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bettyfrommars · 9 months

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Handcuffs & Crab Rangoon

(also known as How I Met Your Mother)

playgirl!Eddie x Reader

By Request! From this ask, directly inspired by this delicious artwork by @sporelium (run don't walk if you haven't seen it yet) but also inspired by the 1995 Peter Steele Playgirl cover. Peter notoriously kept his joystick hard for most of the 6-7 hour shoot because he thought readers of the magazine would enjoy it more than if it were flaccid (I'm fine either way, but damn, thanks baby). wc: 4.3k

18+Only, mature content, smut, rockstar!Eddie, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, reader wears overalls, pet names, fingering, mention of Eddie's scars, accidental edging, sex on the job, sneaky sex, she/her is used once, no y/n, reader is a tough cookie, but Eddie is magic. It is the mid-90's.

Playgirl!eddie afterthoughts

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You’d been helping out a photographer for risqué magazine shoots as an assistant for almost 5 months now. It was the fourth job you had just to keep yourself afloat while trying to live an independent life in LA. To make it in show business you had to be extremely talented, drop dead gorgeous, backed by generational wealth, or just plain lucky, and you were none of those. So, you broke your back to make ends meet while taking night classes and working on the script you were writing with two other friends.

The studio loft on the second floor was an expansive space with windows overlooking the industrial district all along the wall. Sasha, the photographer, stood adjusting her camera on the tripod, while the makeup artist touched up the rockstar you were working with that day, and Need You Tonight by INXS played low from the radio on a nearby shelf.

You saw him from the back first; long, dark wavy hair hanging down over the white robe he wore to protect his modesty for the time being. You noticed that his hands were strong and calloused as they hung at his sides. June, the makeup artist, was on a step stool to blot his nose with powder and fix the crown of his hair.

June saw you coming and introduced you, causing Eddie to turn on his heel, tightening the sash on his robe as he did.

You sucked in your bottom lip to hold back a whimper at the zing you felt when his warm hazelnut eyes met yours. His full, soft lips parted in greeting, a long strand from his bangs bouncing on his eyelash, his gaze rolling over you from head to foot indulgently.

Of course, you’d heard of rock star Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin. At one of your other jobs, a girl you worked with had his magazine cutouts taped to the inside of her locker. Last year, he was Cher’s date to the Grammys. He was getting ready to go on tour, and procuring tickets was all any of your friends could talk about.

But, goddamn, he was much better looking in person than any tabloid or tv show could've ever prepared you for, and the chemistry vibrating in the space between the two of you was palpable.

“Eddie…Munson, you say?” You squinted, as if you were trying to place him, like the name sounded familiar but you didn’t know why while June fixed the back of his hair. “Football player, right?”

The tip of his tongue sipped out to wet his lips, curling one side of his mouth up in a half grin. “I love a girl who knows her sports.”

There were a few loaded seconds there when the two of you just sank into a sexually charged stare-down, both unwilling to budge.

Sasha called your name, snapping you out of it. She came over to let Eddie know what your role was, and encouraged him to let you know if there was anything you could do to help him relax. She finished explaining a few things to him while you brought over a glass of lemon water.

Sasha walked away and he took a sip, keeping his eyes on you over the glass, smirking.

“What?” you mirrored the smirk. “This will be such an easy job for me because I know you rockstars don’t have any problem taking your cocks out and being admired in public.”

“Oh, you know me, huh?” He challenged.

You worked your jaw, pussy clenching, wondering what he looked like out of his robe. “You’re all the same, aren’t you? Arrogant, over-sexed, and too pretty for your own good.”

“Well, you got me on the pretty part,” he winked. “But nah, I’m not a rockstar. I’m just a small-town freak who got lucky and, this has all been fucking overwhelming to tell you the truth.” Eddie was tall, with broad shoulders, and your mouth dried up a little at the tattoos on his forearms that peeked out from under the sleeve of the robe.

You took the glass from him when he was finished. “We have the small town thing in common, at least,” you said with an incline of your head.

It was time to get started, but even as Sasha motioned him over, he paused next to you, so close that the ends of his hair grazed your shoulder. “So, if I can’t get relaxed on my own, then that means you have to help me?” He whispered it, but forcefully, so you could feel his warm breath on the side of your head. You could smell the mix of spearmint and tobacco.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, you swallowed hard as the woodsy spice of his scent hit your nostrils. “I’ll do my best for you, Mr. Munson,” and then you dared to glance up, your breath hitching as he unfastened his robe and lowered it from his shoulders right in front of you, only a few feet away.

You tried not to show emotion because you knew he was watching, but you closed your mouth to keep a yearning mew from escaping. There were tattoos scattered around his defined muscles, but there were also fascinating scars like floral blooms along his neck, chest, and stomach. Your eyes ached to travel down to the V-shape that cut into his hips and the treasure below, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. Not yet anyway.

You were just about to tell him he could keep the robe on until he was comfortable, but he threw the article of clothing over for you to catch. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

Half of the people Sasha photographed were too shy to take the robe off right away, and maybe Eddie would have hesitated in other circumstances, but you had a strange feeling he was doing this for you. If Sasha wasn’t asking him to look at the camera, his eyes were always banking in your direction.

“I think we should try the handcuffs,” Sasha said to the room, but mostly to you.

You made your way over to where the props were, knowing that Eddie’s eyes were keeping pace, and playfully dangled the silver cuffs from your thumb and forefinger as you retrurned, wiggling your eyebrows; a gesture he was happy to return.

“Front or behind?” You asked Sasha.

“Behind for now,” she answered. “You okay with that Mr. Munson?”

“My god,” he chuckled, putting his hands behind his back for you to have easy access to the tender skin of his wrists. “Call me anything but Mr. Munson. Eddie is fine.”

You always tried to keep things very professional, but not only that—you’d been around so many naked bodies, they all started to look the same to you. This was your job, and mostly it never even occurred to you to see the models in a lustful way.. You never let your eyes hover too long on the private parts of your clients; maybe just a glance and that was it. But the job of fastening Eddie’s handcuffs had you taking in the firm structure of his ass like it was a visual last meal.

You stroked your finger a few times in his palm. “Is that too tight?”

The combination of your touch and the way you whispered gave him chills in the best way possible and his fingers flexed, as if trying to reach out for you. “I hope you have a key for these things,” he mumbled.

“I do,” you assured him. “But I’m about to swallow it.”

“Hey,” he hushed over his shoulder before you could walk away. “Should my dick be hard for this?”

You wanted to kiss his arm, you wanted to bite it. Instead, you put your hands together and intertwined your fingers. “Do you want it to be?”

Eddie lowered his chin, voice barely audible. “Are you offering to help, sweetheart?

Sasha took a few more photos as he was, standing to the side, eyes flicking to where you stood behind Sasha’s shoulder. When it was time for you to take the handcuffs off, Eddie stretched his hands, turning to face front. “No chick wants to look at a flaccid dick when they buy magazines like this,” he announced. “Give me a second to…get ready? If you know what I mean?”

While Sasha and June went out for a smoke break, Eddie put his robe on, and headed for his private dressing room, but he paused in the door and turned to find you. His eyebrows popped up a few times, motioned with his hand down low for you to follow him in. You knew you could lose your job for fornicating with Eddie during a photo shoot, but at that moment, you couldn’t have cared less.

Once you were in, Eddie closed the door and leaned back against it, his robe falling open. He clutched a fist into the front of your overalls, pulling you closer. Your fingertips feathered down the ridges of his scars, thumb caressing over his missing nipple, and he jutted his head forward to meet your mouth, but you were too fast, dropping to your knees to taste his cock, taking your job and his request a bit too seriously.

“Hey wait,” he sank his hand around your throat, guiding you back up to full height. “Kiss me first,” he brushed his lips across yours. “And then you can kill me.”

While the tiny person in charge of your brain ran around inside your skull screaming, your lips met his, tips of tongues introducing each other first, and then echoed moans, opening wide to take each other deeper.

“I know what will get me hard,” he told you in a breathy rush. “Take these off,” he motioned to the overalls you were wearing. “And sit on the counter.”

He walked forward so that you would back up, his hands supporting your waist.

You looked back at the counter top. “But we don’t have much time to—”

“I don’t need much time,” he said, swatting a stool out of his way so it crashed to the ground. “I want you in my mouth.”

You shivered and obeyed, unhooking your overalls, letting them fall to the floor. You were in nothing but a tank top now, ass on the cool edge of the Formica, and he pulled your underwear down your legs, salivating and biting his lip as he did so.

“Fuuuuck, you are so wet,” He pushed your knees wider with his strong arms and sank his tongue into your glistening folds, flicking the nub a few times. “Did you get this wet just for me? Hmmm?”

“Yes Eddie,” you whimpered, bracing yourself on the beige counter next to the vanity, watching him drag his chin all the way up your slit, and then pull and twist his tongue down, darting it into your hole. His eyes met yours again, his mouth latching onto your sweet spot and sucking there. You wrapped your legs over his shoulders and sunk your heels into his back.

His fingers dug into the meat at your hips, his mouth diving deeper, sucking in while his tongue flicked. He reached a hand down between his legs and started stroking himself, getting more and more turned at the way you were gasping and twitching.

You grabbed the top of his head. “Fuckkk Eddie fuck just like that.”

His eyes were closed now while he devoured you, but the look on his face spoke of how seriously he took the task, rolling his tongue and working you in a way that made your eyelids flutter and a choke catch in your throat.

But then there came a knock at the door.

It was Sasha, and thank god she didn’t try the doorknob because you hadn’t locked it in your frenzy to get on Eddie’s joystick. .

“Coming!” You shouted nervously, dropping to your feet, stepping into your underwear and then your overalls.

Eddie sucked in his bottom lip, licking what was left of you from his mouth. He caught your elbow as you were fastening the second clip. “Can we finish this later?”

The way he asked it was almost shy, as if his face hadn’t just been between your thighs. Meanwhile, your engorged pussy was soaking your underwear, begging to be finished. You saw that his chin was still wet from your arousal and whisked some of it away with your thumb.

He bent to let his lips graze at your ear as he closed his robe. “I like the way you taste.”

Back out on the floor, you let Sasha know that Eddie was talking your ear off about something, but that he would be out any second. Sasha and June exchanged a look, mostly in regards to the way the straps of your overalls were all twisted and buttoned wrong, but neither one of them addressed it.

When Eddie came out and took his robe off again, he was hard, rolling his big hand around the head a few more times as he got on the prop bed that was there for the next set. There was a model named Cindy in lingerie there to be in the shots with him, and you felt a jealousy rise in you that didn’t make any sense. It rose so hot in your gut while their mouths hovered inches apart, pretending they were about to kiss, that you had to look away. Every so often, he’d glance over at you while he had his cock in his hand, determined to keep the beast hard, and you wondered if he was thinking about having his tongue inside of you.

Because, you were definitely thinking about it. You took a little private time around the corner just to touch yourself through your denim, working your fingers at your core, wondering if you should just finish yourself off and be done with it just as Sasha finally called for another smoke break.

You tried not to be too obvious, casually strolling back to Eddie’s dressing room, making sure the model Cindy was comfortable and fetching her the sparkling water she asked for while Love Bites by Judas Priest played on the radio.

