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kuamiru · 1 year

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The Golden Child Part IV

SAGAU & Impostor AU where the reader is the child of the actual creator.

Warnings: Blood, crying blood, mention of abduction and terrorism.

If you haven't read part 3 yet, you can find it here.

Please understand that I won't add new people to the taglist as it has become way too large now. I'm sorry if this causes any inconvenience.

The acting Grand Sage was having a very, very busy week.

With his resignation coming soon, he wanted to finish every document that needed his immediate attention; somehow, his shift was never enough to finish everything on time.

Piles of documents that never seemed to end. Countless people needed his help that went from the most mundane things to twisted crimes that needed the immediate intervention from the Matra. In any case, once he started his working hours, there was no time to waste.

So, that was why the presence of the man in front of him managed to irk him greatly. There was enough time to be a nuisance at home, why did Kaveh feel the need to come bother him at work?

"But I'm telling you!" The blonde exclaimed. "There's definitely something weird about it!"

He sighed. "Well then, did it look like that child was being held against their will?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then there's nothing I can do. The most I can offer is to send a Matra to investigate and/or interrogate that Lord. For all you know, they could simply be an Eremite's child."

Kaveh wanted to tell him that no, that wasn't the case, but in reality he didn't know that. There was just a feeling, a strange sensation that made him think that there must be something more about them. Kidnapped, an Eremite's child, the illegitimate Lord's child... No option sat well with him.

If Alhaitham saw that child, would he share Kaveh's thoughts?

Fuck it. If Alhaitham didn't want to help him, then he would investigate this matter himself.

Just as he was about to curse his roommate and storm away, the grand doors opened with a loud bang. Before seeing who intruded like that, they first heard the loud gasps and whispers of the scholars outside his office.

"Alhaitham!" The voice of a particular forest watcher resonated around the room. Both him and Kaveh were taken aback at the sight of the newcomers. They were bloody, beaten up, with bandages loosely covering certain areas of their bodies as if they only did it to stop the bleeding and not for properly treating the wounds. Collei was supporting both her weight and Tighnari's, as she was helping him stand and walk. "We need your help!"

The fact that Tighnari didn't refer to him as 'acting Grand Sage' denoted alarming urgency. He quickly rose from his seat and called for immediate medical help. Kaveh ran to his friend's side, gently removing him from Collei and letting him use his own body as support, earning a thankful glance from the girl. The wounds in his body started to bleed again, soaking the bandages and some of Kaveh's clothes in the process.

"What happened to you?!" The blonde asked in a panic.

Collei was still taking deep breaths, exhausted for having to carry her mentor all the way to Sumeru City. "The Ville! We were attacked!"

Alhaitham opened his eyes all the way thanks to his surprise. How come the Gandharva Ville had been attacked and he was only finding out now? By the look of the injuries, he guessed it must've happened yesterday.

"Wow, calm down! Breathe first." Kaveh said. "Explain what happened."

As the medic of the Akademiya arrived and started to treat Tighnari, Collei composed herself and started to explain everything from the beginning.

She told them about the child in the forest that was attacked by Eremites, with their family presumably dead by the Eremite's hands. How Tighnari heard them and immediately appeared to help the kid, safely escorting them to the Gandharva Ville so they could decide what to do next. She also explained how those mercenaries came back for revenge, attacking their Ville and abducting the child once every fighter was down.

Her words shocked the blonde. He looked at his roommate, half in disbelief that his own suspicions turned out to be true.

"You say they took them? Grabbed them and disappeared into the forest?"

"Yes, yes... I was knocked out and they managed to get to them...!" Collei cried. "You have to do something! Those Eremites killed their family and now have kidnapped them!"

The grand doors opened once again, and Tighnari and Kaveh both breathed a sigh of relief at the figure standing in the doorway.

The general Mahamatra had arrived.

"I heard there was a commotion here." Cyno spoke. Tighnari greeted him by saying his name, which made the newcomer turn his attention to him. When he laid his eyes upon the wounded fox hybrid and saw how beaten up he was, his blood boiled with deep rage. "What happened?"

Sensing danger from the short man, Alhaitham quickly composed himself and started to explain the situation. This didn't seem to help Cyno calm down. In fact, every word he spoke only served to fuel his anger.

"We must do something then. That child must be in danger." The general said. "We must rescue them. I'll also arrange for the other matras to track down and hunt those Eremites that raided the Ville."

Tighnari nodded. "Let's go."

"YOU won't go. The 'we' I was talking about is composed of Alhaitham, the Matra and I."

"What?!" Kaveh, Tighnari and Collei cried in unison.

"Regarding the seriousness of the situation, it's only natural that this matter is solved within members of the Matra and Akademiya." Alhaitham explained. "It could be extended to inhabitants of the Gandharva Ville, but the only thing they need now is a good doctor and a lot of rest."

"No way!" Tighnari shouted. "I have to get them back! I have to, I have to..."

His voice faded into intelligible mumbles, repeating again and again the same words. This was the first time Cyno had seen his best friend like this. What could have happened to make him act this way? Those damned Eremites... He would make sure they paid for what they've done.

Alhaitham and the grand general were quick to exit the office and start gathering people to accompany them to Alcazarzaray.

This matter had to be settled right now.

One of the people present also made his way to the exit, only that she did in the complete opposite way.

You were feeling very, very warm.

It was as if a giant marshmallow was enveloping you, gently offering a comfortable space to rest while you dozed off with a sense of security.

Suddenly, hand rested on your head, carefully caressing your hair in a loving manner. You opened your eyes, only to find a silhouette cradling you and watching you with hearts on their eyes.

"Keep sleeping, stardust." A soothing voice came out of their lips. "Once you wake, I won't get to hold you like this again."

The sadness in their tone made your heart ache. You gently raised your hand and rested it on their cheek, smiling when they wore a surprised expression.

"Tata..." You whispered. "Papa said they took you..."

You tried to keep smiling, you were seeing your parent again! But the thought of everything that happened only fueled the pain in your chest, making you let a sob out before starting to fully crying.

Your parent stopped the caressing to instead hug you tightly. Whispered sweet words in your ear. "You're too young for everything's that happening. How I wish I could still be hugging you in reality, and not just in this dream."

So this was a dream. Well, it didn't matter. This was the place your parent was, where you could touch them once again.

"Why did they do it...?" You could only ask between sobs.

You could hear your tata let a sigh. Both them and your father had tried to explain everything to you, at least the best they could to a little child. But maybe all you needed right now was the truth.

"I'm the one who created this world." They spoke. With a wave of their hand, something akin to stardust was born from it. It made you giggle a little. "And as such, I also wanted to live here as a mortal like everyone. Like your father, like you."

You looked into their eyes and saw all the love they had for you.

"I descended in a new body, with no powers and no memory. But the mortals and gods... Over time, they became obsessed with the idea of me. Of a being of pure love, power, and divinity. Being in a mortal body, I possessed none of that, so it was only natural that they thought I was an impostor trying to deceive them."

With each word, their tone became more and more solemn. "They... killed my body, so I now return to be a deity unapproachable by any of them. Any, except for you."

They kissed your nose gently.

"You are my child, my flesh and blood, and though I had a mortal body when you were conceived, my divinity still flows in you."

Their fingers brushed the cut in your arm, the one you got when you protected your father back in the Chasm. You averted your eyes from it. It only served to remind you what you lost that day.

"I want nothing more than destroy this world and the people in it for everything they've done to their own creator. But..."

Strangely enough, those words filled with hatred did not worry you in the slightest. Was it because it was your parent who said them? "But...?" You trailed on.

"But you and him still live here. And I do not wish for you both to feel anything remotely close to what I've experienced."

The hug enveloping you became a little tighter, as if your tata was trying to heal all their pain by embracing you.

It was a silent promise. One that said that as long as you both were alive, then the world would remain untouched.

"I miss you." You whispered, hiding your face in their chest.

"I miss you too, stardust. I hope you both live your life to the fullest before finally being reunited again. I love you."

You felt a warm and gentle kiss on your forehead and raised your head to see your parent one last time only to find a pillow resting above you, right where your tata had been. You let a sad sigh at the sight of an unknown bedroom and strange bed.

So, it really was just a dream. But it felt so real... you could still feel the tenderness of their touch and the tingle their lips left on your skin. How you missed your family...

Looking at the window in front of the bed, you noticed that the sun was already starting to set. It seemed that you fell asleep crying in your aunt's arms, how embarrassing. But to sleep all day? It really showed how your situation was exhausting your little body.

There was a small table at your right side with a plate of food on it. There was a note attached to it, with your name written on the upside. You took it and tried to read it, but the handwriting was very different from your parent's. You recognized some letters, but the words were pretty confusing.

Still, even if you couldn't read it, it left a warm feeling in your chest knowing that Dori cared enough to leave you some food and a little note for the moment you woke up.

With the piece of paper in your hand, you rushed to your backpack and took the stuffed animal from the inside, putting both items on the bed. They were your treasures now.

If only you had something from your father as well...

Opting to occupy your mind to not get sad, you tried to approach the table with the snack before a loud bang resonated around the entire palace. It seemed that someone was knocking on the front door, really hard.

As you tried to peek outside the room to see what was going on, you were surprised when Dori quickly came in and pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.

"Auntie? What's happening?" You asked with a slight tremble on your voice. Had trouble come again? Could those people from Liyue have finally found you?

"Ah, that? It's nothing. Probably the Matra trying to arrest me again for 'alleged' scams." She laugh, clearly unbothered by the whole situation. "What do you have there?"

You looked where she was pointing, right at your stuffed animal. "Oh! That's my favorite plush. Tata made it for me for my last birthday."

She smiled and picked it up in her hands. "Look at this cute thing! Handmade goods tend to sell pretty well."

Dori put the plush back where it was and turned to face you.

"Well, I see that you still haven't eaten. What do you say we have dinner together? The chef prepares the best dishes in all Teyvat!"

You giggled. "Okay!"

"Sweet! Then we—"

She stopped in the middle of the sentence as the sound of the main doors opening filled the mansion. This set her right on edge, as the butler had strict orders to not open the door to anybody, not even for the Matra or Grand Sage himself. She pressed herself to the door of the room to hear what was happening in the main hall.

"Aunt Dori?" You were confused by the sudden change of demeanor. You grabbed the stuffed animal and held it to your chest, trying to get some sense of comfort.

"Shh." She motioned for you to remain silent, so you did. Voices could be heard, and even the distressed wails of the butler resonated around the halls. Whatever was happening, it was undoubtedly bad.

Dori looked at you, which made you startle a little. "Did something happen back with the Eremites?" She asked.

"Um, well..." You trailed off, nervous. "Back in the forest, a boy from a place called Gandharva Ville found me first. He brought me back with him, and those mercenaries had to attack the city because of that misunderstanding."

She pushed her head back as the voices got louder, undoubtedly investigating the mansion in the search of something. Someone.

"Fuck, those idiots didn't even bother to tell me anything. No wonder even the Grand Sage is here." The woman mumbled under her breath. She sighed and looked back at you. "Change of plans. We have to hide, or else I'll be imprisoned for terrorism and kidnapping. Those are things I don't plan to add to my record. "

Oh no, was this your fault? Was now your aunt in trouble because you didn't go with the Eremites right away? First, the nice people in the Ville were attacked, and now Dori was going to be blamed for it.

"Quick! Let's go through the secret passage!"

She locked the door behind her and rushed to the bed, pushing it to separate the furniture from the wall. You quickly gathered the plush and the letter and put them in the backpack before helping Dori move the bed. There was a different color right where the headboard rested, and the merchant wasted no time in tearing the wallpaper to reveal a small door beneath.

The Matra was getting closer, so Dori was in a hurry to get you both out of the house. She motioned for you to go first, so you crossed the small passage while she stayed behind temporarily to move back the bed to where it was.

You found yourself back at the gardens, just at the back of the manor away from the people that were surrounding the perimeter. Nobody seemed to have spotted you yet, so you waited for Dori to crawl from the secret passage before running away.

"Stay low. These guys are the real deal here." She whispered before taking your hand in hers and guiding you through the less visible parts of the lot.

You were almost at the entrance of the forest when a member of the Matra spotted you two and quickly gave the signal to his associates.

"There! They're trying to escape using the southern exit!"

It wasn't long before the rest of the Matra started to mobilize in your direction. Dori opted to stop hiding and run as fast as you could, as a last attempt to lose the officials.

You almost managed to reach the edge of the forest when the ground rose in front of you, forming a pillar made of dirt and stones that blocked the path ahead.

"Stop! Lord Sangemah Bay, you are under arrest!"

Turning around, a member of the Matra with a Geo vision was the culprit of your dead end. He was concentrating on maintaining the pillar as the General Mahamatra made his way towards you. Dori put you behind her, which didn't really help to cover you as your heights were not so far away.

"Lord Sangemah Bay." Greeted Cyno, though his voice was filled with nothing but disdain. "I knew you were a scammer, but I'd have never thought of you a terrorist. Have anything to say about this?"

She furrowed her brows but otherwise remained silent. So, he instead looked at you.

"So this is the kid that made you even attack Gandharva Ville to capture. Who is this? Why are you keeping them?"

You wanted to answer him, but the hold Dori had on your hand suddenly felt tighter as if she was silently telling you to keep quiet. Cyno sighed, knowing that he would not get anything out of the pair.

"I see how it is. You both will have to come with the Matra then."

The breeze picked up strongly.

A powerful burst of wind almost knocked Cyno off his feet; he even had to summon his polearm and nail it to the ground to remain in his place. Dirt and leaves started floating from everywhere, and you had to cover your eyes to avoid hurting them.

Only when everything calmed down you ventured to open them once again. You were now facing the back of a small man, with black and green hair and light green tattoos in the visible skin in his arms.

You had a very, very bad feeling about this guy; for the clothing he bore told everyone present that he was foreign to their nation.

"I'm afraid I can't allow to take this child with you."

The stranged summoned his own weapon; a jade colored polearm materialized in his hand as he took a more defensive stance.

"I know you." Cyno spoke. He regained his balance and also held his spear in his hands. "Liyue seems to be pretty far away from here, don't you think?"

Liyue.

This man was here to take you back. Because you were your parent's child, wasn't it? They wanted the child born from the divinity they were obsessed with.

Oh no, no, no, no...

You took one step backward but instantly froze when the boy turned his head to look at you the moment your foot touched the ground. His golden eyes bore right into yours, as if he was nothing more than a predator waiting for the best chance to strike.

However, he promptly returned his attention to the general when he saw that you were no longer moving.

"Heed my words, for this is the only warning I'll offer, mortal. Forget everything about this child, for they are now under the eternal custody of Liyue and the Geo Archon."

Cyno frowned. He still didn't understand the situation that well, but something about you was so special that even the Rex Lapis himself was sending his own acolytes to fetch them. Now, the attack on the Ville made more sense.

He didn't know who you could possibly be, but from the looks of it, you were terrified at the sight of the adeptus. Was this another kidnapping? For a god to step so low...

If anything, he only knew that you didn't want to go with him. So, you should stay here. Right where the Matra could protect you.

He took one step in the adeptus' direction, but the same strong wind from before returned and threatened to send him flying. He could only discern a green stream quickly making his way to where you were standing before vanishing, with the wind closely behind.

When he was able to get the dirt out of his eyes, only the sight of his fellow matra remained. Xiao was gone; you were too. He didn't see the Lord either, but he stopped paying them attention early on. Maybe they took this chance to escape the Matra and avoid any questioning.

His coworkers were quick to offer a hand; two of them helped him stand while the rest immediately started a search party for both Dori and the missing child.

Liyue, huh?

He had to report this to the acting Grand Sage.

There is no justice in letting a handful of people have his way with a kid. He would rescue them, even if he had to cross the whole land to get there.

"Isn't the weather beautiful today?"

The Fatui soldier didn't voice her answer, only nodded to maintain her silence. She had her head hanging low, for she was paying respect to the man in front of her.

You had to be always careful when in the presence of Dottore, after all.

"A little bird told me something funny today." His deep tone made chills run down her spine. His silhouette in front of the window gave an ominous feeling, the weather displaying a colorful battle of blue, purple, and yellow thanks to the storm outside. "It appears that the Creator themself descended a few years ago!"

"H-huh?!" She could not help the gasp of surprise that left her mouth but quickly returned to her position of submission when the mad man turned to see her.

Instead of getting angry, he smiled creepily. "Just as you hear. Our Divine Grace finally returned to this world, only that they did in a mortal body. That impostor that every soul on Teyvat made their goal to catch? It turned out to be the real and mighty Overlord!"

The Fatui raised her head in disbelief, watching him as he laughed like a maniac.

"But Liyue was the lucky winner; they managed to grab them and display their headless body for every habitant to see!" He took one step closer to the glass, smiling every time lightning illuminated the scenery. "It's just now that the other nations are finding this out... Inazuma might've been the first, as the only thing covering the skies are the mournful thunder and lightning from the lady that holds their power. Ah, she truly must feel like her heart is being ripped out at these news!"

As if agreeing with him, the sky roared a few times.

"She can grieve all she wants. Morax could've been the executioner, but the rest of them also raised their weapons and didn't hesitate to hurt the Divine One even when they claimed innocence asked for mercy."

She didn't know what to say. Was this true? Their almighty god, their benevolent and loving one... Had already descended and was killed because people simply didn't believe it?

"This is going to be fun." Dottore hummed. "I almost can't wait for when the other archons discover what transpired. Will they unleash their fury and sorrow upon Liyue? Hehe, I sure hope this storm marks the beginning of the end."

He turned around and started to exit the room, but not before giving the soldier under him his last command.

"Wait for the next ship to Snezhnaya to deliver a letter. Inform the Tsaritsa that even though her efforts to reach our Divine One to aid them were hindered by the other archons, this time we can all protect the most precious gift they've left for us."

She looked at him quizzically but made no comment to refuse him.

"That's right." He laughed. "We'll take care of them while the rest of the world crumbles and destroys itself..."

——————————

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1d1195 · 4 months

Text

Dolcezza IV

Read Dolcezza here

A little fluffy, a little angsty; hope you like it! :)

~8.6k words

“Who’s Harry? He’s cute,” she smiled excitedly.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “Harry’s a friend.”

“A cute friend,” she whispered peeking over at him still chatting with her father and sister.

Her face warmed and she shook her head. “Stop.”

“Don’t know many boys who would drive them home to their crazy family and spend the day baking and running errands.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Yes Mom, I know. I understand,” she listened to her mother at the other end of her phone. She piled her stuff in the back of her car and rubbed her forehead. Slamming the door shut, she continued listening to her mom ramble on and on. “I’ll be there in an hour and a half,” she assured her rolling her neck from side to side. A day off was rarely a day off for her. The peacefulness of her personal day was over. It was onto the chaotic portion which would no doubt leave her feeling unrested and anxious.

Thinking about her book, she heard her mom’s continued chatter. Her complaints of how no one helped her around the house and “did I tell you about who I ran into at the grocery store?”

“Mom! I have to go!” She longed for the book she was reading only an hour prior. Thought about the deep breathing from the online yoga class she followed from YouTube only two hours prior. Ending the call, she sighed heavily again, squared her shoulders, and fell into the driver’s seat.

With a frown, she looked at the empty restaurant, lights off, closed sign hanging in the window. She didn’t even get to see Harry before she left, and she really wanted to. Since Harry took care of her, she ached to see Harry more frequently but was trying to keep her distance so as not to overwhelm him. The last place she would ever want to see her stalker was at work (not to mention it would be worse since she mostly worked from home). For anyone, it was uncomfortable when someone was flirty and there was no escape (because it was their job to be there).

She should have just texted him. That’s what Harry gave her his number for right? To be friends?

To flirt, hopefully. She thought to herself.

But since he had given her number, she hadn’t been the first one to text. Call her ridiculous or playing hard to get. Part of her couldn’t believe someone as handsome and wonderful as Harry wanted to chat with her. She never wanted to bother him, and she imagined that if she started talking, she would never want to stop. Harry would need space and...

Well, it spiraled pretty quickly.

So, all their conversations over text had been through Harry sending the first message.

Since she helped that busy night a few months back, she made her way to the kitchen at least once a week. Antonio enjoyed her help and found her adorable and helpful in a way that he couldn’t find in many employees. “Don’t get me wrong tesorino, I love my employees. They’re family. But they’re also in high school and college and they don’t care nearly as much as I do about this place.” She overheard him tell Niall, “It’s nice to depend on her as a tenant, someone I can trust Leo with, and someone that cares for the restaurant like she’s worked here her whole life.”

It made her feel warm, and she loved helping. It had been nearly routine; working from home, going to the gym, running errands, eating eggplant and spaghetti, and smiling at Harry through the kitchen window. It was so nice to relax and be around people who liked her company. People who didn’t make her feel crazy like her family.

It was nice to relax and not worry about being followed for the first time in a really long time.

I could send a simple, “good morning, have a good day” text. She thought. It was harmless. She could do that.

Right?

Sighing, she decided against it. Maybe he was sleeping in. She tried to remember what day he had off that week but was coming up short. Maybe she would come say hello at the end of her long day if she wasn’t too exhausted. But it was unlikely that would be the case at the end of what would be a long, long day. There was always tomorrow.

