and she certainly felt it as her own, but for all she could remember, she could never recall the name ever leaving the mouth of her friends or family during moments with them. Not even her mother.

She had considered when she was put here, some personal information had been messed with in her memory to ‘protect’ things. She said it would make sense if her name was one of those things. She also said maybe she was entirely wrong and had watched too many time-travel sci-fi movies, a concept he could only dimly recall once re-explained at length.

Ingo couldn’t tell her if she was right or wrong about that. But he was aware of her thoughts on this by now, and he wondered if she had begun to suspect if her birth date was one of those altered things as well.

Setting the kettle back over the irori and getting up with the two cups of tea, Akari handed one to Ingo as she sat down next to him against the wall. Ember, who had previously been comfortable in Ingo’s lap, immediately abandoned him for Akari’s instead. “Um, ok. Let me try and think of how to explain this… Oh, wait- I have stuff I’ve written-”

Leaning over Ember, Akari reached into her satchel, now placed near her bed. She pulled out her Pokédex and set it across her quilava’s back. Ingo, both intrigued and surprised, sat forward to get a better look. She had written things down about this? He watched her flip through the back pages until she reached the sections she had been looking for.

Notes. Dates. Scribbled out nothings. Timelines of the year by its months. Arrows, jumping backwards and forwards on said timelines. Numerous question marks etched deep and dark with frustration.

Page after page. Attempt after attempt trying to understand.

Ingo blinked, keeping down a reflexive mouthful of questions. Whatever this was, it had been bothering her for a long time, clearly. And she had been trying to figure it out by herself the whole time, because this was the first he had heard or seen anything about it.

“Ok, so I remember that before I was put here, when I was still at home, it was almost spring. It was at the beginning of the year, nowhere close to my birthday! But after I got here, and I first showed up on Prelude Beach,” Akari held up the Pokédex, tapping at the page. “I learned that here, it was almost fall. And only a few weeks after my birthday!”

She was tapping at one of the many timelines she had made that took up two pages, surrounded by notes and question marks, and overall seeming to be one of the simpler ones. All of the months of the year, in chronological order. There was a blue dot on March, and on August, a red dot — an arrow connected the former to the latter.

“I skipped like, five months ahead into the year when I was brought here. Kind of. I went back in time, but like, that doesn’t affect my age, does it? So looking at it that way, I really just kind of lost five months, if I went straight from March to August?” The notes lost Akari’s gaze as she blinked up at Ingo, as if wondering if she was even making any sense to him. “Right?”

“Uhm,” while the diagram she had written out certainly helped visualize the jumble somewhat, this was still a lot for Ingo to process. He sat back, scratching under his hat with one hand. “I might require another run-through or two to fully comprehend it, but I believe I’ve grasped the gist of it. That seems probable.”

Perhaps it was because he himself had no birthday, year, date, or even season of his own to compare with as a reference point anyways, but he’d never really given much thought to something like this. It made sense though, he thought. Just because someone went back in time on a certain day, doesn’t mean they’d show up in the past on that exact same day, down to the second. Akari certainly could have showed up here, with the year five months ahead from when she left her own time.

Not that it even mattered much, but maybe something like that had happened to him as well.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I know all of this sounds so confusing, and all these scribbles probably aren’t helping. It was hard trying to figure this out with nothing but books to use as reference.” Akari seemed to become self-conscious of her rant; she closed her Pokédex and set it down at her side, replacing it with her cup of tea. “But I know dates aren’t the same. It was technically my birth-day today, yes, but not my birthday . It hasn’t been an actual year since my last birthday. I honestly don’t count myself as turning sixteen for another five months.”

“Well, I can understand the conflicting emotions with the celebrations now.” Ingo swallowed down a long sip of tea in order to verbalize his sentiments. He did not understand, though. Not entirely. When he listened to her talk, he heard confusion, and perhaps a little self-directed frustration. He didn’t exactly hear the well-hidden sadness he saw at the party.

This didn’t feel like it was all of it. But he was beginning to suspect he knew what the rest of it was, and he would not broach it himself.

“It was entirely unintended, I’m sure you understand, but all the same, I’m sorry to hear that the party brought up unwanted reminders.” He added on another statement to address it as best he could, more genuine to his true thoughts. “I’m sure the others would be too, if they were aware.”

“I know, I know… and I feel bad about that.” Akari confessed. “But they didn’t know. And I don’t want them to.” She looked down into her tea. “It wasn’t like, obvious that I was bothered at the party, was it Ingo?”

“Not particularly,” He half-lied. It certainly hadn’t been obvious, but it had been enough for him to suspect something, at the very least. He couldn’t speak for anyone else though, and he doubted anybody would ever be able to guess the reason if they did notice anything. “I don’t believe anyone would suspect themselves as the cause of your troubles.”

“You were asking me a lot tonight if I was ok.”

“An exploding birthday cake can be quite a distressing matter.”

The dry humor got a little laugh out of Akari. “…Yeah, ok. But. It’s just…”

Ingo waited.

“I don’t know,” she stumbled, though Ingo could see she very clearly knew. “The party wasn’t really the problem. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate everything they did, because I really did! I know it took a lot of work! But… I dunno.” She stumbled again. “You saw the party tonight. It was huge! And it’s not like it wasn’t super fun, because it was, or that it was too much for me or anything, because it wasn’t , but I kind of just…”

Akari shrugged, looking off to the side. Ingo watched her, patient as she set her cup down on the windowsill behind them and began fidgeting with her scarf.

“I don’t know, I guess I wished my mom had been here to celebrate it too.” Her voice wavered for a moment. “Even though I know that’s impossible right now. I just didn’t want her to miss it. Or more like do it without her, I guess. She would always talk about how turning sixteen was so big and so important, and it was going to be a special milestone. Just like what you said earlier.”

Oh. So it was something he had said.

“I think my mom was looking forward to this birthday more than I was!” Akari continued. “SO I felt bad that I did it without her. And I really miss her a lot, all the time. And I know she doesn’t know what happened to me. And I’m worried about that, and I just… Yeah. I didn’t want her to miss it.”

Ingo bit the inside of his cheek; it was what he suspected it to be – missing her family. Her mother.

But despite all the growing suspicion he let build up inside him over the course of the night, shamefully, he still wasn’t quite sure what to say. Akari’s mother was rarely the topic of their discussions, on account of the teen’s own emotional distress over it. Ingo never tried to bring it up on his own, and treated it with caution the few times she would bring it up herself, but it meant words always came slowly and with much difficulty when they would turn to it.

“That’s why today just can’t be my birthday. I want to be back with my mom by the time it actually is.” Akari kept handling the fabric of her scarf. “Because tonight I just kept thinking about how she was missing it. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever have something like that again. And I’m afraid that she thinks that too.”

“Oh, Miss Akari,” Ingo set down his own cup as she looked back up at him, sniffing with newly-misted eyes that threatened to well up. The sign that that was all she was going to say on the matter, and she was done. He opened his arm when she leaned closer to him, and she slumped into his side at the invitation, rubbing at her eyes to catch anything before it could fall. “I’m so sorry, I know you miss her dearly.”

A child separated from their mother. A mother who doesn’t know what happened to their child, or if their child is dead or alive, and is only more inclined to assume the former as time goes on. Except the child is not, and has no way to reassure the mother, or comfort her — no way to tell her she’s still alive, and that she hopes she doesn’t somehow suspect it’s her fault, and that she’s thinking of her every day while trying to find a way back to her.

It should not be this way.

But it is.

Ingo’s heart hurt; did he leave behind some terrible situation like this as well? Broken hearts and unanswered questions? It was easier for him to forget possibilities like this sometimes, when memories were not there to remind him of them.

“I do.” The teen settled more comfortably, rubbing at her eyes again when Ember reached up to lick at any stray tears. Her voice was shaky, but not uncontrolled — she took a deep breath to regain it. “It is really hard.”