Eddie was already in there waiting, yanking you inside by the wrist so he could lock the door, planting hot, hungry kisses down along your neck.

You dropped your overalls like they were on fire, caressing his hard length in a way that made him moan. “I need you so fucking bad,” you breathed, pulling your tank top up and over your head so that you could be flush with his skin, to feel the ridges of his scars. “That last set was almost two hours,” you were still talking as he backed you further into the room. “How is your cock still hard?”

His fingers slipped down through your folds and he hissed at the way you were dripping. “Just the thought of this, sweetheart.”

There was a floral couch against the wall and when your calves met with it, you plopped down into the cushion and Eddie followed, knees to the wood floor, wrapping his arm around your thighs to take your sweet bud into his mouth again, teasing it with his nose first.

“Fuck fuck Eddie, I’m already so close,” you took a fistful of his beautiful hair, careful not to mess it up too bad and bucked against his mouth. “You’re so good, I love it when your tongue fucks me.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing, needing more, and that was when two of his fingers slid in, the ones with the chunky metal rings, they stretched you out suddenly, making you curse with pleasure. Eddie zig-zagged his tongue rapid fire over your clit, groaning at the way your hole gripped his fingers. His cock was leaking pre-cum and he thrust his hips into the couch as he felt your walls begin to ripple.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum…so hard….” the orgasm seemed to snap your body in two, pulsing a waves of pleasure up your spine, making your mouth freeze open on a sharp inhale. And then you were babbling, “cummincumming so hard, Eddie!”

“Turn over,” he demanded in a deep voice once you were able to catch your breath. “I need to clean you up.”.

And so you got on your knees facing the wall and held onto the back of the couch, trembling at the way he spread your cheeks and lapped you up all along your drenched slit.

“We’re ready if you are!” Sasha called from out in the studio making you spin around.

“Oh shit,” you breathed, looking down at how swollen and ready his cock was. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“I can wait, sweetheart,” he mumbled, standing to pull his robe back on and offer you his hand, tossing his hair back over his shoulder.

By the time the photo shoot was over, Eddie would’ve been edging his release for over 4 hours, and he didn’t seem phased at all about it.

It was time for the handcuffs again. Eddie wanted a cigarette, and Sasha encouraged him to have it in a seat by the window and she’d get a few shots of him there. He held his wrists close together in front of him while you secured the cool metal, his chocolate orbs fixed on your face. He liked how your fingers quivered as you cuffed him, and his erection had finally softened enough to not be obnoxious, but it was still making your mouth dry up with desire.

He wanted to light the cigarette himself, so you passed him the lighter. He spread his legs, hitching one heel up on the leg of the chair, exposing the patch of hair at the base of his cock and around his balls

“That’s perfect,” Sasha told him, finger tapping on the shutter button, producing a blast of fast clicks..

You glanced up at the clock, knowing your time with Eddie would be over soon. Cindy the model could’ve gone home, but she’d decided to stay and wait to watch the rest of Eddie’s shoot, her eyes sparkling with lust. Maybe she would be the one to get Eddie off and not you. She was physically more what you assumed his “type” would be since, in your mind, all rock stars were the same.

You didn’t have to wonder for long which woman he’d rather fuck, because he was eyeballing you from across the room as he put his robe on and said a few last words to Sasha. The dressing room door was hidden around the corner and down the hall, but you decided not to follow him straight in like you had the last two times; your carnal needs were making you sloppy. This time, you went out into the stairwell to the back entrance and knocked, hoping he would get the hint because it only opened from the inside. Eddie pushed it open with a hard metal clank, and then your hands were in his hair, and wordlessly the two of you fell into each other. He was doing the work of unfastening your overalls while you were coherent enough to ask about condoms and he presented a string of them out of the pocket of his robe.

“You came prepared,” you stumbled over your clothes, yanking your shirt off as you went.

“Nah,” Eddie cocked his head. “I had my gofer bring me these. The guy is quick.”

“How do you want me?” You kissed down his chest, flicking his one salty nipple with your tongue, making him groan.

He ripped one of the condoms off the pack and tore it open with his teeth, and then spat the paper edge out. “I need to be able to see your face,” he crashed his nose against yours diving in for another kiss.

“Sit,” you told him, urging him back into the wooden chair in the corner of the room. It was right next to a full length mirror so he could watch you fuck him from the side if he wanted to. There were no arms on the chair, and he complied, licking his lips, eager for whatever you had in mind while he rolled the condom on.

You kicked your leg over him like you were mounting your motorcycle and sat your hungry, soaking hole down on the tip of his cock. Eddie took hold of your hips and guided you down, releasing one long moan as you went. You whined, coming down flush with his lap, his cock stretching you out in a way no one ever had before, settling yourself first before you began to move. You pushed up from the balls of your feet, riding him, and Eddie clamped a hand onto each of your ass cheeks, creating a rhythm, using his strong arms to help lift and lower you.

Your foreheads came together as you moved, hard nipples grazing his chest. You watched him grit his teeth and gasp. “Damn, you’re so tight. I’m close, I’m so fucking…close,” he bit out.

Your clit rubbed against his patch of hair as you worked, and it wasn’t long before you began to hiccup with the contraction of your own release. Never in your life had you cum this soon and this close together. “You’re gonna make me cum again, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” He pulled his head back. “Look at me.”

You met his eyes as you bounced, his hips snapping up to meet you every time you bottomed out.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, finding the yearning in his stare too much to handle. “Like, right now, right…fuck, Eddie I’m cumming!” Your head dropped to his shoulder while the tremors rolled through you, walls squeezing his cock, making his toes curl and his hips jerk erratically, the chair legs squeaking from his weight.

He held you flush to him, his release hot and plentiful; so much so, he might’ve worried about the integrity of the condom if he hadn’t been so pussy drunk on the way your hole was still clenching him like a fist. You locked your chest to his and he caged you with his arms, locking you there.

Your knees threatened to turn to butter and betray you as you dismounted the ride of your life, both of you finding the footing to scramble around and retrieve your clothes. Eddie could stay in the dressing room as long as he wanted, but you? You were only a shell of the employee you normally were that day and you feared that Sasha was probably coming to look for you at that moment, ready to tell you to take a hike.

Eddie pulled his shirt down over his head, adjusting it over his jeans and flipped his hair from out of the collar. You snapped the first buckle on your overalls and gave him a tilt of your head. “Hey stranger, I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on,” and then you fixed yourself in the mirror quickly before planting one more kiss on him on your way to bolt for the door.

“Hey, wait,” he called out, making you turn around. “Is that it? This is goodbye?”

Eddie Munson was a beautiful rockstar. Eddie Munson was in music videos on MTV. Eddie Munson could have any woman he wanted in the world, single or taken, and so no---you hadn’t expected more to come from this. You thought maybe he had a new fuck for every day of the week and you just happened to fall into his lap at the right time when he was bored and had some time to kill.

“Did you need anything else?” You asked it in your professional assistant voice, your work voice, and put your hands in your pockets to patiently wait.

He sat down on the couch to put his Converse on, absorbed in his task as he spoke to you. “My hotel is just up the street. Are you busy tonight? We could have dinner. Anything you want, my guys will get it for us.”

“I’m busy tonight,” you lied.

“What about tomorrow?” He pushed, tying the next shoe. “I wanna hear more about this small town you grew up in. I’ve really been missing home lately.”

You softened. “I refuse to believe you are anything but a spoiled city boy.”

He stood to his full height, stretching his chest, and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, giving you a shrug and a familiar smirk. “Just think about all the ways I could prove you wrong if you came to hang out with me tonight. I might even surprise you.”

You got all awkward for a bit, fighting with yourself over why you weren’t on your knees begging for this man. Regardless of your silence, he found an old receipt for a tin of mini mart pretzels in his pocket and wrote his room number and hotel on it.

Passing it to you pinched between his two fingers, he added without meeting your gaze, “I’d really like to see you again.”

But then Sasha was calling for you, needing help with equipment, and you were scurrying out of the room with your heart in your throat.

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. “Crab Rangoon?”

Eddie scoffed. “What did you call me?” He was jutting his arms up into the sleeves of his leather jacket when you favored him a glance over you shoulder.

You swiveled to face him and made a circular gesture with your hand as if the implication was universally understood. “If there happens to be some crab Rangoon at your hotel tonight, I will stop by.”

Eddie’s face was blank, totally unreadable for a few seconds, and then a smile teased at the corners of his mouth, crept across his face, and jumped to his eyes. He gave a nod, “crab Rangoon it is then.”

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#playgirl!Eddie #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie munson one shot #rockstar!eddie munson #90sau #eddie munson x reader

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krscblw · 2 years

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you will wear your independence like a crown

based on le génie du mal

#the band ghost #ghost bc #fanart #ghost fanart #the band ghost fanart #papa emeritus iii #papa 3 #terzo #tw:blood

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bantarleton · 6 months

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Who Wants a Non-Hessian German Troops of the American Revolution Uniform Identification Flow Chart?

Now you too can roleplay as a harried British staff officer trying to identify which troops are encamped where, or a devious rebel spy collecting intelligence.

As folks may or may not know, only roughly 50% of the German state troops who served the British Crown during the American Revolution were “Hessians” from Hesse-Cassel. There were six other states that provided “subsidy troops.” Here’s how to tell them apart at a glance.

Are their uniforms predominantly dark blue? If yes, go to the paragraph numbered 4. If no, go to the para numbered 2.

2. Are their uniforms predominantly white? If no, go to the para numbered 3. If yes, those are troops from Anhalt-Zerbst. The only German state involved in the war to take its uniform and organisational cues from Austria rather than Prussia, the single Anhalt-Zerbst line regiment deployed to America wore white regimental coats faced with red. Their grenadiers wore bearskins rather than metal-faced caps (the only other German state to do this was Waldeck). One battalion also, according to one shocked British officer, had one of the most outrageous-looking uniforms of the war, including hussar hats, red and yellow waist sashes and red cloaks - these may have been “pandour” irregulars from the edges of the Austrian empire.

3. The coats are neither white nor blue, so they must be red. In this case, the troops are Hanoverian. While still mostly following Prussian style, because they shared a ruler with Britain, Hanoverian troops wore red. Five Hanoverian regiments assisted Britain with vital Mediterranean defence during the American Revolution, before going on to fight in India. They were the only redcoat Germans fighting for the Crown outside the British Army.

4. Your Germans are wearing blue coats. Are the buttons on the coat lapels arranged 1-2-1, and do the cuffs have a “Swedish” style slit to them? If no, go to the para numbered 5. If yes, they’re from Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel. Brunswick provided the most soldiers after Hesse-Cassel, and arguably the most rounded force, with four line regiments, one dragoon regiment, one grenadier battalion and one light infantry battalion. But whether jäger, musketeers or grenadiers, they almost all had coat buttons in groups of 1-2-1 and the slit-style cuffs. Fun fact; the Brunswick crest of a racing white horse on a red field was the same as neighbouring Hanover’s.

