#WAKE UP SKI JUMPING FAMILY

[lewanarta]

SKI JUMPING IS BACK

TODAY

FOR FIVE DAYS IN A ROW

#WAKE UP SKI JUMPING FAMILY #ski jumping #wsj #msj #european games #moje

[masonjarsmoments]

#ski jumping #sleep deprived but hille is waking us all up #philipp raimund #ski jumping family

[theblueflower05]

First Love/ Late Spring

A/N: I had no right to listen to Mitski and write for Neteyam but here I am. I’ve been working on this on and off since December but finally decided to get serious and post it. Hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Masturbation(F receiving). Breeding Kink if ya really dig. Angst. Talks of self doubt and insecurity. All Characters are aged up 18+.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Summary: Neteyam has passed his Metkayinan Iknimaya, and is now free to choose a woman. Why did you ever think he would choose you? Neteyam X Na'vi Reader.

Series Masterlist(All parts can be found here)

Next> Crawling Back to You(Part Two)

One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby.

Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in- Mitski, First Love/Late Spring

As the beloved niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, in your life you had wanted for nothing.

Had spent the last nineteen years in isolated bliss. The island of Awa’atlu and your tribes familiar inhabitants were all you knew. Your life moved to a steady beat, as sure as the morning eclipse. As rhythmic as the tides.

And you had been content, really you had. Too busy to be bored. Too beloved to truly dwell on the gap. On the absence of a mate no matter how much your Uncle; Tonowari urged you to accept one of the many offerings of courtship. Lonely maybe, but happy.

Useful. Focused.

Ever since the Sully’s arrival, you have felt anything but.

Descending from the skies on ikran back, they left plumes of sand in their wake. Shook up everything you had ever known as they stood there on the beach, adrift. Out of place, different then anything you had ever seen with their dark skin and thin tales. That morning had been a whirlwind of harsh words and brief but tense negotiations.

So much change had happened in such a small amount of time that it was hard to wrap your head around-

The leader of the Sully Tribe, Jake, had begged Uturu for his family. And ever benevolent, your Uncle Tonowari had granted it to them.

Overwhelmed by crowds, you don't recall much more of that day except for the desire to run away. To escape the strained aura’s of the hesitant clans people and the exhausted newcomers. You’d gone to away, eager to get back to your herbs and tinctures. To the safety of familiarity to digest the entire situation.

You’d been stopped in your tracks, rooted in place, by a pair of striking golden orbs.

A stare like none you’d ever known. His eyes resonated with you. Plucking a cord n your chest that echoed throughout the rest of your body. You’d never felt anything like it. Never been so affected by a stranger.

Never been so affected by anyone.

Even now, months later, thinking of Neteyam that look he’d given you on his first day here makes you hot. You dream about it, about him often. He plagues you, has taken up permanent space in your subconscious.

You wake most mornings to phantom touches. To his voice ringing in your ears and an empty bed mat that feels too cold.

This morning is no different. Your eyes flutter open with a gasp and your heart is beating madly in your chest.

It's early. You have only moments before you will be expected to wake and start your daily routine. Really, you should’ve been up by now-

Instead you lie in your corner of the family mauri, the privacy curtains pulled around your bed as you shoulder into the woven blankets. Your hands slip down- lower on your belly and into the dip of your tweng.

Between your legs you’re hot, soaked and pulsing as you always seem to be these days. Your clit swollen almost painfully as you press your fingers to it, rubbing firm little circles as you search for some kind of relief. Humping harshly into your small hand, cupping your sex desperately as you recall Dream Neteyam.

He’d pinned you to a tall palm, your belly pressing against the rough bark as buried his nose in your hair. All panting breaths and wandering hands.

“You’re so beautiful”

“I’m right here”

“Let me have you, I have to have you”

Dream Neteyam says all the things you want to hear as he ravages you. He’s sure footed, cocky in that way that you knew he could be. He’s pushy and needy and you’d give him anything if he asked for it, Eywa all he had to do is hint that he wanted it-

“Spread your legs for me, sevin ”

You bite your lips bloody, your fangs digging into them as your thick thighs clamp shut around your hands and your pussy spasms. You want to cry out as you come. Fight the urge to whine because it’s not enough, you’re still so empty.

Neteyam’s name is always on your tongue as you come down from your self induced high.

“Y/N? My Child, are you awake?”

There’s no time to bask in the afterglow, you wrench your hands away. Wiping the mess on your blankets as you shoot up straight-

“Yes? Yes. I’m coming, i’ll be out a minute” You try to keep your voice from breaking and just barley succeed.

Ronal who had peeked a head into the empty mauri isn't convinced, but accepts it anyway “Hurry now, we have to get going. The tide pools will be filling and we need to restock the sea-tsam(kelp like herbs), you haven't even eaten breakfast yet. Up!”

You only release the breath stuck in your chest when she’s scurrying back out of the home- one of these days you’re going to get caught.

Your people are free with their sexuality, there’s no shame in pleasure whether it be self inflicted or given by another. But it would make those pesky questions arise- if you’re so needy, Y/N- why do you refuse every eligible bachelor that comes your way?

You huff, thinking about that very thing as you get ready for the day. Bruising through your long hair almost violently as you chew it over.

If you need to be fucked so badly, why are you three years into adulthood without a mate? You don’t even have a possible suitor- your friends are having babies, building lives, and you’re still living with your family.

It used to be that you we’re hyper focused on your role in the clan. On your training as part of the Tsakarem. On preparing Tsireya for the day she reaches adulthood and takes over her mother’s title.

You had always been family oriented, and the clan had accepted it-

But now there were whispers. Inquiries, never spoken to you but always about you. It’s an oddity that such a pretty young woman with such high standing is choosing to be alone.

Is there something wrong with you?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The only thing that’s wrong with you is your inability to focus on the most mundane of tasks as of late.

After a quick breakfast, you’d taken off. Determined to knock the long list of chores down.

You’d collected herbs until your fingers hurt and the satchel slung across your chest was full to the brim. You’d tended to the Elders, and checked in on the mother with newborns, still so fresh to the world that they’re connected to their Sa’nok kuru, constant Tsaheylu necessary at such a young age.

Healing isn't always glamorous, and while you’d much rather be mixing potions and sketching in your journals- you check fevers. Change chamber pots. Kiss the scraped knee’s of young ones.

You’re supposed to be heading back to the Healer’s Mauri, the large hut where Ronal waits for you-

But instead you get sidetracked.

It’s all you seem to do these days.

Lounging in the soft warm sand is so much easier then running around the village.

You’d come across your cousins who were circled by Roxto and the elder Sully’s, and it hadn't taken much convincing for you to tag along on whatever little adventure they had planned for the afternoon. It had led you to one of the smaller isles, a tiny thing that was mostly white sand beaches and deep rocky cove tunnels.

Lo’ak and Ao’nung practicing their breath holds, taking turns weaving through the underwater caves. The two had went from going for each others throat’s to thick as thieves, and your glad. Lo’ak’s troubled, but he’s not trouble. Not the way that your cousin's other asshole friends are.

Roxto and Neteyam wade through the crystal clear shallows, hunting for clams that are abundant at this time of year.

You’re sat with Kiri and Tsireya, the three of you staying in the beach and giggling about current clan gossip. Chattering endlessly.

Neteyam’s shoulders are broad and glisten in the bright afternoon sun. You can barely tear your gaze away from him. Hungrily, needing to glance back every few seconds-

“The celebration is in less then a month's time” Tsireya states, a small grin playing on her lips as she takes in the scene.

She knows about your feelings for the eldest Sully son, you’d confessed them to her in a fit one night. Unable to keep them caged in your chest anymore. She can understand the appeal- her own eyes had been glued to the family since the arrival.

What she can't understand is why you wont tell him- or at the very least why you’re being so damn shy about it. You had never been this demure before.

“I know, the preparations have been a real pain in my ass” You reply, turning on your side to face her. Arm bent at the elbow, chin propped in your hand. “Tonowari has me assisting with getting the ceremonial mats woven. It’s not fair”

“I think he just wants you to be…a more active participant this year” Tsireya chooses her words wisely, ignoring your side eye “It’s sweet”

“It’s annoying” you hiss, eyes rolling harshly. Your tail swishes behind you, a firm pat on the sand.

“This is the celebration that’s held for the hunters. The ones that pass their Iknimaya’s?” Kiri asks, intrigued. She’s inquisitive and you’d assured her early on that she could ask you anything, that you’d help her understand the customs of your people.

“Yes and it’s so much fun. You’ll see, the Hunters come back from Motnaui(ritualistic hunt) and we spend the day roasting their catch, thanking Eywa for her abundance. There’s dancing and singing- “ Tsireya’s eyes sparkle as she talks about it, glazed with nostalgia.

You let her rant a bit more before cutting her off, “And mating. Most of the hunters will stake their claim on any courtships that have been started”

Because yes, it is a celebration for the newly joined adults of the clan, but goes hand in hand with the fact that it is their first chance to choose a mate.

“We have something like this back in the forest, it's the start of Fertility Season right?” Kiri verifies and you nod. “Does it coincide with the rains here, too?”

“Mhmm, most newly mated pairs will spend the week or so tucked away…-” Tsireya’s cheeks get red and you roll your eyes.

“Coupling” You interject and she shoots you a look that has you tittering. Awe, your sweet young cousin, still a year away from her own Iknimaya. Innocent and shy when it comes to such topics.

Kiri doesn't look scandalized- she’d come to adulthood back in the forest. Though she hasn't chosen a mate she had partaken in many of the festivities.

“Yes, coupling” Tsireya continues. “Its all beautiful really, its my favorite time of year. Right after the return of the Tulkun of course”

Its nice listening to your cousin's version of the celebration. You think that yeah, your own view of it all used to be mostly the same. That was until you’d reached adulthood, and had spent the last cycles without a mate of your own. This week that Tsireya found so beautiful had just been wet for you. Yourself and other unmated , able bodied Na’vi took on the duties of the disposed clan members.

It was an honor to take care of your people while they were vulnerable.

It was embarrassing to have not found a mate of your own yet.

You wonder if this year you’d spend the week in the rain again.

“You don't seem excited” Kiri whispers and you force a smile onto your face almost instantly, not wanting to come off so extremely transparent.

“It’s not that I’m not-”

“Y/N hasn't mated yet”

“Obviously Tsireya, thank you for pointing that out” you deadpan at the girl but she continues on, not phased in the least by your attitude-

“But I do think that will change this year”

Kiri perks up, big eyes interested, a brow arched “Really? Has someone caught your eye? Every time any one even tries to start courting you, you give them the cold shoulder”

“That’s not true, I’m nice about it” you defend your actions “I just haven't been interested in any of their offers”

“‘Their’ being half of the unmated men in this clan” Kiri’s sarcasm rivals your own, you flick a small shell at her forehead.

“It hasn't felt right and Eywa wouldn't want me to settle. '' The words taste condescending as they roll off your tongue, you don't blame them for scoffing at you but it's true.

If you had accepted an offer in the past, you wouldn't be free to follow your hearts desire now…your eyes flick back to the shore. Back to the broad shoulders.

“I’m sure whoever you choose will be honored,” Kiri chuckles. “Surprised though, probably. I overheard a couple of Elder’s making bets that you’d make another suitor cry this year”

The peel of laughter that Tsireya lets out is shrill and loud,

Roxto and Neteyam’s heads turn, far out enough now that the surely cant hear the conversation but can hear the shrieks of joy. Roxto grins and signs something that you can't quite make out and Neteyam gives a small wave.

You can feel the big stupid smile on your face, it’s no surprise that Kiri acknowledges it.

“You didn't answer my question. Is there anyone in particular that you have your eye on?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. You’d been wanting to run it past her for weeks. Desperate for her insight but too embarrassed to muster up the courage and ask for it.

“Tell her, tsmuk’tu” Tsireya urges gently.

“I have been hoping that…Neteyam might choose to court me. After his Iknimaya” You admit it, carefully watching her for her reaction. Your own ears are pressed to your head, your fingers winding around each other nervously.

“I was wondering why that idiot was going through his rites again” Kiri nods, like she’d found the missing piece of a puzzle.

One that she wasn't willing to share with the group.

“What’do you mean? If he wants to be a hunter, he has to” You point out the facts, the law of the village.

“Well yeah, but I mean look at how our dad did it. He didn't jump through all of the hoops, he just tamed his Skimwing on his own time. My brother has been adamant about wanting to be apart of ceremony”

You ingest Kiri’s words greedily, letting them expand in your chest. It’s hope, the fragile kind, the scariest kind.

“Maybe he just wants to prove himself as a hunter. We’ve heard his skill is legendary to the Omiticaya” you suggest and Tsireya pushes at your shoulder, shaking her head.

“Maybe” Kiri shrugs her shoulders “But mating is important to Neteyam. He’s always wanted a big family, I think he really idolized our parents' marriage. Mom said he must’ve taken an interest in a mate if he’s making such a big deal out of being a recognized adult here”

A big family. Neteyam wants to be a father.

The thought is heady. The seed has been planted in your head and you know there is no way that you will ever be able to dig it out.

“Do you think that-”

You're cut off by booming laughter, by clatter and chaos. Who else could it be but Ao’nung and Lo’ak coming back from the caves, they had the worst possible timing. You shoot daggers at your cousins fat head.

“What are you girls whispering about over here?” 'Nung teases as he drops next to you in the sand,

“That would be none of your business” You snipe, “Skxawng ass”

“Why so hostile, cuz?” Ao’nung starts “I was the one who invited you out here? You don't want to spend time with little ol’ me?”

“I spend too much time with you as is. I was hoping you had drowned down in those caves so I could get a break- NUNG!” you squeal as your cousin shakes his head, wringing out his wet hair all over you. The water is shockingly cold against your sun soaked skin.

Soon enough, Neteyam and Roxto come in from the waves, baskets full of multicolored shells. More than happy to share as they join the small circle.

“You had such a bountiful catch!” Tsireya applauds, happily accepting the oysters that Roxto offers.

You’re awkward around Neteyam on a good day- there's something so intimidating about his beauty. So tall and angular. But today? After the admittance you’d made to his sister? You can barely look at him.

You feel heavy and clunky and ugh, why does he make you so nervous? You’re playing with your hair, twisting the thick tendrils around your fingers idly when Neteyam turns to you.

“Do you want some?” He asks, already prying the tough shell open with his knife.

“Oh, yes please. They’re actually my favorite” You grin, and at least your voice doesn't project all the nerves you feel.

“I know” He hands you the oyster once he opens it and you try not to pay too much mind to how his fingers brush yours.

“How would you know that?” you slurp at the rich juice, grateful.

“Roxto was telling me about it” He says simply, already working open another shell to hand out.

“Oh yeah! Y/N remember when you ate so many of these that you got sick at dinner! I’ve never seen someone puke that much, it was never ending” Roxto chuckles, igniting laughter from the group.

You wince, the memory is not a particularly good one and you don't enjoy reliving it. Especially not in current company. You can feel your cheeks heat intensely.

“It was so bad! You got it all over dad’s lap and he didn't know what to do” Ao’nung adds hysterically “He just started panicking- picked you up by your tail and tossed your ass outside”

Tsireya breaks, giggling behind her hand and Kiri all but chokes. Lo’aks shaking his head good naturedly as Ao’nung and Roxto are in stitches- the only one who doesn't laugh is Neteyam. No, instead he gives you a gentle kind of smile, before going back to his task of shucking.

You’re only the butt of the joke for moments more before it ping-pongs to Lo’ak, who has almost cut one of his odd five fingers off in the process of prying open an ornery shell.

“Oh! Look brother, how pretty” Kiri points out the large blush colored pearl that Neteyam had almost swallowed.

“That’s good luck!” You grin “They don't usually get that big”

Huh. Good luck you say?” Neteyam picks it out of the shell, holding it between his thumb and pointer as he examines how it shines in the sun. Beautiful…

You’re frozen when he reaches out, the pearl in the palm of his hand.

“Here” he offers it to you.

The purple flush that completely takes over your face crawls down your neck too. You're completely flustered by the simple gesture of good will.

You should tell him that you can’t take it- that he should give it to Tuk, his little sister that loves making jewelry. Instead you’re hungry for anything, will accept any scraps of himself that Neteyam will give to you.

“Irayo” you beam as you accept the pear, tucking it away in your satchel for safe keeping. “I love it!”

He just gives you another one of those ever soft boyish grins, his eyes pools of liquid amber.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the weeks go by, there’s a certain light to you. A bounce in your step,

“Your aura has changed” Ronal informs you of the fact as the two of you sit in the Healers Mauri, plumes of heavy incense filling the space with fragrant smoke.

She’s far into her pregnancy now, but that has never stopped her from completing her duties. The salves she mixes with an expertise that comes from years of trial and error are potent and coveted.

Your lips quirk into a private smile as your fingers continue their threading. Working on a personal project in between your chores. “Has it really?”

She assesses you, her turquoise eyes all knowing as she takes you in. You’re a woman grown now far from the small child she had taken in with her husband all those years ago. In theses last few months you have blossomed, like a flower unfurling. She had an inkling of why-

“You are thinking of accepting courtship this cycle, yes?” It’s not a question, but a statement. One she already knows the answer to.

“I am” you whisper. “If he decides to pursue me, that is”

The comfortable quiet is back, both of you focusing on your respective tasks. You’d always been content just to bask in your Aunt’s presence.

“The Sully boy would be a fool not to court you” Ronal breaks the silence bluntly and you really should've had expected that she already knew.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Where dread usually lives in your heart at this time of year, lies only excitement. Joy, that fragile hope as you prepare for the festival. Anyone who knows you can see the change, you throw yourself head first into ceremony prep. Spend hours sitting with Tsireya eagerly sowing together new pieces of clothing for the festivities.

You sing as you tend to your house work, sweet little tunes that your family is surprised to hear.

Tonowari is beaming, endlessly happy that you are going to give a member of the clan a chance. He’d been questioning your self induced isolation for years, and was eager to see which of his warriors had stolen your heart. Ronal refuses to tell him even though he knows she knows,

“It is not mine to share” his wife rebuff’s every time he questions.

As the day of the Iknimaya draws closer you try to make sure that Neteyam knows that you are open to courtship. You spend a decent amount of time with his family anyway, Tsireya and Lo’ak always connected at the hip and Kiri growing into a close friend.

You ask him about his training, tend to any wounds he may aquire diligently. Laugh at his bad jokes, and listen to his stories of home. He misses the forest, you can tell. You selfishly hope that there isn't a pretty Omaticayan girl waiting for him.

At dinner, in the largest communal mauri, filled to the brim with clans members who are all but vibrating with excitement for the close looming festivities, you navigate the people.

In your hands, a large plate made from a recycled shell piled is high. Fish roasted over the fire, steamed rice and root vegetables that you had harvested yourself.

You’d watched Neteyam along with a handful of other training warriors limp into dinner late. They look tired and worn down.

He’d plopped down next to his family without getting himself food, and that just wouldn't do.