Gears were turning in Ingo’s head, trying to figure something out. What could he say to this? She had been upset to the point of tears, and he wanted to comfort her. But he could not offer a promise to her, telling her she’d get back to her own time, see her mother again, and celebrate with her the way she wanted. Because as much as he wanted it to happen for her, he just did not know if it would. And Akari knew he did not know. Telling her something like that would just be empty, and maybe even painful. And he felt that lamenting the ghosts within white-out memories was a different kind of heartache compared to the vivid grieving over separation from one’s mother. Or maybe it was. But he didn’t know if in trying to console her with relatability, he would end up referencing too much loss, or not enough. What could he possibly-

“But it’s been easier. With you around.”

All the overworked lines speeding through Ingo’s mind halted. “...Oh?”

“I mean, you’re like the only other person in this entire world that can understand this whole thing right now. Like, really understand it. Even though I know they’ll listen, I don’t really know how to bring this stuff up to other people sometimes, because these aren’t things that anyone can really help.” Akari went on, seemingly not even noticing that he had mentally stalled. “Like I obviously couldn’t tell Rei or the Professor the party made me feel like this after all the time they spent putting it together for me, that would be terrible. And I don’t know how obvious it was, but I kind of took a long time working myself up to even tell you tonight. Even though to me, you’re like my, um…”

A very heavy pause as she mulled over her words.

“...I don’t know, my time-travel buddy here.”

Akari pet Ember as she talked, who by now had settled back into her lap, seeing as there were no more tears. Ingo found some appropriate humor in the title she gave him, but was otherwise quiet. She wasn’t finishing her sentences with a tone that suggested she was really done; it seemed like she kept wanting to say more but was cutting herself short.

“So… thank you for listening to all that. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to that really understands what I’m talking about.” Was all that came out instead, all that summarized her feelings on the matter. “I just wanna say I’m glad you’re here too, so I don’t feel so out of place, or lost, here.”

Ingo took in a breath, ready to thank her for such kind words and add in a reassurance that yes, he was there for her, but it seemed the moment of silence had led to quick reflection, then overthinking; Akari became noticeably flustered, suddenly leaning off of his shoulder to sit up straight.

“I mean, wait, no-” She stumbled. “I’m… I’m not saying I’m like, happy you ended up here just to make me feel more comfortable or anything, of course not! It’s terrible that it happened, especially the way it did! Obviously! I’m just-”

A pause to gather her thoughts.

“I’m… thankful I have someone else who can understand my situation, and helps me. And I’m not alone in this. Is what I’m trying to say. If that makes sense.” Akari finally killed her choppy ramble by taking a hasty sip of her tea.

“I understand,” Ingo tried to reassure the flush of embarrassment on the teen’s face; it hadn’t come across like that at all. “And as long as we’re being honest, I must admit I hold similar sentiments.”

He leaned his head back against the wall. Staring at the square of dim moonlight stretched across the floor from the window behind them, he watched the shadows that the rainfall projected as it came down outside. She told him she appreciated that he listened and talked through these things with her, but he hadn’t said much of anything yet. Well, now it was time to do that.

“I hope I’ve been transparent enough about just how much your arrival has changed my tracks for the better.” He started slowly, idly turning his cup of tea in his fingers. “From when I first arrived here until our routes crossed, I felt… entirely derailed. You know that. I’m even sure you can recall that disposition from when our tracks first crossed.”

“Yes,” Akari slowly allowed herself to settle back against his shoulder. She didn’t really give their first meeting much thought these days. Looking back, it felt polarizing to compare him to the man she had first been introduced to, now paling as distant and directionless in comparison to how he was now.

“But I’ve regained an amount of myself that I thought was indefinitely lost due to your assistance. I know that I lived in a time period comparable to yours, if not the very same — wouldn’t that be something?”

It had to be the very same, Akari just knew it was.

“I also know that I conducted many exciting battles alongside someone who enjoyed them just as much as I did, if not more. And I know that this someone was similar to me in many ways, and very dear to me. Perhaps family, from what I’ve gathered at this point. And while the identities and locations are still quite blurred, I’ve recovered many fragments that indicate I was fortunate enough to be loved by friends and family, seemingly up until my sudden derailment.”

Akari recalled the times when Ingo first remembered these things. When she first helped him recover shards of these cracked but significant recollections, whether purposely or accidentally.

He always cried.

Whether that was uncontrollably in the moment with her, or later in the evenings when he had resigned himself to the privacy of Lady Sneasler’s den, there were always tears.

She knew it hurt him to recall such loving, warm, comforting memories when all his situation did was serve as a reminder that it was out of reach, had been for a long time, and may still be for much longer. Questioning if it would ever be felt again by the same people who extended so much love to him, and he couldn’t even do them the decency of remembering their faces. Weaponized grief accusing him that it had all been taken for granted – that it hadn’t been appreciated enough back then.

Akari knew, because she would cry over similar things when she was alone at night, sometimes.

But she could do that. She was a teenager. Teenagers could cry.

Ingo was an adult. Adults could cry too, but it always felt harder to deal with when it was them. Especially when it was Ingo. Ingo, someone who always comforted her. Ingo, who didn’t cry.

At least, he didn’t before he started regaining these memories that she’d helped recover.

“But, it…” Akari looked down into her cup of tea, conflicted. In a way, she felt like Ingo was thanking her for simultaneously helping and hurting him. “I mean, it feels like-” She didn’t know how she wanted to phrase it. “-I know it hurts a lot sometimes, to remember. Would you… knowing what you know now, would you rather not have, um…”

It seemed Akari was becoming disheartened with the question, probably beginning to find it an insensitive question to ask. Ingo understood what she was getting at, and she realized that.

“Nevermind,” she finally ended the struggle and cut herself off. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” Ingo reassured her. “It can be quite hard, yes, to know what I’ve been removed from. It weighs heavy on my heart when I stop to reflect on it. But I know I have something to return to now. And while it can be painful at times, it is, to me, a welcome change from the plaguing hollowness of loss and confusion. I would not have, well… myself without you, and for that I am immensely grateful.”

It was heartening to see his words put her at ease, but he realized he was getting off track from what he was trying to express.

“ Ahem, all of this is to say; likewise, Miss Akari, if I had any say in the matter, I would not wish for you to be displaced here either. Yet you are. And as unfortunate as it might feel sometimes, all one can do is make the best of their situation. And there was nothing either of us could have done about our destination, but your presence at this station is a pleasant one, both in company and agency.” Ingo cleared his throat. “I am thankful for our friendship.”

“Me too…” Akari sounded almost choked up again, her voice quiet. “ See, you always know what to say. Thank you.”

The ambience of the rainfall against the unit’s eave became prevalent as conversation died. They sat like that for a while. Whether listening to the rain or replaying the conversation in her head, Ingo didn’t know what it was that Akari was doing. But the relative darkness in the room, the internal warmth of the tea, and the relaxing pattering of rain against the roof outside was a very dangerous combination for him. His eyes were already growing heavy, he should probably get going before he falls aslee-

“Hey Ingo,” The warden started when he felt a bony elbow suddenly nudge him in the side. “When we both get back, I’m gonna have another birthday party, one on my actual sixteenth birthday, with my mom there so that she doesn’t miss anything this time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Ingo yawned, sitting forward to help rouse himself from the weakening grip of sleep. She was treating an ‘if’ like a ‘when’, and he sometimes warned her about doing that, but he found that right now especially, he couldn’t not indulge her a little.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna have tons of balloons, streamers and confetti everywhere.” Akari leaned her head against his shoulder to look back at him. “Like so much, even five days after the party, you’ll sneeze and confetti will still come out.”

“Every proper birthday party needs that.” Ingo couldn’t help but huff a laugh through his nose at the visual she’d constructed. “What colors for the theme?”