Plus, if Harry ended up texting her back, she would probably crash her car to answer him. Shoving the key in the ignition, she was trying to be positive, but it was hard to do so when she was not going to see Harry and she was not looking forward to the rest of her day off.

The feeling was only amplified as her engine did not turn over. She groaned. “No, no, no…” she whined. She knew very little about cars. Every year she asked her parents to renew her AAA membership for her birthday. She was ever practical, and it was a huge joke among her extended family. It was something she hated paying for herself but wouldn’t be caught dead without.

Right when the car didn’t start, she should have just called AAA. But instead—maybe because she was already frustrated and anxious about dealing with her family—she got out of her car to look at the mechanical engineering, as if she even knew what she was doing. With her phone’s flashlight, she peered under the hood, like she would suddenly know what she was looking for. She readjusted the strap of her purse to keep it from falling into the greasy, mechanical things and getting disgusting. Always one to take the time to learn a new skill, her dad showed her how to change a battery, check her oil, and replace various things in her car once she got her license. She was praying the battery was somehow disconnected. Because even if she had called AAA right then and there, it would ruin her whole schedule. Her whole day. She would let her family down and that would...well that would be really bad for her psyche.

But at the heart of it, it really made no sense for her to look under the hood. The thought of seeing her family tended to wreak havoc on her mind and make her do things like this.

A gust of wind made it’s way down the road. It blew her hair in her face and as she tried to blow it back out of her mouth, she heard the thunk of her car door closing. She bounced at the sound because it scared her. Making her hit her head on the open hood. “FUCK!” She hissed, rubbing the sore spot. She hurried to look at the door that had betrayed her. “No, no, no,” she whined reaching for the handle, but her gut already told her it was too late.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” she groaned rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. After thirty seconds of silence and utter disbelief, she began smacking the window with the open palms of her hands repeatedly. She made grunting and grumpy noises and kicked the tire for good measure. “You stupid piece—!” She hissed and continued to beat up the inanimate object.

Harry saw her from his own car when he pulled into the parking space nearby. Niall looked up from the passenger seat while Harry checked to make sure he was safely and adequately in the spot.

“Oof, that doesn’t look too good,” Niall murmured, just as she began attacking her car.

Harry hurried to throw the car in park and get out of his vehicle.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushed seemingly from nowhere. He quickly raced to her, pulling her by the hips swiftly so there was small distance from her vehicle to keep her from hitting it and preventing her from self-injury. “Principessa,” his voice was so soothing. Even though she was livid and frustrated, she couldn’t help but feel like he was speaking directly into her soul, his voice warm and perfect.

The few times she ended up in Dolcezza’s kitchen, Harry was somehow kinder to her than when they were interacting elsewhere. His voice was gentle as he walked past her with a hot tray. “Behind y’principessa,” or “watch y’hands, kitten, this one’s hot.” Something of that nature. Even when it was busy as could be, he would gently place a hand on her lower back and walk by her making her stomach flutter.

Harry touching her and physically pulling her away from her vehicle, on top of that soothing warm voice, almost made her feel remorse for attacking her car. “The car is gonna win, every time, kitten.” His hands now gripped the top of her arms holding her in place even though she strained ever so slightly against his hold to return to her frustrated movements. Niall was close behind. He tried all her doors to see if they were unlocked. But no dice.

Her face crumpled and Harry thought he would cry if she did. “This is the worst day off in the history of days off,” she moaned.

Harry released the top of her arms, skimmed down the length of them and rotated her hands for injury. All the while she explained the awfulness of the last ten minutes, all the things she had to do and why she was upset that this was the time her car had chosen to break down. Niall frowned at her story, no doubt feeling bad for her, but Harry could see the delight in his eyes. “Well, tesorino, don’t count today out just yet. Harry also has the day off. I’m sure he would be happy to drive you to your mum’s,” he clapped Harry on the back of his shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on your car. Make sure they get your keys safely in my hands and your car to the dealership.”

Harry smirked awkwardly and coughed as Niall volunteered him. Of course, he would do it, but he knew that she would be upset.

It was evident by the way her skin pinked with the suggestion. The thought of Harry doing something kind for her without any return on his time investment? “No way,” she snorted almost bitterly. “This is an all-day expedition,” she shook her head. “I can’t ask you to give up your day off for me.”

This was great for Harry on fifty different levels, minimum. He would get to see her in her element, talk to her about a ton of stuff, meet her family, and see her hometown. There wasn’t a better day off to be had. Except she looked infuriated, and Harry wasn’t sure he was exempt from her frustration. She texted rapidly on her phone. “Could y’go another day, kitten?” Harry asked softly. She shook her head. Tears were definitely filling her eyes at the mere thought. “Okay, so let’s go,” Harry shrugged and walked toward his car. She frowned.

“You really... don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Harry,” she whispered so quietly, and he turned around as he held the passenger door open. Her heart nearly stopped. She forgot why she was so mad. She wasn’t sure anyone had held a door open for her like that. Ever. “It’s... a lot,” she told him.

He smiled looking back over his shoulder. “Then we better get moving.”

She stayed put and felt so utterly awful, but Harry was waiting. It felt wrong to keep him waiting. Especially when she could only imagine what the day would bring without him really knowing.

“Did you desperately need anything in your car?” Niall asked, trying the handle once more.

“Yeah, like all that baking stuff,” she rubbed her forehead not having any kind of backup plan for that scenario. Harry frowned and closed the door to the car and started for the restaurant. At least Harry could come up with a backup plan for her.

“Why are you bringing baking stuff?” Niall peered into the backseat to see a bag of groceries and three cupcake pans, ignoring Harry’s path to Dolcezza’s front door.

“Uhh…” she swallowed hard. Obviously, whatever the reason was not something she felt like sharing. At least not right then. Harry frowned.

“It doesn’t matter, Principessa, don’t worry. Ni, can y’help grab some stuff,” he said opening the door to the restaurant. In a matter of minutes, she had replaced the groceries and metal pans that she had brought from her apartment.

“Niall, can you give them to Antonio when you get the car open?” She asked her eyebrows pinched together in worry.

He nodded. “Course, tesorino,” he smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I would wait and ask Antonio for his key, get my spare car key, everything...but—”

“Principessa,” Harry said pressing a hand on her lower back making her feel like she might pass out. It took every ounce of restraint to not let the shiver threatening to roll through her body viciously for him and Niall to see her completely lose her mind over Harry’s touch. “S’okay. He’ll understand. Let’s go,” he smiled opening his car door again for her to sit in the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. Harry rolled down the window as he started his car.

“It’s what friends are for, tesorino,” Niall winked at her. She was only a half hour behind schedule. An easy comeback.

She nodded. Other than Eleanor and Louis, she wasn’t sure she knew what that was like. “Well, still,” she said softly. “I’ll make it up to you,” she promised.

Niall smiled gently at her and caught Harry’s gaze very briefly before he pulled away from the curb.

Once on the highway, she made a call to her sister, and explained the problem. At the same time, Harry called Niall and gave specific instructions not to let her keys out of his sight. Overcome, once more by the worry of someone stealing her keys and finding her apartment upstairs. Throwing that thought out of his mind, he told Niall that he had to pass the car one off to the tow truck driver and hold her other ones until they got back. He also left him in charge of making sure her car was properly taken care of, and he was to text Harry if there was an issue. She spent the first hour of the drive near silence. Instead, texting and scrolling on her phone. It didn’t upset Harry, but it did worry him. “Do y’need anything kitten? Wanna stop for coffee or...?”

She shook her head. “Maybe later,” she answered.

He nodded. “Alright.”

It very much seemed like she didn’t want to talk. But right as the GPS alerted her that they would arrive in half an hour she started to squirm ever so slightly.

“Y’okay, Principessa?”

She sighed and put her head in her hands. “My family is a lot,” she told him. “Like just chaotic and a little crazy; it’s embarrassing.”

He frowned. “Okay, I’m... I’m sorry that y’feel embarrassed. But... every family has something, y’know?” His voice was gentle and quiet. Encouraging. “M’not going t’like... say anything.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she looked at her lap, inspecting her fingertips.

“Plus, if... if you came from them... they’re already the most wonderful people I’ll ever meet,” he shrugged as if that wasn’t the sweetest, kindest thing she’d ever heard. He didn’t get a good look because he didn’t want to take his eyes off the road, but he hoped her cheeks were that pretty pink color.

“They’re good people...but...” she sighed.

“Kitten,” he reached over and put his hand on her squirming fingers. He gave them a reassuring squeeze. “S’okay. I promise,” he whispered.

She took a deep breath and looked out the window. Harry glanced at her briefly. It was the safest he had ever driven in his life—and he was already a safe driver. But even though he was desperate to hold her hand the way he was right now; he couldn’t help but feel bad about removing his hand from the two-position. She was the most precious thing he had ever had in his car and wanted to keep her safe no matter what—even if he really wanted to keep holding her hand and assure her it would be alright.

She looked at Harry in her peripheral. “My sister is going to fall in love with you.”

He smirked. “M’a bit older than her, yeah?”

“She’s eighteen,” she sighed. “But we think she was born as a thirteen-year-old.”

“S’a bit young for me,” he winked. She squeezed his hand as she smiled softly. Harry wondered if she knew she did that but didn’t want to bring it to her attention.

“Also,” she took another deep breath. “They don’t... I’ve never told them about the person following me,” she mumbled. Harry very nearly stopped the car.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh?”

“They would...” she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t y’brother a dispatcher? Does he want t’be a police officer?”

“Yeah...but...” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Please don’t mention it, not that I think you would but—”

“Kitten,” he frowned. “S’a pretty big thing t’hide from your family.”

“Well,” she was skimming her thumb along the back of Harry’s hand, and he had never enjoyed hand holding so much in his whole life. “It would just worry them,” her voice was quiet. Like she wanted to tell them. Maybe she wanted them to worry about her. “I don’t... they don’t need to worry about me,” she mumbled. “It’s not a big deal, really. You know?”

It was. Every time Harry saw her, there was the smallest part of his brain thinking about how someone was so obsessed with her that he watched her every movement for over a year. So much so that she had to move. It wasn’t a way to live, and she didn’t see it as a problem. Didn’t see it as something that people who cared about her should worry about. Harry wanted to cry about how sweet she was. She deserved... everything.

“I won’t say anything, Principessa,” he squeezed her hand. She smiled.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me... someone that isn’t Eleanor or Louis,” she explained.

“Eleanor...” he followed the GPS’s directions to get off the highway. It wasn’t quite a city, but not a small town either. There were lots of stores and restaurants right off the exit and Harry stopped at the red light. “El mentioned y’had an ex-boyfriend—”

“Course she did,” she rolled her eyes.

Harry ignored her comment. “—he must’ve... helped.”

She shrugged. “Yeah... but...” she looked at how her hands were holding Harry’s. It was so warm and somehow more intimate than every kiss she had with her ex. It felt like holding Harry’s hand was holding a piece of his heart and she didn’t necessarily think it was as simple as that... but she really liked it. “He... he complained a lot,” she mumbled. “I told you my family is a lot, and they are. But... they’re good people and I love them so it’s...” she sighed. “It’s complicated. I shouldn’t have dated him for as long as I did. Eleanor was probably right to not like him. By the end of it... it was like we lived two separate lives. I just did what I wanted and he...” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“You deserved more,” he finished.

“Well...I don’t know about—”

“No, Principessa,” he interrupted, cutting her off. “S’not a negotiation. You deserved more,” he promised squeezing her hand. They turned off the main road. Harry let her contemplate his statement in silence and continued following the GPS.

Her neighborhood was quaint and looked like a great place to grow up. It was the type of neighborhood little ones probably loved to Trick or Treat in. The kind where you could go to a neighbor’s house and ask for a cup of sugar and chat for so long you forgot to finish baking. Harry wondered if people sang Christmas carols or had block parties. But her grip had stiffened around Harry’s hand, and he could see her physically steeling herself. Her shoulders stiffened, everything about her seemed to be almost defensive. “If it’s too much for you,” she said getting out of the car and grabbing the baking items out of the back seat, “you can leave... there’s a cute mall with shops and restaurants back toward the highway if you need time to get away. I wouldn’t... I won’t blame you,” she turned her attention to the house she grew up in and looked at the Christmas lights still hanging from the gutter, draped on the shrubs.

It was February, now. Her heart felt heavy.

Harry had gotten screamed at during culinary school four and a half out of five days of the week. She was the kindest sweetest soul on the planet. There was no way her family could be so bad that he would feel the need to leave. “Thank you, kitten. M’going t’be fine,” he winked at her taking the bag of supplies and the pans from her, so she had free hands to open the front door. With a deep breath, she turned the knob and stepped inside.

It was loud. That was the first thing Harry noticed. There was yelling from one room to the other. In her defense, it wasn’t angry. It was as if they didn’t want to leave their rooms. The smoke detector was going off and a clang of pans coming from the kitchen. “She’s here!” A voice shouted from somewhere upstairs. Harry glanced around quickly catching pictures of when she was younger. He hoped he had a chance to look at them again later.

Harry watched her as she took in the scene. The living room and dining room were a bit cluttered. But it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. She hoped after she told them a friend was driving because of her car situation that they would clean up a bit. Maybe they did, or maybe her sister finally found better lighting in her room to do her makeup and skincare routine each morning instead of the living room. She pulled the items from Harry’s hands so he could take his coat off. He did so silently, and quickly took the items back from her so she could do the same.

Obviously, the smoke detector and kitchen were her first stop. “Mom,” she said evenly as she walked into the kitchen. Harry followed behind. It was a little more cluttered. Especially considering they knew she was coming over to bake cupcakes.

“Hey sweetie!” The woman turned. Harry could see his future. The sweet girl would grow up to be a pretty mom just like the woman in front of him. “Oh hello; I thought Eleanor was driving you.”

Harry saw her entire body flinch then, somehow, stiffen more. “Eleanor moved, Mom. I told you that.” The smoke detector was still going off and it somehow wasn’t fazing any of them and Harry found that rather funny and cute. But he was surprised that her mom didn’t remember her best friend had moved.

“Silly me, must have forgot,” she laughed and shrugged. She turned and took Harry’s items once more and set them on the little space left on the kitchen island.

“This is Harry,” she gestured to him.

Harry held his hand out. “Nice to meet you. You have a lovely home.”

She grinned and Harry could see every facial feature of the sweet girl had come directly from her mother. It was almost uncanny. “Thank you, Harry. Thanks for driving her,” she smiled. “Emma, honey! what are we doing with the smoke detector?”

“Nothing? Why?” The female voice responded.

Harry watched the girl’s face drop with exhaustion. The poor thing. They hadn’t been there longer than two minutes. Her mom rolled her eyes. “Can you turn it off?”

“I don’t know how!”

“I got it!” A male voice answered.

There was a clatter and a thud, but the alarm stopped. She felt the ringing of it still in her ears. “Honey, your daughter is here,” her mom sang.

After a moment, her father stepped into the kitchen joining them. “Hey sweetie,” he smiled. He nodded at Harry and gave his daughter a hug. She returned the hug, the light in her eyes seemed dead making her look stoic and tired. “No Eleanor?”

She nodded. “No Eleanor,” she sighed.

“Eleanor moved,” her mom answered pulling a casserole dish out of the oven. It smelled delicious.

“Really?” her dad said in surprise.

“M’Harry,” he said holding his hand out again for him to shake next. She was watching her mother with her casserole dish, she quickly moved things off the counter, so she had room to set it down. It wasn’t the most unusual thing, but it was very obvious that she was used to anticipating her family’s every movement. Maybe that’s why it was so nice to work with her in the kitchen at Dolcezza.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“Emma’s bake sale,” she answered and began throwing used cooking utensils in the sink. She peeked into the dishwasher and noticed it was full. “Is this clean or dirty?” She asked.

“It’s clean. I asked Emma to empty it.”

“When?” she muttered under her breath looking at the stack of plates and dishes in the sink piling high enough that she thought she would have to run two loads while she was here. Harry was taking it all in, looking at the pictures on the fridge. “What’s she doing?”

“Who knows,” her mom smirked with an eyeroll. “Our princess is something else,” she explained to Harry with a smile.

Harry returned the smile but didn’t think Emma could be a princess. Not if she didn’t unload the dishwasher when she was asked. Nor if she knew how to handle a smoke detector. Harry got the sense that she was perhaps a bit spoiled—not through any fault of her own but ten years younger than her oldest sibling, she had to be waited on throughout her childhood.

Not to mention the only Prinicipessa in Harry’s life was the sweet girl he had spent an hour and a half with in the car. “Emma!” Her dad called.

“Coming!” She shouted and Harry heard a flutter of footfalls on the stairs coming from around the corner.

Her jaw dropped when she entered the kitchen. “You’re not Eleanor,” she said in surprise. Harry smirked. The poor girl looked ready to cry right there. Not one of them remembered. He wished he had her brother’s phone number just so he could warn him in advance. If he said Eleanor later Harry would lose it. He found it so unbearably sad, he thought she was going to cry. She flexed her jaw.

“Eleanor moved,” her dad explained.

“Huh,” she shrugged.

“M’Harry,” he said for the third time and held his hand out.

It seemed the genes she got from her mom were extremely strong. The three of them could have been mistaken for triplets. Her sister stared at him in surprise and nodded. “Emma,” she mumbled in surprise.

“Emma, can you empty the dishwasher since we have to make cupcakes and need space?” She asked.

Her sister rolled her eyes and Harry turned his attention again to the pictures on the fridge. Harry had his fair share of arguments with Gemma growing up. But he knew two sisters who argued could be on another level. “Did Mom ask you to ask me?”

Their mom opened her mouth, but she spoke before her mom uttered a syllable. “No Emma, but it’s courtesy to do what mom asks you to do, you know?”

“I was going to get to it after I finished my makeup.”

“Right because the dishes need you to be looking your best to get in the cabinet. Forget it. I’ll do it,” she sighed rubbing a hand on her forehead. “Why are the Christmas lights still up? I thought you were taking them down last week while James was home?” She wondered.

“James didn’t want to,” Emma shrugged. “Who cares? It’s pretty in the snow.”

She shared a look with her mom who once more looked so much like Harry’s sweet Principessa. She looked exhausted.

Oh.

Her mother’s genes were really strong. The exhaustion wasn’t something that just happened to her, it had been happening for longer than she had been alive.

“Alright,” she sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “I will...manage that too.”

“Sweetie, you don’t need to do everything,” her dad said.

She turned to him briefly with an irritated expression. One that said, by all means, you do whatever you want. But it stopped as quickly as it started. After her expression returned to neutral, she began to unload the dishwasher. Harry wanted to keep a mental list of things to mention to her while he was here. The first being the look she gave her dad.

“Why are you making cupcakes?” Her mom asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” she sighed in frustration. “The winter carnival is expecting them or something...” she rolled her eyes. To her sister’s defense, she used to always make them when she was in high school. A “secret” recipe of hers (even if it was by all accounts a pretty standard cupcake recipe). But it had been talked about since she graduated. She made them for her brother and every year someone’s sibling of someone she knew from high school knew her and would ask.

Unlike her sister, everyone else had the courtesy to ask months in advance. Not a week like Emma. “I thought you knew!” She had exclaimed when she told her about it. “You always make them!”

“You didn’t ask!”

“I didn’t know I had to!” Emma was nearly hyperventilating on the phone thinking that she wasn’t going to make them because she had waited too long. But that was too much to explain to her mom. It was expected of her, and she should have known that she needed to make cupcakes. How could she not?

Harry was chatting with her father. Inquiring about how they had met and so forth. If Harry was into sports or if he liked fishing. She hoped Harry wouldn’t let it slip why she moved. “We haven’t seen her new place,” her dad admitted.

“S’nice. Y’should come by. We’ll make y’a delicious dinner too at the restaurant,” Harry promised.

She continued glancing over while the dishes were put in the correct cabinet, and she reloaded items from the sink to the machine. “Why don’t you make her do things, Mom?” She asked tiredly. Emma was inserting herself into the conversation with Harry and her dad. Her mom helped by clearing off the counters as quickly as possible.

She shrugged. “You know how Emma is,” she said.

“Kick her out,” she knew it was dramatic, but maybe even a threat would be helpful.

“Sweetie,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know that’s not how I operate. I could never kick out the three of you.” Plus, if she did kick her out, she would end up right at her doorstep. Right outside Dolcezza. “Who’s Harry? He’s cute,” she smiled excitedly.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “Harry’s a friend.”

“A cute friend,” she whispered peeking over at him still chatting with her father and sister.

Her face warmed and she shook her head. “Stop.”

“Don’t know many boys who would drive them home to their crazy family and spend the day baking and running errands.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Once the kitchen was mostly cleared, she was certain her dad loved Harry. To be fair, it was pretty easy to fall in love with him. She had done it about a thousand times. Emma was starstruck. She eyed his tattoos and his muscular arms. Harry had the best smile and the nicest eyes. Emma was going to be a giggly mess.

“Alright, I made shepherd’s pie for when you finish baking and before you go see James. What did he say he needed that you had to come?” Her mom asked.

Harry turned his attention back, wondering as well. She hadn’t said anything about the reason for her brother and added it to the list in his mind for when they headed to his off-campus apartment. “Just haven’t seen him in a while,” she shrugged.

“Probably needs money,” Emma snorted.

Her mom looked at her. “Sweetheart, don’t you dare give your brother money.”