“Jake, Neytiri- I see you” You greet his parents as you approach. The sit close together, always intertwined in one way or another.

‘He idolizes our parents marriage’

You understand Kiri’s words as you watch Toruk Makto and his mate, as you appraise their close bond.

Jake grins, Tuk in his lap. Greeting you right back, easy to conversate with. Neytiri is quieter, hard to read. Intimidating, just like Neteyam who favors her so much in looks. Still the older woman signs the greeting back to you.

“You look really rough” is not what you meant to say to their son. Neteyams brow bones rise and you could kick yourself. Definitely would later.

“Thanks, I feel it” Neteyam responds with a tired chuckle.

Instead you laugh too, albeit awkwardly, trying to remedy the situation “What I mean is, you didn't get yourself food- and I know how exhausting training can be. Here, please eat. I’d hate for you to lose strength this close to your rite”

He accepts the plate of food graciously and you try to ignore the heavy feeling of eyes on you. His families, the clans. People have noticed you, have noticed this act of service. There’s only one thing it can mean.

“Irayo Y/N, I appreciate you” he thanks, making room for you on the log that he’s sat atop “Would you like to sit with us?”

“Very much so- but I promised Elder Raou’wal that I would help him back to his mauri. His legs don't work like they used to, and I don't want him to fall again-” you curse your nature, the fact that you offer your help so freely.

All you want to do is take that seat, so close to Neteyam that your thighs would press against one and others.

“That is very kind” Neteyam soothes “It’s okay, another time”

“Yes, another time” You know you sound like an idiot. You feel like an idiot. Standing before him and his family uninvited.

You need to make a quick escape, overwhelmed by all of the attention. “Please, get some rest before tomorrow. I’ve had to tend to over worked warriors all week”

Neteyam’s grin…is something else. Something not so sweet. Something that makes you flustered, that he’s looking at you like that in front of his parents, in front of the tribe. “Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Will you be there, tomorrow?”

“Of course I will” your response is quick, eager and it just makes that look on his face more intense.

“Good. Then I know everything will go well” his words make your heart beat so loudly your ears ring.

You don’t even know what to say, can barley keep your cool as you utter goodbye to his family, all of them quite obviously amused as you begin to scurry away.

You know the blush is burning up your whole face, that everyone can see your feelings as clear as day.

But-

You can’t leave him like that. Not with him facing is Iknimaya in the morning, with all of its promises of danger.

“May Eywa be with you, tomorrow and always” you give him the quiet blessing, truly hoping that the great mother looks over him.

He softens, physically. All of him slumping, as though you had put a balm on a jagged cut.

You don't wait for a reply.

Tonowari watches the exchange from his place at the head of the room,

Oh.

That is who had caught your eye, the warrior that had broken your resolve.

He shares a look with Ronal, his eyes comically wide and she laughs lowly at him.

“Ah my love, you have always been so slow”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya rituals go as they always go, a long day full of young, strong hearted Na’vi eager to prove themselves. Most of them don’t succeed, at least half of them will need to wait until the next cycle to attempt it again.

Your family is at the center, you stand proudly behind Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal as they guide the young clan members through the rite of passage. Tsireya beside you, knowing that next cycle it will be her and Lo’ak attempting their own rites. Ao’nung cheering on young hunters that he had trained himself.

You love all of your people, the Metkayina one beating heart under Eywa’s watchful eye- yet you can't tear your focus away from Neteyam.

Your eyes are glued to him, and him only. The entire time. You watch, anxious and in awe. He’s so strong, all lean muscle and sharp mind. He mounts his Skimwing on the first try, much to the surprise of his peers. The people cheer him on, whopping loudly.

He’s beautiful, capable and skilled. He’s…stolen something from you. Abducted your soul, enthralled your thoughts in a way that almost felt intrusive.

You watch as the son of the first becomes a son of the sea, a man in both the Metkayina and Omiticaya tribes. A feat that almost none have accomplished.

The Motnaui is tradition, the freshly rited hunters will join the seasoned on a days long hunt. The time in the open ocean solidifies their bond to the tribe, their place that they have earned. Their chief will join them. Tonowari is eager, ecstatic for the time he gets to spend with his new hunters. With his ever growing tribe.

Everyone gathers to see the hunters off, so much love filling the crowded beach. Your people a buzz, tearful. Joyous.

You trail your fingers over the colorful Lei that lies around your neck. It matches the floral wreath nestled atop your head; the orchids are vibrant shades of fuchsia pinks and sunset yellows to represent your family.

They come in all shades, neon greens and baby blues, lilac purples and vibrant reds.

They are traded between your people at this time of year. Elders give them to children, sisters to their brothers. Tonowari wears many around his neck, the visual representation of how beloved he is to his clan.

To give a Lei can be friendly and platonic, sure. Especially if it is one of the dozens that are made just to be handed out- if a person wears multiple for clear decoration and celebration purposes only.

It can also be a very clear invitation for courtship- or at the very least consensual coupling. If a woman takes her lei off her own neck and presents it to a man, it is a sign of ownership. Marking that the specific male is taken for the duration of the fertility season.

You need to give Neteyam yours before he leaves, you want him to know that he has you. That you are his- and that you want him to be yours. That you will wait for him as he hunts and when he returns, he can have all of you.

You’re trying to find him in the crowd, your eyes scanning for the familiar dark blue skin that stands out so shockingly amongst your people-

Neteyam is with his family, all of them exuding proud energy. His mother cups his face in her lithe hands, his sisters hold onto his arms. His father pats his shoulder and his brother stares at him like he’s hung the stars.

You don't want to intrude on the moment, but you have to catch him before he leaves-

It’s like watching a horrible accident, like being witness to carnage that you just can't stop.

Seychelle, a clans member two years your junior, is beautiful. She’s a skilled singer and the daughter of a high ranking fisherman. She’s tall and shapely with pretty eyes, and its her first cycle as an eligible adult. As a woman grown who is available to mate.

She walks right up to Neteyam and his family boldly. Unafraid or ridden by anxiety like you always seem to be. All flirty smiles and fluttering lashes.

You’re too far away, can't hear what she says but you wouldn't want to anyway. Your chest is caving in and you feel like you can't breathe, your ears ring with the lack of oxygen.

You could challenge her. You have a high standing in the clan. You have first choice when it comes to mates,

But instead you just stand there. Bare witness to her taking off her bright orange Lei and slip it around Neteyams neck. He accepts it without a fuss, grinning and you can see his mouth form the words “thank you”.

Your nose burns and tears prick threateningly at your eyes but you know you can not let them fall. Not here.

You do what you do best;

You run away.

Not bothering to explain your exit to anyone, you probably couldn't form words around the lump in your throat anyway, you run as fast as you can. The world feels very far away, like it exists without you in it.

Your family mauri is empty, everyone's still at the beach and you don't even bother making it to your bed. You collapse right inside the entrance as the tears finally over take you and your eyes flood over.

What were you thinking?

How had you read this whole thing so wrong?

Your mind is dangerous, cruel in its confused, hurt state. It assaults you and you sob into your hands. You feel stupid now, in the special clothes you'd donned. Your hair twisted meticulously-

He had never been interested in you, you’d taken his innate kindness and skewed it. Neteyam had just been nice to you and you being the simple minded girl you were- had tried to force it into something more.

You curse yourself, curse your heart. Curse that fragile hope that you had clung to so desperately.

You cry until you feel sick, your eyes swollen and back tight from sobbing. You’re dizzy and tired by the time you crawl over to your bed. You don't even get under the covers, just stare blankly at the wall of the mauri as tears roll down your cheeks.

Who knew one person could produce so many tears? You wonder when your body will run out. You don't know how much time passes, only aware that darkness starts to fill the space as the evening eclipse arises.

“Oh, YN” the silence is broken by your cousin's soft voice.

Tsireya had wondered where you had gone, had been confused about your departure until she clocked Neteyam with a Lei around his neck that was quite obviously not yours.

“I’m sorry” Is all she whispers as she slips into the bed next to you, her arm winding around your middle.

It starts a whole nother round of tears. Of crying, mourning what you thought you could have.

“I-I-I’m so s-stupid” you stutter, snotty and muffled. She shakes her head, tears of her own starting to form as she holds you tighter.

“No, don't say that cousin. You’re not stupid” Tsireya soothes as she pets your hair. It hurts to see you in such a state. This had to be a mistake, she had been so sure of Neteyams feelings for you. Everyone had.

You shake your head, because you know you are. You knew you had little chance and still you’d paraded yourself in front of him like an idiot.

Never again, you vow to yourself.

To your shattered heart.

Wow, okay I didnt expect this to be so big, but I got so caught up in Metkayina Lore building that I kind of got sidetracked. Safe to say 90% of this story is going to be canon divergent. All of this Lore is my own creation and not Mr. Cameron's.

I have to give a shout out to two authors in the Avatar fandom that have inspired me the most as I write this.

@tiredmamaissy has really carved out a niche when it comes to the sexual nature of Pandora. I love the way she portrays Na'vi relationships and if this story leans a bit A/B/O its because I cant see the Na've not going to Heat's/Ruts now. She's just so good.

@loaksky when I tell you that reading her work makes me want to hone my craft, I mean that shit. She is a wordsmith in a way that you don't see much anymore. I am obsessed with how she long hand story tells and I def feel inspired everytime I read one of her fics. Queen of will they wont they/ slow burn.

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar smut #smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x you #Metkayina reader

[coco-loco-nut]

Baby

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: Baby fever hits different when it’s George holding the baby

a/n: thanks to @glitterquadricorn for dropping the hint, it was received. i hope you enjoy it 🫶

requests open masterlist

—————

You always swore that you were never going to have kids. Well, maybe not never, but certainly not soon. George had talked to you about it, but respected that you didn’t feel ready and it wasn’t like you both were getting up there in age.

Now, you are sure that George had an ulterior motive than simply spending time with you and his family on a boat after driving around Monaco with his niece and nephew. One moment you were talking with his parents, and the next you are watching him gently hold a baby.

“Makes you want one, doesn’t it,” Alison says, noticing who you are looking at.

“No, not yet. But he does look utterly adorable holding her,” you say, ignoring the bit of baby fever growing in you. Okay, maybe a baby wouldn’t be so bad. It would be the cutest combination of you and George, and it would be a wonderful companion for when George is away. Oh, and showing up to races in a little race suit, then taking your kid karting just like it’s Daddy.

“Enjoy being young and child free, there is no rush,” she reassures you. You give her a thankful smile and stand up, walking over to George.

“Hi, Baby,” you coo, taking George’s niece from him. You may not want a kid yet, but you adored George’s nieces and nephew. George both loves and hates seeing you with the kids. He loves the way that you care for them, but he hates that it makes him want to have kids with you when you aren’t ready. It’s this moment that solidifies to him that he wants to marry you.

“Alright, it’s baby’s feeding time,” you pout as your favorite baby is taken from you.

“Auntie y/n!” Milly runs over and jumps onto the spot beside you.

“My favorite Milly!” you hug her. “did Georgie abandon you?” you ask her, hearing the jet ski out on the ocean.

“He’s with Leo on the jet ski,” Milly pouts.

“Well, that just means you get to spend time with the better one of us,” you say and wrap your arms around her. She looks tired from the sun as she rests her head on your shoulder. The two of you chat while George takes Leo on a ride.

“When are you and Uncle Georgie getting married?” she yawns.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, someday,” you gently squeeze her, letting her fall asleep on your shoulder. That’s how George finds the two of you, he quickly snaps a photo.

The family has been taking a lot of photos on this boat day trip with the intent of making a photo album. The sun is starting to set, so you head back to shore. You wake Milly up, reluctantly carrying her back to her parents.

“We will see you tomorrow for breakfast,” you stand a few steps behind George as he hugs his family goodbye. You follow behind, making your rounds before going back to his apartment.

“I am wiped, that sun makes me want to nap for a year,” you yawn as you enter the apartment.

“Cuddles sound nice,” George wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. You hug him back, soaking in the moment.

“Go take a shower, then join me in bed,” you tell him, knowing he will want to clean the seawater off of himself. You quickly strip and put on one of his shirts before crawling in bed. George joins you a minute later.

“The kids love you, you are a natural with them,” he says, pulling you close.

“Please, the image of you holding the baby made me consider having a baby right now. You are dad material,” you chuckle as George blushes.

“You looked just as beautiful holding her too,” he says, kissing the top of your head. You turn so you can look at him.

“I know we don’t want a baby right now, but we can always practice making one,” you wiggle your eyebrows causing him to laugh.

“You minx,” George grins, leaning down to kiss you.

It is safe to say that you practiced once or twice that night. George proposes in front of his family the next night, you are quick to say yes. A year later, you get married in a small ceremony back in England.

A few years later, once George is more settled with the career, and you have traveled the world together, you decide that if you were to get pregnant, both of you wouldn’t be upset, but you weren’t going to make a conscious effort to have a baby as soon as possible. You are both enjoying the aunt and uncle life, anyway.

A year later, you are sitting in the doctors office, a rare day mid season that George can join you, waiting to find out the gender of your baby. You could’ve found out months ago, but your appointments always seemed to be when George was away at a race. He always did make sure to fly you to close races and come home as often as possible.

“What do you want?” you ask your husband, who is standing beside you, playing with your hair.

“A healthy mom and baby,” he smiles as you roll your eyes.

“Boring answer. You are such a girl dad, so I hope it’s a baby girl,” you tell him, gently rubbing your stomach. You just know it’s a girl.

You were right, you sent a selfie of you and George with the sonogram and the gender to the Russell family group chat.

“Should we announce it?” You ask George. Since you were well into the second trimester, you haven’t been to a race in at least a month, and fans were getting curious.

“Do you want to? I don’t want fans to overwhelm you,” George holds the car door open for you, extending his hand for you to hold as you climb in.

“I think I’m ready, we should before rumors start,” you tell him once he gets into the drivers seat.

“I will follow your lead, my love,” he tells you. You have a maternity shoot the next day, so you wait until you get the photos back to announce it. The outpouring support is overwhelming, and the fans are excited to see you at the Monaco Grand Prix. It makes you all the more excited for your little family.

George is incredibly thoughtful throughout the pregnancy, always having meals delivered to you, and he is a new level of clingy when he is home with you. You don’t mind because you are getting doted on when your body feels awful, so the idea of letting him do everything is appealing. He does hate the body pillow, he cannot wait until he can easily cuddle you again.

“George, I love you and this baby, but I want her out and I wish we never had sex,” you groan, your whole body aching as you struggle to keep your breath even when speaking.

“I heard that sex can help speed up labor,” George says and you perk up.

“Let’s have sex,” you tell him eagerly, just wanting to not be pregnant anymore.

“You have such a way with words, darling, so seductive,” he jokes, helping you off the chair you are sitting on.

“Let’s go, you got me into this mess a few years ago while holding a baby, now it’s time to get me out of it.”

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #george russell #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell imagines

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A short skip over the winter break and into 2024 season.. Warnings: 18+ only, fluffies WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight

Christmas Eve 2023 - French Alps The air was still when you woke to a fresh dumping of snow on the mountain. The window provided a picture of tranquillity and the embers in the fire gave a peaceful glow to the dark wood walls. Charles had disappeared at dawn for a morning ski with Arthur and you squinted against the white glare to try and find them on the mountainside. 

You probably could have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the door crashing open and the sudden weight of a child on your legs. Penelope crawled up to the headboard with a squeal and jumped into your arms as Max just reached the bedroom door. 

“P, watch out for auntie’s tummy,” Max reminded. She now had to watch out for yours and Aunt Vicky’s tummy, since your sister had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. “Sorry, she slept the whole flight so she’s full of energy. I tried to get her to play with Luka but she wanted you.”

“That’s okay,” you said as she burrowed under the blankets and put her cold feet on Lando’s back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

Penelope nodded eagerly while Lando slowly woke and you were grateful he was wearing a hideous pair of santa-themed pyjama pants. With even more children around for Christmas this year, everyone had taken to wearing pyjamas. It was good for moments like these, but bad for quick access when you were spooning in the night.

“Papa let me open some presents early!”

Max disappeared out of the room with a wave, heading back to his suite with Kelly down the hall. The small mountain retreat had been completely rented out for another combined family holiday and at the rate the Norris’, Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s were procreating, an entire resort would be needed to host you all next year. Your bet was on Max and Lorenzo becoming fathers next. 

“How exciting! And what did you get?”

Penelope held out her arm to show a mermaid inspired charm bracelet. “That’s beautiful!”

“It’s got Ariel!” she exclaimed, pointing to a red haired mermaid as she bounced excitedly. 

“Is that an earthquake?” Lando asked as he scooped the little girl up into a hug. “No, it’s little P. Why are you waking your favourite uncle up so early?”

“You’re not my favourite,” she said with a fit of giggles.

Lando hung his head and shook it with fake sadness. “Kids are brutal.”

“Kids are honest,” you corrected before kissing his pout away.

“Gross,” P said as she screwed up her face and started to climb off the bed to find ‘Maxie’. She did a sudden u-turn and scrambled across the bed to gently touch your stomach before leaning closer and whispering, “Bye-bye, baby. Love you.”

She was gone again, this time the door swinging shut as she left with no farewell for you or Lando. He let out a little chuckle as he pushed you back into the pillows and drifted down the bed, taking the blankets with him. 

“Hello, baby,” he murmured softly to the bump. At just more than half way along your bump could no longer be mistaken for overindulgence or bloating. “You are looking lovely and round this morning.”

“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you chuckled as you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Shh, I’m having a conversation with my daughter, no eavesdropping,” he warned with a smirk before brushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to your skin before continuing his conversation. The moustache and shaped beard he was slowly but surely growing thicker tickled with each whispered word, the movement of his lips dragging the coarse hairs over your sensitive skin until goosebumps prickled. 

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said with a smile as the door creaked open and Charles walked in with wind-kissed cheeks. “I just want to hurry up and hold you.”

“Patience, mon cher,” Charles said with a grin, depositing the second layer of cashmere he had worn under his ski jacket on the coat hook. “It’s only four more months.”

Lando groaned at the reminder before shifting on the bed to make space for Charles. 

“Anything you want to add this morning?” you asked. 

You reached for the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it down if it was a no when a knock had you freeze. No, it wasn’t a knock. The thud hadn’t come from outside, but inside. You dropped the shirt and stared at the jut of your hip, right where the skin went soft as it stretched up to your ribs. That soft tissue bulged ever so slightly as you felt the strange sensation of pressure and it drew a gasp that shocked your boyfriends.

“What? What is it?” Lando asked, his voice thick with concern. 

“Give me your hand,” you ordered, already reaching for one of each as you placed them on the spot. “Shhh, just shhh.”

You felt it again and Charles exhaled a shaky breath that ended in a joyous laugh before grabbing Lando’s hand and shifting it slightly. 

“Wha-”

“Shh,” you urged as Charles pressed a finger to his lips. The silence grew and everyone held their breath, waiting.