5. Your Germans are wearing blue, but don’t have buttons in 1-2-1 and Swedish cuffs. Do they have yellow facings, and cuffs with buttons placed both horizontally and vertically? If no, go to the para numbered 6. If yes, they are from Waldeck. This German state usually provided troops for the Dutch, but raised a new unit, the 3rd English-Waldeck Regiment, for service in America. They mostly fought against the Spanish in the Deep South, where they were decimated by disease. If the unusual position of the buttons on the cuff isn’t enough, look for the belt plate bearing “FF” for “Fuerst Friedrich,” the state’s ruler.

6. Do your blue Germans have red facings, cocked hats and unusual lace on their coats, shaped like a figure-of-eight? If no, go to the para numbered 7. If yes, they’re from Hesse-Hanau. This state was closely related (in the sense of its ruler, literally) to Hesse-Cassel, yet remained independent. While it provided a small amount of artillery, jägers and freikorps light infantry, its main contribution was a single line regiment, Erbprinz. Their distinctive features were scalloped lace on their cocked hats and the figure-of-eight “Brandenburg” style lace. There was also a Hesse-Cassel Regiment Erbprinz (even sharing the same colonel-in-chief), but they were fusiliers with caps rather than the Hesse-Hanau musketeers with their cocked hats. Check the mistake made by this artwork - these are Hesse-Hanau soldiers from the Infanterie Regiment Erbprinz, but they’re wearing Cassel fusilier caps. Bonus fact; Hanau and Cassel’s crest both features a rampant lion with red and white stripes, but there are subtle differences - they face opposite directions, the style of stripes are slightly different, and the Hanau lion lacks the Cassel one’s crown, but does wield a sword.

7. Do your blue-coated Germans have a black eagle on their flags and grenadier cap plates? If no, they’re probably from Hesse-Cassel. If yes, they’re from Ansbach-Bayreuth. This German state consisted of two provinces, Ansbach and Bayreuth (funny that). Besides jägers and some battalion guns, their main contribution was two infantry regiments, one from each of the two provinces. Their ruler’s crest was a black eagle, similar to the Prussian one.

Of course these posts don’t account for the uniforms of the jäger corps, or musicians, or any artillery, but it can serve as a rough guide. For the proper detail, you’ll have to buy my forthcoming book on the topic!

Also would be pretty cool if someone made an actual flow chart out of this, just saying!

#hessian #hessians #german #germany #german army #german military #18th century #history #military history #american revolution #revwar #american war of independence

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tarotwithavi · 1 year

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What will your future spouse love about you?

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Pile 1

I don't know why but I'm hearing "cuz you're pretty and smart and you're ignoring me, you're just my type". But one thing is for sure that you might not notice them when you first encounter them even when they are very attractive. You'll be very ignorant to them. This is not intentional from your side because you're always on your phone or just always have headphones on. They are going to be obsessed with you to the point where all they can think about is you. And you'll definitely enjoy it ( ( ͡°з ͡°) so you find Yanderes cool huh? ) They'll definitely love personality . How kind you are to others and how you're always willing to participate in charity. You don't discriminate against people and treat everyone equally and that my love is flattering. You have a lot of knowledge and a lot of things to talk about. You carry a lot of random facts with yourself and always have information about everything. Like you just KNOW everything. Sexy brain of yours. And your motherly energy . You're very attractive in their eyes just like a fairy/goddess. And they are ready to treat you like one. If you have tanned or dark skin they love it. Your skin color is very hot to themthem for some reason. And I'm also getting hair. They just LOVE your hair.

Some messages that might resonate : artist, paintings, scorpio, herbs, books, number 9 , ocean or any water body, sunrise, Capricorn, black kitten or cat and fire sign.

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Pile 2

Your dominance lol that's what they'll love about you. You're very bossy and sassy and they'll love it! Like when you tell them not to or to do something, when you order them. They love it when you get annoyed or angry. You may think that you look very intimidating when you're mad or something but to them you like a kitten. Cute. You try to look intimidating and cunning but in reality you're just a fluffball. I'm getting that you have a funny victory dance or something you do when you're happy and they love it! Also one thing is that you look otherworldly to them. Like you have a very unique and exotic beauty. You look very different from your family. Sjsjsjsj they'll loveeee your chest area it's just so squishy to them sjsjjjsjsjs. They might be from a different country and culture so they'll love it when you'll wear your traditional clothes . Like if you're from korea they'll love it when you'll wear hanbok Or it could be vise versa.

Some things that might resonate : yellow, blue and white colors , Leo, Taurus, Egypt, flower crown, blonde, eagle

My masterlist

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Pile 3

Everything. EVERYTHING. You have a sexy brain. You're extremely gorgeous. That's it. It's your intelligence. I'm getting that you might be attracted to pile 1 . They'll love your Independent and unbiased judgement . And how you respect other people's boundaries and how you have a direct way ot communicating. They'll love your Energy And how passionate your are. You'll inspire them a lot. They'll love your generosity. Like how you're always ready to cut people off when they try to harm you and how you have your boundaries clear. Like how you're always having transformations and always evolving. You are good at everything and know a lot of things. Like you have every single trait that they want in a partner. You're like their desired person. This might be a past life relationship and this can be your second life . You attract a lot of opportunities and your work for yourself. That's what they love. Girlboss.

Some things that might resonate : drinking together, fingers hearts , sleep or night time, waxing moon, winter, snow, yoga.

My masterlist

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When I was a kid I loved Raven and wanted to be like her. Now I don't know if I'm gay or just haven't found my beastboy yet ;)

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months

Text

His Silly Princess | Bucky (Oneshot)

Character: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Words Count: 1,671

Summary: A modern royal love story. A naive princess who wants to get away from an arranged marriage. She never knew that her guard had loved her since the beginning.

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Zylovia is a country where monarchy still exists. It’s a developed country located near Western Europe.

It’s a prosperous country, and the number of unemployed is also the lowest. Tourists love coming here for the casino, race car, and music festival.

But this country has one outdated rule. It didn’t apply to the citizens. Only for the royal family.

“If the female royal member marries a commoner, she will lose her status."

You learned that rule when you were 12 years old as the youngest siblings and Princess Zylovia. You didn't put a deep thought into it.

But now, when you are almost 30 years old, and your older siblings are already married, you think this is good for you.

Because you realize you’re not fit to do the duty as a princess.

Your oldest brother has prepared since he was a kid to be the king. When he reaches the age of 40, he will be crowned as the king. Your second brother will be the second commander in the military.

While you have a job as a painting conservator at the museum, your duty as a princess is to welcome the official foreign guest at the castle. You learned some languages, but you’re not allowed to give any opinion on politics.

You don’t hate being a royal, but sometimes you feel like living in a golden cage.

And finally, you had enough because, on your recent birthday, your parents talked to you about marriage.

The king and queen don’t want to be separated from their youngest daughter, but they hint that they wish for her future husband from the royal circle. In other words: arranged marriage.

You clenched your jaw while smiling at your parents. If the man from the royal circle is a real gentleman, you wouldn’t mind.

But the problem is, please pardon the harsh language; none of the men from the royal family are your type.

Your type of man must have a stable job, look good in suits, and have a nice body.

That’s why, for a couple of days, you’ve made a list of potential future husbands. After you write it, you realize most of the men are from the knights. Perhaps because you always went to meet your second brother at the military training ground, so you know some people.

Steve Rogers

[Friendly, not married, nerd, loves to paint like me]

Ari Levinson

[Funny, beautiful hair, handsome]

‘Knock, knock!’ Suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

“Come in.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You have known him for years, and your ears are familiar with the sound of his footsteps.

The person who walked into your room has been your exclusive bodyguard for years - James Barnes, but you always call him Bucky his nickname.

Bucky is a commoner and an elite soldier. If there’s a shooting competition, he will be in the top three. Your second brother always hates him.

He has received many medals of honors, but he rejects a knight title from your father. You don’t understand why he declined the offer. If he received it, he could enter politics, and he doesn’t have to follow her around anymore.

He’s tall, handsome, with perfect blue eyes and has fine muscles on his body. Bucky also has a primarily female fanbase when he wears the military uniform and rides a horse at the independence ceremony.

He became a celebrity overnight.

But you have never seen or heard any rumor about him with a woman.

“Your highness, in two hours you are going to attend the tennis tournament.”

You dropped the pen and dropped your head to the table. “Urgh. Do I have to?”

Bucky chuckled when he saw you unwilling to go. One thing you hate about your duty is to be the guest at the tennis game. You prefer to watch the race car, but it's reserved for your brother's.

Even though you didn’t want to go, you still dragged your feet to the dressing room to grab your coat.

When you were searching for the right outfit, you suddenly remembered. “Oh no!” You didn’t hide the potential list that you just wrote. You wish you could dig your own grave and disappear.

And you were right; Bucky saw your writing. He furrowed his eyebrows while he read your paper. “What’s this? Potential man for marriage?”

You stand beside him; you don’t know why you feel scared. This is the first time you have seen him like this.

His slender, pointed fingers scratched the two names with his nails. There’s a big X on your paper.

“Don’t marry any of those men.”

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on his lips, along with a soft voice, “Steve hasn’t moved on from his last girlfriend, and Ari, he loves to drink alcohol. I know you hate the smell of alcohol.”

You felt disappointed; you crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

“Marriage? Why all of a sudden?” There's an annoyed tone in his voice.

You rubbed your head and muttered, “I need to get married sooner, or my parents will arrange marriage for me, their friend's kid. And you know the truth, I had enough of being a princess.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “But, why them?”

“What?”

He clenched his fist; Bucky stared at her with an annoyed expression. “Why didn't you put me on the list?”

“....”

You waved your hand. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I got married.”

“So, would you like to marry me?”

Are you having hallucinations? Did Bucky just propose to you?

Bucky got on his knees. “Let’s get married.”

You still haven’t come to your senses. Bucky started talking again. “Think about it. Both of us have known each other for a long time. We’ve known each other's likes and dislikes. We’ve been through many things together.”

He’s right. He’s the safest choice if you want to marry someone. You shrugged your shoulders and accepted his hand. “Alright.”

Bucky's beautiful smile appeared on his face. Before he shook your hand, he felt you slightly pull his hand. When you saw him smile, your heart raced. “But, if in the end, we don’t like each other, please wait after three years, then we could get a divorce.”

Bucky chuckled; his attractiveness is not just in his physical appearance but also in his ability to manage his emotions gracefully and restraintfully. He leaned closer to you, and his hands gently grabbed your chin.

As his calloused hand touched your skin, a subtle warmth spread on your cheeks. You could feel you're blushing. “Silly girl, it will never happen.”

#######

[Bucky P.O.V]

Then he rests your arms on his. “Then you have the excuse to skip the tournament.”

“Hmm?”

“We should inform this first to His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

“Oh, right.” You nodded, then looked straight into his blue eyes again. “This soon?”

********

When both of you walk through the hallway to meet the King and Queen, Bucky tries his best to calm down. He almost lost his common sense when he saw you write another man's name, and there’s a word of ‘potential husband.’

He looks at you and thinks ‘his silly princesses didn’t realize his feelings for her.’

Didn’t she know he declined the offer to be a knight so he could be her guard?

If he became a knight, he would work with her second brother. That’s the last thing he wants to do.

