#i think the way they see him is something like ''the mother tree chose him to fight them specifically because his skills are so similar''

[plantb0t]

Guild wars 2 is so stressful how dare you keep asking me to make decisions in this video game I can't handle this responsibility

#as far as this decision goes I think I'll have to choose the option someone else brought up on my other post hsfzhfhfs #I'm trying to make these decisions in character . the issue is I'm not entirely sure what amarbel's character is yet #main thing about his character to me so far: he was basically just born #doesn't know a lot about the world yet but has already fully accepted his wyld hunt. he doesn't know anything else #as far as these decisions I think he leans more towards minimizing risk. he's a small and slight man. and a caster #not incredibly physically imposing. he relies more on his charm #though he is strong in necromancy magic #that's been an interesting thing to consider story-wise. the sylvari deal with a lot of undead enemies #i think the way they see him is something like ''the mother tree chose him to fight them specifically because his skills are so similar'' #like amarbel was born to fight fire with fire. or something. even so i feel like it unnerves some of the sylvari that he's a necromancer #gw2 #.txt

[zionworkzs]

Okay, but I need to talk about Good Omens and The Sound of Music.

First of all, I’m genuinely obsessed with it being explicitly canon that The Sound of Music exists in the GO universe and is, for some reason, God’s favorite movie. Neil says here that Heaven misses the point of the movie/musical, but I find it incredibly fascinating that Aziraphale outwardly despises it. 

Brief summary of The Sound of Music incoming as well as some really interesting parallels:

So we've got Julie Andrews playing Maria, who is studying to become a nun in an abbey in Salzburg. Problem is, she isn't the best nun, and is often late to chapel and just isn't the shining beacon of holiness that the rest of the nuns expect her to be.

In response to this, the Reverend Mother of the abbey decides to send Maria to live with sexy widower Georg von Trapp, a navy captain who desperately needs help with his seven children. The Captain is a bit of a hard-ass since the death of his wife, and has been treating his kids like little soldiers as well as banning music from the house.

The 7 kids are rambunctious and make things difficult for Maria at first. But one night, a thunderstorm scares them, and they run to Maria for comfort. The kids realize that Maria is really fun, and then later, when their dad is off to Vienna, the kids and Maria end up running around Salzburg singing, dancing, climbing trees, and having a blast.

When the Captain comes home and hears about this, he sends Maria away. But then he overhears the children singing a song Maria taught them and he gets all emo and remembers how much music meant to him and his late wife. He asks Maria to stay after hearing the song, telling her she's brought joy back to their house.

And oops, Maria and the Captain are falling for each other, but the Captain is sort of kind of dating this blonde bombshell.

There's a big fuck-off party, and the Captain and Maria dance together.

But, oh, no, Blondie saw them and can clearly tell they're in love. She tells Maria what she's seen and Maria is freaking out cause she's just realized she's in love.

Mentally, my girl Maria is going through a lot. She thinks she’s disappointed God by falling in love when she was supposed to be doing a job. She feels scared by the depth of her feelings and because of all these emotions, she runs away. Back to the Abbey. Back to presumed safety.

Mother Superior figures out what happened real quick and tells Maria that she isn’t wrong for falling in love. She sends her back to the Von Trapps, and it's such a great scene. If you wanna watch, I included a link below.

Maria goes back, and the kids are elated and she and the Captain confess their feelings (and oh my god, don't even get me started on the lyrics to the song they sing to each other while confessing, Something Good).

(I’m unwell.)

So that's the Sound of Music. There's a subplot going on with WW2 and the Captain being pressured to join the Nazi regime (which he is very against). King, we love him.

I pointed out some obvious parallels, but I'd also like to pull some random thoughts together here:

Mother Superior (God) is the one that sends Maria (Aziraphale) to help the Von Trapps (humans) in the first place.

Maria (Aziraphale) extends grace and patience with the children (humans) and refuses to give up on them, even going so far as to disobey their father by letting them fuck around and be kids (going against God's wishes and giving humans the flaming sword).

Mother Superior (God) also sends Maria (Aziraphale) back to the Von Trapps after realizing that Maria (Aziraphale) is in love with the Captain (Crowley).

Here's to hoping we see God telling Azi that loving a demon is chill and he should go back to earth in S3.

Overall, it's incredibly amusing to me that Aziraphale, our Aziraphale, doesn't like The Sound of Music, with the main plot being about a woman who choses love over religious obligations and a man who rejects an authoritarian regime so that he might make his own way in the world.

Maybe Aziraphale recognizes the parallels and is in denial. Or maybe he just prefers Sondheim...

#can you tell i watched the sound of music too much as a child #fuckin love this movie #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season 3 #good omens meta #good omens season 2 #the sound of music #Youtube

[shreddedleopard]

I genuinely think William’s real name is actually still William, just with a different surname.

Hear me out.

#1 — irony.

Remember the omake where Bonde asks him and he’s got his ☺️ face ‘that’s a secret, heh heh heh.’

Lol William is the biggest mischievous jokester going. This would be his exact reaction if people were asking like 👀 omg what is it?? And all along he’s like, lol will.i.am guys, chill. No-one cares about your first name, it’s your surname which means anything around here. You’ve all been barking up the wrong tree. Which brings me on to my second point ~

#2 — symbolism.

I cannot scream enough about how bloody genius it would be for William’s name to be, in fact, just William, but with a more common surname like ‘Smith.’ For the purposes of this discussion, let’s call him William Smith. As an orphan, he gets adopted into the family Moriarty, where there is in fact another William: Master William James Moriarty. Immediately, you have two boys of similar ages with the exact same first names, highlighting how, in fact, they should be equal if we’re looking at their basic information and identifiers. But what is it which sets them apart, and is the very message and theme running through the heart of Yuumori? Class inequality. And what dictated your social class at the time, so very unfairly? Your family lineage.

The name of Moriarty is what gives Albert’s little brother his superior, privileged position in life, over William ‘Smith.’ And yet, they are both young boys, both Williams, both should have the same sort of start in life in the equal world our William wishes to create. But they do not; the moment they are given their surnames — the moment those are penned on the paper of their birth records following ‘William’, the chasm that divides these boys is immense and unfair.

#3 — interesting coincidences, hints and clues in the text.

• William loves Shakespeare — that’s part of his identity in the same way being a mathematician is. He quotes Shakespeare all the time, he grew up in a library and has all of the plays memorised. Shakespeare’s first name was also William. Additionally, Shakespeare’s birthday is believed to be April 23rd. William’s birthday is listed as April 1st — April Fool’s Day, and it has been confirmed that this is a fake birthday, so we don’t know his real one currently. (But my guess is it’s still in April).

• The Moriarty’s never call William by his name, pre-fire, but the children at his orphanage do, and they call him Will.

At the Moriarty house, he is on the receiving end of more hate than Louis; they seem to despise him to the nth degree. I wonder if this might be because he shares a name with their precious William, and this irks them. They refuse to call him by his name because that doesn’t belong to him, filth from the streets, it belongs to their beloved son who can do no wrong.

I can see a mother like Lady Moriarty refusing to call another boy by the name she gifted her son, especially when William reminds her that there is something she had in common with his own mother — someone who she would view as completely beneath her: they chose the same name. What a disgrace, to be associated or viewed as having a similar mind to a woman of such low standing!?

We also see William only ever call William Moriarty with the title ‘master’ in front, as though he also feels the need to make the distinction. This could just be because he’s trying to be polite, though. I could honestly dissect the entire first chapter panel by panel and highlight how William being William is such a simple but perfect concept which highlights this noble family’s insecurities, discrimination and narrow mindedness. William Moriarty feels the need to constantly reaffirm his own identity in the presence of our William.

Because … if they share full names now, with the adoption … the lines are blurring. What makes one William Moriarty superior to the other? A worrying thought indeed for this boy. (Answer: there is no difference, they’re both equally deserving of opportunities in life.)

It all makes such perfect sense and explains away the awkwardness of the writer having to avoid use of William’s name simply because ‘it needs to stay hidden to create the mystery.’ This gives the characters themselves reason within the text to avoid using it, which makes everything so much more authentic and real. It makes sense because it does, not because it has to for the plot.

• William promised not to steal anything. Twice, we see him reassuring and then reaffirming that he wouldn’t steal anything, and both times are in the presence of William Moriarty.

If we want to take this statement in light of names, and toy with that lovely device foreshadowing, William having always shared the same first name would in fact mean that statement holds true — he did not steal William’s name; it was always his own to begin with, and Moriarty was a name given to him as part of his adoption, the same as it was given to Louis. He really didn’t steal anything, despite the fact that he was probably made to feel guilty or worthless every day because of the name he shared with William Moriarty.

This also means that William probably never actively deceived any of the townspeople, either; it really was just a case of mistaken identity which he manipulated for his own cause.

The townspeople made the mistake, rather than William outright lying. William is, by trade, more of a master manipulator who turns situations to his advantage with his quick thinking, rather than straight up lying or deceiving people (see: The Merchant of London.)

• Sherlock saw his birth name but never mentions it. And still chooses to call him Liam. Yes, we might’ve had a conversation happen off screen. Yes, Sherlock might choose to do that because that name is sentimental and William has asked not to be called his true name for reasons unknown. But it would fit so beautifully if William really is his name, and Sherlock’s realisation that day when he read the birth records was that oh, so this — William ‘Smith’ — is Liam’s real name. Naturally, he would continue to call him Liam with no discussion needed, because it’s a shortened version of William.

• We have lots of characters who share the name William, but with different variations on the shortened version; another symbol of how people can be equal in some senses but also their identity can be individual to them also. William H Bonney is Billy the Kid, the mathematics genius William and Sherlock stumble upon in Durham is called Bill Hunt.

#4 — practicality and marketing.

People become attached to characters and their names, and there comes a certain point in a work where it’s very difficult to alter a character’s first name and still retain a fan base’s sense of identity for that character. Calling William say, Robert, from now on, or revealing that as his true name while we continue to see him referred to as William is all sorts of confusing, emotionally. Perhaps it’s just me. But the idea that I’ve been calling William the wrong name all along feels off and sad, whereas the knowledge that he’s at least been able to keep that part of himself consistent, when everything else has had to be an act, is actually really comforting and empowering.

I’d love to write another thought dump on why William being William all along is also, so very emotionally delicious when you explore the implications in the story; it’s heartbreaking and makes him an even more sympathetic character who I just wanna hug, so perhaps I’ll come back to this! Because re-reading those earlier chapters with this in mind really hurts so good.

He stole nothing; he was always the true William, that at least is one thing that always belonged to him — it was only society and us that dictated there was one William worth knowing more — was more interesting and held more narrative power — than the other.

This is still William’s story.

#william james moriarty #william moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #yuumori #William Moriarty analysis #meta #Yuumori analysis #Moriarty the patriot analysis #meta analysis

[galaxies-of-fandoms]

I have something to say about the newest PJO episode and how Percy interacted with Medusa, as well as the themes in the episode as a whole.

What we just witnessed was both indicative of what will happen in the end of the series as well as a shift in the paradigm.

Throughout these first few episodes, they’re HEAVILY sowing the seeds of conflict and discourse over the gods’ treatment of their halfblood children. Percy himself is rejecting his father at every turn, claiming to be Sally Jackson’s son (good for him, we stan) and even choosing the guidance of his mother over the guidance of the gods’ when it came to how he regarded Medusa. You can see how he’s being nudged towards the path of Kronos by Luke and by Medusa, and at this point you might already be thinking that they have a point when it comes to defying the gods. After all, what good were they? If even the most powerful god could only transform his daughter into a tree in order to prevent her death, how useful were they really? (Yes I know Thalia gets resurrected by the Golden Fleece, but Zeus nor anyone else demanded a quest for the Golden Fleece until the tree was dying and the camp’s borders were threatened) In the end, Zeus chose the most politically correct way to save Thalia over the most morally correct option. Give her a “hErO’S deATh” so that a potential quest leader is out of the picture while still looking like the good guy 🙄

But back to how Percy treated Medusa. He chose to trust her because of his mother. He constantly defied the will of his more experienced and intelligent quest mate because he trusted his mother, and I think he sensed Medusa’s kindred spirit with his mother in her. In certain ways, they are alike. Both loved and abandoned by the same man, both being left with consequences neither expected could arise out of loving another.

I don’t think Percy wanted to kill her. Just like how he won’t want to kill Luke, in the end. Percy will fight tooth and nail to protect those he cares about, but that also means playing the long game. In the books, this isn’t some long thought out plan of his, he’s just kinda going for the ride in order to try and prevent as many human lives lost as he can. He makes himself invaluable to the gods and protects Olympus from a major threat in order to protect his people, his family, which is also why he uses this as leverage to change the status quo. The status quo put both Luke and many more from CHB into the hands of Kronos. To Percy, Medusa was not a monster but a threat to eliminate. To Percy, Luke will become a threat to eliminate (until the last second). To Percy, the gods’ treatment of their children will be a threat to eliminate. And we just saw a glimpse of what Percy will do to threats he feels he needs to eliminate.

#rambling #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #spoilers #ranting about Percy Jackson #percy jackson #Medusa #sally jackson #luke castellan #annabeth chase #I genuinely love this new show and what it’s doing to the story so far

[teyamsatan]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces. 

Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.

Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)

A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged <;3

"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"

“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

“Lo’ak… be serious.”

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes. 

You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words. 

“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”

His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently. 

“But it is you. It has to be you.” 

“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.” 

You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self. 

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.” 

Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side. 

Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his. 

His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened. 

“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.

“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.” 

“What’s Cornelia Street?”

“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.” 

A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed. 

You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right. 

“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”

Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.

“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice. 

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.” 

Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it. 

“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”

Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win. 

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”

“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.” 

Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish. 

“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”

He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you. 

“What did you just say?” 

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.” 

“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.” 

Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was. 

He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew. 

“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?” 

“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.” 

“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response. 

You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway. 

You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go. 

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse. 

“You should leave, Neteyam.”

You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing. 

“No.” 

You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?” 

He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you. 

“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you. 

You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission. 

He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to. 

He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long. 

“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.” 

Fuck. 

Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply. 

“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.” 

You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention. 

“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.” 

Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died. 

His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.

“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”

You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools. 

“We need to talk, properly talk.” 

You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away. 

You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.

There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first. 

“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise. 

You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye. 

Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you. 

“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.” 

Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly. 

Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself. 

“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake. 

“How long?” Neteyam asked. 

“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared. 

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep. 

“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”

You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond. 

The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers. 

You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that. 

“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm. 

“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look. 

You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue. 

When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness. 

Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.

You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours. 

You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day. 

Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in. 

“I think you should be taking a break from this.”

“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”

“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.” 

You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went. 

“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”

You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod. 

It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime. 

You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life. 

“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.

Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?

Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently. 

Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did. 

“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”

You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi. 

You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”

Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own. 

“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”

“Did you tell her yet?” 

“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”

Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.

“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.” 

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.” 

Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”

“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.” 

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”

“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”

Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.” 

You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped. 

“He told you.”

“Yeah…” 

“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”

“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.” 

“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”

You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.

You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric. 

Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair. 

“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.” 

You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.

“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.” 

You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed. 

The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far. 

It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle. 

You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims. 

As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed. 

He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry. 

“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage. 

Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest. 

“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest. 

As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.

“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face. 

You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins. 

“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.” 

You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute. 

“Ok then, let’s dance.” 

Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.

He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done. 

You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support. 

Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs. 

He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.

“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!” 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying. 

You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight. 

These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it. 

“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”

The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids. 

As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm. 

“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.” 

He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.

“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”

You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further. 

“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”

He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained. 

“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it. 

“Yes, please.” 

You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore. 

“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there. 

“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled. 

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.” 

It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @k----a27s

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[ficthots]

Polar Opposites

A/N: Angsty with a happy ending (lil bit of asshole Josh). You're welcome 😌. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Word Count: 11.9k+

There comes a certain bliss that accompanies silence. Allowing one to slow down and take notice of the things around them in a way that they would not be able to do if there was a constant rumble of noise. Silence means being able to listen to the way the wind whistles as it cascades through the trees, rustling the leaves and creating its own music for the world to hear. It means being intune with your surroundings, being able to pay attention to the slightest shift of the room. Silence is a friend.