The air wooshed from Lando with an exclamation, “No fucking way!” His eyes grew wide and he stared at his palm as if the imprint of his daughter’s foot was permanently held on his skin. “Holy shit! She…she…kicked.” 

Charles wrapped an arm around Lando as their shimmering eyes met yours. Pure happiness saturated the room, spilling out into the hall as the door opened and Oliver appeared a little worried. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Lando screeching.”

“Everything’s perfect,” Lando grinned, ignoring the joke he had heard since hitting puberty. 

“She just started kicking,” Charles explained with an equally bright grin, while you danced your fingers along your side, trying to tickle her foot. 

“Core memory unlocked, huh?” Oliver laughed at his brother’s eagerness, remembering the first kicks with his own daughters. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, we’ll be there soon,” Charles said as Oliver closed the door again.

“Do we have to?” Lando asked as he curled back down and stared at your stomach intently. “I could watch this all day.”

“You can stay but I am hungry, and she is now shy,” you teased as you pulled your shirt back into place and climbed out of bed. With a groan he followed you to the walk-in wardrobe, just like you knew he would. 

“Is the powder good?” Lando asked Charles while they changed into some casual day clothes perfect for the warm interior of the retreat.

“It’s perfect,” Charles all but moaned, it was hard to believe they were talking about snow but both of them loved to ski. “Arthur wants to head back out after lunch.”

Lando looked at you and you waved a hand. “Sheesh, babe, I’m not your keeper. You can go if you want.” 

Lando hated being away the most, not that Charles enjoyed it, but there wasn’t the same level of separation anxiety that Lando had. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”

“On my own?” you laughed and slipped your feet into some simple flats before heading to the door. As soon as it opened the cacophony of everyone congregating in the great room down the hall spilled into your room. “I couldn’t be on my own if I tried.”

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxvertappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,382,589 others yourusername This kid scored the gene pool the lottery. Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

Round One - Bahrain 2024 Fuel fumes drifted up from the pitlane to the balcony you stood upon as the start of the season's first race grew closer. It was strange to look down the entire length of billboards and see no new faces among the driver line up. Fernando still filled the garage beside Lance, but you held no resentment for your replacement. He was making the most out of an opportunity and it almost gave you hope that even after leaving Formula 1, maybe - just maybe - there was a way to get back in. 

Next year would be interesting with so many contracts up for renewal. It was a chance to see new faces on the grid, or perhaps some old faces returning if rumours were to be believed. You wouldn’t mind seeing Sebastian make a return. For the moment, everyone was still too busy talking about Lewis and his move to Ferrari to give much thought to the other shocks that might come with the disruption. The open seat at Mercedes was going to be sought after by every driver stuck in a midfield car. 

“You look deep in thought.”

You broke away from staring at the starting lights to accept a cup of herbal tea from your mother. “Just thinking about how the grid will look next year.”

“Gotta get through this one first,” she reminded. “Speaking of…it’s going to be hard having a newborn at home with those two away so much.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the balcony rail as you blew the steam from the mug. The wall calendar at home was already marked with the first half of the season, all the nights Lando and Charles would be away circled in red ink. It had been collectively agreed that flying with a newborn wasn’t a great idea so you would only attend the races you could drive to until she was at least three months old. “This year’s calendar is fucking intense.”

“I want you to know you can call me day or night, sweetie, and I’ll be on the next plane.” She reached for your chin and turned you to face her as your throat clogged with emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to do on your own, you saw it firsthand.”

“You’ve got your own life, I don’t want you to drop it all for me.”

She laughed softly and wrapped you in a careful hug. “You’re my daughter, you are my life, my granddaughter is too.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, seeing the cameras in the pitlane pointed your way. “Gah, you made me cry. Now I’ll be on fucking Drive to Survive. I can already see the subtitles ‘Y/N crying as the season starts without her’. Wankers.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at the camera and flipped them off, making you choke on a laugh. “So much maturity for a grandmother.”

“Yeah well I have been wanting to do that for a while, and I figure I can’t get you fired since you’re unemployed.”

You shared a grin and thought maybe you had more in common than you realised. You thought your fight came from Jos but now you saw a flash of it in her protectiveness and your chest warmed.

“I’m not unemployed, I’m a Lady of Leisure.” You laughed at the roll of her eyes before adding. “I might even get a Birkin for a push present to complete the initiation.”

“What the hell is a push present?”

“It’s a present a new mother gets for destroying her vagina pushing a baby out.”

It was her turn to choke on a laugh. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently so.” 

“Does the baby not count as a gift?”

“Hmm, maybe you should go ask them?” you said as you jutted your head to the plethora of influencers walking around the grid taking selfies with everyone. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, quite content to stay out of the fray like you.

“No, thank you. Oh, there they are.”

You scanned the crowd and saw Max, Charles, and Lando walking out to the grid together, their heads huddled close as they tried to hear each other over the crowd. They made a beeline to the strips of red carpet and Max stood between the other two as they took their places for the national anthem.

“Looks like the podium lineup to me,” your mother whispered.

You chewed your lip and hoped the data from testing was as promising as it looked for McLaren and Ferrari. But you could never tell quite how much of it was real with the strategies and sandbagging. “I hope so, my boy’s need a good start this year.”

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

[stormsthatrage]

Tsuna is kind. Tsuna is compassionate. Tsuna, unlike many bosses, does not see himself as more than simply because of his station.

The only people who are capable of bringing out the entitled, spoiled, possessive Mafia Prince - the tiny piece of Tsuna's heart that is a stereotypically behaved Vongolian Sky - are his closest family. And even then, they can only manage it in very specific circumstances.

Allow me to clarify:

Imagine Tsuna, in a café filled with rubble and smoke, looking down at Hayato's fallen form. He stares at the blood seeping out from Hayato's chest - the chest that was torn open when Hayato jumped in front of a bullet meant for Tsuna.

(The assassin's corpse is cooling on the other side of the room, dead too late at the edge of Takeshi's blade.)

Tsuna keeps his eyes locked on Hayato. Hayato, who lies limp and motionless, no matter how much sun flame Ryouhei pumps in to him.

It feels like a dream. It feels fake. He feels detached from it all, like he's watching the world from far above and emotions can only reach him after traveling through a mile of cotton.

"Move," he tells his sun, his dying will flaring in the midst of his strange numbness.

His sun yanks his hands back, as instantaneously as if he were following a reflex instead of words.

Tsuna surveys the scene for another second, still through that mile of cotton, and then decides, "No. No, I refuse."

And, after all, does he not have a right to? He, the holder of the Vongola Sky Ring, the Guard of the Vertical Axis, the Sky of Skies. Is it not his birthright to seize hold of, to command, the threads of time?

He reaches out, burning, and undoes it.

An orange glow erupts around the two of them - his Hayato, and the assassin.

And then there is the assassin, alive again, aiming at a spot Tsuna is no longer at.

And there is Hayato, alive again, throwing himself to protect where Tsuna once stood.

Tsuna already has an arm raised, and sends a blast of power at the assassin. The assassin crumples. And then Tsuna is turning around, spinning towards Hayato, and he feels, within him, a hot, violent rage swell up. How dare he. How dare he.

He stalks over to his Right Hand, hands shaking with anger, and he spits, "You."

His Right Hand looks at him, all wide-eyed and taken off guard. As if he's not a fucking thief.

Tsuna snarls up at him, right up in his space, "Sit."

His Right Hand's knees fold. He just barely manages to catch himself against the table directly behind him, and it's not so much sitting as propping himself up, but Tsuna doesn't fucking care.

Tsuna's fists clench, and he stares directly into those green, green eyes. "You," he seethes, "took an oath, Gokudera Hayato." He feels himself burning, dying will an inferno on his skin. "You swore yourself to me, yes? Your life is mine. You do not have the right to take it from me."

His Right Hand, his storm, his Hayato, says nothing, eyes wide and face pale and lips parted ever so slightly in shock.

Tsuna feels incandescent with rage. "You dare-"

And then he finds himself losing the words, swaying in place as exhaustion slams down across him.

The last thing he feels is Hayato's arms coming up around him, warm and alive and oh so gentle, and the last thing he hears is Takeshi, saying - absolutely delighted, Tsuna knows that tone - "Oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up."

And then darkness.

#khr headcanons #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #gokudera hayato #tsuna's brain refuses to process what just happened #and it shows

[asylumdream]

Drawing project of my Hero Rosario (Nicknames Rosy or Ari) for every 10 levels I gain in Dragonfable-

Closeups and story under the cut

Rosario was from a poorer hunting family, just trying to get by. One winter was particularly harsh, and being the youngest mouth to feed… They saw the writing on the wall, and fled. Deciding that at least their memories of their family wouldn't get tainted. If they ran away themself there was a chance they wouldn't have been abandoned. They got spotted and picked up by a Guardian who had happened to be wandering about, and from that moment on was a kid of Falconreach through and through. They were thoroughly obssesed with books, burying themself in any they could get their hands on. They would spend days locked away in the library at the gaurdian tower pooring over history books, tactics books, magic books… they loved it. Their dayly routine was to wake up, go early to Cysero to beg him for any books he would sell them for their measly 3 coin weekly alownce (and some days he would have one he'd be willing to give up in exchange for a favor or two) then help serve breakfast in the messhall. After that they would jump head first back into their studies until they had to be guided away from their books for dinner. Then they would read until lights out. When they were old enough to venture outside the wall without supervision they would make the treck to warlic's tent to beg books off of him, and anyone else who'd be willing to spare some litterature for them. They became quite the shut in, so bad that they had no friends their age nor did they ever go outside save for the early monring. Their caretaker had had enough of it, and forced them to join the heros of falcon reach to 'Put all that brian power of yours to good use lad! You love your magicks so much? well learn to cast a spell out there!". And so kicked out they were, to face the wide open world of lore.

between doing random chores for the knights of the Pentaganol Knights and stealing the egg back from Drakath they are keen to keep up their studies…. But find that this whole 'adventureing' thing is kind of fun actually! Twilly isnt half bad company and will listen to them ramble on and on about magic theory without interupting them.

Their dragon egg has hatched! to their awe and amazment, an adorable little baby is introduced to the world. they name the dragon 'Sweetpea' after the flowers it enjoys burning to a crisp while it sneezes. And with Sweetpea born Rosario is off to the races, spesifically the race against Sepulchure to secure the elemental orbs and prevent his usage of them. They've heard of the orbs before and know the history and Awesome Power they hold- and though Rosario can't fathom why Sepulchure wants them it can't be for anything good.

With Sweetpea at their heal Rosario goes to convince anyone with any access to the orbs to help them keep the orbs safe- The Sandsea was horrible, they were picking sand out of there armor for weeks, but at least zhoom is a reasonable person with a respectable work ethic. Then he offers to teach them to become a ranger- To Teach Them??? Say no more. Rosario has always been a quick study, and having been banned from their library for the foreseeable future the next best thing is to get taught in the real world. At every opportunity then on they try and learn all that they can, trying to find this paladin they've heard of… And it turns out that paladin shares their love of clever puns and wordplay! Useing light magic to kill undead while learning the ways of a paladin (and necromancer, and deathknight) is a dream for them, and Artix makes surprisingly good company! He isn't patient enough for their lectures on the mechanics of magics, but at least he's polite to nod along. They find they dont mind it too much.

Being a veracious learner, is it any wonder they took to soulweaving like a duck to water? No mater their misgivings about Tomix's… Friend… They are honored to be taught a whole new skill they've never even Heard of before. Not to mention… It's fun being the one teasing instead of the one being teased for once- and Tomix is a bit of an easy target. The whole endeavor, as stressful as managing greed was, was a much needed break after the…. water orb….

Things were good! They had secured the orbs and backtracked to learn the ways of the Pirate and Ninja! things were looking up! Then Sepulchure got the orbs anyways. Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it! So they do. And it's great! the world is saved and they can rest! Not ten days later fire imps attack Falconreach with refugees pooring in from portals and Warlic is nowhere to be found but Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it! So they do. The spell that this Jaania was under… it is as facinating as it is terrifying to them, and they greet the girl who was broken out- a spite fire, but they feel a kindered spirit in her. They want to pull her aside and explain everything that's happened so far, give her the complete information they know they'd crave in her position- but then the professor is ushering them all to a grand battle without so much as a 'how do you do'. Wargoth by Rosario's observation seems to create mana when casting, rather then destroy it. So if they can provoke him to cast fast enough, they are sure they could burn him out, the only problem is the massive amount of free floating mana that would create- it would wipe out half the planet for sure. But they've not researched magicks their whole life for nothing, they know of and even collect the seeds of a spicies of plant that rapidly absorbs mana when it grows, if they can just- But no, the professor has a Better Idea. Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it. They sure hope their old caretaker is proud of how accommodating and understanding they are being. And they defeat Wargoth, with much collateral damage and close calls- but at least Warlic is back together and now they can focus on the Important Things of rebuilding after Sepulchure and this damage- as well as meeting with and learning from the people who fled from Wargoth's advancments. Sweetpea is safe and sound and all is-…

#dragonfable #df hero #dfanart #art #my art #Im fairly proud of how these turned out #We shall see how the next 5 illustrations go and how Rosario's character shakes out #Right now theyre very Twilight Sparkle!My little Pony Friendship is Magic-esque #Not great at comunicating and a bit of a know it all #Strong sense of justice and deep love for the mechanics of the natrual world

[f1letters]

midnight rain | gr63

"chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight"

summary: what happens when he decides his career will always be more important than their relationship?

warning: angst, overall just sad, heartbreak, breakup, swearing, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of hate from fans and media, lowkey toxic George, the beginning of the story takes place at the end of 2021 when George was announced as the new Mercedes driver, happy-ish ending

pairing: george russell x reader

word count: 3.1k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts not only by the reader but also by other people.

well... this story REALLY wanted to be posted, iykyk 🤠 hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy the FINAL version of this story! haha

masterlist

Rain

Life as we know it is made of cycles.

A conversation started with a hello ends with a goodbye. The beautiful birth ends in a painful death. An open door eventually closes. A sunrise in the morning ends in a sunset at the end of the day. Light always ends in darkness.

And love is very similar to this philosophy of nature.

Like the long-awaited magnificent spring flowers, it is born out of nowhere, giving a new colour and a completely new meaning to our lives. It symbolizes a fresh start, a new chance. With it comes enthusiasm, warmth, eagerness. You wake up in the morning happier, looking forward to facing the day ahead. Everything looks better, more colourful, happier.

Spring was in fact beginning when Y/N met George.

She could still remember the 16-year-old boy at the back of the classroom, constantly lost in thought as he stared out the window. His eyes were on the pink blossoms beginning to bloom on the long branches of the old tree in the high school garden. The girl found herself thinking "Why does he look out there so much?" and hence her curiosity arose. She wanted, no, she needed to meet the quiet guy in the class.

She remembered it all too well, and she was convinced that she would never be able to forget it.

She would never be able to forget how no one made her laugh as he did. How his hand fit hers as if they were made for each other. How the scent of his perfume made her heart beat faster.

Young Y/N didn't know if soul mates were true, or a myth created by hopeless romantics. But of one thing she was sure: if anyone was hers, it was George Russell.

Two halves of the same heart made to unite, two souls destined to meet in this life and all the ones to come, two bodies attached by an invisible thread.

However, every spring inevitably leads to cold, harsh winters. Blue skies are replaced by dark clouds. The sun rays by thunder. The flowers by snow. The colour by grey.

Again, love always follows nature's trend and, as time goes by, it too inevitably leads to rain.

He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

Chasing that fame, he stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

Years passed and with them went birthdays, anniversaries, Christmases, New Years, family gatherings and vacations. 

With them went births and funerals, laughter and tears, fights and reconciliations.

But although the wind changed with the seasons, one thing that always stayed the same was the passionate way that Y/N unconditionally supported her partner.

Seven years later, the young woman screamed his name from the audience with the same intensity as when she saw him win the first time in Formula 3. Her heart seemed to jump out of her chest with the same anticipation as when she saw him become a Formula 2 champion.

It didn't really matter to her whether he was racing karts or Formula 1 cars, as long as he was happy and fulfilled, and although his world brought cages and fences with it, she never felt so free as when she had him by her side.

Everything suddenly seemed to change with the announcement of George's new contract at reigning champions Mercedes.

With the career opportunity of a lifetime came happiness, gratitude, finally the reward for all the effort not only by him but by everyone who was part of his support system.

But on the other hand, what for some was paradise... for others has become a torturous hell on earth.

All of a sudden, all eyes were on the Brit. All the media wrote about the talented star who was to succeed seven-time champion, Lewis Hamilton. All the attention was on him, and so was all the pressure.

And to be perfectly blunt, George lived for it. The fame, the luxury, the focus on him, it was everything he ever dreamed of. 

He lived for the flashes, for the applause, for the screams of the fans. 

The lights that seemed to blind Y/N were swiftly becoming the cause of the driver's tunnel vision.

My town was a wasteland

Full of cages, full of fences

Pageant queens and big pretenders

But for some, it was paradise

In the midst of all the chaos, the same eyes that put the driver on a pedestal were the ones that threw knives at the innocent girl for simply... Existing.

In the blink of an eye, and with her boyfriend's last season in the Williams team now wrapping up, all of the young woman's movements started to be carefully studied, millimetre by millimetre.

How dare she be so happy and smiling ear to ear when he just finish the race dead last.

Look at that frown on her face when her boyfriend scored points in a weak car like that.

She looks so annoyed to be there, so ungrateful.

She has a millionaire boyfriend and yet she doesn't have the money to hire a decent stylist.

My boy was a montage

A slow-motion, love potion

Jumping off things in the ocean

I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

Everything was a critique. Because she did something, or because she didn't. Because she said this, or because she didn't say that. Because she used a white that was too white, or because she used a black that was too black.

George Russell was a montage, and she was just an accidental stain beside him ruining the perfect picture.

But she tried. 

For him, she tried to be the bride people wanted for him. And nothing hurts more than trying your absolute best and still not being good enough.

George's focus was solely on making his own name in the world of motorsports and Y/N ended up forgotten and overlooked by the man while she was facing a world of hate alone.

He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

Chasing that fame, he stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

Suddenly two halves that once made a whole became two pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit together.

She was sunshine, he was midnight rain.

Y/N was sitting on her couch, just like every night. Propped up on her beige pillows, the young woman followed her daily routine of masochism and scrolled through screens and screens of comments about her, mentally taking notes of what could be improved.

She shouldn't do it, and she knew it herself, but the desire for approval and validation from others was more important to her than keeping her heart intact.

The unexpected sound of her doorbell woke her back to the real world and the girl was immediately confused, as she wasn't expecting anyone at that time of night.

The only company she wanted at that moment was the thunder that lit up the living room every couple of minutes.

The woman got up, putting her hands comfortably in the pockets of her sweater, and walked towards the entrance of her apartment. She looked through the silver peephole and a wave of panic ran through her entire body.

Fuck me, the team party.

Amid all the stress, Y/N completely forgot about the invitation until now she saw her boyfriend, in a full suit, standing there looking at the expensive watch on his wrist, indicating that she was fighting a ticking time bomb.