“So, Bucky, don’t worry about money. When I resign as a princess, the kingdom will give us money.”

Bucky chuckled, seeing his sweet princess worried about their future, “That’s so sweet of you. But you don’t need to worry about that.” He gently patted her arms. He wants to tell you that he owns the famous casino in this kingdom and 5-star hotel chains in a few countries.

When both of you are married, Bucky will ensure you don’t have to work anymore. He is pretty sure that her parents will give their blessings even though he’s a commoner (and he’s super rich). The royal family has outdated rules, but because of it, he could marry you.

Both of you arrived at the king's office room. The guards bowed their heads to greet you. Then you said, “Princesses Y/N and her guard. Wait… and her future husband, James Barnes wants to meet the king.”

The guards and the butler who opened the door lost their composure. They should have known from your body language walking here together hand in hand when usually Bucky always stands behind you.

This news is shocking compared to the crown prince, who got caught partying too hard and the second prince, who had a messy love life before he got married.

It seems like your father, the King, hears your voice. Before the castle butler tells him, you hear the gentle voice, “Come in.”

########

[2 years later]

It's the biggest headline in the country after you gave birth. You feel overwhelmed; you can't believe that you're parents now.

The King and Queen hold your oldest son, while Bucky has the youngest son in his arms.

Bucky's eyes are full of love, looking both at his sons. He was almost scared to death since you gave birth one month early. But the doctor assured both of you this is normal since you're pregnant with twins.

Even though you're not a princess, you're still surrounded by your family.

And Bucky still treats you like a princess. You almost lost your mind when he told you his business, which turned into your parents, and your brothers already know it, too.

You want to knock your head; you didn't even know Bucky's business helped increase the country's GDP.

Everyone said Bucky was the lucky guy to marry the former princess, but they were wrong. It's you who is lucky to marry him.

-End-

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#bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bodyguard!bucky #bodyguard!bucky x princess!reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

10:35

Ruhn Danaan x Fem!Reader

Summary - After throwing his weight around, Ruhn comes to you to apologise, but you have other plans.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of s*x, Ruhn being fed up with your crap but loving you anyway, angst, fluff

Gods.

Gods were you annoying. You pushed his buttons daily, teetering on the edge of driving him to madness before pulling him back with passionate kisses.

Gods did he hate you sometimes, but he loved you more than anything, more than anyone.

Especially when you were prancing about his place wearing nothing but a thong and one his shirts that barely fell past your ass cheeks. Usually Ruhn was delighted to come home to you, you'd usually be sat with Tristan watching Sunball and enjoying a few beers; he'd come up behind you and bury his head into the crook of your neck and inhale your scent before kissing your shoulder and jumping over the edge to settle in beside you.

He knew it was coming, your bold defiance, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Ruhn looked at his phone, frowning at your text exchange and wondering how it had gotten so heated. He had told you off, scolded you like a child for partying too hard with Bryce and neglecting your responsibilities. Ruhn knew better.

Everyone was allowed to let loose, to enjoy their shitty lives, Ruhn knew that better than anyone.

You hated being told what to do, it had taken so long for Ruhn to break that cycle in you, to idly agree to everything even if you didn't want to. Breaking that cycle had turned you strong and independent, you promised yourself that you'd never be controlled again. In public at least.

He hadn't meant it, he hadn't meant to belittle you and reprimand you, he certainly didn't mean to throw his title in your face and make you feel like you were worth less than he was. It had just gotten heated, and he hoped he could fix it before you truly believed that he felt that way.

So, when he entered the home that he shared with Tristan and Declan, and you, ready to apologise and fuck you so good that the exchange became a hazed memory, the last thing he ever thought he'd see was you dressed in the things you knew made him weak, sat beside Tristan in a glazed state with potent smoke curling around your mouth as you exhaled a grey cloud of mirthroot into the air.

The smile on you face was lazy, laced with complete relaxation, soft low giggles emitted from your lips, your lids were slightly squinted and your cheeks were swollen from past tears, flushed and tinged.

A bowl of popcorn was wedged in the space between you and Tristan, which was a good thing, because if it wasn't there Ruhn would have grabbed Tristan by the scruff of his neck and beat him into oblivion. The tv was set to a comfortable volume, Fangs and Bangs clear on the display, and the light illuminated your face, the small whisps of hair that had fallen from your messily thrown together updo, and the sports logo plastered to the front of that shirt.

Tristan noticed him first, that hazed giddiness that Ruhn knew all too well clear on his face, "Look who's here. It's none other than the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae himself," Tristan drawled and you turned slowly, your senses dimmed and mind moving at five miles an hour.

Your expression was blank as you looked at him, scanned his ripped black jeans and black shirt, his hair was tied back with two thick slices framing his face, he tongued the piercing in his lip, and his stare would have made you feel uncomfortable if you weren't already on another planet entirely.

"Fangs and Bangs? Didn't realise you were into this crap, Tristan," Ruhn took a step toward you, hissing at himself when you abruptly turned back to face the tv, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Tristan inhaled the mirthroot deeply, a cough catching in his chest before the smoke cloud spurted from his mouth, he wafted the smoke away from his face and Ruhn watched it rise to the heavens, "I didn't put this shit on. This is all, Y/N."

"Give me that," you held you hand out to him, Tristan delicately placed your shared pleasure between your fingers, "I'll have you know that Fangs and Bangs is perfect for high-time television," you blew a smoke cloud at Tristan's face and smirked, lying back into the comfort of the sofa, not caring where Ruhn went next.

You were furious with him. How dare he take a swipe at you for going out, and with Bryce of all people, when he spent many hours away from you partying through the night. How dare he talk about responsibility and throw his name around to grasp some form of submission from you.

The cushions shifted under a new weight, you were determined not to look at him, to not give in, but as soon as those calloused fingers found your thigh and squeezed, you were weak. Like putty in his hands.

"Sweetheart," he cooed to you, dragging his fingers up and down your bare thigh, making you regret wearing so little as his fingertips left speckles of fire hissing on your skin. "Please look at me," his voice was low and husky, he didn't want Tristan to hear his whispering pleads to you or forever be teased.

Shrugging his touch off of you, involuntarily shuddering at vacant spot where his hand lay only moments before, you felt your phone vibrate, the screen lighting up with Bryce's name.

"What's up?" Ruhn tensed, of course Bryce would swoop in and interrupt his shit attempts to apologise to you, "Yeah, he's here. I don't know. What? Now?" Ruhn faintly heard his sisters voice chattering away through the device, he noticed your frown turn into mischievous delight, "What a great idea, Bryce. Exactly what I need, I'll see you soon. Love you."

You put the phone down and sighed, "Out again?"

Smirking, you jumped up from the sofa and walked around the edge of the sofa where a bewildered Ruhn was staring up at you, "Yep. White Raven. Bryce is coming to pick me up so I better get ready."

Without another word, you sauntered from the room, leaving Ruhn with his angry swirling thoughts. Tristan whistled, pulling Ruhn's attention from the doorway you had just strutted out from, "This is what happens when you pull rank with the one person you know loves you for you and nothing else."

Twenty minutes had passed, Bryce had barged in and flipped Ruhn off with a death glare before pattering up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. They had listened to your hushed giggles and shuffling about on the floor above, turning toward the entry when the faint click of heels sounded against the bare wood.

There you were, clad in a skin tight black dress adorned by a thousand tiny crystals that shimmered in an array of shades when you hit the light at a certain angle. Pair that with a pair of knee high heeled boots, and you had officially succeeded in making Ruhn a needy worried mess. Your makeup was simple, radiant shimmers on your cheekbones and nose, eyeliner and long lashes, and glossed nude lips.

Bryce ran her fingers through your hair, separating any knots she found and fluffing it around your face, "Let's go. Fury and Juniper are waiting for us. Girl's night!" Ruhn's amber eyed sister, and one of your best friends, dragged you from the room without so much as a goodbye to the two males staring at them from in front of the tv.

The White Raven was thrumming with eclectic energy. Sweat evaporating and clinging to the air.

You couldn't remember what time you had left, you didn't know how long you'd be dancing. You didn't know how many shots Bryce had forced down your throat. You were just happy and free.

Ruhn had looked so desperate to touch you, those big pleading violet eyes screaming at you to look at him. You knew he had a lot on his plate, his father didn't exactly agree of your relationship but Ruhn had somehow been able to convince him that when the time came you'd be the perfect person to have beside him. It made you feel bad, he was just trying to protect you in a way, to secure your place beside him, and you'd pranced about in your underwear high as a kite before dressing up and heading out. Again.

Gods, you were so fucking stupid.

But you didn't let your regret show, you were too stubborn for that, a fact Ruhn knew far too well.

Bodies kept on bumping into you as the music became heavier, the bass louder, the drinks stronger. Bryce was holding onto you and swaying, muttering about how Hunt wouldn't be happy with her if she woke him up again. Apparently he'd had a long day. Just like Ruhn.

Running your hands through your hair and up to the sky, you felt arms wrap around your waist, that familiar nose and chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Spice and leather. Kisses peppered along your shoulder and his arms pulled you tighter into his chest, low growls flowing from his lips when people bumped into you.

The lights were low, slices of purple and blue flickering through the club, but you could faintly make out Tristan at the bar and Hunt swaying with Bryce. They'd crashed girls night.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he ran a finger up your arm, across your chest, and along your jaw, pulling your chin toward him, "There she is," he cooed, pushing your hair from your face so that he could really see you.

"What do you want, Ruhn? You've already crashed girls night," you huffed, folding your arms over you chest whilst the world continued to party around you.

You were never going to be able to refuse him, but you could at least make him grovel a bit.

Ruhn ducked his head, lowering it to meet your eye line, he was so intoxicating, everything inside of you screamed to reach for him, to drag him into a bathroom stall and fuck it all out.

"I'm so sorry," he told you, holding your stare, "I never should have gotten angry at you, I never should have tried to tell you what to do. We worked so hard to get you out of that headspace," he pulled you flush against his chest and tilted your head up, his breath fanned across your face, "I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much." Ruhn was trying to control himself, you deserved an apology before he fucked you senseless and made you his over and over again.

"I had the worst day. My father is breathing down my neck right now, and I just want you safe and by my side for the rest of my life. It's stupid but I'm scared he'll try and take you away from me. Not like I'd ever let him but, I'm afraid he'll catch wind of the wild nights and think you're unworthy. You're not in any sense, you love me for me and I know nothing else matters to you, I know that. I'm sorry I let him get in my head, I'm so sorry I used my name against you, I wasn't thinking."

Those violet pools were desperate, glazed over and sad, and it broke you to see him like that.

"Ruhn," you pressed your forehead to his, brushing your nose against his, "I'm sorry too. I should have kept in mind how important this is to you. I'm sorry for being stubborn and trying to piss you off. I know you'd never want to make me feel small. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"Ruhn-"

"Nothing," he hummed, pulling your face to his in a kiss you had shared so many times, full of so much love and yearning and hope that every day would be filled with them. "Plus, it was kinda hot seeing you in my shirt like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he laughed against your lips, deepening the next and relishing in the taste of you, "Let me take you home, Sweetheart. The things I want to do to you aren't to be heard by others."