It has been your friend for a majority of your life, a welcome acquaintance that shields you every day. Growing up mainly alone meant basking in the quiet that would drape across a room. It had been just you and your mother your entire life and when you were deemed old enough to be alone, you were. 

She worked as a doctor, leaving you for a majority of the day. She would be gone when you were up in the morning to get ready for school and home at seven thirty each night for dinner before starting it all over again. You admired her and everything she had done for you, ensuring that you would lead a comfortable life. 

A comfortable life for you means spending time by yourself. It wasn’t sad in your eyes, actually the complete opposite. It was what you knew and loved. Being able to wind down after a long day of classes, reading silently, writing in peace, and having time with your thoughts. 

While you were indeed shy, it wasn’t a large hindrance to you. You knew how to turn on the social battery, but you did admit, it would drain fast. You chose to remain quiet as others spoke to you, carefully deciding how to respond to your chat companion before just blurting out anything that came to mind.

That didn’t change as you went to college. In fact, it allowed you to take stride in that behavior. You had one friend that you would see and have lunch with every week, but most of the free time you had you reserved for yourself. 

Until he came into your life. 

You were sitting in a large lecture hall for one of the regular, mandatory, core classes. It meant there were hundreds of people attending each session. You sat dead center of the hall, eyes down on your laptop as you began formatting your notes when someone sat loudly next to you. 

Paying them no mind, you continued, pulling the syllabus up to have on your screen to follow along as your professor was scheduled to read it this morning. 

“Notes already? Isn’t it day one?” You gave a soft smile to the boy next to you. You felt your mouth go dry at how purely handsome he was. His dark brown eyes gleamed playfully at you as you turned your attention back to your screen.

“I just like to be prepared is all,” he leaned towards you, arm brushing yours as he did. “Ah, I see. Better to be over prepared than under, right? I’m Josh,” he stuck his large hand out towards yours. You gingerly placed your hand in his as he enclosed his fingers around your own. 

You offered your name back watching as his smile grew. Jeeze, his teeth were basically perfect. “What’re you in for?” Your brow furrowed at his question as he laughed, making your heart skip a beat at the melodic sound. “I mean what’s your major? I’m here for film. Love it, always have, figured I should do something with it, you know?” 

You smiled at him, feeling it slowly grow as he kept talking. “Mine is not as interesting. I’m an English major,” his smile remained as he turned to face you in his lecture seat. “I love writing. I thought about being a journalist for a long time. That’s another reason why I want to do film, I can write.” Your pulse was quickening as he spoke, eyes never leaving you as he deemed a real interest in you. 

“I do, too, but that’s not what I want to do. I mean, not mainly. I’d love to be an author some day, but I want to be a librarian,” his eyes narrowed slightly at you, head tilting as he took you in, tongue poking out between his pearly white teeth. “I can totally see that. You would be a perfect librarian,” your cheeks were heating at his words, never having someone scrutinize you so obviously before. 

The professor entered the room, letting a hush fall over everyone as he started speaking about the course. Your eyes widened as Josh leaned over towards you, whispering over the professor. “You want to get lunch this week? I want to hear you talk about being a librarian some more,” you shushed him as he started typing on his own laptop.

“Look at that, you already have the shushing down pat,” you bit back a laugh at his words, eyeing him from the corner of your vision, seeing him beaming. “So, yes to lunch?” You grew anxious wondering if anyone else in the hall could hear him talking to you. You had never spoken over a teacher before and your paranoia was washing over you. 

“If I say yes, will you please be quiet so I can hear the professor?” he winked at you, making the motion of zipping his lips and throwing the key away. 

As the lecture came to an end, you quickly placed your belongings into your bag and tried to hurry out of the room before your seat companion could catch up, but to no avail. “Ah, can’t get rid of me that easily!” His voice carried through the air, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You turned to face him and saw that large grin take over his features, gorgeous dimples on display. “Lunch this week, I’m serious. I’ll find you later this week for it,” he shot you a wink as he started walking in the other direction. 

His chances of remembering the plans were slim, you convinced yourself and that’s why when you saw him leaning against the stairs railing of one of the buildings your lecture was in, shock took you over. 

Josh had his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking around the crowds trying to find you. A large smile took over his face as you came into his view. You couldn’t believe he remembered.

He didn’t even say hello as you cautiously approached him. “What are you feeling today for food? I’m thinking tacos. There’s a really good place downtown if you’re down,” you walked next to him and nodded at his words. 

“Sure,” he took your backpack off your shoulder, slinging it over his own, but as you went to take it back, he stopped you. “Pretty girls don’t carry their own bags. How was class? Learn anything good?” you felt like you were going to throw up right then at him calling you pretty. 

You two sat on a patio table, laughing as Josh told you stories about his brothers. “I’m dead serious! I wake up and see him peeing in the fireplace, completely shit faced, butt naked from the waist down, leaning against the wall,” you were trying to catch your breath as he shared. 

As you both calmed down, catching your breath, he took a chip from your plate. “Alright, what stories do you have? Any crazy siblings?” You shook your head, offering a soft smile. “Nope,” he narrowed his eyes, resting his chin on the back of his hands. 

“Cousins?” You shook your head. “Parents?” You nodded and held up a finger. “One, my mom, but I don’t have any crazy stories about her,” you shrugged as you sipped your drink. “Grandparents? Aunts? Uncles?” You giggled as he carried on, growing more shocked as he went through the list. 

“It was just me a lot. My mom’s a doctor so she was gone most of the time. Not a lot to share,” you bit into a chip as you finished, but instead of Josh making you feel bad about spending most of your childhood alone like most people did, he smirked at you. 

“That’s why you’re so quiet. It’s not a bad thing, I don’t think. I wish I would’ve been alone more growing up. Especially with having a twin, it was a pain in the ass most days. But if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have our music,” you eyed him, letting your hands rest against the flat surface of the table.

“You do music?” It was like opening Pandora’s box. He lit up, talking for over an hour and a half about the music they made and how passionate they all were. It was thrilling seeing how much he loved it and you couldn’t help but smile at him as he hardly took any breaks as he spoke. 

His voice changed between tones and you were completely enamored with it. It made you want to hear him sing since he claimed he was the lead singer of the band, but for now you could suffice with listening to him talk. You didn’t think you could ever bore of him. 

He finally stopped himself, cheeks glowing a bright red as he looked back at you. “I’ve been talking for almost two hours. You have to stop me or I could talk forever! Seriously,” he laughed as he rubbed his face, but you giggled at him.

“I don’t mind. You have a nice voice,” the complement left your mouth before you could think of it and your eyes widened as you stammered after. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that,” he laughed, grabbing your guy's trash as he stood.

“Don’t apologize! That’s practically the best compliment you can give someone who loves the sound of their own voice,” he winked at you as you stood, walking out of the restaurant with him. He looked around at the downtown scene and nudged you. 

“You need to get back right away? You want to walk around for a bit?” He was nervous. Listening to him for as long as you did had let you learn his tonal habits quite quickly. His current tone gave him away. You only nodded, letting him take your hand in his as you two strolled the streets, listening to him tell you random thoughts that popped into his head, unable to keep them in, needing to be shared with someone. 

Josh slowly picked away at your shell after that. You began opening up for him a little bit at a time. Each time he discovered something new about you it was like he had won the lottery. His eyes would light up, his dimples would show, and he would blush. 

It wasn’t too long before you were together more often than not. He would meet you outside of your classes, taking you on a walk or for lunch, planning dates he knew you would enjoy. He felt awful after he took you on a mini golf date and you left with a pounding headache from the screaming kids that littered the area. No matter how much you assured him it was fine, he refused to believe it was. 

He had surprised you with a picnic one late afternoon and you sat in between his legs, leaning back against his chest, watching the sun dip below the horizon. You both sat in silence, your eyes shut, savoring the reprieve. 

His fingers lightly traced up and down your arm, letting you bask in the quiet evening. A small smile graced your face as you heard a squirrel run through the tree you sat underneath. The grass had a soft wave going through it with every light breeze that would float through the air. 

You were startled out of your thoughts when Josh whispered into your ear. “Mouse?” He laughed as you jumped, placing both of his palms flat on your arms, trying to still you. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I wanted to ask you something,” you rested back against him, willing your heart rate to go back to normal as he continued rubbing his hands over your arms.

You hummed, the sound almost falling on deaf ears, but he heard. He always did. “Would you want to come home with me this weekend? I want you to meet my family. My moms dying to meet you,” he chuckled at the end. 

He was biting his lip, you could hear it in the way he spoke. He was anxious about asking you, but the slight tilt in his tone meant he was excited about you meeting the people he loved most in the world.

You turned your head to peer up at him, seeing his hopeful eyes look over your face in awe. The sun had you gleaming in the golden hour and he had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. His heart leapt into his throat as he stared at you. 

“Course I will. I’d love to meet everyone,” his smile grew as he bent his head down to meet you, lips gently pushing against your own. You hoped that your own nerves weren’t displaying across your face, fear pummeling you at the thought of meeting his family. His people. 

What if they didn’t like you? You had been told that your quietness had been taken wrong in the past, coming off as more standoffish than anything. That wasn’t who you were, but they didn’t know that. You were spiraling, feeling the knot grow in your stomach. 

Josh drove you both up to his childhood home a few days later. You were breathing quickly and shallowly, fears overtaking you. Josh had been talking almost the entire drive, giving you the rundown on everyone you were supposed to be meeting. There were going to be so many people there. 

Your hands had a slight tremble to them that Josh noticed as he looked over at you in the passenger seat. You had pulled up to the house and their driveway was packed with cars, throwing a barbecue for the event of meeting you. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he took your hands in his and saw you gnawing at your lip, unable to tear your eyes away from the house. “What’s going on?” You blew out a shaky breath, knee starting to bounce. “What if they don’t like me? I don’t want them to think I’m rude,” he shook his head, rubbing your hands in his, smiling at you. 

“First, they’re gonna love you, I know it. Second, they aren’t going to think you’re rude, mouse. I told them that you’re quiet, so they know that, okay?” You nodded at his words, peeling your eyes away and meeting his own as his fingers pinched your chin. “Third, I am right here and will be by your side all night. If you need to take a break, just let me know and we’ll go to my room,” you gave him a shaky smile as he leaned over the center console, connecting your lips in a reassuring kiss. 

“Okay?” You nodded at him, getting out of the car, meeting him at the front of it, letting him take your hand in his. His fingers laced with yours tightly, your other hand toying with the hem of your dress. Before you walked into the backyard where the mess of voices, music, and food cooking was wafting from, he stopped you and gave you a bright smile.

“Deep breath,” you mimicked him as he winked at you. “I love you,” your face warmed at his words. “I love you, too,” he led you both into the backyard and his brother's eyes fell on you two first.

“They’re here!” His hand squeezed yours as one of his brothers jumped off the deck railing, landing in front of you both. He pulled Josh into a hug and then turned his attention to you. 

“My brother has not shut up about you since you met. You’re too pretty for him, by the way. If you want a Kiszka worth your time, I am readily available,” your eyes widened at his words, shocked at what he had just said about his own brother. 

“This is Jake, my twin. He doesn’t know how to read a room and keep that mouth of his shut,” he and Jake quickly pulled into a tussle and you jumped when another voice appeared from behind you, yelling loudly. 

“Boys knock it off!” You turned to see a woman with short blonde hair and a large smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, you are gorgeous. Hi, honey! I’m Karen,” she pulled you into a tight hug as you awkwardly laughed, gently wrapping your arms around the woman before someone else spoke up.

“Come on, let them be stupid. I’m Veronica, but everyone calls me Ronnie. You can help us get the condiments and stuff ready,” her arm linked with yours, pulling you with her towards the house. Your eyes widened, panic coursing through you, but you tamped it down.

You could do this.

It was over an hour later when Josh finally found you. You were sitting on the couch with his mom and sister, watching them flip through his baby album, telling stories behind the images. 

“There you are. You were stolen from me and I’ve been looking all over for you,” his face lit up as you came into his sight, you returning the smile as he saw what sat on your lap, his mom on one side of you, his sister on the other. “Oh no, how did you get into the baby books so fast?” He took it off your lap, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you up from the couch.

“I’m stealing her back!” You laughed as he ran you away from them, leading you upstairs to his room. His hands cupped your cheeks once the door shut and he smiled at you. “Hi, I’m sorry you got stolen. You okay?” You put your hands on his forearms and leaned into his touch.

“I’m good,” he brought you forward and let his lips land on your forehead. You turned around from him and took in the room. It was every aspect of his personality in one single spot. 

The posters took up every square inch of space they could, every band you could think of represented. His desk was cluttered, knick knacks, old books, journals, papers littered the space. He had a bookshelf that only had a few books actually on it, the shelves filled with old CD’s and records. His bedding was light green with a pattern you couldn’t make out because the bed was unmade. The room smelled of incense. It was Josh.

You slowly walked around the room, taking in every little fact you could, storing it in your brain for use later. He eventually ended up behind you, explaining what things were and why he had them. His fingers danced on your arms as he spoke quietly so only you two could hear, giggles mixing together at some of the tales behind the objects.

When someone clears their throat behind you both, you jump, hand landing on your heart, Josh grabbing you to still you as he laughed. “Honey, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to let you two know that the food is ready,” his mom laughed at your surprise. 

You smiled at her as Josh said you’d be down in just a minute. When you two ventured back downstairs, everyone had made their way outside, the outdoor dining table packed with people. You sat next to Josh as he made you a plate, handing you all your favorites as he yelled at his brothers from across the table, occasionally throwing food at one another.

You heard your name flow from someone's mouth and as you saw his dad smiling at you, you knew it came from him. “So, remind me again what you’re in school for,” as you went to answer, hands slightly trembling as the attention settled on you, Josh spoke up.

“She’s an English major, but she’s going to be a librarian. My girl is so smart it’s insane,” your cheeks burned as his mom's smile widened at his words. She looked at her husband who returned the look. 

“I think it’s quite fitting that Josh is with someone who can professionally shush him for a living. Someone needs to,” you laughed at the joke his younger brother said, but you shrugged as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. “I don’t mind his talking. I actually like it a lot,” he smiled at your words, squeezing your knee. 

As the night came to a close and it was time for you to head back to campus, Josh’s mom grabbed you into another bone crushing hug. “Thank you for coming out. I know we can be a lot. Especially him, but I think you’re so good for him,” as you pulled back, her hands cupped your cheeks and patted them.

“Alright, mom give her back,” he gently tugged you away from her as you waved bye, saying how great it was to meet everyone. The drive home was quiet, the windows rolled down, your eyes shut, feeling the breeze skirt across your face.

His hand held yours the entire time, thumb brushing against the back of it. “Everyone loved you, just so you know. Think you’re way too good for me,” his soft smile had your chest growing warm. You didn’t respond with words, only tightening your grip on his hand, saying all you needed to. 

Weeks later at dinner with Josh you took a moment in the lull of his constant chatter to interject. “Hey babe. What would you think about meeting my mom this weekend?” It was like you had asked him to marry you. The excitement coursed through him and he started talking incredibly fast. 

“Oh my god, yes, absolutely. She wants to meet me? What do you want to do? Why don’t I take us all out to dinner? Obviously we’ll go to her. What good restaurants are there?” He grabbed his phone to start looking as you chuckled at his giddiness, grabbing his hand to still him. 

“Josh, take a breath. She wants to cook for us,” he switched gears, asking what he should wear. He was nervous and you thought it was adorable. This was much less intimidating than when you met his family, but he wanted to make the best impression on her.

In his eyes it was more difficult. With his family, if one person didn’t like you that was fine because there were a dozen others that did. With your family it was just your mom. If she didn’t like him, what the hell was he going to do? 

When you pulled up to your home, Josh nervously fixed his shirt, having your hand in a death grip as you walked to the door. He was in awe of the mid-century home that sat on the hill away from other houses. 

You walked in and the smell of home cooking greeted you both. It was incredibly quiet, the sounds of cooking took up the space as well as some music playing very low in the background, almost on silent. 

“Hi, mom,” you spoke out as you entered the kitchen. Her face lit up as she hurried over to you both, taking you in a tight hug. “Hi, baby,” Josh watched as you two stayed locked in the hug for a beat longer than normal. You didn’t get out to see your mom often, her being a few hours drive from you, so you cherished the time you could get.