When she opened the door, George let himself in without even looking at her.

"So? We're already late." The man questioned, still with his vision glued to the counted minutes, while Y/N froze in her place, in her pyjamas, not knowing what to say.

"Why aren't you ready?" Russell questioned, confused and slightly upset with the girl. "It's almost midnight."

"Sorry my love, I completely forgot" Y/N answered sincerely, approaching her partner and placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

"How? I told you multiple times." The boy spoke angrily, releasing a frustrated sigh. "Come on. Go get ready quickly so we can get out of here. We're already going to be the last ones to arrive. Good job, Y/N." The irony escaped his tongue.

Although the guilt was already consuming her insides, the emotional exhaustion associated with the team only made her want to stay home more. She didn't have the energy to socialize, to make small talk, to keep up the shiny appearances.

"I don't feel like going, to be honest." The woman confessed, exhausted, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively.

It came like a postcard

Picture perfect shiny family

Holiday peppermint candy

But for him, it's every day

"You never fucking do." His voice rose in pitch as he brought his hand to her hair, tugging at it, irritated with his girlfriend. "It's excuse after excuse. You never stop to think this shit is important to me and my career."

The words that escaped his mouth fell on the young woman like a bucket of cold water and, like the deafening lightning outside, the darkness charged through her and consumed her utterly.

There was no turning back.

"You must be fucking kidding me. This has to be a joke." She laughed humourless, in disbelief. "I'm the one who doesn't care. Me."

"What the fuck are you trying to say?" His eyes landed on her, sharp as knives. "Come on, say what you want to say. You started it, now you better finish it."

"What I mean is, I'm done with this picture perfect act. I'm tired of doing everything for you and getting nothing in return other than scorn, indifference, cold words." The girl screamed, releasing the feelings she had hidden for so long. "I never demand anything from you, I do what you ask me to do, I go where you want me to go, I act how I should act."

Y/N felt tears form in her eyes as she continued her rant. "All of that and what do I get in return? Nothing. Not even a single thank you. It's like you don't even care about me at all." A sob escaped the girl.

"Don't be dramatic, Y/N. For God's sake." George shook his head, completely dismissing his longtime partner's admissions.

"See?" A sob escaped the girl, now shattered and heartbroken. "It's all about you. I have zero value in this relationship. What are we even doing in it if you only care about your fucking self and Mercedes and Formula 1? I'm nobody in your life. You don't have space for me in your life anymore."

The driver looked dumbfounded at the girl in pyjamas while trying to understand what he was feeling in the face of her accusations.

Ignoring the time and the party that awaited him, George turned his back on his girlfriend, leaving her alone to cry sitting on the edge of her sofa, and went to her balcony, closing the glass door and creating a physical barrier between them.

How did things go so wrong all of a sudden?

Neither of them understood how such a warm, sunny love story could lead to the beginning of such a cold, rainy end.

So I peered through a window

A deep portal, time travel

All the love we unravel

And the life I gave away

'Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain

Putting some distance between them at that moment was undoubtedly the only viable option to avoid ruining everything. Although the future of the two was uncertain, both would rather die than tarnish the past that they shared over the years.

One minute became five, five became ten, and ten became twenty. 

In her anticipation, the sound of the clock hands seemed even louder than the thunderstorm on the other side of the window to Y/N.

Eventually, George returned to the living room, with his jacket now over his arm and a few drops of rain running down his forehead, resembling the tears that now also fell from his sad eyes.

Without breaking the deafening silence between them, the boy moved to the sofa and took his place next to the trembling girl, not a word escaping both of their mouths.

They were both afraid, but they knew what inevitably had to happen.

"This isn't working anymore, Y/N." George was the first to speak, sighing. "This is not healthy for either of us."

The young woman's head and heart battled within her.

On one hand, she knew; she knew it was right and she agreed that it would be better to end it there than to ruin something that until then had been wonderful, even with its challenges.

But her heart…the poor thing wasn't willing to give up the one person who she believed to be the love of her life.

The girl stood up abruptly, making Russell's neck turn towards her, caught by surprise. "No, no, it can't be. I'll just go get dressed and we will go to the party and everything will be fi-."

"Y/N." The man got up and grabbed her hands, keeping her at arm's length. "This. Us. It's hopeless. It's for the best."

"You can't do this to me." The girl screamed, full-on crying and sobbing now, in complete denial. "You can't, you just can't. Not after all the life I gave away for you. You can't, George."

He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

Chasing that fame, he stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

She couldn't help but think of all the sacrifices she'd made for him, for his success even against her own well-being.

All the long flights she took to the other end of the world to support him no matter what place he ended up in. All the plans she cancelled to attend his celebrations, galas and dinners. All the mental health she put at risk. And now…she was alone, with nothing, no future, no hopes, no goals, no dreams.

She simply couldn't imagine a world where her future didn't involve him.

"This can't be the end…" She whispered, letting her inner thoughts escape.

George let his forehead rest against hers, savouring what they both knew were their last moments.

"I'm sorry for everything, love, I really am. You deserve so much more than this. But we want different things in our lives now, one of us would've ended up unhappy and resentful for having to be the one sacrificing everything."

The girl's silence was more than an answer for George, understanding that she agreed with him, even though both hearts felt like they were being ripped out of their chests at that moment.

The driver lifted his head until his lips reached the top of her head, where he placed a lingering, heartfelt kiss. His eyes closed tightly, trying to prevent more tears from spilling at the sound of the small girl's cries.

George broke away from the girl and, after letting his eyes study her image one last time, he walked to the apartment door and just left, not looking back once.

He knew that if he did he would never be able to make the right thing and let their beautiful story end there.

He wanted it comfortable, I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

Chasing that fame, he stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

How to move on when the person you love leaves? Time.

And like the seasons, time moves on.

You learn to get out of bed again in the morning. Getting dressed to go to your family. Gaining motivation to get on the bus and go to work. Accepting invitations to have a drink or go out with friends, even when you want nothing but to stay in bed crying, eating some ice cream.

You don't feel whole all of a sudden, you might still feel like a part of you is missing but you learn to feel... okay.

Time moved forward, and Y/N slowly began to regain her happiness, now depending on no one but her.

Her life went on and she got just what she wanted: anonymity, peace, comfort.

After a year, she never thought of him daily like she used to.

Except when she turned on the TV in her hotel room, after returning from a girls' night in Cancun, and she saw him.

On top of the podium, the driver had finally accomplished his dream of winning a Grand Prix Prix for Mercedes and, with that, add his name in Formula 1's history.

She couldn't help thinking about the "what if"s.

While she would never be able to admit it to another soul, she couldn't help but think about how much she still hoped he was the one.

I guess sometimes we all get

Just what we wanted, just what we wanted

And he never thinks of me

Except for when I'm on TV

Whether haunted by the memories of them or the happiness she could only feel with him by her side, Y/N would survive the heartbreak, and she knew it.

Of course, she still loved him and she believed there would never be a day when she didn't.

But the beautiful thing about love is that you can love someone and want all the success in the world for them… and still go on without them.

What cold, dark, sad winter it was.

But spring always finds a way to come back.

I guess sometimes we all get

Some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted

And I never think of him

Except on midnights like this

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(taglist continues in the comments)

thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

But I'm Only Looking At You: Part Four

A/N: And we're back to Regency Cassian! And this time, there's no squinting needed for the prompts because Lion Hearted was the original day this fic was meant to be posted back when it was still meant to be just a one-shot and not 5 parts.... Anywho! Hope everyone has been enjoying @cassianappreciationweek and this fic. As a warning, this chapter is NSFW ;)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

It’s over a week of being in Glasgow before Nesta wakes up to sunlight streaming through the windows, golden streaks dancing across the floors and the blankets on the bed. The bright, early morning light paints the gardens and the blue skies above in soft hues, the faintest hint of fog still yet to be chased away.

The gloomy gray clouds and rain had stuck around longer than Nesta would have liked, clinging to the skies with a stubbornness that she swore rivaled her own. It had certainly matched the gloominess in the manor at least.

If she and Cassian weren’t screaming at one another, it was tense silence scraping its nails down their skin, burrowing into the expanse between them and stretching it wider still. Most days, it left Nesta feeling untethered, lost in those roaring waves that separate them. It seemed the only thing missing was claps of thunder, but even the weather seemed hesitant to mirror their sharp words.

With more energy than she’s had in days, Nesta throws the blankets off her legs and clambers out of bed. She steps on light feet closer to the window, eying the way the blades of grass twist and dance in the summer breeze. When she finally pulls herself away from the window, she calls for a lady’s maid to bring her a fresh, warm pitcher of water, setting about her morning routine of washing and pulling on a fresh dress.

When she walks downstairs and into the breakfast room, Nesta is surprised not to see Cassian there. Instead, the head of the table is decidedly empty, the member of staff clearing away the dishes the only sign he was ever there. Despite her best attempts to squash the feeling down, disappointment still churns in her gut, still twists and squeezes around her heart.

“I’ll be taking my morning tea in the library, thank you,” Nesta declares before turning on her heel and marching right back upstairs.

Unfortunately, the library doesn’t offer the sanctuary that Nesta is hoping for once she’s inside. Despite being in the large armchair that’s become her favorite, become her chair, Nesta still has to take a deep stuttering breath, still finds herself pressing her hand against her chest to soothe the sting there.

If she closes her eyes, she swears she can feel the slide of gentle fingers down her temple, down her cheek. Swears she can hear the gentle whisper of her name, a caress in that deep timbre. Swears she can feel strong arms slipping beneath her knees, her shoulders, can feel the warm chest she was cradled against as she was carried to bed.

She opens her eyes and spies her book from last night sitting on the tea table, a ribbon caringly placed between the pages so she wouldn’t lose her place. The sight has warmth spreading through her at the same time that ache that’s taken up home between her ribs grows and twinges.

The sound of the library door opening makes Nesta almost jump out of her skin in surprise, her traitorous heart filling with hope for just a moment. She snaps her attention toward it just as Mrs Reynolds steps inside, a tray with tea and toast poised in her hands.

“My lady,” Mrs Reynolds offers, dipping into a small curtsy before setting the tray on the tea table. When she straightens again, she reaches into the pockets of her skirts. “This arrived for you this morning.”

Nesta takes the letter that Mrs Reynolds holds out to her, surprised to see the Archeron family seal pressed into the wax. She turns the paper over in her hand, her breath catching when she sees Elain’s familiar, looping scrawl. She wastes no time breaking the seal and unfolding the paper, barely even noticing the housekeeper seeing herself out.

She devours Elain’s words, all of the updates her sister has provided. Apparently, in the time since Nesta’s marriage and departure to Glasgow, Elain has gotten engaged. Nesta always knew that Elain had a thing for Duke Helion’s only son. It was one of the things she was worried about after Cassian had so thoroughly ruined the Archeron name, that Lucien wouldn’t sully his own family’s name, that he’d stop his courting, but it seems the Duke’s son didn’t care and asked for Elain’s hand anyways.

Nesta can’t help but smile as she continues to read, at how Lucien simply laughs any time someone dares bring up that they think he’s making a mistake, when they try to warn him off. Honestly, if anyone should be reconsidering, it’s me because he can truly be such a rake sometimes. But I love him anyways. The last line has Nesta chuckling softly, pressing a hand against her mouth.

She flips to the next page of Elain’s letter, learning about how Cassian’s friend from school, Rhysand, of all people has started calling on Feyre more often, clearly intent on courting her. But with each new sentence that Nesta reads, the looping letters of Elain’s scrawl start to blur more and more, tears slipping free past Nesta’s eyes and splashing down onto the page until she has to set the letter down lest she completely ruin the ink.

She presses her knees against her chest, against the pressure building there, against the way her heart seems to writhe and crack between her ribs, and lets out a stuttering breath. Her mind feels like a jumble of emotions, threads tangling tighter despite her best attempts to unravel the mess.

She can’t stop thinking about when her mother told her about Tomas’s proposal, how when Nesta tried to tell her no, her mother reminded her that Tomas’s title would save them. Save their family. Save her sisters. Nesta could save her sisters. She can’t stop thinking about when her mother found Cassian’s letters that night, the way her mother laughed in her face and told her that love was for fairytales, not ladies, before tossing them into the fire. She can’t stop thinking about when they got back home after the failed wedding with Tomas, when her mother had spat and shouted at her. Told her she was a failure, that she’d failed her sisters, that Elain and Feyre would end up on the streets now, no better than common whores. She can’t stop thinking about the way Elain had cried that night.

And now both her sisters are perfectly well. Elain is engaged to the son of a Duke, and if Rhysand has his way, soon, Feyre will be engaged to a Duke. It fills her with such immense relief, knowing that her sisters will be okay, that despite everything that’s happened, they aren’t ruined. That she hasn’t ruined them, hasn’t been the cause of her sisters’ misery.

But there’s no denying the anger that simmers low in her gut too. If their mother had her way, Nesta would be married to Tomas right now. She would be crumbling under the hands of a cruel man, and it would have all been for nothing because what is a Viscount compared to a Duke? She would have given up happiness and love, a fairytale as her mother said, for what?

Although, perhaps, she’s already given up happiness and love anyways.

Because beneath the relief, beneath the anger, it’s regret that sinks its claws in and twists. She’d been so frightened for Elain and Feyre’s fate, so furious at the way that Cassian hadn’t even cared about the repercussions of his decision, that she’d pushed him away. She’d ignored him and snapped at him and threw cruel words at him and burned and burned and burned. She burned herself from the inside out with that fiery rage. She burned the bridge between her and him. She burned it all until here she stands, in the ashes, cold and alone with a letter from Elain and nothing else.

With a determined huff, Nesta scrubs her hands down her cheeks and straightens her spine. She swipes her forgotten book off the tea table, tucking Elain’s letter neatly inside the cover, and strides out of the library. Her heartbeat starts to thunder in her chest as she makes her way downstairs, but when she reaches the ground level, the manor is quiet. Too quiet. Her eyes flicker toward the door that leads to Cassian’s study, and it’s a sinking realization that he must be at the factories again today.

She swallows hard around her hurt and annoyance, letting out a quiet scoff that seems to echo through the quiet hall. Just her luck. Perhaps, this is the Mother’s way of punishing her. Determined to at least take advantage of the nice weather, Nesta turns on her heel and heads for the bowels of the manor instead. She glances around when she reaches the kitchen, her mouth twisting as she considers her options.

“My lady?” Nesta whips around to find Michael, the cook, watching her curiously, his hands buried up to the elbow in a large bowl of dough. “Can I help you find something?”

“I was planning to take advantage of the sunny weather,” Nesta explains. “And I’ll admit I was hoping to take a treat with me to enjoy while I read.”

Michael offers her a friendly smile and a nod. “Of course. I will have someone bring something out to you.”

“How will they know where to find me in the gardens?”

“Will you not be under the willow tree?”

Nesta’s heart skips a beat, the breath stolen straight from her lungs. “There’s a willow tree on the grounds?”

“Aye. Cassian was still a young lad when he had it planted. He said it was for someone special.”

Nesta doesn’t even know what to say to that, words and emotions clogged in the back of her throat. Somehow, she’s able to nod her head in thanks. She heads out of the kitchen and out of the manor house, winding her way through the gardens until she finds where the willow tree stands, leaves and branches gently swaying in the summer breeze.

Her steps are slow as she walks closer, hand reaching out to slide along the bark. For someone special. Nesta can’t help but smile as she thinks back to the willow tree near the stream by her family home. It was her favorite place to sneak off to. A place where her mother couldn’t bother her with more lessons, a place where she could read, a place where she could relax and be herself without any expectations or worries weighing her down.

Cassian would always find her there.

Sometimes they would tease each other back and forth. Sometimes they would talk. Sometimes he would just sit there beside her while she read her book. It was there that Cassian found her after one of her grandmama’s particularly harsh lessons before the older woman passed, gentle fingers helping to wrap her hand. It was there that he told Nesta about the letter he received from his father, about the news of his mother, Nesta sitting with her head on his shoulder to comfort him.

Nesta swallows hard and shakes her head of the memories. She settles in the grass beneath the tree, tucking her knees up to her chest and balancing her book there. As she opens up to her last page, she lets the memories, the emotions of the day, the world, fade away. The only thing there is is the sun high in the sky, the rays of light breaking through between the leaves and branches to create a kaleidoscope of gold. All there is is the breeze that tickles across her cheeks and ruffles the stray strands of her hair. All there is is the characters and the story splashed in ink across the pages of her book.

“Hello, Nes.”

Nesta’s head snaps up from the chapter she was engrossed in at the sound of that voice. She finds Cassian standing in front of her, a small, almost nervous smile tugging up the left side of his lips. There’s a basket clutched in one of his hands, and he uses the other to push his fingers up and through his hair.

“I should have known I’d find you here,” Cassian continues, stepping forward beneath the canopy of the willow tree. He settles in the grass beside her and places the basket down near their legs, removing the cloth that’s been draped over the top and revealing a chocolate tart. “I was given very strict instructions from Michael to bring this to you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Nesta tells him, closing her book and setting it aside.

“I wanted to.”

Cassian pulls out a small plate from the side of the basket, setting it neatly in the space between them. He grabs the knife tucked into the basket next, cutting a piece of the chocolate tart and placing it on the plate. Nesta’s eyebrows dip in confusion as she eyes the slice, the larger than normal serving size of it.

“Are we sharing?”

Cassian chuckles quietly, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging up his lips. “We both know that if I ever try to steal a bite from your chocolate treat, you’d chop my hand off. Just for you, sweetheart.”

“It’s quite a large piece.”

“Chocolate is your favorite.”

He says the words so matter-of-factly, so simply, and Nesta can feel all those emotions from before bubbling back inside her again. All that relief and anger and regret, it twists in her stomach and squeezes through her chest. She still remembers all those times her mother would scold and remind her of the expectations of a good wife. Still remembers seeing Lady Mandray in town, the almost gaunt look to her face, the implication, the promise of the future clear. Still remembers when the Mandrays came over for dinner after the engagement was announced, the shameless comments her mother and Lady Mandray had made right then and there in front of her.

Nesta doesn’t even realize she’s started to cry again until Cassian’s hand reaches up, his touch so gentle, so warm as his palm cradles her cheek. His thumb slides across her skin, catching the tear that slipped free.

“Nes…” Cassian whispers, his voice almost pained. “I’m sorry. You came out here to be alone, for some peace and quiet, and I’m ruining it.”

Cassian pulls his hand back, and Nesta feels the loss like a crack through her chest, the cold needling at that spot on her cheek in the absence of his warmth. Cassian starts to clamber to her feet, and desperation claws at the back of her throat, words tangling into a lump, until all she can do is reach for his wrist, fingers curling into the sleeve of his shirt.

“Please don’t,” Nesta chokes out, not releasing her grip until Cassian settles back into his spot.

Cassian sighs softly, his hazel eyes swimming with sadness, with wariness, with shame, as he watches Nesta. “I’m still sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. For all of it. I’d take it all back if I could.”