“Everything’s gonna be blue, of course!” She knew that he knew her favorite color would be the only choice. “You know that! Oh, and also, one birthday cake that’s the size of two! To make up for the one that exploded today!”

“What flavor?”

“Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. So everyone can have a flavor they like. And-” Akari sat up and fully turned to him, like this next part was serious. “I'm gonna have every single one of my friends and family come. So that means you’re going to be invited too! And anyone else you wanna bring! I’ll get to introduce you to everyone there!”

Ingo smiled. Because it did sound nice, truely. But the small smile quickly dulled. Indulgence aside, he didn’t want to encourage setting herself up for hurt. “You know I would love to. And if I can, I certainly will. However… Miss Akari, I truly hate to bring it up, but please be mindful of what we’ve talked about. I wouldn’t want there to be… any hurt. In case our tracks do not run as close as expected.”

Hopeful prospects built upon skewed expectations are terribly vicious if time reveals those expectations are wrong. It would leave deep wounds if they did go back to their own times, only to be separated by a gate of decades that stretched so far, they’d only ever be able to assume that’s what had happened, and never know for sure. But it would hurt more if they had convinced themselves that would not happen and took that as fact.

And so Ingo did not.

And while Akari had said over and over that she did not either, he could tell that really, deep down, she did.

And all of this wasn’t even considering the very real possibility that Ingo might not have a ticket back home like she did. She had told him time and time again that she’d drag him back by the arm if she had to, and stop anything that tried to keep her from doing so, but… what was a teenager against the Unknown?

“I know, I know.” Akari said it with concerning brevity. “But we have to come from the same time. How could we not? You also know what Pokémon gyms are, and contests! And you actually know what double battles are, too. And you know what cellphones are, and pizza, and video games!”

“It is… convincing.” Even though it was more vague than anything that narrowed things down to decades, not a single year, Ingo decided to just leave it there for now. This was not something to talk about at length tonight. Not after all she had just told him.

“So you’re gonna need to come! I really want to introduce you to my mom. I know she’d wanna meet you after all you’ve done for me! Knowing her, she’d probably try and repay you with tons of home-baked things, and I need to warn you she’s going to hug you with the strength of an ursaring trap.”

“Ah, well now I know where you get that from.”

A quick, simple sentence said without much of a tone, but Akari caught the humor of it. She laughed into her tea. “No, hers are like three times as strong as mine!”

With her leaning into her cup, Ingo did not see the playful look she gave him in the stretch of silence.

“And, just thought you’d like to know, she’s single too…”

“O-oh-” Ingo found himself sitting forward suddenly, his ears steaming hot with sudden embarrassment at the implication. Arceus, of all the ways for her to confirm his suspicions that a father probably wasn’t present. Surely not- “I- no no, with all due respect Miss Akari, I don’t think that would-!”

“Kidding, kidding, I’m kidding!” The teen shouted in between laughs, pushing his shoulder playfully and giving him a big, stupid smile. “Geez, you’re always so easy! I know! That wouldn’t work anyways, you’re like… the weird, distant uncle I didn’t find out about until like a year ago, if anything.”

“Weird uncle?” Ingo snorted at the notion, perhaps a bit too loudly — he hadn’t been expecting that, but it was certainly less heart attack-inducing than the former proposition.

“Yes!” Taking his laughter as disagreement more than surprise, Akari shoved his arm again. “I mean, you let me do a lot of things that I don’t think responsible parents would let kids do-”

“Because I’m- I’m not your parent,” Ingo hastily tried to correct her, still somewhat processing the topic. “And I’m not letting you, I’m simply ensuring you’re performing the proper safety checks when doing them!”

One would have much more success trying to properly equip her with tools and knowledge than to try and stop her from doing anything she was set on doing. Anyone who knew Akari well enough would know that.

“Yeah, well, I know my mom would kill me if she knew of all the dangerous things I was doing, and you don’t. There.” The teen poked him several times to drive her point home. “That’s what uncles do. And, you respond to my jokes with more jokes, and you like all my pranks-”

“I wouldn’t say all of them,” Ingo squeezed in, shaking his head but allowing himself to laugh a little.

“-and you let me hang around you like every time I come by, and you listen to my problems, and you help me when I need it-”

“You make it out to be a chore, I assure you it’s not-”

“-and! And! I don’t know how you do it, but you can fall asleep anywhere within like, thirty seconds.” Akari started snickering, looking back at him to see his reaction. “You were doing it like two minutes ago! I’ve only ever seen three types of people do that.” She began numbering off with her fingers, “Dads, uncles, and grandpas. You kind of best qualify for the latter in that area because you’re like, super super old, but…”

“Hey!” Now it was Ingo’s turn to nudge her with his arm – she was already joking with him again. She laughed more freely this time, quickly settling back against his shoulder.

“Point is, you’re um, kind of what I wished my actual uncle would have been like when I was growing up… if that’s not too forward to say. You’re the weird, distant uncle. Except the weird is a good weird, and the distant part wasn’t your fault. I appreciate that you um, basically look out for me here. It helps with missing my mom.” She finished, ending it by returning to her cup for another long sip of tea.

What a confession.

Ingo had known she had grown very attached to him over the months, and he could not deny he had done the same. She had made it very easy, he supposed; her frequent company filled time that had previously been spent alone, and those times were much happier now. And while he had grown to feel some sense of responsibility over her – she did often follow advice or guidance from him anymore, so logically there was some responsibility there – but he hadn’t thought much past it. He never felt like he had to.

However, she basically just admitted she felt like his ward, if he could compare it to anything. He had not known she had grown to see him like that, exactly – he wasn't sure he even saw himself like that – or when that had even first begun.

But it was comforting, in a way. Whether he had a spouse or children before Hisui, he did not know – he very much doubted it, but realistically, he didn’t know for sure. And siblings? Or parents? The scratched-out faces and names that haunted his cracked memories never made it clear. Those people could have been family, but they could have also been just close friends, and while that was certainly family in its own way, it was… hard, not really knowing.

And although he certainly did consider the Pearl Clan his family in Hisui, eternally indebted to Irida and the rest of the clan for their kindness to him, the circumstances of his acceptance had unfortunately felt purely obligatory or pitiful by some. It felt... different. And he didn't know if that would ever change.

So it was nice to hear someone call him family.

Akari had never said that phrase explicitly, but basically confessing of her own volition that she saw him as a member of hers was, in all honesty, painfully consoling and cathartic.

Ingo realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He turned to address the teen; she was sipping the last of her tea, but her cheeks were pink now, eyes down as she pet Ember with her other hand – she had grown self-conscious of her vulnerability in his silent processing, perhaps thinking he didn’t reciprocate the proposed connection. Or worse, he thought she was clingy for it.

She had confessed everything to him that she’d held back earlier, hadn’t she?

“Well, I am glad to know I live up to the expectations then, Miss Akari.” He made sure to give her a smile, still turned down in the corners but clearly, genuinely happy with his eyes. “I believe the feeling is mutual.”

Very few words, but relieving and emotional all the same. Arms reached around his shoulders to give another steel trap hug. “Thank you. For that. And for talking with me tonight. I know I said it would be quick, but…”

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad we could talk as well.” Ingo picked it up when she trailed off, squeezing her back with an arm in a side hug.

Weird uncle.

Yeah, he supposed he could get used to that.

“Ok then, you’re definitely going to need to come to my real birthday party now, no way you can’t.” Akari finally let go of him. Ember leapt off her lap and onto the floor as she moved to stand up and collect both of their tea cups, now empty. “And you’re gonna have to start showing up to family barbecues too! And your own family’s gotta come too, so you can introduce them to mine, and we can get even more get-togethers!””

She was joking, but he could tell she also was not. Another pang of future uncertainty dampened the sentiments, but Ingo looked past it as he made his own move to get back to his feet, and help her put everything away. “I can certainly try my best to do so.”

Hmm. His own family too.