You looked briefly at the boy whose eyes wandered the rooms he could see and noticed that they all appeared like no one ever lived in them. 

As you pulled back, you grabbed Josh’s hand and gently pulled him forward, snapping his attention back to the moment. “Mom, this is Josh,” her smile brightened even more as she took him into a hug. “Josh, welcome to our home. It’s so nice to meet you,” he smiled at her as she ushered you both to sit down. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me over,” Josh spoke out as you pointed to the chair he should take. She brought you both a glass of wine, but you didn’t sit with him, going around the island to see what she needed help with. 

“Oh, of course, Josh. You-” she pointed at you with a smile, “go sit down. I got this,” you followed her instructions going and sitting while taking your hand in Josh’s, lacing your fingers together and giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Josh, what do you do?” She turned leaning on the counter, smiling gently as she sipped from her glass.

You three fell into easy conversation over dinner. Josh told her stories of him and his brothers, their passions for music, his adoration of film, and his love for you. Your mom listened intently to his stories, occasionally adding to the conversation between you two, but she mainly observed. 

As the night wound down, you took over the dishes for her, leaving her and Josh to chat in the living room for a bit. You could hear her laugh echo in the house at whatever Josh had said. You wandered into the room and peered around the corner, seeing the two of them chat like old friends.

She loved him. Of course she did. Who didn’t love Josh? 

“Babe, we gotta get going. It’s a long drive back,” you sighed reluctantly as he stood at the same time as your mom. “Let me use the restroom real quick, then we’ll go,” he kissed your cheek as he walked by. 

Your mom gave you a soft smile, waiting to hear the noise of the door click. “He’s sweet, love. I like him,” she knew you were waiting for her to speak. A breath of relief rushed from your chest, a smile growing at her words, but she turned, grabbing the empty glass as she continued. 

“But he’s going to hurt you. Not intentionally I don’t think, but it will happen. You two are so-” she took a breath, walking past you to the kitchen, your stomach flipping as you listened to her talk, smile falling down as she continued, “different. Too different. He’s into that music thing which is great, but that will end up being his personality. It’ll take over his life and that’ll be great for him. Not for you. I’m not saying it can’t work out, but you are my baby and I want you to be okay. I just want what’s best for you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Just be careful, okay?” 

You didn’t have time to respond before he reappeared, arm slipping around your waist. “Ready to hit the road, mouse?” You nodded, plastering a smile on your face despite the feeling of dread sitting heavy in your stomach. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” you walked to the door, taking your mom in a hug as she rubbed your back, her words sitting heavy on you. “Josh, come back anytime. It was a pleasure having you. I want to hear more stories about those wild brothers of yours,” he chuckled, letting your mom briefly hug him. 

“Of course, I have a million more to share. Thank you again for having me,” you two walked to the car and as he drove away, you watched your mom growing smaller and smaller as you drove off. 

Her words rattled you for a bit, but as time moved forward, you and Josh stayed strong. You believed he was the love of your life and who you were destined to be with. As his music took off with his brothers and the years rolled on, you continued on your track as he ventured off to focus on the band.

They had become a huge success and you got to watch him blossom into a captivating man. You loved his brothers and they took you in as one of their own without hesitation. It was what you had missed as a child and although it was a lot to deal with, you slowly got more used to it. 

You would never be the person to actively seek out activity that would cast you in any sort of social light, but you felt calmer with Josh by your side. He loved introducing you to people and telling them, “The love of my life is a librarian. She runs her own library, like she’s the lady in charge.” It always made your face burn, tucking further into his side as he said the most praising things about you everytime he could.

The two of you had moved in together two years into your relationship and it was the perfect chaos of your combined personalities. When Josh needed to come home and destress after a long day at the studio, you ensured that the house was set for that. He knew when you needed more attention than normal, never going out of your way to ask for it, but he would dote on you. Pulling you from the couch to dance with you, hands always on you in some way, asking you to talk about your day just to hear your voice and knowing when you needed to talk about your problems. 

When he was gone on tour, you started missing his constant presence in the house, but you were okay. Everyone swore you had the perfect personality to be matched with someone like Josh, despite being polar opposites you both were exactly what the other needed. 

Your mom's words never left your mind though. Keeping a watchful eye on things over the years to be able to tell if something was going to happen, but as time went on, it fell off your radar completely. 

That’s why when things did change, you didn’t catch it earlier. 

The first time an icky feeling wormed its way into your gut was on a Friday night. You had been reading on the couch, already having washed your face and thrown on your pajamas, when Josh walked out of your room, fully dressed. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. “Where you going, bug?” He grabbed his phone from the counter, slipping his shoes on as he walked over to where you sat, quickly kissing your temple. “Going to get a drink with my brothers. I’ll be back later, okay?” You nodded, offering a tired smile as he left. 

That hadn’t been the time it had made you feel odd. It was the fifth time it happened. 

It was that time where he didn’t walk over to kiss you goodbye, only quickly saying a whispered goodnight over his shoulder as he talked to someone on the phone in an upset tone, leaving the house and you sitting completely alone. You took in a shaky breath, but pushed the feeling down. 

He just forgot. 

You had asked him a few days later if he wanted to go out for dinner that night and he excitedly agreed. As you two sat at your favorite place, he got your order wrong. You chuckled awkwardly as he ordered before correcting him. He looked shocked that he had gotten it wrong, but you shrugged it off.

“You’ve been tired. How was today by the way?” You sipped your drink as he brushed off the topic. “We finally recorded my song, but it wasn’t anything like I wanted it to be. Nothing new,” your heart sank a tiny bit. 

Josh had never passed on the opportunity to talk about his passions, especially the album they had been slaving over for months. You sat quietly, almost unsure what else to talk about, but the waiter brought your appetizer and he started on a story about what Jake had done last week at the bar they had gone to. Without you, again. 

Little moments like that came and went, but they hung heavy over you. You felt like you were watching Josh make moves away from you. Was he growing and you weren’t entirely keeping up with that? You had felt content with how your life currently was. How you were together, but doubt settled in you because Josh didn’t appear to be feeling the same way anymore. 

You and Jita sat chatting at dinner a few weeks later, but she grabbed her phone and sighed anxiously. “I meant to show you, this is what I’m wearing to the release party next week. What are you wearing? We should match, that would be so cute!”

As she showed you the photos, you shifted in your seat, uncomfortable silence falling on the table as you quietly answered. “Uh-what party?” You tried to laugh through the nausea that sat in your throat. The brothers eyes all darted to Josh, who looked back at you before what had happened dawned on him.

“Shit, I meant to tell you tonight. The album release party is next week,” you stared at him as he refused to look at you, instead making eye contact with Jake. Jita cleared her throat, trying to clear the tension that sat. 

“Okay, well we can find you something. We have time!” You forced a smile as your heart sank further into your gut. You felt sick to your stomach and excused yourself from the table, walking quickly to the bathroom as the restaurant was growing too loud for your liking, needing a moment to calm down and breathe. 

When you left the table, your hearing tuned in to yourself to calm down, but you heard Sam speak first. “Josh, what the fucks going on, man?” Your eyes welled with tears as you eyed the restroom, opting to step out of the building instead. 

The door opened and closed behind you as your shaking hands grabbed the railing in front of you. “Hey mouse. You feeling okay?” You knew that voice anywhere. Turning and smiling at Danny, you nodded your head.

“Just a bit loud is all,” he stood next to you and stared out at the city view in front of you both. You and Danny had grown unbelievably close over the years, finding comfort in each other with how quiet and reserved the two of you could be. He never pried more than necessary and his presence was a comfort on its own. 

When your breathing calmed down Danny chuckled. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear to that party. Apparently it’s a formal thing, but I mean, do they even know us?” You laughed as he spoke. “Throw on some dress pants and shirt and you’ll be set.”

After a bit of time, you wandered back into the restaurant to see the group getting up from the table. Josh looked at you both and then focused his attention on you. “Ready to go?” You nodded, saying goodnight to everyone and following him out. 

It was quiet the entire drive home and when you got home, Josh went straight to bed. 

You and Jita went shopping the next day and you found a dress that made you feel beautiful and what you thought would make Josh’s eyes bug out of his head a bit. It was you stepping out of your comfort zone and you knew Josh would be proud of you for doing so.

The day of the event, you spent hours getting ready. You made sure your hair was just right, makeup done tastefully, and the dress was on correctly. He was waiting in the living room for you and when you came out, his eyes were glued to his screen.

You felt silly being so nervous, but this was something you hadn’t done before and you were anxious to see what he would say. Josh heard you enter the room and he quickly looked at you and smiled before going and grabbing his keys.

“You look good, mouse. Ready?” You didn’t know how to react, just grabbing your bag and nodding your head, walking out behind him. Maybe you expected too much. You had put too high of hopes. Maybe you didn’t look as good as you had previously thought. 

When you entered the party with him, Josh broke from you almost immediately, saying he was going to talk to some people. When Sam and Jake’s eyes fell on you, their smiles took over their entire face. “Jesus Christ, mouse. You look fantastic. Absolutely breathtaking,” your face burned as Jita came and showed you the table where you were all supposed to sit. 

You sat at that table waiting for Josh for almost an hour with Jita before Jake came and took her away. Danny came up behind you, startling you as you jumped with a laugh. “What’s a pretty girl like you sitting here all alone for?” Your eyes fell to Josh and saw him laughing and chatting with a group of people you didn’t know and Danny followed your gaze. “Ah, you know I’m not good at this stuff,” you waved your arm around the space, trying to laugh off the situation, but he wasn’t having it.

“He’s being stupid. C’mon, I’ll take you around then if he won’t,” you took Danny’s arm, letting him lead you around the room, chatting with people you had never met and seeing others you had known for years. 

You had never felt so grateful for someone to be your saving grace at that moment than you were for Danny. You two had a blast, laughing together as you leaned against the bar, people watching and snickering into your glasses. 

When you two landed back at the table, just the two of you, your eyes instinctively found the boy you had been in love with since you were a teenager. 

Your mom was right. The more you thought about it, the more you realized it. Sadness took over your being as you thought to yourself. You two were such extreme opposites that it wasn’t going to work. Especially as he continued to morph into a person that was more outgoing than ever before. He was outgrowing you. 

Danny saw you staring off into space and you felt his hand take yours. “Danny?” You asked out, seeing him eye you, waiting for you to continue. “Do you think Josh still loves me?” You whispered it out, only wanting him to hear. He was basically your best friend and someone you knew would give you what you needed to hear not what you wanted to hear. 

Your eyes fell to him and a sad smile took over your face as your eyes grew glossy. “It’s okay. Be honest with me,” he shook his head and spoke, pulling your attention solely to him. “Of course he does. He’s been tired from working on this album, we’ve all been fighting more than normal and I know that’s taking it out of everyone right now, and I know things have been weird, but they’ll go back. It’s you,” he said it like it was so obvious, but it only further solidified what you were thinking.

He was right. It was you. 

You and Josh drove home together that night and when you tried to make small talk to break the silence that you couldn’t feel comfortable in no matter what peace you tried to find, you instantly regretted it. 

“That was fun tonight. It was fun seeing everyone all dressed up. I met a lot of new people and saw people I hadn’t seen in ages,” your fingers linked through themselves as you spoke, but Josh only scoffed at your words. Irritation seeped into every syllable he spoke. 

“Yeah, you sat at that table all night. You didn’t talk to anyone except Danny,” you bit back any more words, knowing if you spoke anymore it would only escalate the situation. You weren’t good with confrontation and tried to diffuse situations at any chance you could to make sure you would escape unscathed. 

That meant remaining quiet for the rest of the ride home. When you pulled up to the house and went inside, Josh went and sat on the couch as you went to your room and changed. He hadn’t moved as you reappeared, but he spoke as soon as he saw your figure. 

“Why couldn’t you try? Just tonight, why not?” Your face contorted in confusion as he spoke. “What do you mean?” He laughed dryly as he continued on. “I needed one night's worth of effort from you. To go around and talk to people. Do you know how embarrassing it was to see you sitting at the table like a scolded child?” Your jaw hung slack at his words, eyes wide in shock as he spoke.

“I did talk to people. I went around with Danny for a bit,” you whispered back, not wanting to speak louder, not sure if you could. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to, but I don’t really have anything to apologize for Josh. I hardly knew anyone at the event anyways. I went around the room and spoke to plenty of people all without you,” he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. 

“With Danny! Not alone! You didn’t know anyone? Then go talk to people! You hardly left his side all night, it was like he took you, not me,” you crossed your arms and looked at him in disbelief.

 “That’s your fault, not mine. The second we walked in the door, you disappeared. Danny didn’t want me sitting by myself,” he cut you off as you tried to keep talking, overpowering you easily in the conversation.

“Of course he didn’t, but I did. Here’s what we’ll do, you just sit here in your silence like you always do and I’ll be in there cooling down so I don’t say anything else stupid, yeah?” Your eyes widened as he spoke, unsure where he had gotten that from. He walked out of the room, closing the bedroom door with a slam behind him.

You didn’t need this. Didn’t deserve this. You quickly grabbed your shoes and car keys, leaving and taking a breather for the night.

When you pulled up to an empty parking lot, you sat in your car and cried. You cried for what you knew you had lost. Your Josh had been gone for a while and someone new stood in his place. Someone that didn’t suit you anymore. Someone that needed something different, someone to better match what his life was like. That wasn’t you. 

You were sitting on the empty living room floor, taking in the space around you and smiling to yourself at the memories that were going to happen in this place. The home you now shared with Josh. It was quiet, letting you close your eyes for a second and listen to the house itself. 

“Okay, mouse. Movers are gonna be here in like twenty minutes, we need to go to a store of some sort to get some basics. Mom, dad, and brothers are coming up tomorrow. I think we made sure the air mattress was unpacked and in the Jeep so we have somewhere to sleep tonight,” his rambling echoed and bounced off the empty walls and you just smiled, listening to him grow closer to where you sat. 

His large hands landed on your knees, creeping up your thighs, forehead pushing against yours. “Sorry, didn’t know you were in quiet time,” you let your hands go behind his ears, tucking the hair back and opening your eyes.

“I was just listening to the house is all. Getting used to its noises,” he hummed, landing his lips against yours before pushing you onto your back and laying on you. His lips moved from yours to your neck and you giggled as his fingers tickled your sides.

“Talk more to me, Josh. What else do we need to do?” He pulled back, dotting the end of each of his sentences with a kiss somewhere new on you. A knock on the door pulled you two from the little world you had fallen in and he stood, taking you with him. 

“Ready to build our world together?” You sunk into his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulder, kissing your forehead as you walked to the door. “Can’t wait.”

You hiccuped in the car from crying so hard, hand angrily wiping at your face as the tears continued to fall. The house had seen so many good memories, but lately they had only consisted of you or the two of you on opposite ends of the world you both had constructed for the two of you. 

Your phone went off and as you checked it you saw missed calls and messages from Josh, one text from Jake which meant he was calling everyone. You texted Jake back quickly before he talked to anyone else. 

Twin #2- Hey Josh called me asking if I’d heard from you. You okay? What’s going on?

You- I’m good. Just taking a breather

Twin #2- I’ll let him know. I’m here if you need me 

Your tears fell harder as that message popped up on your screen. Losing Josh didn’t just mean parting from him, but from the family you had become a part of that you absolutely adored. 

“Okay, okay! This one is for mouse, from Karen and Kelly,” Ronnie handed you a beautifully wrapped present that had your chin wobbling. “Guys, I told you no gifts please,” his mom waved you off as you leaned against Josh. “Go on and open it!”

He eagerly watched as you opened the wrapping. When you pulled out a photo album that was full of pictures of you and the siblings, extended family, and Josh you bit back tears. “I know how much you love going through those books and I wanted you to have one, too. You’re one of us now and that means you get an album, but it stays here with the rest of them.”

You had never felt more at home with a group of people then you did with them and this made you feel like a part of a family that you had never would have thought you would get to be a part of. 

“This is the best gift I’ve ever been given. Thank you,” you choked back tears as you spoke and Josh kissed your head, taking it and going through it. “Actually that would be me, but this is a close second,” you slapped his arm as everyone groaned at him, Sam throwing wrapping paper in your direction. Josh kissed your cheek as he giggled with you.

“Who’s next? I’ve been skipped twice now!” Jake yelled into the room as he moved under the tree to grab another gift.