Those words have Nesta’s stomach sinking as she whispers, “do you regret it then?”

“No… I don’t know… I just…” Cassian lets out another soft breath, reaching up and dragging his thumb along her bottom lip. “I’d give anything to see you smile again. Just once. I told myself I was okay with you hating me forever as long as it meant you were safe, but I think it might be killing me.”

“I don’t actually hate you,” Nesta promises quietly. “I could never hate you.”

Nesta gently pulls Cassian’s hand away from her face, but she doesn’t let go of it, settling their joined hands instead in her lap. She traces the lines and calluses across his palm with the tip of her finger, the touch grounding, keeping her steady, as she finds her courage, finds her words.

“My family lost everything right before the season started. There was a bad storm, and my father’s ships went down at sea, with everything on them. It left us with nothing. We barely had enough to pretend nothing was amiss and get through the season, and Tomas is a Viscount. He could save us. I could save Elain and Feyre so they didn’t end up on the streets. It’s all I could think about it. I was willing to do anything if it meant my sisters would be alright. And I didn’t know how to say all that in a letter, to explain it, so I simply never wrote back after your last one arrived, and I hoped you would simply move on, that you'd forget about me, but then you showed up anyways, and still all I could think about was Elain and Feyre and what it would mean for them, what would happen to them.”

“Nesta, I swear I—”

“But I received a letter from Elain this morning. The Duke, Helion, his son, Lucien, has proposed to her. It sounds as if he’s quite smitten and doesn’t care about anything that’s happened. And apparently, your friend, Rhysand, keeps calling on Feyre.”

Cassian’s free hand tilts Nesta’s chin up, forcing her gaze back on his face and his growing grin. “So, it’s all worked out then. No more worries for that pretty little head of yours.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I love how much you care for your sisters,” Cassian explains, shifting his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Because you said that you don’t hate me.”

“It's you that should hate me. I said some awful things to you.”

“You think I care about that? It’s all part of our witty repartee.”

Nesta huffs fondly but still annoyed. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Cassian assures her. He moves the plate between them out of the way, his hands curling around Nesta’s ankles and tugging her closer until her legs are draped over his lap. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years. And I’m going to keep loving you for years to come no matter what you throw at me. I told you, I can take it.”

Nesta smiles softly, reaching her own hand up to trace the scar that runs through Cassian’s eyebrow, fingers sliding along his cheek and the stubble of hair there before settling her palm along his jaw. “I love you too.”

“Really?” Cassian asks teasingly, his smile especially wide and hazel eyes glinting.

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and kiss me, you idiot.”

“That’s the Nesta I know.”

One of Cassian’s arms wraps securely around Nesta’s waist, his other hand cradling her face. Nesta’s breath hitches in her lungs, and for a moment, she swears she’s not breathing, her heart skipping a beat before it starts to thunder. It’s as if the whole thing happens in slow motion, Cassian leaning in close until his nose bumps hers, until their breaths mingle in the small space between them. The first brush of his lips against hers is sweet, almost tentative, but then he firmly slots their mouths together.

Nesta had often thought about what it might be like to kiss Cassian, but her imaginings were an ill comparison to the real thing. With every slide of their lips together, warmth floods through her chest, sparks ricocheting through her nerve endings all the way down to her toes. Cassian’s arms are a steady, welcomed weight where they’re wrapped around her, and when Nesta buries a hand in the dark curls of his hair, he groans into her mouth, hauling her closer still until she’s fully in his lap.

Nesta settles her knees on either side of his hips, pressing her chest against his and meeting him stroke for stroke. Cassian pulls back enough to press searing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, Nesta releasing a gasping moan when his teeth scrape along her pulse point.

“Cassian,” Nesta pleads, tugging at his hair again.

Cassian groans against her skin, his whole body shuddering at the sound of his name falling past her lips. “You're going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

“Good.”

Nesta uses her grip on his hair to pull him into another kiss, but Cassian laughs against her, nipping at her bottom lip in retaliation.

“Haughty witch.”

Nesta can't help but laugh at the return of the teasing nickname. For a moment, Cassian's eyes widen at the sound, the gold of them so bright, until a soft smile settles easily across his face. Nesta matches that smile with one of her own, happiness light and bursting between her ribs.

“Gods, you're so beautiful,” Cassian says quietly, his voice awed, reverent. “I must be the luckiest man in the whole world.”

Heat creeps up Nesta's neck and she can feel it threatening to spill across her cheeks. Rather than answer, she crashes her mouth back against his. Cassian's grip tightens around her, his tongue slipping past her lips as the kiss deepens. Nesta starts to rock her hips, and she can feel his desire for her nestled against her. It only spurs her on more, chasing the heat building within herself, the friction. One of his arms shift to under Nesta's ass and then Cassian is clambering up to his feet with Nesta hoisted up against him, Nesta letting out a squeal of surprise.

“Cassian, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“Sorry, Nes,” Cassian tells her, moving back toward the manor. “But the things I want to do to you are not proper for the gardens.”

“That doesn't mean you have to carry me. I can walk just fine.”

Cassian makes a big show of sighing dramatically, but he sets Nesta back down. Once her feet touch the grass, he grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together and rushing toward the manor. A few of the staff eye them curiously when they all but burst through the doors, but Cassian doesn't seem to notice or care, leading them up the stairs and to their bedroom.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Cassian is back on Nesta, hands cradling her face and kissing her with a fever that has Nesta's head spinning. Just their mouths pressed together has her melting against him, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt to hold herself upright. His own fingers slide down from her cheek, along her neck, her collarbones, and a shiver rakes its way up Nesta’s spine in response, goosebumps pebbling across her skin.

Cassian pulls back enough that he can press his forehead to Nesta’s, those fingers tracing along the neckline of her dress and his voice quiet and breathless. “May I?”

Nesta nods her head, stepping back enough that she can turn around. Cassian’s hands make quick work of the stays of her dress, and when the laces are loose enough, Nesta tugs the sleeves down her arms and lets the dress go so it pools at her feet. She goes to turn back around, but the feel of Cassian’s hands in her hair gives her pause. Slowly, he tugs the pins free until her hair falls in soft waves down her back and around her shoulders.

“Beautiful,” Cassian whispers, and Nesta half wonders if he’s speaking to her or to himself.

He gently pulls aside the neckline of her shift, dipping his head down to press a kiss to her exposed shoulder, to the constellation of freckles splashed across her skin there. The touch is so gentle, the gesture so tender, and Nesta’s heart skips a beat even as her blood starts to simmer and warm. She spins back around and presses up onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him properly again. Cassian walks them back until the backs of Nesta’s knees hit the bed, and she breaks away from the kiss to slide up onto the mattress.

Cassian takes a moment to tug his shirt free from his pants, reaching a hand back to fist in the fabric and pull it off. Nesta’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him, her eyes tracing down the expanse of golden brown skin on display. The bulge of his arms. The ridges of his abs. The deep v-lines. The tented proof of his arousal.

“See something you like, Nes?”

Nesta’s eyes snap back up to his face, taking in his wide, cocksure smirk, and rolls her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to…”

Nesta’s words trail off as Cassian suddenly pulls his pants down and kicks them aside, and she has to swallow hard. She’s never seen a naked man before, and Cassian is certainly something else. His thighs are thick, large cock standing hard and heavy between them, the tip already glistening in the low burning candle light.

“You were saying?” Cassian teases, kneeling up onto the bed.

“Always so full of yourself,” Nesta fires back, but the breathless quality to her voice betrays her.

Cassian's hands find home at her shins, sliding up over her knees and pushing the hem of her shift with them. When he looks back up at Nesta, there's a clear question swimming in his gaze, and Nesta answers it, sitting up enough that she can tug her shift up and off. The movement brings their faces close together again, and for a moment, Nesta can do nothing but stare, feels captured in his gaze. The golds and greens of his hazel eyes have melded together around his blown out pupils, hair a tousled mess from her fingers where it falls around his face. And the slow smile that tugs its way across his face, it has her heart skipping a beat.

She wastes no time pulling him back into her, their mouths moving together in what is quickly becoming a practiced dance between them. Nesta leans back down against the pillows, dragging Cassian with her until he's cradled comfortably in the space between her thighs, her legs hooked around his hips and her hands buried in his hair.

One of Cassian's hands slides up to her breast, and Nesta moans into Cassian's mouth as his fingers knead at her flesh. He breaks the kiss to move his mouth's attention to her other breast, tongue swirling around her nipple until she’s practically arching up into him.

Nesta's entire body feels like it's blazing. The graze of Cassian's stubble against her skin, the way he's moving his mouth, she can do nothing but toss her head back and moan, nothing but give in to the electricity sparking through her veins. She gets a small reprieve when Cassian pulls back with a soft pop, but he merely switches to lave attention to her other breast.

“Cassian,” Nesta pleads, nails scraping against his scalp.

She's not even sure what she's begging for, but she knows that she needs more. Cassian, at least, seems to understand her unspoken request. He presses kisses down her sternum, down her stomach, sliding down her body and the bed. His hands slide tantalizingly slow up her legs, goosebumps pebbling across her skin in their wake.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

Nesta takes a moment, a breath, to try and calm her racing heart. “Yes.”

It's the truth. In the privacy of her bed chambers, particularly late at night, she would sometimes slip her fingers beneath the blankets, between her thighs. Especially when she got her hands on some of Sellyn Drake's more salacious novels. Although, sometimes, she found it difficult to imagine the heroes of those stories. If the hero was a little too blonde. If the hero had blue eyes.

“And who did you imagine?” Cassian dares to ask, his hands sliding up her thighs, so close to where Nesta really wants him.

“If you're expecting me to fuel your ego, you'll be waiting a long time. It certainly wasn't you.”

Cassian's smirk is beautiful, but Nesta bites her tongue around that thought. “Have I ever told you that you're a terrible liar?”

“And you're a terrible tease.”

Cassian chuckles, but his fingers tighten their grip, spreading her thighs wider until she's on full display for him. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re already dripping for me.”

Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, her hips trying to buck up, but Cassian’s hold on her is firm. He dips his head down, hot breath fanning across her, and Nesta is about to make another remark to urge him on, but any words die in the back of her throat when Cassian presses the flat of his tongue against her. He groans, the vibrations skittering all the way down to her toes, and then he absolutely devours her.

His tongue alternates between swirling around her clit and licking long thick stripes, and Nesta can do nothing but hold on. She rocks her hips against his face, pressing closer still, and uses the hand in his hair to keep him where he is, but from the way he moans and groans against her, she has a strong suspicion that Cassian is right where he wants to be already.

He sucks her clit between his lips, and Nesta practically bows off the mattress, a choked off moan of Cassian’s name tumbling past her lips. He shifts one of his arms so it's draped across her hips, keeping her still. His other hand slides up to join his mouth, and he sinks a finger into her. It's certainly thicker than Nesta's own fingers ever were, but the stretch feels too good, and when he presses in a second finger beside the first, when he curls those fingers, Nesta is sure she's not going to last much longer. Already, she can feel that familiar heat coiling tighter and tighter in her gut, can feel herself climbing closer and closer to that blissful precipice.

He pulls his mouth away to look up at her, fingers continuing to pump in a steady rhythm, and the sight shouldn't be as erotic as it is. His eyes are almost completely swallowed up by his pupils, the hazel color that remains a molten gold. His lips are swollen and pink, a combination of saliva and her arousal smeared around his mouth and through his stubble. The smirk he settles her with is downright devilish, eyes pinned wholly on her as he pointedly licks his lips.

“My sweet wife is better than any chocolate tart or dessert,” Cassian tells her, his voice a deep rasp, before he leans down and licks another thick stripe from where his fingers are buried to her clit, almost as if proving his point.

“Fuck,” Nesta whispers, unable to form any other coherent words. Unable to form any other coherent thoughts. The sensations are somehow too much and not enough. The feel of him. The sight of him. His words.

“You're already so tight around my fingers,” Cassian continues, squeezing in a third finger, eyes tracking the way Nesta arches and keens. “Can feel you squeezing and fluttering around me. Are you close, Nes?”

“Yes,” Nesta moans, her hand reaching down to curl around Cassian's wrist, nails digging into his skin. “Don't stop. Gods, please, don't stop.”

“You sound so pretty when you beg, But I'll bet you look even prettier when you come.” Cassian curls his fingers again, leaning down to drag his tongue over her clit. “Come on, sweetheart. Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

The praise finally breaks the last tether. Nesta practically shouts Cassian's name as release tears through her. He works her through it, fingers continuing to move until she melts boneless back into the mattress. He presses sweet and soothing kisses along the inside of her thigh, tracing a path up over her hip bone.

He spends extra attention at her breasts when he reaches them again, languidly swirling his tongue and suckling at the flesh there. It pulls a whine deep from Nesta's chest, her blood already beginning to heat again under his ministrations. When he's finally had his fill, he continues up over her collarbones and to her neck, teeth and lips nipping and sucking at the skin until Nesta is sure she'll have a mark tomorrow.

By the time his mouth finally finds hers, Nesta is practically putty in his hands. She moans at the way she can taste herself on his lips, pressing her tongue against his greedily.When Cassian finally breaks the kiss, both their chests are heaving again, and Cassian rests his forehead against hers, eyes closing as though he needs a moment to gather himself.

“We can stop,” Cassian promises quietly. “We don't have to do anything more. We have time.”

“But I want to,” Nesta assures him, lifting her legs to lock around his hips. “I want you.”

“I'll go slow.”

Nesta reaches her hand between them, palm cradling his cheek. “I trust you.”

Cassian kisses her again, but it's softer, sweeter, every emotion between them seared into that press of lips. It feels right in a way that's as terrifying as it is thrilling. In that moment, Nesta swears a golden thread winds around them, tying her heart as surely to Cassian's as his is tied to hers. In that moment, she swears some part deep within her soul lets out a relieved breath, whispers home. In that moment, she swears she sees those same feelings reflected in Cassian's own eyes.

Cassian shifts his hips and reaches his hand down between them, lining himself up. As promised, he sinks into her slowly, Nesta gasping at the stretch, the fullness. Her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back as she tries to get used to the feeling.

“Relax, Nes,” Cassian murmurs, pressing kisses along her neck and kneading at her breast until he draws a moan out of her. “That's it. Fuck, you take me so well, sweetheart.”

Inch by inch, Cassian sinks into her, until their hips are pressed flushed together, until Nesta feels so incredibly full. She clenches down around him, almost testing, and Cassian groans, his head dropping down to her collarbones.

“So big,” Nesta whispers, clenching down around him again.

Cassian chuckles, and Nesta can feel the rumble of it everywhere they're pressed together. “What happened to not wanting to fuel my ego?”

“You’re the worst.”

“You love me, remember?”

“I’d love you more if you’d move,” Nesta bites out, trying to buck her hips up against him.

Cassian lifts his head enough that his lips brush against hers when he speaks again, “So demanding today.”

“Cassian, please.”

“And still so pretty when you beg.”

Despite his teasing words, Cassian pulls his hips back just to press back forward again. The drag has Nesta’s toes curling, has her moaning as she moves her hips to meet Cassian’s every thrust. And yet it’s still not enough. She still needs more, ready to tumble headfirst and give into the fire blazing through her veins and begging to be released.

“Cassian,” Nesta begins, but when Cassian’s movements pause completely, his eyes clouding over with concern, Nesta reaches a hand to run soothingly through his hair. “I won’t break.”

“Fuck me, Nes…” Cassian pushes out between gritted teeth, his words trailing off into a groan.

He crashes his mouth back against hers, fingers digging into her thigh and hiking her leg higher against his waist, and then he starts to snap his hips against hers in earnest. Each press into her is hard and deep, and it’s exactly what Nesta needs, Cassian’s name falling past her lips like a prayer.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you. You feel so good, so perfect.”

Already, Nesta can feel herself racing closer to that edge, but at least Cassian seems to be teetering there with her, his movements beginning to stutter. He reaches a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with ease and moving his fingers in time with his building rhythm.

“Come on,” Cassian continues. “Be my good girl and come around my cock. Want to feel you squeezing me.”

Cassian continues to play her body like an instrument, sending her careening through another orgasm. Cassian works her through it, keeping his hips moving until he presses in deep and stills, warmth spreading through Nesta as he finds his own release.

They continue to lay there, tangled up together as they catch their breath, before Cassian carefully moves off of her. He pads over to the bathing chamber, returning with a damp cloth to clean them both up. Once that’s discarded, he pulls back the blankets and encourages Nesta to slip beneath, sliding into the bed beside her. His arms curl around her waist and tug her close, Nesta shifting until she can comfortably lay with her head pillowed on his chest.

Cuddled up this close together, Nesta can leech all of the warmth that always seems to radiate off Cassian. She can relish in the strength and comforting weight of his arms secure around her. She can hear the beat of his heart beneath her ear. It has Nesta sighing contently, and when Cassian turns his head enough that he can press a kiss to the top of her head, she doesn’t even bother biting back her smile.

“So, what happens now?” Nesta asks, tracing senseless patterns across Cassian’s chest with her fingertip.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess…” Nesta lets out a soft breath, tilting her head so she can meet Cassian’s gaze. “I just spend so much time worrying about Elain and Feyre, so much time being angry, that I almost don't know what to do now.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Cassian assures her, reaching a hand up to gently brush the hair away from Nesta’s face and tucking the strands behind her ear. “You can come to the factories with me. You can spend all day in the library until you've read every book in there.” His expression morphs into that cocksure smirk of his. “We can spend all day here in this bed.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly at him. “Spending days on end in bed sounds like a terrible business model.”

Cassian chuckles, the warm sound curling around Nesta’s limbs, but then his face turns serious again, that soft look Nesta knows is only for her flooding through his hazel eyes. “Whatever you want, Nes. I told you all I care about is you, and I meant it. As long as you're here with me, as long as you're happy. That's all that matters.”

Nesta’s smile grows even more at that, her heart fluttering with so much joy, so much love between her ribs. “Cassian MacLeod, the big sap. Who knew?”

“Only for you, Mrs MacLeod.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @girl-of-many-floods @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head

#nessian #CassianAppreciationWeek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #regency au #my fic

[onskepa]

Pamtseo Si > Lo'ak's route!

request: Can I get a Neteyam or Lo'ak x Human reader. Where he ends up spending an entire day at the lab with them. I just imagine them getting into a play fight and that messing us each other's hair and they end up doing different hairstyles on each other. 🥺Maybe you can also include a part where the reader shows Neteyam/Lo'ak her music playlist. Bruh- I just imagined Neteyam/Lo'ak hearing the lyrics of Kill bill and kinda staring at the reader wide eyed at the 'I just killed my ex part'. 😅

A month's of constant doing chores, intense training, doing whatever lo'ak has got to do just to have ONE day off. A day of freedom. A day in whatever he wants to do without having to be with his siblings or his parents nagging on him. NOPE! Once the sun rose up from the Pandora skies, he was quick to wake up first, collect a lot of fruits for his family to enjoy breakfast, freshen up, and dip out.