Ruhn Danaan knew three things with absolute certainty:

That you were the most beautiful, fearless creature he'd ever encountered

That he couldn't wait to get you home and settle you onto his face

He knew that the morning would be the perfect time to grab that velvet emerald box from his sock drawer and promise to love you for eternity

#fanfiction #imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #bryce quinlan #bryce x hunt #hunt athalar #tristan flynn #crescent city imagine #crescent city

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saltwaterburns · 9 months

Text

everyone adores you (at least i do)

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who makes possibly the best morning pancakes in London, just for you.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is impossible to go to Tesco with, for he will slowly slip things into the trolley, going unnoticed by you until you reach the check-out.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who likes to sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, murmuring sweet nothings.

"You look so pretty, why're you in the kitchen? Tell Lucy or George to come downstairs and come be with me :("

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who had the hardest time letting his walls down for you, but when you held him as he cried, the little boy in him finally felt safe.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who never ever forgets to remind you how cherished you are by him.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who acts annoyed whenever you wear his coat, but the butterflies in his tummy say otherwise.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who acts all grown up and independent, often times rejecting your help, forgetting he is just a boy.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who gets excited whenever you ask about the artifacts cluttering the shelves of his home.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who hates pickles, yet still orders his cheeseburger WITH them, so he can give them to you.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who would rather sacrifice himself for you than think of a plan where everyone (including him) is safe.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who undoubtedly falls for you more and more every time he sees you bonding with Lucy or George.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who had to be convinced for MONTHS just so you could style his hair.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who was pleasantly surprised when you told him you preferred his dark eyes over any light ones.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who swears he hears wedding bells in his head when you start making him fresh orange juice every morning.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who comes into your room one evening and asks if you could put rainbow butterfly clips into his hair.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who pouts like a child when you usher him out of your room where you and Lucy are painting each others nails and gossiping.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who groans dramatically when you tell him all the experiments you've done with the skull along with George

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is the master of rizz jokes.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who every year on your birthday gifts you a piece of jewellery his mother used to adore.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who is strangely good at making flower crowns.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who falls asleep by the tv, his head on your lap.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who insists you cuddle him inside his shirt.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who loves being the big spoon.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who always takes you out to fancy pancy restaurants.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who doesn't really want to let you out on missions, not because he thinks you can't handle it (because you can), but because he is terrified at the thought of you getting hurt.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who insists that you guys need a dog in this house.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who isn't very keen on nicknames, but loves it when you call him Anthony in the middle of the night.

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD who tastes like fresh mint and sweet peach whenever you kiss him.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #anthony bloody lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle x reader #george karim x reader #george cubbins #lucy carlyle #george karim #quill kipps x reader #lockwood netflix #lockwood x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #ghosts #the screaming staircase #the whispering skull

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sunnybeewriting · 1 year

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For What It's Worth

Hi guys! I did my best with being accurate, there’s just so much information that it’s hard to sort through it all, and I took some creative liberties with the location of High Camp. That being said, I really hope you guys like it. Please leave a like or comment if you do, they really make my day!

WORD COUNT: 9,291

WARNINGS: Mild blood and fear

You and Tuk are out playing when things take a turn for the worse.

You hiss softly as the blade you’re using to cut up fruit nicks the tip of your finger. A bead of red appears as you hold it closer to your face for inspection, making sure the cut wasn’t deep. The blood red contrasts nicely against the blue of your skin.

You lower your finger once you are satisfied and huff, irritated more than you usually would be at making such a small mistake.

If you’re being honest with yourself, there was no real reason you were in such a bad mood. Perhaps it was the dreary weather that had engulfed High Camp these past few days. Perhaps it was just usual teenage woe. Either way, your mood was starting to go downhill.

You stuff a slice of the fruit into your mouth, suddenly ravenous as you walk around the perimeter of where your people had sought refuge from the Sky People. It’s something you like to do when you are bored or simply want to be alone with your thoughts.

It was nice to just drift around and take in the breathtaking beauty of your home and people. Watching parents chase their little children around, smelling food cooking, listening to the distant sound of rushing water. It was a good way to take your mind off anything that was troubling you, even when you weren’t sure what that was specifically.

As you round the corner and near the shared tent of your family, you see the faint, tiny form of Tuk tugging on an exasperated Kiri’s hand.

Kiri stays in place, unbothered by the weightless pulling and the frustrated, begging expression on Tuk’s little face. You don’t have to be near them to figure out what they were arguing about.

At this age, all little Tuk wanted to do was follow her older siblings around. She was constantly begging to tag along with Lo’ak and Neteyam as they practiced shooting their bows, even when they warned her it would be boring. She followed Kiri around as much as she could, always talking.

Her pout and big, round eyes were a weakness of every family member, so she usually got her way. Luckily, regularly letting her do what she wanted had never made her spoiled; she was just as sweet and soft-hearted as she was as a baby.

Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam were in the beginnings of their own teenage years, which meant they were ‘too cool’ to have their younger sister hanging around them all the time. They were sweet kids, kind and playful with the youngest member of the family, but they still wanted their own independence.

You understood; you had been the same way when you were their age.

Now, though, you certainly didn’t mind the company of any of your younger siblings. As a result, Tuk spent most of her time with you when she wasn’t with Mom. You would walk around the forest with her, singing little tunes and playing games.

You like to make flower crowns for the whole family when you were in the forest. The first time you had given one to Dad, he was hesitant to wear it. Lo’ak and Neteyam followed his example, not wanting to wear something their dad disapproved of. After your pleading, though, Dad caved in pretty quick. Now, they wore your crowns with pride around High Camp, as a loving totem from their family.

Spending so much time with a little sibling might have bothered other Na’vi your age, but you really didn’t mind. You had a few friends, but no one you were extremely connected to. You had yet to find anyone you were interested in as a mate, either.

Finding a mate was something your dad often told you to take your time on, usually with a relieved look on his face. It made you laugh every time.

“Hey Tuk, Kiri!” you shout, grabbing their attention. They turn to look at you, and Tuk’s tugging on Kiri’s hand grew even more insistent. This time Kiri relented, even if it was with a roll of her eyes.

They walk towards you, Tuk with a bounce in her step and a grin on her face. She still holds onto Kiri’s hand. Kiri’s tall, slender frame looks large next to Tuk, and she doesn’t have her shawl wrapped around her shoulders for once.

“Took you long enough,” Kiri says, but her tone is far from irritated. “Find anything new?”

She was referring to any rocks, trinkets, or plants you sometimes found on the edges of High Camp. She loved to collect and study them; she had a whole pile of pretty rocks somewhere in the family tent. If the plant you brought back was pretty enough, she would wear it in her hair.

You loved finding things for her; the look on her face when she received something new to examine never failed to make your heart swell.

This time, though, you shake your head. “Nah, nothing special. I thought I saw something shiny in the grass, but it just turned out to be a piece of metal. Sorry, Kiri.”

She shakes her head as well and says, “That’s alright, I have plenty back in the tent. I should probably sort through them, actually.”

Tuk, apparently tired of your boring conversation, leaps up to you and grabs onto your leg.

“Ayviiri, Ayviiri, can we please go look around the forest again? I’m bored, but Kiri doesn’t want to play with me anymore! Or, or we could stay here and play a game? Please?” she begs, drawing out the last ‘please’ with a pout. She leans around your leg and looks up at you with imploring eyes.

Kiri scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been playing with you all day! You’re really just going to dump me like that?”

Tuk sticks her tongue out at Kiri playfully, and Kiri rubs her hand in Tuk’s face just to hear her squeal and jerk away.

You laugh at their play fighting and gently tug Tuk off your leg. Your smile turns mischievous, and you squat, grab Tik around her knees, and throw her right over your shoulder as you stand back up.

The shriek of laughter as she’s lifted high up hurts your sensitive ears, but it makes your smile grow. You start walking closer toward the family tent, Kiri trailing behind you.

Tuk’s tail waves in front of your face and blocks your view a few times, and you’re about to put her down when you feel a small hand grab onto your own vulnerable tail and pull. Your answering shriek is loud enough to make neighboring people jump and glare at you, but none of you care.

You arrive at the tent and set Tuk down. She wobbles a bit as she regains her balance, still giggling. When she straightens up, she points an accusing finger at you and shouts, “Hey! You never answered my question! Can we please go exploring, please? I promise I’ll be good!” Her mouth wobbles and your heart melts.

Damnit, you think. When did I turn into such a softy?

You lower yourself down to her eye level and say, “Alright, alright, we can go out. But only for a few hours, okay?”

Kiri crosses her arms and shakes her head in amusement at your weakness, and you stand up and shrug, as if saying ‘what can you do?’.

Tuk’s answering cheer is enough to make the hit to your pride worth it. She throws her arms around you and presses her face against your stomach. You rest a gentle hand on the top of her head.

“But we have to ask Mom first, okay?”

Tuk nods and releases you, grin never fading. You turn to Kiri and ask, “Where is Mom, anyways? Have you seen her today?”

Kiri dips her head and says, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s either in the tent or talking with other parents.”

“Alright, we’ll go find her, then. You want to come with us to the forest? Play some more games?”

“I don’t think so. I have that collection to sort through, remember?” The smirk on her face says she’s just using the collection as an excuse not to go, but you don’t mind. You smirk back knowingly.

“Right, right, totally. Well, I guess we’re off to find Mom, then! Ready, Tuk?”

Tuk nods furiously and grabs the hand you hold out for her. You wave one last time at Kiri as you leave in search of your mother.

------

Mom was finishing up her conversation when you finally find her, almost on the opposite side of High Camp. Her ears flick as she hears you both approaching, although Tuk’s loud chatter had probably alerted her a while ago. She presses a quick hand to the bicep of the woman she was talking to as she says goodbye before walking over to you and Tuk.

Your mouth stretches into a smile, happy to see her.

“Hey Mom! Tuk and I are about to head out for an hour or two to explore, is that okay? Do you want to come with?” you ask, even though you are certain she will decline your offer.

Just as you thought, she shakes her head and says, “I am sorry, my daughters. I already have plans for the afternoon. Maybe next time, yes?”

You nod understandingly. “That’s alright, Mom. We won’t be out long anyways.”

“It will be getting dark soon. Make sure to be back before it does.” Your mother knows you are almost an adult of the clan now, but that doesn't stop her from worrying over you the same way she does the rest of her children. You understand your mother’s concern, though, and simply nod.

“We will. We’ll see you later, okay?”

Your mother smiles and nods back, hand briefly running over Tuk’s head. She places her hand on your arm as you walk past her, and you place your own on hers just for a moment, understanding her silent message of ‘be careful’.

And with that, you and Tuk are off.

------

You walk deep into the forest, but not any further than usual. There’s a large, safe area in the forest near the edge of High Camp where the children are allowed to explore. It’s a good chunk of land with plenty of space and trees to play around with, so you don’t go outside of the perimeter.

In fact, the adults of the clan, including your parents, forbid it. There was dangerous machinery and weapons left over from a battle with the Sky People over a decade ago. They were old, yes, but no child should be near them.