She rolled her eyes. “Better me than you,” she mumbled.

Harry was starting to understand why this was going to be a long day.

Everyone left the kitchen and she got to work getting bowls, preheating the oven and all the other things she needed in a flurry of activity.

“M’not much of a baker, kitten. S’gonna have t’be all you. But m’really good at taking direction,” he promised with a smile. “Jus’ tell me what t’do.”

It was the cutest thing ever to see her put an apron on that was decorated with flowers on the print. She rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and twisted her hair back out of her face. She was adorable. “You’re sure?” She asked.

“S’all you, Principessa.”

“Okay, I just work really quick because I have to do other things so—”

“Okay,” he interrupted with a nod and a deeper smile. One that made the dimple in his cheek poke through. It poked right through her heart. “S’fine. I can do that,” he assured her with a head nod.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said gratefully.

“Course, kitten. M’happy t’help you. You’ve been helping so much in the kitchen. S’least I can do,” he squeezed her upper arm as he gazed at her hoping she would just see how much Harry liked her. They worked quickly, stirring all kinds of batter. They were making three different cupcakes: chocolate, vanilla, and red velvet. Her recipe was easy to follow. He liked her extra touches that made it her own and he thought that he would have to tell Antonio to hire her full time just to make cupcakes. “How come y’not a baker?” Harry was pulling the cupcakes out of the tins so he could place more paper cupcake holders to dole out more batter. He lined the cupcakes on every available surface. He insisted on this job since as he kept telling her, his fingertips were immune to the hot temperatures of the cupcakes right out of the oven.

“It’s a nice little hobby,” she smiled. “I don’t think I have enough good stuff just to open a little shop and sell cupcakes.”

“Would y’want to?” He wondered.

She shook her head. “No...I like my job. I’m good at it.”

“M’sure you are jus’ good at everything y’do, kitten,” he chuckled.

She smiled and put her hand on Harry’s arm as she walked behind him. In between rounds of trays going in and out of the oven, she was working on the pile of dishes and the dishwasher. It was almost done, and he was impressed (but not surprised) by how efficiently she worked. They chatted more about her job—she was a finance manager for a big company in the city near Dolcezza. She enjoyed it; her coworkers were nice, and people valued her skill. Not that that surprised Harry in the slightest. She found it nice to work from home as long as she maintained specific working hours.

“That was the hardest adjustment about working at home. I was worried I would just work all the time.” He nodded understandingly enjoying the passion she had for everything she did. “I think maybe if I wasn’t doing this, I would want to teach people about finance,” she shrugged.

“Y’would teach bratty teenagers?” Harry asked in surprise with a smile.

“I’m pretty good with them,” she winked and jutted her chin toward the empty hallway coming off the kitchen indicating Emma, of course. Harry laughed and shook his head at her.

After more chit chat, there were about 130 cupcakes cooling and waiting to be frosted after a while. “Do you mind helping with the lights?” She asked quietly. The last batch of cupcakes just went in, and all the cleaning was almost done.

Harry turned to see her pink cheeks. It was hard for her to ask for help, Harry could see that. But it was really exciting for him to hear her ask. It was a huge step. Even if it was already implied that he would help her with whatever. “Course, Principessa,” he smiled. “M’happy to.”

“This has to be the worst day off in the history of the world for you.”

“I don’t know. Cupcakes and a pretty girl?” She dropped her gaze to the sink and Harry smiled at her shyness. “S’better than me jus’ sleeping the day away,” he smiled.

“Don’t you have... a date or something?” She wondered, looking as far away from Harry’s face as possible. She didn’t want to catch his expression in her peripheral. “It’s Friday. I imagine you only get a Friday off once in a while.”

He smirked with a shake of his head. She was oblivious.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to see it because of who she was. Harry adored her and that probably scared some part of her, even he could recognize that. “It rotates,” he agreed. “But... no. M’not really interested in dating anyone,” he told her.

“No?” She frowned before she could stop herself. Immediately, she regretted saying it. But was desperate to know the answer.

His heart sped. He wondered if the strong, rhythmic beating would break one of his ribs. Closing the oven, he turned to see her still working on the dishes. But after a near silent moment, he stopped her movements, grabbed her by the wrists and turned her around from the sink. Her hands dripped water on the floor, and he shifted her so that her back was to the counter. His hands pressed on either side of her hips against it, and he put a breath of space between them. “I’d make an exception for you,” he promised and scanned her face. Her eyelashes fluttered and she swallowed hard.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

“Always, Principessa,” he murmured and dropped his gaze to her lips.

Her brain got the better of her again, making her mouth speak before she could comprehend what she was about to say. Her breath was airy, her mind spinning with the scent of vanilla cupcakes and Harry’s shampoo filling her nose as he leaned toward her. “You’re really going to kiss me in my parents’ house? When it’s crazy, and I’m crazy, and they’re—”

Harry chuckled, bringing a hand to the side of her face, and brushing his thumb against her cheek. As hard as his heart was beating, it felt so suddenly slow. Like this was normal and what he was supposed to do. It didn’t need a crazy heartbeat. It was simply what he was supposed to do. He glanced briefly around to see if her family was nearby—he wouldn’t want to intentionally embarrass her. “Yeah, kitten. Guess I am,” he shrugged and leaned the final distance to press his lips solidly between hers.

The moment his lips touched her, she felt her knees soften. Like she was going to fall over. All the blood in her body rushed from her extremities to her heart. It made her feel weak all over. His lips were so soft, like little down pillows. They weren’t chapped at all like she thought they’d be. Her whole body felt a rush of warmth, like the oven was open and brushing hot air over her. Her lashes fluttered, making her eyes close and she wished she dried her hands because she wanted to hold onto him, but didn’t want to get his shirt wet when he had nothing else to wear.

She sighed deeply. It was so sweet. It made his chest ache with want; he wanted to be closer. Wanted to kiss her longer. Wanted to wrap her in his arms and never ever let her go. Harry had never kissed anyone that had sighed so softly like that while kissing him. It was so very her and it made him feel like he was going to melt into the floor. Her lips tasted like chocolate from when she tested the batter. His hand kept hold of the side of her face while he nipped and pecked at her lips. The other pressed against the counter, the length of his body pressed to hers, the only two things keeping him upright and not bringing them down to the kitchen floor.

He released her lips after a moment causing a beautiful breathy sigh to leave her lips. His gaze was so intense she felt it in her stomach. It couldn’t have been more than forty-five seconds of kissing, but he would have taken an hour, and it wouldn’t have been enough. She wiped a hand on her apron and then brought it to her mouth to touch her tingly lips.

Harry’s breath was a little shallow and she was grateful he sounded a little worse for wear only because she was worried, she was going to pass out right in the middle of the kitchen. “Thanks,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shaking his head. That was very much a her thing to say at a time like this. It made his stomach flutter with excitement. “Pleasure was all mine, Principessa,” he mumbled pressing a kiss to her forehead and gently squeezing the side of her face as he held her cheek.

They stood for a moment staring at each other like they had never seen each other before. As awful as her day was, and as frustrated as her family could make her feel, this was infinitely better than what she thought it would be.

“We should... take care of the lights,” she whispered. Not that she wanted to, but kissing Harry with three quarters of her family one room away did not seem ideal.

He nodded. “Okay,” he released her cheek making her regret her choice because she felt utterly cold. She shivered and Harry sighed as he stepped away from her. Right as she turned back for the sink, the water still running, Harry caught her wrist again and pulled her so quickly to him her heart skipped a beat. “One more,” he mumbled and brought their mouths back together just as quick as he pulled her toward him, she hardly had time to react. His tongue gently tracing the length of her lip making her sigh again and he thought he would surely explode from how much he liked her.

“Where are the boxes?” She asked as she put her coat on. Harry pulled her hair from getting trapped and smoothed it softly on the back of her jacket. He found about a hundred excuses to touch her in the last half hour while they waited for the cupcakes to finish and for her to finish cleaning. The kitchen looked better now that she had been in there.

“In the attic,” her sister said looking up from her phone briefly. She sighed, frustrated that her siblings hadn’t even gotten the boxes down last week. Harry followed her upstairs. In the little hall between all the doors leading to what he assumed were bedrooms and at least one bathroom, was the ceiling door for the attic.

She pulled the cord to bring down the ladder, the hinges of the door groaning.

“Sweetie, wait!” Her mom shouted suddenly. Harry yanked her so hard around her waist as the door opened widely. He pulled her back toward the empty half of the hallway, causing them to fall in a heap right as the ladder half fell, dangling, unhinged to half of the frame of the opening. She would have gotten a serious smack to the face had Harry not pulled her out of the way. She felt so warm in his arms. Even if her falling on top of him with her full weight could not have felt good. She could feel her face burning in embarrassment.

“Emma, are you fucking serious?!” She screamed. She scrambled to get to her feet. She helped Harry back to her feet. “Are you okay?” she asked nervously, her eyes looking him over quickly and her mom had reached the top of the steps. Her eyebrows pinched together. She looked so emotionally hurt. The poor thing.

Harry shook his head looking at the ladder and then at her, still worried she hurt herself. He definitely yanked her really hard, and he did his best to take the brunt of the fall, but that couldn’t have felt good. “M’fine, Principessa, are you alri—”

“How is that my fault?!” Emma shouted.

“You knew it was broken and didn’t tell me?!” She hurried down half the steps to yell at her sister.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” her mother said.

“It’s okay. We’re alri—”

“Is that why you two didn’t do the decorations?” She was seething. From the top of the steps Harry could see her shoulders heaving with each breath. “Are you serious?”

“What?!”

“The ladder almost hit Harry and I!”

“Kitten,” he started down the couple steps and he touched her shoulder gently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her mom asked.

“I was going to fix it tomorrow,” her dad called from another room.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Harry smiled gently at her mother wondering how she could be ignoring the screaming match.

“Why are you even dealing with the decorations, you came to bake cupcakes!”

“Emma you’re being a selfish brat, not once did you say thank you—”

“Principessa,” Harry’s voice was low, and he moved his hand to her lower back.

“You always make cupcakes!”

“—you do nothing but make messes that Mom has to clean up you could have at least put the decorations away!”

The screaming was reaching levels Harry hadn’t heard before. Especially not from his sweet, pretty angel. He worried about how her throat would feel from yelling so loud and of course the anger that was rippling through her made him worry she would shake so much she would fall down the steps.

“Sweetie,” her mom said pushing past Harry very gently. “It’s okay—”

“Mom, it’s not okay. She is a lazy, spoiled brat and you don’t—”

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to come over and act like you run everything! You act so high and mighty! We’ve been fine without you living here and bossing all of us around. Can’t you just relax for two seconds and stop being a bitch?!” Emma did not once get up to look at her sister during this conversation.

She finally stopped. Her breathing no longer heaving, she stopped shaking. She flexed her jaw. “The cupcakes need to cool. We’re going to see James and I’ll be back to frost them when we get back,” she snapped and headed down the steps.

“Sweetie,” her mom said softly.

“Dad,” she called stiffly.

Harry followed as quickly as he could.

“Yeah?” His voice was quiet.

“Can you bring the ladder inside that will reach the attic while I’m gone?” She asked.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he promised.

She walked right out the door and closed it behind her.

“I am so sorry, Harry,” her mom whispered.

“It’s alright. M’gonna make sure she’s alright. I have a sister,” he said encouragingly with a gentle smile. “I get it,” he shrugged. “We’ll be back,” he promised following after her.

They drove in silence to her brother’s apartment. Harry reached over and placed his hand on the top of her thigh, but she didn’t hold it the way she had when he drove earlier. She stared out the window the whole time. There wasn’t a word of discussion. Harry didn’t speak, he didn’t play music, just gently moved his index finger back and forth, trying to soothe her as much as possible from the small movement.

James was a half hour away from their house and when there was only ten minutes left of the drive, Harry cleared his throat. “That wasn’t nice of your sister,” he whispered.

“Can we do this later?” She answered.

He frowned. “Principessa.”

“Look, it was really bad and I’m so embarrassed that you saw that and heard that. I’m sad you gave up your day off to deal with my insane family. I feel bad you’re stuck with me for the remainder of the day so I would rather just have you tell me to leave you alone when we’re on the way home—”

Shaking his head quickly, Harry thought about pulling over because surely they had entered an alternate dimension. “Kitten, what on earth are y’talking about?”

“I don’t want to do this, Harry. I’m so close to crying, it’s not even funny.”

He was quiet for a full minute. “Y’don’t have t’be embarrassed around me, Principessa. M’not going anywhere. The only reason I wish we were on our way home is so I could walk y’upstairs and kiss y’outside your door for a lot longer than we did,” he squeezed her thigh gently.

Another silent minute. They were five minutes from James’ place. “Really?” She whispered.

He glanced at her. He could see her teary gaze. The one that broke his heart when she wasn’t feeling well. It broke his heart all over again. “Really, kitten,” he promised. “We can talk ‘bout it later. But y’family doesn’t make me like y’any less. Other than worrying ‘bout you, m’having a lot of fun,” he promised. “Got a new cupcake recipe, got to see cute baby pictures of you, and got to kiss you. So...this is pretty much the best day off I’ve had in years.”

Her heart felt splintered and broken by her sister’s mean words. She was certain Harry would hate her and wouldn’t want anything to do with her. “You still want to kiss me?” She asked.

“Always, Principessa,” he nodded. “I’d ‘ve kissed you the whole way here if it were possible,” he assured her.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I’d like that,” she admitted.

He chuckled, smiling happier than he felt the last twenty-eight minutes worrying about her. “I really, like you Principessa,” she turned that pretty pink that Harry liked so much. He could see it in his peripheral. “I don’t think you’re bossy or mean. I think you are the kindest, most caring person ‘ve ever met,” he put his car in park outside the apartment building the GPS directed him to. He cupped her face again and kissed her forehead. It felt perfect. Like Harry had kissed her a hundred times before. He peered into her eyes with the same look he had right before he kissed her in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I think... we have to wait,” she whispered her breath catching in her throat. She felt dizzy with his breath filling her senses. He frowned.

“Don’t want to kiss?” he asked worried she was still going to push him away.

“No... no...” she shook her head her breath uneven. “I do. I very much do. But I won’t...” she sighed nodding quickly. “I won’t want to stop. And I—”

Harry chuckled dropping his lips to press a line of kisses from one cheek to the other over the bridge of her nose. “S’okay, kitten. I’ve waited nearly nine months t’kiss you. Can wait a few more hours,” he promised.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #dolcezza

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

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hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!

Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).

So now here is some meandering advice:

Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.

Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.

Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"

I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)

Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.

Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.

It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).

Here is some less meandering advice:

Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.

Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.

Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.

Here's some very optimistic advice:

If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)

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mariii1 · 7 months

Text

( ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)(˘ ε˘ʃƪ) What's your sexuality (like)? 18+ (´ε｀ )♡

..........sooo i need to get out of the pattern of making time based promises, I've lied every damn time 😭😭 We'll see when the next pac will come out since im probably gonna do a lot more choices. Let me know if this resonated!

1. There might be something taboo you're holding back. You might not have delved a lot into your sexuality which isn't inherently bad but there might be a specific part you feel ashamed about. For some you this is about a fetish or your orientation for others its just shame that comes from purity culture/r@pe culture. To get rid of this is different for most, for a lot of you time and gaining more experience in life in general will help you feel more comfotable and for others you may need to take a more active role in getting rid of your conditioning. Y'all might be like me where your into our want to get into fetishgear like latex and maybe want to learn bondage but you may feel isolated in who to talk to and where to go. Getting past these anxious thoughts and actually doing your research is what's gonna help you, you might be procrastinating on this because of your own internal conflict.

2. Lord have mercy...You DO NOT want a romantic relationship or a family 😭😭 its coming through stroonnggly. I think some of y'all could be aro and don't know it. People might've told you you're cold hearted or weird for not wanting to date. For some this is toxic because you don't communicate that you don't want romance to people, which ya needa start if you don't. Yeah some of you in this group might have problems being honest either with yourself or other people. There may be pressure to fit in when there's no real harm if you don't, in this case at least. A lot of you don't believe in traditional relationships or just have no desire for romance. A lot of you are planning to be childless when you're older and if you're thinking about getting sterilized, it might be something to start thinking about seriously.

3. Oooohhh someone KNOWS fr what they want. You have this huge boundary and expectations of what you want and this couod for anything: hooking up, sex with a partner, casual dating, etc. Because of this though you might not have been in a relationship for a very long time. You're very headstrong about this and want a fair and equal relationship. I'm specifically getting a lot of femmes in this pile who are fed up with cis men. I don't have any other comments for you, you seem set in this mindset and if its working for you, great! 👍🏽

4. Me 😜 JK tbh i might be your type for some of y'all the same way I think Che Guevara is finee😩 I'm also getting hopeless romantic from this pile but ive never seen that stereotype as something positive and I feel like in this case you guys pine after people a lot but don't try to make any moves. I feel like you could have multiple crushes currently ir multiple ppl u got ur eye on but you haven't even said hi or anything to them yet. As a fellow introvert and someone who's just starting to try to make friends I get it, but it's time to get out of this mindset and just make the first move even if ppl don't like you or they don't turn out as great as you thought.

Rainbow divider @enchanthings

#pick a card #tarot #pick a pile #queer tarot #tarot reading #pac #love tarot reading #pride

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yanderu-deredere · 1 year

Text

bite.

★ what kind of girlfriend invites you to some bonfire in the middle of the forest only to leave you there? a shitty girlfriend, that's who. now, you're kind of buzzed and lost. thankfully, you spot a cabin. hopefully, the people there can help you out.

a/n: mom says it's my turn with the wolf pack!! here's another long thing but this time it's for the wolfie pack that ive been promising for a while now! hopefully it lives up to your guys expectations LOL i really love these yanderes and the werewolf lore i sprinkled in is my own brand of crazy

for those in disbelief, wondering how does this fit in my lil city. well, there's a forest at the outskirts of the city and i want there to be werewolves so there's werewolves!! got inspired by @not-a-bot-just-shy and their poly wolf pack so please check theirs out too!

while i was writing this, i decided that it got like really long so i decided to write a few more parts LOL im so sorry ive been slapping you guys with so many different chaptered stuff! but i hope itll be worth it!

part one (here) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (swallow.) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 3475 warning: bottom reader has male parts and pronouns, reader is implied to be attracted to both genders, reader may be under the influence of alcohol, reader may have a shitty girlfriend, yanderes may be under the influence of the moon? wild, polyamorous ending (all three with the reader)

You grumbled, pushing past branches and leaves as you stomped around the forest, angry at your girlfriend for basically ditching you. Well, not ditching you. But, she did invite you to this stupid bonfire only to force you to drink and then ignore you the entire night.

She was the kind of girlfriend who was super into the full moon, tarot cards and mystic readings so she thought it would be fun to run around half naked tonight, thinking maybe something witchy and magical would happen.

You thought it meant having a hot make out session in front of a sexy bonfire so, of course, when she begged you to come, you agreed.

You were unfortunately wrong.

She was probably with that stupid buff friend of hers, draping herself all over him. So what if you couldn't tell whether or not you were a 'Sagittarius rising' or whatever and he could? You couldn't help but be annoyed at the thought of the two of them having fun.

You wouldn't call it cheating but it was definitely something.

You had stormed out in anger, hoping your girlfriend would care enough to chase after you. Unfortunately, she didn't even care enough about you to do that.

Or, even worse, she didn't notice that you'd left at all.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and glanced at the time and battery. It was getting really late and your phone was almost dead. Damn. You didn't have any signal either so no hopes of calling someone for help.

Why were you so petty and dramatic anyway?

You heard a thump and your heart jumped into your throat. You looked around, scared as all hell, only to realise there was light in front of you.

You hurried forward, hoping to whatever higher power there was that it was civilization. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Fortunately, it was some sort of rustic looking house, large enough to fit a big family.

The thumping was from someone chopping some wood.

He looked buff, like a weightlifter with a little bit of pudge. He was a ways away from you but you could tell he was definitely taller than you, with the messiest ginger hair you had ever seen.

The stranger was wearing a tight worn down tank top and jeans which, honestly, he made look really good.

You hadn't even gotten close before the guy whacked his axe down, looking around the clearing like he was searching for something and, as if he'd heard you, his head snapped right to you.

You flinched but decided just coming out right then was less suspicious than hiding.

"Uhm! Hello!" You stepped forward, face and ears feeling a little hot from embarrassment "I'm really sorry to bother you but I'm like so lost and I just need directions--"

"You're not supposed to be here." He suddenly snapped and it made you take a step away from him, your eyes fluttering from one of his bulging muscles to the other.

If he wanted to snap you like a twig, he could easily do it.

"Right," you held your hands up as a sort of sign of surrender, "I totally get that but my friends-- We have a bonfire nearby-- Well, I don't really know how nearby-- I got lost--"

He seemed to see how frantic you got because he sighed and nodded, holding his hand out "C'mon, there's no way anyone would find their way through the forest at night."

"Stay the night and we'll drive you to Lovelock in the morning." He wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you got close enough though, from the tone in his voice, he didn't seem very happy.

"You can call me Mel. I live here with my partners, Leo and Sam." He guided you to the door and opened it for you "Sorry I'm a bit messy, was trying to cut wood for kindling."

"All good! Thanks for housing me. Sorry I'm being such a bother." You bowed your head a little, very apologetic since he seemed so inconvenienced.