Making his way to the laboratory where many of the humans he comes to care about, live in. One human in particular is his lovely PamPam, well, she has a name but lo'ak enjoys teasing her by calling her PamPam. His cute yet loud girlfriend.

Lo'ak and Pampam started dating a little over 1 year, and so far, it is the peak of lo'ak life. He enjoys spending time with his human lover, every time he is with her, all the stress and worries just vanish. He can be his fun, goofy self when he is around her. It is always fun and never boring with his pampam.

Just the other day, Pampam said to come to the lab when he has a free day, cause she had something she wanted to show lo'ak. Feeling giddy, he speeds to the lab. So many things going on his mind, a flower she found? old recordings of some of the now dead science guys? some cool junk?

When lo'ak entered the lab, everyone greeted him, and he in return. Saying good morning as he passes by, he felt at ease and safe among the humans who were loyal to his people.

With big steps, he managed to reach pampam's room, which it was a decent size, full of trinkets and gifts lo'ak personally gave to his cute little lover. Speaking of, there she was laying on the floor playing with something small.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling in excitement, "lo'ak!" she shouts happily. Jumping from where she want, launched herself into lo'ak's arms, hugging tightly they both take a moment of silence to feel each other. "I have all day today just for you" lo'ak tells her, she gasps happily and brings him to sit on the floor with her on his lap.

"so what is it that you wanted to show me?" he asks. With an excited tone, pampam explains, "well norm was clearing out some of the back storage and found this!" show him a small rectangular black shiny...thing. It felt cold to the touch but something that can be easily broken. "It's a miracle there are no cracks this whole time" remarks pampam.

Lo'ak was exposed to limitless demon technology, heck, he can operate a computer all by himself, when he knows what he it doing. Knows how machines in the laboratory works, how touch screens and holograms work. And yet, demon technology still surprises him.

Curious he asks "what is it? how does it work?", pampam happily answers. "This is an old music player, can hold over a thousand songs! so many types of songs are in here! I don't know who it belonged to but this thing has a loooooooooot of music!".

Kind understanding, he leans in a bit more, "let me pick a song?" he asks, pampam nods and holds it out for him. He scrolls for a bit until one title catches his attention. Pressing it to play, the music blasts it out.

IN THE LAB!

Everyone was doing their thing until two high loud voices was heard in a hall. Everyone was wondering what the heck was going on, they got closer. Max and Norm taking the lead, they get closer to pampam's bedroom door to hear what the chaos is going on....only to hear Lo'ak and pampam singing the infamous song...

"Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!!!"

That will be all for this request! ngl I had fun with it! until next time!

#avatar #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #na'vi x human #avatar the way of water #lo'ak #lo'ak x fem!reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #rick astley #meme #omaticaya clan #lo'ak x human reader

[anna-the-undertaker]

Rebirth: Science Overview

Rebirth: Part 1 Art Ref Just some info about Black Vultures, what Humans would require in order to fly with wings, and MCs new anatomy. This is pretty long but I had fun with it and I hope you guys enjoy it too:

Black Vultures:

Overview - Black Vultures (Coragyps Atratus) are amongst the most abundant vultures of the new world, and out of all the members in the Cathartidae family, have the most varied diet. They are highly social birds that demonstrate fierce family loyalty. They will share food with their relatives and feed their young for months after fledging. Their lifespan is 10 years on average, and the longest-banded individual has lived up to 25-26 years.

Appearance - Their wings are broad but relatively short. The base of the primary feathers are white, producing a white patch on the underside of the wings edge, which is visible in flight. Their plumage is mainly a glossy black.

Habits and Lifestyle - They soar high when searching for food, holding their wings horizontally when gliding. They flap in short bursts which are followed by short periods of gliding. They are generally silent but can hiss and grunt or make barking noises when agitated or while feeding, they also do this when fighting over food. Black Vultures are gregarious and roost in large groups (these groups are referred to as a Kettle/Committee/Wake). They generally forage in groups late in the day; they locate food by sight or following other Vultures to carcasses as their sense of smell is not as strong as their slightly larger Turkey Vulture brethren. They are aggressive when feeding, and may even chase away Turkey Vultures. When startled, they regurgitate just-eaten food so that they can take flight. They conserve energy at night by lowering their body temperature. When morning comes they warm up by spreading their wings in the sun. As such they can often found with their wings spread. This stance has several functions: Warming the body, drying the wings, and baking off bacteria.

Diet and Nutrition - Black Vultures are carnivores and mainly scavengers, eating the carcasses of large animals, and sometimes small dead mammals. They also kill baby herons in nesting colonies and eat domestic ducks, newborn calves, small birds and mammals, eggs, opossums, skunks, ripe or rotten vegetables or fruit, and young turtles.

Mating Habits - Black Vultures are monogamous and pairs mate for life. They engage in aerial courtship displays with circling flight, chasing, and then spiraling down. A pair may also display together on a perch: they spread their wings and jump into the air while making yapping noises. They don't build nests but use a natural cavity such as a cave, rock crevice, tree, or hollow log. 2 eggs are laid and are incubated by both parents for 38 to 45 days, each taking turns everyday. Both parents feed the chicks by regurgitating liquified food until they are 2 weeks old, they then give them solid food. They forage as a family group until the next breeding season.

Stats - Top speed: 55KMH/34MPH, Weight: 1.6-2.7KG/3.5-5.9LBS, Length: 56-74cm/22-29.1 inches, Wingspan: 1.3-1.7M/4.3-5.6FT

Humans and the ability to fly:

We have all imagined it. Wished we could do it. But unfortunately, without countless amounts of genetic alteration, it's impossible for a human being to be able to fly unaided, wings or otherwise.

As humans we have conquered the skies with the use of airplanes, but our avian neighbors still have us beat.

A bird's skeleton has a tougher job than a mammal's. It needs to be light enough for flight, but also strong enough to take the strain of flying. To tackle these problems, birds' skeletons have some unique adaptations.

Bird skeletons are surprisingly light for their size due to having hollow bones. They also have lightweight beaks instead of heavy teeth and jawbones. Some other bones are very small, or have disappeared altogether, for example in the tail.

A bird’s main limb bones are hollow, with special struts inside to strengthen them. This makes them stronger than a mammal’s without being heavier. Other bones are more rigid than in a mammal’s skeleton. Sideways bones sticking out from the ribs lock them tightly together, and the two collarbones are joined into a single brace – which we call the ‘wishbone’. A rigid skeleton can cope better with the stress of flying.

If you look at the carcass of a roast chicken, you can easily see the huge breastbone, which sticks out like the keel of a boat. This bone is unique to birds. It holds the huge muscles that they need for flying. Most flightless birds such as ostriches and emus have lost this breastbone as they no longer need it.

You see, the reason we humans would be unable to fly is simply our weight and lack of strength.

By taking into account a human's average height and weight, we would need a wingspan between 6 to 7 meters (19.7 to 23 feet). When facturing in the average strength of a human, wings of that size would be too heavy to function.

In order to fly, our muscles would need to generate enough power to lift our bodies off the ground for an extended about of time which is impossible without scaling them up, which is a dead end when it comes to human flight. This is because of the strength-to-weight ratio of our muscles. Put simply, as our muscles grow, their weight increases faster than their strength.

Humans are woefully malproportioned for flight. Their centre of gravity is about where their naval is and their shoulders, through which flight loads must be transmitted if their arms are replaced by wings, are about 40 or 50 cm too high. They could however fly upright but then they would be extremely slow because of air resistance. This could be remedied by having much shorter and/or much lighter skinnier legs. In that case they would be hopelessly slow and clumsy on the ground.

A better solution would be to have an altogether new (extra) set of limbs (wings) like your archetypal angel, but unlike angel wings they would have to be supported just above the hips. This would entail a fundamental change of body plan, including mutation of the hox genes and others I assume. It may not be a feasible mutation.

You’d have to lighten up everything and increase lung capacity enormously to begin to approach the power to weight ratio of flying creatures like birds and bats.

So in short we would need:

new bone structure/proportions

more strength

larger lung capacity

MCs New Anatomy:

We all know MC isn't a normal human (or rather no longer human) and due to the supernatural happenings in Obey Me this isn't going to be all the way anatomically correct, but I still tried to keep it as realistic as possible and when it comes to MCs new body I had to do a bit brainstorming and theorizing to come up with how it would function. So in correlation with what's cannon and headcannon (the brothers having a third form which are their true forms) for Obey Me, MC has 3 forms: Human, Partial, and full transformation. The human form is exactly as it sounds: what they looked like as a human. The partial transformation is similar to the brothers in terms of their demon forms: wings/tail and horns. The full transformation is everything as seen in the reference drawing I did: Horns, wings, arms/hands, legs/feet, eyes/teeth. Feel free to imagine any extra details that speak to you in regards to their "true" form as I want to encourage you to insert your OC and have fun with it. I'd love to hear about the ideas you all come up with so please leave them in the comments. (The full transformation was heavily inspired by HunniLibra's work on AO3 called True Forms. I highly recommend reading it. It's really good.) And now, without further adieu, we are getting into the detailed stuff.

Wings -

The wings of course are the main focus of their new form and the most noticeable. They have 3 sets, 6 wings in total:

Top (4m/13ft): The smallest set and they act similar to a vertical stabilizer on aircrafts; prevents MC from being moved side to side as they glide and helps with wind resistance. In terms of protection, they are quite tough and make a good shield for their head.

Middle (7m/23ft): The largest and strongest, these are MCs main set. They are the driving force behind their ability to fly. They generate lift and keep them elevated as this set works alongside the others, flapping in short bursts, followed by a short period of gliding, and then repeating. These are also MCs greatest protection, acting as a shield for their body should they need it.

Bottom (5m/16ft): This set is slightly shorter than the main wings, but serve a very important purpose. Exactly like tail flight feathers, they are there for stability and control. They are used as a rudder, helping to steer and balance Mc and allow them to twist and turn in flight and act as a brake for landing. They also help support MCs body weight and steady their center of gravity, supporting the main set by preventing MC from bobbing up and down. For protection, they cover the base of MCs spine, a very sensitive part of the back that the main set can't reach when being used as a shield.

(For reference, I headcannon that Lucifer's wings are about 10m/33ft)

Strength: Even with hollow bones, these wings would still, realistically, be well over 200lbs/90kgs so in order to lift that weight and MCs body weight they would have to be extremely strong. Strong enough, in fact, to send several, large, grown men flying when launching into flight. They are also tough as tungsten. With the bones supported by internal struts and becoming reinforced due to its evolution, it is virtually impossible for a normal human, lesser demon, or lesser angel to harm them. A wing thrust from these acts as a countermeasure to create distance between MC and an opponent by knocking them back.

Speed: Speed varies depending on what exactly MC is doing while in flight. Normal gliding speed would be about 65mph/105km/h, but can reach a top gliding speed of 70mph/ll2km/h. The only way reach their max speed is during a nose dive, with their wings closed and held tight to their body, reaching speeds up to 122mph/195km/h or more.

Length: When closed their wings drag across the ground due to their size so extra care is required in maintaining them and keeping the feathers from being damaged. It's recommended to only walk around this way when at home.

Horns -

The horns are another noticeable feature on MCs new form, but not nearly as eye catching as their wings. Horns on most animals serve a purpose: head protection and as a weapon. I imagine it is the same with demons as well. Shape, size, and durability determine just how effective they are:

As far as protection goes, they don't provide much excluding the crown of MCs skull. They are, however, great for headbutting or ramming into someone.

Durability: While at first glance they appear to be made of crystal, they are really made of extremely smooth bone. The same reinforced bone as their skull. It is possible to damage/break them but only under extreme force. Possibly the same amount of force of a transfer truck hitting them at full speed.

Size: A little above average when compared to demons. They hover about 2 inches above MCs scalp and have decent amount of girth, thickest at the base with the thinnest part being the tips. The tips are really sharp.

Arms and Hands -

The arms and hands are essential tools for any humanoid creature. Now for MC, their arms and hands look just a like a humans unless they do a full transformation. And when they do, they develop almost charcoal black skin from their hands where it is the darkest to their elbow where it is the lightest. This skin is rougher and stronger than their normal skin. It is similar to the skin of Black Vultures. Their fingers appear to be a bit longer and they have extremely sharp nails that change length at will.

Legs and Feet -

The same as the arms and hands, legs and feet are essential tools. They too look human until MC transforms, developing the same dark skin. The difference is that the feet change shape, transforming in to those of a large raptor with talons that can pierce through bone and rip away flesh with ease.

Eyes and Teeth -

Like the arms and legs, their eyes and mouth are usually humanoid unless they transform. When they do, the eyes change from their original color to a pale blue with large pupils and the sclera turns black. They have keen eyesight in this form and can see an enemy or prey from about 4 miles away. Like Black Vultures, MCs new form is carnivorous so their body has developed sharp teeth to help tear through flesh. (For those who don't eat meat for any reason, don't worry, Black vultures also eat fruits and vegetables, rotten or ripe, as mentioned in the first section.)

Internal Changes -

Diet: As mentioned above, MCs new form is carnivorous, however, their body has developed to be able to consume human, demonic, and angelic food without consequence.

Bones: The larger bones in MCs body have become hollow with internal struts like their wings, but not all. Smaller bones like those in the hands and feet haven't changed much. Their rib cage has lengthened to support a larger lung capacity.

Organs: Speaking of lungs, they, along with MCs heart have become larger to help with the strain of flying. Their stomach, much like Beels, can digest just about anything food related. Maybe even Solomons cooking if they are brave enough to try, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's better to be cautious than fuck around and find out with that one.

Habitual Changes -

Much like Black Vultures, MC is now more aggressive when it comes to food. Only sharing with those closest to them. Anyone else will be hissed at and it may turn physical.

They can often be found in their room with their wings spread under the sun lamp to warm them.

MC will mate with a single partner for life (For those who aren't into monogamy feel free to ignore this. This is solely in correlation with Black Vulture mating habits. This is not truly important for this.)

Mating habits also include the courtship rituals for Black Vultures.

MC now has a breeding season (once again if you don't care for this, just ignore it. This is not essential info.)

Other Changes -

MCs body is now better equipped to withstand and use stronger magics. Angelic Healing (from their angelic heritage), demonic transmutation, hypnosis, charms, curses, etc. They can even listen to Lucifer's cursed records now. Their magic is also much stronger than before along with their pacts.

In terms of magical and physical strength, MC is now on par with most demons and angels and would annihilate any humans that attacked them, excluding Solomon. Going up against the brothers, Simeon, or Solomon would prove to be a challenge, while going against Diavolo or Barbatos would be impossible.

Their magic plays a role in their body functioning since MC is now a supernatural being.

As such unlike Black Vultures who only live a short time, MC shares their lifespan with the brothers because of their pacts. So long as they live, MC will as well.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #Obey Me! Rebirth

[petitmonde]

Meet ugly

A set of dialogue prompts and scenarios for meet ugly, because who doesn't need chaos in their lives? Send in a prompt and/or scenario + a ship. Feel free to share and use.

I'd like to thank @missjanjie and @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney for their help.

Dialogue prompts

1. "Is that my car?"

2. "Oh, so that was you?"

3. "Please never contact me again"

4. "You shouldn't be in here"

5. "Who the hell are you?"

6. "So listen, I met the worst bitch ever on my way to work"

7. "Can you shut up? At least for ten minutes"

8. "You could say sorry"

9. "Just don't puke on my carpet"

10. "I don't even know you"

11. "I didn't ask for your life story"

12. "I didn't sign up for this"

13. "Okay, rule number one, don't talk to me"

14. "That fucking hurt"

15. "Did your parents hate you when they named you that?"

16. "That is the ugliest dress I've ever seen"

17. "I think I just spilled coffee all over our new boss"

18. "I'm pretty sure my date is hitting on your date"

19. "Wait, this isn't my apartment?"

20. "If you kick my seat one more time, I'm cutting off your legs."

21. "Get out"

22. "Well here's the thing, I don't care"

23. "I'm going to call the cops"

24. "It's loaded"

25. "Shit, I thought you weren't home"

26. "It's been six months and you still don't know their name?"

27. "I think you got the wrong number"

28. "Put your clothes back on"

29. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't answer that, I already know"

30. "When I see that bitch again"

31. "I don't have a death wish"

32. "I am not getting in that car with you"

33. "Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?"

34. "Okay, for the last fucking time"

35. "Didn't you hear me?"

36. "Get a grip, get a life and get over it"

37. "I am not going to entertain drama, chaos, confusion and madness"

38. "I'm not bothered, not at all"

39. "I knew she was a clown from the jump"

40. "I'm not finished talking to you"

41. "I pity you for the face that you have"

42. "Here, let me buy you a new one"

43. "I don't want it anymore"

44. "You're getting blood all over me"

45. "You will be hearing from my lawyer"

46. "Well, you can go fuck yourself"

47. "Did you ever work in porn?"

48. "Who invited you?"

49. "This sounds like a scam"

50. "$800? I don't have that kind of money"

Scenarios

A. A and B have an appointment at the same clinic after their partner cheated on them, without knowing the other person is their side piece.

B. A server spills a milkshake on a customer's fancy new shirt, and is entirely unapologetic about it.

C. A and B match on Tinder and they quickly realise the other person is insane and unmatch. They then meet again on a blind date.

D. They've waged a passive aggressive war against eachother for years for being 'that annoying neighbour' by leaving notes in the laundry room without actually having met.

E. They're both hospitalised in the same room, and absolutely everything their new roommate does is annoying. And their family and friends are even worse.

F. It's the worst day ever already, and in comes an idiot who thinks it's cute to be overly friendly.

G. A is gleefully eating something B had been looking forward to all week – and it was the last one!

H. A stole B's cat accidentally, but now it's been over a year, so whose cat is it really.

I. A suddenly having to become a babysitter for a very drunk B, a complete stranger.

J. A and B have been tricked into babysitting the same pair of chaotic twins.

K. A finds B wildly attractive, and has had a crush on them for a good while, however during their first conversation, A blanks and insults B.

L. Just your ordinary everyday traffic accident between a car and a bike.

M. A drunkenly texts B, thinking they're A's ex, and now B won't stop teasing them about it.

N. On a skiing trip, A walks into what they think is their own lodge, only to find that the bed they're sleeping in belongs to B, who very much doesn't appreciate waking up to being spooned by a stranger.

O. A is the sole reason they're desperately trying to survive an avalanche.

P. A's dog messes up B's date, but is refusing to pay for a new pair of pants.

Q. A's sibling fucks over B, and when B comes over to slap some sense into them, they end up slapping A.

R. A gets an angry phone call from B, cussing out someone with a name that's similar to theirs. At first they wanted to hang up, but now A just really wants to hear how that person fucked up.

S. A is a stand-in for B's partner in a reality TV show, and is doing their damnedest at messing them up since B was dismissive of them when they met. Revenge isn't always cold, bitch.

T. They're sharing an Uber from a club, and holy shit, A is bleeding all over the place, so B has no option but to help to avoid paying a cleaning fee.