A few years ago, a poor boy from the clan died after he stepped on an old land mine still working underneath the dirt where the Sky People had left it. The weapon was years old, but it killed him instantly. Such an unnecessary and sorrowful death made the whole clan grieve together for at least two months. It was a stark reminder of the Sky People’s vicious ruthlessness.

Now, nobody is allowed to cross into that section of forest, for their own safety. The clan did not want any other innocent to die.

Your parents had made it clear to all of their children to stay away from that part of the forest, and you gladly kept your distance. You didn’t want to die like that, blown to bits before you even knew what was happening.

You and Tuk wander around until the sky begins to darken, the eclipse encompassing the forest and dimming the bright sky. You’d spent the past few hours lifting heavy rocks so Tuk could look and poke at the bugs frantically running around. Tuk watched as you practiced your balancing skills on the skinny branch of a tree, arms stretched out so you could remain upright. Then, you chased Tuk around until the both of you were gasping for air.

Now, the two of you were resting on the soft grass of the ground, hands behind your head as you gaze at the sky and struggle to catch your breath.

Once the sky begins to darken, you lean up on your elbows and turn to Tuk.

“Time to head home, Tuk, it’s getting dark already,” you say, fully expecting her to whine and argue.

To your surprise, she simply nods her head and pulls herself to her feet. Her little chest still heaves as she moves and sweat glistens on her forehead. Her head of braids is messy from laying on the ground, little blades of grass stuck in it. You’re sure your hair is no better.

Guess I finally wore out her endless amount of energy, you think.

You sit up and stand on your feet, hands drifting down to check your weapons. Once you make sure everything is still attached, you reach over to Tuk, brushing grass from her body and picking it out of her hair.

Tuk is quiet the entire time you work, a rare occurrence you would have taken notice of if you weren’t lost in your own head, thinking of what you were going to have for dinner. Your stomach growls as your mind drifts with the clouds, and you barely catch the mischievous smile that flickers across Tuk’s face before she leaps from your grasp and sprints away.

“Catch me if you can, Ayviiri!”

You’re so startled that you can only gawk as she bounds away, before your legs are moving and you sprint after her.

“Tuk! It’s getting dark, we don’t have time for this!”

Your legs are much longer than hers and your speed much faster, and you would have caught her arm if you hadn’t tripped over an exposed root and face-planted into the dirt. You’d been so focused on grabbing her that you hadn’t been watching the ground.

You quickly leap back to your feet and chase after her, face throbbing and covered in dirt. The skin of your knees stings, and you can feel yourself losing your temper.

The time between falling and standing back up hadn’t been long, only a few seconds, but it was long enough for Tuk to no longer be in your immediate sight. Trees, bushes, and glowing plant life block your view, but you can hear her delighted laughter and her small feet thudding against the dirt as she ran further and further away.

“Tuk! I’m serious, this isn’t funny! You need to come back, Tuk! Tuk!” you shout, irritation coloring your voice as you continue after her.

The sky continues to darken, and with it your mood. You chase after her, uncaring of the branches or bushes you have to knock out of the way. You can still hear her laughter, so you know she’s close.

You’re so focused on chasing after her and watching the placement of your feet so you don’t end up on the ground again that you don’t notice entering a part of the forest you had never been to before. By the time you look around yourself and notice, it’s too late.

You slow to a stop and stand there, panting, hands resting on your knees as your heart pounds in your chest. You struggle to catch your breath.

Tuk is going to be in so much trouble! You think, annoyance making your jaw clench.

You straighten up, still gasping for air. You take in your surroundings and freeze.

Horror blossoms in your chest and sinks its teeth into your limbs, turning your blood to ice. You are frozen, unable to move as you realize where you are.

The trees and plants around you are unfamiliar. You recognize their species, yes, but you don’t know the pattern they are placed in because you have never seen them before. Nothing looks familiar because you had sprinted straight past the line separating the safe part of the forest from the dangerous.

There are fewer bioluminescent plants in this part of the forest, it seems, which makes the area much darker. The trees seem to loom over you, and the usual trilling of bugs seems muted, somehow, as if in the distance.

You stand in place, body still, terrified to move another step and get blown up like that boy. You remain there for another moment before you hear the quiet laughter of a little girl in the distance.

The terror you had felt before is nothing compared to the blasting wave that seizes your mind and body. Your stomach turns and your heart races, beating faster than it ever has before as you realize, sick, that Tuk has no idea where she was. That she had no idea she had crossed the line into hazardous territory, and she had no clue what danger she was in.

She’s still running around, your brain gasps, she’s still moving, she’s touching the ground!

An image appears in your mind, unwanted. You watch as your sweet, sweet little sister is blown to pieces. You watch as you find what’s left of her body. You watch as you walk back home and tell your parents what happened. And the imagined look that comes over their faces, full of agony and pure grief, is enough to shock you back into your body.

You sway, dizzy with the overpowering emotions controlling your body and the sickening images still taunting you in your head. You blink and force a breath into your body, and then you’re off like a bullet, sprinting through the trees in search of your sister.

“Tuk!” The cry that leaves your mouth is completely different from the shouts you had been making earlier. Those had been tinged with annoyance and begrudging amusement. The sounds leaving you now are terror-stricken, thick with awful emotion.

“Tuk! Stop moving, Tuk, stay still, I’m coming for you!”

You race after her in the last direction you heard her voice, feet pounding into the dirt. You’re running so fast, completely unconcerned with your own safety as you frantically seek out any sign of your sister. Fear seizes your heart and muscles, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears. Your vision narrows as you search, looking anywhere but the path in front of you. You are sprinting, so consumed with fear and adrenaline that you don’t notice the glinting metal laying exposed under a light layer of dirt and leaves until it is too late.

Your right foot lands squarely in the middle of a contraption, and the sharp, strong teeth of the trap activate and clamp onto your leg, tearing deeply into the flesh just above your ankle.

You go flying, skidding across the ground. Your face and hands take most of the hit, small rocks in the dirt scraping your palms. The impact of your face hitting the ground splits open the skin of your chin.

Stars burst behind your eyes as you slow to stop, face down in the dirt. Your entire body feels numb, and your brain struggles to catch up with what just happened. You lay there for a few seconds, trying to think properly and move, but it just won’t happen. Eventually, you’re able to slowly lift your upper body upwards with your arms, dragging your face out of the dirt.

Little flickers of pain are starting to filter into your brain, but it isn’t until you fully sit up, turn around, and see your mangled, bloody leg that you realize what had happened. Then, the pain hits you so fast and hard it steals the breath straight from your lungs

White hot agony splits across your senses. Your vision turns spotty with black dots and your head becomes fuzzy, sound muted in your ears. By the time you come back to yourself, you realize you’re lying flat on your back. Must have passed out, you think distantly. That’s okay. I’m okay.

You gain awareness once more, pain throbbing through your entire body. Even the tip of your tail hurts. You lay there, staring blankly up at the trees, looking at the stars blinking at you through the gaps in the canopy. Your head is empty of any thought or emotion, brain and body in shock.

Your hearing begins to come back just in time to hear the choked gasp of a little girl to the right side of your head. It’s immediately followed by a screaming wail that jolts you straight back into your body.

For one fearful moment, you are afraid that the little girl has stepped into a metal trap of her own and is screaming in agony. Then a weight slams into the side of your stomach.

Tuk’s frightened face appears in your line of sight, tears streaming down her face and bright, yellow eyes horrified. Distantly, you recognize that she is still screaming, sobbing.

You blink, hand slowly reaching up to touch her tear-soaked face.

“Tuk,” you croak. The realization that she’s okay is a stunning relief, and you feel your body relax deeper into the dirt. “Oh, Tuk.” Tears sting at your own eyes and flow down your cheeks, happy and relieved and agonized all at the same time.

She sobs louder at the sight of your own tears. You both lay there, bawling, until she is finally able to gasp out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know we had gone so far, I didn’t see the line, Ayviiri! I’m sorry!” She continues to gasp and wail, and the sight makes your heart burn.

Your hand slowly reaches up towards her and around her tiny back, and you gently apply pressure. She takes the hint and leans down to lay her head against your chest. Her wet face tickles your bare skin, but you keep your hand on her back, rubbing circles.

Pain still throbs in time with your heartbeat throughout your body, mostly in your leg, but you let her cry until her gasps turn to hiccups and her tears slow from a steady stream to almost a complete stop.

She raises her head from your chest and looks at your face. You return her gaze, eyes dazed and half-lidded. And then she says,

“Are you okay?”

You stare at her and then laugh as best you can, chest stinging from the movement. But you don’t care, because it was such a silly, oblivious question that could only come from a child.

And your brain might still be a little loopy from the hard hit it had taken when you had faceplanted into the ground, twice. Either way, you laugh for a few seconds, jostling Tuk still laying pressed up against you.

“Uh, I don’t think I can qualify as ‘okay’ right now, Tuk.”

That makes her eyes fill with tears once more, and she lowers her head to press her forehead against your chest.

“I’m so sorry, Ayviiri.” Her voice wobbles, and it’s clear she’s about to start sobbing all over again.

Yeah, you admit. Probably not the best thing to say to a traumatized kid right now.

You shush her once more, hand stroking her hair a few more times. Then, you say,

“Hey, Tuk. I’m going to need you to be really strong here for a little bit, can you do that for me? I’m alright, but I’m going to need your help. Can you stay with me?”

She stares at you for a few seconds and then nods her head. She sits up and takes her arm off your body, sniffling, and then wipes her eyes and face with her hands. She closes her eyes and takes in a slow, deep breath, just like Mom had taught us to do when we were scared, and lets it out. She repeats the process two more times before she opens her eyes, determined.

You stare at her for a moment.

Shit. I really am lucky to have such a damn good family.

“Thanks for staying with me, Tuk.”

She looks you straight in the eye and says, “Sully’s stick together”, like it’s a fact of life, something that has always been and would never change.

You blink furiously to will your own tears of relief away/

“Alright, Tuk. I’m going to need you to help me sit up, okay. Slowly.”

You start small, wiggling your fingers and then moving your arms. You tense your shoulders and, very slowly, strain your stomach muscles to start lifting your upper body off the forest floor. Tuk reaches her arm around your back and presses her hand against you, carefully applying support.

Every part of your body is in agony, head pounding behind your eyes and face stinging. Still, you don’t stop until you’re fully sitting up. Your head wobbles dizzily and black dots threaten you once more, but you will yourself not to pass out. Once you find your balance, you look at Tuk. She looks back at you, worried, hand laying on your shoulder.

Neither of you says anything. You nod slowly and wiggle your fingers and parts of your upper body some more. The longer you take stock of the injuries up here, the longer you don’t have to look at the wound on your leg.

You can put it off no longer, though, and so you lean forward to take a look at your legs stretched out in front of you.

You whimper before you can stop yourself.

The metal contraption had wrapped itself around your right foot. Sharp little teeth are clamped into the flesh of your calf, tearing through delicate skin and squeezing tight. Bright red blood soaks your leg, the metal, and the ground beneath you.

The teeth haven’t gone in as deep as you had feared, though. They were in there, most likely reaching bone, but it hadn’t torn off your foot or mangled it beyond repair like you had thought.