Staring out onto the horizon, it was still dark, the sun not expected to rise for the next couple of hours. The calls and texts from others stopped, but Josh persisted. You eventually shut your phone off, not wanting to see the panicked questions from him on where you were and why you had left. 

Silence was your friend. It had been for the majority of your life, but now as you sat in it, staring into the rolling hills, it ate at you. 

Josh brought a chaos of noise with him wherever he went and over time it was what you had come to love in your home, just like how he craved the sanctuary of quiet you brought with you wherever you went. 

It was late. Extremely late. Far too late for you to be up and waiting for him to return home, but you hadn’t seen him in weeks and were desperate to just catch sight of him for a second.

What you didn’t expect to happen was to drift off to sleep on the couch waiting for his impending arrival. 

As Josh entered into your shared home, the silence greeted him in a welcoming embrace. It stilled his thoughts, dulled the overstimulating tremble in his hands, evened his breathing out, eyes slipping shut to savor the quiet, tuning in his listening to see if he could place you somewhere in the house.

He spotted you from the entryway into the living room, curled up into the corner of the couch, throw blanket haphazardly thrown over your lap, a book you had been reading to keep you awake was about to fall onto the floor.

His heart ached at the sight of you. It was dimly lit in the house, your chest was rising and falling signaling you had been out for a bit. He crept towards you, removing the blanket and brushing his hand over your forehead, fingers rubbing into your scalp to lightly wake you. 

As your eyes slowly peeled open and you saw his large doe eyes crinkling as he smiled at you, one hand on your head, the other on your knee, rubbing small circles into the fabric of your pajama pants, you smiled back tiredly and groaned. 

Your hand pushed through his messy curls, moving them from his forehead as you spoke. “Hi bug,” he chuckled as your sleep riddled voice broke the silence of the room, the first time he’d heard your sound in person in weeks. 

“Hi mouse,” he leaned forward, setting his lips on yours in a kiss that was normally far too gentle for him, but seemed perfect in the moment. Your fingers cradled his jaw as he slowly moved his mouth on yours. 

As he pulled back you let your hand rest in its spot and slightly pouted at the boy. “‘M so sorry, bug. I tried to stay up,” he shook his head, lips landing on your forehead. “Don’t apologize, mama. Our flight was delayed getting in. It’s already almost two. C’mon, let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

You nodded, getting up from the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in deeply as his arms enclosed around your waist, holding you for just a second. “Missed you, mama,” his murmured voice was muffled by his head moving to the nook of your neck. 

Your hands traveled from his neck up to his head, tangling your fingers in the locks and sighing at the happiness coursing through you as you held him. 

The two of you stayed like that for longer than you thought, just drinking in one another, willing time to stay like it was just you two in the world. In the world you two had created together, it was just you two. It was always just you two. 

As you opened the front door to the house, music shook the walls and the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen created a ringing in your ears that had a smile creeping onto your face.

It had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was get home to your boy since he had been gone for so long. The noise that rattled through the rooms leading you to him was what you had craved since his departure. It meant your other half was there and present with you. 

When you turned the corner and saw him in the kitchen, dirty dishes piled high in the sink, but two plates of food sitting at the dining room table, the scene made you laugh. His back was to you, not knowing that you had arrived home because of how loud the music was. 

His mop of curls bopped along to the song playing through the speakers and his soft voice whispered under his breath with the lyrics. 

“You know you are the only person I know who needs to use every single pan we own to make dinner?” He startled at your presence, almost dropping the bottle of wine he held in his hands, but his rosy cheeks lifted with his smile at you. 

“Shit, mama. Don’t scare me like that. C’mon, come sit. I made your favorite dinner. Don’t look at the kitchen, I’ll clean later,” he approached you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you to him. You drank him in as your lips connected, savoring the fleeting moment before he led you to your seat. 

You stared at him the entire time through the meal. Candles illuminated the room as he spoke, dancing on the walls and basking his shadow in a fitting glow. It was like watching a show on the far wall as his movements cast onto it. 

His hand wrapped around your own and pulled it to his lips after he finished another story from the few weeks they had been gone. “I love you,” you spoke it out as he eyed you, eyes gleaming at your words. He pulled you from your chair and onto his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck, eyes slipping shut and breathing you in. 

“I love you more. Tell me about the writing you’ve done while I was gone,” he spoke in a quieter tone, signaling to you that it was your turn to fill the space as he sat back and listened like it was the last story he would ever hear. 

Your tears had stopped as the morning sun took over your face, finally peeking from behind the hills. Thinking back on the times you two had shared made you think of the last time you had heard Josh say those three words to you. You couldn’t remember the last time he had. 

Cringing at the words he had spoken to you insead last night. Reality felt like it was hurtling towards you at a pace you were not prepared to deal with. It was slapping you across the face and the stinging sensation was what told you that this was real and happening. 

Even though you never hoped it would. 

Josh moved around the stage like it was where he was meant to be. Fans screamed his name, shouting how much they loved him and you smiled as you heard it. Who couldn’t love Josh? 

As the show finished you made your way backstage to meet up with him and his brothers and smiled as you saw him already changed and waiting for you. His adrenaline was always at an extreme high after a show and he used you to ground him, get him back to normal. 

His hands found home on your hips as he attacked you with kisses, not bothering to say hi, letting his actions do that for him. Your laughter echoed in the space as he continued kissing you anywhere he could reach. 

“God, you guys, knock it off. I’m not drunk enough to deal with this right now,” Sam groaned as he walked past you two, but Josh flipped him off as he went by. “You enjoy the show? You feeling alright?” Josh’s voice was low so only you could hear him, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as you nodded your head, lightly pecking his lips. 

“It was great, sweetie. You were great. I’m good,” his lips landed on the tip of your nose as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, lips coming to the shell of your ear. “The boys want to go to a bar. You wanna go?” You knew he wanted to, which was why he brought it up and you were still feeling antsy after the energetic show and agreed quickly, seeing his face light up. 

You were tucked into Josh’s side in the booth and were two drinks in for the night and about to stop with anymore as the night continued on. Conversation bounced around the space between the group and you sat contently, listening to everyone shout over each other before eyes fell on you. 

“What do you do? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” One of the newer tour members spoke out over everyone and you smiled at his question, clearing your throat to speak up louder than you were used to. 

“I’m just a librarian,” his eyes squinted as he smiled at your response, but Josh spoke up quickly. “Just a librarian? Her job is so important for society as a whole. The library she works for relies on her for everything, she runs the entire place,” he leaned forward on the table as he continued speaking, your heart fluttering as he spoke so passionately about your job. “Do you know all the programs that a single library runs? It’s absolutely mind boggling and she does it all.”

Josh continued talking about your position for the rest of the night before it was time to go, enlightening the group to the true meaning of what being a librarian was. 

When you two got home that night, he eyed you in bed and sighed. “Baby? I want to talk to you about tonight,” you felt your stomach sink at his words. What happened? Had you done something?

“I don’t like hearing you talk down on yourself or your job the way you do. I know you try to play it off like it’s nothing, but it really is important. It’s a part of you that you love and that I most definitely love and I don’t want to hear you talk down about it, okay? If you’re too nervous or whatever about it, then I will. I don’t want you to think I’m embarrassed about what you do or you because that’s not the case now and it never will be. I love what you do and I love you.” 

You were speechless at his words, not having realized before how upset those actions had made him. You were only able to nod in response before he kissed you and had you lying flush with him, head resting on his chest listening to his steady breathing as he quickly fell asleep after the day he had. 

You loved him and everything that came with him and he loved the same about you. 

Sitting in the driveway you stared at the house, fear pummeling you at having to go inside and face what was about to happen. Your hands shook tremendously and you could feel bile rising in your throat as you opened the door and stepped in. 

You took a moment to listen to the house, trying to get your heart rate down, but ultimately failing as you heard movement in the living room. Exhaling a shaky breath you made your way towards him, knowing he would be waiting for you. 

When he came into view, his hair was a disheveled mess and his back was facing the entryway. He hadn’t slept, you could easily tell. He heard your footsteps enter the room and he quickly turned to face you, eyes rimmed red and bloodshot, exhaustion clear on his face. 

“Jesus, thank god. Where the hell were you? You were gone all night and had me fucking panicking. What is going on? You just left,” he stood up from the couch and tried reaching for your hand, but you took a step back and put your own up to stop him.

His demeanor shifted at your movement and stopped in his spot as he eyed you, confusion evident in his eyes. “I came out to talk to you and you were just gone. Jake said you went to take a breather,” he lowered his voice to a quieter tone to match the level you were giving. 

It felt like you were staring at the old Josh again. The one you had fallen madly in love with all those years ago and who you had built the perfect little world with. The one you swore you were going to build a solid life with. The one who made you feel like you were the only person in the world when you were with him. It felt like it was him. 

You cleared your throat, voice wavering as you spoke. “Josh, I think we need to take a break,” you attempted to keep your voice still and not break as the words left your mouth. You had thought about it all night and you knew this was the only way to go forward because it wasn’t the same anymore and you weren’t sure it would ever be the same again. 

His eyes widened, tears forming as the sentence settled over the room. “What?” His voice was barely a whisper and would have fallen on deaf ears, but you heard. You always heard. 

“I think we need to take a break. I don’t think this-” you motioned between the two of you, standing on opposite sides of the room, but might as well have been on opposite sides of the world, “is working anymore, Josh.” You felt your eyes burning, knowing fresh tears were threatening to fall. 

He didn’t make a move, didn’t tear his eyes away from your figure, didn’t breathe as he responded. “What?” Was all he could respond with, knowing his brain wouldn’t function with more thoughts other than that.

Your eyes fell downcast to the floor, looking at your sock clad feet and sniffled before continuing. 

“I don’t know what changed, but something changed. You don’t treat me the same anymore. Last night you said you were embarrassed of me,” your eyes flashed up to see how he reacted to your words, tears spilling down your face and his as you willed yourself to continue. 

“I am so sorry that I am not a social butterfly, honest to god I am so sorry. I want to be that for you, I try, I promise I do, but it’s not me. That’s you. The energy you bring to everything's amazing and I love it so much, but I am not you. I am quiet and reserved and I used to think that was what you loved about me, but damn it I’m watching you start to resent me for it, Josh,” you were talking quickly, words spilling out of your mouth as your thoughts raced. 

“I think you need someone better suited for you because I don’t think it’s me anymore. You don’t invite me out with the group anymore, you didn’t want me to go to the event last night and when I was there you didn’t even look my way all night. Do you know the last time you said I love you to me? It was a month and two weeks ago and I don’t think you love me anymore. I don’t want you to feel stuck with me because that’s not fair to either of us.”  

As you finished, trying to catch your breath as tears continued their track down your cheeks, you looked at him. He had no expression on his face as he listened intently to you, hanging on every word you said. 

“You don’t think I love you anymore?” He spoke out after a beat, voice cracked and broken as he spoke out in disbelief that he was even saying those words to you. In response, you shook your head, looking back down at the floor. 

“I think you did. I do, but I think you’ve outgrown me, Josh. I think we are just too different,” he moved quickly around the room, putting his shoes on and grabbing his keys off the counter, and moving towards the door, grabbing your own shoes before coming back to face you.

“You need to come with me,” he crouched in front of you, putting your shoes on and grabbed your hand and pulled you with him out the door. “Josh, I’m not going anywhere with you right now,” you stopped as he got to the car, but he rushed back around and stood in front of you and took in a shaky breath, hands clearly trembling as he spoke. 

“I need you to just come with me, baby, please. I have to show you something and I swear after if you think I don’t love you anymore then we can figure out what we need to do, but please, just come with me,” he was begging, his eyes were filled with fear, chin wobbling as he spoke. 

You nodded and got in the passenger seat, Josh hurrying to get you to where he needed to take you. 

The ride there was silent, he fought the urge to grab your hand in his own, eyes attempting to take in your features and keep watch of the road as he drove. You sighed as you saw the recording studio come into view, this being the last place on earth you wanted to be. 

You reluctantly got out and followed him into the empty building, sitting where he told you to sit and eyeing him as he moved to do what he needed to.

He turned and faced you, eyes scanning your face and noticing the irritation and sorrow flashing across your features. “I lied to you,” your eyebrows knit together at his confession. 

“I lied to you for months and I am so sorry. We weren’t going out on the nights where I would leave. We were coming here. Every single night for months. I didn’t tell you because I knew you would be worried about the amount of hours I was working. I was here when everyone else wasn’t because I needed everything just right. I needed the most important thing I have ever written to be perfect because it needed to be for you. I obsessed over it and lost sleep over it and fought with my brothers over it because no matter what we did I just couldn’t fucking get it right. I wanted it to be as perfect as you and that just isn’t possible, but damn if this isn’t as close as we could get,” you watched as he spoke so fast he was tripping over his own words, hands going wild as he acted out them out, eyes bouncing around the room as he tried to explain it to you. 

His hand hit something on the board in front of you both and when music started playing, your thoughts went quiet. The buzzing of your mind ceased and you were able to solely focus on what was playing through the room. 

It was simply the most beautiful thing you had ever heard written from Josh and his thoughts. Pure art that he made into musical formation in a way you would never understand. In a way that he did just for you. 

You had never heard anything like it before and as it came to an end and you turned slowly to look at him, he dropped to his knees directly in front of you, hands splaying across your thighs as he started talking again, tone back to quiet to speak in a way that he only ever did for you. 

“I fucked up and I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you and left you like I did. I neglected you for months and I made you think I didn’t love you anymore and I will never be able to apologize enough for that,” his hands moved up to cradle your face, hands still shaking as he did, tears falling down both of your cheeks, “but I do love you. More than you will ever know. I love how quiet you are and how reserved you are, I swear I love that about you. I said things to you last night that I absolutely should have not said, but I am not embarrassed of you.”

His eyes fell down as he shook his head, whispering out as he spoke. “I was jealous of you and Danny. Time got away from me and when I realized that, he had already swooped you up and it pissed me off a lot more than it should have, but I wanted to walk you around. Do you know how breathtaking you looked last night and he got to show you off, not me,” you let a wet laugh bubble from your lips as he chuckled through his own tears and the stupidity of the situation.

“You know that I get caught up in the heat of the moment and that happened last night and I am sorry. I love that you listen to me talk for hours on end about literally nothing, that when I’ve had an overstimulating day which is more often than not, I can come home to the peaceful sanctuary that you crafted for us, and I love that you think before you speak because god knows I don’t,” his thumbs brushed the tears off your face as he kissed the tip of your nose, your hands locking around his wrists, eyes closing as he did.

“I love the look you get on your face when you’re concentrating on something and your tongue pokes out. You know what I love the most about you? That you’re my opposite. I need that, I need you. I love you so much, mouse, more than anything and I am so sorry.” The panic in his tone had him speaking quickly, stumbling over his words, trying to get everything out before you spoke back to him. 

His eyes remained shut as he rested his forehead against yours, shaking his head as he held you to him. “I will spend the rest of my life telling you how much I love you because you have to know that I love you.”

Your eyes searched for his as they reopened, taking you in as you nodded your head, hands rubbing his forearms as you finally spoke back.

“Let’s start with today first,” a breath he didn’t know he had been holding exhaled from his lungs, crashing his lips onto yours in a desperate and frightened manner, before pulling back with a small laugh. 

“I need to communicate better. You’d think with how much I talk I’d be better at that.” Your laughter mixed with his as it echoed off the walls, head tipped back as he refused to take his hands off of you, not wanting to let you go for a second.

When you two got home, Josh didn’t hesitate to take you to your shared room and climb under the covers together, pure exhaustion pulling you both into sleep after the events of the last day. You laid there, completely still, as you listened to his breathing even out as he held you. His heartbeat was steady, arm heavy around you, nose in your hair as he drifted off to sleep. 

Your fingers tangled with his as you let the silence of the space enclose around you. Silence was your friend and had been for most of your life. It was always a welcome presence for you, but not as much as he was. 

His energy and noise that traveled with him like a second being was what you craved every single day. He was what you craved. Your polar opposite. 

#ficthots #josh kiszka #joshua kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet imagine #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

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How I think Milgram characters will decorate the Christmas tree! (This is just made for fun, so these are mostly my hcs based on my perceptions of them!)