His heart ached. He did wish he could remember them. He found himself wanting to meet them just as much as Akari did, if not more. (Surely though, he did.)

A part of him once again wondered if they missed him the way he missed them. Or the way Akari missed her mother.

—————

“Thank you, Elesa. I know you didn’t have to.”

“Please, don’t even mention it! You know I’d never pass up another opportunity to drag you around with me.”

Emmet pulled his cap down over his eyes as he stepped out of his apartment to join his friend. After he locked the door, the two of them began to make their way down the stairs to the street below. “Though I’m happy to go with you, I'm sorry to hear about Skyla. That was very unfortunate timing.”

“It really was; she said she’s already feeling better, though! She just told me to tell you to enjoy the premiere for her.” Elesa hooked her arm around Emmet’s as they continued down the steps.

It genuinely had been unfortunate timing for Skyla to catch a cold only a few days before the premiere of Pokéstar Studios’ newest movie that Elesa had a part in. But even if she hadn’t, herself and Elesa had long before agreed that they were going to come up with an excuse to take Emmet in her place anyways.

His birthday was not until tomorrow, and while many things had been planned with friends and family to occupy the day with good times and love, Elesa did not want him confining himself to his dark apartment tonight. Things were often just as painful the day before, as well.

“Skyla’s name is on the ticket.” Emmet absentmindedly observed as she handed the decorated slip to him. The dozen pokeballs within his coat weighed heavy for a moment. “And all of my Pokémon will be there, not Skyla’s. Will I have to show them ID or something?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it when we get there.” She reassured him. “Again, last-minute stuff, but I can work that out pretty easily.”

“Mmm,” Emmet hummed. That seemed like it would be his only response. But as he continued to scrutinize the name on the ticket, he spoke up again. “It’s ok, Elesa. I know that this was not last minute.”

While she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, Elesa also couldn’t say this wasn’t unexpected. Emmet had always been very good at picking up on things.

She just didn’t want him to think this was being done out of pity or anything.

Which maybe part of it was, how could it not be? But moreso, Emmet was her friend. And she wanted him to have something to think about other than grief tonight.

“I’ve been saying it’s last-minute too much, haven’t I?” She asked, seeming a little rueful.

“Yes, you have.” Emmet sounded almost amused as they continued down the steps. If he was bothered, he certainly wasn’t showing it. “But you also have not said a thing to me about my birthday all week. That is verrry unlike you.”

Harassing himself and Ingo with silly cards, gaudy gifts, and at least one big activity the week of their birthdays. Making Ingo and Emmets’ birthdays a week-long, inescapable reminder of the big day they shared was Elesa’s style of celebration. Not this.

But to be fair, just like how this year was… a first for Emmet, it was a first for her too. It was a first for everyone. Emmet understood why she was walking on eggshells – their birthdays had very much been an Ingo-and-Emmet thing. One was not without the other, ever.

Except this year, it was.

It was understandable why people would be nervous to bring it up to him in all the ways they had before. They were afraid it would serve as a reminder that someone was not there anymore to celebrate it with him. And they were right, it would. But while Emmet appreciated the sensitivity, he didn’t want a careful birthday where everyone was afraid of how to handle him. It wasn’t intended, but it would be demeaning.

“I’m sorry, Emmet. I just didn’t really… know how to do it this year.” Elesa confessed what he had already known. They were practically at the bottom of the stairs now. “And I didn’t want to say or do anything that would be- I didn’t want you to be alone, or thinking of anything that’ll hurt right now. I just want you to feel as loved and appreciated as you are, not sad. Not on your birthday.”

“I do feel loved.” Reaching the bottom of the stairs and stepping onto the sidewalk, Emmet stopped so that they could talk face-to-face for a moment. “Tonight I was invited to an event that was very much not planned last-minute, with my dear friend, to see a movie that she is in. And tomorrow, I will get to spend the entire day with friends and family. And even after that, when I am back in my apartment, I have all of my Pokémon, who need me as well. You all do a verrry good job of making me feel loved. It is a good birthday already.”

“Oh Emmet,” Elesa let go of his arm to reach out for him. She settled into his shoulder as she gently hugged around his neck. Emmet reciprocated, arms secured around her back.

Emmet knew tomorrow was going to be different. Difficult, certainly. For the first time, only half of him would be there. The reminders were still daily and constant, but tomorrow they were going to be a little sharper, a little more poignant. He couldn’t avoid that. But he did not want to try and bury it – he had already slipped into that once before, and learned how destructive and painful it was. And he certainly didn’t want others to feel like they needed to as well for his sake. He was hurting, and a part of him always would regardless, but he was not fragile.

“And it is ok to talk about Ingo.” Emmet spoke into Elesa’s shoulder. “It will be his birthday tomorrow too. And even if he is not right here at this moment, I would not want him to be excluded from it.”

“Alright,” There was relief in the way she sighed, squeezing him a little harder.

“Thank you, Elesa.” Separating from the hug, Emmet gave her a reassuring smile, though it was not without a hint of melancholy. “You are a very good friend.”

At the edge of the sidewalk, a sleek black car pulled up to them and stopped, engine thrumming quietly.

“Oh, that’s for us,” Sniffing, Elesa carefully wiped at her eye and cleared her throat. “You know, Emmet, I’m really…” She stopped, seeming to think better of it. No more apologies or condolences for tonight, she was supposed to be cheering him up. “...I’m glad you could come with me tonight.”

“I am too, very much.” Emmet seemed doubly grateful for the lighter change of topic. He followed her as she led him over to the car, and opened the backseat door for her. “I have not gone with you to one of these in a while! Last time was several years ago when you took Ingo and me with you to see that terribly cheesy rom-com you had a cameo in.”

“Well, funny you should bring that up,” A bit of Elesa’s playfulness slowly began to show itself again, a smile brightening her features as she scooted across the seat to make room for him. “Because lucky for you, tonight’s movie is also a romantic comedy!”

“Blech!” Emmet made an exaggerated gagging sound as he stepped into the car after her, which sent Elesa into a fit of laughing while he closed the door. “I will be watching this for you, not for the romance!”

131 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 2 months

Text

The Worst

1.3k, Tom “Redfly” Davis x DARK f!Reader

SUMMARY: You make Tom pay for Frankie's death.

WARNINGS: I8+ DARK FIC, DEAD DOVE noncon or very dubcon p in v, implied murder, roofie, forced gun sucking, restraints, degradation, praise kink?, Dom reader. Tom survives / Frankie dies AU.

Dedicated to @romanarose who is hosting a write a thon for the @triplefrontier-anniversary.

Happy 5 years to Tom ruining everything. He's the worst, but I'm sorry to say he's also packing.

-------------

You pretended to take comfort in him during your grief. Your flirtations over the past weeks had all been a ruse, as were your advances tonight. You always had one goal – to get Tom tied up in your basement.

Finally, you had him sitting at your kitchen table drinking a night cap. You rubbed his thigh and he looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive, if only he could muster the energy. His eyelids were heavy with lust and a roofie.

“Maybe we could, uh, get more comfortable,” Tom slurred, nodding toward the living room.

You downed the rest of your drink, set the glass down, and lowered yourself onto his lap, side saddle.

“Ohh,” he muttered with his mouth barely open. “Hello.”

“I was thinking we could go downstairs,” you purred.

He swallowed, raised his eyebrows, and nodded, “Sure.”

“Frankie ever tell ya ‘bout our hobbies? Lotta fun stuff down there.”

His face gave him away. “Uhh,” he stalled, “Sounds-” You ran your hand through his hair. “-Sounds good,” Tom muttered at a horny pitch. His eyes lingered on your lips, then he cleared his throat.

“I'm gonna need ya to trust me though, Tom. Can ya do that?”

Tom nodded.

“Yes ma’am,” you whispered.

“Yes ma’am,” he confirmed, clearly enjoying this. Your dominance was a perfect fit for his being a lazy sack of shit.