Still, as relieving as that is, it’s not a pretty sight.

Maybe it didn’t go all the way through because it’s been out here so long, and the springs are worn down? You think, head tilting to the side and breath coming in short gasps as you stare. Dad once talked about metal things like this that were strong enough to cut a whole foot off.

Your stomach lurches.

Tuk follows your eye and looks at your injury. She gasps again and sways where she was sitting, turning a pale blue tinged with green.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, Eywa, me too.”

You both sit there for another minute, struggling to get your stomachs under control. Once you succeed, you hesitantly examine your foot once more.

You wiggle the toes on your left foot, and then gently move the toes on your right. Pain tears up your leg like lightening and you gasp, immediately stilling. Once it fades back to a steady throb, you crack open an eye and think.

What’s the plan here, Ayviiri? You’re unable to walk, deep in unfamiliar and dangerous territory, at night with an unarmed child. What’s the plan?

You sit there and sort through your options, eventually coming up with what you hope is the best thing to do in this situation. You turn to Tuk, who stares back at you. In this darker lighting, the glow of her yellow eyes and bioluminescent dots outline her face fiercely and make her look like the night sky.

“Okay. Okay, here’s the plan, here’s what we’re going to do. It’s already dark and way past the time we were supposed to get back home, right? So that means Mom and Dad know something is wrong, which means they’ll start looking for us soon. It won’t take them long to find us, since they know where we usually play, and they’re great trackers. So, they’ll be able to find us soon, and we need to be here when they do.” You pause to take a breath before you continue.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to help me get to the curve of that tree, and we’re going to stay still and quiet and alert. We’ll wait for them to find us, but we need to make sure that nothing else finds us first, okay?” you say, pointing to the curved trunk of a tree just a few feet from where you and Tuk were sitting.

Tuk whimpers, ears flattening to the sides of her head. “Do you think anything will find us before they get here?”

“No, no, Tuk, that’s just in case, alright? Oh, Tuk, please don’t cry, we’re okay! We’re okay, I promise.” You do your best to comfort her, reaching over and dragging her into a hug as she struggles to stop her tears. She goes willingly, gently patting you on the shoulders instead of hugging you tightly like she usually would.

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Alright. You ready?”

She leans back, wiping her eyes once more, and asks, “Are you?”

You hesitate and then nod your head, swallowing thickly. You know your weight is too much for little Tuk to drag even a few feet in one quick motion by herself. No, this was going to be a slow and bumpy ride.

This is going to hurt like hell.

You breathe deep and slow as Tuk moves around to your back. She slides her arms under your armpits, and you lift your arms to give her better access. She clasps her hands together in front of your chest, and her braids tickle the side of your face as she lowers her head to say, “On the count of three I’m going to start moving backward, okay?”

You nod. Tuk whispers, “One, two, three!”, and jerks you back roughly.

The movement jostles your leg and you howl, head tilting back as tears of pain prick your eyes. By the time your back finally hits the trunk of the tree, Tuk is out of breath and those tears are streaming down your face.

You rest your head against the tree, gasping for breath. Agony is all you can feel as you choke on air.

Tuk climbs into the enclosed curve of the tree trunk, sobbing. She curls into your side and lifts your arm out of the way so she can press up against your stomach, and you are barely able to wrap it around her.

Your ears eventually stop ringing and your vision clears. Tuk continues to cry, and the only sound you have the strength to muster up is a weak hum carrying the distant tune of one of your mother’s lullabies. You sit there, waiting, begging to be found by your parents.

Once you catch your breath, you raise your head. You look at your surroundings and straighten into a position that’s more sitting up than it is leaning on the trunk.

Have to stay awake and alert, you think, shaking your head to clear it of fuzziness. Have to keep my senses sharp and ready for whatever might come.

There weren’t many predators around this area, but you never know what animal might be drawn to the scent of your fresh blood. You draw out the knife strapped to the thigh of your right leg as discreetly as you can. You don’t want to scare Tuk any more than the poor girl already has been.

Just in case. You hold the knife in a tight grip. Just in case.

You had considered letting Tuk retrace her steps and head back towards High Camp but had discarded that idea as soon as it had appeared. There were too many threats and unknown factors; any other weapons laying hidden under the dirt, any predators who might be in the area, the chance she may get lost. All were good reasons to stay together and wait it out. Your wound was in a non-vital spot, and while it was incredibly painful and still bleeding, it wasn’t worth risking Tuk’s life just to get help faster.

Time trickles by slowly mostly in silence, other than the times you hum softly to Tuk. Tuk remains curled up at your side, faced streaked with tears even as more than an hour passes. Every now and then you can feel her whole body shudder. The night air is warm, so you know it’s mostly from stress and fear.

You both remain sitting up against the curve of the tree, hidden out of view. At this point you have to pee, but there is no way in hell you are moving your ass out of this spot unless it is time to go home.

You struggle to remain alert, eyes wide and ears flicking with every sound you hear. The buzzing of the insects and the distant chattering of syaksyuk are comforting sounds. It was when those sounds stopped that you needed to be worried.

Your chin just began to drop onto your chest, eyes drifting closed, when you heard rapidly approaching footsteps coming from the trees in front of you.

Your eyes pop open and you tense, head shooting up. Your hand had slackened around the knife so you strengthen your grip. Your heart begins to race in your chest, and you prepare yourself to fight for the lives of you and your sister.

Just as you are about to shake Tuk awake and tell her to run, the broad, tall frame of your dad leaps out of the branches.

He turns to you, and you can see the exact moment he realizes he had found his children. Relief fills his expression, and he gasps like he was finally able to breathe for the first time in hours.

“Ayviiri, Tuk!” He runs to your side and kneels beside you, hands fluttering uncharacteristically around your face and body like he doesn’t know where to touch.

He turns on his heels and shouts, “Neytiri! Neytiri, I found them, they’re over here!”

He turns back to you. Your head is starting to drop again, exhaustion and relief and joy clashing in your mind. You can barely manage a tired, “Hey, Dad”.

You’re not even surprised to see him; you know there is not a single force on this planet that would keep your mom and dad away from their children.

There was crashing through the leaves and bushes your dad had come through before your mother burst out, eyes wild and teeth bared, clearly expecting a fight. Once she realizes there is no predator here she relaxes, only to tense up again when she sees us.

A cry burst from her throat and she runs to us, sliding on her knees as she falls down next to you. Her hands flutter around you, just like Dad’s had, and the similarity makes a smile pull on the corners of your lips.

You’re sure you look terrible, hair, face, and body covered in dirt and leaves and bruises. Your face feels swollen, and the various cuts sting.

Your parent’s voices crash over your senses, asking all kinds of questions, but the only thing you can do is smile. So happy to see them, you think, eyes drifting shut once more. I think I would cry some more if I wasn’t so damn tired.

“Hey, hey, stay with me. Stay awake, baby girl, hey.” Dad pats your face gently, his own face close to yours. Your groan, opening your eyes once more.

“What?” you say grouchily. You just want to sleep, please, please.

Dad smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Where’s that attitude coming from, huh? We’re so happy to see you guys, you know.”

Mom covers her mouth with her hand, gasping with relief and her eyes shining. Tears leak down her face. She smiles at you, reaching out to gently grasp the hand still holding the knife. She takes it from you before holding your hand.

Tuk finally starts to shift, awakening from her deep sleep. With the way your parents had come crashing in here, making all sorts of noise, her sleep was a true testament to her exhaustion.

She opens her eyes fully. Once she sees her parents hovering over her, she bursts into tears.

She reaches her arms out in the universal sign of ‘pick me up’, and your mother snatches her up and into her arms before you can blink. Both of them cry while holding onto one another, Mom shushing Tuk and rocking her back and forth.

Her eyes met yours over Tuk’s shoulder, and you see pride and gratefulness shining bright in them. You shrug your shoulders, as if to say ‘duh’. It wasn’t like there was any way you weren’t going to keep your little sister safe.

Your dad turns your face back towards him with gentle fingers placed on your chin. His lips thin and his eyes narrow as he takes in the mess of your face and upper body.

“Ayviiri, where are you hurt?”

“My leg, mostly.” You gasp out wetly. “I didn’t even see it.”

When he sees the metal wrapped around your foot and digging into your bloody flesh, he hisses and bares his teeth, ears pulling back and muscles tensing. You can see his tail flicking irritably behind him. Anger and hate twist his face into an expression you have seen many times before, always when the Sky People were mentioned.

“Fuck, Ayviiri.”

You have enough energy to bark out a short, incredulous laugh.

“I fucking know, Dad. Just my luck, right?”

Mom looks over Dad’s shoulder at your leg and hisses as well, her own tail flicking. Fear crosses her face, and she looks younger than you’ve ever seen her before.

“Sky People.”

Dad gently brushes a finger against the metal, yellow-green eyes flicking up to your face to take in your reaction. When your expression doesn’t change, his face hardens with resolve, and he grabs onto it more firmly, trying to get it to release.

You yelp, entire body jumping with the pain that shoots through your body. You try to lean away, but there’s nowhere to go.

Mom jumps with your yelp, hand grasping onto your left leg to comfort you. You look at her, eyes filling with tears. The weight of everything comes crashing down.

“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad.” It comes out as a croak.

You realize it’s the first time you’ve seen your dad all day. The stress and worry on his face make your heart squeeze, and before you know it you’re crying, again. You’re not sure if the tears are from relief or shame or pain, but they roll down your cheeks all the same.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t even see it, and I-I know we went past the line, and it was all my fault, it just happened so fast, and-”

He interrupts you, shushing gently. He rests his palm gently against your face, and you lean into his touch, eyes closing. “Hey, hey, hey, we’re right here, you’re okay. It’s alright, we’re not mad at you. Baby girl, we’re just glad that you’re both still alive.” His voice breaks, and he smiles.

You nod and swallow thickly, face still cradled in his palm.

You’re so, so tired.

He moves around until he is cupping your face with both hands, shaking you gently.

“You need to stay awake, baby. Open your eyes, Ayviiri.”

You whimper but do so, sight blurry. You can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. He turns his head to look at Mom.

They have a conversation with their eyes that you cannot decipher. Mom’s eyes fill with tears again, brows furrowing and lips frowning, but she straightens up and swallows. She nods her head once, firmly, resolute.

Dad nods back and turns to you. He takes a deep breath.

“Okay. Okay, Ayviiri, you with me?”

You groan and nod, making clear eye contact.

“Alright, that’s good, baby girl. I’m going to need you to stay awake for just a little longer, okay? We’re going to pull this thing off you and then we’re going home, alright?”

Your eyes pop open and all forms of tiredness leave your body just like that. You tense and your heart begins to pound. Your leg is mostly numb now, but you don’t want to take any chances.

“Hey, woah, wait, wait, wait! Wait, Dad, hold on a second!” You clench your leg muscles and try to move away, like an idiot, and you gasp and go still. Panic refuses to leave you.

“We can wait! Can’t we wait until we get home, Dad, that would be better!”

Dad leans back and considers that option for a moment. Then he nods his head and moves his hands away from your leg.

You gasp in relief, chest heaving. You were only putting off the inevitable, but still, you’d take it.