Haruka

At home

-> His Christmas tree it's not that big, but not that small either

-> He liked to decorate the Christmas tree based on the person he admires the most: when he was little, he tried to decorate it so it would be for his mother's liking. Also, I think he really hates seeing two Christmas balls of the same colour next to each other, so he tries his best to not put them so close

-> At home, he would decorate it all by himself, which always makes him upset

-> Sometimes, he considers not even engaging in decorating

-> Always wanted a Christmas ball that matches his bunny plushie, but never had the courage to ask for it

-> If he weren't to decorate the Christmas tree based on the person he admires, he would just prefer to put whatever cute ornaments he finds on the box!

-> He tried to make a handmade decoration for the Christmas tree, but didn't consider it was good enough, so he abstained from putting it

In Milgram

-> Christmas became his favourite part of the year, because he doesn't need to decorate the tree all by himself anymore

-> Doesn't even need to ask what Muu's favourite theme is, he just knows it and he tries to decorate the Christmas tree based on what she likes (Haruka pays a lot of attention to the others personalities, likes and dislikes... The timeline conversations show that! I fear that not many people give him enough credit!)

-> Muu would stop him and convince him to put the cute decorations that he loves!

-> They will both make handmade decorations!

Yuno

At home:

-> Christmas is her favourite part of the year! It always makes her warmth! Baking cookies, preparing hot chocolate with her family is one of her favourite parts!

-> But nothing can be better that decorating the Christmas tree!

-> Doesn't really care for a theme (puts whatever is on the box!)

-> Hates seeing two Christmas balls next to each other: is scolding her brother for doing this mistake (definitely not projecting)

->Despite not caring much for the theme, secretly wishes to buy a pink Christmas tree and decorate it with pretty white ornaments

-> There is no way that there isn't at least one cat ornament in the Christmas tree! (I think Yuno loved Hello Kitty when she was little! Doesn't like her as much anymore, but would still love an item Hello Kitty related!)

In Milgram

-> Considering the events that happened, she initially doesn't want to decorate the Christmas tree...

-> A constant feeling of emptiness and lack of warmth seeing the others decorating, unsure if she should join

-> Mahiru notices her sadness and makes her join by telling her that she needs "help" to decorate, because her injuries are slowing her

-> Yuno agrees and despite telling herself that is for Mahiru she actually enjoys it a lot!

-> She feels warmth decorating with Mahiru! Again, doesn't care much about the theme, so she listens to what Mahiru has in mind!

-> Doesn't forget to put the cat ornament!

Fuuta

At home:

-> Doesn't like Christmas that much anymore as when he was little...

-> Sometimes considers to not decorate the Christmas tree, but feels a somewhat obligation and still does it (also puts a lot of effort) !

-> Despite that he has a small Christmas tree, he would be sure to decorate it perfectly! (Have you seen his room, before the murder happened? It's so clean and in order, I'm sure that he would do the same for the Christmas tree)

-> Very good at picking themes, changes it every year

-> Doesn't have a preference for the ornaments, because he is sticking to the themes he choses

-> Very good at decorating, gets annoyed easily if he notices something it's not right

(Not really what I had in mind, but it works I suppose...)

In Milgram

-> During trial 1, he was very attentive when it came to decorating the Christmas tree

-> Would give advice to the other prisoners of where they should place the Christmas balls

-> Doesn't decorate it himself, watches from afar

-> During trial 2, he just watches the prisoners decorating... If he feels like it, would help, but most of the time, he stays away

Muu

At home:

-> Has a very big Christmas tree!

-> Her favourite theme, and the one that she always sticks to every year, is gold and silver!

-> Despite this, she always changes the ornaments every year! She gets bored of having the same Christmas balls!

-> Gets bored halfway decorating it (because it's so tall), so she sometimes is rushing it. This causes her to put two ornaments of the same colour next to each other. Would try to resolve the problem, but if after a few tries it doesn't look how she wanted, gives up

-> Decorating the Christmas tree it's not her favourite part, but buying presents for her loved ones is and wrapping them! She loves placing them under the Christmas tree!

-> Can't wait for the first day of Christmas to come so the others can open their presents!

In Milgram

-> Happy that Haruka can help her decorate the Christmas tree in gold and silver!

-> Gives him compliments, because he is better at decorating than her!

-> Convinces him to put his favourite ornaments too!

-> Doesn't really like doing handmade ornaments, but tries for Haruka! She dislikes that her fingers feel sticky after using the glue. Despite not liking it very much, she does a good job!

Shidou

At home:

-> A big Christmas tree that gives a cozy feeling!

-> Not a big fan of decorating it, but loves it when he does it with his family!

-> Doesn't care much for themes, so he lets his children put the ornaments how they want! (if it weren't for his wife, he would let them put similar ornaments next to each other...)

-> Looks chaotic and sometimes has too many ornaments, but for some reason it still looks good!

-> Similar to Muu, he loves to put presents under the tree for his family!

-> His wrapping is kind of messy!

In Milgram

-> He doesn't decorate it, because it reminds him of his family...

-> Shidou is still watching from afar and makes sure that the atmosphere is cozy!

-> Would help Mahiru, if necessarily, to put some Christmas balls, but mostly lets Yuno to spend time with her

Mahiru

At home:

-> Takes advice from the magazines she reads and does the theme that is the most trendy at the moment and has the prettiest ornaments!

-> Would spend hours decorating it, until she is satisfied!

-> Would love to have a real Christmas tree and not one made of plastic (she loves the smell!), but feels bad for the tree. Uses a fragrance spray so the artificial tree can smell as a real one!

-> Prefers a tree that has the branches white!

-> When it comes to the themes she choses, she likes having as many interesting ornaments as possible (shaped like stars, angels, gingerbreads). She loves those which have a nice message written on them!

-> Adds some penguins in it!! It's her favourite animal!

In Milgram

-> Is the one that actually comes with the idea to decorate a Christmas tree in Milgram!

-> Asked for everyone’s preferences so she can ask for their favourite decorations!

-> Once she receives the newest magazine, she will search for cute ornaments! (not for a theme, because she wants everyone to get to express themselves decorating the tree!)

-> After she puts all the ornaments, she compliments everyone for their hard work!

-> In trial 2, because of her injuries, she asks Yuno for help! Despite not placing them herself, she still feels happy!

Kazui

At home:

-> Not a big fan of decorating the Christmas tree, but helps his wife to place the ornaments that are at a higher level!

-> Loves putting the star!

-> Doesn't go for a theme, puts whatever he finds in the box. However, if he were to chose one, he would go for a combination of red and white, since they are the Christmas colours!

-> His favourite decoration is the nutcracker, will put as many as possible! Sometimes he considers changing the star with it, but Hinako doesn't let him

In Milgram

-> He doesn't decorate, but helps other prisoners to put some ornaments, if needed, in higher places

-> Helps Amane to put the star, despite that it's his favourite part of decorating!

-> Secretly puts a nutcracker, when he thinks no one is looking

Amane

At home:

-> I will be honest, I really don't think Amane has ever decorated the Christmas tree at home... Since ornaments and cute things (considering that she can't even eat sweets or go to amusement parks) seem to be considered as "vulgar" items.

-> So I will make the Milgram part longer!

In Milgram

-> At first, wouldn't want to decorate it! After many, many pleads from Mahiru, she agrees.

-> Doesn't put many however, at first!

-> Her favourite decoration is the angel! Loves putting them!

-> If she notices a Christmas ball is not placed accordingly, she will change it so it would look good

-> Will make her own theme for placing the ornaments! Loves green and silver combination, sometimes she adds some gold!

-> Would prefer a real Christmas tree, because she loves the smell. Like Mahiru, she would use a fragrance spray so the artificial tree can smell as a real one!

-> Has a natural talent at picking nice and beautiful ornaments!

-> Doesn't want to ask for help when it comes to placing the star, but thinks it's too embarrassing to sit on a step stool.

-> Kazui notices it and helps her, despite Amane not wanting it at first

-> During trial 2, she is convinced again by Mahiru to decorate the Christmas tree

-> However, this time, she places just the angels

Mikoto

At home:

-> When he was younger, he used to make the weirdest combinations somehow work!

-> Every year he was in charge to decorate it! Didn't matter if he was doing by himself or with his family, he enjoyed a lot!

-> Usually goes for blue and red as predominant colours!

-> His tree has many ornaments and it looks full of life!

-> Would place fake branches to give the tree a more interesting design

-> Because of his work, he had to buy a small Christmas tree in order to decorate it in his very limited free time

In Milgram

-> Loves that he can again spend more time to decorate the Christmas tree, now that his work is not in his way

-> Brainstorms ideas with Mahiru for the theme that he would do

-> Thinks the nutcracker that Kazui placed is amusing, feels inspired by it!

-> During trial 2, he feels unsure if he should approach the others... He is afraid that he will destroy the atmosphere with his presence

-> Decides to stay away, but in the moment there is no one near the Christmas tree, he puts a few Christmas balls!

Kotoko

At home:

-> Doesn't care much about Christmas

-> In some years, she doesn't even decorate the Christmas tree

-> If she does, however, she would buy a small one

-> Does the same theme every year, doesn't like buying other ornaments

-> Silver and purple is her favourite combination

-> Despite not having so much patience, she would never put two Christmas balls of the same colour next to each other!

-> The only interesting Christmas ball that she would put, would be one shaped like the dragon fruit! She loves it!

-> Considers spraying her tree with a fragrant dragon fruit essence, but never actually does it

In Milgram

-> During first trial, she would put a few Christmas balls, but that's it. She mostly watches others decorating!

-> Secretly upset if there aren't many purple Christmas balls

-> In the second trial, she doesn't even approach the Christmas tree while others are decorating

That's it!! Feel free to add your hc too!!

#milgram #thoughts #christmas #hcs #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha

[stuckybarton]

Heads Under Water VII

Summary: When he sees a different side of you. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Atlantean Descendant! Filipino! Female Reader. Word Count: 1,861 Chapter Warnings: None

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Join the Library (no longer do taglist you can just turn on notif here)

Part VII:

It was the vicious words in the dead of night that had him peak from the waters.

He had saw you with the Princess earlier in the night, but as the nights grew later and the bonfire that had long died down, so did your mood. Your temper that he was uncertain you could have it in you to have in your state. In the pitch darkness, he had listened to your words. You were speaking with your boss. A conversation that wasn’t a good one. Words that were not supposed to be said, hurtful at times. K'uk'ulkan had come to learn you were capable of being so—venomous. The prim and always professional Doctor was dishing out one curse word after another.

It left with you finally ending the call and slamming the phone onto the sanded ground in front of you. A frustrated scream escaped your lips as you finally settled yourself onto the tree stump he had slowly learned you favored when you visit the beach.

“You can stop looking like a pervert by the waters.”

It took him by surprise just how angry you were. Since the beginning, when he had first started to watch you at night as you spent the rest of the night off in the beach, you would never acknowledge him—not even when you had known he was there. Whatever anger you might have had overtaken any hesitation or precaution you might have in your body.

“It seems like I have caught you in a bad time?” He began, walking further back into the surface.

The cool air doing wanders towards his warming skin after being caught and called out.

“You tell me.” You muttered eyes glaring daggers at the discarded phone.

K'uk'ulkan could only nod and take the device and hand it back to you. He felt a far too dangerous spark as he touched your skin. He said nothing, instead choosing to look at you, how your eyes stared blankly at the device now back in your possession.

The frown growing deeper on your face the more you looked at the device.

“Sometimes I just want to run away from my responsibilities and never look back.” You began, moving to give him space to sit.

K'uk'ulkan’s head was telling him not to, but his body said otherwise as he found himself sitting beside you on the stump, your dry thigh touching his own damp ones but chose not to acknowledge. Even in the cold airs, your warmth already consumed him.

“Why don’t you?” He inquired now his eyes gazing up towards the stars.

“It’s not that simple.”

“If you desire something, you would not speak of it out loud unless you want to do it—much less let a stranger know about it.”

Even in the darkness, the glow of the moon allowed him to see the way you rolled your eyes at this words. Had it been any other individual, his weapon would already be stained with their blood. But he knew better, he knew you were different from what he was, what the people of Wakanda know of as rankings.

“I have responsibilities.” You pointed out plopping the device onto the sands between your feet. “It’s not as big or as grand as you and Princess Shuri’s, but I still got mouths to feed.”

“A husband and children waiting for you?”

“God No.” You giggled then, almost finding humor in his line of question. “I wouldn’t subject a husband or children to the line of work that I have right now. I don’t think I’m even cut out to be a wife or a mother in my state.”

“Then who?”

“My parents.” You answered, smiling as you looked at him and he couldn’t help himself from looking right back. “I’ve got so much I want to do to make them proud. They made ends meet while putting me through college, being here earning a shit load of money while also doing the things that I lovem, I’m doing all of it for them—I want to make them realize they didn’t bet on losing dogs.”

“I’m sure they know that.” He tried to reassure you, knowing the same experience from his own mother long ago. The promise he had to keep even if it meant bloodshed. He kept his promise to his mother even after her death.

“They always say they do. But I know it’s not enough, they’re just being—my parents.” You shrugged.

He blinked not knowing what else was there to say. You were right, some parents are just like that, they constantly see the best in their children but not all would mend those that could see their worst.

“What would you do—if all was said and done and you do not burden yourself with your responsibilities?” He asked instead, genuinely wanting to pick up their conversation still.

“I might want to stay here in Wakanda, I want to learn more than I already know. I want to help the people that are less fortunate or lacked the equipment for everyday things that we have right now.”

More and more, he is fascinated with you and how you speak. Viciousness, meekness, and now passion that he had never seen in his lifetime. You had everything you could ever have as a surface dweller and instead of trying to capitalize in what you have—you chose to give it away.

“Talokan has learning you might be interested in.” He points out. “You are already versed in our tongue, learning our ways wouldn’t be much of a problem for you.” He smiled remembering in the short amount of your stay you had been able to learn his language in a way that took the people of Wakanda weeks or even months to do.

The offer was once made by Princess Shuri to stay for the sake of the scientist. But when all was said and done, she held a bigger responsibility that he could not take from her—but you, you held something so fragile that any minute it could fade away. He should not welcome another surface dweller—let alone an outsider in his home, but in the conversation you had both with your boss and your own mother, you have never once spoke about his people nor anything about Wakanda. He trusted you, more than he ever should for someone he had only known for less than a month.

“Good luck with placing me anywhere near the water.” You snort. “That Attuma guy would need to drag me to hell and back before I would even agree to be anywhere near the water—no offense.”

“For someone that is well equipped with anything related to waters, you have fears?”

“It’s stupid.” You brushed off. “I almost drowned when I was a kid and now I just have this unreasonable fear of being in the waters.”

“But the waters are calm?” He craned his head in confusion. But then again, one of the many ways they would discard intruders were by drowning.

“The scariest part of the waters are what is at the bottom of the waters, what we have yet to discover for ourselves.”

“I can tell you now and it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“And I genuinely don’t doubt you on your words, but there are just some things I would rather die than to do.” You assured picking up your phone and standing back up. “It’s getting late and I still have to make some finishing touches to your machine I should head back. Thank you for accompanying me K'uk'ulkan.”

He could only nod, swallowing the disappointment of you leaving him now. He watched you slowly make your way back to the palace, using your phone as a torch to guide you back. In the distance, as he had watched your figure disappear he turned his attention back to the waters—Namora and Attuma already watching him, disapproval written on their features.

~

It took you just two hours of sleep before you found yourself back up on your feet, bathed, dressed in the most comfortable shirt you own and a pair of Levi’s jeans as you made your way back to the lab to make the finishing touches to the machine.

A beaming smile was now on your face as you began your work. There was this cathartic feeling of speaking your mind to Tony last night, how he had once again ignored your warning of not using your project yet and once again you find yourself being invited by the senate to speak for your involvement. It was so freeing to just cuss him out and warn him that you will not place yourself in any blame anymore.

It was also a little reliving to have someone to talk to—K'uk'ulkan. Even to this very hour as you were deep in your own work, you still wondered where the balls have come from to call him out as he watched you by the waters yet again. Forcing him to keep you company while you wonder what to do with your life now if you do eventually decide to leave Stark Industries for good.

“You’re up bright and early.” It was Shuri that had greeted you and making you look up from your thoughts. Besides her was Namora that already looked like she was in a bad mood—far from what was usually on her face.

“We’re throwing this into the water today so I want to make sure I don’t miss anything beforehand.”