“Good.”

—----------

In the basement–more of a sex dungeon, as it were–you sat Tom down in a metal chair. He let you tie him up and barely objected when you zip tied his hands behind his back.

“Mmm,” he hummed as you did it.

“Good boy,” you told him, making him blush. His eyes lazily danced across your face in bemusement. “Now I'm gonna go change,” you said.

You returned in a black lingerie set – a lacy top over a strappy, crotchless bottom. You had tucked Frankie’s old pistol into the back of the bottom piece. The cool metal made your skin tighten with goosebumps all over.

You slowly approached Tom and watched his eyes consume you. Without sitting down, you straddled him so you were standing with your tits in his face. You let him play. He nuzzled his head into your breasts, then nosed at a nipple.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, then took one into his mouth, through the lace.

“God, you worthless shit,” you laughed with faux affection.

“Heh,” Tom chuckled sadly against your tit.

He didn’t notice you reach for the gun. You used the barrel to massage yourself through your underwear. He glanced down, then his eyes snapped back up to you. “Whoa, careful with that,” he laughed nervously with the barrel pointing right at his dick as you slid the cool metal against the lace covering your mound.

“This is Frankie’s,” you said wistfully and raised the gun to admire it. You used the barrel to nudge his chin so he looked at you. He froze. “You’re gonna suck Frankie’s dick now,” you nodded and slid the barrel up his jaw, then nudged his lips with the muzzle.

His breathing was heavier and faster. His eyes were less sleepy.

He maneuvered to dodge the barrel. “Listen, sweetie,” he started. “Are you okay? Maybe we’ll just — maybe. . . watch a movie tonight,” his voice trailed off as your face made it clear you were not fucking around.

“Open.” You grabbed his jaw. “It’s the least you can do, Tom.”

Tom swallowed. “Okay,” he whispered. “You’re right.” He let the muzzle into his mouth.

“Good,” you whispered. “Go on.”

You pushed the barrel further into his mouth. “Suck it, Tom. Suck Frankie’s cock.”

His face whitened as he began to hesitantly bob his head.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be sucking Frankie’s real cock right now,” you reminded him and watched dread fall over his face. He hardly moved at all.

“You can do better than that.” You pushed the gun further into his mouth and his teeth hit the metal. “Good,” you whispered as he took as much of the pistol as he could. You held the back of his head and fucked his mouth with the gun. He looked up at you pleadingly and whined incoherently. You mercifully let the barrel out of his mouth, a string of drool falling down his chin.

“Look,” his face was serious and his tone was more sober. “I know you’re devastated. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. We can–”

“Shut up.” You crossed your wrists behind his head and lowered yourself onto his lap. Your most sensitive area met his semi-hard bulge and you let out a moan.

“Oh, Tom,” you sighed, impressed.

As it turned out, there was one area where Tom didn't fall short, and your body wouldn't let you ignore it. “Fuck,” you whispered as he hardened beneath you. You were throbbing against him. The adrenaline already had your blood flowing, and now it was flowing south. His cock twitched against you. His breath was shallow.

He watched your face carefully. He was as quiet and still as a mouse.

“Got him killed, and now you wanna fuck his girl, don’t ya?”

Tom nodded hesitantly.

You scoffed. “With friends like you,” you started. “Pathetic.” A subtle lift of his hips took all your thoughts away as his warm, hard package rubbed against your front. You had never hate fucked someone before. . . With the gun still behind his head, you nudged the nape of his neck with the muzzle and he flinched. “You’re not gonna say a word,” you warned. Then you reached down between you and feverishly unbuttoned his cargo pants.

You reached into his boxers and gasped at the smooth heat of his naked girth against your palm. “Jesus,” you whispered as you took it out. A hint of cockiness tugged at the corner of his mouth before he appeared to remember his imminent doom.

With your gun hand, you braced yourself using the back of his neck for leverage. You took your thong to the side, then spit on your hand and wiped it on his dick. God how you hated this man. You lined yourself up, then sank down with a rush of pleasure to your chest as your cunt slowly swallowed his thick length. You closed your eyes and thought of Frankie as you began to roll your hips. Your heart was racing.

He moaned nearly silently as you fucked yourself on his massive cock. You got wetter and wetter. You could feel Frankie’s presence. You could practically smell his scent wafting off of Tom. You could feel the ghost of Frankie’s hands on your ass and practically hear his whispers in your ear. Should’ve ridden his face, he said in your head and you breathed out a laugh as you rode him.

You let out a sigh and Tom shuddered. You imagined Frankie’s brown eyes looking deep into yours, and your walls twitched around Tom’s cock. You whimpered as you came.

“Fuck,” Tom murmured through gritted teeth as you choked his cock.Then he erupted inside you. You groaned as his warm spend flooded your core.

When you were finished, you sat there on his cock and you both read each other’s faces. He knew his time was up. You took the safety off the gun.

“What a way to go,” Tom muttered in resignation. He winced as you squeezed him with an aftershock.

“You took him from me, Tom.”

“I know, honey,” he agreed. “It’s okay. Kid's better off with the life insurance.”

The next few seconds felt like minutes. Your heart raced and you could see Tom’s heartbeat in his neck.

Tom took a deep breath. “Just put it in my mouth.” He nodded. “And pull the trigger,” he whispered.

His gaze was apologetic as the muzzle once again nudged his lips. He closed his eyes with his softening cock still sheathed in your warmth. You didn’t feel a thing as the hammer clicked under your thumb.

-----

Thank you for reading!

my main masterlist

#triple frontier fanfiction #Tom Davis x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier write a thon #triple frontier anniversary #Tom “Redfly” Davis x reader #female reader #tw noncon #tw rape #tw violence #tw main character death #tw suicidal adjacent thinking #toxicanonymity ☠️#dark reader #triplefrontier #triplefrontier2019 #dark!reader

132 notes · View notes

nsharks · 1 year

Note

i just wanted to say i love your writing so much and i really enjoy following simon and y/n’s relationship! i honestly feel as if you have come up with the most accurate characterization of ghost (through both dialogue and his actions) i have ever read these days and its heart-wrenchingly beautiful to see how he opens up and softens gradually over the course of all these different moments of their relationship. im glad someone else requested the beginning of their relationship (i was curious myself!) but if i could request maybe what y/n’s birthday or an anniversary would look like? what Simon would do as a romantic gesture👀?

simon can be romantic in his own way

You’re almost certain Simon didn’t know it was your one-year anniversary.

Why would he? The date of when he asked (or rather, demanded) that you be his girlfriend wasn’t something the two of you brought up or wrote down in a calendar somewhere.

And he’d been so distracted lately. Didn’t give you the details, but there was some terrorist who had been evading their efforts for almost a year now and sometimes you found him sitting at his desk with a bunch of files, caught up in it all despite being at home.

“The whole point of a break is to not think about work,” you’d tell him, pouting and vying for his attention.

“Hard not to,” he’d grumble and sigh. “You wouldn’t understand, pet.”

So when you do wake up that morning of your anniversary, you’re not surprised that Simon doesn’t mention anything about it. You sort of tiptoe around him, going about your day as usual.

He goes to the gym.

You do some work from home.

There’s a few kisses here and there and he tells you that you look cute today, says he likes the way you’ve put your hair up. But there’s no flowers or breakfast in bed or planned dinner date. Even if he did remember, you couldn’t imagine Simon doing any of those things.

It’s later that evening, when you’ve busied yourself with cleaning up after dinner, that Simon comes up behind you.

You’ve almost forgotten about your anniversary at this point, not willing to get upset about it, when he wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

Dipping his head to the crook of your shoulder, he mutters, “Did ya know that you’ve been mine for a year now?”

Your chest tightens. You nearly drop the plate in the sink. “Oh. Is that so?”

He hums quietly. “A year ago. Do you… did you remember that?”