“We’re still going to need to lift you up, Ayviiri. Come on, let’s go.” He rises to his full stance. Mom stands as well, lifting Tuk with her. Tuk’s face is turned away, buried into her neck, and you can’t see if she was still awake or not.

Lucky, you think sourly.

Dad walks over to your left side, where Tuk had previously sat next to you. He squats back down and curls his arms under your shoulders and your knees. You lift up your body as best you can to give him more room, breathing deeply in preparation.

At least it’s not Tuk moving me around again, you think. If I can survive that, then I can certainly survive this.

Still, that thought doesn’t stop you from tensing.

Dad lowers his face to yours, and says, “I’m sorry, Aryviiri, this is probably going to hurt.”

You barely have time to nod before he’s lifting you up and into his arms. You squeeze your eyes and prepare for the pain, but the only thing you feel is a slight twinge from your foot.

You blink, look at your dad, and grin, impressed.

He grins back down at you, holding you gently. Your mother moves to stand at his side, stroking the top of your head one last time. And then, finally, you are off back home.

------

The journey back is restless. Dad refuses to let you sleep, worried you may have a concussion, and so you stare at the sky as your father carries you. The gentle rocking of his arms tempts you, but you do your best to stay awake. Besides, the way your body aches and stings is enough to keep you from falling asleep. Dad talks to you about nothing in particular as you move through the foliage. You close your eyes because it stings to have them open, but you do not sleep.

You arrive back at High Camp in less than an hour. It’s late, so there aren’t any other people around. Your family tent is still lit, though, and Kiri, Neteyam, and Lo’ak are still awake, waiting for you to get back.

You’ll never forget the expressions of relief on their faces when they see you and Tuk. They crowd around all four of you, asking questions and talking in frantic voices.

“Shit, Ayviiri! You look awful, what the hell happened?” Lo’ak asks loudly, face lowering to yours, yellow eyes flickering across your face. You’re still in Dad’s arms, swaying back and forth as the family walks as one to the medical center in the middle of High Camp.

“Nice to see you too, little brother. To answer your question, well, you know me. Just can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

Lo’ak scoffs and crosses his arms. “You get into less trouble than Neteyam, and that’s saying something. What really happened?”

Before you can reply, Kiri knocks her hip into Lo’ak’s. “She’s clearly not ready for conversation, Lo’ak. The details can wait until after they get checked out and rest.”

Lo’ak grumbles but relents under her fierce stare, and you smile, tilting your head back and enjoying the quiet.

Neteyam walks on the other side of Dad, and you can feel his worried gaze flickering between you and Tuk. You open your eyes and wink at him, and he smiles and lets out a breath, relieved. It couldn’t be that bad if you were making jokes.

You all shuffle into the large medical tent. It was a spacious area, filled with a few cots and medical supplies. You and every other child of the Omaticaya knew this place well, having been here many times for checkups and bandages for various cuts and bruises.

Dad lowers you gently onto the cot closest to the entrance of the tent. Lo’ak and Kiri blanch when they see the state of your leg, having walked on the other side of you and only seeing your bruised face.

“Holy shit, Ayviiri.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“I know. At this point I can’t feel much of it, but it hurt like a bitch when it happened.”

Lo’ak nods, dazed, and reaches out to touch it. Kiri smacks his hand away, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“I’m going to go wake Norman, okay? I’ll be right back.” Dad says, looking at you. You nod, and he pats you on the shoulder before jogging out of the tent.

Mom has lowered Tuk into her own cot right next to yours. Tuk is utterly unconscious; nothing could wake her up now. She was exhausted, but other than being dirty and tired, she was completely fine. Mom moves her braids away from her face, caressing her head.

Thinking about what could have happened to your little sister still makes you sick to your stomach. Even your own injury, while painful and bloody, was nowhere near as bad as it could have been.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to relax into the soft bedding of the cot. It could have been so much worse, you think. Thank you, Ewya. Thank you.

Norman jogs into the tent in his human form, tiny and pale white. His dark hair is still mussed from sleep. You can see his tired eyes widen through his mask when he takes you in, and he immediately starts examining you, startling when he sees the bloody state of your leg.

“Hey, Mister Spellman. How’s it going?” You grin tiredly.

Dad walks into the tent a moment later, putting an enormous hand on Norman’s tiny shoulder. The contrast between their size and the stark colors of their skin makes you giggle, head dizzy.

“How’s it looking, Norm?” Dad asks, referring to the state of your leg. He shoots you a worried look at your soft giggles. “I also think she might have hit her head pretty hard.”

Norman tilts his head to the side and reaches out to poke at it gently. “Well, from what I can tell, it didn’t sever anything important. It’s got itself in deep, though, that’s for sure. Can you tell me what happened, Ayviiri?”

You wince and shake your head to regain your thoughts, but the only thing that does is make your head pound even more. “I was chasing after Tuk too fast and wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping. Next thing I knew I was on the ground and this fucker was in me.”

Norman nods in understanding, turning around to put on a pair of plastic gloves. He shuffles around the tent, little hands moving around and grabbing various medical supplies to place next to your bed. “Okay, and did you hit your head at all?”

You squint, struggling to recall the events. “Uh, kind of. Once when I tripped over a root, and then again when that happened. Pretty sure my face took most of the impact, though.”

He nods again and examines your wound once more. A few minutes pass as he pokes and prods. Eventually, he pulls his hands back and says, “Well. The good news is that it’s unlikely to cause any permanent damage. Bad news is that teeth are in there pretty deep, and it’s going to hurt like hell to get it to let go.”

You’re exhausted, filthy, and every part of you aches. You don’t even care about what it’s going to feel like. You just want to get clean and then sleep until next week.

Your lips thin and your eyes narrow. “Let’s get it done, then.”

Norman pulls away and starts grabbing materials and scary-looking medical tools out of drawers. You look away before you can start freaking out, closing your eyes and leaning back into the cot. You reach for Dad’s hand and he gives it to you without hesitation. His hand is dry and warm. It engulfs your own, but the hold it has on yours is gentle. You squeeze and he squeezes back.

“Can I get some water, first?” you ask. Your voice is starting to sound like you’ve swallowed rocks.

Lo’ak leaps to his feet and leaves to find some. He comes back a few moments later, and you snatch the water out of his hands quickly. You tilt it back and let it flow into your mouth, swallowing rapidly. The cool, sweet liquid wets your throat. It’s so relieving that you drink until the container has run dry, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you give it back to Lo’ak. He leaves two more times to get more water until you’re satiated.

By that time, Norman has collected all the instruments he needs, washing his hands in the water bin and using soap to disinfect himself.

“This is going to hurt, but it’ll be over quickly. We’ll disinfect the injury after the metal is pulled off, and then we’ll wrap it. You need to keep your leg still until then, okay? In fact, Neteyam, come hold her leg down and keep it as still as you can. Lo’ak, be prepared to help if we need it.” He moves down to the foot of the bed where your legs rest.

“Ayviiri, you’re probably going to pass out for a little bit, so don’t be surprised when that happens.”

You squeeze Dad’s hand tighter, choosing to look at the ceiling of the tent rather than at what’s about to happen. Your heart rate increases out of fear of the pain that’s about to come, but you breathe slow and deep to keep the panic at bay.

Mom moves from where she had been sitting on Tuk’s bed to grab your other hand. With both parents by your side and siblings in the room to support you, you know you’re going to be okay.

“Alright, Ayviiri. Take some deep breaths for me. Are you ready?”

You breathe out one last time and nod.

The last thing you feel is a sharp, popping tug on your leg. Pain explodes behind your eyes, your vision turns black, and you’re out.

------

Your brain slowly starts to recognize your surroundings as you wake up. You can tell it’s morning again, just by the warm light that glows behind your eyelids and the sound of birds singing through the camp. If you listen harder, you can hear the murmurings of your people and the distant laughter of children.

Your lips pull upwards into a small smile, eyes still closed.

Your mouth and tongue feel thick and fuzzy. You wiggle your fingers and crack open an eye, taking account of your body. The pain you had felt last night has faded from sharp misery to a dull ache.

You groan and slowly sit up, bones cracking like you’d aged at least thirty years. Once you are upright, you look at the white, thick bandage covering a good portion of your lower right leg.

You wiggle the toes on both legs.

Other than a slight twinge, no extreme pain can be felt. You let out the breath you had been holding, suddenly extremely relieved, and you flop back down onto your cot.

I’m okay,you think, stunned. My leg is okay. Tuk is okay. We’re okay.

You lay there, simply processing. Eventually Mom walks into the tent, holding onto a basket filled with fruit. She takes one look at you and drops the basket with a thud, moving to your side in a few short, quick steps.

“You are awake!” she gasps, gripping your hand. “I am so relieved, Ayviiri! How do you feel, are you in any pain?”

You shake your head gently and grip her hand just as tight. “No, Mom, I’m okay, I promise.”

You smile at her and she smiles at you. She cups your cheek with her hand, and her smile fades.

“My daughter. What happened?”

Your own smile drops, but you sit up and explain what happened. How you and Tuk had been planning to return before it got dark, how Tuk had playfully run away and you had chased her, how you had accidentally crossed into forbidden territory without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, Mom, it was my fault. I didn’t even know we were that close, and-”

She shushes you and shakes her head. “No, my daughter. It was an accident. You and Tuk are alright, that is what matters.”

You nod, eyes stinging.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She presses a kiss to your forehead and stands up.

“I will tell the family you are awake. I know Tuk is very interested in seeing you, as is everyone else.”

“How long was I out?” you ask, curious. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours.

“Two days, my daughter. You were exhausted and injured. Your mind and body needed time of rest to heal.

Damn, you think, surprised.

“Even after all that rest you will be confined to your bed for at least another week. No walking on that leg.” She gives you a stern look.

Mom leaves and quickly returns with all of your siblings, who pile onto your cot, clapping your back and arms and thighs. Hands and limbs flail all over the place as you struggle to support everyone’s weight and keep them all upright, but you don’t tell them to get off.

They’re happy to see you awake, voices chattering and asking questions without pausing to let you answer. You don’t mind, though. You’re just happy to be here with them.

“I’m okay, I’m okay–ow, Neteyam, you’re leaning on my tail!”

Eventually, Dad makes them get off you. They grumble but comply. You hadn’t even heard him arrive with your sibling’s loud voices clamoring in your ears, but there he was, arm wrapped around Mom’s waist and expression fond.

Tuk jumps up again and wraps an arm around you, burying her little face into the curve of your neck. You wrap your arms around her in turn, squeezing her tight. Neither of you says anything, just hold onto each other.

She lets you go after a few moments, eyes full of tears. Thankfully, none of them spill over as she sniffles. She looks tired but physically healthy. To you, that is worth all the pain in the world.

You gaze around at your family as they stand in the tent, all trying to talk at the same time. It’s chaos, but there is nowhere you’d rather be.

Thank you for letting me stay with them, Ewya. Thank you for letting Tuk come back unharmed. Thank you.

Your eyes start to become heavy, and regardless of the noise and the fact you had just slept for two days straight, weariness begins to creep into your bones once more. You relax in the cot, safe and surrounded by your family. With that one last thought, you drift off to sleep.

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