Then, you didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system or if it was just from how good-looking the guy is but you suddenly felt the urge to lean against him and giggle "You know, I'm not entirely convinced this isn't some elaborate mirage."

"Mirage?" He looked understandably confused as he easily held up your body which practically draped itself on him.

You nodded, sighing almost dramatically "I was stuck in that forest for forever! I thought I'd never find my way! And I feel like super-sexy--mean-muscle-lumberjack is the exact fantasy my mind would conjure up."

He seemed to realise he was being a bit stand-offish or something (probably from the fact you described him as a mean muscle lumberjack) because his personality did a complete switch "Oh, ummm, I apologise. Sorry for being weird, my partners and I aren't really-- em, in the state for having guests--"

Just as the two of you finally made it through the front door, Mel definitely much more easily than you, the sound of someone else caught your attention.

"Melk--" Speak of the devil, a fluffy ashen haired head peaked out of one of the doorways leading further into the house, blue bespectacled glasses peering at you "Who's the twunk?"

You felt your cheeks grow warm. Twunk? You were definitely more hunk than twink. What even constituted as twink anyway? You doubted you were small or thin enough! In fact, if either of you were the twink, it would've been him, with his lithe model body!

He was like an exact opposite to Mel; where Mel was tanned and muscled, this stranger was pale, of average height and looked like he could shove you a little at most.

Differences aside, he both of them were absolutely handsome. It made you feel a little left out. Were you on some movie set?

"Leo, don't be rude. He's our guest." Mel placed both his broad palms on your shoulders, introducing you before giving you a little nudge forward "And this is ou-- umm, my partner, Leonard. He's a pain in the ass but he grows on you."

The little stumble in Mel's sentence went completely unnoticed to you but the sudden weird expression on Leonard's face didn't.

Still, you didn't want to be rude to someone who was putting up with you for a night so you smiled as sweetly as you could "Hi, really nice to meet you!"

It was obvious Leonard didn't think the same because his smile was obviously forced "Nice to meet you too!"

Then, he hurried off and you could hear his sock-clad feet thumping through the wooden floors of the house "Saaam!"

"I'm so sorry about him." Mel pulled you to him, your back against his chest, and leaned forward, apologetic expression on his face.

You just chalked it up to him being a really touchy person and smiled nervously, nodding "It's all good! It's totally understandable, I came out of nowhere, after all!"

That polite look on Mel's face vanished for a second, replaced with a look that was gone too fast for you to place. Thankfully, you didn't think you had to worry about it because Mel was helping you take off your shoes and leading you to the kitchen.

"You must be starving." He pulled out a chair for you "Let me heat something up for you."

"Handsome and polite..." You murmured, your hand rubbing at your aching and empty stomach before, a bit more loudly, you said: "No, I can't possibly ask you to feed me too!"

"It's really nothing, just pressing a few buttons on a microwave." Mel waved off your concerns, grin on his face as he did just that; sticking a glass tupperware container in the microwave and setting it to some arbitrary time.

You sighed and relented; mostly because you were definitely still hungry and buzzed from the alcohol. You wanted nothing more than food in your tummy.

As you were taking in the yummy smell of food heating in the microwave, there was the cacophony of hurried steps on wooden floor before Leonard and a man you didn't know appeared in a doorway.

He was also gorgeous. Goes to show that good looking people flocked together. He had black shaggy hair in a low pony and a noticeable scar on his upper lip but it didn't take away from his pretty face.

He even had two moles under his left eye which made him look even more beautiful (if that were even possible).

He was like a middle man; not exactly twink-ish like Leonard but not exactly buff like Mel. Definitely on the more muscular side, though. Definitely bigger. He could probably bend you in half, that was for sure.

"Leo said--" The man burst in before turning absolutely dark red in the face upon laying eyes on you, an almost inhuman whine leaving his lips "Hello."

"Hello." You grinned at him, finding his actions way more funny than weird "You must be Sam, right? Nice to meet you."

"Isamu. Y-You can call me Sam." He nodded, agreeing.

Then, to continue his train of weird actions, he bowed at the waist, still looking flustered, before scurrying away. Leonard snickered, looking especially mischevious before following after him.

"What's up with all of you and your partners looking supernaturally gorgeous?" You whispered conspiratorially to Mel.

Instead of asking, he just laughed, all deep and rumbly, like you'd said a particularly funny joke.

You pouted, unsure if you'd really said something that was worth laughing at that much.

"You were at a bonfire, you said?" Mel said instead, opening the microwave to pull the glass tupperware out, whatever food in it obviously steaming.

You nodded, excited at the prospect of food "Yeah, my girlfriend invited me but then she ditched me to go hang out with some buff guy."

"Jokes on her, I guess, I found an even buffer, hotter guy to hang out with instead." You grinned at him, looking quite like the cat that got the cream.

Mel just let out another smaller laugh, putting the tupperware container with a plastic spoon and fork in front of you.

You were a little awed by the fact that he could touch the hot glass but chalked it up to the fact that he was just really tough.

The food was just fried rice (which was honestly more fried vegetables than rice and it made you almost laugh) and what you guessed was grilled chicken with teriyaki sauce. Aside from the vegetables in the rice, there was also broccoli.

Thankfully, there was a lot of chicken so there wasn't too many vegetables.

"Make sure to eat your vegetables." He sat in front of you, looking like he was holding back a smirk.

You pouted at him but rolled your eyes and speared a small broccoli branch and put it in your mouth. Then, you made an exagerrated 'MMM' sound to show him how tasty you thought it was.

He laughed again but, this time, it sounded fake "Sorry, I always have to remind Leo to eat his vegetables. It becomes habit after awhile."

"Understandable." You gave a curt nod "I'm bad at eating healthy so I can relate to Leo."

"Well, you definitely won't be eating badly under my roof." Mel crossed his arms (which made his biceps absolutely bulge) before leaning back in his chair, an almost arrogant expression on his face.

"Good think I'll only be living one night under this roof, huh?" You joked back, thinking that was the right thing to say.

Instead of the laugh you expected, that strange expression was back on Mel's face. You stopped mid-bite, looking at him curiously, a worried expression on your face "Did I say something wrong?"

"No." The expression was gone quickly, like before, and his polite grin was back.

He sat up again, his arms uncrossing and his hand reaching over to cover yours on the table. You just grinned at him, confused by the gesture but figured, like you thought before, he was just a touchy guy.

"Sam, Leo, come here and hang out with our new guest!" Mel suddenly yelled, making you flinch a bit with how unnaturally loud his voice got.

"Sorry." His hand tightened around yours, apologetic expression on his face as his thumb rubbed comforting circles onto the side of your hand "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, just got surprised!" You waved off his concern as you smiled and shrugged his hand off so you could properly eat. You didn't want to admit it but his touch had your heart fluttering wildly in your chest!

"Here, you were at the bonfire to have fun right? We can have our own fun here." Mel wolfishly grinned at you, his eyes alight with a playful look on his face "We have a couple of cases of beer here if you want?"

"Sure." You looked eager at the offer, nodding your head quickly. Usually, you wouldn't have accepted, Mel being a stranger and all, but you were already a bit inebriated and he was just so handsome that he convinced you easily.

He stood just as Isamu and Leonard entered, both looking flustered and weird.

Of course, excited by the prospect of getting more drunk and forgetting your problems with a bunch of hot strangers, you gestured for them to come sit next to you, not at all minding their weirdness.

Isamu quickly sat next to where Mel was sitting, his back ramrod straight and his hands in his lap. If you had a protractor, you were sure he would measure at ninety degrees exactly.

Leonard, on the other hand, looked relaxed and almost cocky as he sat next to you, even going so far as to scoot the chair closer.

"Mel said he was going to get some beer, do you want to drink with us?" You asked them happily and Leonard made a face like he was disgusted with the suggestion while Isamu immediately nodded.

"Our handsome guest here was just telling me his girlfriend ditched him for someone else." Mel walked over, two bottles of beer in each hand "We can't have him being sad over that right? We have to help him forget all about that stupid bitch."

You scowled, feeling as if maybe you should defend your girlfriend. Mel couldn't just randomly call her a bitch like that, right?

But then, he literally flicked the caps off of the beer bottles like they were made of paper and you thought maybe, a muscly hot guy like him was allowed a few red flags.

He handed you a bottle and you took a fat swig before giggling "Thank you so much for taking me in and for taking care of me like this! I feel so bad for imposing on you guys! You guys are so wonderful!"

Leonard leaned against you, your shoulders bumping against each others' "Don't worry about it. In fact, it's really our pleasure!"

You grinned before wrapping an arm around Leonard and pulling him close, completely missing the look the three of them shared with each other.

Before you knew it, you were just knocking them back, swapping happy stories with the three of them.

Apparently, Mel first moved out here and built the house with the money he inherited with his family. The family itself seemed like a sore subject but he looked entirely too happy to rant about how he made the house.

Then, Isamu came next when he got lost trying to find his dog? The dog died a couple of years later since she was already a senior dog but the two hit it off and started dating almost immediately after Mel helped him find the old geezer.

After Isamu's dog died and he graduated college, he moved in and they literally found Leonard who had tried running away from his overly controlling parents.

When Leonard graduated college, he moved in too. Now, the three of them lived together. The only one of them that really commuted was Leonard but not that far since he worked at a cafe pretty much near the edge of the forest.

You awed and gushed over their relationship, absolutely enamoured by how sweet it was that they all found each other.

At least, that was the last thing you remembered.

"You're a little bit of a light-weight, aren't'cha?" Mel laughed and you felt his entire chest rumble under your palms, his collar bone hard and cozy under your cheek.

"Huh?" You hummed, a little confused.

You got the gist that he was carrying you somewhere. You could feel his big, warm hands on your waist, his fingers almost sneaking underneath your clothes and his rather noticeable nails tickling your skin.

You could also feel your feet stumbling a little on the floor so you knew he wasn't carrying you.

"Hey, pay attention!"

You snapped into reality a bit there, looking around. You weren't in the kitchen anymore. In fact, you were standing in the middle of a living room, right in front of a coffee table.

Mel's hands were all over you and Isamu was right next to you, fretting about whether or not you were going to fall over. The only one not touching you was Leonard who had his arms crossed, looking at you annoyed.

"Oh, sorry." Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening "I don't know what's going on with me, I just--"

"It happens to the best of us." Mel waved your apology off, wolfish grin on his face as if he was quite proud of himself "Nobody can out-drink me, after all."

"I feel like none of you are drunk at all! Just me..." You groaned, forehead pressed against the crook of Mel's neck, arm around him tightening just a little bit.

Even with all of your strength, he didn't even budge one bit.

Isamu just chuckled nervously, his warm hand comforting as it rubbed up and down your back "Call it a buff guy's fast metabolism."

"Leonard isn't even buff!" You pouted at Isamu, your head suddenly flinging back to lean against his shoulder, looking at him with the sweetest puppy eyes.

Isamu stuttered, cheeks reddening "L-Leo didn't drink, di-didn't you see?"

You turned your head a little, cheek still resting against Isamu's shoulder as you squinted at Leonard.

Your memory was so hazy now, after the number of bottles you drank. You couldn't really remember how many bottles Leonard drank.

Or, really, how many bottles you or anyone drank.

"I think I need to lay down." You huffed, moving to go to the couch.

Before you could, Mel wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you close, his lips brushing against your ear "Woah, there, watch for the table."

You felt your ear immediately turn hot and so did your cheeks. You knew it definitely wasn't the alcohol either because you felt the heat between your legs a little too.

You cursed the three of them (especially Mel) for being so sexy.

Then, you looked down, glaring at the offending piece of furniture. You didn't think you were about to trip on it but it must've moved to foil you on your way.

"Thank you." You turned your head and, as you did, you underestimated how close Mel was and accidentally brushed your lips against the corner of his.

Instead of apologising, you just giggled and escaped his grasp when his arm went slack. You practically dove into the couch, unfolding the what felt like dozens of comfortable soft looking blankets and scattering the pillows.

You started arranging them around you, forming a little nest of sorts. You figured the giant sectional was where they'd put you up for the night so you might as well get comfortable.

You thought you heard the three of them muttering but you got so focused on getting your sleeping arrangements right that you couldn't find it in yourself to pay much attention.

It was wild to even see the sectional! You definitely couldn't complain! The thing could fit the four of you easy and then some! You would sleep comfortably by yourself!

"Well then!" Mel suddenly cleared his throat, making you flinch and turn your head to him (reminding him oddly like an adorable meerkat) "I guess we should leave you to get settled..."

In your daze, you missed both Isamu and Leonard huffing and shoving at Mel but you definitely didn't miss the way Mel took a step back, as if more than happy to leave.

Immediately, your eyes watered. "Wait, you didn't want to hang out more?"

The three of them panicked.

"Oh, no, no, you just looked like you were getting comfortable--"

"I-It's just that w-we just didn't want to get in your way--"

"Way to go, meat-head, you dumbass--"

You just crossed your arms and sniffled, trying to look as angry as possible "I'll forgive you if you hang out with me a little longer."

"I may be a little... emmm, inebriated but I'm not sleepy yet." You added, a little proud of yourself for being able to use such a big word.

Mel chuckled a little but nodded "Okay, sounds good. What do you want to do then?"

"Let's watch a movie!" You immediately pointed to the TV, grin on your face as you moved to lean against the back of the sectional, pillow in your arms and blanket draped over your lap. "C'mon, sit next to me."

At first, all three of them seemed to hesitate but, when Mel sat next to the arm of the sofa, Isamu and Leonard quickly followed.

Like in the kitchen, Leonard sat the closest to you, his shoulder bumping against yours. Isamu sat next to you too but he sat rather stiffly and, lastly, Mel sat on the other side of Isamu, his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa.

"What movie should we watch?"

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #oc x reader #male oc #werewolf x reader #werewolf oc x reader #male werewolf x reader #melchior #isamu #leonard #chaptered #alcohol tw #male darling

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

WIBTA for inviting my cousin to an LGBT meet up?

Cw: mentions of suicide and transphobia

I (18M) am a trans man and my cousin N (21F) is a lesbian who is very masc presenting. We're the only queer cousins in the family (at least in our generation) so weve always been good friends and shes been one of the biggest supporters of my transition, defended me from bigoted family members and always corrected family when they used my deadname/old pronouns. I lowkey hoped she would come out as a trans man or nonbinary as well. We dress in the same style which makes it so when were hanging out together one of us is gonna get misgendered since people asume both of us are trans men or masc girls. When N is the one being misgendered she doesnt bother fighting it since its more trouble than its worth but looking back i think it really annoyed her.

Earlier this year N was severely struggling with her mental health. I apologize for the wording i may have since i dont know the proper terminology for this stuff or any specific disorder diagnosis she may have (other than autism). She was having some sort of manic or depressive episode. She was dead set on pushing people away and making them hate her so she could take her own life without regrets.

I visited N once to give her my support during a struggling time but i stupidly told her there was nothing she could say that would push me away. She told me not to test her but i kept pushing it and i admit what happened next was my fault. She told me in a very cold voice that she was a terf, though that she didnt want me dead but that "we" (im guessing she meant trans ppl) made it so much harder for her to exist(???????). I didnt let her keep talking just and left her room, said my goodbyes to her family and just cried while driving home.

Im still not sure if she meant it or if it was part of her mental episode and just a way for her to hurt me and push me away. On one hand ig it explains some of her behavior? N sometimes complained when she got asked for her pronouns or being misgendered like I mentioned before. On the other hand, I gen do not believe she has been a terf all along esp with how supportive shes been of me. If she was a terf youd think she would try to subtly talk me out of it, but that has never happened. My friends have nicknamed her schrodinger's terf lol

Anyway, i went no contact with N for a few months for my own wellbeing. During this time i heard that she tried to kill herself a few times, which got her into a mental hospital. She was given higher doses of meds and seems to be doing way better.

We had a family reunion this week and i decided to approach her. N seemed a little hesitant to talk to me but stayed polite. I tried testing her and talked about the effects T has been having on me but she acted like she always had and congratulated me and even complimented me on how deep my voice has gotten. I wasnt satisfied cause i wanted an apology for what she had said to me so i pushed it more. She did end up apologzing but it was a very surface level apology. At this point i didnt want to keep pushing in case it set her off again so i just took her apology (plus i wanted my best cousin back) and spent the rest of the day hanging out with her.

On the way home my mom said she was happy me and N had made up and that i should invite her to the lgbt club meetings Ive been going to this year. It seemed like a good idea to me, she lost a few friends during her episode and she could make more queer friends here. If N is trans and just in denial it could help her get the resources she needs to feel comfortable coning out. If N IS a terf maybe having more positive interactions with trans ppl could change her mind on it. Overall i thought it would be a win for her.

I brought it up to my friends and some of them blew up at me. Their argument was that itd be exposing the other trans ppl in the group to a terf and putting them in danger. I truly hadnt considered this angle so im kinda conflicted now. She had never felt like an unsafe person before and now that her episode is over she feels normal again. Even if she is a terf i dont think she could actually cause harm? I want N to get better but i dont want to put my trans friends at risk.

So tumblr, WIBTA for inviting N to my lgbt meet up?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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angelyuji · 2 months

Text

yandere superman headcanons

tw kidnapping, "nice" guys/incel behavior (kinda), isolation as punishment, manipulation, yandere stuff... the usual

yandere clark kent x gn!reader

diana prince is next guys I LOVE WOMEN!!! lemme know abt any tags i miss or just any other superman thoughts (yandere or not) cuz i love superman a lot

hes so big and buff and strong

hhnhsdngnnhnhnngnfhgnnngngn

sorry

ive been obsessed with superman and lois recently and i thought to myself “i need him so bad id do unspeakable things”

ALSOOOOOO have u guys seen the new superman??? ohmygodddd HELLOOO SAILOR

anyway here we go :)

sweetest kindest angel alive… at first glance

actual clark is genuinely the best sweetest guy in the world and i don’t think that would technically change but if anything he’d start buying into the incel/nice guy pills and that’s what would warp him

he’s literally sooo sweet to you (i cant get over how much a of cutie pie clark kent is)

ok pause lemme start from the beginning

when he first met you, he was e n a m o u r e d like he thinks youre the most beautiful person in the world type stuff

at first, the relationship is normal, you guys are friends, study buddies, coworkers, yk normal shit

he’s still super in love but hes kinda aware that its one-sided and he can’t make you like him

you guys are super close friends tho

but as his crush progresses, he starts to consult more than his friends and normal relationship advice, he starts to consult incel chatrooms and subreddits

he wants to go further than friendship with you, but all the guys in these chatrooms are telling him awful things abt u. for example:

‘hi! requesting help for getting out of the friendzone with my friend’ i’ve been friends with them for a long time, but i see them as more than a friend. ive had to watch as they date all these awful people and i just want them to see me more than a friend. any advice is appreciated!

– dude these ungrateful bitches are never gonna see u

– people like them never see the good guy until its too late

– u just gotta make them like u, nobody understands the nice guy until u make them

– all of these responses are so weird, just be normal and flirt a little!

ur stupid fuckign idiot nice guys don’t get a chance till u make them give u chance

women are so fucking stupid

reading all these “helpful” comments really warped his mindset

he went from innocent farm boy to incel misogynist becuz

they have to be right! like why else have u not given him the time of day as more than a friend

so soon, ur gonna notice these changes

he went from being supportive bestie to making snide comments, putting you down, making moves on you that you clearly don’t want

ur hurt, heartbroken, your friend became something unrecognizable

u’ll ask for some distance, just to think abt if u want to continue the friendship and clark will realize that he can’t make you like him from just this

so you’re gonna go home, take a nap, and next thing you know you’re getting snatched from bed by freaking superman

he genuinely believes he’s done the right thing

he’ll bring u to the fortress first. he has everything set up already, so u wont freeze or starve to death

i wont bore with the details but he would NEVER lay a hand on u

that’s NOT my superman

its more like

“i need you to eat something.” clark begs you, his eyes filled with worry. he had crouched down next to where you sat. clark had given you free-reign around his fortress, but you chose to sit in the corner near the entrance.

“fuck you.” you turn away from him, anger dripping from your voice. you haven’t eaten since he brought you to his ice castle, but you can’t remember how long ago that was. you missed home, your friends, your family. you missed freedom. you hear clark sigh.

“you’re gonna get sick if you keep going like this, (y/n).” his hand touches your face and you slap his hand away. you know there was no way you could hurt superman, but he holds his hand looking hurt, and you feel a twinge of guilt. he holds out a bag from Big Belly Burgers and places it next to you.

you scooch back, your back hitting the wall, not willing to back down. “i’ll eat if you let me go.” you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but you would do anything to go home.

you see him rub his forehead in frustration, “this isn’t working.” he mutters to himself. you don’t say anything, wanting to see what he would do. instead of trying to fight you again, clark picks up the bag. “i’ll come back when you’re ready.” he says.

“come back? what are you talking ab-” in one blast of air, clark was gone and you were alone.

days had gone by, you felt like you were going crazy from the solitude and the hunger. thankfully, clark had left mountains of water bottles for you, so you tried to fill up with those. it wasn’t enough, you had started to miss your kidnapper’s company after many conversations with yourself. all you could do was sleep or stare at the wall, blankly. after a week, you couldn’t take the isolation. “clark?” you call out, weakly. not a moment passes before he appeared before you.

his eyes were filled with pity and worry, “are you ready, sweetheart?” his hands cup your face and you lean into the warmth, nodding.

he could never hurt you. that entire week away was killing him, but the commenters were right. you just needed to know that he was all you needed.