He sounds almost hesitant. Frowning, you turn around in his arms and place your hands to his chest. “Simon… Of course I remembered. It’s technically our anniversary, you know.”

“Bloody hell,” he groans and clears his throat. “So ya did know, then? I thought you forgot.”

Your eyebrows knit together. “No, I didn’t forget. I thought you forgot.”

“You haven’t said anything ‘bout it.”

“Neither have you!” You almost want to laugh. Instead, you rub your temples and sigh. “We’ve got to get better at communicating.”

“I didn’t know if I was supposed to… do anything for it,” he says slowly. And you realize that you’ve been a bit unfair; of course Simon wouldn’t know. He had never done this sort of thing before and romance isn’t something that comes naturally to him.

You’re about to tell him it’s okay, that it’s your fault, but then he ends up telling you, “But I’ve got something for you.”

The admission is surprising. He got you something? You could count on one hand all the gifts Simon has gotten you during your relationship. You feel your cheeks warm up at the thought, but you don’t have the chance to question him.

“Close your eyes,” he requests, and you feebly comply.

Not able to see, you feel his rough hand grab yours and tug you in the direction of what you’re pretty sure is the bedroom. Once you’re there, he gently guides you to sit on the bed and you hear rummaging around through the closet.

“You can open ‘em, pet.”

And when you do, you see that Simon is standing before you with a small, plain box in his hands.

“It’s not much,” he warns, but already just the sight of him offering this gift to you, his broad shoulders slung in uncertainty, makes you impossibly grateful.

When you open the box, he sits down beside you to explain each item.

First, a rock.

“This is just…” He is huffing under his breath and pointing to it as you hold it in your palm. “Just a fuckin’ rock. But it reminded me of you. I found it when we were stationed in Austria. I know you like the color purple and I just thought… thought ya might like it.”

On this rare occasion, it’s you who is at a loss for words. You close your palm around the rock.

Not sure what you’re thinking, Simon then reaches in the box to pull out a book. The Sun Also Rises. It’s tattered and clearly been thoroughly enjoyed.

“Read this one back when we were in Prague.”

You take the book from his hands and start flipping through the pages, revealing his barely-legible handwriting throughout it.

“Wrote notes in it,” he explains in a murmur. “Marked the things that reminded me of ya. Hemingway is better with words than I am.”

There’s a few other things in the box. Small trinkets that he’d found over months of deployment. Things that he thought you might find interesting. Things that showed you how much you were on his mind during those times apart.

The last thing you find is a framed photo. Moisture growing in your eyes and biting back a smile, you realize that it’s the only picture you two have ever taken together. Simon wasn’t fond of seeing himself in the mirror, let alone in a photo. It was one you managed to sneak in months ago when you both were laying on the couch. He’s got an arm loosely around your neck and you’re wearing the brightest of glows on your cheeks.

“I thought you threw away this picture,” you whisper, flipping the frame around in your hands as if you can’t believe it’s real.

“I kept it in the closet,” he admits. “But I think… well, maybe we should put it up somewhere now.”

You swallow and meet his eyes. “You’re okay with that?”

Simon nods. “I’m okay with that.”

It seems small. A single picture of you together after almost three years, but it’s so much more than that. A statement of his willingness to push past his discomfort, his fears. Displaying his vulnerability in a frame on the wall.

Roses and expensive dinners couldn’t amount to the love you feel from him in this moment. You place the frame back in the box and lift up his mask to kiss him. His mouth is tense for a moment before it slackens against yours and you end up kissing on the bed like teenagers, touching all over each other and discarding clothing as you try to press all inches of your body against his.

Hands ghosting along the curves of your thighs, Simon pulls away to smirk, “Time for you to give me something, yeah?”

You blush. “I didn’t… I’m sorry, I don’t have any gifts.”

“Shh.”

And Simon is soon shoving off his mask, as he did a lot more these days around you, and settling his stubbled jaw between your parted legs, letting his lips and his tongue show appreciation for the anniversary gift waiting for him there.

You fall asleep at some odd hour after he keeps you up all night, marking his love in the form of soft bruises on your skin and a pleasurable ache between your thighs. The next morning (now that Simon knows that you do, in fact, care about the date he first made you his girlfriend), you wake up to find that he’s already made you breakfast and hung up the framed picture in the living room.

#thank you so much!#I’m glad you enjoy the fics #they are fun to write #this is how I imagine simon being romantic #i do imagine him getting you flowers at some point #maybe next anniversary #simon ghost riley x you #cod #simon riley x reader #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #fluff #fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

kaspavanlortsyal · 4 months

Text

Let It Be Enough - 1 Year Anniversary

"You will always be enough."

This beautiful art was commissioned from the incredibly talented Elle Noir (twitter/instagram/deviantart)! Thank you, Elle, for bringing this beautiful moment in their story to life.

This time last year, I posted the first chapter of Let It Be Enough on AO3. The butterfly effect of my simple desire to share my silly little story is unbelievable. In one year it garnered over 50k hits on AO3, and that isn't even the coolest part. I made lifelong friends, found a community of wonderful writers, and fell in love. I reflect upon 2023 and bear witness to the power of storytelling. I never thought that I'd still be writing fanfiction about Petra and Miles a year later in the form of my Fairytale AU, The Memory of Stars, and yet here I am.

The world of Avatar is magnificent. It gives me hope that the highest grossing movie of all time is an allegory about colonialism. It emphasizes the importance and beauty of our connection to the Earth (or in the case of the Na’vi, Pandora), and condemns corporate greed. I sincerely love Avatar, not just because of the nostalgia, but because of how bold it is in its storytelling.

Stories are the backbone of society. For all of human history, we have told each other stories. Stories shape our worldview and helps us convey emotions and ideas. Every person finds their own truth in the shape of words.

James Cameron is a fantastic storyteller. However, he is also a white man, and some stories are not his to tell. Many aspects of the Na’vi are drawn from real world indigenous cultures. I understand that he consulted various groups in his development of the Na’vi, but if you enjoy Avatar, I strongly encourage you to seek out own voices stories as well. Our world is troubled and complicated, but I truly believe that it gets better each time someone opens their mind to traditional indigenous knowledge. That gives me hope more than anything: the will to listen.

One of my favourite books: Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (If you're a fan of audiobooks, Robin reads the audiobook herself and it’s incredible. I highly highly recommend picking this up, especially if you like plants.)

Also, if you are playing Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora, please dedicate time to researching Residential Schools and their dark legacy in North America. You will better understand the real world inspiration of the Ambassador Program, but more importantly, you will be offering a listening ear to the important stories of survivors. Feel free to add more book suggestions to the comments as well!

Thank you for being here.

170 notes · View notes

romanarose · 2 months

Text

Ouch!

Santiago Garcia x fem!afab!reader

Join my tag list!

Triple Frontier Masterlist

Summery: You have really difficult periods, but Santi is there for you.

A one shot but takes place in the Santi period fic verse after Santi with a Reader on her Period and Gross Reality but also in the universe of Honest Mistake written with @missdictatorme

Warnings: Blood, period se, v painful periods, butthole cramps, tummy cramps, backaches, Santi's pretty fingers. mentions of breeding kink, accidentally cumming inside, mentions of plan B

Immersivity: reader can get periods, is fem, can be picked up.

This is my submission for Triple Frontier Write-a-Thon !!! come join in the fun and follow @triplefrontier-anniversary to find more fics!!!

840 words

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

“OOOOOWWWWWW!” You wine on your stomach, Santi knelt behind you.

“I know baby, I know, you’re doing so, so good.”

You were lying on a heating pad, your cramps killing you. It fucking hurt. Santi was massaging your lower back, which also hurt.

“Shut up!” You snap, then immediately apologize. “I’m soooorrryyyyyy”

“It’s okay, it’s alright.” This had been going on all day. You felt bad for snapping at him when he was trying to help, but god today was awful.