“Today?” It was Namora that now sounded surprise, brows furrowed and her hand had held onto your spear far too cautiously for your own liking in the moment.

“We’re not gonna fix the tunnels today.” You reassured her. “I want to make sure that the water doesn’t leak through before we dive further down the waters.” You explained.

“And who will be heading down with this machine?”

You looked at Shuri and it was all the answer you needed to give as she already knew her way around the tunnels and any obstacles that might happen could be handled by anyone of the people of Talokanil that would also be joining in fixing the problem.

“What about you? This is your creation should you not be the one to lead in the operation.” She spoke further which genuinely made you unnerved by her sudden change in attitude—towards you.

“I can’t. It’s for personal reasons and I trust the Princess to be able to handle this on my behalf.”

You heard grumbling in her mother tongue, some of which was hurtful towards you but you chose to ignore not wanting to further her already growing temper. You instead focused on continuing on with your work. Fingers tapping away at the computer and humming to yourself as you tried to distract yourself from the ever growing tension that suddenly fell in the laboratory.

You know you will succeed in your machine, but it doesn’t mean you weren’t worried for the outcome should it fail. Was it death or failure and disappointment that made you more scared?

#k'uk'ulkan x reader #K'uk'ulkan x filipino!reader #K'uk'ulkan smut #K'uk'ulkan series #K'uk'ulkan oneshot #K'uk'ulkan oneshots #K'uk'ulkan angst #K'uk'ulkan fluff #K'uk'ulkan imagines #K'uk'ulkan imagine #namor x reader #namor x filipino!reader #namor smut #namor series #namor oneshot #namor oneshots #namor angst #namor fluff #namor imagines

[1989stanz]

Karaoke at Xander's birthday

Sooo, this one been sitting in my drafts and I've been thinking if it's good enough for me to post. My immediate answer was “no”, but I kind of liked this one. A quick remainder: the year was 2009 and I just put songs that were trending at the time or were made before 2009. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: mentions of Nash Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne and minor cursing. The characters are not mine! They belong to Jennifer Lynn Barnes.

English is not my first language! Sorry if there's any mistakes.

Word count: 10K (it's acceptable, isn't it?)

December 17th, 13 years ago

It was December at Hawthorne House, which meant two things: Christmas and Xander birthday party. It was always the most busy month in the house—with employees walking around the mansion, carrying balloons, boards full of the most expensive foods, Christmas lights, and the decorations for the trees. Overall, it was the mess that came along with Alexander's birthday mixed with the mess that came with Christmas. Xander liked this time of the year, not just because it was his birthday and his favorite holiday in one month together. And definitely not because he used to make jokes that the employees looked like robots, focused on nothing else but doing what they were programmed to do. December was usually when Skye arrived, just to spend the holiday and go back by new year. She wasn't really present in her son's life, at least not in the way other mothers were, but she was there in December. She typically arrived on the 17th. In other words, in the day of Xander's birthday. That's why 5-year-old Xander was sitting in front of the library window. Three hours ago he got expelled from the kitchen because he would just sit there without any movement, waiting for Skye, and Nash found it depressing to see his youngest brother this way. Nash knew that it was very likely that she wouldn't show up, so he just expelled him from the kitchen, expecting that he would forget it. But Xander was a Hawthorne, wherefore he just found another window that led directly to the front door, where Skye was about to show up. At any second. But why was she taking so long? The house was already decorated for his anniversary, still, he chose to wait for his mother to start celebrating. Consequently, he waited. Waited. And waited. Waited a little more. And when he got tired of waiting, he just forced himself to wait even more. But there was no possibility she was about to show up. He looked up, glancing at the clock. 10:00 pm. He was looking at the window since 9:00 am, but he didn't catch a glimpse of Skye. “She's not going to show up” Xander thought, and hated himself for thinking it. Of course she was, she was his mother. That's what she's supposed to do. “She's not coming”, this time tears fell from his eyes to his cheeks, dropping and wetting the carpet. There was only one in the beginning, but quickly there were more than he could count. More than he could contain. So he just let them fall, without fighting. Skye had failed him—she should've been there. She should be wishing happy birthday to him, with a bright smile on her face. She should've had seen him blowing out the candles of his cake. Not only that, but she should kiss him in the forehead and ask, “What did you wish for, Xan?”. That's what she had always done, and he could practically hear himself answering his mother, “I cannot tell you! It will ruin my wish.” But his wishes were already ruined, because all he always wished was to Skye come back in his next birthday. He must have done something wrong in the last year—that would explain her absence. There is no way she missed her son's birthday on purpose. Crying, he held his head in his hands and just drowned in his misery, wondering what he did wrong to have such an absence mother when all his friends' mothers were all present—not only on their birthdays or in other special occasion. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him and fastly wiped his tears away, turning around to see who was coming. Jameson. “Hey, why are you crying? What happened?” At the age of seven years old, Jamie was already the biggest problem on the house, always mocking his brothers for anything. Sometimes, he made up scenarios just to mock them, like when he stole Grayson's clothes when he was taking a shower and mocked him for having a Disney princess towel. Yet, he knew when it was time to stop. Xander replied, “I'm not crying. My eyes are just sweating.” Jameson raised an eyebrow. “Eyes don't sweat.” 

“At least not yours” Xander said, except that his voice was shaky, his eyes tired, and some tears were dry in his face. Not to mention the headache that he had now. His brother sat down beside him, putting an arm around his youngest brother's neck. “So, why are your eyes sweating?” His tone was calm and gentle, also he didn't complain during the time that Xander took to reply. “She didn't come” he said weakly, his voice lower than a whisper. Jamie didn't have to ask who. She didn't show up for his birthday neither, but he pretended it didn't matter like he always did. “I know it hurts, but she won't be here for all your birthdays. She wasn't here for mine, but it's okay. You can still enjoy it. She'll be here soon.”

Sniffling, Xander acknowledged the elephant in the room, “Why she's rarely here?” Jameson arched his back, tense. He didn't know, and he didn't like to think about it—otherwise it would mean that she considered other things more important than her own children. “Maybe she's just busy. Why don't you spend some time with us?”  

Us as in Jameson, Nash, and Grayson. “I don't think I'm up to anything right now.” He stared at the ground, unable to even think straight. Jamie squeeze his shoulder, asking really quietly, “Not even karaoke?”

After a long time gathering himself, with Jameson telling him about that one time he put superglue on Nash's favorite cowboy hat, and he had to get a buzz cut after using it just to make Xander laugh through his misery, they knocked on their brothers' bedrooms. Nash and Grayson were both reluctant, but once they understood the whole situation, they just agreed profusely. Walking through the halls, they tried to not make too much noise to do not disturb the employees sleep. They had a really tiring day and needed rest. Once they arrived, Nash turned the lights on, revealing the karaoke equipment in the stage. Untouched. Brand new. Ready for the night. Jameson started to run to pick one of the microphones, but Nash grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hey, James, not today. It's Xander's birthday, he will choose the music. It's fair.” Jameson made a furious face at Nash. “Don't call me James. I hate it.” Nash tilted his head. “Then behave.” He looked at Xander, “It's your night, Xan. Choose whatever the hell you want to, and we'll sing it.” Xan. Skye started calling him this way because she wanted to have a different nickname for her son. It hurt to remember that. It almost hurt when he was called by Xan by his brothers, but somehow it didn't. “He's five. You're not supposed to say hell in front of him” Grayson complained, arms crossed over his chest.

“Don't worry, kid”, he side eyed Jamie, “someone taught him worse words than just hell.” It was true. Jameson one day selected all the cuss words in the dictionary, and ran up to Xander so they would found out what they meant. “So, what are we waiting for?” Xander asked, excited. “Let's see how noise we can make without getting kicked out of the house!”

Nash was the first one, and Xander meticulously considered the most unserious song for a cowboy like him to sing. Only one music popped on his head, and he put it in the karaoke machine with a devilish smile. “Nash,” he turned to his brother, “I think this one would fit you well.” Nash looked at the music author and raised an eyebrow at the name. “Taylor Swift? Who's her?” 

Xander was shocked, to say the least. “You never heard 'You belong with me'?” He asked, and Nash shook his head. Did he live under a cave? “Never heard about the woman, but I know this song.” Xander nodded. It wasn't as bad as it seemed. The intro started to play and Jameson already lost it when Nash did the phone signal with his hand. Grayson tried hard to not laugh, but he was cracking up in the bridge. Xander almost fell to the ground. He was dying of laughter. “Make him stop” Grayson said, taking spaces between the words. They all had to make spaces between the words because of how funny the scene was. Even Nash couldn't hold it anymore in the end of the song. “Give me an autograph, Nash. I'm your biggest fan!”, Xander yelled, and they all chuckled. “I love this song. I'll look up for the artist later.” Nash told Xander, and he was amused. “You'll love her work!” Nash smiled and glanced Grayson. “Definitely. But I guess someone's about to sing to us, isn't it, Gray?”

Gray had, technically speaking, a bass type of voice. In other words, his voice was so low it fit classic songs really well. In Xander's words, his voice fit Katy Perry perfectly. His older brother gave him a dangerous look when 'Hot n Cold' started to play. Jameson was pleased, to say the least. “Go, Grayson!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the walls of the room. They all got up to dance and make fun of Grayson. He, in the other hand, had an incredible voice, as expected. He'd spent hours and hours singing, trying to achieve the perfect tone and not missing one single note. If he did miss, he'd have to start over and over until it was carved on his mind. Nash was dancing some steps that seemed really bizarre, but exactly like how Xander thought a cowboy would dance in this situation. Jamie was rocking the non-dance-floor, and his youngest brother too. They all were laughing, for Gray's misery. When he was done, left the microphone and came to join his brothers. “Didn't know you are a fan of Katy. I could give you my vinyls!”, Xander said cheerfully. “You cannot”, Gray narrowed his eyes. Jamie passed by them, picking up the microphone. “Though I think that Gray would love your vinyls, Xan, It's my turn to show you how my voice is better than his”, he looked at Grayson, a challenge in his eyes. Xander altered his glance between them, excited. “So it's on?”, he didn't have to give other explanation. Gray analyzed the situation, pondering if he should agree or just kick his brother's ass for saying that he has a better voice. Slowly, he shook his head, “Bring the karaoke battle, little brother.”

The situation was: Grayson, with murder in his eyes, singing “Milkshake” with Jameson, who had a wide-eyed gaze. The tension was intense and Nash almost interrupted, but he didn't take it serious. It was impossible to take anything serious when his brothers were singing about milkshakes and yards. Grayson was shooting bullets at Jameson with his eyes, what made the scene even funnier. And Jamie answered each look with a Jameson Winchester Hawthorne type of smile—long, Machiavellian, twisted, and playful. Like he was not worried about the competition because he would win eventually. Gray just had a blank face, beside his eyes.

Once it ended, they looked at Xander. “So who's the winner?”, they asked at the same time. It was determined that he would decide who was the winner. Only if he thought there was one. Spinning and picking up the mic from Gray's hand, he calmly replied, “Myself.” 

“Yourself?” Jamie laughed. “You didn't even sing.” Choosing the music, he said “I'm about to,” He turned around, “but not only me.”

Tobias had bought four microphones and four mic stands for his grandsons, probably thinking that they were going to sing together at some point. The point never came naturally, but Xander saw the opportunity and took it. And the song of the night was “Just Dance.” Nash was sort of a country music fan, but when it came to Lady Gaga, he did not play. And Gray was having way too much fun for someone who claimed that “classic music is better than pop.” Dancing and singing, they didn't even bother to be in rhythm. But it was still beautiful, because it was real, natural, and imperfect. In fact, it was so perfectly imperfect. This moment—the happiness they felt and shared—would be remembered. At least, Xander will always remember how his brothers saved his birthday. He always “saved” them with his humor and genuine joy, but sometimes he needed to have moments like this in order to don't feel drained. Certainly, his brothers were more than happy to give these moments to him. Surely the whole house was awake because of the noise, but it wasn't a problem to them. Fortunately, nobody came to interrupt, leaving them to taste the magnificent and wonderful moment

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #fanfiction #fanfic

[jeonggukookies]

better || eight

summary: you finally talk to jimin at the charity ball

word count: 1859

genre: bestfriend!jimin, college!au, bestfriends to lovers!au - fluff/angst

For the first time in years, Christmas was something you were looking forward to, and everyone was surprised to see you participating in the off-key caroling of Christmas songs with everyone. Normally, you would watch everyone decorate the tree as you sneak into the kitchen, eating the Christmas theme cookies, leaving none for Santa. 

It was the first Christmas you would have with your father and Taehyung’s family ever since the passing of your mother. Though, your father still wanted to honor your mother, by hosting a charity ball on Christmas Eve, inviting everyone to spread Christmas cheer to each other. 

People were free to donate gifts that would be given to the children at the orphanage and hospitals, and there was money being raised through some local performances which included Hobi’s dancing, Joon’s rapping, Yoongi’s piano solo, Jeongguk’s boxing, Taehyung’s stand up comedy and more. Jin helped the caterers by baking the peppermint cookies and some truffles. You had invited all their friends and families, bringing everyone you knew.

“Are you not doing anything?" Jin asked, standing next to up as you went to the bar to order some water. Unlike everyone else who was wearing a regular suit, Jin was wearing a black tuxedo with a bowtie that had candy canes on it. “Are we going to see you sing?”

“God no.” You laughed, grabbing the water from the counter. “If I did, we would not make any money for the kids.” 

“I keep telling her that it is a shame that we do not get to hear her vocals tonight,” Taehyung joked, coming next to you. Your cousin was wearing a white suit with a glass of white wine in left his hand, trying to relax his nerves before his performance. His hair was slick back, looking like his father. 

“Hey,” Tiffany greeted with a fake smile, not letting her mouth snap into a straight light. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but did you guys invite Jimin?” 

The smile on your face quickly faded, thinking you would have more time before you would have to see your best friend again. 

“My parents might have because they obviously don’t know..” Taehyung’s voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, shrugging. “This is my first Christmas with my dad, and I am not going to let him or my feelings ruin that.” 

“Well, how are you feeling?” Tiffany asked, a concerned look all over her face. 

There were two words to describe everything happening all at once: confusing and overwhelming. 

For a couple weeks, you had been basically grieving over the loss of your best friend, thinking he did not love you back, and that this whole relationship was one-sided. You gave yourself the time and distance from Jimin just so you weren’t reminded how he rested his head on yours when he wrapped his arms around you. 

But after Jimin’s confession, there had been no time to process everything. It was the anniversary of your mother’s passing, and you were starting to rebuild a relationship with your father. You were distracted, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want to be alone in your thoughts, thinking about what you should do about the situation. “Fine.” 

“You’re fine?” Taehyung’s eyebrow quirked up. He knows that you don’t show emotions besides the times you had grieved over your mother. But honestly, your cousin knew that if you severed your friendship with Jimin, it would be as big of a loss. “That’s it?” 

You wanted to be fine. 

It should not be a problem that you and your best friend have feelings for each other. The story could simply end happily ever after at that point. But you couldn’t understand how the boy that watched your mom’s favorite movie with you every year, lied about his feelings. How could he lie to you, knowing how much pain it caused? Why couldn’t he just pick you from the beginning? Did you really go through his mind when he chose someone else? Why now? 

“Stop overthinking, you’re breaking your own heart,” Taehyung reminded you quietly, not letting anyone around you hear his comment. Even now at a complicated time, he was protecting your ego and taking care of you while being unbiased, and you were sure he did the same to Jimin. “Let’s get ready before the show starts.”

_____________

“Since it is running a little late, we are going to have Yoongi perform his sonatas. In the meantime, as we wrap up, we will be doing the gift exchange. Hopefully, you all drew and made your customized Christmas cards because those are important.” Your father laughs into the microphone as the audience gape at his announcement. “You all were given a number in the beginning, and you must find your missing match to exchange gifts and cards.”

“What number are you?” Tiffany asked, holding the number 57 in her right hand. In the background, you can hear Yoongi take a deep breath before starting, playing softly. “I hope it is not some loser like Jimin.”

“Tiffany!” You scolded, holding back a laugh. “You got to admit it that was funny,” Jin said causing Tiffany to nod her head in agreement. “I think Y/N’s Dad made sure our gifts and cards were going to be exchanged for the kids.”