#like and reblog <3 #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #kidnapping #yandere clark kent #yandere superman #yandere clark kent x reader #yandere superman x reader #yandere headcanons #clark kent x reader #superman x reader #incels #hashtag nice guys #isolation #starvation

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theshippirate22 · 10 months

Text

so i started a fic for this a while ago and it got lost in my wips but then @henderdads posted this and i got right back on my bullshit to finish it! also on ao3 tw: panic attack

November 1985-

Steve had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel of the Beemer while he stared out at the theater ahead of him.

Just looking at it, just thinking about what he was about to do, made his skin crawl. He felt guilty and dirty and miserable, but he didn’t really have any other choice.

Okay, that was a lie. There were definitely a million other things he could be doing. He really needed to clean his room, he was falling desperately behind on movies Robin said he needed to see, and he was supposed to be writing an essay to help him get into Ohio State. There were tapes to be listened to, people to check on, God, his car needed an oil change.

But here he was, anyway, neglecting all of it.

The dashboard clock switched to 11:35 and his stomach burned. He’d gotten himself so freaked out, he was going to throw up in the gutter and drive home before anything even happened. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of what waited for him. The dark, cold, empty house, his relentless nightmares, and his sleepless night.

11:40. His hands were getting cold against the wheel, but he still didn’t will himself into the warm oasis that was the theater. Not yet. He still had time.

He felt like an addict, lying to his friends and family before relapsing back into heroin. He knew it wasn’t like that, that if they knew, all he’d get was funny looks and maybe a snarky comment directed at his intelligence (or lack thereof), but that didn’t make it any better. He still hated himself.

He’d promised to give this up a long time ago, to abandon the lifestyle entirely. Actually, he had turned into something of a doormat at this point- always driving the kids places and covering any of Robin’s shifts when she bailed and offering his house and money up to whoever took advantage of it- because anything he did that didn’t help somebody else felt selfish. He wasn’t allowed to be selfish anymore. He had to repent for when he was selfish.

11:45. Steve groaned softly and got out of the car, attacked by the cold air as it seemed to soak through his sweatshirt.

Way to put the guilt into guilty pleasure, moron, he thought to himself, pushing through the doors to the theater. His inner monologue was starting to sound more and more condescending.

The teenager at the counter glared up at him through her eyelashes, popping a bubble with her gum decisively, clearly annoyed to be running midnight showings at a shitty theater. He slid a five-dollar bill across the counter to her and took a deep breath before forcing out the words.

“Rocky IV, please.”

She looked at him like he was stupid, and he was about ready to run back to his car and pretend none of this had ever happened. This was just another stupid nightmare to haunt him while he tried to sleep.

She handed him a ticket, the bright red DRAGO VS. BALBOA staring up at him-mocking him really- and passed over his change without saying anything at all.

Okay, that was the hard part. That was the part that made him interact with someone, a live actual person, made him admit his sin out loud, make it real and out there.

As soon as the ticket was in his hand and he was walking to the specified theater, he could breathe again. The guilt still writhed heavily in his stomach, but he could fight down the nausea enough to function. Half his brain, the half that had been in control for a good while now, was screaming at him that this was wrong, he was sick and twisted for wanting this, while the other half kept reminding him softly that it was just a movie. No one had to know about it. It would help him tonight- maybe he could get some sleep when he got home- and then it could disappear forever, and he would never think of it again.

It’s just a movie.

Steve was ten when the original came out. His dad had paid for him and Tommy H. to go one Saturday and God, they loved it. They’d gotten in a playfight in the parking lot waiting for Tommy’s mom to pick them up, mimicking the final match between Rocky and Apollo (Steve was Apollo every time they played; Tommy refused to be anything less than the hero, even if technically he was the loser) and Tommy had accidentally knocked him in the face and made his nose bleed. That might’ve been one of the best days of Steve’s childhood if he thought about it.

Three years later, he and Tommy went back and saw Rocky II the first night it was out, and watching Rocky win lit something in Steve on fire, and he convinced himself he could do anything, like how Rocky could still get up even when Apollo had beat him to shit.

Steve got into his first fistfight that summer. He lost, because he had never actually fought before, and his punches were loose and messy, but he didn’t even care, staring up at Jack Donahue through a black eye, because Rocky lost his first fight against Apollo, but he won the second, so next time Steve would win.

He went to Rocky III on a date in 1982 (still waiting to win that second fight, although now it was really Fight 8 or 9 because he’d gotten his ass kicked a good number of times since Jack Donahue). The girl he was with got bored halfway through the movie, climbed into his lap and convinced him to make out instead, but he kept getting distracted by Clubber Lang, and Apollo’s training advice, and Rocky and Andrian’s big house and their happy family, glancing over her shoulder absently as she trailed her mouth up his neck. There wasn’t a second date with her. He didn’t even remember her name.

He remembered what color dress Adrian wore to the final fight, though.

He hadn’t watched any of them since September of ‘84 when he’d rented all of them and binge-watched them one night, mostly to remind himself that Billy Hargrove was just a watered-down Clubber Lang who came to steal his title and insult his (nonexistent) wife and mess up his life. Rocky beat Clubber Lang. Steve would beat Billy.

Within the next few weeks, however, Billy ended up on the ever-growing list of people who had whipped Steve, his Heavyweight-Champion-Of-the-World belt that manifested itself as King Steve of Hawkins High was stripped from him, and he’d started his proverbial pilgrimage to salvation.

He didn’t get to like Rocky anymore. King Steve liked Rocky. Just Steve didn’t have any reason for that luxury. Rocky was athletic, and mindless, and masculine, everything that everyone hated about King Steve, so Just Steve didn’t get it anymore.

It’s just a fucking movie. He reminded himself. No one has to know.

They had unfinished business anyway, Rocky and him. Maybe it was fate, or some shit that IV should come out like five months after Steve did get his first win against the Russian soldier.

Hey, old friend. I did it. I won. I got back up. I won.

We won, Rocky.

Steve hid in the back of the theater, in the dark, where no one would recognize him. There were only maybe a dozen other people in there anyway, but in the dark, he could relax.

He almost felt safe, even, when the opening montage started. There was something so familiar about it, like returning to the house you lived in as a child, but the same sort of estrangement from time. Watching Rocky best Clubber again, knowing Rocky would win, was such a comfortable thing. God, these movies were so good.

He almost didn’t feel like such an asshole anymore.

Rocky was a dad now, you know. Had been since the second one technically, but only now was the kid old enough to have a personality. Watching him with his son was maybe when the six-nugget thing really solidified for Steve. He wanted that, he wanted the house and the kid and sparring with Apollo-the friend who knew- and Adrian.

God, he wanted someone to love him the way Adrian loved.

She was always just there, in the very best sort of way. As if at any moment, Rocky could look over and she would be there, grinning at him, helping him back up, fixing things. And she would shake her head and laugh at her moronic boxer husband and still sing with him when he started up out of tune and flush when he flirted with her.

The reminder of the slump in Steve’s love life manifested itself as a sort of sad aching in his stomach. He redirected his attention out of his thoughts and back to the movie.

The plot was a little mindless; he’d admit it. It was basically the same premise as the last one: Some Big-Bad-Boxer popping up out of nowhere to whip Rocky’s ass just enough in the first half to build a vague sense of suspense as to whether he was going to win the final fight or not, but the only difference now was that he was sparring against Communism or something as a metaphor for the mini-Red Scare happening.

Steve didn’t mind. He knew enough Russians to be pretty psyched about Stallone wailing on them for a few hours.

It’s Apollo Creed, however, who first takes his place across the ring from Ivan Drago. Steve was fine. He was well aware of the fact that whatever happened during this fight would mean absolutely nothing in comparison to whatever happens at the end, except maybe deciding the intensity of the training montage (That was the other thing; Survivor was doing a bunch of the music, how could Steve miss out on that?)

Apollo put on a show, with dancers and lights and that stupid flag robe he’d had in the first one, so this would be good. Mediocre writing, good entertainment.

“You will lose,” Drago growled.

They danced around each other in the ring. Apollo threw a good number of jabs in the beginning. It felt good. Steve almost smiled.

But something happened when Drago started fighting back. Apollo stumbled against the ropes, dripping sweat; Rocky yelled something. Steve missed it- he could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears, suddenly a little too aware of his clothes and where they clung to him.

Drago kept fighting. He punched and punched, each one landing hard and solid against Apollo, against flesh, in a rapid thunk, thunk, thunk.

Steve’s hands started to shake.

Apollo leaned back against the corner post as the bell rings-end of the first round- looking dazed and far away.

Rocky begged. “I gotta stop you. This fight’s finished.”

Apollo’s answer thudded through Steve’s head. “Promise you won’t stop this fight. You don’t stop this fight.”

Bell. Second round. Apollo looked stoned, tripping over his own feet as he tried to dance. Steve knew the feeling. Then Drago had him in a corner and it won’t stop, fists pounding against him again and again. Sweat flew off Apollo’s head and fell against the mat like rain. He doesn’t go down.

There was so much blood. Steve couldn’t breathe. He felt the adrenaline in his sweaty, trembling hands, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t movie excitement, it felt real.

Apollo fell back against the ropes, their support being his only saving grace. His wife screamed from the audience “Stop the fight!” but they won’t, the Russian won’t stop, the fight is still going.

Steve must have started hallucinating. For a moment, all he could hear was his own breath, exhausted and wheezy with pain.

“Scoops... I... I work... Scoops...”

Robin is screaming, sobbing, wailing, voice pounding through his aching head. “Stop it! Stop hurting him!”

A final blow to the jaw. Apollo swung backwards toward the horrified faces of the audience, then lunged forward in depletion. There was blood in his teeth and on his face and staining the white rags and his eye was swollen shut. And the Russian’s wife smiled.

The doctor grinned, white teeth glimmering against the dark beard. He demands something in Russian, and Steve doesn’t understand, but he wants to, he wants to make it go away.

The soldier leans in a final time, delivering a solid blow to his temple.

Steve’s sight fizzles in and out like a kaleidoscope as he falls.

His head hits the concrete floor, and he feels it, the burning pain at the back of his head, seeping up through his brain until his sight goes black.

Apollo was on the floor. His body seized with fatigue and Rocky grabbed him, cradling him in his lap, and he was screaming, crying out for something, and the Russian was still talking but all that gets through to Steve is the grating accent and the fear.

“What did you do to him?!” Robin screams, pulling his weak body towards her with bound hands. “Steve, wake up! Steve, oh my God, wake up, Steve!”

It felt like someone had shoved cotton in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but his own pulse and his own breath, but somehow, Drago’s last couple words made it through.

“If he dies, he dies.”

Steve got to his feet before he realized he was doing it. His legs were moving, and he wasn’t telling them where to go, but they knew somehow. All he was aware of was the nausea sweeping through him like a tidal wave and the trembling, paranoid fear taking over his entire body.

“Who do you work for?!”

“Scoops Ahoy. The ice cream place.”

Thud. His face burned.

“Who do you work for?!”

“Scoops!”

His head flew to the side, pulling something in his neck and shooting white-hot pain down his spine.

“Hit him again.”

Steve collapsed against the bathroom floor. He didn’t even have it in him to make it to a stall and lock himself in; he just melted there against the wall.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his back, drenching him. He couldn’t breathe; his sweatshirt was too tight around his throat and his jeans were touching too much of his thighs and he couldn’t get his chest to move.

Every muscle in his body was too tight to move. Maybe he was having a seizure or a heart attack, but it didn’t even matter, because his head ached around a phantom black eye and a scar on his temple that had taken much too long to heal. His eyes felt massive and dry, like if he didn’t get air soon, they were going to pop out of his head.

He knew he needed to breathe, get the air in and out in a timely manner, but every time he tried to open his mouth, he would just wheeze out “Scoops,” or “Robin!”

The Russians killed Apollo. He was laying on the floor next to him and Robin, in those stupid Americano shorts that were the same color as Steve’s uniform, and Steve knows they’re coming for him next. He played Apollo with Tommy; he is Apollo and he’s about to receive the same fate.

He watched the door to the bathroom in terror like Dolph Lundgren was going to storm through at any moment to try and fight him next. Steve couldn’t win. He wouldn’t win. Not against a Russian, not against Drago.

They were going to kill him. Drago was coming, and as soon as he found him, he was going to beat him to death just like Apollo.

Maybe Steve was sobbing. That would explain the burning in his throat and the noise making his head throb. He couldn’t stop it though; he couldn’t seem to control anything except to pull his knees to his chest and curl in on himself to try and protect his head and his ribs.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, suffocating, shaking, anxious hands tearing through the hair at the back of his head, partially to cover his neck, partially to pull at the roots of his hair until he felt something other than fear. Eventually, he stopped crying, the tears were gone, but he still couldn’t breathe, and his whole face felt clogged up with whatever was left of his sobs.

That only made him panic more, realizing he wasn’t getting any air, and his hands moved down his neck to claw away at his throat and open something up. His nails were dull and harsh, tearing up the skin as he pawed at his Adam’s apple, hyperventilating so loudly, it filled up all his senses so that was all he could hear for a good long while.

“Hey... You alright?”

The voice felt far away and soft like it was spoken by someone who had never experienced the harshness of sensation. God? Steve thought stupidly, carefully acknowledging that to be the first thought he’d had in a long while that wasn’t about his own demise via Russian cruelty.

“Harrington. Can you hear me?”

Steve forced his head up, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, glancing skittishly from wall to wall, trying to remember where he was.

“Right here. You’re okay. Try and breathe for me, Harrington.”

Steve’s shallow breaths continued, hands trailing back up to pull his hair again. He didn’t get there, however, because warm hands clamped softly around his wrists and pulled them away. “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself, honey.”

Steve could see his hands, when he moved his fingers a little bit so he could comprehend that they were his, then followed up the foreign hands- now gripping higher up on his forearm to keep him from falling backward- along pale arms and black sleeves, then up along the corner of a tattoo peeking from underneath the collar of the shirt. Higher up, face-to-face with him, although he hadn’t actually seen it until now, was a tangle of messy curly hair and choppy bangs framing the darkest brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“Adrian?” He choked out. Relief surged through him at the recognition, despite the nagging at the back of his mind that that actually couldn’t be Adrian, because Adrian was here with him, and she was gonna take care of him and fix things like she did for Rocky. “Adrian...”

“Sure.” She mumbled. “Deep breaths, Harrington. Like you’re swimming.” She took a few exaggerated deep breaths for him to mirror, and he nodded weakly, trying to force his lungs to expand entirely.

For a few seconds-or minutes; time really had no meaning for Steve anymore- this went on, Adrian taking one breath and Steve copying until he could do it on his own. She loosened her grip on his arms, eventually dropping them completely. “There you go. Feeling okay?”

Steve hesitated while he assessed. His scalp burned from tugging on his hair, and he was sure he’d scratched his throat up pretty bad, but his hands weren’t shaking nearly as much as they had been a minute ago, and he could unclench his jaw finally- he hadn’t realized it had been so tight; the tension was probably the root cause of the headache- so yeah, he decided. “Better.”

“You ever had a panic attack before?”

He shook his head, choosing not to speak again because of the pathetic gravelly sound of his voice and blinking quickly to fight off the next wave of tears- exhausted ones this time.

“Pretty scary, huh? But it’s okay, it’s not forever. It always goes away. You’re safe, okay?”

He nodded weakly, gazing off over her shoulder to be sure the Russians weren’t coming. God, he was going to have to protect her if Drago came. He could fight, he could protect her...

“You aren’t quite back, are you, Harrington?”

Steve startled, darting his glance back toward her. “My...” He choked out, frustrated that his voice didn’t sound right yet; still too wet and broken to be his own. “My name is Steve.”

Adrian chuckled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know who you are, Steve. I’m glad you know.” She brushed a stray piece of hair from his eyes. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Bathroom,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt.”

“Starcourt? Like the mall? No, it burned down months ago. Remember?”

Steve swallowed hard, staring at the tile. It wasn’t like Starcourt’s- instead of red, green, and orange, this was green, blue, and black. It wasn’t Starcourt. Starcourt was over. Gone. He took a deep breath. “ShowTimez. Theater.”

“Hey, there you go.” She shifted her knees out from under her- it was painful to kneel for so long- and settled cross-legged across from him. “Do you... do you know who I am?”

“Adrian,” Steve whispered quickly.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, almost disappearing under dark bangs. “Like from the movie? Gee, thanks, Harrington, you know how to woo a guy.” She tore her sight away, almost blushing, and continued self-consciously. “Not quite. You... you probably don’t know who I am. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Steve felt bad for getting it wrong. And if it wasn’t Adrian... who cared enough to be so gentle with him? Panic started to fill up inside him again. Who had caught him? Who knew he was here, worse, who had seen him crying? He looked back up, trying to reassess, figure out the right answer.

Upon better inspection, it very much wasn’t Adrian. Besides the hair and the eyes, they didn’t look at all similar. Actually, it was a man, which should’ve been his first assumption given that he was on the floor of the men’s bathroom, but he also forgot his own name for a second there, so he would let it go. He had thick, steel rings that Steve couldn’t coherently recognize into any shapes yet, and tattoos on his arms that Steve hadn’t noticed in his first sweep either. But the face was familiar. Tommy had hated him, loved to pick on him in high school. Maybe Steve had had gym with him junior year. But really, Steve knew him because he was always in the background of whatever place he was driving Dustin to. The party joined Hellfire in September; Steve had been seeing this guy vaguely for months. The name was slow coming to him- everything felt lagged- but eventually, he managed, “Munson. Eddie.”

He grinned. “Yeah! See, I knew I wasn’t that forgettable. Go ahead and call me Talia Shire though, that’s the best name I’ve been called in a while.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched. Maybe it wasn’t Adrian, who he knew he could trust- She's not real, moron, he reminded quickly- but Eddie was harmless. Dustin talked about the guy so much, it was like Steve already knew him anyway.

God, Dustin. What if Eddie told Hellfire and the kids found out he’d been here, and worse, that he’d freaked out? He didn’t know if he could handle it if the kids ever found out he wasn’t as strong as he pretended.

“You can’t tell Dustin.” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“He can’t know I was here, that I was...” He struggled for the words.

Eddie nodded softly. “Yeah. Okay. I won’t tell him.” He lowered his voice as he said it like it was already a secret. “What the little shit doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Steve nodded haphazardly to communicate that he agreed, but he just felt like he looked stupid.

“Hey, uh, do me a favor, and don’t tell the kids you saw me here, either, actually.” Eddie continued. “It goes against my code and everything to watch...” He trailed off, suddenly aware of his audience and needing to watch himself.

“Sports movies.” Steve finished. Eddie grimaced, so he added, “Yeah, no, I get it.”

Eddie nodded, forcing a smile, but it was still tainted with guilt like he’d said something wrong.

Steve was quick to stifle the awkwardness. “How come Rocky makes the cut then?”

“Oh, I don’t really know.” His shoulders relaxed a little and he admitted, “I rented the first one on accident. I was looking for Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the tape said Rocky and I’m a fucking moron, and thought they were the same thing because whoever labeled the tape didn’t bother to write the whole thing, and then I’d already paid for it so I just... watched it and... kinda got sucked in. I love a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.”

Steve grinned. “Me too! I only cared about the boxing when I was younger, but now...”

Eddie tipped his head and stared at him bewilderedly.

“What?”

Eddie shook his head dismissively, tentative smile pulling at the side of his mouth, mumbling, “Never would’ve guessed.”

Steve felt horribly seen, like he’d said too much, flush creeping up his face, and he reached up to pull on the hair at the back of his neck again. But Eddie just laughed softly and pushed himself over next to Steve, leaning back against the wall and brushing his shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay to drive home?”

He nodded, starting to shift to his numb, tingly feet, stumbling and having to prop himself on the wall. “Yeah, I should probably go.”

“Hey.” Eddie grabbed his wrist, softly; he could pull away if he really wanted to. “Calm down, give it a minute. You just started breathing again, let’s make sure you’re good to go.”

So Steve didn’t pull away. He slumped back against the tile, legs sprawled forward to get the blood flowing again.

“Does your head hurt?”

Steve glanced over. “What?”

“Just... uh,” He shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to find a different way to address what he was thinking of. “You were pulling your hair. I wondered if maybe you... you know, what? It doesn’t matter.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little white bottle of Advil. “If you want some.”

“Why do you have that?” Steve chuckled softly, taking it from him thankfully. “I mean, I’ve heard your drug-dealer reputation; I just didn’t realize this is what they meant.”

“Har har.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s for Sinclair actually. He’s been-”

“Bitching about his ankle? Yeah, I keep telling him I’ll wrap it for him but he’s-”

“Being a shithead about the whole thing. He’s gonna drive me to do something drastic.”

“Seriously!” Steve cried. “I’ll hold him down, you can punch.”

Eddie laughed, a real, actual laugh and Steve thought he was going to have no choice but to implode. He was so pretty; he understood the Adrian-mistaking suddenly.

Steve wanted to say something, wanted to make him laugh like that again, but before he could grasp anything, the door shoved open and shattered their perfect privacy.