Santi had to pick you up at work, bringing Ben to drive your car home because you felt so faint. After getting home, Santi wrapped an arm around you to make sure you didn’t pass out before getting you set up in bed. It. HURT. It hurt so bad everyone in your torso and you just cried half the day away. The only time you were off the heating pad was to cry and poop and maybe throw up a bit. This was not Santi’s first rodeo with your horrific periods, and he took good care of you. Luckily, things had eased a bit by this point, although still painful, it was not unbearable.

YOur voice is muffled from the pillow. “Santi, I need you to fuck me.”

This was not what he was expecting from his pained girlfriend, face down in the pillow unable to watch The Office he had put on just for her. Santi hated The Office, he was a Parks and Rec man himself.

“Oh. Like… with my dick?”

You lift your head off the pillow. “No, with a beer bottle- yes with your dick, Santi! I heard from Will’s wife that orgasms help periods.”

“You talk about sex with Lana?”

“Oh yeah, all the time. Did you know sometimes when he eats her out he’ll put his-”

Santi shoved your face back into the pillow.

Santi set it up after helping you get up to remove your period cup, placing a towel down on the bed. You came back without bottoms but your Star Wars t-shirt still on, which Santi understood. This was to help your cramps, not his pleasure. Wasn’t his fault you still looked sexy as hell with your grumpy little pouty face, giving him a boner. Santi tried to touch you, but you snapped back.

“I’m clearly already soaked, Garci.”

He swatted your ass. “The goal is to make you cum, carino not to shove my dick in the wettest hole.

You mocked his words in a high-pitched tone, layed back down on the heating pad. God this was awful. You needed to see a doctor about this, you couldn’t go on this way. Santi’s fingers were- ohfuckinghellowowowowowwww- they were fucking magical. You’d admit his pussy eating game was not where it could be, but honestly neither was your head game. It worked. What mattered was your pussy was gorilla grip and he had a massive shlong he knew how to use, and god DAMN his FINGERS. It wasn’t long before you were moaning, Santi sliding hot cock into your bleeding cunt, fucking your brains away. Fuck it felt nice. Your tummy still hurt.

“Owwwww” You moan.

He slowed. “You okay?”

“No I’m dying!”

He sighs. “You’re going to the gyno tomorrow, right?”

“UUUGGHHHH” you kick your feet. “Yes just fuck me!!”

You’re on the verge of cumming, Santi’s cock hitting nice and deep just the way you liked it when-

“OOOWW!!!!” You shout, clamping down hard as you had a butthole cramp “OW OW OW OW OW!!!!”

Santi mumbles some swear words, pulling out of you “Shit, baby are you okay?” His hands are warm on you, desperately looking if he hurt you.

“Yeah…” You mumble, rolling over onto your back. “I got a butthole cramp… Maybe this isn’t working.”

“Yeah, maybe not. I can still do it with these bad boys though!” Santi wiggles his blood covered fingers with a dopey grin on his face.

You laugh, sitting up to kiss him when you notice. His dick gone soft and although red, was leaking white. “Santi.” You give him a pointed look. “Did me yelling in pain make you cum inside me?”

His eyes are wide with panic. “NO! No that’s not it! You just-” He stopped himself, looking nervous so you give him a break and chuckle.

“I just what, baby?”

He groans loudly, but mutters when he speaks. “Just so tight.”

You tackle him, tickling Santi’s body, not caring that both of you are bloody. “You’re a 40 year old man, your pull out game is ASS!” You’re both laughing, rolling around on the bed and forgetting about your pain for a moment.

“I”LL BUY PLAN B!” Santiago picks you up, tossing you on the mattress and climbs on top as you bounce.

“YOU SHOULD’VE BOUGHT PLAN CONDOMS! YOU’RE GONNA NEED TO BUY PLAN BABY CARRIER IF YOU DON’T STOP!” You playfully bite his arm.

“OW!” He pinned you down. “Oh nooooo, breeding my beautiful girlfriend, whatever will I do!”

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

thank you guys!!!! i really hope you take part in the write a thon, spread our love for triple frontier!!!! santi is my most special guy!

i did a poll today with what blorbo you associate me with and santi has ben the winner so far

anyway, this is just a starter for the write a thon bc i at LEAST want my santi x will fic an them something different, i really wanna branch out with something.... different. im not sure with what yet! also: part 2 of puzzle pieces with benny

lots coming in addition to my other works and a commsission.

anyway, love yall!

make sure to follow @romana-updates for more!

@fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @k-ra @eyelessfaces @ivystoryweaver @steven-grants-world @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul @miraclesabound @mikaelak @runa-falls @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @scarletthefierce @faretheeoscar @del-ightfulling @boysddontcry @mrsoharaxx @pedge-page @vickie5446 @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

#triple frontier #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #fem reader #santiago garcia x fem!reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier anniversary #triple frontier write-a-thon #santiago garcia x reader smut #smut #santiago garcia smut #santi garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader

131 notes · View notes

secretshinigami · 1 year

Text

Artist: @stafsar

For: @chaotic-angsty-teen

Prompt: Light with wings

Artist's notes: amazing big brain prompt, thank you for giving me the excuse to draw this. Also two versions because ;P

#fanart #fanfiction #death note #submission #light yagami #stafsar #chaotic-angsty-teen #naomi and halle's ambitious anniversary

859 notes · View notes

dreaming-in-seams · 5 months

Text

HAPPY 13TH BIRTHDAY TANGLED!!!

Several days late, but here’s a piece to celebrate. Originally it was supposed to be for New Dream Appreciation Week, but I missed that…and then I wanted to finished a second chapter for my fic Darkest Places, Brightest Lights, but that hit a block lol. So here, happy birthday to my favorite film!

Used the pose from Romantic Encounter (1864) by Mihály Von Zichy (found it thanks to the lovely blogger linked!)

#tangled #new dream #eugene fitzherbert #rapunzel #tangled au #tangled fanfiction #tangled fanart #my art #tangled anniversary

137 notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 10 months

Text

Test Play

Title: Test Play Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Game Designer!Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Sequel to Perfectionists. All hands on deck around the clock as SHIELD has to put in some extra work in order to get things ready for game approval before the beta test can be launched soon at PAX East, especially if they want to beat out HYDRA's new pending release. What will that mean for the new development between Bucky and SHIELD's top tier tester when there doesn't seem to be time for sleep, let alone... whatever this is?

Content/Concept Warnings: gamer AU; strong language; SMUT: vaginal fingering, cock warming; beefy Bucky who is soft but a menace

Notes: THE FIRST OF MY PROMISED ANNIVERSARY SLEEPOVER FICS! Also crossing off:

Catching up on @buckybarnesevents WEEK FOUR of Hot Bucky Summer: Free Week: suggested cock warming

Seventh square of @buckybarnesbingo C3: FREE SPACE - seemed fitting to couple it with HBS Free Week

When I wrote Perfectionists, I really didn't think I had more story to tell or that these two would get as much love as they did...so this is something I'm very excited to share for part of my Anniversary Sleepover event!

A/N: AND THANKS to @rookthorne who helped me with a bit of gamer lingo and encouraging these two and literally @vonalyn’s expertise in knowledge of the gaming industry! Chi especially not only steered me in the right direction, but you were so generous and indulgent of my inquiries!

story divider by @firefly-graphics, reblog graphic by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Steve looked over from his desk to see Bucky’s fingers tapping anxiously across the way on the corner of his desk, chin propped on his other hand, staring – glaring, really – at the clock on the wall. As the leads on the new Avengers story release for SHIELD, he and Bucky were on hold until the feedback from the latest round of testing hit their inboxes.

“You good?” Steve asked. None of them were great right now, but Steve felt keenly the need to make sure as captain of this crew that everyone was at least good.

The glower turned to him. “I’m fine, just… hate waiting.”