“Where did you hear that?” Taehyung asked with a questionable look on his face, slightly raising one brow over the other. He looked down at his homemade card. It was a folded red paper with the front page having drawn an elf with green scribbly colored clothes with a text bubble with ‘Ho Ho Ho.’ Next to the elf, there was a poorly drawn old man which you assumed to be Santa, and the question, ‘Who are you calling a Ho?’ is above Santa’s red cap in a blue text bubble.

“You cannot give that to a kid.” You laughed and held up your simple white card to him that had a string of red and green Christmas ornaments with the text ‘Let’s hang at Christmas!’ 

“I think it will be fine,” he stated with a small look of worry on his face. “I have the number 5.” 

“I have the number 7,” Jin and Hobi said simultaneously, then exchanging looks of excitement. 

The two friends quickly exchanged boxes and cards, excited to see what had been inside the gift.

“Tae!” Taehyung’s younger sister screamed across the room loudly, letting everyone know who she was looking for. “Can you and Unnie look at the family group chat?!”

Looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung pulling out his phone from the right back pocket of his pants. He unlocked his phone, clicking on his latest text notification.

[mom]: text us your number

[dad]: 7

“Oh you have the same number as my dad,” Tae mentioned to Tiffany. “They’re in the back somewhere.”

[brother]: 95

[sister]: 23

Your cousin texted your numbers to your family members. Right away, your aunt sent a reply.

[mom]: oh y/n, jimin has the same number as you! he just told us a couple of minutes ago that he was going to find you two!!

“There’s no fucking way, right?” You weren’t sure who Taehyung was asking. “Dude, the world must be against you or something.”

Tiffany flicked Tae’s head, making him wince and look at Tiffany with a confused look. She gave him an angry death glare. With his voice shaking, he said, “You know, Cousin, we can switch numbers.”

“Let’s be real, your mom probably somehow told him that me and him have the same number already.” You sighed. “There’s no use.”

You forced a smile, walking away, wanting to find your father before you had to exchange gifts. With a quick glance at the ballroom, you couldn’t find your father in the crowd of people up and rushing to others, trying to find their gifts. You get on the tip of your heels to get a better look, not wanting to go through the crowd and be accidentally pushed.

Across the room, Jimin was there, holding a white box in his hands, already staring at you with his dark brown eyes. Your heart dropped a bit, wondering how was it possible that the two of you would always find each other in a room full of strangers and chaotic noise.

The music stopped playing, and you could finally hear your cousin calling out your name.

“Wait.” Tiffany abruptly said. You knew they were behind you, but you didn’t dare look back. Without looking, you knew Tiffany was holding Taehyung’s wrist back, already seeing what was happening. “It’s the eye sex conversation talk again.”

Jimin took the first move, taking steps forward to go to you, not taking his eyes off yours. He was looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered when the whole world was on fire. He was looking at you the way he always did, but more intensely.

When he’s finally in front of you, he released a sigh of relief, slightly giggling. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whispered, not believing what was happening.

“I asked your father for his permission, and now I just really need yours.” He handed the box in front of you. “Open it.”

Taking the lid off, there was a soft fleece blanket, a blanket patterned with the animals from the Lorax. You knew he was waiting for you to look back at him, but you stared down at the box. The words how, why, what, and oh wanted to come out, but no sound came out when you parted your lips.

“When I said ‘just not like that,’ it was first to Taehyung’s mom when we were watching the movie and you were sleeping underneath the blanket,” he explained. “I asked your father to get the same number as you, to show you that I don’t want it to be like that. I want to be with you any day watching your mom’s favorite movie under the soft blankets, reminding you that you aren’t alone and that your mother isn’t forgotten.”

You looked up back at him. Tears were forming in his alluring eyes. You hold back a smile, wanting to laugh at the irony. He was looking at you the same way you looked at him the day he decided not to study abroad.

“Hurting you was the worst thing I did.”

You stood there frozen, wanting to say something, but you knew your words would come out incoherent, barely intelligible.

“You don’t have to say anything.” But Jimin read you like his favorite book, knowing every single line, reciting them out loud, letting the words live in his head rent-free. “I understand the trees.” He paused. “If you had known it was going to be me, would you still have made that card so friend-zoney?”

And there, you wrapped your arms around him, knowing you would never lose him ever again.

Perhaps the heartbreak of losing your mom could not be healed with time, but with the love of your life. 

___ 

a/n: i finally graduated!!!!

#better #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #park jimin scenarios #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin imagine #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #bangtanwriters-net #park jimin

[alexanderlightweight]

hello

Wednesday prompt- elope

This was fun! Thanks anon

—

Alec can’t take another minute of this.

His mother and Izzy are arguing over the flower arrangements, like they deserve a say over what Magnus has already picked.

So he grabs his jacket and heads towards the new loft location. He doesn’t actually know the way, but the ring on his left ring finger guides him.

He lets himself in and sees Magnus fussing over a bouquet of flowers.

They look very much like the wedding centerpiece Magnus chose, the one his mother and sister callously discarded.

“I don’t think we should get married,” Alec says, shocked at himself and even more shocked at the stricken look on Magnus’ face. “At the institute! I don’t think we should get married at the Institute!”

Magnus deflates with a relieved sigh and a dramatic glare.

“Alexander, if you’re done giving me the shock of an immortal lifetime, come explain.” Magnus pats the cushion next to himself as he flops into the sofa.

Alec follows eagerly and cuddles up to him, catching Magnus’ hand so he can press kisses to each knuckle and then the wrist.

Magnus gives him a soft, adoring look and Alec sways in for a kiss and almost loses time.

And then Magnus is pulling back, setting a finger against Alec’s lips and shushing his protesting whine.

“My mom and Isabelle are acting like they get to pick what should be ours. I don’t care about anything but making you happy and they’re ruining that.”

Alec reaches out and cups Magnus’ face, “can we elope? Can we just get Catarina as a witness and your silent brother friend to create the bond? Anywhere you want, you can summon everything you’d like and I’ll wear whatever you want me to.”

And Magnus is staring at him like he can’t believe Alec exists.

“Is that okay?” Alec finds himself asking, worried he’s misunderstood something unsaid and then he’s being kissed.

Magnus is pulling him close and tasting him deeply and then he’s pulling away and Alec is trying to chase the feel of his lips.

“Sweetheart, we’ll get married now.”

—

Magnus sends two fire messages and magically creates two outfits that he fits around himself and Alexander.

Alec is wearing a gold filigree suit, the buttons and threading the same gold as Magnus’s eyes.

And Magnus wears a deep, shimmering abyss of blue. The color that all warlocks recognize as the color of the realms natural dominion and magic.

It’s a boon that Magnus’ natural magic is blue. It’s a sign that he’s favored by the very magic that holds their world together.

So Magnus dresses him and his beloved and summons a portal, tugging Alexander through.

They’re in a grotto. The pool of water still and lit by the full moon, the trees rustling in the cool wind as another portal opens and Cat and Jem arrive.

Magnus summons flower crowns and vanishes their shoes.

He tears a rift into space and pulls out a ribbon made of bloodmoon moth silk and Cat ties it around his and Alexander’s wrists.

Alexander doesn’t seem to notice anything but Magnus and he recites the words and spills his blood eagerly, reaching and sipping Magnus’ own as though it’s ambrosia.

The bond snaps into place and Magnus rushes forward, his biceps straining the confines of his shirt as he picks Alexander up and twirls him in a spin.

They kiss, Alexander leaning down from the several inches that Magnus is holding him up.

And Magnus knows that everything will be fine, he and Alexander will always stand together. United against the expectations of the world.

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #anon prompt #anon answered #words are a weapon and i do with them what i can #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #prompt fill #prompt fic #shadowhunters au #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

[kindred-sims]

Caleb had been left with much to reflect upon following his confession to Jo about his fears.

He’d never really given them much thought before, he wasn’t sure if ever really had if he were to be honest. For so long he’d buried away the memory of his father’s untimely death in the back of his mind, to where it couldn’t dare do him any harm. He’d done well to put it aside, to focus on taking care of the farm for all these years, so much so that he had never really gotten the chance to let himself fully process it.

Grief was a funny thing, he thought. It chose to leave you alone for the most part, but could come creeping back in at any moment without warning, leaving you feeling as if you were suffocating. Memories you thought long since packed away would flood your mind, and would haunt you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

This had been Caleb’s deal for years, and he didn’t think it’d affected him as much until his most recent birthday.

It felt wrong to him, that he was slowly becoming older than the man who had raised him. The man who’d always given all for his family, had taught him the important values in life and had done much in his short years to aid Caleb into becoming the honest man he was today. It was those same values that Caleb had wanted to instill in his own son, and he knew that in his own selfishness, had failed to see that he had been going about it the wrong way.

He couldn’t change who Henry was becoming, it was impossible and he realized that now, no matter how much he hoped the opposite.

The least he could do was try and make him understand.

One afternoon, when Henry had returned from school, Caleb had pulled him aside and asked him if he would like to go on a walk with him, as there was something he wanted to show him. Henry had been skeptical at first, thinking it to be a ploy to get him out in the fields, but he’d complied and the two had departed together.

It’d been a mostly quiet walk, as Caleb hadn’t really been sure what to say. He’d never been a man of many words, at least, not the big important ones. He knew his son was likely still cross with him for the argument, for the awful things he’d overheard, and he couldn’t exactly blame him for that. He just hoped that by doing what he was doing now, that he could make things right again.

“Where are we going, Papa?” He was brought back to reality by his son’s voice, glancing to see that familiar sense of curiosity sparkling his expression.

“Oh, so you thought to ask me just now, did you?” Caleb chuckled lightly, in spite of his troubled thoughts. “Well, Henry, you heard me before. There’s something very important that I’ve been meaning to show you, and I think today you’re finally ready to see it.”

“Yes, but what is it? I want to know!”

“In due time, son. We’re almost there, I promise.”

Henry huffed impatiently, but had said nothing else, and they continued on, not stopping until they’d reached the promised destination.

Two gravestones. Placed beneath a giant oak tree, the names Irving James Wakefield and Elizabeth Rose Wakefield engraved into them. Of course, one stone was more worn than the other, much as Caleb had tried to keep it tidy over the years. Admittedly he’d slacked on doing so lately, and could all but feel his mother’s presence nagging at him for it.

When was the last time he’d even been here, he had no idea. And he felt shame for it.

“These are your grandparents, Henry,” Caleb explained, as Henry said nothing, only staring long and hard.

“I figured it was high time you met them,” he continued. “See, they used to run the farm themselves, a long time ago. And when I was ‘round your age...well…”

Caleb paused, the words catching in his throat before he could speak them. He didn’t want to speak them, wanted so much to push them back away where they belonged, where they wouldn’t bother him.

But he needed to speak them. He had to.

“...your grandfather—my papa, got into a terrible accident one day, and was killed on his way coming home from town…”

Horrid memories flashed in front of him, visions of the neighbor who had found the accident approaching their front step, Mama fainting to the ground as soon as she’d been told. How he himself had run away to the fields, and had refused to come back inside, not even when night fell.

Shakily inhaling, he kept on.

“That left me to take care of the farm, and you know what that meant for me?”

Henry shook his head.

“It meant dropping out of school. It meant throwing my books away, and getting my hands dirty, because I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t let all the things my papa worked so hard for to go to waste.”

“But...what about school? Didn’t you miss it?”

“Honestly? No. It’d be a sin if I were to say otherwise,” Caleb admitted.“Oh sure, I missed my friends, and I miss the opportunities it could’ve given me, but I decided a long time ago there was no use in grieving what I couldn’t have. I learned to be content with my lot in life, and that I could live with the sacrifices if it meant I’d made my mama and papa proud.”

He turned to face Henry, kneeling to be level with him. A serious, gentle expression on his face.

“You see now, son, that I didn’t mean anything cruel by my words. They didn’t come from a place of anger, nor did they come from a place of hatred,” he said. “This farm, this land, is our home, Henry. It has been for at least three generations now, ever since your great-great grandfather set foot on it a long time ago. When I see you shirking your responsibilities, it makes me worry you might grow to be careless, that you won’t put the same love and effort into this place that we Wakefields have been doing for a long time now. And—and I’m not trying to say that your mother wasn’t right, that you don’t deserve a chance to go out and have fun, I just want to know that you’ll give just as much care to your chores. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I...think I do, Papa…”

“Good. That’s good. And while we’re at it, I should let you go ahead and know – I’m perfectly alright if you want to go off and play with your new friend...what was her name, Millicent? Your mama already told me all about her and how nice of a girl she is, so I won’t stand in your way if you want to spend time with her.”

“Really? You mean that?” Henry’s eyes lit up, making Caleb’s heart swell. Such earnestness, such eagerness reminding him of himself at that age. Perhaps he and Henry did have some things in common after all.

“’Course I do. But it does come with its regulations, you know. I don’t want to be coming home to find your chores unfinished anymore, you hear? Anything I tell you to do, you get done, and then you can go spend time with your friend—or you could even read your books, if that’s what you wanted. Does that sound fine to you?”

“Yes sir! I’ll do my best, I swear I will,” Henry was beaming now. He threw his arms around Caleb in a hug, and Caleb was glad to return it, as the heavy clouds that had been gathering in his mind for the past few days slowly began to dissipate.

#sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 history #ts4 historical #decades challenge #wakefield legacy #1890s

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Hiii can I get a 47. “Trust me.” from the Angst/fluff Prompt List with Aiden/Lambert? Ty! 💖

You most certainly can!!

47 - "Trust me" Lambert isn't used to being anyone's favourite and is, in true emotionally constipated Wolf style, super mature about it.

Lambert was never anyone’s favourite. Geralt was once again The Golden Boy thanks to his bard’s songs; Geralt himself had his sorceress who only had to click her fingers for him to come running and Lambert knew that Vesemir favoured Eskel, however much the old man tried to hide it. It was fine, honestly. If anything his life both before and after he was claimed by the Witchers had proven that being the centre of anyone’s attention only led to trouble and pain.

And then Aiden had happened. Aiden, who would give Lambert his full attention when he was speaking, no matter whether he was ranting about something inconsequential or telling a particularly funny anecdote. Aiden, who had surprised him with a bag of candied nuts and a casual “You said once that they were your favourites.” Just because ( fuck, even his brothers would forget that small fact and he’d grown up with them). Aiden, who would see to Lambert’s swords and armour if Lambert was ever too exhausted or too injured to do it himself (although to be fair, he’d returned the favour a few times with that one).

Aiden, who had thrown him for a loop by being the first person in his entire adult life who wanted to know about him. Not his ‘famous’ brother, not Lambert The Witcher, just... Lambert.

He found himself unexpectedly sympathising with Geralt about his bard as he waited for the other shoe to drop - no wonder Geralt was constantly trying to chase him away! How long before Aiden got bored, before he decided Lambert wasn’t actually worth knowing?

And so, he’d done what Vesemir had tried to encourage him to do since he was wet behind the ears – he’d taken a leaf out of his older brothers book.

At first Aiden was gracious enough to not push Lambert on his sudden, constant surliness, just reassuring him that he was there if Lambert ever decided to talk about whatever was bothering him. The Cat had been more persistent than Lambert had given him credit for (causing him to once again sympathise with Geralt about stubborn traveling companions), however, after weeks of this Aiden’s reassurance had finally turned to annoyance, which Lambert had latched onto like a leech and had resulted in a shouting match in the middle of the woods with language that would have gotten them thrown out of any respectable Inn. After several insults towards each others mothers and respective Schools, things finally came to a head.

“Just fuck off, Aiden!” Lambert yelled, jabbing a finger towards the surrounding trees.

“Oh believe me, I’ll be glad to see the back of you at this point but first you’re going to tell me what I did to piss you off!”

“Fucking nothing!”

“Then why are you-“ Aiden gave a frustrated, bordering on dangerous snarl before tackling Lambert to the ground and having him pinned and immobile before Lambert even knew what was happening (fucking underhanded Cat training), “I’m not going to keep going in God’s damned circles about this and I’m tired of you acting like someone’s pissed in your porridge. Talk to me, damnit.” Aiden growled, visibly forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths from where he was perched on top of Lambert.

“Just fuck off, Aiden.” Lambert repeated with far less bite, “You’re going to leave anyway so may as well do it now.”

Aiden blinked, “What – what ? Why would I leave?”