It was the bubblegum girl from the front desk. She popped the wad of pink obnoxiously, huffing out “Dude, the movie’s been over for like twenty minutes. We’re closing.”

Steve and Eddie shared a conspiratorial Ah-shit-we’re-in-trouble look, before getting to their feet. Steve was still holding the Advil bottle, somewhat uselessly because he’d forgotten he had it. He popped it open and swallowed a few, handing it back to Eddie who banished it back to his pocket.

Bubblegum Girl stared them down the whole way out into the lobby, the pair of them giggling as they went, until eventually they stepped into the cold darkness outside the theater, and the spell was broken. Here they were again, in real life, where things were not so great as that bathroom floor or the world within Rocky.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked softly like he was afraid something had changed the second they’d passed through the doors.

Steve nodded vaguely. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

He shot him a peculiar look and turned off towards where he was inevitably parked, calling out, “Stay safe, Harrington.”

Steve laughed out loud.

March 1986-

Steve hovered over Eddie, who was sitting on Steve’s bathroom counter with his legs over the side, cleaning up the blood on his face with antiseptic wipes Nancy had pulled out of nowhere. His stitches were soft and pliable still, and Steve hated how bulky and thick his fingers were for a moment because if they were small and slim it would force him to be gentler.

Eddie cried out as he brushed over the top of the gash and Steve cringed, yanking his hands back softly to avoid hurting him anymore.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

He was afraid to reach back to finish the job- Eddie was in enough pain as it was- so he stood there, watching him for any more signs of discomfort.

Eddie lifted his head languidly, glancing at the slash of bright red on Steve’s forehead, the angry crimson chain around his neck. He tentatively traced his fingertips along his skin, not along the scab, but just below it, and Steve hummed out a low sound in relief.

“You alright there, Balboa?”

It came out a little more slurred than he would’ve liked, but he was on a good deal of narcotics for God’s sake, and it must’ve delivered itself well enough because Steve offered him a small smile.

“Feel like a large wound,” he offered in his best Stallone accent.

Eddie laughed, and it hurt like a mother on his broken ribs and the stitches in his side, so it quickly delved into a whine, and Steve instantly reached out even if there was nothing he could do.

He caught his hand, pulled it into his lap, just to hold it there. Steve didn’t say anything.

“Steve.”

“Hmm...”

Eddie let go. Took Steve’s face carefully in his hands, even though the stretch sent pain shooting through his torso. “I understand now. Everything. Robin told me about the Russians.”

Steve swallowed thickly, head dipping almost in shame, as if it was too much to meet Eddie’s eyes and risk finding his pity there.

Eddie just tipped his head back up gently. “If I had known... I... I wouldn’t have let you go home alone that night. That’s... that’s not what Adrian does.”

Steve tipped his head just a little like he didn’t quite understand the sentiment.

Eddie swallowed. “I’m gonna kiss you now. You ain’t gotta kiss me back.”

He properly grinned this time, leaning in to meet him halfway, hands placed carefully on Eddie’s knees as he pulled in his face.

And he did kiss back. What can he say? He loves a good suave-athlete-falls-for-a-freak plot.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: panic attack #steddie hurt/comfort #steddie fic #alternate meeting #rocky references #rocky iv spoilers #ficlet

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celaenaeiln · 5 months

Note

it’s a me a 12 am anon . my girlfriend and i had a discussion abt how odd it is that the fandom views and stereotypes the batfam like

dick is romanian and has more fem related traits and somehow it translates into him being a dumb womanizer or just an annoying mother hen?

jason grew up in the streets, i think its popular to hc him as hispanic? idk but jts odd how ppl do that and also think hes an angry heartless brute

cass gets that “badass asian dragon lady” archetype (tbh im not sure what it is but my gf is passionate abt it so like im confident she’s right)

tim?? somehow ive seen wasian hcs for him but the boy is autistic right? somehow a stereotype i see for him is like “weird and socially awkward but super smart” which . i dont think thats right .

steph is adhd right? i think? also falls into the dumb “waffles r my only personality trait” stereotype and uts just a tiny bit odd dyou see it?

damian (and by extension talia) gets done dirty a lot i think i dont .yeah

nyways sorry its been a while <3 would llve to hear ur thoughts n opinions

hey again!!

Batfam fanon is...not great. And it's things like this that remind me why I kinda avoided this fandom until I couldn't.

Dick

Dick is Romani and is canonically more feminized but the dumb womanizer thing is really getting on my nerves. First of all, he's one of the smartest characters, ever. The comforting thing about Dick is that he never loses.

The reason I love reading Dick Grayson runs is because I can read about his thought process, the way he analyzes, how he single-handedly solves crime like it's nothing.

Batman (1940) Issue #703

Secondly he's not a womanizer. He literally has a mental break down at the thought of dating or even kissing someone he isn't in love with. He's never, ever, ever going to sleep with someone he doesn't have atleast some level of romantic attraction to because he feels it's inherently wrong and canonically frowns upon that behavior when others do it.

The mother hen thing - I gotta admit is kinda accurate. He really loves his family and friends and takes care of them really well. He always makes time to sit and listen to all of them with all their problems and helps them solve it so that's fine.

Jason

The hispanic thing - what the actual heck. Literally why? Jason's "hispanic" fanon background along with Tim's "asian" background comes from a wider problem where society has become disillusioned by the same ethnicity for all characters and wants for diversity and representation in the media. I actually do believe in greater representation but not here. When people make Jason hispanic due to his street backstory, they're attempting to diversify canonically white characters but accidentally reinforcing and perpetrating damaging stereotypes about particular ethnicities. Because his background has drugs, poverty, and crime - you want Jason to be Latino? Can you possibly make things worse? And Jason being an angry heartless brute. Not even adding to the stereotype, Jason was not like that. Jason originally started off as troubled but excited kid. He was happy about fighting criminals and having a home and getting food. As he grew older, the more criminals he fought, he came to a realization that people weren't going to change which is when he started getting more violent and angry with them. He didn't do it because he was some sort of psychopath, it's because he cared a lot about the effects these criminals were having on innocent people. Because he can relate. His anger has nothing to do with his supposed "hispanic" background which is still - ?!?!? Why is this even a thing.

Cass

I don't really have anything to say about Cass being that archetype because tbh I kinda think of her like that too. She's exceptionally good at fighting, she's chinese, and she's the strong and silent type. I'd love to hear more about what your gf thinks about it though.

Tim

Again about Tim being Asian. No where near as damaging as Jason being classified Hispanic but also why? He's asian because he's smart? Because he's good at computers? C'mon the stereotype is boring. Isn't it exciting when you watch a movie or show and the Indian guy isn't an IT specialist? Or when the Chinese girl has neon highlights and loves partying? Or when the Japanese girl is rocking combat boots? The best way to appreciate diversity is actually letting ethnic characters have diverse personalities and talents. On a side note, there is not nearly enough celebration of already canonically diverse characters like Roy's navajo heritage or Jessica Cruz's latina one. Isn't it ironic how we're making racialized characters based on stereotypes because we believe there should be more diversity but ignoring canonically ethnic ones. Literally noone talks about Cass connecting to her Chinese side or the fact that she has dyslexia but we're readily jumping on the Asian Tim Drake train.

Autistic Tim Drake I can see where they're coming from because Tim sometimes has a hard time connecting to people. Like he sometimes misses social cues. And to be fair this theory actually has more credibility than some other ones because I don't know if I'd pass that off as awkwardness. But it also may be due to lack of human interaction. Tim's parents left him alone for long periods of time which he gleefully used to track robin and batman at night. I don't have a problem with this one because Tim may actually be inadvertently written as autistic at times so I guess it wouldn't be that far off canon.

Steph

People with ADHD are typically impulsive, don't focus on one thing for too long, and have a lot of energy which is very much like Steph.

Batgirl (2009) Issue #10

But mostly she just has a sense of humor. Which - like the case with Dick - because of course people can't be multifaceted, fandom generally takes for stupidity.

She's not dumb, she's just fun. I guess the waffle thing is because of human beings' pathological need to classify everything into categories and fanon likes to run with dumb blonde for Stephanie which really ticks me off. People can not be a gloomy avenger and still be smart. She solves her crimes and has a laugh while doing it and still pulling off the -

Batgirl (2009) Issue #12

Damian

Where do I start. What is even happening to him? Not in fandom necessarily but canon. What is DC doing???

#rant post #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #black bat #stephanie brown #batgirl #damian wayne #fanon vs canon #cl 12 am anon asks #thanks for the ask!

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crazystargirl · 7 months

Note

hiiii! i saw you wanted some request so i got you! can i request a jack champion x reader where the two of them are on the avatar set just goofing off and being totally oblivious to their feelings for each other while everyone just ships them so hard thank youuuu i love your blog!!!!!!!

take one !

pairing ! - jack champion x reader

word count ! - 0.6k

a/n ! - BRO ANON ILYSM MY REQUESTS WERE LITERALLY A DRIED UP WELL BEFORE ( except for that rlly good smut request but idk how to write smut 😭 ) i also don't think i did this request justice since ive been writing it this whole week and im sick, stressed, and dealing with a lot of issues about friends and grades [ i'll add photos later ]

you basically grew up on the set of avatar the way of water with all the other younger cast members, who practically were family to you at this point

most people try not to play favorites with their friends but you did and tried your best not to reveal to everyone that your favorite was jack. everyone found out anyway even though you thought you were sneaky

but anyways that's not the point

you and jack were "the duo" on set and loved goofing off with each other even though some scenes took longer to film because of this, no one really minded since they all shipped you two

like c'mon you two were so oblivious to the "flirty" side if your friendship that you guys were basically a lost cause

so one day britain, trinity, and jamie decided something needed to happen like cmon the tension was becoming too unbearable

today you guys needed to film a scene where your character, spider, and the rest of the Sully kids were running around the forest before you guys find the recoms

this scene wouldn't have taken that long if it weren’t for you and Jack

you two were not taking anything seriously, stopping every five seconds because jack would trip you or you would push him into the set structure

and then when james would tell you guys what you needed to improve on the scene, you and jack would be playing roblox or scrolling through memes instead of listening

james had decided you two needed a break because you guys had filmed a lot already and you and jack were not helping get anymore done

so now you and jack were hunched over your phone where you kept making jack try on all these filters and you kept taking pictures for later

jamie came up behind you two and tapped you and jack on the shoulders that were closest to each other and since you guys were hunched over, you ended up kissing while trying to see who tapped you two

you both froze and quickly moved away from each other, embarrassed

you guys heard cheering behind you and looked to see the rest of the cast even the adults, clapping and cheering, while jamie stood laughing his head off

"im going to fucking kill you!" you yelled at jamie, getting up to chase him

"y/n! i need a dollar for the swear jar since you cursed!" trinity yelled, also laughing while you and jack were chasing jamie around

eventually jack tackled him since there was no way you would actually be able to tackle jamie because of the unfair height advantage

after jamie was on the ground, jack kept punching him, enough to slightly hurt but not enough to bruise while you held his legs down so he wouldn't kick jack

then you got the idea to steal jamie's phone and quickly took it from his pocket, tugging on jack's arm to tell him "let's go"

you guys ran into one of the storage closets no one uses and sat down, unlocking jamie's phone easily

"so you wanna talk about what happened there?" jack said, playing with your hair as you leaned your head on his chest, scrolling on jamie's phone

"mmmm no i rather not" you said, looking up and kissing him again

jack pulls you into his arms and you guys end up staying like that for the rest of the day, messing around on yours, jack's, or jamie's phone

and of course everyone knows damn well where yall are put who would want to ruin this sweet moment that they had been working on to push on you two?

taglist ! - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @abodyhasbeenfound, @phsychobanana

lmk if you want to be added/removed !

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry angst #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x you #jack champion fluff #jack champion x y/n #jack champion angst

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louellaby · 6 months

Text

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

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taglist: @books-and-catears @owl778 @yourlocalgrass @kaiserkisser @hhurric4ne @amberheavendremurr @yu-ulda @bk-4-trash-fire

E P I L O G U E

「 I'm Right Here! 」

"Y-You're not really going to k-k-k... m-me, are you? I know you won't...! Y-You are all a bunch of sweethearts, after all, and you're all just messing with me right now! Y-You can't do this to me...!"

"Have you forgotten, Lady Soley? They're demons. And with one command from me, you'd be gone."

In the Devildom, the lives of the demons continued on as usual. The streets were bustling with noise, the shops full of customers, the forests as quiet as they have ever been, and the servants of the castle were all busy preparing for an upcoming festival which should bring more cheer to the realm. But in that particular castle, a man sighed deeply as he eyed the paper that slowly crumpled in his grasp.

"That's the 16th sigh this minute, Lucifer," Diavolo lightly chuckled as he watched his friend with an apologetic look. The prince knew what Lucifer was extremely bothered with.

It had already been four weeks since school ended. Everyone should be on vacation, including Lucifer and Diavolo, but they couldn't stay away from this specific problem. Why? Because it was the case of their failed human exchange student, Soley Day, who was thought to have disappeared months ago during their trip. That's right, no one outside the group knew what really happened to her. It's all a big secret.

"What are we going to do about this, Diavolo?" Lucifer sighed once more before dropping the paper on the table and leaning back on his chair. He tried to soothe his headache by rubbing his temples, hanging his head to the back. "I'm supposed to be on a trip with my family, and you told me two months ago that you would handle this on your own."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need your help on this one. I thought I could handle it, but it turns out this is a bigger problem that we hoped for, considering everyone's wondering where Soley has disappeared to. It has become a huge headache."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Lucifer sat up straight again and looked at his friend. "Does the Celestial Realm have a problem with this as well?"

Diavolo shook his head, "No. For reasons unknown to me, they left this one alone. The only problem now lies in Soley's family."

"I see, so that's what's bothering you. Despite their title, they're still just humans, Diavolo. It would be easy to deceive them."

"... Do you really think that that's the only way left to go?" The prince got bothered by Lucifer's reason. He knew Lucifer was getting impatient that he'd suggest something like this, but... is that really what it has come to? Deceiving humans who he wanted to gain the trust of?

A lot of time has passed. Eventually, even Diavolo understood how irritable Lucifer has become, the more the paperwork kept piling on and on. And so, the Avatar of Pride was dismissed for the day.

"You know, it's rare for you to admit you want to spend time with your family," teased Diavolo, enjoying the sight of Lucifer's face turning red as the man got up from his seat.

"My family is important to me, Diavolo. Every single one of those seven; they're all important to me. That will never change." Lucifer left the room, hurrying back home where seven people were waiting in chaos for him to return.

"Family, huh..?"

"Mother! Father! I'm back!" A certain girl with light orange hair and lime green eyes exclaimed, excitedly running out of a limousine and rushing into the arms of her awaiting parents.

"Soley! Welcome home! We were so worried about you! So, so worried!"

"I told you you didn't have to worry so much. I'm fine and in one piece." The girl then looked towards the man who stood behind her parents. "Heath!" She ran past the couple and jumped into the man's arms; an action that surprised both the man and the couple, along with the other servants surrounding them.

It was the first time in a very long while that their young lady showed any closeness or emotion towards her butler. While most were happy about this unexpected development, some were suspicious. Nevertheless, everyone was happy with the events, and her parents were so proud of her.

Little did anyone know, a translucent figure with tears in her eyes was watching them up close.

"Mother! Father! Heath! That's not me! Everyone! Listen to me! I'm right here!"

Despite her constant shouting, her unbearable protests, her desperate efforts in making them notice her; not one of them reacted to her presence. Every time she tried to touch any of them, her hand went through their bodies as if they were made of air; but it was, in fact, her own figure that was the problem.

"Come, Soley, we prepared a party for your return. All of your friends are here, and they can't wait to see you!"

"Alright, I'm coming, but after the party, can we have our own time together? You know, as a family?"

Once again, everyone around them was taken aback. Even the invisible form of her, who cringed at the suggestion.

Everyone knew Soley wasn't one to spend time with her parents anymore. Not since she grew up and had her own friends that she called her family. Because of the surprise, Soley's parents hugged the girl with tears in their eyes. They were so happy to hear that their precious daughter wanted to be with them again that they didn't even question anything. The ghost just watched it happen; her claws digging into her arms and her biting her lip in frustration.

"How dare that fake steal all the attention meant for me... I refuse to take this!"

That day had been a difficult one for the young lady. She watched in pain as her impostor lived the life that was meant to be hers. She did her best trying to get just anyone to notice her. Most painfully, she watched as the fake walked through the halls of the place she called home, with the man she held closest to her heart.

"Heath, I have a question."

"Yes, my lady?"

The two of them were in Soley's room. Heath was helping the lady prepare for the grand party happening later that day.

"What would you do if someone confessed their romantic feelings for you?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You're not doing this to me."

The butler dropped the brush he was holding, freezing in place as he locked eyes through the mirror with the girl in front of him. "I, uhm, I-I beg your pardon?"

"If someone confessed to you, what would you do?"

"Heath, don't answer that!"

The more the questions popped up, the wider Heath's eyes went. His brows furrowed. He suspected everything would've been a joke, but the look in Soley's eyes told him they weren't. And so, putting his heart on his sleeve, he opened his mouth in response.

"I suppose it would depend on my own feelings as well, my lady."

"What do you mean?"

"I will be happy and accept the confession of the person if I also feel the same way for them as they do for me."

"But if you don't, then..."

"Then, no, I'm afraid."

The lady sitting in front of the mirror removed her gaze from Heath and placed it on another. Soley's ghost gasped in surprise when she realised her impostor was staring directly at her, a smirk on her face forming before she opened her mouth and spoke to the butler again, her eyes not looking away from the spirit.

"What about me?"

"... my lady?"

Soley got off the chair and approached the butler, who stood still in confusion. She reached out and held both of his hands in hers, longingly staring at his eyes.

"What if I tell you, Heath, that I have feelings for you? Would you accept them?"

"My Lady, I—"

"Don't worry about your job, Heath. It's secure, and I'll keep it that way no matter your answer. I just want to know how you feel about me."

"No, please. Don't do this to me...! Y-You can't take Heath away from me, ple—"

"I..." The butler paused for a moment. And at that moment, all of his precious memories with his lady rushed through his head, displaying themselves one-by-one.

Heath stared into Soley's eyes just as she had hoped he would. His breathing quickened the more he realised the weight of the situation. But that was a moment he had always been waiting for. The moment he thought would never come. Not even in a million years.

"... I love you, Soley."

"What do you suppose happened to Soley's soul up in the human world?"

"Everything went according to plan, Young Master. Lady Soley had seen her life taken away from her, including the one she felt romantic feelings for. She is currently on a breakdown as we speak."

"What about MC?"

"MC is doing better than before. Their bond with the brothers has deepened greatly."

"Good. Perfect. ..... It's time to find a new exchange student. This time, let's hope they won't be as troublesome as the previous one. And even if they are, we can count on MC to handle it."

"Of course, my Lord. I will prepare the papers."

The moment the Seven Rulers of the Underworld and their human master returned from their family vacation, they were met with stacks and stacks of papers with information about new candidates for the exchange program. As the prince and his butler expected, a tsunami of complaints and disagreements washed over them. After a long while of discussions, everyone agreed to close the exchange program temporarily until they could find the perfect students for it.

Little did they know, a human sorcerer was watching them from his crystal ball in the human world. The moment his deep blue eyes glowed, a piece of paper appeared in his hands. He studied its contents for a moment before placing it in an envelope, a smile appearing on his face as he held the letter out towards the white raven that rested on its perch.

"Deliver this to the prince of the Devildom. Tell him I'm interested in his so-called exchange program."

"Your wish is my command, Lord Ceowald."

「 LOUE'S LETTER | THE END.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Loue's Note:

Whether you've been here since the beginning, or you've just stumbled upon this story recently, I thank you so, so much for taking the time to read this! Thank you for the ones who supported me all the way (you know who you are) ! I'm really grateful for the wonderful reactions I've received! ♡♡♡

Forget-Me-Not has reached its end; but just as one story ends, another one begins. I hope you look forward to my next replaced mc au!

I give you lots of hugs and wish you the sweetest of dreams whenever you fall asleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#Forget-Me-Not #obey me #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #obey me replaced mc au #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

The Archer | Chapter VII: Epiphany

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

Summary: You and Neteyam fight for your lives and the lives of the people you both love, as the war with the humans finally comes to your doorstep.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 10k words

Warnings/notes: angst (lots and lots of angst), mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, spoilers (!!) for ATWOW

A/N: I APOLOGISE PROFUSELY.

Epiphany is the song that drove this whole series, it was the song that made me want to write The Archer, and the chapter that the song deals with is finally here. I feel incredibly sad at the thought of this series ending in a couple of chapters, as it has been literally the only thing on my mind since I started it, more than 2 months ago. I hope you enjoy, and don't hate me too much, I promise I'll make it up to you x

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

Keep your helmet, keep your life, son, just a flesh wound, here's your rifle

Crawling up the beaches now, “Sir, I think he's bleeding out"

And some things you just can't speak about

With you, I serve, with you, I fall down, down

Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out, out

Neteyam had a flurry of messy thoughts percolating around his mind as he was following Lo’ak towards Three Brothers Rocks, where they knew Payakan was. He looked behind him where Tsireya, Ao’nung and Rot’xo, as well as Kiri and Tuk were following suit and worry overwhelmed him at what could be coming. He should calm himself, he thought. It’s all going to be alright, what are the chances the humans would go after Payakan, and the chances that this would happen now, when they were all going? What were the chances this would happen while his baby sisters were with them, anyway? They would all be alright… they all had to be alright. This world took so much from his family, from him, so much suffering and agony he had to live through, more than anyone should ever have to. His thoughts shifted towards his mother, his beautiful, kind and caring mother, who had to watch her sister, the future Tsa’hik, killed by humans, as were her father, her friend and former betrothed, her mentor, her home. Eywa wouldn’t be so cruel as to take more from her, she couldn’t.