The icy blue stare didn’t faze Steve – he knew it wasn’t for him. “Maybe there are some preliminary notes we could get a jump on. Do you want me to go check on her progr–?“

“No, I’ll go,” Bucky cut him off and stood abruptly in the same second. He was out of the engineering and design lab before Steve could even respond.

Steve frowned.

Nat and Sam had gone down to consult with the marketing department, but Joaquin was still in the lab with him. “You know he hates these spots where there’s nothing to do until there’s something to do even more than you, Cap,” he quipped.

Steve sighed. “I know. But he seems even more worked up than usual, he’s never liked having to talk with the testers before now, but I guess desperate times…”

Steve went back to refreshing his inbox because there definitely were more things he needed to communicate back to the other teams, even if the other part of his work was on hold, so he missed the slight smirk on Joaquin’s face.

Bucky was on a direct path, not to be deterred by anyone if they were trying to get his attention in any way. As he came around a corner, he nearly collided with T’Challah, lead writer on the story design team.

“Barnes! My apologies!”

“Oh, no!” Bucky’s face turned a bright red. Anyone else and Bucky with his broad chest and hulking frame would’ve probably bowled them over. “That was all me.”

Though they’d worked together from time to time over the last year, Bucky still didn’t know him very well, but T’Challah was one of the few others at SHIELD Bucky enjoyed working with outside of his own team and he had a fair bit of respect from the man.

“On your way to the test room?” T’Challah guessed.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “Guilty.”

T’Challah smiled. “I just came from there. From our conversation, I expect we’re closer than we hoped on getting this mode online with the rest of the release. She’s not done yet, but I think you’ll like what she has to say.”

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard someone closing the door to the test room. “I can not go any faster, I promise.”

You did a double-take and paused the game when you saw the giant gaming engineer who had ruined you a week earlier crossing the room. “Hi,” you breathed and returned the soft smile you saw on his face. You were glad it was dim in the room so he couldn’t see every detail of your expression, feeling flushed at the sight of him, and biting the slight edge of your bottom lip.

“Hi,” he returned warmly. There was a slight twinkle in his eye as his gaze swept over you. “What is this?” he gestured up and down as he planted himself down next to you, body angled to you and not the gaming screen.

You were cocooned with only hands sticking out from one blanket draped over your head and your shoulders and another wrapped around your legs. “It is Women’s Winter! I’m trying not to freeze in the extremes of corporate American summer air conditioning temperatures!”

Bucky laughed. He laughed around the team, but rarely around anyone else. And this? With you? This was still so new, but it was nice.

“Here, I’ll help warm you up.” Bucky settled in on the couch directly next to you. His hulking frame made the couch dip slightly beneath him, and that brought your cocooned self partially into his lap. He wrapped one beefy arm around your back and the other rested over your legs.

“Hi,” you said again, a whisper this time.

“Hi.” The dimness of the room did not prevent you from seeing the heat that was building in his gaze.

That look made you want to squirm in the best way – to be writhing under him. He was so big you had to tilt up your head to look into each other’s eyes, but that was no problem. It meant a natural invitation for Bucky to lean down and capture your lips in a kiss.

Which he did.

The sweet greeting of the kiss, not having seen each other for a few days, melted away quickly into more. His tongue teased at the seam of your lips, and you opened your mouth to him eagerly. It was hungry and demanding, and he pulled a moan from your throat.

And for some reason your brain switched back on, and you laughed breathlessly and pulled away.

“Buck, no.”

“Buck, yes.”

He circled his arms around you completely now and burrowed his head into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the tender flesh there, a little nipping, kissing, and licking that had you moaning again.

The thud as the controller hit the floor reminded you again that you were supposed to be finishing the test play, not letting Bucky play with your body.

You jumped out of his arms and retrieved the controller.

“Buck, anyone could come in and see us! We’re lucky no one caught us the first time.”

The grin does not leave his devastatingly handsome face. “I specifically locked the door when I came in this time.”

You laughed but shook your head. “That was awfully presumptuous!”

His expression softened, and he reached for your hand. You let him pull you closer as he spoke. “It might have been presumptuous, but it wasn’t my only intention. I’ve been eager to see you, spend time with you. One night of fun last week and lunch the next day before the HYDRA shitstorm… that’s not all I wanted with you.”

He held your hand up and kissed your palm before pulling you even closer. You melted into him as he circled his arms around your waist, your blankets having pooled at your feet. One of your hands threaded into his hair, the other wrapped gently around his neck. He turned his head, resting his cheek against your front, and you felt and heard him take in a deep breath and then exhale slowly. You felt that energy mirror inside of you as well.

You didn’t think he had only used you for one hot night of pleasure – the hours spent wrapped up in each other on the couch after fucking, and then waking up in your own bed the next morning to a text already waiting asking if you wanted to get lunch had said a lot – but it had not been the week to jump into … whatever this was going to be. Ten days ago Barnes had only been the guy you had harbored a crush on and thought didn’t like you one bit since you had been professionally clashing for months as game engineer and game tester.

Literally while you had been at lunch, teasing him about his questionable choice of footwear, Bucky had received a flurry of Slack messages and then a call from Steve. They had intel on review notes from the beta release HYDRA had submitted to one of the first party platforms and Fury had decided to bring the Deep Shadow Conditions mode back into the release SHIELD was going to submit to the first party platforms for approval at the end of next week.

Meaning Bucky and the rest of his team had only by necessity taken any kind of breaks to sleep and refuel for the last seventy-two hours, you’d exchanged all of five texts, and had only seen him from across the main floor once in all that time.

So, this was nice.

Your Apple Watch buzzed at your wrist, and you groaned and pushed away from Bucky, hastily moving around to stand behind the couch.

“I’ve got to finish this test play!”

And you hit resume on the game, leaned forward, and planted your elbows on the back of the couch, getting back into the zone.

Bucky heaved himself over the back of the couch and closed in on you, caging you in on either side with his massive biceps, his big solid chest at your back.

“Bucky!” you tried to take a stern tone, but it was hard when you were relishing the measured weight of him against you.

“I’m not stopping you,” he murmured against the back of your neck.

“Bucky! Really!”

He shifted slightly and then you could feel the smirk of his lips on the side of your neck. He planted one hot kiss there, then said, “If you’re so damn good at what you do, keep playing.”

“Are you issuing me a challenge?”

“Just a chance to prove what a consummate professional you are.”

“Challenge accepted. You are an incorrigible menace,” you laughed.

“Actually, I’m cold.”

“You were judging me and my blankets not even five minutes ago,” you said, focused on the action on the screen.

While he remained hunched over your back, you felt him moving again, and you heard but didn’t register the sound of his belt unbuckling.

“Blankets? No,” he murmured in your ear, “I need you to warm me up.”

“Oh,” you moaned when his broad hand cupped your pussy.

“Think you can do that for me?”

He stroked firmly.

“Part of the testing is to see if we’ve got a game that captures the player’s attention, right? I’m just helping you test this aspect, see if a player can become easily distracted, lose interest – that’s the last thing we want.”

Slowly but purposefully Bucky undid your pants and you fought to keep your breathing even and your eyes open and where they were supposed to be as he pulled them down with your underwear. Then he nudged his right foot on the inside of yours to push your legs further apart while two of his fingers moved over your soft, slickening folds. Then he sunk his cock into you, and you both exhaled at the feel of him inside of you.

“How’s that?”

You let out a slight whimper.

“That good, huh? You’re never at a loss for words with that talented tongue.”

You elbowed him gently. “You really wanna play, Barnes? You tease that you just need some cock warming? You get me to break, and then you can fuck me however you like.”

“Oh, I can be patient. I’ll get you to beg for me to fuck you. We’ll see who gets desperate first.”

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Link to the List of Sleepover Games

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #gamer au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #aspen's anniversary sleepover #aspen wrote something #hotbuckysummer2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #omg reblogged thank you #kink: cock warming

307 notes · View notes