U. A works at an amusement park as a mascot in a suit. B lives to torment the mascots, and now that there aren't kids around, A is ready to let them have it.

V. A is running late, and only notices their shirt is inside out in the elevator. They try to put it on right but they get stuck with their shirt half off. B is the shocked neighbour who finds A like that.

W. A has brought in flowers to work to welcome the new hire, who happens to be extremely allergic to said flowers.

X. Someone keeps stealing A's food from the fridge, and having had enough, A poisons their food with an inordinate amount of chili peppers. Now to wait for the screams of B come lunchtime.

Y. If A doesn't shut up about their ex anytime soon, B is going to blow a gasket and tell them to get a life. They're in public for fucks sake, have your mental breakdown somewhere else.

Z. A has talked mad shit about B at length, not realising they'd be their next opponent in their next match. Now it's personal.

#prompt list #writing #meet ugly #writerblr #dialogue prompts

[bokettochild]

with my father's funeral today and your perchance to write excellent "Wars/Time/Sky going dad", felt like telling you about a rather fitting song for any of the Link-Dads (although im mostly focusing on Sky and Legend)

it's called "My Father's Eyes" by Eric Clapton. he wrote it as his whole life, he never met his father. one lyric from it "I feel like a bridge that was washed away. My foundations were made of clay" made me think of Legend and how although he had his uncle, you do have part of him longing to have had parents at some point. knowing they love you helps, but it's quite different when they're gone forever

trust me, i know

another fitting line was "As my soul, slides down to die, how did I lose him, what did i try? Bit by bit, I've realized. That he was here with me, I looked into my father's eyes." it reminded me of when Legend realizes that Sky is pretty much his dad now. even though he never had his father, he looked up and saw him in Sky

it's a great song, my dad loved it

I'm sorry I didn't get to this over the weekend when you sent it, but as soon as I could, i sat down and listened to the song.

I don't know why or how I came out writing what I did, but I hope it helps at least a little (I think you were asking for a story? Sorry if I read this wrong)

Anyways, my brain's been trapped by the last update, and the song made me listen to other similar ones and I got this

Midnight Skies

Legend won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel jealous when, the moment they arrive at Hyrule castle, Four runs and jumps into the arms of the first knight they see. Not that he’d freely admit to said jealousy though as it churns in his gut when the man swings their smallest hero around with a deep laugh before settling small feet again to the earth and ruffling already mused and messy blonde hair. Height aside, there’s enough resemblance; something in the eyes and the set of the jaw, that leaves no doubt as to the fact that the armored soldier is their smithy’s father. 

And doesn’t that just sting. 

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t let on anything over dinner, as not one but two men sit to their smithy’s side, father and grandfather all too eager to hear how their boy has been, egging stories out of the heroes and sharing some of their own. All while Four groans into the table and tries, desperately, to discredit all present and deny any and all accusations. Legend manages, somehow, to smile and laugh along, all while something dark twists inside his gut, hating the smithy for the way the other hero groans and complains about father and grandfather both. 

As if he isn’t the luckiest one among them to have both. 

Time’s father was a tree, or so the joke goes. 

Twilight was raised by a whole village, the local blacksmith taking primary care of teaching him as he grew up, but even then, the relationship isn’t exactly father and son. 

Warriors keeps any word of family held close to his chest, but the brief mentions in past imply that any father he knew was distant and typically drunk. 

Wild doesn’t remember being a kid, much less having a family. 

Wind was raised by his grandmother. 

Hyrule’s father was gone before he was ever born. 

Sky was an orphan raised in the academy by the elderly housekeeper and her husband. 

And well, Legend had his uncle. For all of eight years before Ganon’s knights killed the man in a sewer beneath the castle. And even after the triforce brought him back, the man was... different. 

It hurt. 

Four’s father is warm. And when the smithy splits, four persons now rather than one, all are greeted by color and treated with fondness. 

Uncle could never understand why he’d changed. Why the little boy who had wanted to run an orchard and live in the country would suddenly wake up crying most nights. Why warm hugs were fought off in panic. He’d been startled when Legend couldn’t stand to so much look at a dog, never mind pet one. There’d been endless confusion, and on some nights, he’d overheard Uncle talking with the Elder’s wife. She’d come up to check on them, on him specifically, but they’d both thought he was asleep. He wishes he had been. He'd never have heard Uncle admit he didn’t know how to handle him anymore. He'd never have heard the man call him a stranger. 

Legend had set out the next day, claiming to visit Zelda.  

A visit turned into a plea for anything to get him out, which itself turned to a mission to Holodrum to find Din. 

Some days, he regrets having left. 

The house was empty when he came home. He’s still not exactly sure what happened, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he hopes, wherever he went, that Uncle’s life got easier without him. 

Sometimes he wishes he’d fought back the screaming of his mind and just allowed strong arms to wrap around him one last time. Wishes he’d hid it better. Realistically, at nine years old, there was no way to hide the demons in his mind. Not while living in a little one room cottage. Not when Uncle stayed up late anyways, or late for Legend anyway. Now, nine o’clock hardly seems late at all, especially when sleep evades him so often, but back then, it’d seemed so very late indeed, especially in winter. 

Sometimes, when Warriors takes out his pipe or someone cleans their sword, he can almost smell the heavy tobacco and sword grease scent the old knight always carried on him. Even now, sitting in Four’s house, the smell is everywhere. Grandpa Smith smells just like him, and doesn’t that just rub it all in deeper? Doesn’t watching the little touches, the hands on shoulders, the hair ruffles, the slaps of the back that nearly send the smithy flying, just make his heart scream and fists clench with the desperate urge to punch the smithy in his smiling face. 

Four just had to have it all, didn’t he? And the smithy doesn’t even realize it. 

Legend excuses himself as soon as dinner is over. 

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, is careful to smile and duck out when the others are all talking. It’s just all too much to stand and watch, and it hurts a part of him that he thought he’d numbed ages ago. So, the moment he gets out, a breathe of relief escapes into the night air around him. 

He’s fine. 

No really, he is. He’s fine. 

Gnarled fingers catch old wood. The roof over the forge isn’t low, but it’s lower than the one in the house, and with the slope of it, so common in add-ons, it’s easy to hoist himself up onto the thatching, to settle back against weathered straw and stare up at the skies. 

The night is a cool one, but any breeze there is exists in only a whisper, and he manages to not shiver against it as he lays, tracing constellations and finding long familiar ones. 

Well, until he remembers how Uncle had been the one who’d taught him how to find them, then it’s ruined. 

He’s not mad, he really isn’t. 

But it does hurt. 

It hurts like finding his parent’s house. Like knowing they were alive for years, that they weren’t dead like everyone said, or at least not when they’d said it. They’d been out there; lost, but thinking of him, and if he’d only come sooner, set out instead of lingering, innocent and clueless at home with Uncle, he might have had a chance to meet them. 

Legend pushes himself up, arms wrapping around his knees as he stares to the stoney path that leads to the forge door. 

Did he have his mother’s eyes? Before the dark world’s transformations changed their color for good? Did he get the pretty crystal blue from her? His father? Zelda has the same color as he used to; which parent did she get it from? They’re almost each others’ reflections, past scars and pain, the streaks of silver in her hair and the creases beneath his eyes. Life hasn’t been kind to either of them, but they had each other. 

He wishes they’d had more. 

He hasn’t been around as much as he wishes, but they’ve sat up and talked about it once or twice. What were they like- Zelda once mused into his arms- their parents? Was their father tall? Was their mother pretty? Do they have his nose? Which one had slender hands? Which one did the two of them get their sharp ears from? Who was the strong one? 

And when the sun had set lower, and it’d been too dark in the keep for them to see each other anymore: would they have loved them? Would they be proud? Would their parents have looked at what they’ve done with their lives and smile? Would they be sad? 

He’d never said it, kept it close, but tonight, staring up at the sky, Legend wonders if they would have understood. 

Or maybe they would have been like Uncle, and the fate that got its claws into their children would have made them turn away in despair as well. 

His throat hurts. 

“Legend?”  

The voice is soft, but it makes him start all the same. He hadn’t heard the door open at all, but there’s a shadow on the path below, framed in the light from the open cottage door. 

Quickly, he runs a sleeve over his face. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but he checks just to be sure. After all, you can never be too cautious around other people. Especially adults. 

“Vet?” the voice repeats, a tick of concern in it. 

For a moment he debates just waiting for them to go in again and give up. He’s tired of people, and he doesn’t want to deal with whomever it is. He thinks it’s Twilight, that or Warriors, because the voice isn’t rough enough for Time, and the shadow is too tall for anyone else. 

But after the time on the road that they’ve had, after he’s scolded Wild and Hyrule both for wandering off so often, he doesn’t exactly have the right to let the others worry. Not when he’s scolded so much for them doing the same. 

“Up here,” it’s more sigh than call, drawn out reluctantly as he hunches forwards a bit further, chin settling on his folded arms. 

The shadow on the path shifts. There’s the sound of everyone in the house still laughing and talking, but it fades as the door falls shut, the light and thus the shadow below disappearing with the noise. 

He breathes again. They went in. He’s alone again. 

He kind of wishes he wasn’t. 

“You alright?” 

So, he isn’t? Legend straightens, looking down below the thatching and catching sight of sideswept bangs and dark eyes. Twilight’s stare is shadowed, by his hair, the light, and some emotion the veteran can’t name, but it’s intense. If he hadn’t been fixed by it so many times before, it would make Legend squirm. It doesn’t though. He’s had the rancher up his tail enough before to be used to his stare. Scolding him for bullying Sky (he’d just been frustrated, but who even cared really?) for snarking back, or teasing Time. Twilight’s stare was on him almost the whole time he got turned into a rabbit, and while it wasn’t nearly as stern, it held a similar weight. Now it’s more similar to the night after that horrid battle with the shadow. Twilight’s eyes aren’t harsh or accusing, but there’s something warm in them for the brief moment he can see them before the man disappears beneath the awning. 

Callused hands catch the beam at the edge of the rood, and it’s only a moment or so before the rancher is swinging up in front of him, puffing and grinning crookedly as midnight blue eyes catch his own. “Up for some company?” 

He shrugs, but motions to the roof around him, settling further into his slump. 

Twilight’s smile fades into a frown in moments. “Something bothering you?” 

He shakes his head. 

Dark brows draw low as the rancher swings up fully, crawling across the roof before settling at his side, heavy eyes fixed on him all the while. “What’s eating you?” 

“Nothing,” he mumbles into his arms, but even as he says it, he knows Twilight won’t believe him. 

The rancher’s hand lifts from the roof, hovering between them, uncertain. 

Legend turns his stare back to the path below them. “’m just tired, rancher. ‘s fine.” 

Heavy eyes scream disbelief more than words bother to utter. 

Legend shifts, curling a bit tighter and setting his jaw, gaze fixing on the ground below. If he doesn’t look, Twilight’s pained stare can’t make him talk. If he doesn’t move, maybe Twilight too will give up and just walk away. It would make trying to sort his head out easier. 

“Ledge, hey, talk to me.” 

The rancher’s voice is so soft it physically hurts. 

“You’ve been tense all evening, bunny-” 

And that is just the breaking point because that’s Uncle’s pet name for him! He can’t help the way he turns, scowling, ready to hiss that Twilight cannot call him that, only to pause as predicted at the man’s heavy stare. Twilight looks all so familiarly pained, like he does when Wild’s struggling with his memories or Time’s being especially harsh. He’s never seen it directed at him though. 

He's not sure what to do with it. 

Dark hair sweeps forwards as the older man shifts, leaning against his own raised legs to mimic the veteran’s pose, stare heavy and seeking, but not expectant. “Did something happen?” 

It takes a moment for him to remember to respond, but when he does he shakes his head quickly. Breaking eye contact helps, and he drops his gaze back to the path below, chin settling in the folds of his sleeves to stop him glancing back. 

“Well somethings eating you.” 

Not anything that’s the rancher’s business though. 

“You’re not normally this quiet.” 

That earns a look. A scowl that has Twilight chuckling, deep and throaty, shoulders shaking as the man turns glittering eyes back to the path.  

Legend follows his gaze. There's nothing down there, but at least it’s something to look at. He needs that; if his mind doesn’t settle on something he just knows his thoughts will spiral out to places even he doesn’t recognize. 

It’s quiet for a moment, only the deep sounds of Twilight’s breathing and the rustle of trees filling the air around them, and despite himself, Legend tunes himself to their sound, matching the rancher’s breath with his own until his heart slows a little in his chest and some of the knot that’s curled there loosens. It’s only then, as he matches the pace of the other, that Twilight breaks it to speak.  

“Almost makes me miss home.” 

“Ordon?” He’s not sure why he asked. 

The rancher nods. “Yeah.” There’s another little chuckle, the shaking of the rancher’s head as he moves to lean back against his arms, eyes drifting upwards towards the sky. Legend tracks his stare, turned upwards to the Ancient Beast; the stars of its eyes twinkling extra bright against the expanse, as it stares down as though to meet it’s match. He huffs a little at the thought, silent, and turns back to stare at the path below them. 

There’s a few stones missing on the left side, cracked and overgrown on the right. 

It needs repair. 

“I’ll bet Uli’s singing the baby to sleep right now,” the rancher muses, smile fond and lonesome. “Colin will have drifted off ages ago, and Rusl is probably still out in the forge, getting the last of the fall work done before the snow sets in.” The man hums, rolling his shoulders. “Goat kids’ll be nearly grown about now, ready for slaughter.” 

Legend winces, and it earns another laugh from the man as sparkling eyes turn down to him again, grin still present but all too aware. “How about you? What will it be like at home for you?” 

He debates answering, before at least deciding it’s not worth it to let Twi keep pushing. “The trees are probably ready for harvest. Orchard will be all full of fallen fruit right about now.” 

“And?” the other man prods. 

The veteran shrugs. “Fields are probably being cleared. I dunno, I’m not a farmer.” 

“What is your family probably doing?” 

Something sharp and bitter inside whispers ‘lying in graves’ but he keeps that to himself, instead answering “don’t have one.” 

Again the soft smile fades, warm eyes all too pained, all too knowing, all too frustratingly warm as he sits and tries to ignore them. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s life.” 

“So you have no one?” 

Silence. 

“Not even a friend somewhere, waiting for you to come home?” 

He shrugs again, he’s not sure. Zelda is out there, but she knows he’s gone and won’t be expecting him back. Syrup and Irene might notice he’s gone, Gully will, but they won’t be waiting either. They all know he comes and goes like the autumn wind, there one moment and gone the next. It’s almost a saying back in Kakariko that if you see the hero you’d better catch him before he fades away, as there’s no telling where he is from day to day. 

Seeing as there’s no place to linger for long, he doesn’t know what they expect. 

Twilight twists around, gaze heavy and eyes sorrowful. “Is that what it is? Seeing Four at home?” 

He huddles down a bit furtehr, as though the flinch off the blow the words deal. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” And it’s less question than it is sigh, the rancher turning back to the sky, pain still present in midnight blue, the stars dimming within. “When there’s no one at home waiting-” 

“Do you have to rub it in?” 

Twilight starts, flushes slightly and moves to rub at his neck. “Sorry.” 

“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbles into his sleeves, fingers gripping tight in dark folds. “’s just how things are. No point crying about it.” 

“Makes things awful lonely though.” 

As though Twilight needed to tell him. 

Legend curls just a bit tighter into himself, eyes falling shut. It’s childish, but a part of him hopes that if he closes his eyes, Twilight will just go away and stop reminding him of it all. “Don’t you have a champion to be wrangling right about now?” 

The thatch beneath them rustles, betraying some sort of movement from his companion, but this time he has the sense to keep his eyes shut as Twilight answers, has the sense to leave himself in the dark as to the look on the other man’s face, or what he’s doing. “Wild seemed pretty content to sit and listen to Time trying to out match Leon and Mister Smith.” 

“And you weren’t content to stay with them?” 

There’s a soft little hum and then “I wanted to be out here with you.” 

What the actual- 

“Why?” 

“Because.” As though it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

And it seems like to Twilight it must be, because when he lifts his face to stare at the man, bright eyes are turned up towards the sky, face peaceful and undisturbed, even as Legend stares in utter and complete confusion. He keeps staring too, waiting for Twilight to admit some real reason, or to look at him and laugh at him for believing the words, but the man doesn’t. Twilight just keeps watching the sky, gaze darting from one constellation to another until at last the man frowns, face creasing in confusion as he stares upwards. 

Curious, Legend tries to follow his gaze. He has to edge a bit closer to the other man, but the flick of an ear is the only response to his motion, so that even when he's only a few inches away, there’s no complaint.  

When he looks up, he sees the Holy Maiden cradling the moon in her arms. 

“Four said there’s something round the moon,” it’s like Twi knows he’s looking too, although he knows there’s been nary a glance spared his way since last words were spoken. “but I can’t fathom what the heck it is.” 

Legend huffs. “It’s the Holy Maiden.” 

“The wha?” Twilight’s smile is almost infectuous. 

He rolls his eyes, leaning a bit closer to trace the stars, showing the rancher how they mesh and weave into the image. “It’s Lolia, goddess of the Mirror World.” His hand falls, and it’s only then he realizes just how close he’s pressed himself to his brother’s side, Twilight’s gaze on him though stops him from shifting away, almost wary to move at all as the man watches. “She’s Hylia’s reflection.” 

There’s a furrow in dark brows, but nothing said. Rather, an arm comes up around behind him, warm and solid against his back.  

He's not sure what prompts him to continue, gaze trailing up to stare at the crescent cradled in star formed arms. “They say that when darkness first fell on the world, the people were afraid the world was ending, so Lolia crafted the moon to give them light and assurance, even on the longest and harshest of nights. They say she holds it up herself each night to give promise to her people, and whenever it’s light fades, she renews it so they’ll never be without.” 

“Always just thought it was a big rock in the sky,” comes the answering hum. 

Legend snorts. 

The arm behind him shifts, lifting to settle around his shoulder and pull him closer as the rancher’s other hand points upwards, towards the Great Triangle. “What about that bunch over there.” 

Laughter escapes him despite himself at the man’s incompetance. “You really were brough up human, huh?” 

He’s expecting some scolding or huff, but Twilight just glances down, arching a brow expectantly. 