He didn’t have time to dwell on the unfairness of the Universe, not when Payakan quickly came into view before them, showing Lo’ak the pinger deeply inserted in the thick skin on his side. Fuck.

Lo’ak quickly jumped on his spirit brother’s fin and started pulling at the rod, with little avail. He watched in horror as a massive ship turned a corner and came fully into view, and with a last thought to you, and your agonising last conversation, he allowed adrenaline to take over him and move him towards where his brother was. He had to do this.

“Bro, come on, help me out! Hurry, the ship’s coming.”

Neteyam reached a hand out to Ao’nung and saw the rest of them get onto the tulkun, starting to pull harder on the pinger that refused to budge, no matter the effort. They needed help. They needed their parents, they needed the Metakyina. He needed you. His hand mindlessly reached to the spot where he usually keeps his transmitter, and cursed loudly when he realised he forgot his radio at home. He looked at Lo’ak and felt relief wash over him when he saw that he was wearing his.

“Call dad. Call it in. Call dad, now!” Lo’ak wasn’t moving, so Neteyam grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him upwards. “Just go, do it!! Just do it!”

Neteyam couldn’t hear Lo’ak over the noise of everybody he was with screaming in pain trying to get this done, and, trusting his brother with the task at hand, he returned to his own, trying to figure out the best way to get everyone out of this mess.

“Dad, dad, I mean… Devil Dog, do you read me?”

Lo’ak’s voice pulled you out of your agonised thoughts, reeling after your dad’s message that just came maybe about a minute ago, and you gasped at confirmation there were still fine, that you still had time.

“Yeah, Lo’ak?” Jake’s voice sounded concerned, and you wondered briefly if he already knew, knew the danger currently facing their children, if he could feel it instinctually, like you could, deep within your soul.

“We’re with a…tulkun that’s under attack. Killer ships inbound, it’s about 2 klicks out.”

“Who’s with you?”

“It’s all of us, and Ao’nung and Tsireya, too. We’re at Three Brothers Rocks.”

“You get to cover and you do not engage, alright? Do you hear me? Do not engage. We’re coming.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Devil Dog, Eagle Eye, I’m on route, maybe 10 minutes out. I’m with Neyn, I’m coming. Over and out.”

“Hurry.”

Gideon watched as commotion happened all around him, all units ready to start their assault on the innocent tulkun. He got his gun out and looked at Quartich and the rest of the Recoms, almost drooling with excitement over seeing the Sully kids, knowing they were so close to finally completing their mission, and more importantly, finally exacting the revenge they have dreamt about since the first breath they took in this new body, this new life.

Concern was deeply imbedded in him, in his mind and soul, and he watched through the scope of his gun for the kids who were struggling to pull out the pinger reflecting red light onto the skin of the huge animal they were sitting on. Just fucking leave, just leave. She’s never going to forgive me if anything happens to you, so just leave.

Gideon was screaming internally at the scene unfolding in front of him, screaming silently at these kids who seemed to have a death wish, who were so irresponsible, his paternal instincts were kicking in full tilt, ready to give them an ass kicking of a lifetime if they all managed to survive this. He’s in this now, he realises briefly. He’s in this. His daughter’s family, potentially his family if any of them manage to ever forgive him for a lifetime of sins he was willing to work his ass off to repent for - all in danger, all risking their lives for this being, knowing full well what is waiting for them if the people on this ship catch them. Is this what it means? To be Na'vi, to live on this planet? Is this how interconnected everything here is, that despite knowing better, despite knowing the dangers that lie ahead, they would be willing to die for another soul? Is this what it meant to see?

“Let’s roll.” He watched as Quaritch got onto his ikran, alongside Weinfleet, and took off, at the same time that the boats armed with people and harpoons hit the water, speeding towards the tulkun. Shit.

He had to wait for his moment, had to wait for a distraction, otherwise he would die before he got the chance to help in anyway. His eyes moved towards the human kid next to him, looking scared and anxious, looking how Gideon was feeling. They exchanged a knowing look. It was time. Time for both of them to go where they truly belonged, to go home. Gideon nodded slowly in his direction. Wait for my mark. Spider was trained by a soldier, that much was true, and the man appreciated Jake Sully’s influence and role in raising these kids a little bit more. He allowed himself to hope, for a second, that it would all work out. These weren’t just normal kids. These were warriors. Ready for battle, raised for the inevitable war that would come to their doorsteps once more sooner or later. If anyone could do this, it’s them.

Neteyam felt exhausted as he was sitting on top of his ilu, the feeling mirrored across the bond from the effort the animal was putting into pulling the pinger out of Payakan. He felt so bad for his aquatic friend, but knew the sooner they removed it, the more time they had to get away. His parents were on the way, so he knew they would be alright, that his sisters would be alright, but the sight of boats approaching them rapidly made the sound of his heart echo painfully in his ears.

“Pull harder!”

“PULL!”

He was thrown forwards as the contraption finally fell in the water, and he took a second, just one second to be proud of the work they did, to be happy they would be able to save the tulkun. Cringing a little at the thought of what you would do at his next words, he spoke:

“Come on, get out of here. Go that way, I will draw them out.” He took off without a second glance, once again the sacrificial lamb for his family. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

An explosion almost took him out, deep ringing in his ear and confusion all around as the ilu tried to understand what was going on around them. He knew, all too well, the power of the human mind, the guns and bombs that were made for mass murder, made for annihilation. He recovered and tried to calm his pal, propelling through water, trying to put as much distance as he could between the blinking device and his family, who took cover in the deep underwater flora at the bottom of the sea. When it was far enough, he let it go, watching as it sank, and moved along, trying to hide before it was too late. They had no weapons, no bows, or arrows, no spears or guns, they were defenceless against the most powerful enemy they were ever going to face. All they could do was hide and wait for their parents to come, for you to come. He didn’t want you here, amidst all of this. He was terrified of the consequences of your fight, but a lot more so of the consequences of this fight. He wanted you as far away from it as possible, but he knew you better than to ask you, to expect that you would stay away. And deep within him, he was relieved. He could do this with you by his side. He needed you, as he always did, to be his light and show him the way out of this. No matter what changes between you, this never will.

You broke through the clouds and the Three Brothers Rock came swiftly into view, and it was impossible to not see the massive ship taking up most of your line of sight. You brought your hand to your radio and pushed the little button, hands trembling in fear and the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“Devil Dog, I’ve got visual on the ship. I’m about one klick away south of it. I see a big ship, 5 boats, I see…fuck… I see Quaritch and Weinfleet on their ikran. Shit, shit. They got someone, it’s Lo’ak. And Tuk, and I think Tsireya. They’re bringing them to the ship. I’m going in.”

“No! Do not engage, do you read me, Quickscope? Do not engage. Sit on your ass, we’re a few minutes out.”

You growled loudly at Jake’s voice, not answering him. You pressed the other button on your second choker.

“Dad, do you read me? I’m about a klick away from the ship. Please make sure they don’t hurt the kids, please, dad. I’m waiting for Jake and the Metkayina to arrive. Stand by. Over.”

Gideon could only focus on your voice so much as he watched Quaritch drag 3 kids onto the ship, one of which was holding on for dear life to the net his siblings were caught in. As soon as Spider caught wind of the scene, he ran for dear life towards the door where they were, pushing anybody unlucky enough to stand in his way, and Gideon found himself running with him, trying to stop him, as well as having to see this for himself, having to make sure the kids will be alright. He recognised the boy and the little girl from the forest, and the man now knew they were called Lo’ak and Tuk. You spent a lot of your time last night talking about them, your almost maternal care for Tuk very obvious even in the short time you spent with him. Lo’ak was hissing at the men encircling him, threatening with a knife, that he had to know was futile against the army surrounding them.

“Stop, don’t hurt them!” He caught Spider and kept him back, to stop him from hurting himself and the others with his recklessness.

“Calm, kid.” He whispered as he held him. “Calm, we’ve got this.”

“Bro, you’re ok?”

“Yeah…great, cuz. Never better.” If he wasn’t so fucking tense, Gideon might have cracked a smile at the kid now laid flush on the ground, but still cracking jokes. He liked him.

“Get back to the bridge.” Gideon gave Spider to some of the humans all around them, as Quaritch dismounted from his ikran. “Keep him there!”

“Yeah… I remember you.” The boy was hissing in Quaritch’s direction, no fear or hesitation in his eyes. Either he was really brave, or really really dumb. Very often the line is very thin, Gideon thought.

“Tie them to the rail, all of them.”

All of a sudden, he was painfully aware of the weight of the knife tucked in a sheath on his waist, and Gideon knew he had to wait for the right time to be able to break the kids free and get them to safety. He wondered briefly if you were watching, if you were seeing what was happening, if you hated how your own father wasn’t doing anything yet.

Your thoughts were all scattered between worry for your siblings who you knew were currently on the ship, but you couldn’t see them anymore, too far away from any clear view, paralysing fear wondering where Neteyam was, and anxiety over having to wait for Jake and the Metkayina. You were circling the rocks, waiting, when you saw Neytiri on her Ikran. You sighed a big sigh of relief, and reached your fingers to your forehead when she spotted you. “I see you, sa’nok.”

You heard noises and ululating beneath you and finally saw the sea of orange Tsurak making their way toward the ship. Almost on command, you saw them all stop and fall in line. Jake…

You felt bad that the one thing he tried so hard to avoid, the one thing he didn’t want, the calamitous fight for his life, for his children’s life, for his family, has come with thunderous power, ready to overtake him, ready to overtake you all. You wondered if he was getting flashbacks to almost 20 years ago, wondered if you would too in 20 years after today, if you were to survive this. You came too close to death too many times, and watched people you love hug it tightly before willing it away, and you prayed over and over that death wouldn’t hold on to anyone you loved ever again, not for a long time.

“Jake.” A voice you have heard once before, enough to never want to hear it again, enough to give you nightmares sounded gravely in your ears. “Tell your friends to stand down. You want your kids back, you come out alone. You know better than to test my resolve.”

You hissed loudly and wanted to speak, but you knew he would be able to hear you, and right now you had an advantage, they didn’t know you were here, didn’t know you had an ikran.

“I took you under my wing, Jake. You betrayed me. You killed your own, good men, good women. I will not hesitate to execute your kid.”

It was clear to you right in that second that Quaritch did not play around, and he was not bluffing. His voice was unflinching, angry, seething and you knew he meant every word he said. Lo’ak… Tuk…

Fear was overtaking your every thought, overtaking the adrenaline fighting to keep you going. You were outnumbered, outgunned, and out-prepared. They had ships, helos, boats, machine guns, harpoons, grenade launchers. They had Ikrans, and they had the kids. You had no leverage that you could reasonably see. How were you ever going to get out of this alive? How were they going to get out of this alive?

Neteyam…

“Just… wait one.”

“Offer’s going to expire. What’s it gonna be?”

“Check your fire. I’m coming out.”

No. No. No.

You looked at Neytiri, confusion plastered all over her face, both of you just flying around aimlessly, waiting for your shot. Did she understand what was going on? Were there any words to explain it to her?

“Ma Jake, what is happening? Ma Jake?” Realisation hit and so did the tears, both of yours, softly trickling down her face, swimming painfully in your eyes.

Gideon watched Jake Sully make his way on the back of a fish, a very big fish. His nerves were eating him alive - what was he supposed to do? He was outnumbered, wildly outnumbered. Even if he managed to kill Quaritch and maybe Weinfleet, there were still half a dozen other Recoms, not to mention tens of soldiers in exo-suits. Maybe it would provide enough of a distraction, but it wouldn’t guarantee the kids getting out of here safely. The thoughts of going out in a blaze of glory, saving his daughter and her family intrigued him, but he couldn’t go without talking to you at least one more time. There was still so much to say. He had so much to learn. He still had so much to make up for.

Gideon had little time to continue his thoughts, as he felt the ship shake slightly, and he couldn’t help wonder for a second if they were getting caught in some sort of quake. His mind froze, as did his body, as the sight unfolding before him. The tulkun, breaching over the ship and landing on top of a few humans wearing exo suits while they screamed and tried to shoot it, to no avail. Shit way to go.

Mayhem emerged all around him, and he realised then this was his chance, when he saw Jake approaching the ship, the full force of the Metkayina close behind. He hurried back inside the ship, trying to make his way towards the middle pool, where most of the humans resided. He pulled out his knife and stabbed the soldiers posted in the doorway, whistling to Spider to follow him. He gave him the spare knife he had on him.

“Ready to get out of here, kid?”

Your breath hitched in your throat watching Payakan trash any and every enemy on sight, and knowing this was the chance you were waiting for, the opportunity of a lifetime, you wasted no time getting out the handgun that you were threatening your dad with just a few hours ago, now speeding at lightning speed in order to save his and the rest of your family’s life. God, how fast the night changes.

“Let’s go, sweet girl.”

Neyn let out a scream, and you joined, battles cries blending with the ones vocalised by Neytiri and the Reef Clan.

You bolted towards one of the airborne helos, willing Neyn to remove the shooter from the door with her massive claws, which stabbed him in the abdomen and dropped in the water. You barrel rolled in the air and came face to face with the pilot, which you shot straight in the head.

“Good girl.”

There wasn’t much you could do without your weapons, so after killing as many people as you could using Neyn as an extension of your own body, you settled for the big ship, knowing Lo’ak, Tuk, Tsireya, Spider and your dad still needed a way out. Your plans were quickly turned to dust when you spotted Weinfleet on his own ikran, barreling towards you, shooting at you with no end in sight. Let’s see if Tuk was right about me. “We’ve got this, girl.”

Neyn gracefully executed every command you gave her, dodging every bullet by the skin of your teeth, performing acrobatics you weren’t even sure you could, and you felt yourself becoming dizzy at the strenuous effort. You needed to save Neyn, no matter what, and the assault was unrelenting, and you felt yourself losing focus, which didn’t bode well for either of you.

Neyn, listen to me. When I jump, you go. Just get away and hide among the Three Brothers Rocks. I’ll call you when it’s safe. You felt restrain in her, pushing against your thoughts, against your wishes. She wanted to protect you, as much as you did her.

I’ll be alright, sweet girl. But I can’t be if anything happens to you.

Without a second thought, you undid your Tsaheylu and jumped in the water, bracing for the impact. You needed a second to adjust to the new environment, and tried to see if you could find an ilu anywhere. You called for one, all the while praying silently that Neyn got away safely. You avoided all the explosions and debris falling all around you, and got scared half to death when a blue form appeared swiftly, no doubt hearing your call. You almost gasped when you saw who it was, and had to try to settle your booming heart - Neteyam.

“Need a ride?” He signalled, smiling a small, sorrowful smile, one that despite everything, was still glowing and glorious, even here, underwater, even in these circumstances.

“Yes, please.”

His hand reached out for yours, and when you touched him, it felt like you came back to life. Like you would be alright. As long as his warm hand was holding yours, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome. You mounted the ilu behind him, and he placed his right hand on your thigh, holding you close, making sure you were secure. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and placed your head on his back, and for a second, just a second, it felt like all was good in the world again, and you were reminded again of how, whenever you were together, it felt like it was just the two of you, this whole world just your own personal playground.

He took off hurriedly, and you made your way to the ship, the mission at hand coming back into focus at full speed. The ship was moving away from you two, and Neteyam saw in shock how it got lifted from the water and then collapsed back on top of it, sending ripples all around you, making the ilu scared and jittery. He had to hurry. His hand tightened around your thigh, and the feeling of your body flush against him made his mind finally focus, his purpose clear as day again. He had to save you and his family. That was his purpose, has been his whole life. He was still so mad at you, so hurt and anguished at your seemingly unfixable problem, but right now, more than anything, he was just grateful you were here. Everything else can come later.

You tapped him on the shoulder and he saw you pointing upwards towards the surface, and he saw the side of the ship come into view. This was it. You held on tightly while the ilu launched out of the water and you both jumped, climbing onto the railings and right next to his siblings and Tsireya. He heard you let out a big gasp to let in the air you had to deprive yourself from underwater.

Tuk’s voice brought his attention back to the task at hand. “NETEYAM! SISTER!”

“Tuk-tuk, we’re here.” As you went to Tuk and Tsireya and let them loose using your knife, Netetam turned to Lo’ak.

“Hey, baby brother, you need some help?”

When his sister was unbound, Neteyam turned to you. “Get Tuk out of here.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right, Neteyam.” He watched irately as you turned to Tsireya. “Get Tuk out of here.”

“Bro, HURRY UP!” He did as his brother asked, not being able to resist teasing him while at it. “Who’s the mighty warrior? Come on, say it.”

While Lo’ak was rubbing his wrists with his fingers, trying to alleviate some of the pain of being shackled, you picked up an SMG from the floor and made sure it was loaded.

“Finally. It’s like I was missing an arm back there.”

“Come on, let’s go.” Neteyam was turning to leave, needing to be rid of this place as soon as humanly possible.

“You guys go ahead. I have to find my dad.”

Neteyam saw Lo’ak give you a strange look, and he realises that his baby brother didn’t know, nobody knew about the meeting between you and your dad. Neteyam still didn’t know what happened at that meeting, but something had to, if you were willing to risk your life for him. Lo'ak turned back towards his brother.

“And they got Spider. We have to get him. Come on.”

“No, Lo’ak. You go. I will get Spider and my dad. I don’t want you here.”

Neteyam gave you both a hard look, growling at the insanity of what you were asking of him, of each other, of yourselves.

“Sullys stick together.”

You made your way through the ship that was slowly sinking, killing anybody that stood in between you and your goal. You were trained for this, you were ready. You didn’t like killing, didn’t revel in it, but as you came face to face with the men that willingly or unwillingly killed the tulkun and her calf, that took your family hostage, that were threatening everything you held dear to your heart, there was no hesitation in your aim, in your resolve. You went first, Lo’ak followed and Neteyam was last, gun in hand, covering your six o’clock. You were a bundle of nerves thinking of the two, worrying for them. You didn’t want them here, you wanted to know them safe and away from all of the dangers lurking on every corner of this ship, but you also understood that if the situation was reversed, you would have never left them, either. You were all in this together, have been since your birth.

You were crawling on top of the bars connecting the ceiling of the ship, trying to stealth your way through the more populated area, until you saw your dad and Spider, fighting half a dozen guys in exo suits. You dropped on the floor, shooting a couple in the head and you watched as Neteyam and your dad took care of the other four.

“Kid!”

“Spider!”

Your dad came to you and cupped your face in his large hand, the other one checking for any injuries. He held you at arms length and turned you around and looked at your back, your abdomen, your arms. You felt tears pooling in your eyes at the gesture, feeling your heart beating loudly in your chest. He was worried about you. Your dad was worried about you.

“You’re ok. Thank God you’re ok.”

You wanted to keep your distance, wanted to be harsh and aloof, but the weight of everything that you were going through came crashing down on you like a badly timed wave that crushed you under its weight, and you felt yourself closing the gap and giving him a hug.

“Dad!” You heard his gasp and he took in the interaction, and you felt his arms circling you, wrapping them around your back and reciprocating the hug that you have both needed all your lives.

“I’m here, kid. I’m here.”

It took a while for the next few moments to register in your mind. You heard a noise, and as you opened your eyes previously buried in your father’s chest, you saw a big metal door push open and an outbreak of humans with guns came rushing in, shooting at you and your family. You heard the deep haunting noises of shots fired, of people screaming, you saw blood pouring out of the men’s faces, bodies, you felt your dad push you out of the way and turning around to finish the job and as your mind came back to you, your first thought was of Spider, Lo’ak and Neteyam, and you turned around to make sure they were all alright. Spider’s arm was grazed by a bullet and he was bleeding, and you screamed, hurrying to his side. The wound looked superficial, and relief washed over you. Neteyam and Lo’ak were fine. They were fine. They were fine.

A cough and a small thud were all you heard as you took in your family’s horrified looks. Your breath was shallow in fearful anticipation as you turned around, and saw blood pouring out of your dad’s mouth in short, saccadic bursts. You stood there, frozen in time and space, unable to think or move, unable to understand the clear situation displayed in front of you.

“Atan…”

“Angel! Do something!” Lo’ak was shaking you now, trying to get you out of your catatonic state, and at the sound of yet another cough and a big splatter of blood getting everywhere over your dad’s clothes, you felt something snap in you, and you rushed to his side, looking at the damage.

No. No no no no. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

Your dad’s back took the bulk of the assault, and as you traveled your hand over his wounds and felt him wince slowly, felt his trembling body, you knew he didn’t have time. You knew then there was little you could do. Tears were spilling out your eyes and onto your wandering hands, and you knew that despite everything, you had to try. You had to try, because you needed time. He needed time. You just got him back. You needed time.