“Because people only ever want my brothers.”

“Lambert-“

“It’s fine.” Lambert bit out, “I’m used to it.”

“Lambert,” Aiden shifted slightly to allow Lambert to sit up if he chose to, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t give two shits about your brothers. Frankly, I think Geralt could stand to be knocked down a peg or two. I much prefer you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

Aiden made it sound so simple...

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m not in the habit of traveling for weeks at a time with people I hate, Lambert. I want to be with you, I like being with you.”

Aiden stood, offering Lambert a hand, “Trust me.”

Lambert took hold and allowed Aiden to pull him up.

#the witcher #witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #laiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

[radiohead-spiderman]

Sirius Black character study I guess.

This is will follow canon to the best of my abilities however, screw you Joanne.

(Content warning, mentions of abuse, though vague, idk if I should add a cw but just in case)

Sirius’ childhood and home life; Contrary to popular belief, Sirius wasn’t heinously abused, in fact, we can assume that Walburga did love him, in her own way of course that’s not to say that she was a good mother, but it is something to keep in mind. His home life was bad, yes, but a common misconception I see in this fandom is that Sirius canonically got cruciatus cursed by his own mother, which is in fact not canon. Sirius had a terribly complicated relationship with his mother, he used all those spells on his room to keep it in that order and pristine, yet when he came back to his home years later, he chose to sleep in his parents bedroom. With Walburga’s painting, he tells them to move it, or cover it up, but he doesn’t tell them to destroy it. Sirius and Walburga had a terribly complex relationship, she wasn’t a good mother by any means, but she wasn’t an overly abusive cruel one.

Sirius’ running away and disownment; Another common misconception is that Sirius got disowned then ran away when it’s actually the opposite, he also did not leave because he was getting horrifically abused, that’s not to say his home life wasn’t awful, it was, but he left because of his parents pureblood beliefs and politics in general. Sirius did not get disowned before he ran away, it was after. We also have no proof that he was beaten the night he left, unlike some people try to point at.

Sirius and The Prank: Sirius did not tell Snape about the whomping willow for a good reason, he did not tell Snape about the tree out of fear of being blackmailed, or hurt, or anything else like that, the very simple and easy explanation for The Prank is that Sirius, was an idiotic teenage boy who did not think about the consequences of his actions, or the effects it would’ve had on both parties. I see the common, “oh Sirius would’ve been so lonely and sad and it’s so unfair how his friends isolated him”, when we can safely say that he did not feel remorseful for it, at all. In fact when he’s later talking about it in the shrieking shack, his exact words and justification are,

“It served him right,” he sneered. “Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to … hoping he could get us expelled …”

I could only see Sirius feeling even slightly remorseful for how it caused Remus to feel, but even then, I don’t imagine Remus would’ve brought the issue up all that much. (Which I will get into it you guys want to hear about that :D)

Sirius and arrogance; Sirius’ arrogance has a HUGE part to play in both the marauders and in James and Lily’s deaths, throughout the books we see Sirius and James as the main aggressors in their back and forth bullying with Snape(back and forth from both parties but still). With James and Lily’s death, it was James primarily but Sirius was mentioned that turned down Dumbledore’s offer for him to be the Potters’ secret keeper, insisting that Sirius was the right guy and that he could do it, however Sirius decided that nah that was too obvious, that they’d make “weak talentless” Peter the secret keeper, because no one would expect that, to make this plan even better, they then did not tell Dumbledore of this genius plan, nor Remus because Sirius was so convinced that Remus was the spy, that they just did not feel it was safe to tell him. That is what kept him in Azkaban for so long, theoretically he could’ve broken out anytime he damn pleased but, the guilt of being quite accidentally responsible for Lily and James’ deaths, that is what kept him in there.

Sirius and his loosened grip on his sanity; The man spent twelve years in Azkaban, his sanity definitely had declined by the time he left, we can in fact see this is certain choices that he makes and when he tells Harry “nice one, James”. He wasn’t the best father figure because he was still basically trapped in his twenty one year old mind. We can further point at grief and guilt as another reason for his sanity dwindling, as we know, he felt a good bit responsible for James and Lily’s deaths, add that on top of the grief of losing two of the closest people to him, and bam, you have a guilt ridden twenty one year old to throw into what was basically hell for twelve years.

Anyways that’s the end of my ted talk, I love you Sirius Black.

#god Sirius is such an interesting character #if you guys want I can do this with Remus too #honestly recommend me a character and I’ll do it lol #idk if I’m supposed to tag this Sirius slander because istg it is not it’s just an inside look into Sirius’ character #this is NOT Sirius slander #I tried to make this as canon as possible #this is just how I perceive his character with canon to back it up #do not burn me at the stake y’all #semi Sirius black slander?? idk guys I promise it’s not slander #screw jkr #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #remus lupin #the most noble and ancient house of black #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa black #sirius black #sirius orion black #character study #I think #don’t be mean if you disagree with me #jily #wolfstar #though not mentioned all that much #I still love wolfstar though I promise #james potter #walburga black #walburga’s c- parenting #please don’t flop oh my god please

[mxtxfanatic]

I saw such a bad take on Jiang Cheng's character and I can't stop thinking about how terrible it is. "Jiang Cheng did nothing wrong....couldn't have handled things better because of his situation..."...something something. Why is it so hard for people to accept what's written in canon. MXTX wanted JC to be seen as an antagonist, she wanted him to be a terrible person it's so obvious from all the parallels between him and WWX's characters... A huge excuse when they try to paint him as a "sad, misunderstood uwu boy" is that he went through a lot and thought it was all wwx's fault. But so did Jiang Yanli, and she didn't have any of the reactions that Jiang Cheng did. SHE was the one who lost her husband, SHE also lost her parents the same way he did? I also reread some scenes recently...and his homophobia is so apparent especially in the scene where lwj and wwx visit his parents' shrine. ALSO, his excuse for thinking their dating is that he saw them hug under that tree??? AND HE FOLLOWED THEM TO SEE WHAT THEY'D DO AFTERWARDS😭😭😭

I'm just confused about what excuse they have that makes it so easy to overlook all the shitty things about him💀 (oh, they also seem to hate...wangxian? Like actively believe those two are annoying and that they're bad people. Which is kind of sad, since they're the main pairing of a...ROMANCE NOVEL. So I feel pretty bad for them for having to read a whole book about two characters they don't like) Just wanted to know your thoughts. JC is irredeemable in my eyes. He's not a bad guy but he is a very bad person. But maybe other people see something I don't😂

Somehow I missed this ask, but I found it right on time (after seeing some stan bullshit 🙄) . My thoughts on Jiang Cheng is that the book is very clear that he is a terrible leader, a terrible uncle, and a terrible brother (both martial and bio) who chose the path of his toxic, violent mother to pursue over his kind father. Anyone saying otherwise is not worth engaging.

People don’t see something you don’t about his character, anon; people are choosing to unsee the things in canon because they’ve imprinted on a character that only exists in fan art, fanfic, and “incorrect quotes” memes. The disconnect isn’t a misunderstanding of the story but people uninvested in the original story wanting to impose their own uninspired fandom tropes onto an already cohesive story, and I simply do not have the energy to deal with that level of denial anymore with this fandom.

#mdzs asks #anon #yeah sorry about the late response #i legit was not seeing this ask #but also on jc being redeemable: #he’s irredeemable *to me* #but I don’t think he’s necessarily made so in the text #if by ‘redeemble’ you mean he cane change at least some of his ways #like i believe he can probably canonically be better to jin ling #but he will never be a person who doesn’t believe in murdering and torturing people weaker than him to vent his anger #as long as he can get away with it #he and wwx will never be on good terms again #he will continue to have no other amicable relationships in his life outside of his nephew

[unusual-raccoon]

Because it’s Mother’s Day, I’m using this holiday as an excuse to gift you a prompt 🌚 So stay with me…but what about a modern switched at birth jaceluke au?

Jace always imagined he’d be a fantastic older brother, he read stories about the legendary sibling relationships in his family’s history, but somehow he’s never clicked with his younger brother Vaegon. He thought it so strange considering Jace’s first memory ever was holding his brother in his arms and thinking everything right with the world. But it would seem their relationship would not blossom further than that moment. At first he thought the problem was with him but Joffrey’s birth erased those insecurities. It was cruel to think the fault of a nonexistent relationship rested solely with Vaegon, but Jace accepted that. And besides, it seemed that Vaegon preferred it that way, never having an interest in their younger brothers or Daemon’s daughters. But it would seem that everything would change when his younger brother was assigned a school project pertaining to DNA history.

In another part of the world, Luke always felt that something was missing from his life. His family was nice, but they were just that. He always burned too brightly for them, felt too deeply. Luke was like a different species next to their normality. He was haunted by the feeling that the space beside him should be occupied. Again, everything would change when hospital staff and lawyers started calling the house.

If you are up to it, maybe write the first JaceLuke interaction when Luke meets the fam?? Or maybe some sexxy angst once they actually get to know each other? Also, In this au Rhaenyra took one look at the switched baby and decided Lucerys was too pretty, so I chose to use the name of the lamest Targ in history (other than Aemond oc). Luke lucked out namewise in this one, but once the truth comes out he can’t help but start to use Lucerys. This au is so tasty because can you imagine both of them not trying to go feral and scare the other off? Jace not knowing how Luke will react to the history of their family while Luke doesn’t know the family secret and feels like a freak because his attraction? Also bc I can’t help myself: Corlys never made Vaegon heir cuz he’s a total loser; besides he’s been too busy to choose one ever since he’s been teaching a certain new intern the ropes. Even if you can’t write anything for this, you’re a gem 🌚

My darling 🌚 anon, you have no clue how with you I am. I’m so sorry for not being able to address all of your amazing asks with the consideration they deserve, my masters thesis is kicking my ass right now.

A treat for you, and for me (ficlet under the cut):

It had started with an assignment, a history project. It had seemed an innocent enough task. Typing the name Targaryen into one any run of the mill search engine would lead to results in the millions, chock full of tabloid articles and nonsense all bound up in the family name. If Vaegon really wanted to pull out the stops, he’d submit a sample to one of those ancestry sites, BOOM, goldmine.

Of course, Vaegon hadn’t seemed particularly thrilled by the prospect. Admittedly, Jace was a little more excited by the prospect of seeing their family’s historical tree span back generations.

So, when his brother waved the notion aside, claiming he’d just ask their mother for anything important enough to warrant including in his report, as if the whole of Targaryen history wasn’t worth it. Jace took matters into his own hands.

It had changed with results…and a little fork in their family tree. A pruned branch, as it were. In the place where Vaegon belonged, beside Jace, was something else. Someone else.

Name: Luke R.

Suggested relationship: full siblings

Known Relationship: Brother

Ancestral Surnames: Targaryen, Velaryon (Freehold, Valyria)

And there it was…his missing piece.

Jace stared at the website’s message function, at it’s washed out green interface. This was insane.

His cursor blinked in the empty text box. Mocking.

There was no photo attached to the profile. It could be a fluke. It could be nothing.

Jace pressed his thumb to the name on his phone screen, watched as his brother’s name was automatically highlighted. Copied it, and pasted it into Google. He scrolled mindlessly, possessed for what felt like hours.

Stumbled on a dating profile on a hookup app that Bells had downloaded for him. His mouth was dry.

The profile wasn’t under the name Luke, but Lucy.

He tapped on a profile picture, saw delicate features, dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin. He’d seen enough photos of his mom when she was younger to know the young man in the phots was her carbon copy.

Fuck.

His thumb slipped without meaning to. He liked the profile. Jace hissed, flooded with horror, mortification, panic-

It’s a Match!

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Luke, or Lucy, rather messaged first.

L: Heyy

Jace stared at the message and felt longing pull in his gut, worse than anything he’d ever known.

His reply is quick, hungry for more. His brain wired on a feedback loop at the chime of a notification.

J: Hi

The reply is quick.

L: chatty huh

J: sorry, lol. Wasn’t expecting to match w you.

L: really? Why’s that

J: you’re hot

L: LOL that’s pretty forward. And unless ur using someone else’s photo in ur profile pic, so are you.

His cock twitched.

J: just stating facts. And Thx lol.

J: are the tats in your gallery yours?

L: yea. r the abs in your gallery yours?

J: yeah.

L: 🥵

J: you’re funny.

L: and ur strangely humble for a guy that’s as good looking as ur pictures make you seem.

J: that a bad thing?

L: no, just trying to figure out where you came from lol

J: same place as you probably

L: I doubt it, lol.

J: I could be

L: ??

J: in the same place as you

J : if you wanted that

Jace wanted that, he wanted this his entire life.

L: oh yea? What would we do in the same place together?

J: whatever you want, Lucy

L: what if I wanted to do boring stuff? Like talk about history or sumthing?

J: joke’s on you, I love history. Kinda into the idea of you talking about history.

L: yea?

J: yeah

L: Hot and ur into history, def made in a lab.

J: LOL. Maybe I was made for you?

Maybe we were made for each other, he thinks. He thinks back to the results of his test - full siblings. Jace had always felt like oil and water with Vaegon, like they’d been cut from a different cloth.

Lucy had gone silent for a few minutes. Jace felt panic dig it’s roots into him. Desperate for a scrap of attention, affection, anything.

The chime of the next message hits like a narcotic.

L: I can multitask btw. We could talk about History AND do other stuff.

Jace’s hands are shaking as he replies.

J: anything in particular?

L: yea, in about six diff positions.

Jace ducked his head with a smile, cheeks throbbing with a blush.

J: is that so? Well, please educate me.

A stock photo of two men at a cafe rolled in, coffee cups that looked suspiciously empty situated before each of them. Jace couldn’t quite hide his smitten giggle.

L: it’s not the Kama sutra but I think we could pull it off

J: I might need to stretch first, but yeah, I’m down.

L: 🥰

J: lick a spot and we can try it for ourselves

J: *pick

L: didn’t mind the 1st one, LOL

L: but, yea, I’d like that.

He masturbates like a madman that night, frantic to the sight of tattooed, lily-white thighs in Lucy’s gallery. Imagines those pretty legs locked around his waist.

His guilt the following day isn’t enough to quash the quick flush of excitement that surges to his fingers (and cock) at the unique chime of a message on the app.

L: morning 😊

J: Good morning

L: it’s definitely better now

J: ☺️

J: rough night?

L: I had a dream about u…

J: I think I like where this is going

L: it was pretty morbid actually 😓. There was a fire, I don’t remember much, but I remember that. And u were there.

L: not like in the house btw. U were just there, next to me.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath. Harrenhal…Harwin’s lake house had burned down when they were young. Blood frothed hot in his veins.

L: … i’m sorry that was like the most unsexy dream to have abt a hot guy 😩.

L: omg wait I didn’t mean to make a pun 😨

L: …Jace?

J: do I have to burn something to be next to you now?

L: OMG, no!

L: I mean, did you still wanna be next to me after I had some weird ass dream with u in it?

J: YES

L: I’m free this weekend. Saturday. There’s a coffee shop near by, I’ve never been to it. No burning required.

J: it’ll be a first time for both of us then.

L: 🫣

L: it’s insane how bad I wanna kiss you

J: 😚😚

Fifteen minutes later, he’s sent an address.

They exchange flirty messages throughout the week leading up to the day they’re supposed to meet.

He gets to the coffee shop early. It’s cozy, warm, the air is fragrant. There’s a gentle buzz of conversation and hiss of coffee machines and milk frothers.

His phone pings and he nearly spills piping hot decaf all over his hand.

L: are u here yet?

J: yeah

L: lift up ur shirt so I know it’s u

J: lol! Sitting by the bookshelf

His heart stops when he sees him round the corner, like something out of a dream. Lily-white legs in microscopic cut-off shorts. Delicate fingers with chipped polish wrapped around a phone.

His eyes are dark, darker in person. Brown with a touch of amethyst. His eyes are Jace’s eyes. His heart is pounding fast.

“Lucy?” Jace calls, voice shaking. A timid smile parts on pink lips as he draws nearer. He’s stood before the intimate little corner booth Jace had picked out.

He’s tiny.

“Luke,” he corrects, “Lucy is…an online thing. Most people call me Luke.”

“Luke,” Jace repeats, and there it was. Easier than breathing. His missing piece.

#answered asks #🌚 anon #my writing #ficlet #jaceluke #jaceluke agenda