Legend rolls his eyes and gives in. “it’s the Great Triangle, the stars that point the way to Hyrule Castle. Once upon a time, they say the Triforce was formed up there.”  

~~~~~~~~~ 

#lu legend #lu twilight #ketto writes #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #cantankerouscanuck my beloved #best wishes with you friend #i hope you find healing

[chocolatecake47]

Rayla is like: 

Watched her parents leave “I watched you leave"/"Stood there and watched you walk away, from everything we had”, - them being gone/missing for most of her childhood (“but when will you be back?”) “Skies grew darker, currents swept you out again, and you were just gone and gone, gone and gone”- Their ghosting/outcasting “Cause I honestly believed in you/Holdin’ on, the days drag on" - Her trauma and stigma around her parents betrayal slowly isolating her from everyone “My friends from home don’t know what to say”

Coming on a mission of vengeance and murder at only 15 years old and choosing to change the narrative (“My heart for Xadia!/Say the word and I’ll go back into that tower with you!”) “People look at me like I'm a monster"/"I brought a knife to a gunfight"/"when I fought you used to tell me I was brave” - Fighting her father for people she doesn’t know just because its the right thing “they strike to kill and you know I will"/"you had to kill me but it killed you just the same” - Getting ghosted herself and literally being able to travel all over the world and go anymore but not the place she grew up in “And I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home” - Believing in her core that she’s not good enough even though she did the right thing, believing everyone is right to be disappointed in her (“they’re right to reject me! I’m never good enough and I never will be!”) “I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting"/"They used to cheer when they saw my face, now I fear I have fallen from grace”  - Truly believing that her pain is irrelevant “I know my pain is such an imposition” because she thinks she doesn’t matter “Always taking up too much space or time”, - Expresses surprise over being loved because no one has ever been so open about it or loved her in her hardest darkest moments “starry eyes sparking up my darkest night"/"Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky, and he feels like home” - Thinking she has to defend her parents honor and die because of their supposed failure (“All of this happened because my parents ran away, so I have to stay and defend the dragon queen”) “Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me”/“Remember how I said I’d die for you?”- Thinking it is her job to save everyone without letting anyone be there for her but it always ends up being more complicated “Never a clean break, no one here to save me”

The war finally over, everyone thinking things were finally ‘calming down’ but she was distracted, stressed, looking for closure, her mind kept reeling until her body finally did as well “Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke”, - Waking up from nightmares with the reality of 3 of her parents being dead crashing over her and holding strong to that sacrificing mentality ("They said that, sometimes, we make sacrifices so that the ones we love don’t have to. It’s part of protecting them”) “I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, invisible smoke, and all of my heroes died all alone, help me hold on to you”, Waking from horrible nightmares that Viren has done something to Callum which results in her leaving before he can leave her “I wake up screaming from dreaming, one day I’ll watch as your leaving, and life will loose all its meaning, for the last time”, Desperately wanting her logic to be understood ("Please Callum, this is about who I am") "You say, “I don’t understand,” and I say, “I know you don’t” - Had such a fear the world would divide them it tore at her inside until she couldn’t bear it “I loved you in spite of, deep fears that the world would divide us” - Leaving without telling him  (“Don’t follow me, and don’t look for me {I have to go}.”) “Left Cornelia Street before you even knew I was gone” - Her self-sabotaging brain thinking that despite the love the last two weeks have given her she still wasn’t deserving of good things, and she had to leave because thats what they (meaning her family) did (“But I can’t let you stop me, Callum. No matter how much I want to. I wish I could say that we will see each other again, but I don’t know if we will.”) “Don’t pretend its such a mystery, think about the place where you first met me”, - Believing she’s a burden and her parents aren’t Callum’s problem to deal with/she’s not Callum’s problem to deal with anymore (“from doing what I know I have to do. Leaving.”) “I’m not your problem anymore”, - desperately hoping that he doesn’t hate her even though she’s hurt him, because she thinks she’s doing the right thing by building an illusion to protect him (“Please don’t hate me when that illusion fades, Callum.”)“Never wanted you to hate me” - desperately hoping he’ll still trust her and want her after “Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?” - Searching everywhere for any trace of Viren, any trace of what happened to her parents to make the wound stop bleeding “Trace the evidence, make it make some sense, why the wound is still bleeding” - the thought of Callum being something that got her through her hardest times alone “And when I was shipwrecked, I thought of you/When it was real enough, to get me through" - the idea of coming home to Callum & Ezran being the only thing keeping her going “And I just want to run to you, And every time I don’t, I almost do”,

Not knowing what to say, not knowing how to turn up empty-handed after two years, not knowing what to do to make things better, but only knowing that she is falling apart and is goddamn trying her best and she needs him (“All day I’ve, I mean, all week really, I’ve been so nervous and kind of edge-frazzled, you know?”) “And maybe I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m here in your doorway; I just wanted you to know that this is me trying”/“Standing in front of you saying, “I’m sorry for that night”, - The part of her brain that is mean to her thinking its justified if Callum doesn’t want to be with her anymore after what she’s done “So if the chain is on your door I understand” but deep down her heart wants him to say that it wasn’t her fault and everything will be okay and they will be best friends again and that he understands her twisted logic and forgives her for it “Tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when I loose my mind/tell me that its not my fault, tell me that I’m all you want, even when I break your heart” - knowing that she has a lot of trust to rebuild with a lot of people “There are so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven” -resulting to wait forever, offering to put his heart back together, and promising to never leave again, “I want you for worse or for better, I would wait for ever and ever, broke your heart, I’ll put it back together” because he is the best thing that ever happened to her and the best thing thats ever been hers even if she is realizing it and admitting to it a little late (“the best thing I ever had: you”) “You are the best thing thats ever been mine”.

Long story short the world screwed her over and over and over again. She was the prey so much she quickly had to become the archer in order to survive.

PS. I didn’t want to tag every song cuz then it gets launched into a whole different side of Tumblr, but if you’re wondering where I pulled lyrics from they are all listed under the cut in (hopefully) chronological order (even though I did repeat songs a couple times but not lyrics!)

Haunted 

This Love

White horse

Your on your own kid

Castles Crumbling

Call it what you want

Mad woman

My tears ricochet (this song is so Rayla/Runaan-coded omg)

You’re loosing me

Tolerate it

Long story short

Ours 

False God

Breathe

Daylight

The Archer (this song is also so Rayla-coded)

Anti-Hero

Dancing with our hands tied

Cornelia Street

Getaway Car

Exile

Hits different 

Evermore 

I almost do (Rayllum-coded for sure)

This is me trying

Back to December (this is the most Rayllum-coded song I've ever heard)

Afterglow (i pulled the whole bridge from here basically)

How you get the girl

Mine

#tdp rayla #the dragon prince #this is a complete psychological breakdown of Rayla's life lol 😅 #took me five days once the inspo started hitting #dont ask me where this idea came from #i just love Rayla #im nervous

[kayhi808]

Billy Mine - Act 2.13

"She's my bunny."

"Bill, you're awake." Keeping an eye on the angry man I move to brush his hair off his forehead & he gives me a dopey smile that I can't help but return. "How do you feel?"

Shuffling his legs, "I'm good."

"You're not good. You took a bullet." The man stands at the foot of Bill's bed, arms folded across this chest, biceps bulging. If you're trying to intimidate me, you win, guy.

"Oooh. Yeah. I did. Yup, I'm not good." Bill nods at me.

I turn to the man, "Juliet Ellis," extending my hand, controling it from shaking, "And you are?"

"Frank Castle," his warm hand wraps around mine, "Juliet?"

"Bunny! Her name is Bunny!" Bill looks disgruntled.

"Shhhhh." Turning back to Bill, resting my fingers against his lips. Bill's dark gaze meets mine. His eyes are normally so dark I didn't notice it right away, his pupils are almost pinpoints.

"Keep it down, man."

Cradling his goofy smiling face, "Hon, they got you on some strong meds, don't they?" Bill closes his eyes and sighs.

Frank laughs, a low rumble, "He's high as hell. He's not feeling a thing."

Turning to Frank, "Bill's told me about you. He calls you his brother. Do you know if he's going to be ok? They wouldn't tell me anything because I'm not family."

"It wasnt a clean shot. They had to go in, remove the bullet. It broke off in pieces so they had to find it all. They gave him some blood. He lost quite a bit, but he's good for a full recovery. Since its late, they said they'll keep him overnight. They're readying a room for him now."

Nodding & wiping away tears of relief, "Thank you."

"Bill's told me about you, too." Noticing your stolen hospital gown, "Have you been admitted? Were you hurt? I was told only Bill and another agent was injured."

"You're hurt?!" Bill jerks awake, "Fuck!" Clenching his teeth at agrivating his injury, groaning, Frank moves over to firmly pin him back down to the bed.

"I'm fine. I'm not hurt." Bill now notices your hospital gown. "I had to find you, so I stole these to wear. They wouldn't let me back here, so i needed to blend in. Pinkie promise, I'm ok." I squeeze his hand.

"Still an escape artist."

Whispering, "Nothing will keep me apart from you, Billy Mine." You kiss his forehead & he closes his eyes and settles.

You hear a commotion outside & a harried nurse walks in glaring at you, "Ms Ellis? You aren't allowed back here."

"It's ok. She's family."

"Well, the Senator is outside looking for her now," shooting me a well deserved glare.

"Shit." I'm torn between leaving Bill and facing my Dad.

"Go take care of that. If they move him, I'll make sure they give you his room number. He'll be fine."

"Thank you, Frank." You drop another kiss to Billy's brow and squeeze Frank's arm as you pass him to head outside.

*****

The New York skies took to storming after the attack at the fundraiser. I zone out watching the rain hit the window pane & water beads racing down the glass. It calms me. I concentrate on that and then my brain won't overthink how it feels like its my fault that Billy got hurt. The steady beep of the heart monitor is also strangely soothing. It proves to me that Bill is alive & well. Mom brought me some of my own clothes to wear. Dad & that one nurse are not happy with my "shenanigans" but I'll deal with that later. Ugh.

The nurses are in every couple of hours to check his vitals. Thankfully he's slept through them, and the nurses say he's fine.

I pulled a couple chairs together to form a little makeshift bed for myself. I wanted to stay with Bill. Frank left once Bill was transferred to this room. He'll return before Bill gets discharged in the morning.

*****

I don't know when I finally fell asleep, but I wake upon hearing the motor to Billy's bed. He's awake & trying to sit up. "Bun, what are you doing here?"

I jump up ready to help him adjust his pillows to make him more comfortable. He groans in pain & swings his legs off the bed. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"I need to take a piss. You want to help me with that?"

Such a wise-ass, "Do you need help? I can have them fit you for a catheter." He gives me a sneer but places his hand on my shoulder to stand. It takes him a bit to get his balance. In a softer tone, "Are you ok, Bill?" He doesn't answer me, but grabs his IV cart & shoves me hard enough so I fall back on his bed. "Don't move."

While Bill's in the small bathroom, I try to straighten up his blankets, fluff his pillows, pour some water for him if he's thirsty. I have a bunch of nervous energy.

He comes back out and I debate asking if he needs help. I don't want to smother him, but I don't know how to help. He returns to bed and there's a light sheen of perspirations on his brow. He leans back against his pillow, a little out of breath. I wipe his brow & offer him water, which he takes. "Thank you." Looking at my wonky chairs, "You spent the night on that? Why didn't you go home?"

Shaking my head, "I couldn't. You were here. I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up," my eyes tear up and my voice pitches higher. (I absolutely HATE when it does that.) "What if something happened to you and I wasn't here?" I choke on a sob.

"Aw, sweetheart, c'mere." I start ugly crying before I can stop myself. Billy holds out his good arm to me and grabs a hold of my shirt and pulls me to him. He maneuvers the IV tubing out of the way and fits me on the bed so I'm cradled to his side. All he can do is lean his cheek on the top of my head, "Stop babe, you're breaking my heart."

"You got hurt because of me. I could have lost you again and I don't think I could survive that," shaking my head. Trying to make him see reason.

"Bunny, this was not your fault.. This is the job...."

"Then I don't want you doing jobs like this." Bill laughs & then groans. "See!" I get up so he can have more room & not jostle his wound.

"Look, I know it was scary but I'm ok. We're ok. We'll talk about this later, alright? For now, I just want to hold my girl." He pouts & makes grabby hands with his good arm until I get close enough for him to grab my shirt again & pulls me down to his side. I could have put up more of a fight, but I wanted nothing more than to have Billy Mine in my arms again.

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11 @russosafehaven @bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers @snowkestrel @jvanilly @terry2227

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy mine x bunny girl #billy mine #billy x juliet

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Shuusuke Fuji

[PROFILE]

Birthday: February 29th (Pisces)

Blood Type: B

Relatives: Father, Mother (Yoshiko Fuji), Older Sister (Yumiko Fuji), Younger Brother (Yuuta Fuji)

Father’s Occupation: Company Employee (foreign company)

Elementary School: Seishundai Third Elementary School

Middle School: Seishun Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Third Year | Class 3-6 | Seat 14

Club: Tennis Club (Regular)

Committee: Yearbook Production Committee

Strong Subjects: Classic Literature

Weak Subjects: Science

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Photography Room

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “What is essential is invisible to the eyes.”

Daily Routines: Tending to his cacti, drinking morning coffee

Hobbies: Collecting cacti, photography

Favorite Color: Beige

Favorite Music: Celtic music

Favorite Movie: Musicals

Favorite Book: Interior design magazines ➜ Travelogues, travel photo collections [23.5]

Favorite Food: Apples, Cajun food, spicy ramen ➜ Anything spicy, 100% apple juice [23.5]

Favorite Anniversary: The birthday of a special someone

Preferred Type: A person with beautiful fingers ➜ A person who smells like flowers [23.5]

Ideal Date Spot: Planetarium ➜ An observatory with a beautiful view of the stars [23.5]

His Gift For a Special Person: A flower ring

Where He Wants to Travel: Salar de Uyuni on a starry night

Thing He Wants Most Right Now: Antique furniture and tableware ➜ Incentive [23.5]

Dislikes: Sour food

Skills Outside of Tennis: Skiing, ice-skating and other winter sports ➜ Winter sports, locating constellations [23.5]

Spends Allowance On: Things to help with his cacti

Routine During the World Cup: Drinking coffee from around the world, contacting his brother

[DATA]

Height: 167cm

Weight: 53kg

Shoe Size: 25cm

Dominant Arm: Right

Vision: 1.2 Left | 1.0 Right

Play Style: Counter Puncher

Signature Moves: Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Return), Higuma Otoshi (Bear Drop), Hakugei (White Whale), Kagero Zutsumi (Dragonfly Illusion), Houou Gaeshi (Phoenix Return), Kirin Otoshi (Qilin Drop), Hakuryuu (White Dragon), Gatekeeper of Hecatoncheires, Hoshi Hanabi (Starry Fireworks), Closed Eye, Aoi Fubuki (Blue Blizzard), Hikari Kaze (Wind of Light)

Time He Wakes Up: 6:00am

Time He Goes to Sleep: 11:30pm

Number of Inui Juices Consumed: 16

Favorite Brands:

Racquet: prince (TRIPLE THREAT RIP), prince (MICHAEL CHANG TITANIUM)

Shoes: Nike (NIKE READY AIR BISCAYNE MID III)

Fitness Test Results:

Sidesteps: 63

Shuttle Run: 115

Back Strength: 116kg

Grip Strength: 47kg

Backbend: 62 cm

Seated Forward Bend: 47.8cm

50m Run: 6.8 seconds

Standing Long Jump: 232cm

Handball Throw: 31.5m

Endurance Run (1500m): 4:44

Overall Rating: Speed: 3 / Power: 3 / Stamina: 3 / Mental: 4 / Technique: 5 / Total: 18

Kurobe Memo: “Evident from his beautiful play style, he is undoubtedly gifted in the sport. If he weren’t so concerned with playing aesthetically, I suspect he could go from a great player to an undeniably strong one.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bedroom [10.5]

Cacti // He moves them back and forth between his windowsill and shelves for sunlight

A rocking chair

Record player // He prefers it over a CD player since it’s quieter

Vinyl records // Bought from used record stores. Most of them are classic and jazz

Computer // The monitor is placed on the shelf next to his desk to conserve space. He’ll put his keyboard on his desk when he needs to use it

His favorite photos // Large printed photos he had taken on holidays and trips that are hanging on his wall

A very spacious closet // He stores his clothes, books, school uniforms and other things in it

What’s in His Bag [10.5]:

Cell phone // His family members are frequently on the go

Pass case

An English copy of The Little Prince // A book that’s dear to him, he’s read it in Japanese and is now reading the English version

Word cards // He’ll write down words he doesn’t understand in The Little Prince and look them up when he gets home

Writing supplies // Used to write down the situations, dates, times of shooting and other details when he captures photos

Compact camera

Compact mirror // He also uses it as a reflector for photos

What’s in His Locker at the U-17 Training Camp [10.5 II]:

Illustrated plant encyclopedia // Borrowed from Shiraishi

Muscle training equipment // 5kg dumbbells. He is secretly doing strength training to improve his power

Camera // Digital SLR

Interior design magazines // He’s thinking about redecorating his room once he returns from the camp

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis 10.5 Fanbook | Release Date: 11/02/2001

He has his eyes closed most of the time to exude friendliness, but will open them when he’s being cautious or calculating. Konomi states they are usually closed whenever he’s smiling

His mother cooks a lot of Cajun and western dishes, which is why he doesn’t mind eating dubious food

He is very family-oriented and kind to his relatives. When he goes shopping with his sister they are often mistaken as lovers

Konomi wrote him to like spicy food since he wanted him to seem different and unusual

He is nicknamed “Fujiko” by Kawamura after the heroine of Lupin III since the latter is a fan of the series

On Sundays he goes to his grandfather’s photo studio on the outskirts of town to take photos

He tries keeping a smile on his face since he wants to find enjoyment in everything. Even when facing a strong opponent in a match, he thinks of how lucky he is that he’s able to go up against a great player

He and his brother Yuuta do not fight, but they do not talk to each other as often as they used to since Yuuta entered middle school

Although he notoriously likes spicy food, he likes sweets as well. He especially loves the raspberry pie his sister Yumiko makes

Despite being born on February 29th, a leap year, everyone still celebrates his birthday every year. Kikumaru once jokingly said to him “You’re only three years old!”

His personality is described as someone who’s very calculating while wearing a smile

Konomi describes him as “growing more on his own”, since at the time he was growing increasingly popular and took on a life of his own

The Prince of Tennis 20.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2003

He is known to be very attentive and can make friends of all types

He keeps his room neat and orderly

He could not handle drinking “Aozu” in Genius 159 due to one of its key ingredients being vinegar (he dislikes sour foods)

His secondary sport would be figure skating

The Prince of Tennis 40.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2007

He is very competitive and will usually stay calm and undaunted in any situation

He is described to be very versatile and multi-talented as well as fastidious, and has a tendency to delve deep into various things in order to feel satisfied

He is easily attracted to mysterious things

He is thought to have had strong spiritual powers by nature and has had strange occurrences happen to him

He is often misunderstood due to his mysterious nature, but he is actually very loving, compassionate and easily moved to tears

He had written a research paper on cacti the previous summer that received a lot of praise and attention, even surprising university researchers

He came up with the name “Gatekeeper of Hecatoncheires” for his technique from a book on Greece he had read when he was younger

Konomi had plans for him to transfer to Rikkai, and states he alluded it after his match with Ryoma, but ultimately decided for him to stay at Seigaku. He explains that he wanted him to transfer to grow even stronger and have a serious match against Ryoma

Konomi had wanted him to lose against Niou, but decided against it since he had already lost to Shiraishi

#tenipuri #tenirabi #profile #my post #seigaku