You took your knife from your waist and cut his ammo vest, jacket and shirt, exposing his back, that looked red and festering, blooding gushing out of every wound like an artisanal fountain. You needed to stop the bleeding, so you took the shirt he was wearing and cut it into strips, tightly wrapping them around him.

Think. Think. Think.

“Neteyam, help me tighten this. Keep him upright, I need to call for Neyn. I have supplies on her. I need to get him out of here.”

You heard loud thuds and shots fire at big metal doors on the other side, and you knew whatever was coming was even worse. They were about to break through, and you moved your dad behind cover, gun in hand, making sure to reload it. You didn’t know what to do, how to go about this, your entire being screaming for you to get your dad out of this burning, sinking hole and onto safe ground, where you could save him. You needed them all to leave - to live. You were scrambling for ideas, looking frantically all around you, when Neteyam came kneeling next to you, holding your face in his hands.

“You have to go. Now. Just go. Call Neyn and go, we have your back. We will meet you after.”

You shook your head violently, soft sobs escaping your parted lips.

“I can’t leave you. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. We can do this, Atan. I taught you everything you know, remember? We can do this. We’ll cover for you, when I tell you it’s safe, you and your dad go through those doors and leave. We’ll be right behind you as soon as this is over.”

Loud bangs were interrupting your already scattered thoughts, and without further arguing, you nodded.

“Neteyam, I’m…-“

His lips smashed aggressively into yours, and you cried in the kiss, pouring your overwhelming emotions into it, into him, pouring the unspoken apologies and love you wanted to shout at the top of your lungs, but couldn’t.

“I know. Me too. We’ll talk. When I say, you go. Deal?”

“Deal.”

You turned to your dad, hand scrambling to erase the tears mercilessly falling down your face.

“Can you do this, dad?” He nodded, deep pain clear all over his face while he tried to position himself so he would be able to run at Neteyam’s signal.

Neteyam watched as two Avatars and enough humans with exo-suits that they were easily outnumbered pushed through the doors, guns blazing. He looked at your meek, exhausted form, drenched to the elbows in your dad’s blood, and he couldn’t help the sadness that enveloped him at the realisation you would have to watch your dad’s dead body once more in this lifetime, the Universe once again choosing you to bear the weight of this whole world on your shoulders, despite everything else you have had to endure. He was reeling at the hurt you were about to bear once again, at how much this was going to affect you, was going to undo all the healing you have worked so hard for. Why does everything have to happen to you?

He got his gun out and shot three of the men making their way towards them, and saw Lo’ak do the same. He wishes he had his bow and arrows - he was proficient with these guns, thanks to your help teaching them, but it still felt unnatural, wrong to him. He didn’t have time to be fussy about it, the problem in front of him much too important for such trivial matters. When he saw an opening as he shot yet another man, he shouted at you.

“NOW! Go go go!”

You got out onto the deck and let out a wailing cry, trying to summon your banshee that would have been waiting for your call. Soon enough, you saw her, flapping her wings majestically as she landed on the railing of the ship.

“Dad, you have to move, please. Please, I know it hurts, but I need you to try.”

You helped him as much as you could. He wasn’t speaking, just taking big breaths, trying to keep conscious. You could tell how well trained he was, what a soldier he had been. There was no sound coming out of him, no cry, no wail, no scream. Nothing, quiet as the dead of night as he suffered unimaginable pain and his almost nonchalant exterior made your torment even worse. It would be easier to digest if he was showing signs of suffering, but brave as he was - it all just made you feel worse, it made your heart ache so hard the broken shards were stabbing you from the inside out.

Eventually, you got him on Neyn and you took off, aiming for some of the rocks you could see in the distance. They were flat and tucked away from the fight still happening around you. Your mind was mush, being split in so many directions between your fear and hurt and the anxiety you felt thinking about your dad, about what you left behind on the ship, worrying yourself sick at the thought of Neteyam and your siblings fighting humans with metal armours protecting them, shooting to kill. Should you have stayed? Should you have left your dad on the ship and stayed with them and fight with them? It felt like an impossible choice either way, one you had no brain power to think about further without collapsing.

As soon as you landed, you got to work, dismounting him and placing him as gently as you could on the ground, hurrying back to your emergency medical bag, that you always, always had on your ikran, and placed it next to him.

As you hovered on top on him, getting supplies, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, weakly, like he could barely manage even that.

“Kid… stop.”

Your bottom lips quivered, eyes glancing to his face. He looked…peaceful. Content. A small smile was adorning his beautiful face, now laced with sweat and blood and he squeezed your wrist to the best of his abilities.

“No. I can do this. I can save you.”

“You already have, kid. You have to stop now. It’s alright.”

You let out a pained sob, shaking furiously now.

“I just got you back. I can do this. Please.”

“I grew up rich, did your mum ever tell you that? My parents were big shots back in the States, and I grew up going to the fanciest places, the best prep schools. I got accepted into Harvard early, about 2 years before I had to graduate, and I was on my way to continuing my dad’s…legacy, if you can call it that.” You listened attentively to his words, trying to absorb everything you could about this man you found and were about to lose again in the span of one day. “My mother, bless her, she was…a kind woman. Too kind. She was weak and was too scared to ever stand up to my dad. He was a bad man. A very bad man. I watched as he beat my mother my whole life, and watched as he did the same to me until I was old enough to stand up for myself. I was 13 when I smashed a bottle of Armagnac across his face. He told his business partners it was a skiing accident. I was a coward, for so long. I wanted to leave, so badly, I would have taken off at 13 if I could, but my mother did not want to leave, refused to leave no matter what, and I didn’t want to leave her. I was scared of what would happen to her if I left.

She died, when I was 16. She killed herself. It’s fucked up, so fucked up, but when it happened…I was relieved. Because she didn’t have to suffer anymore - and neither did I. I left the day of her funeral, and never looked back.”

He was talking slowly, choking on every other word, his breathing shallow and weak, and by the noises he was making while he was inhaling, you knew his lung was collapsing.

“Dad… you need to keep your strength. You don’t have to say anything.”

“I do, kid. I do. I need to get this out. Please.”

“I joined the army, forged the documents to hide my age and that was that. I worked my way up and tried to make a new kind of legacy for myself. At first, I did it just to get away, but in time, I fell in love with the camaraderie of it. It felt for the first time in my life like I had a family. My squad was my family, and I would have done anything I could to save them, because they would have done the same for me. They were good people. My whole worldview changed. Everything. My desires and needs, my moral compass and principles. I knew nothing else.”

“I joined the army because I had to, because I had no other choice than to escape the hell I was brought in, the hell I carried with me everywhere I went. I joined the RDA because I had to do that, I had to try to save my daughter. I followed them into battle because it was my squad, it was the only truth I knew. My whole life, it felt like I had no choice. Like everything I did was cause it was forced upon me, cause I had to. But this, I can choose. I get to choose how I die this time. And I get to die for my daughter. I get to know my back, my body protected you from bullets that might have taken you out of this world, a world that needs you desperately.”

“No, dad…”

“I chose wrong the first time. I should have turned around at the first sight of the injustice, I should have joined your mother. I should have joined Jake. But I didn’t. I chose wrong, over and over. But now I get to choose right. And I am happy with that choice.”

“I am so sorry, kid. So sorry for everything you had to suffer in this life, so sorry for everything I contributed to it. All my life, all I wanted was to be everything my father wasn’t, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t be better. And I am so sorry. I wanted nothing more than to see you grow up. Nothing more than to have been there to teach you, be there to love you. But I am satisfied with knowing I get to see you live, see you love a good man, who clearly loves you and will cherish you forever. And when you’ll have your own children, they’ll know your dad was more than a cowardly runt. I love you, kid. You and Sarah are the best things I have ever done, and I am sorry I couldn’t do better. And a really long time from now, when you see your mother again, tell her I love her. That I love her more than life itself, and whatever eternity awaits for me, she will always be there to guide me through it.”

Your vision was blurred now, so many tears inundating your every sense, making a mess of your spinning world, swiftly falling apart around you. You saw his eyes flutter closed and he let out a final breath that felt like he had been holding in his whole entire life. Your hand went to his face, that you caressed gently.

“You tell her yourself, dad.”

Neteyam knew they couldn’t continue for much longer the way they were. They had to leave. No matter how much they were pushing back, more and more people swarmed in and he knew they were going to be overtaken soon. He needed an opening and he needed to get his siblings out of here. He poked his head out and shot a few more people and screamed at Lo’ak, who was more than holding his own, hidden from view next to Spider thanks to a plank behind Neteyam. Neteyam couldn’t help be proud of his baby brother, who has blossomed into a great warrior, a great fighter, a good man in the storm.

“Lo’ak, Spider, we have to go. The door behind you, where she left through. You run when I tell you and jump straight in the water, am I clear?”

“Bro, you sound like dad.”

Neteyam pointed the gun without coming out from the cover and shot, firing as many bullets as possible, trying to cause the distraction needed for them to be able to run away. He didn’t think about anything else other than his baby brother when he screamed in their direction.

“GO GO GO!”

He continued firing until the last second, relieved when he saw the two boys jumping into water to safety, and then, trusting in his Na’vi skills, he ran as fast as his feet could carry him out the door, dodging the bullets landing all around him.

He heard it before he felt it. The squelching sound of flesh and blood, the muffled thud as the bullet pierced his skin and travelled across his body, the soft clink when it dropped from his chest onto the cold, hard floor of the ship. Then he felt it. Physical pain like he’s never experienced before, radiating and throbbing through his entire being. He could feel it in his throat, in his toes, at the tips of his fingers. He could feel his heart, pumping hard and fast, could feel the blood spilling out rhythmically, with every heartbeat that was so loud and clear, it was like his heart was exposed for the whole world to see. It might as well be, Neteyam couldn’t tell.

It all happened so fast, he felt his thoughts process in slow motion. He thought about you. You were always the first thought on his mind, but specifically now, specifically after he imagines you had to watch your dad die in front of you, had to put him down to sleep, just like you have your mother. The hurt he felt in his body was nothing compared to his soul, thinking about you needing to bury yet another loved one, you needing to say goodbye to him. He couldn’t do that to you.

“Neteyam, I can’t lose you. Losing you will kill me. It will break me worse than anything else I have ever gone through, and so you can’t die. Ever. And you can’t take stupid risks like that. I can’t lose you.”

“Neteyam, if you die, I will too.”

He had to live, he had to be ok, for you. For his brother, who would blame himself, as he always did, for his dad, who would also blame his brother. For his baby sister, who looked at him like a second father, like he was the mightiest warrior to ever live, who was much too young to have to understand what it truly means to be alive, how much loss you must go through in this life before you eventually lose yourself. He had to live for Kiri, who was sweet and gentle, and needed her big brother to be there for her when the world got a big too much for her liking. He had to live for his mother, who much like you, has lost too much, too soon, more than anyone ever should have to. His mother, who had to say goodbye to her whole world, there was no way she should have to say goodbye to her firstborn son.

He faintly recognised hitting the water, which did wonders for the wound that was being cleaned with every undulation and ripple, and he noticed the way it quickly turned from serene blue to ominous maroon. He heard Lo’ak call for an ilu and was surprised when Tsireya made her way to them, happy to have been reunited with her favourite new person.

“Get on.”

“Come on, bro.” Neteyam was struggling staying conscious already, feeling his mind slipping up at the continuous loss of blood.

Fuck. Come on. You can do this, Neteyam. You can do this. You can’t leave them. You can’t give up.

“Skxawng, I’m shot.” He heard nothing as deep silence enveloped his family swimming around him. Eventually, it all came clear into focus as Lo’ak cursed loudly, asking for Spider and Tsireya to help him onto the ilu. He tried to prop himself up behind his brother as best he could, and he saw Tsireya staying behind, saying something about Kiri and Tuk that Neteyam couldn’t process in his current state, not anymore.

Neteyam was heaving by the time they got to safety, unable to hear or understand anything around him, unable to focus on anything outside of his panted breaths and painful heartbeat, that was struggling to pump the blood that was still remaining in his body. The whole world was blurred and shaky and the only thought fluttering through him was you. Where were you? He needed you, needed you to tell him it was all going to be alright, needing his light to lead him out of the darkness quickly enveloping him and back to you, back to the forest and to your clearing, back to stolen glances and wishful touches, back to when the hardest part about his life was figuring out how he could ever resist you, how he would ever stop loving the beautiful, intelligent, incredible human girl that he could never have. He’d give anything to have that back, anything to make that his biggest problem. Because if he could go back, he would have never waited. He would have kissed you, like you wanted to be kissed, like Dean kissed Rory in that Gilmore Girls episode you loved. He would have confessed to you the first time he realised he was so irrevocably in love with you, in your bed, when you said his name in your sleep. He would have kept you and cared for you and eased your pain instead of adding to it, like he couldn’t help doing, despite his strenuous efforts otherwise.

If he could, he would tell you he forgives you, and he doesn’t blame you for the fight. He would go back and tell you that it bothered him months ago, and listened to you as you poured out your heart to him and the insecurities that plagued you, and you would have worked through it together in time. He would tell you how sorry he is, that this world and his upbringing made him the way he was, that he was unable to speak of the things that dwelled deep within his soul and nested there, festering and hurting until they exploded in him, and he exploded around you. He is sorry for all the wasted time, for the year you spent apart. He would tell you he’ll always regret calling you a coward, always regret leaving you in that meadow where you died, only to be found by his dad and not him. It should have been him. If he could, he’d scream that there’s nothing in this world that he would change when it comes to you, and this once-in-a-universe love you shared. He would tell you that despite the fights, and the struggles, and the messy past, and the unknown future, you will always be his most formidable happenstance, the best thing he has ever known, the person he has loved the most, and your eyes will always be the beacon he carries with him to whatever lies beyond.

No words came out.

You finished cleaning your father’s wounds and your own bloodied hands when you heard commotion in the near distance on a different rock, and watched in horror as Jake was helping up Lo’ak and Spider. You didn't even have time to process your loss, yet another loss, when you saw a body being carried to the shore, carefully, like it was delicate china; your whole body halted as you took the scene in, as you realised the body was Neteyam’s. Almost robotically, you got up and got on Neyn, silently telling her where to go. She did as you told her, and in no time you made it, dismounting midair, not being able to wait for the landing.

A second. That’s all it took for the world to fall apart around you, to burn to the ground, only the ashes of your past, present and future remaining. Just a second to see your mate’s shaking body, his family circling him, kneeling next to him. A second to hear Jake telling Lo’ak to put pressure on the wound, a second to see that blood was pouring out at both the entry and the exit point of the bullet, meaning it passed through his whole body. A second to realise the bullet was just above his heart, which meant it probably hit his aorta or pulmonary artery, in which case he would be bleeding out in front of your eyes, with nothing you can do to stop it - yet again.

A second for your whole life to flash before your eyes, for every one of the million moments you spent together to appear in front of you like a film reel on a screen. Sleeping in the same crib from when he was born, just a couple of months after you. Sharing food as babies, throwing it at each other, feeding each other. Wearing his little loincloth as a toddler so you could sleep peacefully when he wasn’t there. Tugging at his little braids because they sounded pretty when the wind blew the beads in them against each other. Your first peck on the lips when you were both six as your parents laughed and said in another life, in a different life, you were meant to be together forever, that you were soulmates. Your first hike when you were 8, when he taught you how to climb trees and caught you when you fell from a couple meters up, straight into his much bigger body. His ninth birthday when you worked really hard to bake him a human cake, but you put salt instead of sugar and he still ate it and told you it was delicious because he didn’t want to let you down - he never touched human food afterwards, though. Giving you the bracelet when you were ten, that you subconsciously raised your hand to feel right now, still tightly wrapped around you, like it always was. The day he left. The day he came back. Your first sleepover, the first night you looked at his lips and wondered what they would feel like against yours. Your first actual kiss, angry and passionate. Every one of your subsequent kisses, that you could see each of, along with every hug, every cuddle, and touch of the hand, every look of love and adoration, every night buried in each other. You saw it all. One second.

“Atan.” His shaky, breathy voice pulled you out of your nightmare and into a fresh one, but you woke up and moved next to him. You had to do this, no matter how badly your entire being was telling you to run, telling you that if you watched him die, you would never in your life recover, you would never live again, you had to do this. You would never forgive yourself if you left right now. He needed you. You were his light, he's always told you as much; he needed you. You placed your hand on his wounds and pressed on it, and you felt his hand wrap around yours.

“I’m here. I’m here. Just stay with me, please. I can fix this. I can fix it.”

He tried to smile a little, but a grimace was the most he managed.

“It’s alright, Atan. I want to go home.”

No.

NO.

NO!

You were deep in thought, doing the math for all the solutions you were trying to make for the next steps in your set of experiments when you heard the door slide open. You paid no mind to it, as it was most likely one of the scientists and you didn’t want to lose track of all the hard work you have put in so far. It turns out, no matter how hard Max and Norm tried, math never came easy to you, and you felt cheated by how much of it you had to do for biological experiments. When a tiny groan came out from somewhere near the door, your eyes shot up to the voice you recognised better than your own and dropped the pen where you saw Neteyam standing there, blood pouring out of a wound on his chest.

“Oh, my God!” You rushed to his side, instantly forgetting about the thing you’ve spent the last hour trying to figure out, and tried to pull him towards the nearest chair. It was pointless, your effort, as his body, almost twice as large as yours and about ten times stronger, was still, no matter how hard you pushed. “Move, Neteyam.”

“Stop worrying, Atan. It’s not that bad.” You blushed a little, the nickname that he gave you recently still fresh in your mind, still sending butterflies everywhere in your body. Light. He thought of you as his light. How were you supposed to be friends when he called you his light?!

“You skxawng, how did you manage to do that?” He sat down at last, groaning as the cold surface made contact with his bare thighs. You were out of your mind with worry, still not used to it, even after all this time, him going off on dangerous scouting and hunting missions and crawling back to you like this, bloody and bruised and in need of medical attention. He never went to Mo’at. He came to you. You wondered why that is. It couldn’t be cause he believed in the miracle of science more than his own grandmother, his Tsa’hik, so it must be something else.

“I hunted, it hunted back.” You rolled your eyes at his desire to always keep these things from you, still thinking he’s protecting you from the outside world, from the dangers lurking on Pandora, like if he did, you would maybe be more likely to go out with him, instead of spending your entire life in this lab.

“I thought you said you were going to be more careful.”

“I was careful, Atan. These things happen at hunting parties.”

“Sure… it almost seems like they always happen to you. I’m starting to think you like the feel of the stitches on your skin.”

He blushed a little and you raised an eyebrow. What’s that about?

“Let me go grab my stuff. I hope you know you have contaminated my work space and will now have to spend the rest of the day disinfecting everything, so you better be in a lot of pain.”

He laughed, wincing a little as the action made his wound hurt more. You hurried, grabbing everything you need to patch him up, as you always did.

He stood in silence as you worked, looking at you, which made the pounding in your ear, a mirror of your racing heartbeat, painful and impossible to ignore. You cleaned his wound and scratches on his arm, tracing his stripes, more pronounced than any other Omatikaya you’ve seen. It reminded you of Earth tigers, so majestic, so regal.

“What are you thinking about?” He pulled you out of your reflections with his soft, deep voice and it was your cheeks felt hot, knowing you couldn’t possibly tell him the truth.

“I was thinking that this wound on your chest is going to take forever to stitch if you don’t want a massive scar, so you better take a deep breath from that mask and settle in. We’re going to be here awhile.”

He didn’t look too upset about it.

It took a long time, but eventually you stitched everything that needed stitching, proud of your handy work, happy to know he will heal fine and there will not be anything marring his beautiful skin when this was over. You looked at him, and your eyes fell on his face, so close to yours, at the same level as yours as he was, plopped onto the chair, and then you noticed the gash on his lower lip, gulping loudly when you realised you had to treat that too. He looked at you curiously, and at your hands which were looking for some antiseptic cream.

You didn’t look at him as you took a clean gauze, dipped it in water and gently applied pressure on the wound, that had dried blood all over it. You worked in silence, praying he couldn’t hear the thumping of your heart and how you kept having to swallow every few seconds. You applied the cream on his lip using your hand, and patted it down slowly.

“Don’t lick your lips for a while, or you’ll take this off and the moisture will only make it worse.” You started turning around, needing a little space, but he caught your small wrist in his hand, arresting it in midair.

“Thank you. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled at him, grateful for his presence in your life - now and always. Your eyes fell on his and then travelled to his lips, and your mouth opened slightly in need. You were both just sitting there, looking at each other, feeling things you had no business feeling, and when the pressure, the shift in the air was so intense it was palpable, you slowly lowered your arm and he let go. This couldn’t happen.

You didn’t want this to continue being as awkward as it currently was, so you smiled again, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ll never have to find out.”

“But next time, I am doing this with no anaesthesia, so you better think twice before you get yourself hurt again.”

“As long as you are there to heal me, I will always be alright.”

“NETEYAM! NETEYAM!”

Neytiri’s wails were punching holes in your whole body, each one bloodier than the last. The final blow came from his eyes, vacant and glossed over. You looked at your hands, tightly placed on Neteyam’s now still, unmoving chest, drenched in his blood. You looked at his now cold hand, which let your wrist go and fall to the ground, and you felt empty.

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